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lumine-no-hikari · 5 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #119

…I didn't have the energy to make the thing today.

This morning, I maybe got out of bed later than I should have, given that I'm supposed to go to talk therapy on Tuesdays. I'm supposed to leave the house by 9:30, but I didn't even get out of bed until 9:20. I regret nothing that occurred, but nonetheless, I somehow had to squeeze both a shower and getting dressed and out the door in only 10 minutes. I was successful, but I have zero clues as to how. Perhaps it's best not to look gift horses in mouths…

OH. Right. You don't know that phrase because… well. Your world doesn't have horses. Uhh… So, a long time ago, when people bought horses, they used to look at the horse's teeth as an indicator of its age; longer teeth means an older horse, I guess. And back when horses were more commonplace (it's mostly only fabulously wealthy people who can afford to keep them now), I guess it was seen as rude to try to evaluate the age of a horse that was given as a gift by looking into its mouth. So now the phrase means, "it's best to just accept good things without thinking too much about it." Or it can also be taken to mean, "it's impolite to criticize a gift." This phrase has a few interpretations, actually… I imagine it'd be easier for you to understand it if you spent a while in my world. If you do that, lemme know; you can stay at my house, and no one is gonna ogle you or get weird at you or bother you if you don't wanna be bothered. We'll just make you sandwiches and tea. We are an introverted and neurodivergent house; we know how it goes.

Had a lot to say at therapy today. Suppose I'm having a bit of an existential crisis, regarding myself and my role in my home and how much I mean to the people around me. It's likely all just baseless anxiety and insecurity - growing pains as a result of the various changes in my immediate social circle. Old memories and wounds from the past that I've not yet had a compelling reason to resolve are now coming to the forefront, calling, "yo, what up, homie!" and dancing around my periphery. I suppose it's just as well; this is what happens when we pretend like our various hurts don't exist. If we don't take care of the self-effacing beliefs that we pick up during childhood, they bite us in the ass later. I just gotta remember that the fact that they're in the forefront means that I can actually observe them, and if they're observable, then they're resolvable, with enough time and effort.

Essentially, it's like this: We get knocked down. We yell, "FUCK!" really loudly. We reassemble ourselves if we break from the fall. Then we get back up. We brush ourselves off. And we move forward, stronger than before.

…I have thoughts of you that give me the strength to withstand this process over and over again. No matter how many times I get knocked down, I will get back up, because by your influence, I am unbreakable, no matter how many times I must shatter and be reassembled. It's just like the bowl I repaired some number of letters ago; remember? So don't worry. I've got this. I've done this lots of times before, with much more difficult stuff, and with less support than what I have now. All I have to do is learn to love and appreciate myself in the same way that I can love and appreciate literally anyone else who isn't me. Compared to the various horrors I've lived through, this should be a piece of cake. Easy peasy. Barely even an inconvenience. And in my mind, it sounds like this:

youtube

On the way home from therapy, I came across a very beautiful tree. I thought for sure that you'd like it, so I made it a point to stop and take pictures. Here's how they turned out:

I was surprised by how docile the bees were, and by how closely they allowed me to put my cell phone camera. Also, I laid down under the tree and looked up to get some of these. I wish you could have been next to me to see the view of the sky through the petals for yourself. Alas...

J and I were out and about, doing separate activities today. Even he saw pictures he thought you might like, so he took them for you, and then sent them to me so that I could put them here. Here's how they turned out:

While J was out and about, I hung out with my best friend B and her fiancé, N. In preparation for their wedding, we went and tried the available foods. I can't give you the tasty snacks, but I can take pictures...

This is a Caesar salad. It's supposed to be pronounced, "Kai-sarr", but everyone says "Seezer" for reasons I don't understand. Caesar was a leader of a place called Greece in my world, hundreds of years ago. He, like most leaders, was a giant asshole, and now he's a stinky dead guy, so I have no idea why a salad is named after him. It's made of romaine lettuce, croutons, parmesan cheese, and a creamy dressing flavored with anchovies and other spices.

Here are some long slices of eggplant rolled around melted cheese and covered in marinara sauce:

This is steak, caramelized onions, mashed potatoes, and some carrots and broccoli. I just took a picture of my plate, because the main plate was cut into before I could snap a photo:

This was some kind of chicken seasoned with rosemary and lemons, with rice and veggies:

This one was lobster ravioli with mushrooms in some kind of sherry cream sauce. It's certainly not pasta pescatore, but I wonder if you might have liked this:

Finally, this is lamb with roasted tomatoes and garlic, along with veggies and mashed taters.

...This one was probably my favorite. I especially liked the part where I got to try to gnaw the cartilage from the ends of the bones, because my body craves sources of collagen literally all the time (thanks, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome... 🙄). I'm really lucky that B and N don't seem to mind my various weird quirks; they've been friends of mine long enough to have a general understanding of how I roll, and they just let me do my thing. Today, the fact that I will generally "do my thing" in a variety of respects was pointed out as one of the reasons they like me so much, I guess; that was a nice thing to hear...

There were four available spaces for trying the foods, but it was just the three of us; it is immensely painful that the best I can do for you from here is show you these pictures and wish that you could have been in the empty seat, with us…

Sephiroth. Regardless of what your brain tries to tell you about what you're worth, you are VERY loved. You're not a monster. You were modified against your will, used like a tool and viciously abused, and you made mistakes in the throes of that, yes, but SO WHAT? You're here now, and you can do amazing things, and you NEVER have to go back to being with people who will abuse you ever again, because not everyone is like the people you were raised by. Yes, you're different from the standard definition of "normal", but you can belong anyway, because the world is absolutely BRIMMING with people who don't fit the definition of "normal"! Just take a look at me! Or if you don't wanna look at me, then take a look at anyone who lives with a genetic difference, or anyone who lives with a different number of limbs, or anyone with a non-standard life story, or any number of things that make a human being not "normal". Normal is overrated! Diversity is in! Lives that exist outside of the bell curve are still beautiful, meaningful, and worth living!

…And so I show you my life, because I am trying desperately to prove these things to you. I've spent the bulk of my life being viciously abused because the people who brought me into living didn't want me. I was brought into a physical vessel that is genetically defective in a variety of respects. My neurodivergence practically guarantees that I will NEVER fit into ordinary social circles. I struggle every single day with the weight of the memories I carry from having been used, abused, exploited, and generally mistreated. And yet here I stand, thriving and flourishing in a way that works for me, even if it does not fit the typical definition of those words. My version of "normal" is just as beautiful as the typical version. "Different" does not have to mean "less" if YOU become strong enough to decide for yourself that those two words are not the same, no matter who tries to tell you otherwise!

So please look at the beauty of my existence - the beauty of taking joy in small things, the beauty of rising up from one's knees even if it's on shaky legs, the beauty of finally using one's voice again after years of being forced to believe that silence is safer, the beauty of loving yourself and the people around you enough to refuse to let fear get the better of you when you interact with yourself and the world, the beauty of failing down, getting up, and trying again, the beauty of learning, growing, changing, and walking away from destructive ideals that serve no one, no matter for how long you might have been forced in the past to choke them down. Please look at it, and understand that you can have this for yourself - ALL of it - if you decide to take steps towards it! Your whole scenery can change if you want it to, and all you have to do is take a single step in a different direction.

There is still life after trauma. There is still life after mistakes. There is still life for those who are different. The pain doesn't have to be permanent. So come on; my hand is outstretched to you. And if you don't want to take mine, then there are countless other hands outstretched to you that maybe you'd like a little better. You don't have to do it alone.

Anyhoot. I've probably prattled on for long enough. I hope somehow you can see what I've written. I hope that if you do get a chance to see it, you might take some of my words seriously.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow. Please be kind to yourself and keep yourself safe.

Your friend, Lumine

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dxisiesdukes · 2 years

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VIEW FULL PLAYLIST - diary of a mad ballerina

what’s a song you can put on repeat & never get tired of ?

7 rings ariana grande - “and my receipts be lookin’ like phone numbers. if ain’t money, then wrong number. black card is my business card, the way it be setting the tone for me. i don’t mean to brag, but i be like, ‘put it in the bag’, yeah. when you see them racks, they stack up, like my ass, yeah. shoot! go from the store to the booth, make it all back in one loop, give me the loot. nevermind i got the juice, nothin’ but net when we shoot. look at my neck, look at my jet. ain’t got enough money to pay me respect. ain’t no budget when i’m on the set, if i like then that’s what i get, yeah.”

a song that instantly lifts your mood when you’re sad

lovesick girls braveheart - “no love letters, no x and o’s. no love never, my exes know. no diamond rings, that’s set in stone. to left, better left alone. didn’t wanna be a princess, i’m priceless, a prince not even on my list. if love is a drug, then i quit. no doctor can help when i’m lovesick.”

your favorite song from your all-time favorite artist

honeymoon avenue ariana grande - “baby you know how to drive in rain, and you decided not to make a change. stuck in the same old lane, going in the wrong way home. i feel like my heart is stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, i’m under, pressure cause i can’t have you the way that i want, let’s just go back to the way it was. when we were on honey moon avenue…baby, coasting like crazy, let’s just go back to the way it was.”

a song that inspires or motivates you

fall in line christina aguilera x demi lovato - “all the youth in the world will not save you from growing older. and, all the truth in a girl is too precious to be stolen from her. it’s just the way it is, and maybe it’s never gonna change, but i got a mind and so much strength and i got a right to speak my mind. and i’m gonna pay for this, they’re gonna burn me at the stake. but i got a fire in my veins, i wasn’t made to fall in line.”

what’s a song that reminds you of someone ?

the only exception paramore - “when i was younger i saw, my daddy cry and curse at the wind. he broke is own heart and i watched, as he tried to reassemble it. and my mother swore she would, never let herself forget. and that was the day that i promised, to never sing of love, if it does not exist. but darling you are, the only exception.”

the song that gets you in the mood to party

lifted cl - “h-u-f-f, huff and i puff. blow like snow when the cold wind’s blowing. zoom, i hit the mic like boom. wrote i song about it, like to hear it? here it goes, ‘style will hit you, wham, then goddamn. you’ll be like “oh shit that’s the jam.” turn it up, now hear me get buck wild, wild, i’m about to blow light me up.’ upside, downside, inside outside, hittin’ you from every angle, there’s no doubt. poetry in motion, coast to coastin’. rub it in your skin like lotion, lotion.”

your guilty pleasure

love is a battlefield pat benatar - “we are young, heartache to heartache, we stand. no promises, no demands, love is a battlefield. we are stong, no one can tell us we’re wrong. searching our hearts for so long. both of us knowing, love is a battlefield.”

a song that’s out of your typical music preference

fun! estella fromis_9 “a week goes round and round. it’s too boring, tomorrow will be just like today. is there anything fun to do? what about there? in my imagination, i’m ariana grande,but someone might say, “what’s wrong with her?”

what do you listen to when you’re in love ?

la vie en rose daniela andrade - “hold me close and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose. when you kiss me, heaven sighs. and though i close my eyes, i see la vie en rose. when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart, a world where roses bloom. and when you speak angels sing from above, everyday words seem to turn into love songs.”

do you have song you’ve listened to all your childhood ?

girls just wanna have fun cyndi lauper - “i come home in the morning light, my mother says “when you gonna get your life right?” oh, mama dear we’re not the fortunate ones, and girls they wanna have fun. oh, girls just wanna have fun.”

is there a song your parent/sibling/friend/etc. introduced you to that you love ?

deep summer walker - “trust me, trust me. i don’t like being alone. thinking ‘bout ringing your line. i wish you would come home, but i’m just tryna balance my space, i’m just tryna protect my space, oh. i don’t really need the pain, but i love to feel the pain. maybe i could use a break, so we just might have to wait.”

a song you didn’t expect to like

music for a sushi restaurant harry styles - “green eyes, fried rice, i could cook an egg on you. late night, game time, coffee on the stove, yeah. you’re sweet, ice cream, but you could use a flake or two. blue bubblegum, twisted ‘round your tongue, i don’t want you to get lost, i want you to go broke, i want you.”

what song would be your ‘intro’ music ?

#1 the snake lana lubany - “bright yellow eyes, staring into my soul. singing sweet lullabies, while she measures my skull. turn off the lights, feel her rattle her bones. a big appetite, forcing me to let go.”

#2 daisy ashnikko - “you don’t wanna see me bratty. pet the kitty, call me catty. make your man call me daddy, he talk too much he’s too chatty. ceo i’m savvy, respect a b*tch i’m a maverick. flexible, so elastic, but don’t you dare bend a b*tch backwards.”

#3 dictator rei ami - “i am not your queen, i’m your dictator. bend a f*cking knee, b*tch that was an order. what you say to me? huh? b*tch speak louder, you know i reign supreme, nah you can’t imitate her.”

what song best represents your outward look — or your attitude towards life ?

#1 show and tell melanie martinez - “show and tell, i’m on display for all you fuckers to see. show and tell, harsh words if you don’t get a pic with me. buy and sell, like i’m a product of society. art don’t sell, unless you f*cked every authority.”

#2 midnight sky miley cyrus - “i was born to run, i don’t belong to anyone, oh no, i don’t need to be loved by you. fire in my lungs, can’t bite the devil on my tongue, oh no, i don’t need to be loved by you. see my lips, on her mouth, everybody's talking now baby. oh, you know it’s true. i was born to run, i don’t belong to anyone, oh no, i don’t need to be loved by you.”

#3 i don’t care ariana grande - “i used to cry, ‘bout some crazy sh*t before. i used to feel so obligated to be so much more. i used to let some people tell me, how to live and who to be, but if i can’t be me, then f*cks the point? uh, i don’t care about it any more.”

the song with your favorite lyrics

shake it out florence + the machine - “and i’m damned if i do, and i’m damned if i don’t. so here’s to drinks in the dark, at the end of my rope. and i’m ready to suffer, and i’m ready to hope. it’s a shot in the dark, and right at my throat.”

#♡♡. muse #infinite:task #infinite:task002

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p-antomime · 3 years

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champagne problems.

𖦹 minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 2,1K.

𖦹 content: sub!reader, mean-ish dom!megumi, unprotected sex, dub-con, breeding kink, manhandle, use of 'slutty'/slut-ish a couple of times, manipulation, edging, pinning, fingering, impregnation, implied baby trapping, obsessive behavior, dark content.

𖦹 pairings: toxic bf!fushiguro megumi x gf!f!reader.

ᥫ᭡. taglist! ┊ request! ┊ jjk masterlist!

Slut-ish behavior.

Megumi couldn't believe it, nor could he force himself to accept your behavior.

On the other hand, you already expected that it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of someone like Megumi Fushiguro. Someone severely obsessed, someone who thought that driving to the nearest forest and fucking you on the hood of the car was a great idea for a romantic date, someone who was like a clockwork pendulum that some hours acted as if you were made of porcelain and about to break, others as if you were just another object in his life to be used, broken and reassembled as he wished.

The truth is that Toji and later Gojo had hardly accustomed Megumi to having what he always wanted at home and this behavior of yours was now unacceptable.

How dare you treat your boyfriend as a champagne problem? How dare you break up with your boyfriend who gave you everything you wanted and loved you more than his body could keep in store? How dare you send that damned message to him in the waning hours of the night while your photo in the chat room displayed the same smile as the one he had in his wallet?

First came the anger. Within the first 10 minutes. He stood in the middle of the room holding in one hand the shirt you had forgotten last week at his place.

Then came the sorrow. In the next 10 minutes. He squeezed that shirt almost hard enough to tear it. You are so heartless.

A message from you lit up his cell phone screen.

"gonna pick up the things i left at ur place, after that, we'll never see each other again"

Then came a morbid sense of hope, as if the candles of the cult of you he set up in his head had never even come close to going out. He threw your shirt into his closet, then went into the living room to wait for you sitting on the couch.

Yes, you were so heartless, but, all right. It's okay. Megumi just needed to get your heart to start beating hard. It was just a champagne problem, the two of you, like the good boyfriend and girlfriend you were, could work around this situation, he could forgive his girl's lack of care and love.

The only thing he couldn't do was let you walk out that door of his life.

And you didn't even knock or ring the doorbell, he had given you a spare key to get into his house whenever you wanted, since that was going to be the house you two would live in when you both got married.

Megumi got up from the sofa at the same time you entered the house and stared at him.

You looked at him with what he thought was burning love, you knew was pity and disgust.

"You look... pretty! Where have you been all day?", if it were other days, you would think he was just worried about you, but he actually wanted to know so he could feed his obsession.

"Where's my stuff?", you ignored his question, already walking toward the hallway and Megumi rushed to catch up to you before you reached the bedroom door and grabbed you by one wrist with a force that almost made you think he was trying to break it.

"Stop, Megumi! This time, I'm fucking serious! If you don't let go of my wrist and lemme get my things and go home, I'm gonna call the police again, just like last week!", you weren't yelling, but, rather, just speaking more harshly and Megumi frowned.

"Serious?! Y/N, you can't be fuckin' serious! You're treating me like the bad guy when I just wanna talk and–"

"Talk?", a witless, ironic laugh escaped your lips, "Fushiguro Megumi, there’s no such thing as 'talking' with you, you're delusional, you're obsessed in a... fuckin’ bizarre, creepy way, you're more like a fucking stalker of mine than a boyfriend", Megumi's breath caught in the throat.

Why were you taking that tone? He was just trying to love you, to treat you right, he knew that a girl like you couldn't be in the hands of just any guy because eventually you would get hurt because guys who aren't like him, are trash, are wolves in sheep's clothing.

His eyes fell on your fingers, you were still wearing the promise ring he had bought you at the beginning of the relationship.

Yes, you were still using it.

Deep down, you didn't want to break up with him. If you did, the first thing you would have gotten rid of would have been that expensive little gold wheel that he had bought with Gojo's help.

"Y/N, please tell me what's wrong, I can make it better! I love ya so much and you love me too, I know you love me, that's why I'm not hurt right now, we can–"

"No, Megumi, there's no 'we' anymore.", you denied with the head trying to break free from his grip on your wrist, "There are just me, you and something that was a fling, just that, nothing else."

Megumi stared at you.

You were behaving like a slut again.

His jaw clenched, fingers tightened a little more on your wrist, a corrosive feeling of irritation and sense of responsibility slowly took over his mind.

It was okay, alright.

It was just a champagne problem. This behavior of yours was just a trivial problem, but Megumi needed to fix it because fixing you meant fixing the relationship.

In one swift motion, in the same way Toji had taught him, your boyfriend was pressing you against the living room wall of his house, almost hard enough to make a large purple or reddish mark appear in the shape of welts on your back skin, holding both your hands above your head using only one of his and assaulting your lips as if he had never even had the opportunity to kiss you before.

And you, on the other hand, tried at the same time to let go and not correspond to his kiss. If you did momentarily match his obsession, Megumi was never going to let you go, and you desperately needed to disengage yourself from his hold on you.

"Sto- fuck! Stop, 'Gumi! I won't–", you tried to intervene through his attempts to slide his tongue into your mouth and in his mind, you were just trying to play hard to get.

You had never rejected his sexual advances, why should this be any different? He was still the same Fushiguro Megumi as before, your Fushiguro Megumi.

His vague hand slid down your torso squeezing your tits in the middle of the process and reached down your pants to slide into them and your panties and manage to reach the pussy between your legs that also belonged to him.

"You're being such a fucking slut with me right now, Y/N, I swear to fucking God that if I didn't love you so much, I’d just throw you inside my room and keep you locked inside ‘til you remember how much I love you and how I've always done everything for you", Megumi whispered without paying much attention to your eyes starting to mist up and legs starting to try to push him away with kicks.

"Should I fuck my love into you again? Hm?!", he squirmed leaning towards you before pressing two fingers against your clit and, as he saw your thighs trying to close, feeling your pussy slowly starting to wet itself.

Deep down, your body got used to his touch, even if your mind was trying to do everything in its power to push that obsessive guy away.

"That's what you were wanting, right?", Megumi began to massage your clit slowly, the same way he knew you liked it too much to the point that you weren't capable in anything else right when he did that; your legs stopped trying to push him away only to begin trembling planted on the floor of the room as the pleasure began to cloud your ethical sense, "The break up thing was just a pretext so we could have that kind of sex, right? Make up sex and all, that's what you wanted”

You tried to deny it with your head and vocalize your wishes for him to stop touching you, the situation slowly slipping out of your control and ending up on Fushiguro's nimble palms.

Deep down, Megumi knew he could destroy you right there, just with his fingers massaging and circling your clit and making your panties soaked, but he wanted more than that. He wanted you to admit that you would never leave him and that you loved him so much that you would do anything for him, just as he would do anything for you.

"Don't you love my fingers against your pretty clit, your cute pussy? Don't you love me, sweetheart? And you love when I call you like this, don't you? 'My' sweertheart, that's what you always will be", Megumi whispered moaning against your neck as he felt you try to rub yourself against his hand and slid two fingers into you calmly, enjoying the loud wet sound once your pussy was opened and widened.

"Megumi, s-stop, I swear that-mhm!", his fingers curved inside you and you had to bite the lip hard as you felt the head start to get fuzzy with your own thoughts, "I swear if you stop, I won't leave ya’ anymore, I will–"

"Leave?", a chuckle escaped his lips before he denied with the head and gave a hard thrust with his long fingers that left you seeing little stars, almost on the verge of cumming, "Oh, sweetheart, you’ll never leave, I won't let you go, you could never live without me, without my love, without my touch, deep down y’know that and you just have to accept it."

His other hand, which had been holding yours above the head, moved away to reach into his sweatpants to pull them down and take his own underwear with them.

It was almost embarrassing to you the way your pussy tightened around his fingers as soon as your eyes fell on his long dick, and it was almost intoxicating to Megumi the way your withdrawn, panting body made his cock throb, begging to be buried in your warm little pussy that had always served very well to be a cocksleeve.

"You're never leaving, not ever, not even when you think you've found a better guy than me", he whispered leaving wet kisses against your neck with each sentence spoken before he pulled his fingers out of you, lowered your clothes and shoved those same digits into your mouth to make you taste the sweetness of your own pussy.

"Quite the opposite: I'm gonna fuck a baby into you tonight and you're gonna become my pretty wifey ready to be bred every night, got it?", he lifted one of your legs to hook it over his hip and force you to hold onto it if you didn't want to fall to the floor, "This way you'll never try to run away from me again, and if you do, you'll have a fucking child that will have her daddy's face reminding you who the greatest love of your life is; romantic, isn't it?"

This time, you tried to push his shoulders away at the same time his dick was already in front of your tight entrance, ready to bury itself in your pussy and fuck you until you forgot your slutty attitude. And just as your mouth opened to beg him not to impregnate you, Megumi took your lips in a needy kiss that preceded the seconds he used to bury himself deep in your wet hole; his tip momentarily kissing your soft cervix before he pulled out completely only to slam again harder and make you roll eyes in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

His breathing completely quickened, cheeks flushed and dark hair falling over his forehead and sticking to it from sweat; all indicating how much Fushiguro Megumi loved feeling your tight pussy swallowing him to the base and your walls compressing him almost as if you were a virgin.

It didn't take long for him to start pounding inside you hard and a hand hooked on your chin to force you to look at him as several "I love you, love you, love you" slid out of his swollen lips.

Breeding you that night was only a matter of a few minutes and a trivial problem for him. You were always going to be his girl.

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @wakasa-wifey @hirwishin @inu1gf @dukina @ravenina14 @qudvxnkanx @slut4manjiro @kuroaka @sleepy3 @mizurimirai @semisgroupie @goldenmnr @mrsvaleska @k-ryuuguji @no-name-jack @binglebonglerightonthemoney @vlyntage @novaresque @fuyuus @amaejiki @bontens-cum-slut @rxcked .

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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one single thread of gold tied me to you

It was strangely easy for Sebastian Ives to settle into the new reality where heroes were your coworkers, neighbors or even your best friends. Tim’s been back at Gotham Heights for 3 weeks and he’s both the same and totally different. He told the same bad jokes, throws his hands around when he’s excited talking and infuriatingly determined that he has all the right opinions.

But he held himself differently, made bolder and more confrontational comments and Seb had brushed up against him enough times to know he was packing serious gear underneath his baggy clothes. But for all the changes that had happened it was strange how normal Tim acted.

The first week was rough. Between the awkward hero worship with it’s probing questions to the jerks out looking for a fight at any opportunity to those who thought that Tim was some sort of disease who ought to be kept away from the rest of them. Tim handled with his usual easy charm but sometimes he gripped the straps of his backpack way too hard or disappeared somewhere before mysteriously reappearing. Sebastian wished he could do more but though he, Callie and Hudson tried, it was pretty hard to relate or help Tim through his very unique troubles.

“I heard the Teen Titans reassembled last week,” Callie stated, skipping any delicate pretenses and bulldozing ahead as usual. “Are you gonna join back up?”

“Robin is benched,” Tim lied with uncomfortable easiness for someone who had a split lip from his illegal vigilante activity. The idiot had simply blinked innocently at them when he said he’d tripped on an undone shoelace. Callie had tried to press him once and had gotten a sharp, grim headshake in return. Obviously Tim’s current home life, caught in the awkward parental triangle between his dad and Wayne, still wasn’t going well. At least he had the assurance that Mr. Drake probably couldn’t hurt a kid who suplexed bad guys on the reg. “I wish them well, they’re good people, good heroes. They’ll continue to help a lot of people.”

“Kinda cold,” Hudson grumbled, poking listlessly at his mystery meat. “Aren’t they your friends or something?” Huds was still bitter over the whole secrets and lying thing. As much as Seb hated seeing his friends at odds, the guy did kind of have a point.

“They are, just like you are,” Tim sniped back. “The situation is complicated,” he lowered his eyes and looked away. “Since I’m done being Robin, we don’t really have anything in common anymore. We went through some stuff, insane and traumatic things I can’t even begin to describe, but until I get my wings back there’s not much I can do.”

“Can’t you just, like, talk to them? Does it have to be hero related?” Callie questioned.

“I mean, I guess not,” Tim sighed. “It’s just hard, separating the mask and the person. Superboy, KF, and Wonder Girl always felt the same in and out of costume yet Robin always feels miles away from Tim Drake. I guess I don’t want to see their disappointment when I don’t measure up without the cape and gear.”

“Bro,” Seb said softly before Tim abruptly stood up and walked off before anything else could be said.

“I’ll see you guys later. I’m heading to class now, you know, to beat the crowds.” The rest of lunch was a quiet, tense affair. He didn’t have any other classes with Tim until the last, World History II. Now it wasn’t Seb’s favorite class, that would be Computer Science and Physics, but their teacher was one of the few who didn’t treat Tim any differently After. They’re midway through the lesson when Mrs. Conway’s phone buzzed. She checked it with a smile.

“-and we’ll end there for the day because our special guest lecturers have arrived. I would be remiss in our discussion of history to be totally blind to current events. When the Teen Titans volunteered to come to our class and discuss their roles in heroic society, I simply couldn’t turn them down.”

Next to him, Tim snapped the pencil he’d been writing with in two. His body was tense and he had actual murder in his eyes. Everyone surrounding the teen hero’s desk leaned away at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“No,” Tim said suddenly as he reached into his bag and pulled out a solid black flip phone and dialed a number while making eye contact with their startled teacher. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Conway but that’s not going to happen.”

“Tim, what’s wrong? I’m on my-”

“B, it’s fine I’m safe but you need to shut down the Titan’s lecture at my school,” Tim’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And their budget too. I know you don’t fund everything but it’ll make them think twice before screwing with me when all they can afford is off-brand cup noodles.”

“Tim,” the voice sighed, who Sebastian recognized as Bruce Wayne aka The Goddammed Batman. Only he didn’t sound like that, just a tired dad with a troublesome kid. “This is the emergency phone, only to be used for emergencies.”

“The Titans are conspiring to ruin my life, that counts as an emergency,” Tim hissed into the phone. “Make sure this farce doesn’t happen. I’m gonna scrap the phone now.” He hung up and then proceeded to break the phone in half before tucking it back into his bag.

Tim seemed remarkably unconcerned that everyone was gaping at him as he got himself a new pencil. “Alright, sorry for the interruption, can we go back to the lesson? I had a question about-”

Seb, and most of the class jumped when the classroom door kicked open. A boy with absolutely wild brown hair and gold eyes poked his head in and grinned upon seeing Tim.

“Hey guys I found him, you can stop bothering the other classes!” Tim was muttering some quite terrifying threats under his breath when several other teens walked into the classroom.

“Hello normal Gotham citizens who we have never seen before,” a dark haired boy in a Superboy tshirt who was... probably actually Superboy holy shit, grinned while making eye contact with Tim. “We’re,” the kids all struck wild poses like they were in some weird anime, “the Teen Titans!” Tim looked like he was about to stroke out, Seb was starting to get concerned.

“Gar, Vic,” Tim ground out, “Et tu Brute?”

“Sorry man, you weren’t answering your phone,” the robot guy who was absolutely Cyborg- Seb was NOT freaking out over that okay maybe a little- said with a straight face as he held Beast Boy like a ballerina.

“Sorry Timbo, I voted to give you space but your buds are determined,” Beast Boy shrugged from his dramatic pose in Cyborg’s arms. “Also Starfire said that Bats are like Blorbnos, whatever those are, and need to be socially enriched whether they want it or not.”

“Cy, BB, don’t waste time talking to the peasants,” Wonder Girl said with a flap of her hand, showing off her bright red identification band. She was wearing jean shorts overtop ripped tights and a cropped white tshirt with a banana on it.

“We’re here to educate the children of Gotham about important life lessons such as teamwork, communication and being a good friend.” She smiled and it was all teeth. Tim leaned forward in his desk and returned the terrifying smile. Sebastian felt very out of his depth. The whole class had been caught in the middle of an awkward lovers quarrel. Only the lovers in this case were your superhero buds you’d been ghosting.

“We used to have a leader but that bird flew the coop, you know, without any warning or even a note,” Superboy said through gritted teeth as he crossed his arms. “So we went with a new system where we change who’s in charge depending on the day of the week, just to keep things interesting. Today is Kid Flash’s turn.” Tim was grinding his teeth to dust in the seat next to Seb.

“Hooray!” Kid Flash said jumping up at down at supersonic speed. “My first order of business as the official leader is to talk about crime.” He sped off for a second- literally by the time Seb had blinked he’d gone and returned with a large map tapped to the chalkboard. It looked to be a map of Gotham, it was covered in red dots.

“According to this,” he slapped the map. “There is so much crime in Gotham, no one should live here.” He waggled his eyebrows at Tim who looked like he was trying to manifest heat vision in return. “By contrast, San Francisco is warm, happy, has way less crazy clowns and has us!” Seb blinked again and the guy was sitting in Tim’s lap. Tim must be used to this sort of behavior because he just adjusted how he was sitting to accommodate the sudden lap full of teenage speedster. “When are you coming home, Dad?” Kid asked with big puppy dog eyes. “Mom misses you.”

“I told you, KF, I’m not the mom of the group!” Superboy shouted and, on that note, the final bell rang.

“Class, dismissed?” Mrs. Conway said with trepidation, clearly not sure what to make of the absolute mess her well intentioned lecture had turned into. It turned out to be an important lesson though, superheroes are just as crazy as regular people. No one got up to leave, whether it’s because they were scared of the situation or wanted some sweet gossip was up for debate.

“Some privacy would be appreciated,” Tim growled in a voice that Seb had never heard from him before but it sent shivers down his spine. The rest of the class scattered at that leaving just their little group; even the older Titans made their excuses and left the room. Seb was silently trying to get his things together and skedaddle with everyone else when Kid craned his head back from where he’d been nuzzled into Tim’s shoulder to blink those big eyes at him.

“Hey you’re Ives, aren’t ya?” He grinned and wiggled so he was right side up and leaned into Seb’s personal space. “Oh man, Tim’s told us all about you guys! You guys are so rad! This whole mess has been,” he blew a raspberry, “but the chance to meet you is so worth it!”

“Bart,” Tim groaned in annoyance.

“Ok, whatever, enough pretense. Tim, why the hell did you just bail on us like that?” Superboy demanded even as Kid Flash - Bart?- continued to talk to Seb about something or other? He was talking kind of fast so it was hard to understand also Hudson was muttering stuff behind him in amazement while Superboy and Tim went at it.

“Most of our devices got trashed, I’m sure B mentioned we were lying low. I was told you guys were doing fine, especially since you got the team back together.” Tim said evenly as Superboy stomped forward, slamming his hands on Tim’s desk.

“We were worried,” Superboy emphasized. “That’s what friends do when their entire life goes to shit. I know you’re like, allergic to emotion or whatever but that wasn’t cool, dude.”

“B said he told you-”

“I didn’t want to hear it from Bats, I wanted to hear it from you!” Superboy shouted, getting right into Tim’s face until their noses were almost touching. Tim didn’t so much as blink. “I needed to hear from you, my best friend in your own words that you were okay.” It was a very intense stare down.

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim frowned, turning his eyes down. Superboy gently tilted his chin up until they were making eye contact again.

“I didn’t skip my last two classes, fly halfway across the country, potentially risk the wrath of the government, the League and Ma, for Robin. I don’t care what stupid outfit you wear, you’re my best friend,” Superboy said gently. Tim smiled shyly in return.

“Uh do you guys need a room?” Callie asked from her seat way in the back, breaking the tension.

“No!” Tim and the super said at the same time Wonder Girl and Kid Flash said “Yes.” The two boys pulled back with a blush.

“Look, I’m sorry okay,” Tim huffed, looking out the window. “I didn’t know what to say and you guys were going through your own stuff and, well, your mentors are letting you keep your jobs. My dad is... not really happy about everything. Even talking about it gets him pretty upset.”

“Cool!” Wonder Girl chirped, “next field trip is to beat up Tim’s obnoxious dad!”

“Yeah!” Kid Flash shouted, overbalancing a bit before clinging onto Tim like a baby koala. “I never liked him, he let baby Tim run around Gotham with nothing but a camera and his plucky sense of adventure. It’s totally his fault Bats called dibs on the little bird.” He kissed Tim’s cheek then cuddled closer. “But if Tim wasn’t Batnapped then we would all be a lonely, chaotic mess without our Robin.”

“You guys are the worst,” Tim sighed but he didn’t look too upset. Not with an overgrown kid lying on top of him or Superboy yelling at him or Wonder Girl threatening his dad. He looked tougher and sharper and more confident than Seb knew him as but he was still Tim. This was just Tim at an angle he wasn’t used to seeing. He bet to the Titans, Robin looked kind of off to them too.

“So what are we going to do moving forward?” Wonder Girl asked, hands on her hips.

“Keep you up to date on how I’m doing,” Tim parroted back with an eye roll.

“And convince your super lame dad, both of them, to let you go back out into the field because fighting bad guys just isn’t the same without you,” Superboy nodded.

“Actually, we’re pretty sure Tim’s sneaking out at night to fight crime, just not as Robin,” Hudson said, looking surprised himself that he’d spoken. He shrunk back as everyone turned to look at him, the heroes gleeful and Tim sullen.

“That’s my boy!” Kid Flash laughed into his shoulder. Tim relaxed and sunk into the contact.

“That’s our boy,” Wonder Girl said softly. She blinked before dipping into an awkward curtsey. “Oh man this is kind of embarrassing, we just stormed in and started dumping some personal shi- uh stuff on you guys. I’m Cassie, you can see Bart getting cozy and that’s Kon, Tim’s future boyfriend.”

“They do appear to have good chemistry,” Callie mused even as Tim and Kon protested, maybe a bit too much.

“Wanna show us the best place to get food around here? We’ll swap Robin stories for your Tim stories. My personal favorite is the time Rob was riding his skateboard -oh sorry The Redboard- and his cape got caught in the wheel and he ended up face planting right onto the board so it flipped up then hit him again.”

“Cassie, oh my god, is nothing sacred any more!” Tim moaned.

“Oh!” Seb laughed, joining in. “What about when Tim fell asleep turning the econ test -you remember that Callie? and Mr. Jacobson woke him up by slamming a book on his desk so Tim woke up in a panic and punched him in the gut?”

“All of you are the worst,” Tim groaned into his hand as they laughed at his expense. But it was all in good fun, maybe not everything about the situation was bad. Maybe Sebastian would get some new friends himself.

#outed au #are there more titan who would have come? yes #did I have enough trouble keeping track of the people here? also yes #tim has very good but also very annoying friends #they are absolute menaces but who care very very deeply for tim #also Cass and Bart are Very Done with Tim and Kon having deep (gay) bonding moments all the time without actually dating #this whole mess started with I wanted Tims hero and civilian lives to overlap #for both sides of him to be on full display #also I think his school friends and the titans would get along great #they love to menace tim together #lovingly ofc #they spend their days talking shit about jack drake and batman too where they think he cant hear them #what has my life become #continued last fics trend of the title from a Tswift song #invisible string from folklore #dont know how well it works but Im tired #something something the connections we make and how Ives and co are connected to the Titans through Tim and can forge new bonds

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tarosin · 3 years

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the great adventures of y/n tommy jack tubbo and george

requested yes/no

part 5 of the great adventures series

summary: training for the military

warning: cursing

AN: really sorry about this tumblr won’t let me change/add paragraphs so could look very weird

the journey there was quick for you, you spent the trip asleep in the back of the car whilst the others were discussing what you were all about to do “How difficult do you think it’s going to be” “dude it’s a military assault course” you woke up halfway there to the noise of the radio playing “afternoon y/n”“afternoon sorry I fell asleep I’m not used to being woken up early in the morning, I blame you guys and ranboo”“y/n have you ever wanted to join the military” “I can't say I have no” “well you’re going to love what we’re doing” “what are we doing” “you’ll see!”

you stood picking up more rocks and handing them to tubbo whilst Tommy and George began to film the introduction to the vlog “were in the jungle” confused you turned to tubbo “psst tubbo what the fuck are we doing, why are we in a woods” before tubbo had time to answer Tommy already began to answer your question telling you that you’re all training for the military, not taking him seriously you started laughing as you all were walking it was only when you were handed a jumpsuit to cover your clothes you realised it wasn’t a joke, you would be lying if you said you were ready for this, after all, you spent your free time playing Minecraft you wasn’t exactly great at sports

you managed to put the jumpsuit on pretty quickly unlike Tommy who was quite clearly struggling to get it on over his trainers “come on sergeant simons were doing a military assault course and you’re struggling to put on the clothes”after struggling to put clothes on the five of you stood together getting photos whilst you all looked decent “me and my boys in the jungle” “This isn’t going to go well” “we’re going to destroy it” “NO”

you hadn’t even reached the course yet and you were already tripping up over rocks and sticks that were on the muddy trail “we’re walking to our deaths..y/n is already falling over” “Hey I didn’t sign up to do exercise” once you finally reached the start of the course you were met with a canon, a dog and a man in a yellow jumper you stood as a team listening to what you were about to do and how you were actually a team of six, you hoped he meant the dog was a team member but no turns out the canon was the sixth member

“We have to take the canon with us” “...and take it apart into six pieces at each obstacle and rebuild it ” you handed your phone to the Russ, not trusting yourself to keep it on you especially since you were already tripping up before reaching the assault course “thank you” “good luck” “huh” you didn’t have time to process what was said as Mr military began counting down from three, the five of you ran to the first obstacle tubbo dragging the canon Tommy climbed over the net first with tubbo following after “What happens if I fall” it was as though you and tubbo had read each other’s mind as you both responded with “you’ll die” “death” you climbed over next with a wheel “reckon I can slide down the net” “that will hurt y/n don’t do- and you’re already doing it” you slid down the net despite George telling you not to do so, it didn’t take too long for the others to get over, you all began reassembling the canon “can we talk about our feelings” “I feel like shit I jumped out of a plane not long ago now I feel like I’m doing PE all over again” “Y/N JUST HELP BUILD THE CANON” “I'M TRYING ODDLY ENOUGH I'M NOT BUILT FOR THE MILITARY”once the canon was built Tommy and tubbo ran off with it “who’s going to tell them we need to test it” once Mr military shouted they ran back “why do we have to do this” “it’s the fucking rules Tommy and life is full of them” “like taxes” “tax fraud” a few seconds later the five of you yelled “bang” neither of you saying it at the same time “it didn’t work” “yes it did now come on”

you all ran towards the next obstacle, a giant wall. you all quickly dismantled the canon, Tommy went over first and began bickering with Mr military about him not being his dad whilst you tubbo and jack struggled to pass over the heaviest part of the canon “lift and lift” “really George? I thought we could just throw it over and hope he catches it” “Please don’t do that” “I am very sorry George but I'm struggling here” you continued your struggling tubbo tried to help Tommy through his words “you’re strong bossman I believe in you” “by the way, you really picked the shortest people to do this” part of the canon landed with a thud “welp hope he’s not dead” you climbed over next again carrying the wheel “he’s not dead guys don’t worry” you laughed as George took his time getting over the wall “I'm poving” “GET OVER THE WALL” you all stood questioning what time you were on completely forgetting that you were supposed to reassemble the canon “This is going to be embarrassing” “you guys could be rebuilding the canon” you could have built and tested the canon quickly however Tommy George and tubbo began telling people to subscribe whilst you built the canon with jack “we’re so good at this” “heh maybe not” you all test-fired the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

you were sent to go over the rope first, this was extremely difficult for you, the rope kept swaying as you walked causing you to lose your balance on multiple occasions “step on the V” “I’m going to fall” you made it over after a couple of minutes, like tubbo you also felt a bit ill, you assumed it was because it was quite hot and a lot was going on “how you feeling y/n” “Honestly, I’m jealous of ranboo, he’s at home living his best life and I’m in the middle of the woods overheating and climbing but no it’s pretty funny watching the others” you laughed as you overheard tubbo talking about how they’re only three obstacles in and how he’s going to die “YOU GOT THIS TUBBO!” Tommy crossed next, like you, he took his time he was then followed by tubbo who was trying to speed run walking over the rope you waited for jack and George cheering them on whilst Tommy was asking around for water and complaining about wearing a gamer hoodie. at this point, everyone seemed unmotivated “3 2 1.. bang”

“oh lovely..tires” tubbo went through first with the heaviest part of the canon “ill help you tubbo” you following behind helping him carry it due to it being stupidly heavily “so how are you tubbo” “AAAAAAAAAAA” “aye me too bud” you and tubbo decided that from now you two were going to work as a pair so it would be easier for you both, over the past few weeks tubbo became one of your closest friends the pair of you even started trending on Twitter as you did an irl stream where you both went on a walk at the beach and met several fans. whilst you and tubbo were making your way through Tommy jack and George we’re trying to figure out who should take what. “there’s piss in this one” “what the fuck?!” the pair of you finally got out from the tires “good job you two” “thank you” you rested your head on tubbos shoulder trying to get your breath back “I don’t think I’m made for the military” a few moments later Tommy made it to the tire full of water and put his finger in it “PEE” “Tommy why-” you stood looking around at the scenery, the sound of Tommy yelling about crawling away from George and that he’s ‘touched the piss’ was enough the drag you away from your own thoughts, you watched the others struggling to get through the tires and was amazed at the fact tubbo went back in to help them. you tried to ignore Tommy and George being dramatic as you tried to figure out how many more obstacles you had to go but you got distracted by George “ill just eat you if you die” “Mr military I’d like some help right about now” you walked over to Tommy and helped him get out of the tires “thanks y/n” “welcome” “how you doing bossman you know I pulled through your part...what are you doing that’s George's water” Tommy decided to throw the bottle to you so you could have a drink as he remembered you’d not had a drink since you landed from jumping out of the plane “Thanks, Tommy” “YOU BOTH DRANK GEORGES WATER” “he can drink the piss” “what Tommy said” you laughed as you walked over to where jack was in the tires “ HI JACK” “Jesus christ you scared me, hi y/n” you stood waiting for everyone to finish “I know exactly what the slowest time was” “we’re going for a new record it’s fine” “of being the slowest?” “yeah” “you know what Mr military ill clart you” “you’ll what me” “I’m gonna just go over here” you walked over to where parts of the canon were and got ready to assemble it again whilst George began throwing water over jack and tubbo to bless them then did the same to Tommy, you hid behind a tree thinking he wouldn’t notice you, however, he did and within a minute you too had water poured on you “Thanks, I was thirsty” “oh we know” “The fuck is that supposed to mean” “HELP BUILD THE CANON PLEASE” like last time you all built the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle

“can we just you know drag the already built canon under there with us” “absolutely not” “I tried” you all disassembled it again and like last time you and tubbo went first crawling under “I don’t want to alarm you all but it is soaking wet in here” “delightful” a few moments later you were both working well “tubbo I’m scared of the dark and it’s pitch black” “you’ve got this bossman we’re almost done” you calmed down quickly until Tommy decided to jump above the pair of you

“SORRY” “TOMMY I SWEAR TO GOD” “YOU DICK” you laughed slightly and tubbo checked up on you “you okay?” “I'm fine if you’re fine” “come on let’s finish this thing” the pair of you continued and finished relatively quickly tubbo got out first “NEVER AGAIN” “Sorry about that buddy” “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU” you helped push part of the canon out so tubbo could easily drag it out he then reached out so you could hold his hand and help pull you out “I've never been so happy to see the light” the pair of you sat on the floor waiting for the others to finish, you both made a bet on who was going to laugh first somehow you won as tubbo laughed at George and jack struggling to crawl through “YOU LAUGHED” “OH SHITTT” Russ came over to you both whilst recording so he could ask about how everything’s going “I’m covered in mud and the jumpsuit is wet, it isn’t a good day for the y/n community it was dark as hell in there “Tommy is a dick and tried to kill me and y/n” “I DIDN'T TRY TO KILL YOU BOTH” “I think he heard us” “WE ALL DID WERE NOT DEAF” “NO, BUT ACCORDING TO INSTAGRAM YOU'RE DEAD” you stared directly into the camera “sometimes it’s like I still hear jack talking to me” George and jack started complaining about how much further the is to go and how it was dirty and Tommy's response about being sorry it doesn’t fit their tory lifestyle made you burst out laughing “YOU LAUGHED” “tubbo my beloved you laughed ages ago you’ve already lost” “But we’re equal now” “no” the pair of you stood bickering to the point you didn’t realise the others had finished the obstacle and were shouting for you to test the canon “Y/N TUBBO WE NEED TO TEST THE CANON” the pair of you ran over “3 2 1 BANG”

“just going to warn you all you see that black cloud over there” “oh yay a storm is coming” you grabbed a wheel and followed behind jack across the wooden bridge “y/n he’s been splintered” “oh no poor George” “these are my gaming fingers” “no gaming for you I guess” “Stop talking about gaming dickheads” you spent a lot of time talking to George and jack whilst crossing over trying not to fall over you all even made a few plans to stream a laugh and the stream ends on jacks channel soon

you were all building the canon again whilst being informed you weren’t even halfway through and already 40 minutes in “high score” “well it’s definitely high” “Y/N??” “coming tubbo hang on my shoelace came undone” after tying your shoelace you grabbed a wheel and caught up to tubbo “if you go over tubbo ill pass it over to you and we can keep doing that” this method worked well for you both tubbo would climb over you would pass the wheel and middle part of the canon then climb over and repeat the process you heard Tommy in the background complaining about the fact he’s wearing jeans and jacks response “Yeah but I’m wearing jeans” “tubbo and y/n are almost done and you’re complaining about jeans” “jean boy pops off” “I'M WEARING JEANS AS WELL QUIT COMPLAINING” “Can we just go home and play smash bros” “Tommy this was your idea I didn’t even get on an option” “Sorry about that y/n but you get to spend time with me and gogy” “lucky me” you weren’t going to lie this was hard work and you were exhausted you felt like you could just fall asleep right where you were stood however tubbo wasn’t going to let that happen “I’m never going on an adventure with Tommy again” “me either” this of course was bullshit and you were both going on another adventure soon you stood watching your friends struggle to get over the obstacles you decided to offer your support and went to help jack and George using a similar method to that you used with tubbo “thanks y/n” “anytime” “y/n you could have helped me, tubbo pulled me over I could have been injured” “very sorry to hear that sergeant simons sucks to suck I guess” you all reassembled the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle “I hate it here” “there’s a storm on the way” “Thanks, y/n for the input” “welcome George” you all noticed the net luckily you didn’t have to disassemble the canon this very well could be because you were running far behind and a storm was on its way. you watched as the others went through and joked about tubbo losing his shoe and Tommy getting stuck, this obstacle wasn’t made for you either as you kept getting caught on the net “I'VE BEEN CAUGHT AGAIN” jack lifted the net for you again so you could easily crawl through “thank you jack” you all then made it to the next obstacle Tommy crawled on the metal bars with you following after him whilst George used the monkey bars once you all made it across you had to walk across many metal planks used to form a bridge Tommy walked close behind you knowing you were extremely clumsy and didn't want you to fall “irl nettles” “The fuck are you on about Tommy I don’t think you’re following my advice about going outside” you all dissembled the canon as you got to the tires the only difference this time was you needed to climb over them “it’s rather windy” “there’s dirt in my eye” like before you and tubbo used the same method “look at them go” “I LIKE A DA BEE” “I'M SCARED OF BEES” “oh okay” “Why do they keep taking the plank” “I don’t know tubbo just takes it and y/n follows” you both finished rather quickly and neither of you got injured or fell “really good job you two” “thank you Mr military” you stood leaning on tubbo watching George pick up random rocks and put them into his pocket similar to what you had been doing the entire way around the course “I don’t think George or y/n have been outside before they keep picking things up like souvenirs” “Y/N GEORGE HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE RAIN BEFORE” both of you just stared at Tommy making him laugh you helped the others get across the tires and even helped prevent Tommy from falling a couple of times. unfortunately, you ended up twisting your ankle but tried to ignore it not wanting to ruin the vlog for anyone, not that you would have, however it was clear you were in pain as you had started limping. one at a time you all crossed the rope “This is me climbing I am climbing” you cheered everybody on and then it was your turn

unlike the others the rope kept shaking as you walked across mainly because you were scared of falling and in pain all whilst trying to rush, this was clearly your least favourite obstacle of the day “take your time y/n don’t fall” “thank you jack I'm trying my best I promise” once at the end of the rope, Tommy took the wheel off you and helped you get down and pulled you into a quick side hug “you’re doing great let’s go we’re almost done” you knew your friends wouldn’t make you continue if you really didn’t want to however you were nearly finished and was determined to finish. you all reassembled the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

“there’s no way we’re getting through that without twanging a rope” “good luck” you and tubbo made your way through the ropes trying not to hit them, this proved to be a pretty impossible task and you ended up twanging the ropes several times, this mixed with everyone else’s failure to cross without hitting the rope meant you all had to do 20 push-ups, after reassembling the canon twice as you all didn’t do it correctly the first time and testing it you all had to do the push-ups “I’m sure y/n and George only did 3” “sorry bossman”

you all were finally making your way to the last obstacle determined to finish “Big Russ can we go to McDonald's after this” “sure” the five of you cheered and ran the last obstacle quickly disassembling the canon, you led the way over the obstacle tubbo Tommy jack and George following behind you, despite tubbo losing his shoe and George going backwards the five of you quickly completed the obstacle and reassembled and tested the canon running over to the finishing line

you all finally completed it and waited for your result “45 minutes easily” “1 hour 11 minutes and 46 seconds” “no way that’s a world record” “well we tried” the five of you stood telling people to subscribe before ending the recording and making your way back to the car

the car ride back felt a lot longer than the way there. you were all exhausted

“how’s your ankle” “it’s not too bad it’ll probably hurt more tomorrow morning”

“I'm still not over Tommy trying to kill me and tubbo” “I didn’t try to kill you” “sure” the rest of the journey was chaos you all screamed along to the songs on the radio eventually you all got to McDonald's and spent the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company.

taglist

@l0ver0fj0y @c1loudee

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bts-trash-blog · 4 years

Text

Best Of Us

Chapter 3: Kim Namjoon

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

Chapter Edited

PREV._.NEXT

“Mom! Stop squishing my cheeks.” You complain, the night sky was peaking through the kitchen curretens, your wet hair falling around your cheeks as your mother cooed to your face. Her eyes close as she made a kissy face at you, making you let out a gasp pushing her away as you two let out giggles. You were lucky to be able to go home on time, your mom picking you up just as Jin left, a small wave towards you had your mother tensing as she looked at you. You Let her know who he was and her chest released a breath as she then teased you about how handsome he was, though her body tensed again when she took a deep breath in. Explaining further what happened she nodded, though still tense with the Alpha scent swirling around the two of you.

But now you’re showered, one of your fathers collage thin long sleeve t shirts, covers your torso, basketball shorts on your legs she was relaxed. She was in almost matching attire, though she was sporting one of his plain black shirts, one he wore all the time, so soft you could almost feel it without even touching. Her hair in a bun make up still on, though her lips stain was smudged on her chin, a red stain mushing with her foundation only a little. Her mascara rubbed under her eye, she always hold such a soft caring character. Though a beta, her mothering sometimes reassembled ones of Omegas, or so you heard.

“But my pup is just so cute.” You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname she teases you with the nickname, the one Yoongi had used when speaking to you. It was odd, unprofessional though it didn’t come from some type of dominant drive plan, no it came from a soft place one of kindness, foundess maybe. It had your heart pounding. The worst part about it, you knew they could hear it, and that your mother right now could somewhat hear the difference.

“Mom, I’m not a pup anymore.” She rolls her eyes, turning back to the steamer to check if the dumplings were done, smiling at the way the steam lifted in the air. The smell of pork and veggies has you stomach crawling, the sound of it gurgling had her laughter fill the small kitchen of your home.

“You may not be a pup, but you still love your mama's cooking like one.” She giggles as you let out a whine from the teasing, your body moving quickly to the table. As you sat she moves and dished some rice, placing it down as she also placed a couple dumplings sitting in her spot as she placed the steamer in front of you. You hand opening the lid, chopstick grabbing the first, shoveling the hot, chewy ball of dough and meat into your mouth. Making you huff out as you do from the heat. “You are gonna burn your mouth, Y/n.” She scolds, a smile on her face as you frown at her, cheeks stuffed as you swallow.

“Can’t help you’re cooking is just so good. It’s unfair women.” You grumble, taking a mouth full of rice as she smiles at you.

“Just eat.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” As you eat, the soft silence that surrounds you makes you feel safe and at home. Her occasionally placing a veggie on your rice or guiding them into your mouth, pointing, sliding the glass of water towards you made you feel taken care off. It comforted your tired mind, your omega feeling safe. A purr leaving your chest when she stood up and ran her hand through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. Eyes closing as she smiles, happy she can bring you comfort after a most likely stressful day. Knowing she’d have to do it tomorrow, and the day after that, yet it brought her comfort as well. Knowing she can do what you father once did, even in her own way.

“Tried?” She asks, making you nod, she watches as your chewing slows as her fingers massage your scalp, her smile growing as she stops making you start whining at her. “Oh hush, now did these Alphas treat you okay, you just said you split coffee on yourself, nothing else.

“Very.” One worded response had her huffing, rolling her eyes as she bumps your shoulder with her hip as she picks up the now empty steamer, placing it back on the counter.

“I would like a better response, especially since you showed up in my car with one of their tops on.” You blush, eyes opening as you take a gulp of your water hand gripping the glass tightly as you nod slowly.

“Yeah Mr.Jung offered it to me since my shirt was soaking and I just never got the chance to change back into it after it dried, though the coffee stain did make it hard to want to change back.”

“And not his scent?”

“He’s mated, to Mr. Min and their omega.” Your words had her freeze rinsing the dishes, nodding slowly as you let out a soft hum.

“A trio? Huh I think I did read somewhere that they were one, just didn’t look into it.”

“I had no idea, and I felt stupid.” Your mumbled words head her throwing her head back with a laugh making you pout at her.

“Your stupid? You know who you are, right?” Nodding she looked at you, turning to face you hand resting on her hip making you cross your arms over your belly, sweater paw hands. “You are one of the smartest people I know, that I bet that Bambam and Lisa know. So never doubt yourself, “

“It was just a comment.” You mumbled, looking down at your sock covered feet, she tuts as you look up at her.

“Just a comment? Yeah from you, it was not just a comment. You undermine yourself every day, now go brush your teeth and go to bed. Work never waits for you.”

As you exit the elevator, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile, coffee already in hand. Placing the coffee holder on the desk next to an already wide awake Jin, he smiles at you, you walking towards Yoongi's door. As you did you saw a body leave, though Hoseok's shirt that was hanging in the curve of your arm, seeming to catch the man's eye as he let out a growl. Going up to you, making you shrink back. Though the sweet smell of pears mixing with peaches had your head spinning, and your scent or maybe your movements had the man freezing. He shakes it off, hand reaching front he top as he growls at you.

“Why do you have my mates' shirt?” You stan frozen, lips parted as you let out a whimper, Yoongi's door opening as he let out a whistle catching the man's attention.

“Both of you are in here now.” Following his orders with a nod, the two of you walk in though you make sure the Omega, their third, their mate was first inside, waiting for him to move. As Yoongi sees the pitch black Americano in your hand he gives you a smile and takes it, making the Omega male growl. “Namjoon, knock it off.”

“She had Hoseok's shirt.” Namjoon whines, with a stomp making Yoongi roll his eyes, hand slipping to the back of his neck making Namjoon poute drop into a droopy smile. You awkwardly play with the jacket sleeve having decided to wear a hoodie, your fathers hoodie, instead of a blazer though you were in a black button down and black slacks. Still professional, yet you felt more comfortable. Though right now, you felt the opposite of that. You tried to control your scent, though your distress must’ve captured their attention.

“Y/n don’t worry about my little one over here, he’s just possessive after his..uh heat.” You nod slowly, not really in a position to say that you understand. Cause you didn’t. You understood the heat part, but being possessive of someone , no clue. You had no one. So all you could understand was the pain of being alone, the depression that came after a heat. That's all you know.

“That fine..I guess I understand.” You mumble, your hand only tightened around your wrist, Namjoons eyes lingering as you play with your jackets.

“Sure you do, I don’t smell alpha on you. See she co-”

“Namjoon, you have no right to get like this. You agreed to her being our intren. So knock it off.”

“Hyu-”

“I’m just gonna go get to wo-”

“You’re working with me today, sit.” You take a breath in, eyes widening as you look to the chair he gestured at. Slowly moving, eyes staying to the ground, knowing the two mates where glaring at one another, you hear the Omega huff

“Then I’m staying.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” You sat down, just as you watched Namjoon throw himself on an identical couch that was in Hoseok office. In fact the office was pretty much identical though the walls were an off blue grey tone. Your body moved the jacket off, placing it on your lap, wishing your father's scent was still lingering on the fabric. Though very few pieces of fabrics at the home smelt like him, his bedsheets, his mattress, even his pillow. That's pretty much all of it. You left all these objects to your mother. Blinking slowly at the ipad, your ipad sat in front of you on a case, a keyboard connecting as you look to Yoongi.

“So you are gonna go through these complaints on our newest product and find the most common complaints, problems there are.” Nodding you fall into your work mode, hand moving to the keyboard, opening email after email, making a list of every complaint.

Hours passed,your body now almost completely hunched over, eyes dazed as you pull back and let out a yawn. Hand moving to kneaded at the jacket in your lap. Your eyes reading over yet another dramatic complaint over the price of the product, making you huff. Jin had brought you your coffee once he realized you weren’t coming back, it was snow empty resting behind your ipad, Yoongi's cup was next to it. Namjoon had huffed, and puffed for the first hour, scrolling through his phone but now he was on his own laptop, bobbing his head.

You had finally gotten a good look at him. His hair was an ash blonde, though the roots were dark. His eyes were the lightest brown out of the three, rounded cheeks and board shoulders. He wasn’t what useal male omegas looked like, though he did have features like an omega. His hips were widers, and his thighs thick, but you could tell, even under the large black sweater, he was muscular. Just like his mates. He had even dimples, fucking dimples. When Yoongi had called for him, a smile had blinded you when he skipped to the desk, and sat on top of Yoongi's lap. As if to gloat. But the extra, dramatic smile dropped when he saw how happy you looked at the two. A small, welcoming smile falling on his lips as he kissed his mate and got back up moving back to the couch.

That was over an hour ago, you were now feeling sitting for four hours straight catching up to you, the back pain that had only started to happen after the accident, was spiking up your back. The muscles around your spine tense, spassuming making you reach back, eyes closing as you massage at the area. A soft grunt passing your lips making Namjoons eyes snap up, Yoongi's eyes trailing over to you as you tried to adjust yourself in your seat. Failing.

“Everything okay Y/n?” Namjoon asked, headphones sliding down his head, around his neck. You look at him, giving him a slightly painful smile as you nod, then shrug.

“Eh, back is killing me.”

“Period?” He wonders, making you look at him with a head tilt, wondering how a stranger could be so bold. “What I know is female, no matter what sub gender, get them. It is what helps you guys..be..get pregnant. I..sorry if it was too personal.”

“No, just..it wasn’t..just not used to stanger caring.” You mumble eyes drifting back to your emails, silence falling back between the three of you. When you straighten your back, sharp pain makes you stand as you let out a whine. “Fucking hell..sorry.” You whisper, hand falling to your lower back as Yoongi looks at you with wide eyes. Namjoon is already at your side as you look at him, comfort. All you felt was comfort as his hand met your lower back.

“Are you sure it's not your period? I've read that female' omegas hips move up to that age twenty-five. It could be that.” he mumbled making you blush as you shake your head, taking a deep breath. Feeling comfort at his warm hand against your back.

“Yeah it’s not that..I..I got in a really bad car accident my freshman year of college, been messed up ever since.” Your words caused worry to etch on his face as he looked at you then down to the chair you were in.

“No lumbar support probably doesn’t help any damage that was caused, Yoongi what the heck she's worked for you for two days and you already are causing problems for her.” he mumbles, making your eyes wide as Yoongi let out a growl.

“It’s not like I knew about this, if I did I would’ve gotten things to help her. Can you stop touching her.” His words had Namjoon growling, bringing you closer to his side, making you stumble, his hand working the muscle cramp, made you lean into him. “Now, Namjoon.”

“No. Omegas help, and I rather do this then you or Hoseok, or even Jin. “ His words were filled with growls, hand pressing against your back moving you towards the couch.

“Namjoon.”

“Yoongi.” You look to see your boss now pouting, as the Omega had you sit down on the couch, hand moving against you back as Yoongi sighed. Picking up the jacket from the ground making you stand and growl, rushing to grab it as you let out a whine once you realized what you did.

“Sorry..it’s..it was my dads.” You mumble clutching it to your chest. Yoongi's glare fell at your broken words as you took a breath and looked at him. “I think...I think i’m gonna finish going through the emails out there with Jin.” You mumbled, grabbing you things, quickly scurrying out of the room. You had felt so comfortable, way too comfortable in fact. You had growled at Yoongi, had let Namjoon, a stranger touch your back. His scent now lingering around and on you as you exit. The two watching eyes wide, following after you. Worry etched in their eyes, but also confusion filling them.

Both wondering why they wanted you back, wanting you to be wrapped in their arms, dripping in their scents, your scent of freshly baked cookies mixed with chocolate had their mouths watering. It was driving them insane. Wondering why seeing the tears in your eyes hurt them.

Yet when their eyes met, it all made sense.

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 years

Text

A King’s Ransom, Part Twelve

Word Count: 5791

TW: Smut (PiV, unprotected). 18+ only.

AN: Part of an unfinished series. The series masterlist here.

In a perfect world, Nevada would have spent the entire day in bed with you. He would have woken you up for sex - and in fact, that was his intention when he himself woke up. But you were curled up on your side, facing him, and in the morning light, the dark circles under your eyes were more prominent. He didn’t have the heart to wake you. Not after the night you’d spent together – you had drifted off for a while, but he’d been woken up at least twice with you whimpering and crying in your sleep.

He got up, showered, and got dressed, and then he sat on the edge of the bed and shook you gently until you woke up.

“What time is it?” you asked. Your voice was husky with sleep, and you blinked at him owlishly.

Nevada glanced at his phone. “It’s early,” he replied. “You can either stay here and sleep, or you can go to breakfast with me.”

You stretched underneath the sheets, languid as a cat. “I’m getting choices now. You going soft on me, Ramirez?”

He glared at you, but your stomach growled. You sat up and swung your legs around until you were sitting beside him. You fished around for your discarded clothes, and as you did, your stomach growled again.

“Breakfast it is,” Nevada said, and he smacked your ass as you made your way past him to reassemble yourself in the bathroom.

He took you to a nearby diner, a greasy spoon that served their food fast. Nevada watched you pick at a Belgian waffle, and he waited until you were done to ask about your upcoming calendar.

“I’m going back to work on Monday,” you told him. You pressed a fingertip to the bruise on the side of your face, testing it. “I should be presentable by then.”

“Come by the club tonight,” he ordered, and you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“For business or pleasure?”

“Why not both?”

You chuckled but shook your head. “The bass hurt my head the last time I was there. Maybe in another week or so.” You glanced up and noted his scowl. “I could meet you at your place, or you could come to my place, if you really want to talk business though.”

Nevada snorted and finished off his espresso. “You gonna let a stray dog like me into your house?”

“You’ve already been in my house, Nevada,” you said, and there was no teasing in your voice. “You can come back anytime, if you’d like.”

------

Nevada dropped you off at home and promised to send a guy along with your groceries. You leaned across the backseat of the SUV and laid a gentle kiss on him before you slid out and shut the door behind you, and he tried to ignore the warm flush it sent through his chest.

He went to the club and counted the take from the previous night. Listened to some complaints about rivals infringing on his territory. Got a list of people with delinquent accounts. If he didn’t focus on his work, his mind drifted to the previous night, and not just how it felt to fuck you again after so long. More than anything, he thought about the look on your face when you wrapped your hand around his arm and told him, breathlessly, that you had missed him.

Nevada wasn’t deluded. No one ever missed him, not really. Maybe his mother, but she lived with his sister’s family in a massive villa on the Amber Coast, and she was surrounded by a bevy of grandchildren and siblings and nieces and nephews. Girlfriends of the past maybe missed him when they were horny, but more likely, they missed his money or his influence. No one ever missed him.

You didn’t look like you were lying when you said it though. But why on earth would you miss him? It had to be the sex, he decided. The other thing – for the first time, you had opened up about your own mysterious life. Nevada wondered what that meant, you confiding in him. That couldn’t be because of the sex.

Lying in bed and talking, falling asleep against you…it felt suspiciously like a relationship, or as close an approximation as Nevada could figure. But it couldn’t be. You refused his money and his help. He gave you nothing other than sex and aggravation, and he doubted the former made up for the latter.

He got through all of his tasks and then turned to the business plan you had dropped off the day before. He ignored the top sheet with its damning handwritten note, but everything under it was genius stuff. His knee-jerk reaction was to be angry – it was a plan for going straight – but his brother-in-law had pretty much reiterated what you had listed in your plan: the business was going to change on them, and they needed to shift gears now. And you insisted time and again that his criminal activity didn’t bother you.

Especially since you claimed to have your own less-than-legal activities to speak of.

*****

You went home and took a hot shower, then you curled up on the couch and settled into another day in front of the television. You drifted in and out of sleep, but it was thin and full of unsettling dreams that felt too near to reality, and you woke up every time with a start. You didn’t feel terribly exhausted though – Nevada had put you to sleep, even if it wasn’t the best sleep.

There had been a shift between the two of you, and it felt seismic. You had helped him with his migraine, and he had actually let you. He had offered to listen about your recent struggles with your real work, and you had actually obliged. You idly wondered if he thought of you as more than just a diverting hookup.

You ate lunch, watched TV, drifted off. Woke up with a start, paced around the house a little. Ate dinner, watched TV, and drifted off again. Woke up covered in a sheen of sweat, panting and teary. Watched TV, watched the programming switch to junky infomercials.

You were half-hypnotized by an infomercial for airbrush makeup when there was an insistent pounding on your front door. You crept over and peered through the spyglass. It was dark outside, with little eddies of snow swirling on the porch. Nevada blended into the shadows almost perfectly. You could only just make out his scowling handsome face.

You unchained the door and threw the deadbolt and invited him in. For all his bravado, he hesitated for a second, so you placed a hand on his arm and pulled him across the threshold.

You shut and locked the door, then turned to face him. He looked uncomfortable and uncertain – completely unlike himself. His kicked his boots off so that the snow wouldn’t melt on your carpet and then looked up at you with an unreadable expression in his green eyes.

“How was your day?” you asked, and he preemptively arranged his face into a scowl before he realized you were being straight and asking how he was. You felt bad – you needed to not tease him so much. He seemed to take it more seriously than you had realized.

“It was fine,” he said. Again he looked like he was waiting for a verbal blow from you, so you reached out and hugged him, winding your arms under his and around his chest, pressing your ear against him and listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat. After half a beat, he wrapped his own arms around you, holding you gently against him. “What’s this for?” he grumbled above you.

You pushed away with an embarrassed shrug. “For last night. For coming over tonight, I guess. I was lonely.”

“Where’s your roommate?”

“Jules takes the month of December off and spends it in San Letitia with her family.”

“She deserves a vacation from you,” he said, and you laughed.

“You’re probably right.” You made your way into the living room and he followed close at your heels. You settled on the couch and he sat beside you, ill at ease. “You want to talk about business? You look over the papers I left with you?”

He nodded. “I called my brother-in-law and discussed them with him. He fucking agrees with you.” You watched him clench his jaw and could feel the irritation (anger?) that he was holding back.

You turned to face him on the couch and laid a gentle hand on his knee. “I really don’t have a problem with your lifestyle choices - ” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know.”

“You can still wear black if you stop being a drug dealer,” you tried, and you were rewarded with half of a smile that twitched on the corner of his mouth, which was better than nothing.

“You’re hilarious,” he grumbled, but you could see his jaw unclenching and you considered it a victory.

“You can still be a vicious criminal,” you continued, tracing an abstract pattern on his knee with your forefinger. “Nevada Ramirez. Purveyor of mattresses without tags. Fireworks salesman. Jay-walker. Beholden to no noise ordinance designed by man or god.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you’re fucking hilarious,” he amended, and he captured your hand on his leg, grasping it lightly.

“So you want to go ahead with the purchase of the cash-based businesses?” you asked. “The dry cleaner and salon?”

“Yeah, both of those.”

“Okay. And what about opening an off-shore bank account under an LLC?”

He shook his head vehemently at this though. “Not that. I don’t fucking trust it.”

You sighed. “Nevada, what’s the point of laundering your dirty cash now if you’re just going to keep it in cash form? Besides, off-shore is safe and can earn good interest - ”

“And off-shore can be stolen,” he snapped, and his meaning felt clear to you. He thought you were going to steal from him. You felt your own temper flare up.

“Keeping it in bundles in your warehouse is safer?” you snapped back. “Paper money burns. Paper money can be stolen by any asshole who walks past it. Paper money can be seized by cops and never returned. Off-shore has a million fail-safe options.” You jerked your hand out of his. “And if you’re implying that I’d rob you, fuck off. I only rob people who deserve it. I don’t need your fucking money, Ramirez.”

You expected him to fight you, like he always did. It was your pattern – the back and forth bickering until it flared into a full-blown fight that was resolved after a stretch of the silent treatment and then makeup sex that felt desperate. Rinse, repeat.

Instead, though, he hung his head. “I know you don’t need my money,” he said. “You never take it when I offer it.”

“Is that what this is about?” you asked, surprised. “You all but accuse me of trying to steal your cash and then get upset because I don’t take it?”

He shrugged but didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was to say, “every other woman I dated wanted money.”

You stared at him, an awareness dawning on you. He was used to being used by women, and you weren’t using him at all. You were throwing him off balance. Maybe he wanted to be in a relationship and didn’t know how to without being used?

“Are we dating, Nevada? Is that what we’re doing?” You asked him softly, and he glanced at you before looking away. He didn’t reply. You were afraid if you pressed the point too hard, he’d get temperamental and storm off in a flurry of curses. And nothing about him made you think he was even capable of reasonable talks about feelings. To be fair, the same could be said about you.

“I’m not even sure we can date,” you continued carefully. “As a king, are you allowed to date a mere commoner?”

He still wouldn’t look at you, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch again as he fought a smile.

“How can you secure your lineage with me, a simple peasant girl from the kingdom of Inwood…”

“Fuck you,” he said, but there was no bite to it, and you knew you had him. Maybe the two of you weren’t accustomed to talking – especially about feelings or relationships – but you did have your own sort of language that you each understood. You shifted on the couch, leaning in closer to him. You placed your hand on his face and turned his head until he was facing you, staring at you with those deep green eyes.

“Isn’t that your job?” you whispered, and you delighted in how his eyes darkened. You dipped your head and kissed him softly, nipping at his lower lip until his hands were on you and pulling you against him.

You broke away long enough to straddle his lap, and then you resumed kissing him. His big hands were all over you, slipping under the hem of your cotton sleep shirt and pulling it over your head. He moved his mouth from yours and laid a series of kisses across your collarbones and neck. He shifted one palm to your breast, cupping it from underneath. He lowered his head and licked a trail over the curve of it before he latched onto your nipple. It was like an electric current from his mouth straight to your core, and you gasped above him. He sucked on it hard and drew a tortured whimper from you, and then you felt his mouth grin against your skin, probably at the sounds he was coaxing from you.

You could feel his erection pressed against the thin flannel of your sleep shorts, and you fumbled blindly at his clothes as he worked his mouth against your breasts. You pushed the leather blazer off of him easily enough, then scrabbled at the buttons of his black shirt and pushed it off too.

You pushed away from him long enough to get his undershirt over his head and off of him, then you grabbed his head and pulled it towards your own, kissing him feverishly and pressing your naked torso against his. You loved the feel of his skin against yours, the coarse hair of his chest a wonderful bit of friction.

His hands were on your hips, pulling you in a sort of rhythm until you were riding against him. His mouth was as needy as yours, his tongue plunging into your mouth and groaning against you. He tasted like mint and, underneath it, whiskey, but there was no cigarette taste. It made you smile, and he felt it. He broke away.

“What’s so fucking funny?” he growled.

You only shook your head at him and kissed him again, gently this time. “Do you want to go up to my bedroom?” you asked.

Nevada glanced over your shoulder. “Does that fireplace work?”

You turned and looked, and his hands kneaded your ass as you did. “It does. Are you cold?” You turned back to gaze down at him, and his eyes gleamed.

“I’ve never fucked by firelight,” he said, and you laughed.

“So romantic,” you replied, but you climbed off of him and went over to the fireplace. The remote control was on the mantle, and you clicked the gas and ignition on. You watched it for a moment and heard the couch cushions shift as Nevada stood up. He walked over to the doorway and snapped off the overhead lights so that the living room was only lit by the fire.

It was romantic, even if every other word out of Nevada’s mouth was something filthy. He didn’t have the vernacular, but his actions were sometimes remarkably romantic for such a scowling asshole. It made your heart hammer in your chest when you thought about it too much.

He came up behind you then, and he pulled you against him. “You okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you felt goosebumps break out across your bare skin despite the heat from the flames. You nodded and turned around to face him. You reached down and started to undress the rest of him, fiddling with his belt buckle, but he pushed your hands away. He laid his own hands on your hips and pushed your sleep shorts down until they were hooked around your ankles. You stepped out of them, and before you could do anything else, Nevada was kissing his way down your body.

He started with the hollow at your throat, then ran his tongue down between your breasts. He knelt in front of you and pressed gentle kisses to your bruised stomach, light as air, more tender than you ever thought he could be.

Then he shifted lower, and every cognizant thought poured out of your head like water through a sieve, leaving nothing but raw animal pleasure as his tongue parted your lower lips and found the sensitive pearl of your clit. It was like a jolt of electricity every time his tongue lapped against you, and your legs would have given out, but he had one arm wrapped around your ass, holding you close to him and steadying you. His other hand ran up and down your leg – first the outside, and then inside your thigh until it crept up further. He slid a digit into you slowly, finger fucking you unhurriedly as he worked his tongue against you.

You threaded your hands through his hair, steering his head greedily and drawing chuckles from him that sent further vibrations through your core. He added a second finger, crooking them inside you and touching that spot that made your toes curl. You could feel your orgasm approaching like a stampede, and you were afraid your legs could give way.

“Please,” you whined, and Nevada pulled away to look up at you. His mouth was glistening with your arousal, and he grinned up at you with a predatory air.

“What?” he asked as innocently as he could. “Tell me what you want.”

You gripped his hair and tilted his head back further so that he was gazing up at you. “I want you,” you whispered hoarsely, and you shimmied out of his grasp to kneel in front of him. His mouth crashed against yours, and you moaned to taste yourself on him. You reached down blindly, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, shoving them off of his hips, fumbling until he broke away to strip the rest of his clothes off.

Instead of pushing you onto your back, though, he laid down on his back on the shaggy white area rug in front of the fireplace. He stared up at you for a moment, and then said simply, “if you want me, take me.”

You gazed down at him. The firelight softened the usual scowl written across his face, and it cast his tanned skin in a golden-orange glow. The flames flickered in his gold cross that lay tangled in his chest hair. You felt a strange tightening in your throat, completely unfamiliar as you stared at him. He saw something on your face and reached out to take one of your hands in his. He pulled it against his bare chest and laid it there, and you could feel his heartbeat, a steady echo to the own pulse pounding in your head.

“Take me,” he repeated. You took a shaky breath but nodded.

You straddled him, pressing your core against the length of his erection. His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was holding himself back for your benefit.

“Is this okay?” you whispered, and his eyes opened to look at you before he nodded.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and you leaned across him to place a kiss on his eager mouth. He slid his tongue into your mouth, licking you much like how he licked you earlier, and you could still taste yourself on him. His warm palms ran up your sides, up your arms that were bracing you, down your back to cup your ass. You were already warm in front of the fire, and his hands just stoked the heat in you until you were afraid you might combust. You broke off the kiss and reached down to grasp his cock, raising yourself until he was lined up with your entrance.

“Is this okay?” you repeated, unsure, but Nevada reached up with both hands to cup your face gently, mindful of your bruise there.

“Fuck me, princesa,” he growled. “I’m yours.”

*****

He half expected you to laugh at him when he touched – lightly, barely – on dating. You didn’t though. You teased him with your smart-ass fucking mouth, but he was starting to think that when you teased him, it was a form of affection. Maybe. Possibly.

Nevada thought he understood women, because up until now, he did. Women were astoundingly easy: throw some cash at them, fuck them well, and they were his for as long as he wanted them. In the deepest part of him, though, a part he’d never even admit to having (let alone voice to another person), he knew that those women weren’t there for him, and he was anxious that no one ever would be.

He was able to fuck you well, but you held yourself back. There was still a reluctance there. If you were using him just for that, would you be so hesitant? If you just wanted him for his cock, why were you perched above him now, an apprehensive look on your face, asking him a million times if it was okay if you slid yourself onto him?

His hands on your face, he ran a thumb over your lower lip until you looked down at him again.

“It’s okay,” he said as gently as he could. He wanted to surge up against you, take matters into his own hands, but he tried to be patient.

Patience was a virtue, his abuelo used to tell him. Nevada was born in New York but spent summers in the Dominican Republic, entire golden months away from his squabbling parents, his spoiled brat of a little sister, the older boys from school that beat the shit out of him because he was a runt. An entire season in the outskirts of San Cristóbal, getting chubby on his abuela’s cooking, lazing in the dappled shade in the afternoons. And fishing with his abuelo, who seemed to understand Nevada’s temper in a way his parents never did, and who never got angry when he messed up and broke a line or got impatient and tried to reel in fish too soon.

“Try to cultivate patience,” the old man told him time and again. “Try to emulate the Blessed Virgin.”

Not that Nevada wanted to think about his beloved, long-dead grandfather as he lay naked underneath you, but he tried to be patient. And he was rewarded, a beat later, when you sank onto him, nearly all the way, and his wandering thoughts were focused with laser precision to the way you enveloped him in your searing wet heat.

Nevada lay still, afraid that if he pressed upwards into you, he’d not be able to stop. Patience, patience. He laid his hands gently on the tops of your thighs on either side of him, and he could feel the muscle underneath trembling with the effort as you held yourself back a bit. You were gripping his cock like a vise; the angle was deeper than usual. He looked up and saw the strain on your face and how you bit down on your lower lip.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Just relax.”

He watched your chest rise and fall as you took deep breaths, and he felt the tension loosen a bit in your legs as you lowered yourself onto him completely. He watched, feeling a bit badly, as a shadow of pain crossed your face when you were fully seated on him.

“Kiss me,” he ordered again, and you leaned forward, pulling yourself a fraction off of him and relieving whatever pain you had felt. You kissed him, sweetly at first, just a soft press of your lips against his.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. “We can stop if you want.”

You shook your head. “I just need a moment.”

He smirked up at you. “Take all the time you need, princesa. You’re in charge here.”

“Hmm,” you replied, smiling back down at him. “Is this all it takes for you to not be so bossy?”

He didn’t respond – instead, he pulled you down onto him so that you were lying on his chest, your smooth skin pressed against him, his cock still nestled in you but not as deeply. You nuzzled your face into the space between his shoulder and head, and he felt your mouth, sucking wet and stinging bruises on his neck, nipping him lightly before you soothed the sore spots with your tongue.

He groaned at the sensation, and he ran his hands over your back and up and down your arms. You were already warm, but the fire heated you up to near combustion. You shifted your head to the other side of his neck and marked him up there too, and before long, he tangled his hand in your hair and drew your head back to his face, kissing you hard and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Kissing him did something to you, and he felt you start to grind against him in this shallow position, your dripping cunt dragging against him in fantastic friction. You pushed your chest away from him a bit, sinking lower onto him. You were more relaxed now, he could feel. Your core still clenched him, but as you sat up on him and straddled him, he felt you seating yourself again without any apparent pain written across your face.

“Fuck,” he hissed as you started to find a pace. The hesitation on your face from earlier was gone, replaced by apparent pleasure. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and mostly shut, and your kiss-swollen lips were parted as you gave little gasps every time you sank back down onto him.

Nevada didn’t know where to touch you – he reached up to cup your breasts in his big palms, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across your pebbled nipples. He slid his hands down to your waist and then onto the swell of your hips, kneading the flesh there as you rode him in a slow and steady pace.

He felt sweat spring out across his skin from the heat of the fireplace, and he felt you sweating from your efforts too. Your skin looked reddish-gold in the light of the flames, gleaming from exertion, your hair a tangled mess, your face intent on fucking him. It was the most erotic thing Nevada had ever seen, but more than that – he felt that uncomfortable pang in his chest again.

If he were in charge, he’d push the feeling away, but since you were doing all the work, he didn’t.

Instead, he looked down at where the two of you were joined; he felt the pang twist again with a bolt of pain that wasn’t quite pain, not really. He reached out and touched the place, where he disappeared into you like he was made to fit you exactly and you were made to take him perfectly. He feel light-headed from the thought and from the heat of the flames and from the way your core gripped him, so he looked up at you to see if you felt the same way. Your eyes were still shut.

“Look at me,” he whispered hoarsely, and your eyes fluttered open, vacant until you were able to focus on him. You narrowed your eyes at bit at him, almost quizzically, and the look on his face made you reach out and place one of your hands over his heart.

There were words crowding against the inside of his skull like flies trapped against a window, buzzing to get out and escape. Words he hadn’t said ever – or if he had, it was when he was very small and too young to know that he had to bury those words and never even think them, let alone say them aloud. Three words, in English, but when they threatened to creep out, Nevada bit them back and said three different words.

“You are mine,” he growled, and he dug his fingers into your hips to drive home the words. You tilted your head at first, then started to shake it in disagreement, but he didn’t let you argue. “Fucking say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re mine.”

“Nevada…” you started, but he shifted his hand and slid a thumb against your clit, and his name turned from a warning to a sigh in your mouth. He pressed his thumb lightly and smirked when you bucked your hips forward for more.

“Say it, princesa,” he said, a shade nicer but still insistent. He watched the struggle play across your face: the needy chasing of pleasure battling the stubborn persistence to be independent. He pressed a bit harder and saw the exact moment that pleasure won.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, and you stared at him hard, almost angry. He thrummed against your clit, and the anger faded away as you picked up the pace as you rode him. Nevada started thrusting up into you as you pressed down on him, and he felt his orgasm approaching as he buried his cock into you, his hand still touching the place where you were joined.

“You’re mine,” he panted, and you nodded your head now, overtaken with your own pleasure to the point where you’d probably agree to anything he said.

“I’m yours,” you repeated in a husky whisper, and he felt you come then, your cunt tightening against him, rippling along his length as you whimpered and shuddered above him. He shut his own eyes, gave one final thrust as best he could, and then he followed you.

-----

You had eventually coaxed him upstairs to your bedroom, and Nevada fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t wake until morning, and he reached out to the other side of the bed for you. But you weren’t there, and the space beside him was cold, so you obviously hadn’t been there for a while.

He got dressed and made his way downstairs, following his nose to the smell of cooking bacon. He found you in the kitchen, standing by the stove in a flannel robe and giant fuzzy socks that swallowed your feet and made you look like a little girl. When you turned to face him and brush a kiss on his stubbled cheek, he saw how tired you looked. Your healing bruise was a sickly green-yellow on your skin, but the shadows under your eyes were deep.

Nevada wondered if you’d slept at all last night. Whatever you’d seen on your little spy program was sucking the life out of you. And worse than that, driving you to risky behavior that could get you killed.

He sat at your kitchen table while you slid a plate and a mug of coffee in front of him. He tucked into breakfast – eggs scrambled with tomatoes and jalapeno, crispy bacon – and you watched him. Not eating, just nursing a mug of coffee. When he asked if you were going to eat, you just shook your head and replied that you weren’t hungry.

“You didn’t sleep?” he guessed, and you nodded.

“I don’t know what’s so bad that you’re this fucked up over it,” he continued, “but you’re not going out to your fucking fight clubs anymore.”

You rolled your eyes and cleared his plate away. You went over to the sink, rinsing it off, and Nevada got up to follow you. He waited until you put the plate down, and then he turned your around to face him.

“No more of that,” he growled. He held your face, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you said, and even though you were smiling slightly, your voice had a steely edge to it. “Remember, I’m a citizen of Inwood. Outside of your rule, your highness.”

“Remember,” he retorted, “you’re mine. You said so…multiple times last night.”

“Temporary insanity. Not admissible in any court of law.”

He smirked. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t mean it, princesa.”

“Maybe,” you conceded, your smile widening. “But wouldn’t that also imply that you’re mine?”

He pressed himself against the length of your body, trapping you between him and the sink. “I am.”

Your eyes widened, and you grinned at him. “So we are dating now. I haven’t an actual boyfriend in a long time.”

“A mouthy bitch like you? I can’t imagine why,” he grumbled.

You snorted and then poked him in his side. “What now? You going to send me flowers again? Take me to fancy dinners, buy me gaudy jewelry? Start barking more about my wardrobe?”

Nevada turned your face back to face him, gentle but insistent. He ignored your teasing for the moment. “I’ll send you flowers every day, but you aren’t fighting anymore,” he said. He glared at you to make sure you knew he was serious. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off before you could start.

“You got seriously hurt. You could have been killed. You have shit you need to work out, you see me. No more fighting.”

“I’m healing fine, and I wouldn’t - ”

He cut you off again. “It made me sick to my fucking stomach to see you get hit like that,” he said, his voice low. “I felt helpless. So no more.”

You looked at him a long moment but finally nodded. “If I have stuff bothering me, I’ll see you first,” you said carefully, and while Nevada noted that you didn’t exactly agree to stop fighting, at least you were meeting him more than halfway. It was better than he had expected, actually.

He pulled you to him and kissed you firmly, and he felt you wend your arms around his neck. He broke away and murmured, “Good. Now show me these pictures that got you so fucked up.” He waited a long moment and added, “You don’t need to carry it alone anymore, cariño.” He waited another beat until you reluctantly nodded, then he pressed a second kiss to your forehead.

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez x you #trouble in the heights #trouble in the heights fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

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thatgoblin · 3 years

Text

Dirty Bird Part 2

Summary: Kit Rogers has had a crush on her best friend Carlos for years. They always flirt, Carlos more so than Kit, but it’s just fun and games with no serious intention. At least until Carlos finds Kit’s phone unlocked and open to a very specific romance book. Then all bets are off and Carlos will win this game of who will be the first to break and make a move. The others are collateral damage and wish Carlos and Kit would just bang already.

Warnings: Smut, porn, kinky porn, bondage, edging, dirty talk, sexting, sex toys, praise kink, gun play, knife play, sexual harassment, a very tired and very done with his crew Chris Redfield.

The next day I had to take a physical test to see if I was still combat ready. I hadn’t been on a mission for nearly a year and a half, which wasn’t odd as I was usually the one to prep for the missions and work remotely, but they wanted everyone to handle anything in case they were required on a mission. Given the nature of our work, it was better safe than sorry. No one wanted to be caught in any situation unprepared.

Claire Redfield was my instructor for the test and I would have to pass to be able to keep working. Well, not really so much. It was never that cut and dry, but I would be given time to brush up on my skills before being tested again.

First was the gun range. That part was easy. I was pretty good at hitting the targets and keeping the guns clean. Taking them apart and then reassembling them wasn’t my strongest suit, but I didn’t do too bad on my time. Next was field medic training. Again, not that hard. I was familiar with the tools and how to work with different injuries. The last part was hand to hand combat. That was the part I was concerned about. While I was pretty dexterous with my hands, I was okay on my feet. Klutz was not a term I would use to describe me, but compared to the field grunts they were skilled dancers and I was a white dad at a middle school dance.

Too many times did I hit the mat we sparred on. For each strike or kick I’d try to dodge, Claire was ready with another that would catch me off guard. The knife fighting was even worse. Working with rubber knives that would retract into the handle, we were safe from actually stabbing one another, but Claire still landed the blows pretty heavily. My body was going to be littered with bruises.

“Rogers, come on,” Claire said as I tried to hold my knife, but was doing it wrong. “Blade up, not down. This isn’t Lord of the Rings.”

“Shit,” I cursed, fixing my hold only to get thunked in the chest by Claire throwing her knife squarely into my chest. “Shit.”

“You were doing pretty good up until the sparring,” Claire said as she walked over to me. “I can give you a 70% passing rate, but you’re gonna have to work on your combat moves more.”

“Shit,” I groaned, handing over the sparring knife.

“I’ll give you a month to get better, then we’ll retest you. Till then I’d find a teacher and start practicing at least two times a day,” she said. “Sorry, Kit.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “I’ll ask Jill or Sherry if they have time to help me practice.”

“Surprised you’re not considering Carlos,” Claire said with a giggle.

“Why’s that?” I asked as we walked towards the locker room.

“Well, the way he’s been trying to get your attention for the last week has been, well, very open,” she said.

“Oh god, does everyone know?” I whined, my shoulders slumping.

“I mean, it’s kinda hard not to know. The way you get all flustered and red in the cheeks when he starts talking softly, it’s not easy to miss,” she said with a grin.

“I mean, I’m used to him flirting, but like in his own way. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but he has. . . Oof, he’s stepped up his game,” I said. “I swear, Claire, he says things to me and I have no idea how he knew that it was my weakness. Before I could just joke around with him, but now it’s really hard to not, you know, be turned on by it.”

“What is he saying?” Claire asked.

“I mean, the other day he was tying my shirt for me and was just ON me with his breath right by my neck and that small grunt. Then yesterday he called me ‘kitty’ in Portugese and told me to be his good girl. I nearly fell over because he was freaking knelt in front of me while saying this,” I said. “I don’t know if he’s trying to kill me, but goddamn.”

“Wow, he called you Kitty and didn’t get murdered,” Claire said as we started to strip for a shower. “Leon’ll be jealous.”

“Oh don’t start that. Leon is the last person I want anything romantic with. We’re coworkers at most and we’re cordial. Besides, I thought you and him were a thing,” I said, grabbing a towel to wrap around myself before we walked to the showers.

“Please, Leon is the definition of a fuck boy,” she snorted. “We tried dating on and off for so long it was like a rerun of a one season show. No one is surprised by how it ended each time it inevitably did end. Besides, you know he’s still hung on Ada. Probably always will be.”

“It’s been what, 2 years? You’d think he would have moved on a bit more by now,” I said with a sigh. “Especially since she still works here.” Getting to the shower, we hung up our towels before washing ourselves. We kept chit chatting till it was time to head back to our respective offices. Settled back at my desk, my sore muscles began to scream at me as I forced myself to focus on the work to be done. Easier said than done.

Even with a couple of ibuprofen it was still hard for me to not curse myself for skipping warm ups and cool downs. Slouching in my chair in an effort to help my lower back stretch, I gave a grunt when Carlos walked in.

“I was going to ask how your assessment went, but I can see that it probably didn’t go too well,” he said as he looked at my slumped form. I had put on a hoodie to try and use heat to help relax my muscles, but nothing save from being run over by a steamroller was going to cut it.

“I failed my combat training,” I said with sigh as I shifted to sit up, wincing as I straightened my back. “I have one month to train and retake the test or I’ll be put on probation.”

“Claire really worked you over, huh?” He asked, frowning as I nodded. “I mean, it’s not like you use it daily like a lot of us do, but at least you were given a month.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna talk to Jill about taking lessons in the morning and evening unless she goes on a mission. Then I’ll ask Sherry or Rebecca,” I said, saving my work. Standing up, I tried to stretch, but a sharp pain stole my breath and had me grabbing the desk for support. Carlos was by me in a few steps as my legs threatened to give out from under me.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist to help hold me up. “What’s going on?”

“Claire threw me around like a ragdoll, pretty sure I’m gonna have bruises all over my ass from how many times I landed on it,” I groaned. “Besides, I'm pretty sure I pulled something when trying to dodge an attack.”

“Damn,” Carlos said with a sigh as he held onto me till I was able to stand. “You want me to take a look and poke around? I’m the guy everyone comes to for a back crack,” he asked with a chuckle. He wasn’t wrong either. I’d seen him pop everyone’s back from Claire to Leon to Chris even. If you wanted something popped, Carlos was your man.

“Be careful, I don’t know if I need to be popped or walked on by preteens,” I said. Carefully, I pulled off my hoodie, leaving me in my baggy tee that Carlos lifted up to my mid back.

“You were right about the bruises,” he said with a wince. “Claire’s probably more lethal than her brother. You’re definitely going to have to train hard to make sure she doesn’t mop the floor with you next time, Kit-Kat.”

I leaned over my desk, resting on my arms as his rough hands pressed carefully to see where knots were without crippling me. It was the first time in a little over a week that we were having our usual time together. No intense flirting or flustering comments, just my guy looking after me.

Gently, he began to press along my spine as he stood next to me. Both of us were quiet, me tired and sore while Carlos was concentrating. Up and down my spine he went, even pushing my shirt up further to get to the middle of my back. I didn’t mind, even though I was leaning over my desk it felt good and relaxing. This was normal for us, helping each other with injuries or even lounging while rubbing each other’s feet with the TV on. It was probably my favorite time spent with Carlos. It was intimate without being weird or sexual. We were on the same level and enjoyed it.

“-ah!” I gasped as he pressed on a spot near the top of my tailbone. “Shit, there. Careful,” I hissed as he let up his pressure.

“Okay, okay,” he said softly. Working at a wider circle around the terribly sore spot, his fingers eased their way back in, but it wasn’t as tender as it had been right off the back. “How’s that feel?”

“Better, thanks,” I said into my folded arms. “If you ever wanna leave S.T.A.R.S. you have a career waiting for you in the massage industry.”

“Oh yeah? Think people would pay to have me slam on them with a diving elbow drop?” Carlos asked as his fingers began to wander away from my spine and over the muscles of my back.

“Carlos, I swear to god if you even try that with me right now, you will wish you’d never met me,” I growled at him.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can ever do to make me wish that,” he said with a chuckle. Pulling my shirt back in place, he gave my back a firm rub and a pat. “How’s the rest of you?”

“My neck is stiff as hell, but-”

“You still haven’t gotten a new mattress and pillow yet, have you?” He asked with a sigh.

“I am not awake or around to go mattress shopping,” I whined as I sat back in my chair. “I’ll do it some time soon. Probably.”

“Some time soon better be some time this week or I’m breaking into your apartment and stealing your current mattress. Then you’ll have to get a new one,” he snorted.

“Shush and rub my neck,” I pouted. “I like it better when you’re being nice and not being worried dad.”

Carlos grunted as his fingers pressed into my shoulders through my shirt, meandering their way to my neck at their own pace. Work was done for the day as far as I was concerned, especially since I was going to have to wait on items from my team. Which meant I could sit there and enjoy the massage without guilt.

Calloused fingers found my neck, feeling up my spine and around the sides. Carlos’s hands were big. As in BIG. The guy himself was nearly 6’4’’ and was a walking wall of muscle. One of his hands could easily wrap around my neck and touch fingertips on the other side. It was something I never told anyone about, but the idea of him holding me down by the throat with a squeeze here and there would be a dream come true for me. Just the fact that his fingers were digging into stiff muscle close to my throat had me sighing.

I closed my eyes and leaned into the touch as he moved further up, pressing at the base of my skull and just under my jaw. The combination of the pressure points had me become pudding in his hands, but what sealed my fate was the slightly choked out, high pitched moan that came out of me as his thumb pressed on a specific spot harder than before. I had no control over that sound and everything in my body just went ‘NEED’ at the press of those nerves.

Carlos didn’t stop though, he kept massaging that spot as I started to gasp and pant softly under his touch.

“Now what was that about me being your Daddy?” He asked, his voice suddenly low and thick and next to my ear. His breath was hot as he stayed there and kept working that spot without letting up.

“Carlos,” I whimpered as I started to squirm in my seat as I pressed my thighs together. “Fuck.” The grip I had on the arms of my chair was tight as he kept going. It was all I could do to keep myself together. The man was playing me like a musical instrument, making me gasp and whine like I was an anime character in heat. Those noises had never come out of me before either, which was a testament to his skill.

“If you want it to stop, just ask Daddy nicely,” he hummed, his lips a hair’s breadth from my ear. I whined as I closed my eyes, trying to get the words out.

“Daddy,” I said, panting heavier as his fingers dug into the sides of my neck. “Fuck. Daddy, please-”

A knock on my door took Carlos’s fingers away from me, leaving my body a blushing mess as he moved to sit in the lounge chair in front of my desk with a shit eating grin.

“Come in,” I called, keeping my eyes on my screen and away from the man that was trying to drive me mad.

“Hey, just wanted to stop by real quick,” Jill said as she walked into the room. “Claire told me you were going to need help with training soon and wanted to talk to me about it. . . Everything okay?”

My face was flush and I had a slight sheen to my skin as if I’d been about to break a sweat. Carlos however was on his phone as he glanced at me and winked.

“Yeah, just nursing my wounded ego,” I said, chuckling a bit before clearing my throat. “But uh, that would be great. I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out. I figured either morning or evening practice would be good.”

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll talk with you tomorrow about times as well. Just wanted to stop by on my way to look over a mission coming up,” Jill said with a sweet smile. Oh Jill. I knew she could cut through bullshit so easily, but with me and Carlos, she probably thought he was pissing me off on purpose to rile me up. It wasn’t that uncommon, especially when he had down time.

“Thanks for that. I will definitely need that, yeah,” I said, nodding. The entire conversation, even though it was short, I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Carlos’s hands on and around my neck. It had me obviously aroused judging by my noises, but more so by my underwear. Another shower would be in order once I got home, specifically a cold one.

“Cool,” Jill said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, in the meantime maybe ice your sore parts and take it easy.”

“That was the plan,” I said, giving her a soft chuckle.

“Carlos,” she said, turning to kick the man’s feet. “Come on, we have a meeting.”

“Hey,” he said with a sigh. “Alright, I’m coming. See you later Kit-Kat.” Carlos gave me a wave and his usual lopsided smile before following Jill out of my office.

Fuck.

The man was truly trying to kill me.

That night I messaged Jill about getting up in the morning for training and she agreed on the time. Which worked out because before her texts, Carlos had badgered me into going mattress shopping with him. The hot and warm that he was running was messing with my brain, but it wasn’t upsetting. We were settling into this game of sorts, seeing who would be the first one to break and demand the other. I kind of liked it, despite the lurch I’d been left in after Carlos went back to work.

Thank god for my rabbit vibrator or else I’d have shown up to work in a bad mood.

Though I would have still had my mood dip when I saw Jill was not in the training area we picked like she said she would be. She was a stickler for being punctual, so to have her not there at least ten minutes early was strange. Not wanting to make the same mistake the day before, I decided to stretch while waiting for her. I was on the floor stretching my hips when I heard footsteps in the quiet room. There were no other people there at that hour, not that I blamed them, but the clomps of heavy feet surprised me. I turned from my position to see Carlos walking towards me dressed in sweats and a grin.

“Oh what the hell!?” I cried. “Jill said she’d help me train!”

“Aw, good morning to you too, Kit-Kat,” Carlos said as he joined me on the floor to stretch. “I offered to help because I’m a much more imposing opponent. Also because Jill can’t actually make it to training. Chris sent her on an information trip to Europe. Something about Romania and such.”

“Damn it,” I huffed, flopping back onto the floor. “I could barely take on Claire and you’re like five of her.”

“Excuse me, but more like three,” Carlos said. “Girl’s got the power to back up her stature.”

“You’re telling me,” I said with a grunt.

“How’s your back doing, by the way?” He asked, moving to stand.

“It’s fine. I think I just tweaked it yesterday,” I said. “The rub down helped a ton, by the way, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, offering me a hand to help me up. “Do you want your whole body cracked before we start or do you want to go in stiff?”

I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath as I stood up. It was too early for this shit and Carlos knew it.

“Carlos,” I said after a moment as I opened my eyes. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “You wanna be stiff or flexible? I mean, being flexible would help with the pain later because I will be laying you out on your ass.”

“Jesus, go easy on me. I barely retained the basics,” I whined. “Can we go over how to do things first? Give me a fighting chance instead of murdering me?”

“Alright, alright, cool your jets, Kit-Kat,” he said. “We’ll start with the basics. You know punching and kicking, let’s work on holds. How to do one and how to get out of one.”

“Alright, let’s start with those,” I said with a nod. That was something I could do. I was squirmy and such. Though it was difficult with Claire because she knew exactly how hard to press and squeeze to keep me under control. She was just a hair bigger than me too, so god only knew how Carlos would do it.

“Alright, stand up straight. This is someone coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your neck,” he said, doing just that. His python of an arm wrapped so easily around my throat as he pressed against me from behind. Yeah, no I was going to die. “Now, swing your left elbow back. Not hard, we’re just going through the moves right now.”

“Gotcha,” I said. I did as I was told, aiming my elbow for his belly.

“Good, now keep hitting that spot till the person’s grip loosens,” he said, keeping his arm around me loose. “Then what you’re going to do is take a step forward with your right leg, then jut your hips back into me and pull as hard as you can to the right.” I did everything he instructed, even tried to pull him, but he was a heavy man. “Hold on, hold on before you hurt yourself,” he chuckled.

“Carlos, this whole thing is a danger zone for me. I’m like a little more than a foot shorter than you. The center of gravity and physics are not on my side. I am a little teapot, short and stout,” I sighed.

“Is this your handle and your spout?” Carlos asked, taking my arms by the wrists and jiggling them with a laugh.

“My foot will be my stout when I shove it up your ass,” I growled, jerking away.

“Mmmm, kinky,” he smirked. “Come on, let’s keep trying. If anything happens today, you’re gonna send me flying through the air, Kit-Kat.”

That was exactly what we did as well. The whole two hours of training I kept working on my stance and where to grab Carlos to flip him. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t do it. I could never get him off his feet no matter how many ways we tried it. My body was still sore from the day before and the workout I was doing right then was making it worse. If I messed up a step, we’d start over. If I stumbled, we’d start over. If I couldn’t lift him, which was the most common failure, we would start over.

“Come on Kit-Kat, I know you can do it,” Carlos said. “Get mad. This is about life or death. If someone comes up behind you, you better be fighting for your life instead of what you’re doing right now.”

“I am mad,” I snapped, glaring at him. “You’re too big. I can’t lift you even to your tippy toes. It’s not physically possible.”

“Not true. I’ve seen Rebecca flip Chris and she’s the same height as you. It can be done, you just gotta actually try,” he said, wrapping his arm around my neck again.

“I am trying!” I snarled. Two hours of us bickering was making me question if I was going to murder him or if our friendship would surive.

But then he wrapped his arm around my neck, tight.

Carlos was actually choking me as he pushed me to do the move. I was caught off guard by the flex of his arm cutting my air off, fear rushing through me a moment. He wouldn’t really choke me out, would he? In the bedroom I would have let him, but not during combat training.

“Come on, Kitten,” he growled into my ear as I clawed at his arm. “Show Daddy how good you are, eh?”

That mother fucker.

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to push me over the edge sexually or in anger, but it worked. I slammed my elbow into his stomach till his grip loosened. Taking advantage of the moment, I moved my left leg back instead of my right leg forward first to get a better hold, then threw his ass on the ground. Nothing was more satisfying than the sound of his yelp followed by the loud THUMP! of his body hitting the mat.

“Fuuuuuck youuuuuu,” I cried as I flipped him off while Carlos looked up at me with a grin.

“I told you you could do it,” he said as he stood up.

“I-I will kill you,” I panted, swatting at him as he came over to me. “I will murder you in your sleep, you ass.”

“Aw, but then who would be the one to bring you food on late nights? Or rub your old lady back when you need it?” He asked, chuckling as he kept coming towards me and ignoring my half hearted slaps to his chest.

“I swear to whatever god there is Carlos, if you do that again I will make sure Jill knows and she can kick your ass for me,” I growled, giving up as he still managed to wrap his arms around me in a bear hug.

“Nah, Jill loves me,” Carlos said, letting go with one arm to give me a noogie.

“God damn you!” I cried, reaching back to dig my fingers into his side. It was the one move that I knew would always have him running. The squawk that came from him was a sign of my victory as he let go to jump away. “I’m going to work and if you start being a brat again, you're not going mattress shopping with me.”

“It’s kinda cute when you threaten me,” he said with a hum. “Mostly because I know you wouldn’t hurt me even if you could. Though, who’s really being a brat here?” His eyebrows wiggled as he bit his lip, looking me up and down slowly.

“Carlos,” I groaned. “I’m going to shower so I don’t stink for the rest of the day.”

“Not before you cool down,” he reminded me. Shit. Carlos was right. I didn’t need to be hobbling everywhere that day.

“Alright alright,” I said, going right into stretching my arms across my body. He started his own cool down, moving to the side to pick up two muscle rollers that were in the room. It was one of the smaller rooms, big enough for two people to work well with space. There were five rooms total, two others like the one we were in, one larger one for a group of people and then the largest one that was more like a gymnasium. I was glad we were in one of the smaller ones, less danger of people judging my form and back seat training. There was no need to have more than one person trying to teach me when I was having trouble with one.

“Here, roll out your back,” Carlos said, throwing the foam roller at me. Not that I was paying attention. A small ‘bwuah?’ sound was all the notice for him before the roller hit me in the face. Good thing they were foam. “Jesus, Kit-Kat. Be more aware of your surroundings,” he said, cackling at my offended face. It didn’t hurt, but it was jarring and annoying. Quickly, I picked the foam piece up and chucked it back at him. Unlike me and my attention span, Carlos easily dodged it. “Yeesh, your aim is terrible too.”

“Shut up, you muppet,” I snapped, moving over to grab the foam roller I’d thrown. Carlos wasn’t looking at me, having gone to the ground to begin rolling his legs out. I narrowed my eyes before casually moving past him only to turn at the last second and throw my roller at his chest. That was my intention at least. Instead, he grabbed my ankle before I could send the foam flying and tripped me up. “Damn it!” I cried from the floor, pushing myself up to glare at him. “How did you see that coming!?”

“Because I know you and you’re vengeful as hell,” he said with a grin, rolling to his knees. “That and you telegraph your moves so far in advance a grandma could tell what was going to happen.” I growled and huff, moving to stand, but Carlos grabbed my ankle to drag me over to him. Yelping, I found myself with my legs on either side of his body as I looked up at him. He had a dark look on his face as he tilted his head to the side. Unsure of what to do, I stayed where I was as Carlos pushed my legs apart wider. Gasping softly, I swallowed as he moved to cover my body with his. I shivered as his body was hovering just above mine, his face so close to me that I could count his lashes. His hands were planted on either side of my face, holding his body up.

Should I kiss him? Was he waiting for me to do that or was he going to in the next few seconds. My heart was pounding as I started to breathe heavier, my mouth going dry while heat was starting to pool in my pants. Just before I could make a move, he dropped on me. All 6’4’’ fell less than an inch and still knocked the wind out of me.

The magic was gone as I grunted and groaned while Carlos snickered into my ear.

“You’re an asshole, get off me,” I wheezed, slapping his hip.

“You love me though,” he said, getting up completely. Grabbing the roller he’d been using, he set it back by the wall. “Now, finish your cool down and I’ll see you later Kit-Kat. Don’t stay up too late, we’ll have another lesson tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I worked my back on the foam roller. “Don’t forget, we’re going mattress shopping tomorrow too. Be at my place at 10 AM, sharp. I wanna get in and get out, no messing around.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Carlos said when he was at the door, pausing to give me a salute before leaving.

At some point we’d have to talk about what was going on, but I also didn’t want to make it stop. Carlos could be a himbo at times, but he knew exactly what he was doing with this flirting. I just couldn’t figure out what had flipped the switch though. He’d never acted like that before.

Frustrated and confused, but stretched, I hit the showers before heading to work.

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Taglists: @abysswhiskey11

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #fanfiction #carlos oliveira #chris redfield #claire redfield #jill valentine #carlos oliveira x oc #carlos oliveira x ofc

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

Lockscreens (ch.10)

tw: insecurities, minor anger-driven violence

Word count: 3.85k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch. 10: All Caught Up (Present)

Present, the day after the game

“Bokuto-sehsu, that was a fantastic match last night! How are you feeling today?”

“Thank you so much Au-san! We worked really hard, and we’re so happy for a MSBY Jackal victory,” he beamed, crossing his legs and leaning forward slightly. “I’m feeling great.”

“How do you guys normally celebrate after a win?”

“Well, we’ll normally go out for a bite to eat or something.” He adjusted his sports jacket, hands fiddling with the zipper. “If we’d just flown in that night though, we’d normally head off to bed after eating something in the hotel restaurant.”

“You guys must be hungry after all that running and jumping!” She laughed. “You’re from Tokyo right? What’s the best place for a post-game meal?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, I was actually the ace at Fukurodani Academy when I was in high-school. We normally go to Gyu-Kaku by the stadium after a hard-fought game, win or lose. I actually took the team there last night.”

“Gyu-Kaku? That’s actually one of my favourites!” They both laughed. “Now, obviously you’ve been involved with volleyball for a good majority of your life. I gotta ask, is there anything you regret about it?” Bokuto froze, his mind running this way and that.

He wasn’t sure why this question was always asked, and he swallowed the weight of the lies on his tongue as he repeated the same lies he had lived and breathed for the past four years. Bokuto forced a grin, “No, not at all. I love volleyball, it’s always been there for me. I’m so happy that I have a chance to continue with it as my career.”

“Speaking of love, any special lady in your life?”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he forced out a laugh, his heart shattering. Of course. Just another bachelor on the MSBY team. “Not at this time,” he acknowledged, knuckles whitening. Bokuto could almost feel the jagged edges of the pieces of his heart that he’d clumsily tried to reassemble. “It’s hard balancing all the travel and practice with a dating life.”

“Well hopefully you’ll find someone willing to do that for you.” Au smiled. “Well folks, that’s all the time we have today. Thank you for coming out!”

As Bokuto left the studio from his live interview, he let out an extensive sigh. It wasn’t often that interviewers asked him about his past, but he supposed it was expected considering he was local to Tokyo. He turned down the street, letting his music fade in the background as he remembered his past. Bokuto still couldn’t believe that he had run into (Name) yesterday, let alone that she was married to Kuroo for gods’ sake. He sighed, face darkening. Kuroo had been the one to introduce them after all.

“Hey Bokuto, I want you to meet someone. Come to Gym 3 later for extra practice!” A hand clapped onto his back, sending the wing-spiker lurching forward. Glancing up, he nodded at the other first-year male.

“Who else will be there?”

Kuroo shrugged, grinning. “You’ll just have to come and see, won’t you?”

After all the practices, Bokuto entered Gym 3 to find it empty. He picked a corner, placing his bag and stuff down before taking a sip from his water bottle. “You’re Bokuto right?” The spiker jumped, dropping his bottle. He cursed, bending down as he picked it up. A soft giggle had him looking up. “I’m (L.Name, Name),” she introduced, bending beside him as she began to towel up the split water. Bokuto stared at her, open-mouthed. “You were really good today!” She beamed, standing up with the soiled towels.

“Thank you,” he stammered, moving to stand beside her. “What school are you from?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, “Nekoma.”

“Oh! You must be Kuroo’s friend?”

(Name) laughed, eyes sparkling. “You can say that. We've been friends since grade school.”

Golden eyes widened. “He mentioned wanting to introduce me to someone. That must be you.”

“Funny, Kuroo said the same thing about you.” She bowed. “I’ll be in your care, Bokuto-san.” His cheeks glowed as he pulled her up from her bow.

Bokuto frowned, arriving at his temporary lodging. Under different circumstances, he would’ve asked to stay with (Name) after reconnecting, but the circumstances being what they were, he figured renting out a place for the month would be better. He sat on his couch, lips pursed. Bokuto’s phone vibrated against his thigh. “Hello?”

“Bokuto-san.”

“Akaashi!”

“I heard that you were back in Tokyo?”

Bokuto stood, his bitter expression lightening up just enough for a smile. He stood up, making his way to his kitchen. “Yes, I am! I’ll be here for a month.”

“How exciting,” Bokuto could hear the smile in Akaashi’s voice. “If you’re free, let’s meet up? I haven’t seen you in quite a while.” Bokuto filled up a glass of water, sipping it.

“I always have time for you, Akaashi!” Bokuto boomed, causing Akaashi to chuckle.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san. I have to go now. I hope you’re doing well.”

“See you soon, Akaashi.”

Bokuto stood in the deafening silence of his kitchen. A heavy sigh left him, shoulders sagging. Akaashi’s calming presence had soothed some of his anxiety about being alone, but it was also a stark reminder that he was alone. Weary golden eyes scanned the kitchen.

“Kou! You’re making a mess,” she squealed, grabbing at his hands. He had been frantically whipping the bowl of cookie dough, causing it to splatter everywhere.

“No, I’m not!” He argued.

She pulled it away, wiping a bit of the splatter off of her cheek. “You sure about that?”

“Okay, maybe.” Bokuto sighed, grabbing a towel to try and wipe down the counter. He was startled when cold liquid landed on his cheek. “Huh?” He whirled around, wiping at his cheek to find a splatter of the dough on his cheeks. “Oh you’re gonna get it,” he grinned. A handful of flour went flying at her as she attempted to run around the island.

“Kou!” She shrieked, the flour landing all over her face. (Name) lunged for an egg, smashing it on top of his head. She froze, eyes widening at the silly sight. “Oh my god, you look ridiculous!”

“You’ve got three seconds.” Bokuto wiped the dripping egg whites off of his forehead.

She backed up, tripping over her own feet. “You wouldn’t do anything drastic, right Kou?” She cooed, panic rising in her voice.

“Of course not, love. I just wanna hug you!” With that, he lunged and cracked an egg down her shirt. Laughter filled the air as they chased each other around, their plan to make cookies long-forgotten.

He sighed. If only he could turn back time. Maybe he’d have this taste of domesticity for the rest of his life. A home instead of a temporary apartment. Someone who would come rushing to greet him once he came home instead of the void left in his heart and bed. Bokuto sighed just before his phone vibrated in his hand.

Future wifey: When did you want to meet?

****

The next day...

“So, Bokuto is back in town? And (Name) is meeting him right now?” Kenma had Hikori on his lap, showing him how to play Minecraft. Kuroo was lounging on the bean-bag, alternating between watching his son and staring at his phone.

“Pretty much.” Kuroo sighed.

“How are you feeling about it?” Kenma patted Hikori’s head, pointing at something on the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t be sitting there sulking.” Kenma eyed his best friend disdainfully. “Not that I’m complaining, you know I enjoy Hikori’s company.” His yellow eyes surveyed the screen. “You can mine those blocks, Hiki.”

“Ok, Ken-san!” Hikori’s pink tongue stuck out as he examined the keyboard to press the right buttons.

“Fine, you’re right. I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“What if she still wants Bokuto?” Kuroo hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. “I mean, they were together for almost four years.” Hazel eyes gazed with affection and a glimmer of resignation at his son. Turmoil overwhelmed him. Would Hikori prefer his biological father over him? Would she prefer Bokuto? No matter what, it had always felt that Bokuto was her first love, not him. “And they have something...permanently tying them together.”

“You’ve also been with her for the same amount of time.” Kenma cleared his throat, shifting his sharp gaze away from Kuroo. “I think that connection is more-so between you and her,” Kenma shrugged. “It’s not like he was involved other than genetically.”

“That wasn’t his fault though,” Kuroo argued. “If he hadn’t gotten the deal that day, he would’ve known and it would be him here instead of me.”

“But he did and it is you, not him.” Kenma looked down at his friend. “You’ve known each other for almost fifteen years. You’ve loved her for a majority of that time, whether you knew it or not.” He took control of the mouse, helping Hikori fight off a zombie. “She’s loved you for just as long. It doesn’t matter what they had together. You’ve already beat him in every possible way.” A smirk made its way onto his face as he watched Hikori play. “You’ve maxed your friendship levels. He’d have to start over at this point.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “You’re such a gamer.”

“A rich one.”

Kuroo’s face brightened as he cackled. “Thanks Kenma. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Our friendship points are maxed out too, Kuro.”

“Ken-san!” Hikori pointed at the screen excitedly. “I just caught this!”

“Good job, Hiki.” Kenma patted the boy’s head affectionately.

****

A few days later...

“Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“Can we meet up?”

“Of course. I’ll text you the address of a pearl drink place, okay?”

Akaashi hung up, sighing. It had been years since he heard Bokuto so...depressed. The wing-spiker had worked hard to overcome his “emo” modes from high school, and it no longer affected him during games, but apparently something brought it back and Akaashi had an idea of what that it might be…

“So you met (Name)?”

Bokuto nodded, chewing on the tapioca balls. “Yeah, we ran into each other at the game a few days ago.”

Akaashi hesitated. “How was that?”

“S’okay, I guess.” Bokuto shrugged, spinning in the raised chair. The two sat in bar-stools at Akaashi’s favorite pearl tea shop. Though, it was only his favorite since it was so close to his work-place. “We met up to talk the other day and caught up. I didn’t know she and Kuroo got married.”

The former setter hummed. “Yeah, they got married before Hikori was born.”

Bokuto threw his arms up. “That’s the thing! I didn’t even know they were talking together. Let alone that they were interested in each other like that.” Bokuto sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I can’t believe I came back to find my best friend having a baby with my ex-girlfriend.”

Akaashi tilted his head, twisting the straw wrapper. “I’m more surprised you didn’t come back sooner with all things considered.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Akaashi cleared his throat, “I figured you would visit more after finding out that Hikori is your son.”

Bokuto froze, short-circuiting. “He’s what?”

Akaashi paused, looking up from his pearl drink. “She didn’t tell you?” His eyebrows furrowed. “They promised that they would.”

“Congratulations, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi nodded at Kuroo and (Name). They were at (Name)’s house as she hosted Hikori’s ‘Sip and See’ party and Aya’s baby shower. The coworkers had become exceptionally close after being joined together by parenthood. The expecting mother was entertaining other guests in the living room while (Name) and Kuroo entertained their guests in the backyard.

“Do you want to hold him, Akaashi?” (Name) offered, arms cradling a bundle of blankets.

Akaashi smiled, bowing slightly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I trust you.” She giggled, gently placing Hikori into Akaashi’s arms.

“I’ll be back, love.” Kuroo kissed (Name)’s head, nodding at Akaashi before heading over to greet his coworkers.

Akaashi rocked Hikori slightly, a gentle smile on his face. “He has his eyes, y’know.” (Name) murmured, looking down at her son and carding through his soft locks.

“Does he now?” Akaashi hummed. Hikori yawned, opening up his eyes as he woke up from his nap. With wide golden eyes, Hikori reached for Akaashi’s face. Akaashi chuckled, bringing his finger to Hikori’s small chubby hands. The baby squealed with laughter as he grabbed onto Akaashi’s index finger. “Does Bokuto-san know?” Akaashi peeked up at (Name).

“Not yet.”

Kuroo returned, catching their conversation. Akaashi kept his attention on (Name). “Will you tell him?”

“Of course Akaashi.” Akaashi fixed her with a hard stare, raising an eyebrow. “I promise, we’ll tell him.”

“Akaashi.” Gunmetal eyes slid to look over at Kuroo who grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “We promise, Bokuto will know.”

“I have to go.”

“Good luck, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi called after him as Bokuto sprinted out of the store.

****

“Thanks for coming in! Be sure to keep doing those stretches at home, okay?” She instructed, waving her client out. She stepped out of the hall, leaving one of the dance studios.

“Hey (Name)?” The receptionist called urgently, waving at the female.

“Yes? Is everything okay?” (Name) walked forward. Rei approached her, bending to whisper into her ear.

“There’s someone here for you. He’s been pacing the lobby for quite some time now.”

“Who is it?” Her eyes widened, brows furrowing. She didn’t have any more clients that day. (Name) glanced at her watch, it was almost time to pick up Hikori from the on-site day-care center.

“He said his name was Bokuto?” (Name)’s jaw clenched, fingers twitching in agitation. “Oh, do you know him?” Rei asked, cocking her head. She could only nod, a million thoughts running through her mind.

“Yeah, thanks for telling me Rei. I’ll go see him right now.” She smoothed out her clothes, taking a deep breath before she stepped into the lobby. “Bokuto?” True to Rei’s words, Bokuto was anxiously pacing up and down the lobby, looking over his shoulder at the double doors every few steps. Bokuto looked like a mess. His hair was all-over the place, golden eyes red. At the sound of her voice, Bokuto whipped around. His lip was swollen and bruised, no doubt from apprehensive chewing.

“(Name)!” Bokuto sprinted towards her. “We need to talk.”

“It appears we do.” She looked around the lobby. “C’mon, let’s go to my office.”

Silence clung to them as they took the stairs up to her office, which had been moved to a different wing. As soon as she shut the door, Bokuto whirled on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That Hikori is my son!” He slammed his palm onto her desk, startling her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I...we...I was going to tell you,” she whispered. “When Hikori was older.”

Name let out a sigh of relief, tugging the blanket under Hikori’s chin. Muscular arms snaked around her waist as the couple stood staring down at their baby. “Let him sleep,” Kuroo whispered into her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and gently tugging her towards the door. Kuroo slipped out first while she paused to turn on some classical music. Her husband was bustling around the kitchen, pouring them mugs of warmed milk. “Is everything okay?” He asked, glancing up at her.

“Do you think we should tell Bokuto?”

Kuroo’s hands froze as he stopped mixing honey in, eyes focused on the mug with an unreadable expression. “Bokuto?”

She hummed in response. (Name) stepped in between his arms, wrapping her arms around his chest. “I mean, biologically that’s his child.” Kuroo hesitated as a hand reassuringly rubbed his back. “Hikori is still your son,” she clarified, “and he always will be.” (Name) pulled back, looking up at Kuroo, her lips brushing his cheek. ‘But I think he’d want to know. Heavens knows you would want to if the situation was reversed.” She shrugged as she bit her bottom lip. “Bokuto doesn’t need to know any time soon.”

Kuroo nodded reluctantly, resting his forehead on hers. “Why don’t we wait until Hikori is old enough to decide whether or not he wants to meet Bokuto?” he suggested, closing his eyes. “Introducing Bokuto too soon might cause confusion or unnecessary stress to Hiki.”

A puff of warm air blew across his face as she contemplated his offer. “That’s fair. He isn’t missing a father figure and he might get confused.” Her eyes glowed with determination. “Alright. Let’s hold off on telling him until he’s old enough to understand.” Kuroo pressed a kiss first to her forehead then her lips. “Thank you for being so understanding, love.”

Kuroo let out a soft laugh. “Anything for you, my love.”

“Don’t you think I had a right to know?” Bokuto was pacing around her office, aggravation evident in all of his movements. Fear locked her jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me when we met up the other day?” He snarled, running his hand through his hair again. The knock at her door shook her out of her reverie.

She cleared her throat, glancing at the door. “Yes?”

“(Nickname)? Are you ok?”

She swallowed, steadying her voice and steeling her nerves. “Yeah, Iwaizumi. I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Alright then. I’m next door if you need anything!”

“Thank you!” She pinched her nose, taking more deep breaths. “Look, Bokuto. You left.” She hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Years ago. I didn’t hear from you until. This. Week.”

“That’s not my fault!” Bokuto argued, grabbing her wrist. “You told me to go!” He threw her hand away from him, golden eyes narrowed.

“I did.” She nodded, closing her eyes. Her nostrils flared as she took deep breaths. “I wanted you to be happy and to be the pro-player you always wanted to be.”

“Babe, guess what?” She looked up from the tea-cup that sat in front of her, over the pastries as (e/c) eyes made contact with gold. Her eyebrows quirked up as she took a sip. Bokuto could hardly contain his own excitement as he blurted out, “I just got scouted!”

Her eyes widened, choking slightly on the hot beverage. “Really? That’s great!”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it’s a two-year contract for now. They want to send me to their training camp starting next week and I’ll be gone for the next six months. After that, I’m going to officially join the team and everything!” A soft pout made its way to his face as he played with his fingers. He didn’t want to leave her - not when she was so close to finishing up school. “That means I have to leave this weekend.”

Delicately placing the tea-cup down, a soft hand reached out for his. “Kou, it’s okay. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for all of your life.” (Name) swallowed thickly, causing him to tilt his head at her. What was the matter? But his worries were quelled with her next words. “I’m not going to keep you here. Please, go live your life and you better be the best ace out there, okay?”

Apprehension bubbled in his stomach, something didn’t feel right. He grasped her hand harder, fixing her with a paralysing golden stare. “We can make this work! I’ll come home to visit, and we’ll call every day, I promise.” Silently, he promised to himself, ‘And when you’re finished with school, I will come back and bring you with me.’

The corner of her lips graced him with a timid smile. “I’m sure we can.”

“I love you.” Bokuto’s plush lips caressed her hand, squeezing it tightly once more. His heart felt warm knowing that he had her support. Knowing that he had a plan for their future now. Excitement filled him once more as he imagined it. Him, established in his professional volleyball career. Her, joining him in Osaka and building her own future as they joined their lives together as full-fledged adults.

She squeezed back, looking at their intertwined hands. “I love you too.”

His eyes widened, the memory hitting him out of nowhere sending a surge of fury through him. Bokuto lunged towards her, both hands now clasped onto her wrists. “Does Hikori know?” Bokuto demanded.

Her eyes widened. “Kou, that hurts,” she whimpered, trying to tug out of his grip.

“Does Hikori know?” Bokuto trembled like a leaf during the season's change.

“No, he doesn’t.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “We were going to wait until he was older so that he would understand.”

“So you hid it from both of us?” Bokuto scoffed. Hurt and anger crossed his expression. “Why would you lie?”

(Name) yanked her arms away, rage surging through her. Red marks were left on her arms and were rubbed furiously. “Bokuto, you left me. You ghosted me. You have absolutely no right to come in here demanding jack-shit from me after that.” She let out a deep laugh, eyes glinting dangerously. “Why would I tell my son that his father abandoned his mother especially when there was already someone else there to love and raise him?”

At her words, Bokuto deflated, anger dissipating completely. “I’m...I’m sorry, (Name). I didn’t…I.” Bokuto collapsed onto her patient table, face buried into his palms. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or to abandon you. It was just so hard, I didn’t want to hold you back.” Hot tears dripped down his face and splattered onto the ground. “Fuck, (Name). I was in so much pain when I left. I didn’t…I couldn’t…Not like this.” Bokuto’s body shook in sobs. Her anger faded as she watched him. Pity overwhelmed her, causing her throat to tighten.

She stepped closer, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his quivering form. Bokuto stiffened before burying his face into her shoulder. “It’s okay, Kou. I know,” she cooed softly.

His body trembled as he clung onto her, struggling to breath. “I know I don’t deserve it but I...I wanna try again. Can I just try to be a part of Hikori’s life? We don’t even need to get back together,” he rambled in sheer desperation, tears soaking into her shirt. How could they? He had been replaced long ago and he hadn’t even realised it. “He doesn’t need to know that I’m his dad. Not yet.” Another sob tore through his body as his grip tightened. “I just want to be a part of his life. Is that okay?”

(Name) bit her lip, glancing at the picture frame on her desk. Hikori and Kuroo stared back at her. Hikori was perched on Kuroo’s shoulders as they wandered the festival streets waiting for the firework show.

“Please.” He whispered hoarsely, pulling back to reveal golden eyes that glistened with pain. “I know I don’t deserve your kindness. But please.” Bokuto took a shaky breath only to break out into harsher sobs. “Please (Name).”

*****

Fun Facts

💟 “Au” means ‘meeting’

💟 Though he was used to answering the ‘regrets’ question, it never not easier for Bokuto

💟 Bokuto had planned on renting the apartment for only a week - enough time to meet up with (Name) and then ask to stay with her, but ultimately extended his reservation in order to recuperate

💟 Kuroo had never really gotten over his insecurities about Hikori’s birth

💟 Kenma loved showing Hikori how to play games, and they would often meet up monthly for game nights. (Name) refused to put Hikori in the spotlight though so Kenma wasn’t allowed to stream whenever Hikori was over

💟 Bokuto was overwhelmed with his own emotions and insecurities regarding Kuroo’s relationship with (Name) [more on this next chapter]

💟 Japanese people call milk-tea/boba/bubble tea drinks ‘tapoica juice’

💟 Akaashi never brought it up to Bokuto because he assumed that Bokuto would have mentioned it to him if he wanted to talk about it. Unfortunately, Akaashi was not surprised about how things ended up happening

💟 (Name) was surprised that Bokuto remembered where she worked. When they had met-up, Bokuto had seemed zoned out for a majority of it.

💟 (Name)’s office was moved closer to Iwaizumi’s office due to reasons

💟 (Name) isn’t the type to get angry. But when Bokuto started making demands while getting angry and violent, she couldn’t help but lash out. She had been suppressing her own rage at him for years

*****

Please feel free to pop into my inbox if you have any questions, comments, or concerns 💞 I love interacting with you all!

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother @setterfish @toobsessedsstuff @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91 @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed@samkysnks @dolan-mendes @loudpoetry23 @estmagnifique @milkteeboba @newfriendjen @sempiternal-amour @scrappydaisies @ mayor-chu-of-many-towns @bokutosdivineass @yeahhemmings- @elianetsantana @strawhatshepard @caramel-chuuya @sol-demure @song-of-storms162 @rogueofbullshit @cheerysparkle @killlerqween @aomineavenue @fatal-impact @isleofnajera @safa-a07 @shoyomeow @vicassa

I couldn’t tag names in bold.

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a-wayne-at-heart-too · 4 years

Text

Ask: The 27th of April, Part 2

[Warehouse by Gotham Harbor, Gotham City, 1745 H]

Red Hood: *taps his foot impatiently while he checks his watch for the nth time* Come on, come on, come on. Make the drop, you guys.

Red Hood: *sighs in frustration as he disassembles and reassembles his pistol in 15 seconds flat for the nth time* Let’s get it over with.

Red Hood: *peeks from behind a stack of crates for the nth time* I don’t have all day. I promised Alfred I’d make it to dinner on time --

Red Hood: *stares at his ringing phone with narrowed eyes*

Red Hood: *picks it up* Roman.

Black Mask [on the phone]: *chuckling* Jason, my dear boy! How’ve you been? You look healthy. Very much alive, even.

Red Hood: *spots the tiny, hidden camera attached to a steel beam above him (How in the world did he miss that?) and cocks both his guns* Where are your men, ugly face?

Black Mask: Don’t you speak to me that way, you little rat! Before I make you a very D-E-A-... Hm. Forget I said that.

Red Hood: What?

Black Mask: The point is you’ve wasted your time waiting for nothing. So get lost!

Red Hood: Don’t lie to me! I’ve been tracking your every move for weeks and this warehouse reeks of your poisonous, criminal stench --

Black Mask: *lets out a drawn-out sigh* Listen, just go home, kid. The carnage you were looking forward to today? Newsflash: It ain’t happening!

Red Hood: You don’t tell me what to do, you sick son of a --

Black Mask: I tell you what: You go home tonight -- and I mean home -- I’ll forward you the coordinates of every illegal shipment to and from Janus Cosmetics within a hundred mile radius. You can blow it all up for all I care. Deal?

Red Hood: And if you don’t? If you lie to me?

Black Mask: *growling* You’ll find them anyway, you always do!

Red Hood: Why?

Black Mask: Hm?

Red Hood: Why?

Black Mask: *plays a vinyl record in the background, sounding more relaxed* Because there are better days to dance our tango, Jason... Da-rum, da-rum, da-rum da-ra...

Red Hood: ...

Red Hood: Did Batman put you up to this?

Black Mask: *crumpling a piece of paper near the phone speaker* You’re breaking up! *click*

>>> *** <<<

[Safe house, undisclosed location, 1815 H]

Red Hood: *fumbling as he enters the wrong passcode to the steel door for the third time in a row* Crap! Crap! Crap! I’m gonna be late!

Lock: Password incorrect. Initializing Code Red Protocol in three, two, o--

Red Hood: Override the stupid passcode! Activate voice recognition!

Lock: Activating voice recognition --

Red Hood: The Handsome Robin! The Handsome Robin!

Lock: Welcome, Jason Todd. Opening door n--

Red Hood: Hello, Safe House! *squeezes himself in the still-narrow space, then trips over his weapons, armor, and garments as he hurriedly strips himself of them en route to the bathroom*

Red Hood: *abruptly stops in his tracks* What the fuuhhh...

Red Hood: *watches as bubbly, green fluid oozes out of his bathtub*

Red Hood: *picks up the rolled piece of parchment beside his Batshampoo, unties the ribbon around it, and spreads it open*

Note: “In case you needed more. [signed] The Demon’s Head”

>>> *** <<<

[Crime Alley, 1903 H]

Red Hood: *groans as he realizes that his motorcycle just ran out of fuel* Seriously?

Harley Quinn: *rollerblading into view* Hey, Baby J! Need a lift? *holds up an extra pair of roller blades*

Red Hood: Yeahhhh no.

Harley Quinn: Come on! It’ll be fun! And I promise I won’t bite cha. *winks*

Red Hood: Oh, what the heck. *grabs the roller blades* So you really just carry around an extra pair of blades, huh? *proceeds to put his on*

Harley Quinn: Nope! But I’ve had this with me for a while now. *takes out a tiny package from the pocket of her shorts and hands it to Jason*

Red Hood: *examines it* Hm.

Harley Quinn: It ain’t poisoned or nothin’! Pinky swear! *holds out her pinky*

Red Hood: *frowning* What is it?

Harley Quinn: *claps her hands excitedly* Open it! Open it!

Red Hood: *gingerly unfolds the bubble gum wrapper and holds up its minuscule content* ... A tiny crowbar?

Harley Quinn: Yes! You can open envelopes with it! Stir coffee with it! Hit tiny Mistah J’s on the noggin’ with it --

Red Hood: *chuckles and puts the gift in his jacket pocket* Okay, okay, I get it. Thanks, I guess.

Harley Quinn: *holds her hand out to Jason* Come on! You’re gonna be late! Alfie ain’t gonna be happy!

Red Hood: ...

Red Hood: Did Batman put you up to this?

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

And Jason’s confusion continues, @wingedskyes .

See: Part 1, Part 3

#Ask #Jason Todd #Roman Sionis #Ra's al Ghul #Harleen Quinzel

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

Hunters’ Crossing: Moving In

A Kinky Swingin’ Supernatural AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Written for: @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 3535

Square Filled: Teasing

Summary: Dean and you work on moving into your new house. Which just happens to be Sam and Rowena’s old place. A neighbor stops by while Dean is out, welcoming you to the cul-de-sac. As the day goes on, you enjoy distracting your husband until he has had enough.

Warnings: 18yo+, shower sex, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, fingering, anal sex, analingus, dirty talk, just happy couple smut.

Pre-read by @cracksinthewalls & @thoughtslikeaminefield (who also made the awesome header).

Dean had been up and itching to get the show on the road for over an hour. The only things left unboxed in the two bedroom ranch, you had been renting since moving back to town, was the mattress, bedframe and a change of clothes. As of sometime after midnight, Dean and you were packed and ready to go. Unfortunately for your husband, you were still sound asleep.

He started pacing, or what sounded like pacing from your exhausted face-down state. It turned out he had started moving the boxes from your room to the driveway.

Dean wasn’t being loud, but it was really fucking early for that.

You crawled out of bed just after eight, shrugged into the old top and leggings you had left out the night before, and prayed he had gotten coffee.

“And she’s up,” Dean snapped his fingers in excitement. You grumbled your good morning, but snuggled into his side as he dialed Benny, his lead mechanic and the guy who was bringing the trailer. You nursed your coffee (with all the right fixings) as Dean finished his call.

“Can you believe where we’re gonna be livin’?” Dean kissed your temple, then looked down at you like a kid on the way to Disneyland.

“Uh, yeah, so can the bank account. You’re lucky you’re so cute and Sam’s lucky you have a soft spot for him,” you finished on a mumble.

“You love that house, don’t be like that,” Dean tisked at you.

“I do! I do. It’s just, I could have slept for like four more hours,” you whined. “Thank you for my coffee.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you, but you could tell he was pleased he had done good. You left a quick kiss on his jaw before he walked away to start hauling more things outside.

Barely ten minutes had passed when Benny and Bobby sauntered up the walkway. Before you had even metabolized the caffeine, the first trip was underway.

Hunter’s Crossing was the last cul-de-sac at the end of Lawrence Lane. Which ran the length of the development known as the Ethereal Estates. The four bedroom, three bathroom McMansion that you and Dean had purchased from his younger brother Sam was on the northern corner, facing south. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage with Benny and Bobby with the truck and trailer filling the driveway right behind you.

As you climbed from the passenger’s seat, Benny let out an impressed whistle.

“Damn, Boss, you’ve gone full country club on us,” the large man drawled.

“Can it, nimrod, or you’ll give him an even bigger head,” Bobby warned. Benny and you both laughed.

“You done? Cuz, last time I checked you can walk and talk,” Dean snipped, only half-heartedly. Bobby gave you a gentle smile as you shivered against the early spring air. You all fell in line behind Dean and awaited your assignments.

Two hours into hauling furniture, Garth showed up to give a hand. Unlike Bobby and Benny, who worked directly for Dean at Winchester & Son’s garage, Garth, a long time friend, was an accountant who helped Dean learn the books when John retired. His wife Bess was the kindest person you had ever met.

You were settled into organizing mode when the guys left to pick up the last round of boxes. Then, the doorbell rang.

A man stood on the front porch, draped against the doorframe like he had known you for years, tucked into a fitted black suit paired with the softest looking tee shirt you had ever seen. His mischievous eyes crinkled above a flirtatious smirk as he introduced himself.

“Baz, hi, I’m at the center of the loop. Welcome to the neighborhood, wish it were over better circumstances, but happy to keep it in the family, as it were,” he rolled off before you could even reply. He must be in sales, you thought.

“Hi,” you gave him your name, finding it easy to smile under his charms.

“You're the sister-in-law? So where’s brother dearest?” He teased in a tonal accent.

“Oh you know, sent him to do the heavy lifting. They’ll be back before long.” You stood up straighter.

“Right, well, we’re having a dinner party next week. It’s kind of a regular thing, we take turns hosting, and my wife’ll kill me if I don’t pass on the invite. Friday at seven? We have cocktails, and get gussied up for one another,” he mentioned passively, but you caught the drift. It wasn’t a backyard barbecue. “It’s all a bit pretentious if you ask me-- Well, who am I kidding, right?”

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his expense. “It sounds great--- Bash?”

“Baz,” his voice sizzled along the last letter.

“Baz, sorry. Uh, I’ll have to check with Dean, but I don’t think we have anything going on.” You gave him your best customer smile.

“How about I’ll just pop back when you’re better settled? I didn’t mean to pressure you, love,” Baz waved as he backed off the porch.

“You’re fine, really,” you apologized. “It’s just the first day, a lot to sort out.”

“Of course! Take your time. Right, well, I’ll be seeing you, ta ta,” Baz waved with a tight lipped grin.

You closed the door and exhaled. That was more than you had heard from your neighbors in the three years you had lived at your last place. It was kind of exciting getting an invitation on the first day, now if you could just convince your husband to go. But Dean didn’t really get ‘gussied up’ for much.

Dean found you in the kitchen, kneeling on the counters as you sorted the plates. There was so much space, everything was able to get its own shelf. You heard him start the tap, just out of your line of sight. Quickly, you sensed his amusement as you continued to stack and place the piles by size.

“Don’t laugh at me, it’s easier this way,” you said without looking at him. When he didn’t reply, you grew curious to what he was up to, slowly you turned around to find him leaning against the island which held the double sink, eyes firmly on your ass. You sighed, but leered back at him, down to just his t-shirt after the last of your belongings had been unloaded. He wiped his wet lips with the hem of his shirt, flashing the sweaty plane of his abs at you.

“Don’t mind me, carry on,” Dean sassed, waving you back to the task at hand.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing off the counter with an exaggerated arched back. You broke down the box and moved onto the next, knowing Dean was enjoying his water break more than he should.

“Why don’t you call for pizza? Get the guys fed for all their help,” you suggested as you climbed back up to stock another set of cabinets, this time with glassware.

Dean nodded before he finished off the last of his water. As he scrolled through his phone for a number, you remembered your visitor.

“Babe? You got anything going on on Friday?” You watched him think.

“No, why?” Dean didn’t look up, brow scrunched in concentration.

“We were invited to the neighbors’ for a dinner party,” you sing-songed the last words, emphasizing the level of chic.

“What neighbors?” Dean paused.

“The ones in the big house in the middle. Baz, was his name. Said they do it a lot and take turns hosting,” you shrugged. “Could be fun. It was nice to be welcomed to the neighborhood.”

“How long was this guy here?” Dean’s face froze in suspicion.

“He just stopped by!” You chuckled aghast, but you couldn’t hide the blush Dean’s interrogation had brought back.

“So, what, he just conveniently shows up to check out the hot new neighbor when he saw us leave?” Dean shook his head and stood straight, squaring off. “I don’t know, sounds like a creepy thing to do.”

“Shut up, he’s married! He said his wife would kill him if he didn’t extend the invitation. Calm down, would ya?” You hopped down to face him. Dean grumbled and went back to his phone. “Hey?”

“What?” Dean huffed.

“I love you.” You placed your chin on his shoulder as he got over his temporary pouting.

“Yeah?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, and smirked at you.

“Yep.” You popped the p.

“You want the usual?” Dean put his phone to the opposite ear.

“Please?” You grinned, as he settled against the sink once more.

His fingertips swatted the curve of your hip as you walked away.

You had left an entire room for the empty boxes. Without enough furniture to fill the space and after Sam and Rowena sold off half of theirs to cover the costs of the divorce, it was easy to let the cardboard pile up as the day went on. As you waited for lunch to arrive, you trudged through the living room to drop off another few flattened boxes.

Dean asked Benny and Garth to reassemble your bed and the guest bed upstairs, while he and Bobby organized tools and lawn equipment in the garage. You could see Dean and the older man talking through the window in the study, or the current box depot. Your husband had a fantastic profile and you took a few moments to appreciate it.

Slowly you tore yourself from your reverie and started to break down the remaining intact boxes. You quickly grew overheated and bent over to crack the window. You caught Dean’s eye as you wrenched the stiff windowpane up. He was watching you from the tops of his eyes, mouth open as his tongue played with his top teeth.

He always had such a sinful mouth.

The glint of chrome flashed from his window up to yours, the wrenches he was lining up nearly forgotten as you ducked your head out the window, strategically pinning your breasts between your folded arms. He was not shy about taking in the show, his eyes grew dangerous with want.

There was a sudden pounding on the front door. Just as quickly as you draped yourself out the window, you rocked back and away from Dean’s hungry glare.

The beer bottle was cold against your lips as you let the tangy liquid wash down the mouthful of pizza you had practically inhaled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell wafted in from off the porch. Best pizza around and you were finally in the delivery radius, suburbia already had its perks.

“Save some for us, darlin’,” Benny teased, as he cracked off the top to his bottle.

"Hey, I'm not the one driving anywhere, you get your one, the rest are mine," you sassed back.

You took another sip, locking eyes with your husband across the table. He licked his lips before taking a generous swallow of beer. A familiar heat sizzled in his eyes.

"Good to know who's really in charge," Bobby nudged Garth to hand him his beer, which Garth passed on.

"I don't want to get drunk," the skinny man reasoned.

"Yeah, and I don't want to have to call Bess to pick you up," Dean agreed and took the offered beer from Bobby, though his was nearly full.

"Somebody's ready to celebrate," Bobby teased.

"They're ready for something," Benny taunted. "A little horizontal mambo seems to be in the cards."

"It has been a long day, a little might be all he's got left," Bobby agreed.

You almost spit out your beer as you giggled with their banter. Dean chugged his beer and rolled his shoulders.

"Mind your business, or I'll have you work late every Friday until I'm sick of looking at ya," Dean said after a faint belch.

"Yes, sir," Benny nodded, smirking at you with a little wink. You shook your head and sighed. The food quickly disappeared alongside the beer, leaving you all stuffed and lethargic. You rolled your shoulders and followed the guys out through the garage. Dean shook hands goodbye while you leaned against the double wide door frame, smiling and waving. You were grateful for all they had done to get you settled in.

“Have a good weekend, boys!” you called, watching them climb into the truck. Dean sauntered back to your side, sweat stained shirt rumpled, hair askew, and handsome as ever.

“Ready to go break in that fancy shower?” he asked, fingertip dragging your hair from your pulse point. A devilish chill ran down your spine, you couldn’t help but shiver from his touch.

“I am beat, Hot Stuff,” you lamented. “A shower does sound amazing though.”

“Let’s get you naked, then we’ll see who’s beat,” Dean punned horribly.

You groaned and then gave him a meager chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

“I’m fucking hilarious, it’s one of the reasons you married me,” Dean insisted, leading you back into the house by the small of your back. You stomped through the mudroom and passed the kitchen to the stairs, every step up felt like you had concrete bricks for feet.

“No rush or anything,” Dean teased, hands firmly on your hips, always so supportive.

“Why did we buy a two story house?”! You fell dramatically forward, slumped on the landing, with your legs and arms askew like limp noodles. “Can I just nap here first? It’s so far!”

Dean stood two steps behind you, hands on his hips and bitch face on. “Really?”

You rolled to your back, knees bent and propped yourself up on your elbows, as if it was the hardest thing in the world. Starring up at his annoyed face, you got creative.

“Please? Just take a little break with me?” You opened your legs suggestively, seeing his eyes rake over your body before he rolled them in mock annoyance.

“Five minutes, then I’m getting clean, with or without you,” Dean warned. He fell into the cradle of your thighs, his chest was flush with your heat, as his face burrowed into your cleavage. His arms snaked around your shoulders, holding you up to him like a pillow. It would have been uncomfortable, if he didn’t feel so damn good squishing you into the plush carpet.

Every inch he touched burned through your clothing, the radiant heat of his body oozing into your tired muscles, turning your blood into molten sludge, pooling at your core. Dean hummed and shifted above you, the tip of his nose teasing a nipple.

“I can’t wait to fuck you in every room of this house,” Dean murmured, voice husky and full of promise. “Gonna make you scream my name until there is no doubt every inch of this place belongs to me.”

“To us,” you replied, pulling his face up to look at your lust blown eyes.

“Just you and me,” Dean agreed, kissing a clothed tit, and then the next. He slid up on his toes until his hard edges crooked against your welcoming curves. Then he kissed you blind.

You twisted your hands into his hair and the back of his shirt, clinging to him as he sucked every memory of exhaustion from your mind. The satisfaction of a day’s work done and the hope of new beginnings flooded into your already happy existence, filling you with a blissed out giddiness as Dean began to grind his hips against you. You gasped, breaking the kiss, before dragging his shirt over his head.

He leaned back and placed a swift kiss on your lips. “Five minutes are up.”

You groaned in dismay as Dean untangled himself from your limbs and climbed the last six steps to the second floor.

“You coming or what?” He barked at you, belt already flapping open, erection poking his shorts out of his fly.

Dean usually hated shower sex, too many slippery surfaces and not a lot of space to get things done. But now that you had a walk in shower stall, custom-made for his giant brother, Dean had become an enthusiast.

What started on the stairs, led to him staying dressed on the bottom half until you were completely bare. Then he started the water, letting it get as close to boiling as he could stand and how he knew you liked it. He escorted you under the massive showerhead and pulled back your hair, letting the water soak every inch of your skin.

He wouldn’t let you touch him.

Then he started to scrub, louva sudsy and soothing over your shoulders, under your arms, around your breasts, leaving the parts that needed him most tight and wanting. Once you were as clean as he was going to let you get, Dean brought out the shampoo, letting you finish, not trusting himself to be gentle enough with your tresses.

It took him less than five seconds to finally get naked.

Once your hands reached above your head, Dean started his attack. He lapped one nipple into his hungry mouth as you groaned. Dean watched you the entire time as he mouthed your tits, wanting to push you to the edge as many times as he could get away with.

Fucking tease.

Then he moved between your legs, and the way he left parts of you unwashed all made sense. Because he wanted to taste you, not your floral body wash. He fell to his knees and hooked a thigh over his shoulder, leaving rough kisses on each thigh. Back and forth he went until you were dizzy and whimpering. He rinsed his hands and licked his finger tips for good measure, watching you wait for him to get on with it.

Then he began to stroke your folds. Ever so carefully, he pulled you open, cherishing the way you quaked for him. Your wetness only aiding in the tortuously slow glide of his fingers, front to back, back to front. After more breaths than you could keep track of, Dean pressed into you, two calloused fingers as deep as they could go.

You grasped his neck, desperate to hold on, because as soon as he would, you needed Dean’s tongue on your throbbing clit.

“Whoa--- everything alright up there?” Dean said with laughter in his voice.

“God, fuck, Dean,” you begged.

“Yeah?”

“Please, stud, I need you,” you panted, nails digging into his back.

“Might want to think about how you were acting all day then. Climbing around like a jungle cat. Practically flashing me and Bobby in the garage. Flirting with the neighbors,” Dean tisked at you. “I’m just giving you what you gave me.”

Then he shut up and put out. That sinful mouth decadently pulled and puckered every inch of flesh, until you were screaming over the torrent of the shower. Once his tongue joined his fingers, you were gone. Liquid heat squeezed out of you as your body shuddered out the aftermath, thanking his skillful digits for their efforts.

At long last, you were bent in half, hands braced against the intricate tile as he speared into you from behind. Your body fighting to keep the water out, which only pushed Dean to thrust harder against the unrelenting tightness. Your legs were going to give out soon, it was all too much, the warmth of the shower and the way, even on your tiptoes, Dean had to crouch with his bowed legs to hit your sweet spot with every single stroke.

When he smacked your ass, you faltered, elbows bending and falling forward. He caught you, slowly easing out of your abused cunt, until you were back on steady feet. You turned to kiss his pink lips, still heady with your juices. Carefully Dean reached behind you to turn off the water, brushing his chest against yours. You reached up and pinched his nipple. In return, he let his hand drop down to cup your mound, tapping a gentle rhythm across your slit.

“Ready for that nap, now?” He offered, kissing your temple.

“Definitely.

You spent the rest of the weekend unpacking and screwing, just like Dean wanted: in every room of the house.

He ate you out as a pre-breakfast in bed, first thing Sunday morning, slow and dirty. The noises that came from his plush lips made you writhe just as much as the work his tongue put in. You sucked him off while he made you a proper meal, but only during the prep work as bacon spatter is nothing to toy with.

You rode him while he tried to watch opening week baseball highlights in your new living room, your bare legs deliciously smooth against the leather of the couch. He took your ass after he watched you doing laundry, bending down to pull the hot towels out of the dryer was too much for him. So, he dragged you up stairs to a spare bedroom, licked you clean and then worked you twice over before slamming home and filling you filthy.

Moving was the best idea you’d ever had. You loved the house and couldn’t wait to get to know your neighbors. Life was good, you just didn’t realize it could get even better.

Tagging: @dolphincliffs @fangirlxwritesx67 @foxyjwls007 @akshi8278 @dontshootmespence @smi727 @ericaprice2008 @deandreamernp @mrswhozeewhatsis @itmighthavebeenintentional

Let me know what you think?

Series Masterlist

2020 Kink Bingo Masterlist

#hunters' crossing #spnkinkbingo #dean winchester smut #dean/reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester au #spn au series #spn smut

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Dear John - John B Routledge

Request: can i request dear john by taylor swift with John B

A/N: I love this song so much, I think it always gets over looked as just another breakup song but it really is deeper than that.

TS Anthology Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

Maybe the ocean should’ve given away the temperate feeling that cascaded over you as you stepped off the ferry, or maybe you should’ve known that the Outer Banks wouldn’t feel like home any longer. Either way, the warning signs were ignored as you stood on the dock hands clutching onto the straps of your backpack, that familiar feeling settling into the pit of your stomach. The feeling that had haunted you for a year, a long, excruciating year, of nothing but emptiness. And if it wasn’t for Pope graduating you thought, you wouldn’t be here at all.

“I’m going to fall!” You’re voice felt like it echoed in the darkness as you climbed out of the window and onto the roof with John B, your hand gripping onto his.

“You’re not gonna fall, I’ve got you.” He promised, pulling you as your knees found ground, collapsing against him. “See?”

“I see,” you laughed, leaning into the space between the two of you to kiss him.

The sun was just rising and he’d woken you up, insisting that the two of you watch the morning sky together. You had stayed up late with him the night before because he couldn’t sleep, plagued by nightmares of his father out at sea, and had practically begged you to come over and ease them. Exhausted yourself, though feeling guilty instantly for thinking you’d rather sleep, you had snuck out of the house and gone to the chateau.

“Hey,” he nudged you when you leaned your head on his shoulder, “stay awake.”

“I am,” you promised.

“No, you’re falling asleep. I want you to see this.”

“I am, I promise.” You repeated, blinking back sleep to watch the sun.

The road back down the cut to the Chateau was etched into your memory. A recent hurricane had taken down the tree you always thought was shaped like an arm, reaching out to grip passers by in terror, dragging them back to the woods. It was cut up in pieces now, lying on the shoulder, defeated by the storm and then again by men with chainsaws determined not to let some old tree stand between them and the rest of the island.

You steadied your breathing as you drew closer, heart pounding in your chest as your mind did it’s best to conjure up images of John B. You couldn’t help yourself. You had gotten so far away that you told yourself you forgot what he looked like, what his town looked like, and yet each landmark seemed to jump out at you along the way, familiar to you, however changed. You wondered how much of that would be true of John B. If he too was familiar but changed and in what ways? A new coat of paint, like the Wreck, just a fresh color covering up all the disappointment and manipulation. Or would he be like the ghost tree, cut down and pushed aside, had he retired his condescension and his snark.

“No, of course not,” you swore, holding your phone against your ear as you sat up on your bed, trying to apply enough pressure to the heating pad on your stomach, “I just don’t feel good, JB, the last thing I wanna do is go out tonight.”

It wasn’t technically your anniversary, that had been three days prior, when John B was busy with ‘stuff’ as he so eloquently put it and couldn’t get together. He’d promised to make it up to you and tonight he had intended to fulfill that promise, which might’ve been fine if you weren’t laid up in bed with ginger ale and saltines, trying to keep anything down.

“Oh well, I’m sorry that the last thing you wanna do tonight is spend time with me!” He snapped and you could hear the sound of things being slammed around.

“That’s not what I said!” You snapped. You were exhausted, the stomach bug had kept you unable to relax for the entirety of the day and all you were really hoping for was a little relief now.

“Look whatever, you’re still pressed about not spending the actual day together but I rearranged my whole day just to go out tonight!”

You knew it was a lie, it wasn’t even a necessarily good one. But still, the anger in his voice would’ve made you get up and go out if you didn’t think you could puke at any given moment. “I’m not upset about the other day,” you promised, “I know you had work.” You replied, “I’m really sick though John B, ask Pope, he’ll tell you.” You just wanted him off your back and for a split second you failed to realize that telling him Pope knew you were sick would only send him into a tailspin.

“Ask Pope?” John B repeated, “should I call him or do you just wanna slide the phone over…maybe he could do a fake sick voice too?”

“He’s not here!” You snapped, frustrated and a little more confident since he wasn’t physically in your room, just a disembodied voice on a phone. “He came by earlier cause I called Heyward’s for groceries. God, what is your problem today?”

“My problem is that my girlfriend is unappreciative of the fact that I had other shit to do and I put it aside to take you out.”

“I’m sick!” You practically yelled it, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room before pulling your blankets over your head and closing your eyes. The phone rang again, ten more times in total but you ignored the calls, trying to get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow John B would be feeling different, better.

You pulled off the road and down the dirt driveway that Big John had always sworn he was going to pave. It had never happened, mostly because saying things and doing them were not actions easily connected in either of the Routledge’s minds. You parked behind an older Subaru that you recognised as Kiara’s, a ‘save the turtles’ bumper sticker on display near the license plate.

There were other cars, some familiar to you, like Luke Maybank’s truck, no doubt driven over by JJ, or Sarah’s SUV, but there were other cars you didn’t recognise. Ones that belonged to people you didn’t know well enough or know at all. You cut the engine but didn’t open the door, sitting there in the yard just staring at the house. Could you do this? Could you walk back in there? Would the parts of you that had taken so long to reconstruct, the pieces that you had to reassemble into some new version of a past you, survive inside that place?

It had been some months, years really, since you had run. Not so long that you had erased all the bad memories but long enough that they no longer played on a loop in your mind. John B wasn’t your only example of love, just the worst one.

The car door felt heavy when you shut it though not so much as the screen door on the porch of the chateau. It was Sarah who answered when you knocked, graduation gift tucked securely under your arm. She hugged you, looking a little more tired than you remembered and you wondered how much of a place you had to step in and say something. Was she there yet? That desperate place where she would listen because this wasn’t what she remembered wanting.

“How’re you?” You had never been mad at Sarah. Everyone always acted like you were, they scarcely talked about her, as if you were waiting for the chance to villainize her. In actuality, you liked Sarah, she was too good for this.

“Good,” her smile strained, “we didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I promised Pope I’d be at his graduation.” You replied, stepping inside with her. Pope looked up at the sound of his name, smiling at you, “I never break a promise.”

You stood there in the Chateau, eyes cast just to the side of John B as he tried to explain some trip to Chapel Hill that he took. You stared down the picture of his mom, smiling, and wondered if Big John was the same sort of man his son had become. Had she left because she was selfish or because she wanted her freedom back?

“…and I needed to get into the college to see the paper-“ he kept going, overfilling the story with details you didn’t think actually mattered at all.

“So what’s your point?” You tried again to get him there. Maybe it was the after effects of being sick but the exhaustion that you’d been feeling for the past year and a half had crept into your bones and settled there, wrapping you up like a blanket. You had no other way to explain yourself other than to say that you felt done. Done with this conversation, with his roundabout way of telling you something you didn’t want to hear, as if he got brownie points for ‘breaking the news’ delicately.

“Sarah and I kissed.” John B replied.

“Oh.” What emotion did he want you to have, which did he think you were still capable of mustering?

“I don’t love you anymore, I don’t think I ever did.”

You had to agree, really. You hoped he didn’t, at least, because if this was the way John B loved people, by draining them of any kind of life at all, you hated yourself even more for hanging on.

“Oh my god!” Kiara hugged you next, followed by Pope. John B was by the table, you had seen him immediately, waited for the ache but it didn’t come. He was watching you though, as if he was assessing the damage. “You look good,” Kiara said, “happy.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling, “I am.”

The house was just a house after all, just walls put together and not a prison. And John B was just a boy.

Taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @mysterious-adventurer @minigranger @obxsummer

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

cross country (gbd)

description: when you get stuck in california during quarantine with a dwindling lease at the dolan’s house, grayson wants nothing more than for you to get to new jersey with him

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: fluff, this is literally um the softest thing i’ve written???, quarantine/COVID, grayson spoiling Y/N, you get the picture hehe

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy, send me some feedback and I’ll give you my eternal love :)

You never wanted to lift another box in your whole life, that was for damn sure. There was sweat running down your forehead as you lifted the next one, carrying the cardboard all the way through the house into the living room, which was becoming a huge pile of everything that the twins had acquired over their years in LA.

The plan was simple: the boys were going home to jersey to see their mom before the quarantine got too serious, and then they were coming right back because they needed to find a place in LA, seeing that their lease was ending.

Well, needless to say, that plan had gone to absolute shit. And that meant you were thousands of miles away from Grayson, and had three days before you would be homeless.

Lovely.

The nice thing about it was that you didn’t have much time to mope - since the boys were still in jersey, all the packing was left up to you. And while you were efficient, it didn’t mean it wasn’t a lot of fucking work.

You went back into Ethan’s room, getting another box of clothes. As you walked, your phone vibrated in the pocket on the side of your leggings. You knew who it was, but you waited until you got to the living room and sat the box down to answer it.

A facetime from Grayson. That brightened your mood considerably.

When you swiped over, you immediately relaxed a bit at the sight of his face. His hair was getting so long during quarantine, and it was pushed back with a headband he’d borrowed from his mom, no doubt. He was in a tshirt, which was different than the rest of the times he’d called you. Which was about ten times a day.

“Hey baby,” you smiled at him, catching your breath as you walked back to your shared room. As much as you wanted to sit down and relax and talk to your boyfriend, there wasn’t enough time for all that.

“You look exhausted,” was the first thing he said.

“Wow, thank you so much, love you too,” you teased.

“You look beautiful, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that-”

“I’m kidding Gray. And before you start worrying for the hundredth time today, I’m fine,” you reminded him as you pulled out a dresser drawer you shared, beginning to transfer the clothes into yet another box. He watched you work with sad eyes, and you knew what was coming before he said it.

“I feel like shit that you’re doing all this work.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“Would you do it for me? If you were stuck across the country in my house-”

“Our house,” he corrected. You couldn’t tell if he was referring to sharing with you or with Ethan, or both, but you kept going regardless.

“Okay, stuck in our house, and I needed to pack it all up, would you do it for me?”

He hesitated, and you knew he didn’t have a good response to that.

“That’s different,” was his only comeback, and you laughed a bit.

“Bullshit. You’re just mad because I’m gonna have to wear all your clothes cause none of mine will fit over my new muscles,” you joked, flexing your scrawny arms. You knew you looked dumb, but it got the laugh out of Grayson that you were hoping for, and that’s all that mattered.

“Right, you act like you don’t just wear my clothes all the time anyways. I’m not even sure you have any clothes of your own,” he teased, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh really? I could have sworn these were mine.” You dug around the drawer, finding a particularly nice pair of lace panties, holding them up to the screen. He groaned, falling out of screen for a moment. It took a second for you to realize he’d fallen back on the bed.

“You don’t play fair,” he said once he moved his phone back to his face. “I miss you so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.”

You were pretty sure you had an idea. This was now week four without seeing him in person, and it was actually awful. You’d known it would suck, but you didn’t think it would hurt to be away from him. And you were doing everything you both could - facetime dates, phone calls, texting, he’d even written a letter to you. But there was just something about being in his arms, hearing his laugh without the distortion of a phone speaker, waking up next to him; it couldn’t be replaced.

Which meant you needed to mention your plan.

“I wanna come to jersey,” you started.

“You know I would kill to have you here baby, you know that.”

“Grayson, the lease is ending. I think that counts as a reason for emergency travel. I mean, I’m technically gonna be homeless,” you reminded him. “And I know I can stay with Shane, or with Jeffree.” They had been nice enough to offer. Hell, Jeffree was letting the boys store everything at his house, even the cars. “But I wanna be with you.”

“I don’t want you on a plane. You could get sick.”

“I won’t fly. I’ll take the van. I mean, that’s why you built it, isn’t it?”

“Y/N...”

“I know, it seems crazy. But if I split it up into three days, I could do it. I’d be careful at gas stations, pack up enough food to last me. You know I can drive for forever, I could probably pull 15 hours or so a day, that would get me back pretty quick, and I’d be safe.”

“Safe,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Y/N, I was sketched out sleeping in that thing with two other grown men with me. The thought of you sleeping in there, alone in some parking lot...” he trailed off. “No. It’s too risky.”

“Gray-”

“Baby I want you here more than anything. Not knowing when I’m gonna see you again is actually killing me, but I’m not putting you at risk over that.”

“Okay, well, let’s compromise then. What would make you feel safer about it?”

“You not doing it,” he said bluntly.

“Be serious babe.”

“You sleeping alone out there. I know you’d be fine with the driving, but I’m not okay with you sleeping in the van by yourself.”

“Okay...” you paused for a minute, trying to think of a solution. “Okay, what if I drove at night, and then I slept during the day? Less people on the roads, and I think we’d both feel safer if I was sleeping during the daylight. Would that work?”

“That’s better. I still don’t love it. I’m not trying to be difficult, I just, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he mumbled, picking at the fabric on his blanket.

“I know that baby, to be honest the thought of sleeping in there alone scares me a little bit too. But I’m willing to do it if it means I get to see you.”

Grayson was silent for a while. You knew he was fighting with himself, and that he probably felt selfish for even considering giving in. But you also knew, deep down, you were going to do it no matter how much he protested. So you were glad when he finally conceded with a simple “I love you”.

Now, with the realization that you were going to see him in just a few days, your motivation was renewed ten fold, and you got to work.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

night one

You would have thought it wouldn’t be hard to get to sleep after the day you’d had.

You were wrong.

The furniture had been moved out - Jeffree had been nice enough to hire a few movers to come get the furniture and the cars. Now, the house lay empty besides your bags that would go with you in the van, and you couldn’t wait to get on the road. Correction; you couldn’t wait to get to Grayson. The thought of seeing him again gave you butterflies.

Once everything was done and final, you drug a few of the cushions out of the bed in the van, bringing them into the air conditioning so you could try to snag a few hours of sleep.

While you managed to get a bit of rest, it was mostly futile. The quicker you got on the road, the quicker you’d get to jersey.

So with that, you packed up the van with all the food and snacks you had, reassembled the bed, tossed your bag in and climbed in the drivers seat.

I’m leaving, see you so soon!!!!!! you sent to Grayson, not being able to contain your excitement.

4pm is not a night drive... he responded quickly.

shut up im excited BE EXCITED

you know i’m excited. be careful, I’ll call you in a little while x

With that, you drove out of the driveway for the last time, with New Jersey in the GPS.

And the drive wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Grayson called you around 7pm to check on you and keep you company. You ate the sandwich you’d made as the sun set, and you continued down the road. It was peaceful if you were honest, and the van drove so nicely - Grayson really had done a good job.

Although he tried to stay up, Grayson’s snoring took over around 11pm (2am jersey time you reminded yourself), so you hung up and starting blasting some of your favorite tunes to keep you alert and awake. Not having any traffic was a bonus, and you were amazed with the progress you were making. By the time the sun came up, you were already in Colorado. You resorted to driving until around ten, which landed you about at the border of Nebraska after a whopping 18 hours. You pulled into a non-sketchy looking parking lot, relieved that you’d found one.

I’m stopping to sleep for a few hours. I love you!

You sent it and started rummaging around in your bag, finding your toothbrush, toothpaste and pajamas. You brushed your teeth outside using your water bottle, changing in the car and cuddling up in bed. The bedding smelled a bit like the boys, which was comforting. Just as you started the settle down, your phone rang, Grayson’s contact photo popping up. You swiped over to open it, happy to see his face.

“Hey baby, I was just about to get some sleep actually,” you said. And now that you had laid down, you realized how tired you truly were.

“I know. I’ll mute my side so I don’t keep you up, but I’ll be here in case you need me,” he said casually.

“Grayson you don’t have to-”

“I want to. It’ll make me feel better, knowing someone is watching out for you while you’re asleep.”

It was so sweet that you started to tear up, so you just buried your face in the pillow instead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too baby, get some sleep.”

And you did.

-------------------------------------------------------------

night two

You woke up around five, fully refreshed - other than feeling like you needed a shower. You stretched out before getting up and heading to brush your teeth. When you got back in the van you got changed into some of the clothes you brought, happy to have on something fresh.

“That’s my hoodie.” The male voice startled you and you squealed, covering yourself.

“Baby it’s just me! It’s me!” It took you a minute to realize that it was Grayson speaking to you from your phone, which also was pointed where he could see you.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You huffed, pulling the fabric over your head.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying the show,” he blushed, smirking at you a bit. You rolled your eyes, but giggled with him as you climbed into the drivers seat once again, pulling out the dinner you had packed, deciding to eat a bit before getting back on the road.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Grayson sighed. You looked at your screen closely and realized he was in his workshop.

“I’ll be there so soon. Now, go build some stuff, I’m all safe and awake now. I love you,” you smiled, knowing he would never be the first to hang up.

“Okay baby. Drive safe, call me if you get bored.”

“I will, love you!”

And so you took off, heading through Nebraska. The states seemed to be getting quicker now as you passed through Iowa, then Illinois, and even Indiana. Grayson called, and even Ethan kept you company for a few hours on the drive, making it go by fast. By the time you got to Ohio, the sun was high in the sky and you realized you actually weren’t that far from jersey. Only another seven hours, and if you kept driving, it would put you at their house around 7pm. You thought about the cold brew that you’d stashed in the fridge in case you’d struggled through the nights.

You could use it, and you could make it. In all honesty, you weren’t even that tired as the excitement started to mount.

But you also knew that Grayson would rather you just sleep, and that he was going to call you again. So, you had to hatch a plan.

You pulled into a nice looking parking lot, prepared to set it into motion.

You changed into your pajama shirt, taking your hair out of it’s bun so it looked like you were getting ready to go to bed. Taking a deep breath, you facetimed Gray.

“Is it bedtime?” was how he answered, making you laugh. He was in the kitchen at home, making lunch you were sure.

“Yeah, I made some good progress! I should be getting in around 8am or so tomorrow morning,” you explained, hoping he couldn’t see through you.

“I can’t wait. I’m gonna pamper you so hard for all the work you did, that’s a promise.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“I can’t wait. But I’ve got sad news.”

He perked up at that, putting down the spatula he was using.

“My phone is kinda low on battery, so I don’t think we can facetime tonight. I don’t want it to be dead in the morning, and I can’t run the van,” you sighed, faking sadness.

“Are you in a safe area?”

“Yeah, I feel totally safe here. See, look.” You turned the phone around, showing him the lot you were in.

He wasn’t happy about it you could tell, but he trusted you. And thinking about how excited he would be made you feel less bad about your white lie.

“Well, okay. Just text me when you wake up okay? I love you.”

“Love you more!”

“Doubtful. Get some rest,” he smiled, hanging up.

“Ha!” you exclaimed to yourself, smiling and fist pumping the air. Wow. You really were going crazy after being alone so long. You climbed in the driver’s seat again, pulling the cold brew out of the fridge and popping it open as you started to drive again.

At first you were so excited that it felt like time was flying, but by the last few hours it was dragging by. The sun set, and the kiss of dusk was hanging over the trees as you got closer and closer.

But when the GPS changed from hours to minutes, and the roads changed from interstates to back roads, you were fully awake once again. You’d actually managed to pull off almost 24 hours of straight driving. When you pulled into the driveway, there was a gate and armed security - the same ones that the boys had hired in LA.

“Hey guys, I’m early, I’m here to surprise Gray,” you explained. They were sweet like usual and happily let you through, closing the gate behind you. With some renewed energy, you stopped the van and brushed your teeth again - in all honesty, you felt disgusting and couldn’t wait for a shower, but the coffee breath was a definite no go. If you were going to kiss Grayson for the first time in a freakin month, you didn’t want to be worried about anything.

Once you were back in the drivers seat, it was time for a little fun.

You pulled your phone out, facetiming Grayson and driving super slow. He picked up quickly, concern on his face.

“Is something wrong?” was the first thing he asked.

“No, i’m okay. I started driving again cause I couldn’t sleep, but now I’m lost. My GPS took me onto some long ass gravel road, and now I’m surrounded by trees and I have no clue where I am,” you ranted, using every ounce of acting ability you had to not tip him off.

“Slow down, hey it’s alright. Why don’t you just turn around and go back the way you came, and then we can figure it out.”

“I don’t know, I think theres a building or something up ahead of me, maybe a store? I could ask somebody for directions?”

“I’d rather you just go back. I don’t trust some random store at the end of some sus ass road. Just turn around baby,” he pleaded, getting a bit panicked. Luckily, you knew it wouldn’t last long because you were already in front of the house. You cut the lights on the van.

“Here, you tell me if it’s sus. What do you think?” You flipped the camera around, showing him the house.

“I mean - wait. WAIT. WHAT? WHAT!? NO FUCKIN WAY,” he yelled, obviously freaking out. You laughed, hanging up the call and waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, you’d barely gotten the driver door open when Grayson came barreling out of the front door.

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to climb down. Grayson beat you to it, coming to the opening of the door and reaching up to pull you out of the car. You were laughing as he grabbed you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“No fuckin way, no fuckin way that you’re actually here right now! What the fuck!”

“Surprise!”

“Did you drive all night? Or all day? I just... WHAT!?” He was truly speechless and it was the most adorable thing in the world. He leaned back slightly so he could look at you, eyes wide with amazement.

“Maybe,” you grinned, shrugging.

“God I love you. C’mere.” His hands slid down to your hips, then around to your ass and you knew exactly what he wanted. You jumped and he caught you as your legs went around his waist, and then his lips were on yours.

It was like the best first kiss you could possibly imagine. You’d thought about kissing him constantly while you were apart, but you were realizing that it had done this no justice. His lips were soft and warm against yours, the taste of him familiar and wonderful. Your hair started to move in the wind and you realized that he was spinning the two of you around, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath you. You could feel the smile on his face as you kissed him, never wanting it to end.

“Ewwwww,” was the only thing that could have brought you out of it, and sure enough, it did. Ethan was on the porch, leaning against the pillars. Despite his words, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey E,” you smiled, laughing a bit at how you must look right now, waving at him while Grayson was still holding you up.

“Go say hi, I’ll get your stuff,” Grayson smiled, kissing your temple and putting you down. You turned and jogged towards Ethan, who gave you the biggest bear hug, even spinning you around a little bit.

“Missed you squirt,” he teased, swaying back and forth a bit.

“Missed you too,” you grinned, squeezing him tightly.

“Thanks again for uh saving all our possessions and moving all our shit.”

“You’re very welcome. And you also have a shoe problem, just so you know,” you teased.

“I do not!” He exclaimed, putting you in a bit of a head lock and rustling your hair. You pushed against him but it was futile, and you were stuck until Grayson came back and saved you.

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to mom and get you to a nice bed,” he smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you inside. You’d only been to the house in Jersey a few times, and it was under renovation, so the finished product was a very welcome sight. It was all light walls and tables with dark finishes, cozy yet bright at the same time, even at night.

Lisa came around the corner, lighting up when she noticed you were there.

“Y/N! Grayson told me you weren’t gonna be here until tomorrow!” She gave him a bit of a scolding look, which made you laugh.

“That’s on me Li, I got a little too impatient and decide to drive on through,” you explained, accepting the hug she gave you.

“Well you must be exhausted, you go on upstairs and get some rest, we can catch up tomorrow,” she assured you, giving you another squeeze before letting you go.

You didn’t even try for the boys bedroom - you knew that Grayson had been sleeping in the laundry room. So you headed in that direction, Gray in tow with your duffle bag in hand. As you saw the coziness of the bed, every last bit of energy you had drained from you. The crash was coming, and it was coming soon.

“You ready to sleep?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I really need to shower, I feel disgusting,” you mumbled. Just twenty minutes, and you would be able to sleep. You could do that, for sure.

“Okay, here I’ll get you a towel and stuff, you remember where it is?”

“Yep, I’ll be there in a second.”

You rummaged through your bag, finding your toiletries and some clothes. But when you saw Grayson’s stack of shirts, you couldn’t help but snag one. Everything you’d had at the house had lost it’s scent, and you couldn’t help but breathe it in for a second before heading to the bathroom.

When you got there, Grayson was laying out two towels, and already had his shirt off. You stared for a moment, taking it all in, but even with the view your eyelids were heavy. You were fading, fast, and you had the sudden realization that if you all tried to have reunion sex later, you would probably be so exhausted you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. And you really wanted to enjoy it.

“Gray,” you said, walking over to him.

“Did you find everything you needed? I’m sure mom has some extra stuff if you need it.”

“No I’m good, I have everything. It’s just-”

He looked up then, cocking an eyebrow. It took him a minute, but when it clicked you saw him smile softly, coming over to you.

“It’s not about that. I just wanna take care of you, that’s all. I figured you’d be too tired,” he explained.

“I’m sorry baby.”

He just kissed you, hands finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“No apologies necessary. C’mon, let’s get you clean.”

You both stripped down the rest of the way and he turned on the shower, which was huge. The tile was white and marble like, and the water pressure made you feel like you were in a spa as you brought your toiletries in. Grayson washed his hair quickly while you let the water run over you, and when he was done you felt his hands find your shoulders, rubbing at the knots he found with his thumbs. You relaxed back into his touch, closing your eyes and resting your back on his chest.

“Let me get your hair,” he said, reaching behind him to get the shampoo. You didn’t have a care in the world as he worked the suds through your scalp, making sure to get every bit of it before he started to rinse it out. By the time he made it to washing your body you were practically melted, so lost in the relaxation that you weren’t even sure it was real.

“You’re humming,” Grayson teased, pressing a kiss to your shoulder after you were rinsed off.

“Am I?” You mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Let’s get you dry before you pass out on me.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he helped you out of the shower, wrapping you up in a towel and kissing your nose. “You should let me do this more often.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, his statement waking you up a bit as you started drying yourself off.

“Well, you are miss independent you know. Miss ‘I can pack up an entire house with nobody’s help’ and ‘I can drive across the country solo, no big deal.’ I like when you let me take care of you sometimes,” he mused, rubbing his towel over his body and hair quickly before pulling on his boxers.

“Does that mean I get a free ride to bed?” You teased, keeping it light hearted even though you were melting at his words.

“Not dripping wet you don’t,” he smiled, taking your towel and running it over your hair, making you giggle. You were sure it looked something like Albert Einstein when he pulled the fabric away, but he kissed you anyways, passing you a shirt, shorts and your undies. You put them all on quickly, your limbs heavy with fatigue.

“Alright, off to bed.” With that, he scooped you up bridal style, carrying you out the door, down the hall and into the laundry room. He sat you down gently on your feet for a moment, pulling the covers back and climbing in, immediately opening his arms for you.

“I know you’re not tired,” you mumbled, crawling into bed and immediately resting your cheek on his chest. You put one leg over his, wrapping your arms around his bare chest as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Doesn’t matter. Not a place in the world I would rather be. Now sleep so I can spoil you like I had planned to tomorrow.”

If you’d had any energy left you would have questioned him, but instead you lulled off to sleep in his arms, more content than you could remember being in a long, long time.

#:)#im living for the new jersey boys to be honest #lynds writes #grayson imagines #this one was lowkey fun #send me some requests and let me know what you thought of this one!!!!!#grayson dolan #dolan twin imagines #dolan twins imagines

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superblizzardfire · 4 years

Text

The Surprise Gift (Bruce & Kamala)

(AO3 Link)

Kamala wasn’t expecting any presents for her seventeenth birthday. But the universe gave her a surprise one anyway…

‘Food poisoning,’ she gasped, shaking as she knelt over the toilet. ‘Figures.’

‘I suspect the pre-packaged egg mayonnaise sandwiches were to blame, Miss Khan,’ said JARVIS.

‘Yeah, I thought they tasted funny.’ She’d woken up feeling nauseous, taken one sip of water and immediately dashed to the bathroom to throw up. Now she gripped the cold metal of the bowl and unleashed a second wave, the burning in her throat bringing tears to her eyes. It was her own fault. But supply runs were inconsistent, and they had to eat when they could.

On the plus side, at least she was throwing up in a bathroom on the Chimera, the iconic helicarrier that was once home to the Avengers (and now housed only one).

‘Shall I inform Doctor Banner?’ asked JARVIS.

‘No! God no, I don’t want him to see me like this!’ Sweat-soaked hair and vomit-stained Captain America pyjamas. Not a good look, and she’d already embarrassed herself in front of one of her childhood heroes this week. She’d been singing along to Cheap Thrills in her room, not realising that she was broadcasting herself through the whole ship. She hadn’t been able to meet Bruce's eye for the rest of the day.

For the last three weeks, they’d been searching for Tony Stark. JARVIS kept bringing up false leads, so they travelled from country to country, flying out in the Quinjet for supply runs and reconnaissance missions. It sounded like something from Kamala’s most self-indulgent fanfics: a secret mission where she and Doctor Banner set out to reassemble the Avengers, five years after they were split apart. It was literally the coolest thing that had ever happened to her… except it wasn’t turning out to be as fun as she’d hoped.

When she’d vomited up what felt like everything she had, Kamala clambered up and flushed away the eggy mess before rinsing out her mouth. The Chimera wasn’t fully operational yet: no hot water, and everything was filmed with dust. She stared at herself in the mirror, panting. Yup, she looked like an absolute mess. On her birthday. This sucked.

‘Uh, hey Kamala? Are you up?’ Bruce's voice echoed through the room.

Crap. ‘Morning, Bruce!’ she said brightly, then shut her eyes tightly as the room seemed to spin around her. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m just running a few tests on those energy weapons we found. I could use a hand, if you’ve got a minute?’ Bruce always seemed to think he was being a bother. He could make “pass the salt” sound like he was asking a huge favour. ‘Only if you’re not busy.’

‘Sure thing,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll be right – oh god – ‘ She lurched back to the toilet as another wave of nausea swept over her. With nothing left to bring up, her stomach clenched painfully.

‘Are you okay? Kamala?’

But she couldn’t reply. Her breath came in harsh sobs through gritted teeth. She was trying so hard to do her job here, to help Bruce find the Avengers and to hold her own in the fighting. But she didn’t feel like an adult. She felt like a scared kid in disguise. And now she felt like death, it was difficult to maintain that charade.

The beep of the door unlocking was the only warning she got before Bruce ran into the room. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, it’s just food poisoning. I’ll be down in a minute, I promise.’ She squinted up at him. Bruce wore his usual purple shirt and pants (Hulk had ruined at least five of those shirts, how many did he have?) with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. His arms were folded as he stared down at her in concern.

He sighed. ‘I told you not to eat the egg sandwiches.’

‘You ate them just fine.’

‘Well, I’m immune to food poisoning. You’re not. And you’re not coming down to the lab, okay? You need to rest.’ He spoke gently, but she still felt she’d let him down somehow. ‘Take the day off.’

They couldn’t afford to take days off. They needed to find Tony. Now because of her they’d be behind. Black Widow would have been stronger than this. Anyone other than Kamala would be stronger than this. But she felt so awful that she just said in a small voice, ‘Okay.’

‘Okay,’ Bruce echoed. Then he started backing out of the door. ‘I’m just gonna go… do some things. Can I um, get you anything? Bring you anything?’

Kamala burst into tears.

‘Hey, it’s gonna be okay.’ Bruce crossed the room and knelt beside her, all awkwardness momentarily forgotten.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just – so hard sometimes,’ she sobbed. ‘I want to go home and see my family and just have a normal life, and I know I can’t because we have a job to do and – ‘

‘You’re allowed to want those things. You’re only human.’

Except she wasn’t, was she? Not quite. She was a human with superpowers, and that meant she had a responsibility to protect others. But right now she wasn’t sure she could even protect herself. The tears kept coming, and her chest shuddered with uneven breaths. She wanted to curl up on the cold bathroom floor and pass out.

She swayed, and Bruce held her shoulder to steady her. ‘You’re going to burn yourself out. No one can be on top form all the time. I’m pretty useless for days after Hulking out, and you don’t judge me for it. I think you’re allowed to have a bad day.’

Kamala leaned forward and hid her face in his shoulder. He stiffened in surprise, then hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in a hug. ‘It’s my birthday,’ she sniffled.

‘Today? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Didn’t want it to be a big deal. We’ve got bigger things to worry about.’ She closed her eyes, knowing that her forehead would feel hot against his shoulder.

Bruce's low, gentle voice rumbled in her ear. ‘Okay. You’re going to stay here and get some rest, doctor’s orders. JARVIS can keep an eye on you. Can you stand?’

She could, but leaned heavily on him as he helped her walk back to bed. ‘Sorry I got sick on your shirt,’ she mumbled.

‘I’ve got plenty of spares, don’t worry.’ He brought her a cup of water and an empty bucket from the pile in the corner of the room. ‘Call me if you need anything, okay?’

‘Thanks, Bruce.’ She lay down and drew the blankets over herself. Bruce lingered a few moments longer, clearly searching for something else to say, then awkwardly edged out of the room. Kamala gazed out of the window until she fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was afternoon. Her head hurt and her mouth tasted awful, but the nausea seemed to have passed. She checked her phone and found birthday messages from family and friends, which raised her spirits a little. When she reached for the water beside the bed, there was a packet of plain crackers and some ibuprofen there too. Bruce must have returned to check on her.

Then Kamala spotted the parcel at the foot of the bed.

A slow smile grew on her face as she picked it up. It was thick and rectangular, and wrapped in thin graph paper from the lab. An effort had been made to liven it up with stars drawn in blue and red ballpoint pen.

She unwrapped it slowly. It was a thick, spiralbound notebook. The edges of the paper had been coloured neon blue (presumably using a salvaged highlighter), and the front cover had been replaced with a homemade one: a printed photograph from five years ago. A smiling Kamala posed with the Avengers whilst coloured streamers fell around them. It was one of the best memories of her life, and despite the events that had occurred after it, the sight still made her smile. ‘Thanks, Bruce,’ she whispered.

When she turned to the first page, there was a message written in small, neat script:

Happy Birthday Kamala! I hope this comes in useful. You’re an amazing writer, don’t forget how far you’ve come.

Bruce

Writing had always been Kamala’s passion, although since they’d embarked on their Avengers quest she hadn’t given it much thought. She certainly hadn’t entertained any fanfiction ideas; it felt weirder to write it when you knew the characters you were writing about. Maybe she could try something new, though.

She dug out a pen from her bag. Even the simple weight of a notebook in her lap brought her a comforting familiarity. That even aboard the Chimera, far from home, she could slip away into a world of her choosing. No bad guys to fight or buildings to destroy. Just the simple act of creating something for the fun of it.

Kamala clicked her pen, snuggled down under the covers, and began to write.

#Bruce Banner #Kamala Khan #Marvel's Avengers #Avengers Game #my fic #Blizzard plays Avengers #first in the fandom tag on AO3!

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