#ive been just slowly getting more comfortable in my own skin..i love life
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rivermoonmythos · 2 months ago
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as a mormon child i never got why people loved religion so much, until i converted to hellenism- i've never been so happy about belief and my place on the planet, ive never felt so loved
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mgswuivxsy · 24 days ago
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i won’t blame a soul for it, not because there is no one to blame, but because i don’t even know where to start, as every soul i’ve cared about and loved has watched me slowly vanish away from this world again but they never did anything about it, as my mother left me alone in this place like she used to do when i was six years old waking up in the middle of the weight realizing my mommy isn’t next to me , as my baby decided to tell me that i was right from the beginning, im not a person someone can love for the long term, im so hard to be loved , to be chosen for the long path, because at one point, you will realize im actually draining, and i have to many flaws that you would get sick of one day, and if you could love me for a day, you would get tired of me the next day, amd if you loved me for seven years, you would get tired of me at the eighth year, beacuse i was not made to be loved my dear, amd i told you from the start, you would stop loving me one day, so dont let me love you that much, because if i loved you i would never stop loving you, but i will have to watch you fall out of love with me, because im not madr to be loved, i can only love , i can only be too much and not enough, u could dissapear for years but i will still love you in every simgle day of them, but i would never let you know all of that, i woulf never let you know about the way i begged god for us to get better when i was thr one leaving you behind, because i didnt mean to do it in that way that time, i just didnt know what to do , my heart feels heavy as im wrifing these words, im in a bed that doesnt feel as comfortable as my own bed used to feel, i have no cuts all over my hands so you cant tell i have a bad thoughts, im not 30 kg so you cant tell that the only thimg i thought of today was the 500 calories im not supposed to consume , my baby it feels so cold amd i just wanna go home, but u dont even know where is my home anymorr, i dont even know where my owm soul is , so i can take it with me in a long journey to fimd our home, im so sorry my dear self, this wasnt what we fought for, this isnt anything close to what we dessrve to get after the long run, but ivr never wished for death as i did the last two month, and ive neverr been more scarwd of death in my whole life like i did tge last to months , so im sorry i cant take ypu somewhere far from here, amd im sorry i cantove it in this place, and im sorry that my life led to this point where there isnt a single soul that can hold me right now , or even tried to hold me for the past months where it felt like i was dying so slow, i miss relapsing so much, i miss throwimg up, and cuting holes in my skin, i was going to do it weeks ago, not aware of how many years has ive been clean for, but the silly thing, i couldnt get the razor out, it was just stuck, and i kept trying to get it out as she was calling my phone, but at the end i couldnt get the razor out and cut holes in my skin, amd i couldnt amswer her calls, and somehow i was ar the bathroom floor, as the razor is infront of me, and im cryimg for whatever felt like decades, i feel guilty for being scared of death, amd i feel guilty for not being sick, amd i feel guilty for her not hating me, and i feel guilty for the person i camt be for my family, i feel sorry for dissapointing them, for not being anything close to tge expectaions everyone has got for me, but i just wish to be sick, i just wish i can be sick, i just wish tommorow i wont be toi weak, and ill be able to throw out the heavy pain in my chest, throw it all up, and feel the satsfaction of the sore lungs and throat that hurts way too much, im so sorry baby but you couldve waited for me to get sick again before you fall out of love witg me, it wouldve made me feel proud, to be too sick for you to love , but now i font seem sick and yoy are falling out of love with me? huh am i that bad, you are to scared to admit it , but we both knew, it was never going to be me to fall out of love first, it was never me falling out of love, and two years ago..
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heartlites · 10 months ago
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i had a dream where a mushroom grew under my skin, i did a tarot reading, my inner self is collapsing, and the therapist ive been seeing for approaching a decade is looking to retire from public facing/work with clients in the next one to two years.
back to using my blog as a little bit of a dairy these days, i suppose
there's just so much on my mind. im aching from the inside out, like i need to throw up to get all the grief out of my body.
in the last week, i had a dream that felt poignant. ive been dreaming kind of vividly the last couple weeks, things that have stress bleeding into them. normal dreams turning into what i do for my job, benign things becoming mild forms of body horror.
the dream in particular im referring to was one where i felt like i had a kind of sore on my left armpit. i went to 'pop it,' like perhaps it was an ingrown hair or simple black head. as it came out, the mass slowly got thicker and larger, a milky white and genuinely gross. i was shocked and appalled something so seemingly large came from such a small place, just a pore in my skin, and slowly rolled it between my fingers in bewilderment. as i did, parts of the white cylindrical shaped mess that came from underneath my skin started to unfurl and i began to recognize the the unfurling cap of a mushroom and eventually the gills underneath the cap. as soon as i recognized that, i immediately felt insanely ill inside my own body and like i was rotting from the inside out. i woke up not long after that with the need to tear my skin off my own body. the dream sat with me for a long time with its vividness and how grotesque it made me feel inside my own body.
that weekend, i did a tarot reading. five cards. it began with a major arcana, strength, upright. a strong beginning and one that gave me comfort; strength is a tarot card im very partial to in general because its depiction is one of gentle, inner strength and wisdom. i felt assured- but then the reading from there got more and more complex.
ace of coins, upright; seven of cups, upright; seven of swords, upright; six of swords, reversed. the cards all feel very connected given the bridge of sevens, and the next link being sword into sword. there are parts of the reading that confuse me still, but ultimately i think it meant that inner change is coming, or trying to happen, but im fighting it and it wont be easy.
monday came. a woman screamed at me over the phone at work. i spent the day so overwhelmed with grief, emotion, and distress my eyes were puffy and burning from crying. my nose was sore. my throat hurt. all i could think was i needed help. i needed help. i needed help more than twice a month. i wanted to admit myself to a psych ward.
before all of this, i saw my therapist last week. we talked. i usually lead the conversation a lot and i end up just rambling, sometimes crying. usually crying. i've been seeing my therapist for so long that i know a little about her life, too. i mentioned that i think i wanted help with someone for my thoughts and feelings wrt my gender and gender expression. its not really her area of expertise (hers is grief and trauma). we talked a little more and we discussed a little about how she is considering retiring from the public work of working with clients. she'll still run her business, but probably won't take clients.
its not a change that scares me too much, but it is a little nerve-wracking. ive been seeing her for so long, since i was about 19 or 20. my dad was the one who sought out help to help me find her. i havent had to search for a therapist entirely on my own. its hard to know where and who i want to try to search for cause i do have this background need of wanting help with my queerness and id love to have a queer therapist, but in general, i am plagued constantly by grief, trauma, and loss. idk how to find someone who does both. im worried. im scared.
my life feels so out of my control. i feel so isolated from everything, everyone. lost in my own head. i just ache ache ache. i dont know what to do with myself. all i can think is that i need help, i need help, i need help and i dont know what to do to get it, who to go to, how to get it. ive been going through the throes of ptsd episodes the last few weeks, maybe month.
this doesnt even dig into my concerns and worries about my physical health, too. ive had pretty normal menstrual cycles my entire life minus one point in time where i didnt have a period for several months, i believe due to stress. the beginning of this year, though, i didn't have my period for a while too and then i started having light bleeding that went on for around two weeks. then, all of a sudden, this week, ive had the heaviest period ive ever had in my life.
my mom had the same issues around my age. i think its probably ovarian cysts which are ultimately pretty common and not terrible to deal with. my mom had them too- but then she later had cervical cancer. i have to finally give in and have an exam done for my health, but my god am i scared. i dont want to. i really dont want to. i know im going to have a ptsd meltdown when i do. i know. and i dont know how well i can manage having these ptsd episodes where part of them are due to emotional and psychological trauma, and then more episodes rooted in my sexual traumas. idk what im going to do. im so scared and i feel so alone facing all this on my own. i dont know who to turn to or talk to.
im so tired and broken. thats all i can think. i need help. im breaking, im breaking, im broken.
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kazuwhora · 2 years ago
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— PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA
⨳ WARNINGS. 18+, fem!reader, somnophilia, creampie, and some soft sweetness <3
⨳ WORD COUNT. 2k+
⨳ NOTE. commission for the lovely @sohya <3 thank u for being so patient as I get settled in my new place and new life! I’ll be slowly chipping at the rest of my commissions, but for now pls be kind this is the first thing ive written in almost three months <3
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄 and the hum of a fan that fills the space around you— the pillowy air is thick, but the relief of the gentle wind is enough to make you sigh as you prop your feet up on the coffee table and lay back against the cushions of the sofa. your job has taken every ounce of energy from you— the summer heat at its heels lapping up whatever is left behind, and you feel like your body could melt into the fabric at the mere thought of getting up. even the click of the lock and the creak of the door across the room isn’t enough to excite you, but you watch as ruffles of curly blue hair turn the corner with a quiet sigh to match.
souya’s face is dim, filtered by the soft light of the room as he drops his bags and immediately sheds the apron from his waist and the bandana from his hair. you’ve always loved the way his hair falls in front of his face after a long day at work, or the way his eyes tend to hide behind the baby blue strands as the exhaustion begins to set into his skin.
he’s not one for talking— especially not when the weight of the air feels like it could crush his throat, but the heat has never kept him from curling up beside you as he rests his head against your shoulder with a sigh.
“hi baby” you hum, running a hand through his hair as he softens against your body.
souya barely mumbles back, too tired from the world around him to choke out more than a quiet “hmmm” as if to say hi in his own form of words. so instead, his hands snake around your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt as he nuzzles himself into your neck.
as much as you’ve always been head over heels for your boyfriend, there’s no denying his clinginess that comes in overwhelming waves the more time he spends away from you. even at work, with the restaurant being less than a few blocks away, he’ll beg you to come for lunch just to sit with him on his break so he can enjoy your company. it’s almost become the punchline of a joke among the restaurant— nahoya spitting taunts and teases every time you slip through the door and show yourself to the bar, and souya grumbling to himself each time like clockwork until he sees your smiling face waiting just for him.
but even so, souya is still clingy. he still finds himself yearning to be home, where he can lose himself in the comfort of your arms with the murmur of the tv drowning out the noise in his head. he still finds himself desperate for your touch, never able to fulfill the desire to be closer and closer to you, until you have to peel him away from your body like a t-shirt.
but souya doesn’t move.
he doesn’t move, even when you peek past the strands of hair shading his eyes and poke the side of his face with inquisition. his eyes stay shut, body only shifting every so often as he melts into the sofa and gives himself up to his sleep.
and now, you’re bored.
you find yourself passing the time with his hair tangled in your fingers, leaving tiny braids sprinkled across his locks built from boredom and idle hands. he’s always found your touch soothing— lulling him nearly to sleep as you gently comb through strands of curls, breaking them apart into a frizzy messes the more he relaxes against your chest. he mumbles under his breath every so often, enough to make you part his hair once again to make sure he hasn’t woken up. but each time, his eyelids only flutter, and his face twitches as the strands of hair tickle his skin, and each time you can only sigh, and give in to your boredom by admiring the sweetness of his rest instead.
angelic isn’t ethereal enough to describe the aura that surrounds souya like this, though it’s enough to make you want to corrupt him all the same. it seems the longer you stare at him— the longer you watch his eyes flicker and twitch as he dozes, the further your hand travels down his body. it starts at his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his breaths, trailing down his torso and dancing between his abs until your fingers reach the waistband of his shorts and they can’t help but slip beneath it as his breaths grow more erratic by the second.
you watch his brows furrow as your fingers wrap around his cock. he’s asleep, you think, but he’s already hard and twitching in your grasp. you can’t help but think about the tiny moans that might slip from his lips if you moved just a little faster— the tiny desperate gasps that make him tremble the more and more you work him, and your head starts to spin at the thought alone.
there’s a heat that pools in your core now, one that you can’t deny as you press your thighs together and squeeze your palm around his cock. souya stirs only for a second, shifting slightly in his sleep as you take his shift of weight as your opportunity to climb onto his lap from beside him. you don’t give his body time to process as you slip his shorts to his thighs, exposing his aching cock to your body as you grind yourself down against him.
his eyes stay shut, but whether he’s awake or not you couldn’t care less. the warmth of his cock spreads across your skin like wildfire, and resistance has never been your best quality.
“fuck” you curse, as you sink yourself down on his cock that twitches and throbs inside you the more he stretches your walls.
you can’t help but dig your nails into his chest as you ease yourself all the way down, letting your hips stutter and tremble as his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside you. watching his eyelids flutter and move as you roll your hips is reward enough— but you cant help that you want more.
the deeper your nails dig, the more you move, hips rolling against him as you try your best to move at a pace soft enough not to wake him, but deep enough to stack the tension at your core.
but souya just feels too good. his cock presses against your sweet spot just enough to leave you desperate for more. satisfying yourself has never been a problem, but there’s nothing you want more than to feel his desperation fill you up as you push him to his limits beneath you.
you can’t help it— it’s just not enough.
“s-souya” you whine, catching the moan that follows between your lips as you press your forehead against his. your lips hover over him as your arms wrap around his neck, pushing him deeper inside you until he can’t help but lazily open his eyes as your cunt clenches around his cock.
“h-hi baby” he whispers, taking a second to grasp his surroundings as his eyes scan your body on top of him.
the realization hits as fast as his pleasure does, and the hair shading his face masks his eyes that nearly roll back in his head as his hands grip your hips in an attempt to stabilize himself.
“fuck I—” he stutters, trying his best to hold back moans that slip out in tiny broken hums.
you stop him before he can finish, lips pressed against his in a messy kiss that makes his hips buck the more you steal his breath away.
“please…” you whisper, with desperation tinting your voice as your eyes speak the rest of your begs for you.
souya knows what you want— he doesn’t need you to say it, and he cant help but dig his nails into your hips as he fucks himself up into you. bliss coats your body the harder he fucks you— it overwhelms you and collapses your body against him as the drag of his cock pulls moans and whimpers from your mouth with every thrust.
he can’t hold himself back when the pulse of your cunt sucks him in deeper and deeper til he can barely move. there’s a low groan that resonates in his chest as his hips slow, rolling your body against him in deep motions as he collects himself and tries his best to keep it together.
“can’t— c-can’t move if y’keep doin’ that princess” he whispers, voice nearly breaking as he throws his head back and lifts your body just enough for you to whine at the emptiness of your cunt with his cock teasing your clit. “p-please baby I—”
“wanna cum” you cut him off with a whimper, pouting as he stares back at you with glossy eyes.
your words are enough to ignite a fire in his chest, and desperation floods his body as he slams your body down on his cock with a force you’ve never quite felt from him before.
your eyes go wide with shock— the pressure of his cock inside you, the speed that his hips thrust up into you, it’s all too much. your head spins the faster and faster he moves, frantically reaching for your high as he pushes you closer and closer while whimpers and moans fall from his lips and dissipate into the air between you. your grip on reality starts to slip, and all you can do is beg for him—beg for his cock as he fucks you with everything he’s got, until your body starts to crumble in his grip and your vision clouds as his cock tips you over the edge of your pleasure.
souya whimpers as your cunt clenches around him tighter and tighter with every sob you manage to choke out. you’ve never felt like this before— so out of control, so overwhelmed by your senses and the press of his cock against your sweet spot even after you’ve collapsed into a whimpering mess against his chest. your body trembles in his grasp, and all you can do is beg to feel his cum inside you.
“need’ta—” you stutter, catching your breath in deep gasps as he slows his hips in a sensual rhythm. “need you t’fill me up souya, please”
your voice is desperate, and souya can’t deny the ache in his cock as your body squeezes around his length. one hand reaches for the side of your face, bringing you down against his lips as he loses himself in another kiss. his hips move a little faster, feeling every inch of your cunt he can before breaking the kiss with a moan as his cock fills you up with his cum that oozes and spills down your walls as he holds you steady in place.
“y-you feel s-so good baby” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut as he basks in the sounds of your moans.
you shift your body as his cum drips to your thigh, but souya only whines and holds you down tighter.
“jus’ stay for a little longer” souya pouts, pulling you flush against his chest again.
his hands clasp behind your back— tight enough that you can barely move, and his lips brush against the side of your neck as he peppers tiny kisses across your skin. you can’t help but giggle— the sensation is enough to spread a softness across your body that makes you melt against him, and your shoulders ease as his hands travel to the back of your neck where he holds you tight.
“I l-love you” he mumbles against your neck, pausing to trace patterns into your skin with his fingers before releasing his hold on you so you can move. “lets get you cleaned up”
you can only sigh as his hands fall to his sides, and the phantom comfort of his hold makes you yearn for more. and as you shift your thoughts back to reality, you can’t help but think you’ve never been so grateful to be by his side.
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miekasa · 4 years ago
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1+1 (levi ackerman)
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↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader
↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it
↯ word count: 2.5k
↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).
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i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.
Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.
Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.
Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.
“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.
“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”
You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.
“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.
Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.
“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”
You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”
He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.
Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.
You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.
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ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.
Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.
You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.
One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.
Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.
Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.
He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.
Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.
Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.
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iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.
“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”
If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.
He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”
“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.
Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.
After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”
“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.
“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”
It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.
“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”
Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.
“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”
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iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.
Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.
Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.
Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now. 
Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.
And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.
So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.
“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.
Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”
Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”
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v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.
Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.
You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.
“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.
Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.
Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.
So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.
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savnofilter · 3 years ago
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In My Dreams
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       Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x [FEM]Reader
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CONTENT WARNING(S): suggestive content, shifty hands, aphrodisiacs, wet dream.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k [6 mins].
I/B: one.
READ MORE: masterlist + [students masterlist]
A/N: surprise! this was written for @peachiimilquetea ! new bab i met recently (nearing a year now... 🧍🏽‍♀️)! im the anon about merman!tamaki from long ago. 🌝 consider this a present as well for reaching so many milestones already! ive been really fascinated with creepy things so naturally, i jump for the opportunity to write something with that and tamaki. also part two is in store,, 'nyways, please enjoy!! <33
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It was another dream.
In between dream and consciousness, you felt the sand on your skin. Even though you can't recall falling asleep, everything seemed so surreal. 
Sitting up, you dust off your hair and move your fingers to remove the excess sand from your white and loose clothes. While your brain was on autopilot, you decided to carry out your normal routine. 
On half-numb feet, you carefully stood up and checked whether your soles touched the ground, the result somewhat accurate. You opened and closed your mouth to test if you had enough cognitive functions to let you do so, speaking senseless vowels to help adjust the tone of your voice. You observed your hands and arms. The wiggle of your toes. You even peeked to see under your clothes if… everything was intact. Once you knew that it was correct, your checkup was just in time for the melody in the air to start playing.
You glanced around to check your surroundings and noticed that you were on the same beach that you have been appearing on for about a month now. It would've been comforting if your dreams had taken place in different locations, but that wasn't the case. You often landed at the same beach in each dream—the same beach that was far away from your home.
The song had a hypnotic rhythm to it. Your attention was drawn to the subtle and soft sounds of the moving ocean at its tides, the singing of what you assumed was the same creature that had been courting you for quite some time. Similarly, the same beat complemented the melodramatic crashing of waves on sand and rocks. The same beat that lured you in each time. As if your feet had a mind of their own, they started to move just like they had every other visit here. As you were guided to walk closer and closer to the water, it wasn't long until your body slowly started to disappear under the water's surface. Had this been real-life you would've freaked out or worried over oxygen—but this was routine. 
At this point, your body was fully submerged under water. You're not sure how you could keep your breath under water and you were sure it was the creature's doing. All these months, you had followed your feet along the ocean floors to the same illuminated den. In spite of knowing deep down that time didn't matter here, the walk always seemed to take just a few seconds. 
Before you knew it you were standing in front of the cave-shaped home, no creature in sight. Although there was no one (to your knowledge), you could faintly make out the cozy and familiar lighting of the inside. The average-sized-circle windows did wonders and you were starting to love them more each time you visited here. 
As if the spell that lured you here worked on a timer, the hold that he had on your body vanished. It took you a moment to realize when your body relaxed almost instantly. You flailed your limbs around to catch yourself from falling, eyes widened with a set feeling of small panic. You take a deep breath when you do manage to keep up and smile softly to yourself. 
‘that was a close one.’ you thought to yourself. 
You tested your swimming abilities and managed to get yourself back up. Your attention is turned back to the house that he normally had you stay in and do… many things in. You swam to the door—although not that far away from where you stood—and knocked on his door. There was no answer much to your surprise. You were sure this was part of your routine: knocking on the door and greeting him. 
You hesitated upon entering.  The door moved to an ajar opening, the warm light from inside now hitting your face. Sure, every time you came down here he never denied you entrance, but doing so by yourself felt wrong. Would he be angry if you entered? It wasn't like he was hiding anything. Subconsciously you knew you were underwater, your languid movements helped support the idea but everything looked and felt like air. If you were on your toes, you would've swayed in your stance as you pondered. 
‘fuck it’ You thought to yourself as you stepped in and looked around. 
It was the same cluttered space as before. There were pots and books sprawled about, jars of miscellaneous items your human brain couldn't comprehend, and many other doors that led elsewhere as far as the crooked hallway allowed you to see. Don't get him wrong though; amid all the clutter, his humble abode was still in shape. Organized, even.
You soon decided to walk in more, taking in the place in wonder. A glowing light on a table caught your eyes as you walked further into his home. Unlike all the other objects, you could tell this was a needle. A nice and shiny one at that. Sticking true to your human nature of ignorance, you reached out and touched the very sharp tip to it.
Your blood came out in a liquid mist, the idea that you were under water resurfacing. Surprisingly there wasn't any pain upon touching it. You turned your palm over to look at the small cut on your finger tip. You tilted your head to the side as your hand no longer represented itself as one but faintly three other versions of itself as well. Not only was the confusion starting to get to your head, an overwhelming feeling was starting to fill your body. And whatever was in that needle wasn't helping you understand your surroundings any better. 
You took a shaky breath. You could feel the blood in your system start to rush up to your cheeks and the spot between your legs started to pulse with tension. The heat was running through your body and moving was proving to be hard. Your eyes shifted around the open area again as you tried to look for somewhere to lay down, seemingly not wanting to take the dainty lounging sofa in the open area.
You stumbled to find your way further into his cave, following the carvings and grooves in the wall that you've become familiar with. You bared left to find the door you were looking for. The door swung open as one could underwater and your breath hitched upon who was in the room already. 
The dark haired male froze as you barged into his room, face riddled in concern. "Y-Y/N?" He quickly swam up to you as he looked you over. 
You had no memory whatsoever disclosing your name to this creature, but the way he said it always gave a buzz in your stomach. Your pupils could've been in the shape of hearts at how much you've grown to adore this man. You stumbled your way into his hold and started to pepper his face in drunken kisses. 
The merman was confused by your overjoyed arousal tonight, your attitude much more needy than usual. He opened his mouth to question you again, only to catch a whiff of your scent. 
“Did you—did you touch the needle?” He asked in haste. You nodded as you pressed yourself on to him. Your eyes focused on his face, looking past the look on his and only focusing on the attractiveness of his features.
“Yeah.” 
The heat of arousal was burning at your body and you needed him now. Any other time you would’ve been worried about this wondrous desire but nothing made you feel more ready than ever to take him. He felt his heart skip a beat as you leaned in closer, your lips only but a few centimeters away from his. 
“Please, I need you.” You mumbled against his lips. Without waiting any further you finally pressed your lips firmly against his. Your hands cupped his jaw as your mouth worked against his. He was caught off guard but like muscle memory, he reciprocated as you two fiend for one another. 
His hands moved to gently push you, the water slowing your fall to a cushioned fall on his bed. This whole experience felt psychedelic with how much everything swayed around you. He looked more than magical looking at you with his beautiful hair moving with the gentle waves of the ocean waves. You were entranced by his beauty and you weren't sure why you hadn't noticed how flawless his features were. In the midst of your admiration, you noticed something was off. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you couldn't feel anything, your throat starting to close up as you felt as though you couldn't talk. You watched as his hands on your body gave you no feeling resonated in response. He moved to whisper in your ear, but you couldn't hear anything. 
Your eyes started to droop closed as an unknown weight started to tug at your lids. Your hands struggled to hold onto him as you could feel your consciousness start to slip away, not wanting to lose your body in a moment like this. Against your wishes, your body was fully numb until after a few moments. 
You shifted in your bed as your body settled in your familiar bed. You clenched your eyes as you tried to remember the feeling from before, your mind desperately trying to chase the memory from before. You squeezed your thighs together as you tried to stimulate your loins to no use.
It was as if one moment you were in the scenario of underwater sexcapades and the next you were in your room. Your walls twitched in need, wanting to feel what you missed out on. An annoyed huff left your chest as you were too tired to even grunt in despair. You couldn't help but peek open your eyes as the light started to shine into your room, the sun rising signifying how much time had passed from when you were down there by the sea. 
You wanted to feel him. Hear him. Smell his scent. You could almost cry at how much you craved him. Unlike your other dreams, this last one left you high and dry. 
If only there was a way to experience it again…
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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago
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im down bad for the obey me brothers... idk if you write straight up nsfw, but if you do could i maybe get mc asking the brothers to finger her until she cums 👉🏻👈🏻 i saw someone ask this on another blog and ive been obsessed with this idea ever since. thank you in advance!
Just made it under the wire for Sexual Sunday!!!
Obey Me Boys + Naughty MC Headcanons (NSFW)
Lucifer
Startled initially, but delighted with your boldness
“You need only ask, my dear one.”
Would have you sit on his lap in his study where you asked him
No one is going to bother you in there because no one, besides you, would dare enter on their own
Once you’re settled he’d pull one glove off his hand with his teeth
His other hand is currently wrapped around your waist
Despite being gloved all the time, his touch is cool on your outer thigh
It slowly moved up your leg and under your uniform skirt
Moving to your inner thigh only when it was under the thin pleaded material
He’d gently urge your legs open, and start to stroke you
On the outside of your panties at first. Feeling them get moist
Then, when you were whimpering on his kneed, he’d slip his fingers past your panties and inside you
His touch is decisive and firm
Well practiced, he has you cumming in seconds or hours
Depends on his mood that day
Does not need you to reciprocate. He’ll get his eventually. Right now is about you
Mammon
Shocked, at first, but quickly tries to recover and act cool
“Ha. Of course you would come to The Great Mammon, and your first man, to take care of you doll.”
Would take you to his room; and be immediately embarrassed at the state it’s in
He wasn’t expecting company
He lays you down on the bed, nestled in his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets, and starts with a soft kiss.
He’d groan audibly when he pulled up your RAD skirt to see you wearing the designer underwear he bought you
Just for him
He’d keep them on and slip his hand down you panties
His touch is shy, at first
He wants to make sure he’s doing it right, what you like
When he starts to hear you moan and feel you buck up into his hand, he gets more confident
Mammon can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. So it’s no different in bed
Whispers a lot of “you like that baby?”, “does that feel good?��, “you look so hot baby.” in your ear
When you do cum he feels very proud of himself
He’ll lay next to you and kiss you softly
Will ask you to return the favor cause he’s super hard now
Levi
Immediate panic attack
“W-W-Whaaaattt??!”
Doesn’t believe you, at first. Why would you want a gross otaku like him to do....that to you??
Once you convince him that you’re telling him the truth, then you have to convince him to actually do it
He’s red as a tomato
You’d have to go to your room because Levi can’t do it in front of his figurines
He doesn’t want them to see him being all ecchi
Tries to undress you, but his hands shake too much
You’ll have to take your panties, and whatever else, off yourself
Once you’ve reached the point of no return, he’ll screw his courage to the sticking place and go for it
You’re his precious Hime-sama. He’d do anything for you
Despite his nerves, he’s really good at this
All those hours of gaming have given his fingers incredibly dexterity
No one is more surprised than you when he has you cumming so face
Still super shocked that he did this with you, but also a little proud of himself
Wouldn’t dream of asking you to do anything for him. He’d die of embarrassment if he had to ask
Satan
Surprised to say the least, but attempts to remain calm
“Well if....that’s what you want....”
Would take you back to his room for privacy
Would need to clear off his bed of the dozen or so books on it, but would set you down carefully on the comforter
He’s a little nervous
He’s usually not a sexually person (like some idiots he could name)
But something about you lights a fire in him
It’s strange to be burning up inside with something other than anger
His touch is deliberate and sound
You’ve asked him to make you cum. And cum you shall.
He doesn’t pussy-foot around and gets right to the task of fondling you
His fingers stroking your clit. Jutting in and out of you rhythmically
He won’t admit how much it turns him on to hear you say his name, but he’ll ask you to say it again
Calls you his ‘little kitten’ when he asks if you’re going to come
When you do his chest swells with pride. Let’s see those idiots do that to you
Would be interested in reciprocation, but won’t ask for it. If you offer, he’d be willing. A gentleman doesn’t do favors for reward though.
Asmo
Delighted beyond measure
“Ah~! My sweet [Y/N]! How naughty!”
Asmo, of course, is the most eager to please you
You coming to him openly for pleasure is a rare treat
One he’s going to take advantage of
He’d take you to his room and lay you on his bed like the princess you are
Takes his time getting you out of your RAD uniform
He doesn’t want your clothes wrinkled. Plus he wants to see all of you.
Will kiss and tease any patch of skin he can get his hands on
As he said, this is a rare treat. He’s going to take advantage of it
His touch on your apex is as teasing as his kisses
They are infuriatingly light. But he knows what he’s doing
Asmo is obviously the most experienced
So he knows how to give his partner mind shattering orgasms
Will tease and taught and tempt you until your body bows off the bed and you’re practically gushing around his fingers
Would want you to reciprocate, or let him fuck you. Let’s both feel good together.
Beel
Turns about as red as his hair when you ask him.
"S-Sure. If you want.”
Would want to go it in your room. He doesn’t want Belphie to walk in on you two
Nervous
He’s not the most experienced out of the bunch
Until now, he’s only ever thought about eating, or working out, or his brothers
Not until you
Would let you lay yourself on the bed and cover over to you
He’s scared about crushing you
His touch is a bit clunky
His hands are big and rough, and he doesn’t know what to do with them
But, he’s earnest
He genuinely wants to make you feel good so he tries his hardest
Asks a lot of questions like “am I going this right?”, “does this feel good?”, “is this ok?” to make sure he’s doing it right
When you cum, he licks his fingers. Fascinated with what you taste like. You’re his new favorite flavor
Doesn’t ask you to reciprocate. Too embarrassed to ask. Just wants to hold you. That makes him feel good.
Belphie
Slow, sleepy blink followed by slow, sleepy grin
“Eeeeh...[Y/N]-chan. You’re a pervert.”
Would take you up to his attic room so you can be alone
There’s a sky light with stars that’s really romantic
He wants you to see stars before you see stars
Nuzzles you in bed to breath in your scent
He loves the way you smell
Takes off your uniform top and panties, but leaves your bra and skirt on
He likes your skirt. And you look sluttier half naked than fully naked
Will get right down to business on you
Touching you roughly to pull an orgasm out of you
But he doesn’t stop there
He’ll pull another. Then another. Until once where you were begging him to make you cum now you’re begging him to stop.
He thinks your whimpers, teetering between pleasure & pain, are so adorable
So is your puffy, swollen cunt
Won’t ask you to reciprocate. He’s already got off on your weak, gentle crying. Will hold you and snuggle you for the rest of the night.
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alltoolewis · 3 years ago
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30 with lando pls
"Ride me."- Lando Norris.
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Summary- you and lando celebrate his highest placing poduim after you comfort his nerves before the Italian grand prix....
Words- 1808...
(Warnings- Alot of fluff & smut! 18+! You've been warned!)
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You couldn't believe how quickly it all flew by. It felt like just yesterday when you met him... you the new photographer for McLaren, who didn't have a clue about F1, moving away from everything you knew to travel round the world taking pictures of cars worth more than your credit card & him, the new rookie, who had so much confidence on the track but who had near to none when it came to speaking to women... until you came along & And now here you were... 3 years later, moved in together, traveling the world doing the thing both of you loved & what a better way than doing that together.
----
Your hands trembled just looking at him pacing the room,you could tell he was nervous.. I mean who wouldn't be, starting P3 in one of the most anticipated races of the calendar....
"Baby your making me dizzy" you giggled,slowly making your way over to him as he reaches for your clammy hand.
"Im sorry" he sighed, leaning into your touch as you pulled him closer "just nervous... I mean with all the pressure of me and danny starting up the grid & McLaren not having the season they hoped for, its just getting to me.. and you-" stopping himself, he looked deep into your eyes and for the first time you could see the panic and fear glossing his eyes like smoke...
"Im what baby?" You whispered, gently tracing your fingers though his newly combed locks, an action that you knew relaxed him...
"Your here..."
Confusion washed over you gently let go of him, taking a step back to watch his new fear wash over him..
"I can stay back here lando... if I'm the one making you nervous... I'm sure they wont mind me sitting out on this one, they have so many talented photographers, they won't miss m-"
Put of nowhere lando pulled you closer, locking your lips with his, taking all the unnecessary words out of your mouth.
"I'll miss you" lando mumbled against your lips, before pulling away pushing your forehead against yours...
"Your not the issue baby.. its just I know how dangerous this track is & I just don't want you to see anything that you shouldn't.... I couldn't cope with mysel-"
This time is was you to interrupt him, lifting up his chin to meet your.
"Lando I know the drill.... its not my first rodeo baby, every race is a dangerous one... I knew what I signed up for the minute I started falling in love with you & guess what... I dont regret one bit & you know why...?"
"Why?" He whispered, voice full of uncertainty.
"Because you.." you sighed, locking your lips with him again "are the best driver on that grid and you I've never been more proud of anything or anyone in my life.... your gonna be okay... and im gonna be right there for here for you, together forever eh?" You say, smirking as you see his face light up at your words, reaching out for your outstretched hand, locking your fingers as he repeated your words..
"Together forever"...
--------------
"How many more laps left??" You sighed, hands beginning to tremble as you looked at the monitor, lando dropping down to 6th after his pit.
"26" zac sighed as he sat next you, placing a hand on your knee "hes doing well you know.... he a supers-"
However zak never got to finish his praise as gasps fill the garage, looking up to see Max's car ontop of Lewis's. Heart skipping a beat as you realised just how close it was to being lando...
"I have to go- I... what if it was him.. he was so close to them he was only a second away... what if" you whispered all the possible scenerios as tear filled your eyes, causing zac to pull you closer...
"Listen... you can't live your life with what ifs (y/n).. it could of been him but guess what it wasn't andd look where he is know!" He smiles looking up at the monitor just as lando overtakes Charles, reaching p2.
"I mean you could leave... but Together forever I heard?" Zac smirks as he places a headset on your knee as he gets up to get back to his place... "just in case you want to pop in and check up on him... you stresshead"
As the lap count increased, so did your heart rate, as you seen lando still at p2 with 1 lap to go and a 2 second gap between him and perez. Hands hesitating to pick up the headset that remained on your knee like a safety blanket. Only picking it up as the mclaren garage erupts in applause, not only has lando picked up his highest ever poduim but Daniel won!
'Lets fucking go lads' lando screeches as you place the headset on, zac giving you a little nod, letting you know you can talk to him.
"Baby" you whisper through the mic, voice trembling with pride and emotion.
"(Y/n)!!! We did it! We fucking did it!!" Lando screams as he makes his way to the last corner..
"We lando?!? I didn't do anything but hid behind zac the whole time" causing lando to chuckle before the set goes dead and the garage yet again erupts... letting you know the mclarens have parked up.
Lando was the first one out, immediately running over to zac and the rest of the team, and although you could tell he was ecstatic, apart of you knew that he was gonna be disappointed about not getting p1... but he's a team player & at the end of the day thats all that matters.
After the hugs from the team, it was your turn to be pulled into your sweaty boyfriends arms, in the biggest bear hug you've ever been given.
"I'm sooo proud of you baby" you whisper, running your hand through is wet locks. Tears welling your eyes for what felt like the 50th time today.
"I love you so much" he screamed, picking your feet of the ground as he twirled you around, so fast you would of sworn he would of got the fastest lap!
"And by the way" he smirks, locking your lips with his "theres no me without you...."
However your sweet moment was inturpted as you get rudely pulled away from eachother by a certain ecstatic Australian....
"Alright love birds, plenty of that later" grabbing lando by the shoulders, pushing him towards the poduims "continue that later please, me and loverboy here have a shoey to do"
Your heart melts as you hear landos laugh, even from 10 meters away, but nothing made your race more than seeing him mouth the words anyone would dream about hearing.....
"Cant wait too rip them clothes off".....
And by lord did he keep his promise, not even being able to close the door before your 'mclaren 4' tshirt was pulled from your body.
"Ive been dying to do this from the moment I crossed that line" lando groaned as he pushed against the wall, using all his last energy, locking his lips with yours. Tounges fighting for dominance as he unhooks your bra, throwing it carelessly across the room.
Before you knew it you thrown on the bed, just as carelessly as your long forgotten bra.
"How the fuck did I get this lucky" lando moaned as he hovers over your already shaken body, eyes gazing over your bare body, filling with not only with lust but love....
Sitting up you, you lock your lips again....
"I should be saying that too you.." you mumble against his mouth, flipping your body ontop of his as your hands trace down his bare chest.
"Ahh taking in charge I see" he smirks, throwing his arms at the back of his head, as your unbutton his belt, seeing his hard cock push against the poorly made cotton.
"Only the best for my champion" you whisper, pulling down the last layer before getting to work. Lips locking over the tip, as you look straight in his eyes, making sure he can see the collection of pre-come of your tounge as it traces on his tip.
"Fuck doll..." lando wheezed as your hand goes up and down his shaft, his hands pulling your hair back as you take him deeper down your throat. His groans filling the room as your eyes welled up for a different reason this time as you feel his tip against the back of your throat, however you didnt have time to enjoy your meal for any longer as he pulls you away. Leaning down, he latches your lips to his, moaning as he tastes himself on your tounge.
"Dont want to finish in your mouth"
Laying back down, throwing one of your legs over his waist causing you to straddle him....
"Ride me." He demands, and like the good girl you were you took no time to fulfill his needs. Pulling out a condom from under the pillow he wa layed on..
"Dont judge me.. i knew this was gonna happen"
Lando chuckled as you slipped the condom on him, positioning yourself before sinking on him, Causing both of your breaths to hitch...
"Fuck (y/n)... how the fuck are you still this tight after 3 years of fucking you" lando moaned as your hips start to rock against his waist, finding your familiar rhythm as his hands find your waist. The sound of skin slapping could only be heard, as you allowed him to fill you up.
"Fuck lando" you yell throwing your hand back as he places his hand on your clit, matching the rhythm of your hips "dont stop" you scream as he picks up the pace.
Using his free hand to continue guiding your hips on his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.
Moans filled the air, both of you knowing full well that the rest of the mclaren could hear your 'private celebration' however neither you seemed to care as your screams filled up the room.
"Im so close" you sigh as lando continues to meet your hips half way, leaning down to meet his lips.
"Me too baby... fuck me too"
Without out any more warnings, lando let go, feeling his seed fill up the condom that was still thrusting inside you.
"Come on baby let go" lando yelled, hand moving faster against your clit as he, attaches onto your sensitive tits. Something that he knew could bring you to cum hust on its own...
"Fuck!!!" You scream as the pleasure washes over you, collapsing on his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.
"I love you so much" he whispered as he pulled your swollen lips into one last kiss..
"I love you too lando" you whispered back, leaning back into his chest as he begins to comb his fingers through your hair, a action that after 3 years of love he knew would instantly put you to sleep... and like everything that boy does, he never fails...
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amoristt · 3 years ago
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Grazing the Fire | IV
well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3
reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!
story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!
Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions
want to support me? heres my kofi!
__________________________
“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 
A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.
Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 
Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 
For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 
But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 
It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.
But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.
“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”
“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 
You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.
“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 
You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 
“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”
“Oh fuck you.” 
You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 
“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 
His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”
“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”
Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”
Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 
“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.
The bed you two had shared.
You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 
“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.
Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”
He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 
Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 
He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 
How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.
“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 
“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”
If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  
“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”
With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 
-----------
In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 
Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 
You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 
But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 
“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 
You lowered your head. 
“Ah, how about, ___?”
You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 
Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”
Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-
“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”
You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”
“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”
The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 
“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 
The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 
As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  
They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.
The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.
‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 
Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’
Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 
‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’
A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’
His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’
Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 
Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 
“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”
You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”
“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.
Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 
After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 
Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?
Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.
“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.
“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”
“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”
“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”
“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”
“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”
“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”
Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 
No one believed you.
---------
With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 
Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.
You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.
As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.
Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’
You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.
The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 
You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?
Well, actually, there was one person.
Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 
In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 
No wonder he was so angry. 
“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”
You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...
“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”
“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 
“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”
“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 
“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 
“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”
You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 
“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”
“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”
“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”
“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”
Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 
“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.
“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”
“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 
“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”
“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”
Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”
“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”
“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”
“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.
You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”
He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”
“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”
“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”
“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.
“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”
“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 
Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo
You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.
Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”
“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.
“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”
That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.
It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”
Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 
“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.
Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”
“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”
He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.
What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 
You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”
He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”
Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 
Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 
“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”
You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”
Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 
“Right… Do you want a ride home?”
“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 
“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”
There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”
And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 
“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”
The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”
“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 
“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”
“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 
“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 
You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.
180 notes · View notes
in-ky · 3 years ago
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Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!
Savior - Negan Killer AU
Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol
A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words
"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.
"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.
"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."
"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."
"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.
"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.
"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.
There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.
"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.
"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.
"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.
"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."
"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.
"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.
~~~
"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.
"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."
"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.
"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."
"Do you kill everyone?"
"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.
"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.
"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"
"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.
"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.
"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."
"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."
"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.
"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."
"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"
~~~
Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.
"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.
"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.
"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."
"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."
"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.
"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"
"Sounds good."
~~~
I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.
Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.
Suddenly, my door opened.
"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"
"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.
"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"
"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"
"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.
"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"
"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.
"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.
"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.
"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.
"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."
"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.
"Yes, what, princess?"
"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.
We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.
"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.
"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.
"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.
"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.
"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"
"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.
"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.
"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.
"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."
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forever-rogue · 4 years ago
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congrats on the followers milestone! can i request
“You’re shaking.” from prompt list 3 with Javier Peña? ❤️
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Ask and you shall receive, my love 💕😌
Javier Peña x Fem!Reader; warnings: depictions of violence & angst
Javier Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
"Javier," you didn't even open your eyes as you reached out for him. You were buried in a cocoon of warm, plush blankets, resting on a pillow that smelled just like him. 
It was late - so late that it was early in the morning. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you listened to him continue to pace his bedroom. The window was wide open, letting in the soft sounds of the lightly falling rain, but it still wasn't enough to drown out the shuffling of his feet. His body was practically humming with nervous energy as he couldn't quite seem to calm down.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," you pouted as you sneaked a peek at him, finding him standing at the foot of the bed, shoulders slumped and hanging his head in...shame? Worry? Something was weighing heavy on him. 
He got like this sometimes; but you didn't blame him. While you didn't work for the DEA and weren't completely privy to every aspect of his job, you knew it was hardly rainbows and sunshine. But you never, ever pried, rather, you provided whatever he needed. Sometimes it was silence, a comforting touch as he pondered over his actions. Sometimes it was listening to him as he ranted and raved about his day. Sometimes it was providing a sounding board he posed different theories about anything and everything. 
But most importantly, it was you being you. He loved you more than life itself, and at the end of the day, getting to come home to you, to be yours, was more than he could have dreamed of. You were the reminder that for all the bad that was in the world, there was still some good. There was still a reason to hope, a reason to get up every morning and fight for the right thing. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around and looked at you, nothing but sorrow etched in his eyes. Those soft brown eyes were often filled with so much emotion, so many things all at once - honeyed and golden - and now? They were tired, empty- hollow. He exhaled slowly, a long shaky thing before he offered you a small nod.
You sat up and held your hand to him, beckoning for him to come closer. Javier stared at your outstretched hand for a moment before caving and giving you his own, much larger hand. Pulling him closer to you, he gave in and sat at the end of the bed.
"I love these hands," you whispered before bringing it to your lips and gently kissed his knuckles, "so strong and calloused, but still soft and tender under it all. One of the best parts of my day is getting to hold one of these hands - or to be held by them."
"Dulzura," it was the first time he had spoken since he'd arrived home. It had been late and you were already in bed. He'd barely alerted you to his presence, only announcing his arrival with a soft kiss to your forehead that had stirred you from your slumber.
"Javier," you reached over and touched his cheek before tracing over his features, "I love you, so much. I want you to always know that. You don't have to tell me what's going on,  but you know I will be here for you no matter what."
Almost as if a weight had been magically lifted from his shoulders, he let out a gentle sigh before closing his eyes and keening into your touch. You were the sun, despite the cold, dark embrace of the night, and he was lucky enough to be in your orbit.
"I love you," he whispered gruffly, his voice catching on each syllable. Before he could think twice about it, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, wanting to feel the sacred intimacy of your skin on his, "I will always protect you. Yeah?"
"Javier," you smiled softly before pressing your forehead against his, "I know that. You don't have to tell me what's on your mind, but if you want to, you know I'll listen. I'm not here to judge you; you think you're this monster, but I know you're not. You're a good man, despite what you think."
Javier made a small sound in his throat before gently laying you back down in your pile of blankets; they were soft - so soft - just like your heart. Instead of getting up to aimlessly pace around, he laid down next to you, facing you, as he slung an around your waist and tangled his legs with yours. Reaching over, you brushed a stray curl from his forehead before giving him a gentle kiss. The worry on his face eased up ever so slightly as you closed your eyes and pulled him against your chest before using him as your pillow.
It wasn't long before you were asleep again, delicately snoring in his arms as he tried to ground himself with your presence. But sleep still managed to evade him, and he laid there with a multitude of dark thoughts in his mind.
But at least you weren't one of them.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be a quick in and out of the small supermarket. Another long week had passed and you had wanted to surprise Javi with his favorites for dinner. 
It was all supposed to be so simple.
And now? 
You were lying against a mess of rubble and smoke, your ears ringing out of control as your vision grew hazy. Everything hurt, but you were alive - covered in blood, not all your own, as you tried to make sense of what happened. Abrasions and gashes liberally covered your body as you tried to wipe away the grime from your face.
All around you people were running around frantically, screaming and shouting. You didn't blame them; if you hadn't been so confused and taken aback by what happened you would have been the same. 
You pulled yourself up on shaking, trembling legs, and tried to navigate away from the ruin. Whatever type of bomb that had been used was enough for this building and the next, it had caused nothing but chaos. All you knew was that you wanted to get out. Out, out, out and into safety.
But before you could escape, you heard frenzied shouts of your name among the loud ringing and screams. You looked around and found Javier sprinting over to you.
He stopped as soon as he was in front of you, his hands finding your face as he looked you over. You didn't even realize you'd begun to cry until you felt his hand brush away some of the tears.
He was speaking - asking you questions but you didn't hear a word. His hands went to your shoulders as he tried to shake you and pull you back in reality but nothing worked. It was like you were watching a movie play out, but this wasn’t anything like that - this was a horrifying reality. The worst part? You were one of the lucky ones.
You were in such a daze that you shut down, finding yourself blankly staring back at him. Nothing but fear and worry clouded his expression as he tried to get you to say something - anything - back to him.
The last thing you remembered was him pulling you into his arms and turning away from the horrific scene.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The next time you woke up it was quiet. Almost too quiet and nothing met your ears the harsh ticking of the clock on the wall and the beeping of the several machines. A small groan left your lips as you slowly moved, trying to stretch your stiff limbs as you woke up. 
Rubbing at your heavy eyes, you frowned deeply when you saw all the contusions and lingering scratches on your hand.
Oh. It hadn’t been some sort of wicked dream or nightmare. 
Your throat was practically raw as you tried to swallow, screaming in pain. You quickly spied the pitcher of water and sad plastic cups on the table next to your bed, reaching for it hastily as you poured a cup and downed it in one go. It was warm and almost metallic; you wondered how long it had been there. How long you had been there. 
Studying the IV in your arms, along with other various implements, you sighed as you tried not to cry. Everything hurt, every fiber of your being felt like it was aching to the bone. Pulling back the thin, scratchy blanket, you realized your lower half didn’t look much better. Your legs were nothing but constellations of black and blue tinged with green. As if to test the waters, you moved each leg, flexing your feet and knees, as if just checking to make sure everything still worked. Just in case. Just because.
It hurt now, and no doubt for a long time, but you were alive. You were still breathing, taking in shallow breath after shallow painful breath. But you were still here. That’s what mattered.
You looked around for someone...anyone. But found no one. Your heart fell a little as you had half expected Javier to be there, or perhaps Steve, or maybe even Connie. But there was no one. Half tempted to get up and move around, or at least try, you refrained and hit the call button on the remote on your side instead. 
It was only a few moments before you heard footsteps approaching and a nurse poke in her head. Her face lit up when she noticed that you were awake and conscious, despite the sight for sore eyes that you currently were. 
“You’re awake,” she came over and looked at you, a hand going to your face as she brushed away a few tangled locks from your forehead, “a welcome surprise. How are you feeling?”
“Like death,” you admitted quietly, “but I’m here, and that’s...that’s the important part.”
“You survived a bombing.” she reminded you, “being here is the only thing right now. How’s the pain?”
“Just sore,” you admitted, not quite feeling the full effects just yet, “am I...anything permanent?”
“No,” she promised as you felt a wave of relief wash over you, “you got lucky. You’ll be back to normal eventually, right now you’ll need lots of rest - for your body and mind. We just want to keep you for a few more days to make sure there’s no infection with anything. You had a few good gashes on your legs and abdomen.”
“Okay,” you let out a stunted exhale as you realized that no matter what happened, you were in good hands and had been well taken care of. But that still didn’t solve the mystery of why you were alone, “there was a man that brought me in I’m sure...is he...here?”
“Javier?” she asked as you nodded lightly, “he had to leave on an emergency call. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he hasn’t left your side in days.”
“Days?” you tilted your head to the side in confusion, “how long have I been here?”
“Almost a week,” she gave a tight lipped smile, “go on and rest, and I’ll bring you something to eat. I’m sure he'll be back soon.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
But soon turned into hours and those hours stretched into the wee hours of the night, and eventually you fell back asleep. The amount of painkillers and fluids were enough to keep you drowsy and despite wanting to see Javier, you couldn’t stay awake. 
It had hurt your feelings a little - the fact that no one stopped in to see you. But you decided not to take it personally; work was probably insane at the moment.
Javier didn’t make an appearance until the next afternoon.
His tread was light as he hovered in the doorway, almost as if studying you to see if you were conscious. 
“Javi,” you beamed when you spotted him, slowly sitting up as best as you could. Your heart instantly felt better at the sight of your lover as he shuffled into the room. You’d expected him to be excited, to smile, to cry, to...something. But there was...nothing. You frowned as he came and stood at the side of your bed, “Javier? W-what’s wrong, mi amor?”
“Look at you,” he whispered softly after a few tense moments, reaching up and gingerly touching your cheek. You sighed and reached for his hand but he quickly flinched out of your grasp.
“It’s okay,” you promised softly, surprised by his recoil, “it looks bad now, but it will be better. They said nothing is permanent. I’ll be fine soon enough.”
“You were almost killed and you think this is fine?!” you had never heard him shout before, not like this, not in such anger. His nostrils flared as he ran a hand over his tired face, “you look terrible, you were barely conscious and then in a coma for a week. Nothing about this is fine!”
“Javi,” you had leaned away at the sound of yelling, confused and hurt by his harsh response, “I’m alive, okay? That’s what matters. The rest will get better -”
“What about all the people that it won’t get better for?” he sighed as he turned around for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling heavily, “what if it had been you? If something worse had happened to you, I would never be able to live with myself.”
“But it didn’t,” you whispered, “and I know it’s hard to accept right now, but I am okay and it will get better and this isn’t your fault. Please, Javier, calm down, my love, you’re shaking…”
“This was because of me,” he turned around, an emotionless mask on his face, “don’t you understand that? This happened to you because you know me...because you’re with me.”
“Javier-”
“I couldn’t even protect you,” he hung his head with a bitter laugh, “I promised I would always protect you, and I couldn’t even do that much. What if...I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this every day knowing how easy it is for them to get to you. I won’t have anything happen to you just because you’re mine - because of me.”
“You didn’t….” you paused and tried to reach for him, holding out your hand and offering it to him as you had done countless times before. Except this time...he didn’t take it, “Javier. I know this was bad, and I know that it wasn’t your fault. You did protect me - if you hadn’t gotten me here in time, or came to me, it could have been so much worse. I’m not...I know the risks of your job, Javi, but it doesn’t scare me. Not away from you….I love you.”
“I know,” he answered gruffly, “I know you do. Despite the fact that I’m a bad man that does bad things. And I love you too. That’s why I have to do this….”
“Do what?” you asked as your heart plummeted into your stomach at the tone of his words. This wasn’t good - no this..was very bad, “Javier? What’s...what’s going on?”
“As soon as you’re well enough to travel, you’re going home,” he didn’t even look at you as your mouth dropped in horror and confusion, “you’re getting on the first plane back to the states. And you’re never setting foot back in Colombia.”
“Javier,” your voice cracked as he refused to meet your eyes, “you can’t just do that. You can’t-”
“I have and I will,” he answered gruffly, “it’s been taken care of. The DEA will set you up with a new place and help you find a new job. Please...just don’t argue with me. Just…”
“You can’t do this,” you were crying now, as your whole world crumbled around you and Javier started to walk away, refusing to look at you again, “please...please don’t do this. Please don’t make me leave. Don’t - don’t...walk away. Javier, I love you, and I want to be here with you. I don’t care about anything else!”
“I know, Dulzura,” he whispered as he paused in the doorway, his back still to you, “I love you more than you will ever know. That’s why this has to be done. Please just...do this one thing. For me.”
“Javier...don’t walk away,” you were begging him, your chest tightening in constricting as it got harder and harder to breathe, “p-p-please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me - not like this. Please.”
“I am sorry,” he promised gently, “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. But I do love you, truly, that’s why I have to do this. You will thank me one day.”
“Javier,” he turned and walked out of the small room, pausing for just a moment before he exhaled shakily and walked away. If you had seen him, you’d have seen the most heartbroken look on his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. But you didn’t; instead you sat there, helpless and small as your vision grew warm and bleary with your own tears. 
You hid your face in your hands as you cried and cried and cried until you couldn’t anymore. No one came in, no one said anything, and he never came back. 
This was….it. A new life without your love. 
Empty, hollow, broken. Just like him - and now you. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago
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i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”
send a prompt + character from this list! 
pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader
warnings - stress?? mostly fluff 
a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!
Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.
Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.
To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.
Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.
Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.
Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.
Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.
You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.
You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.
“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.
“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”
You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 
“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.
Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.
“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”
You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.
“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.
“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.
You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.
“Are you okay-”
“Yes! I just don’t-”
“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”
“There’s nothing wrong-”
“Do you need to stay-”
“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.
Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.
“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
---
The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.
“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.
You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.
Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.
“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.
“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.
“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.
“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”
The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.
“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”
Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.
It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.
Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.
You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.
“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”
This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.
“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever
You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”
“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.
“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”
He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”
“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!
“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.
“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”
“I don’t want to hear it-”
“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.
“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!
“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”
“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.
You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.
You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.
“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”
You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.
---
permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings
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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago
Text
holly's august extravaganza day 26: slowly becoming lovers
for sonia (@pragmaticoptimist34)! i have to confess something - i got so caught up in writing this that i actually forgot to include either of the other two prompts you sent me 🙈 i hope you like it anyway!
second confession - it was supposed to be longer and then it kind of got away from me so i had to draw a line somewhere oops
thanks to @ravens-words, @cosmiicmalex, @halsteadmarchs and liz (sorry, i don't know your tumblr!) for enabling me and to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing!
ao3 | 2.9k | falling in love, fluff, tiny, tiny hint of hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, set between s1 and s2
Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.
But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.
i. food preferences
“You have to be joking.”
“It tastes like soap, Carlos!”
Carlos groans and drops his head into his hands, shaking his head at this latest revelation from his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has just made his life—or at least his cooking—a hell of a lot more complicated. “My mamá would have a fit if she could hear you now.”
He almost regrets the words as TK’s eyes alight with interest; he’s been dancing around the topic of his parents for a while now, but it’s not like he can deny what he said. His mom would be having a fit, or possibly attempting to kill TK with a wooden spoon, if she found out that Carlos’s boyfriend was not only a gringo, but one who hates coriander.
“I swear, you won’t even taste it when it’s mixed into the food,” he tries, because coriander is a staple of his cooking, and he can’t even fathom not using it.
But TK just levels him with a firm look. “Yes, I will, Carlos. I’ll always taste it.”
Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, but sighs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose I can—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as TK throws his arms around him and plants a noisy kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, babe,” he says, grinning cheekily.
“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos grumbles, but he can’t help but smile.
There’s very little, he’s finding, that he wouldn’t do for TK.
ii. nicknames
It slips out by accident one day.
“TK,” Carlos groans, followed by a gasp as TK moves just right, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “TK, Ty—”
TK instantly freezes on top of him and Carlos’s eyes open, concern rising in him as he takes in the pensive look on his boyfriend’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I…” TK shakes his head and forces a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m good, I promise.” He ducks down to kiss Carlos again, but the mood is all wrong, and Carlos gently pushes him back, raising an eyebrow. TK holds out a moment longer, then sighs and rolls away, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid.”
Carlos tuts, reaching over to brush a hand through TK’s hair. “Bet you $20 it’s not.”
“Hope you have $20 then, Reyes,” TK says wryly. He looks over at Carlos and sighs again, biting his lip. “It’s just… You called me Ty.”
“Oh.” Carlos’s eyes widen and he props himself up on an elbow. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking; it won’t happen again—”
TK presses a finger against his lips, cutting him off abruptly. He smiles softly, then removes his finger and caresses Carlos’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he says. “More than okay, actually. I… I’ve always hated my name, but, I don’t know, I guess it sounded right? Like, when you said it? I think I’d kill anyone else who tried, but I really liked it coming from you.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because—”
Carlos is again cut off, this time by TK’s lips on his. TK moves so that he’s straddling Carlos again, hands pressed against his chest. “I’m sure,” he whispers, a grin playing at his mouth. “Now, weren’t we in the middle of something?”
iii. religion
Christmas sneaks up on him that year. Between helping the city recovering from the solar storm, work in general, the pandemic, and building his relationship with TK, Carlos has completely lost track of the months, until it’s a week before the date and he has nothing planned.
Really, it’s never been a big deal for him; he and his family used to attend mass and make an event out of it when he was a kid, but now he’s an adult, he’s often working, and he hasn’t been to church regularly since he was a teenager. But this year is different. This year, he’ll be spending it with TK, their first Christmas together, and he wants to make it special.
But he’s left it too late—nothing he orders online will arrive in time, the shops are becoming a nightmare, and he honestly has no clue where to even start. So Carlos resigns himself to another quiet Christmas, frustration and disappointment welling in him at the thought of telling his boyfriend.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out one night over dinner, the thought having been gnawing at him for days.
TK raises a brow. “For?”
“Christmas,” Carlos sighs, looking down into his stew. “It’s our first one together and I had all these plans, and then I just sort of… I didn’t forget! But things have been so crazy, and—”
He’s cut off when TK lays a hand on his. When Carlos looks up at him, TK seems to be fighting back laughter, which is confusing at best and potentially mildly insulting at worst.
“Babe,” TK says, grinning, “it’s okay. You might not believe me, but I forgot too. Christmas wasn’t really a thing growing up—my mom’s Jewish, so I used to celebrate Hanukkah on the years I stayed with her, and Dad was working more often than not. I don’t care, I promise.”
Carlos blinks. “You’re Jewish?” Surely he would know if… But they’ve never discussed religion before, and Carlos had kind of assumed TK had the same ideals as him about the church. In hindsight that was stupid and presumptuous, and Carlos can’t quite believe he’d do something like that. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, but TK just shrugs, going back to his stew.
“Half,” he says. “I don’t really practice anymore but I still keep the beliefs with me, if that makes sense?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
TK smiles at him, and Carlos suddenly realises that this holiday season will be special after all, even if they don’t celebrate anything. Because he’s with TK, which is the most special thing in the world.
iv. how they sleep
Carlos has been sleeping alone for a long time. He’s had a couple of short-term boyfriends and the odd hook-up here and there, but he’s never had someone else in his bed regularly—certainly not regularly enough to get used to it.
TK was hesitant at first to stay over, but once he started to be more comfortable, it was almost a given that they’d be sleeping together whenever their shifts allowed.
And it had been an adjustment.
TK had warned him he tended to move around and be clingy in his sleep, but Carlos hadn’t quite understood what that meant, until now. He is, essentially, trapped under TK, his arms pinned to his sides and one leg thrown over his hip. TK’s head is pillowed on Carlos’s shoulder and his breath is fanning in soft puffs over his skin.
The only way he can move is if he wakes TK up, and there’s no way Carlos is going to do that. His boyfriend looks so peaceful, and Carlos is more than happy to be clung onto like a koala to a branch if it keeps that expression on his face.
In fact, he thinks he can get used to this very easily.
v. pda
In private, their days are filled with gentle touches and stolen kisses. Carlos will be cooking breakfast and TK will slip his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. TK will be doing one chore or another and Carlos will brush a hand over his back or gently nudge him as he walks past.
But in public, it’s a whole other story.
It’s almost reflexive, the way TK reaches for Carlos’s hand as they’re walking down the street. It’s something they do all the time at home, and even with their friends, but this time, Carlos immediately tenses, seemingly automatically pulling his hand away.
“You okay?” he asks, frowning.
Carlos takes a deep breath, then obviously plasters on a smile, retaking TK’s hand—and TK can feel the tension in the gesture. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” TK gently lets go of Carlos and smiles reassuringly up at him. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with touching in public.”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me; I should have asked.”
“But—”
“But, nothing.” He carefully bumps their soldiers together. “You’re entitled to your boundaries, I’m just sorry for overstepping. Tell me next time, please?”
Carlos hesitates, but nods, a gentle press of their arms a silent acknowledgment of agreement and understanding.
vi. scars
Carlos, TK has noticed, likes to pay extra attention to his bullet scar. Whether it’s pressing a gentle kiss over it when they’re in bed, or brushing it with his fingers when wrapping an arm around him, it happens too often for TK to believe it’s anything but intentional.
He doesn’t understand it at first.
Then he discovers Carlos’s own scars.
“What’s this?” he asks, tracing over the thick raised scarring on Carlos’s side. It stretches along the curve of his waist and round his back, and TK has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before.
Carlos cranes his neck, letting out a hum when he sees what TK’s looking at. His head flops back down on the pillow and he closes his eyes, absently stroking up and down TK’s sides.
“It was...three years ago, maybe?” he says. “I got stabbed on a call. They told me it was pretty touch-and-go for a while, but they fixed me up and I was back at work in a month.”
His eyes are still closed, body completely relaxed, but TK can’t take his eyes off the scar. He reaches up to his own scar, and he gets it.
Carlos’s eyes crack open. “TK?”
“I’m good,” TK murmurs. He breaks his gaze from Carlos’s abdomen and smiles at him. “We both are.”
And if, after that day, Carlos notices him paying more attention to that scar, he doesn’t say anything.
vii. penguin or panda
“You’re out of your mind!”
In Carlos’s defence, a zoo date had seemed like a good idea. He knows TK loves animals, and he himself grew up around them, so in theory, a trip to Austin Zoo should have been the perfect time to get to know each other better while enjoying the day.
Turns out, TK has some very strong opinions on animals, and is willing to budge for absolutely no-one.
“I can’t believe you think penguins are cuter than pandas! I mean, look at them, Carlos!” He gestures emphatically to the panda enclosure, where one is napping on a log. It’s pretty cute, Carlos has to admit, but…
He shrugs. “But remember when the penguins were all huddling together?”
TK makes a noise of outrage, and Carlos has to laugh, then some more at the wounded pout he gets for it. “Is this really a thing for you?” he asks. “Like, is this going to be the dealbreaker for us?”
TK folds his arms and levels him with a stern look. “That depends,” he says. “Meerkats or koalas?”
And, just because he knows it will rile TK up more, Carlos grins and answers, “Meerkats.”
(They don’t break-up over it, but Carlos isn’t so sure that TK will be forgiving him any time soon.)
viii. special interests
“Say you could go back to a moment in history, but only once,” TK says, out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence of the front room. Carlos stops carding his fingers through TK’s hair and looks down at him, curious. “Where would you go?”
Carlos opens his mouth, but TK doesn’t give him a second to answer. “Is it cliché if I said I’d go to Stonewall? I mean, I’d really like to see dinosaurs in the flesh, or—oh! I was, like, obsessed with pirates as a kid; I thought they were the coolest things ever, and I pretty much idolised Anne Bonny. But I’m pretty sure I’d die immediately if I went to either of those places, so…”
He trails off, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m boring you.”
“No!” Carlos rushes to say. “No, you’re not. I love history, I just… What makes you ask?”
“It’s something we got into at the station earlier. Mateo brought it up first, I think?”
Carlos hums, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s too hard. There’s so many places I’d want to go and people I’d want to meet.”
“But if you had to pick?” TK pushes, sitting upright and looking at Carlos with interest.
“I really want to meet Eleanor of Aquitaine, but if I could only go to one place…” He hesitates and thinks it over some more, but then his eyes catch on the masks hanging along the stairway, and he’s sure. “Tenochtitlan, but before Cortés arrived. It was a whole society, and I just think it would be so cool to see it up close and to know what it was like first-hand. I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but we don’t have much from the Mexica people, a lot is from the conquerors, and—”
Carlos stops and huffs a laugh. “Now I’m the one boring you,” he says, but TK shakes his head, eyes bright.
“Tell me more.”
ix. coffee order
TK accepts the coffee without even thinking about it, even taking a sip before he realises he never told Carlos what his order was. He curses himself but resolves to drink it anyway; TK isn’t too much of a coffee snob, and he’s certainly not going to reject anything his boyfriend brings him.
He takes a second sip, and he’s so caught up in making a mental note to tell Carlos next time that it takes a minute for the taste to register. And…
It’s his order.
He looks sharply up at Carlos, who is smiling into his own coffee—therefore dispelling any notion of this being an insanely good guess. “How did you know?” he asks, bewildered.
The tips of Carlos’s ears turn pink, but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he looks up at TK. “Our first real date,” he says. “You mentioned that this was your go-to order.”
And TK can’t do anything but stare, because their first date was weeks ago, and Carlos still remembered, and it’s just…
He thinks—no, he knows—he’s falling in love.
x. fears
“Weirdest fears, go.”
TK has to laugh at the perplexed look Carlos sends him at the question, the straw of his boba hanging out of his mouth. Now that they’ve figured a sort of rhythm out between them, they decided to try the boba place again—there have been no emergencies or disasters so far, so TK is counting it as a win.
“Come on,” he continues. “Last time we were here, you said we barely knew each other—which was true—so now we’re going to fix it.”
Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “By telling each other our weirdest fears?”
“Exactly!” TK grins. “I’ll go first if you’re too chicken. Mine is slicing my hands open or cutting some fingers off with ice skates.”
“What?” Carlos breathes, disbelief all over his face. “I’ve never been ice skating but I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go anywhere near the blades.”
“I didn’t say it was rational.” TK sips his boba, raising an eyebrow at Carlos. “Your turn.”
Carlos swallows, suddenly very interested in the table. “I, uh. When I was a kid, my Tía Lucy had a snake get into her pipes. She only discovered it when she went to the toilet one morning and it was just...sitting there in the bowl. I was terrified for years that the same would happen to us, and it’s kind of become a reflex to check.”
“Oh my god.” TK can’t help but burst out laughing, even though he feels bad for it as Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a real thing for you, I just…”
But Carlos’s shoulders are shaking too and, bizarrely, TK really does feel closer to him now.
It’s a good feeling.
xi. long-term commitments
Carlos is surprised when TK is the one to bring it up first.
“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks one day, head in Carlos’s lap, staring up at the ceiling.
Carlos pauses the show he’s technically supposed to be watching and quirks an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Sure,” he says. “What about the future exactly?”
TK hesitates, and his voice comes out a lot quieter when he next speaks. “Like…” He sighs, a small flush rising on his cheeks. “The future. Our future. Us. Maybe...marriage, or…”
He trails off, practically whispering by the end of it. His gaze has shifted from the ceiling to the frozen TV screen and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, body stiff with tension. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Forget about it.”
But Carlos is learning to read TK, and he knows he was looking for reassurance. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “I think about it. Do you?”
TK stares up at him, wonder in his eyes. “After New York, I thought… But yeah. Yeah, I do.”
They share a smile as they lock eyes, and Carlos knows that they’re on the same page here. That, distant though they may be, both of them can hear wedding bells in their future.
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aboardthehavocmarauder · 4 years ago
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Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 7]
Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader
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Y/N sat alone in a clear field holding her knees close to her chest as she turns to see Obi Wan standing at a distance.
“Will I find something disappointing?”
“Painful”
“She can wake up at her own pace. She’ll be safe here. She said it herself. You can still take on hunts if you need to” Reylen reassures adjusting the lines for her IV and monitors so they wouldn’t be in the way. “Y/N always bounces back”
Y/N lays lifeless and pale as her chest slowly rises and falls. Hunter frowns running his index against her cold skin seeing the shift, flooding him with relief.
“We need the credits”
“You’re serious? Leaving her here”
“I trust her” Hunter turns to Reylen before back to his brothers. “And we should trust Y/N. She did lay her life down for us and we did the same. Her payment can be her recovery as we continue for ours.”
“Do you need—-“
“Don’t try to sit out Echo. We need all of us together, and watch each other’s backs so we can return safely” Hunter states stepping out of the room.
——
“You’re trusting me with this?”
“I need one to protect myself. And you have the skills to wield it. Protect yourself and your brothers while I’m out of commission”
“Y/N—“
“I’ll bounce back Hunt. Have faith in the force”
——
Six months later
Reylen stood in the empty field staring at Y/N laying in the grass from afar.
“NER VOD” my sister.
Y/N quickly shot up when the training droids did blocking most shots with the beskar arm bands running toward the forest and using the trees as her running ground getting higher and higher blocking every shot. Before eventually shooting her body out into the open feeling the wind course around her as she flips back feeling the wind in her hair reaching out feeling her lightsaber reach her. Gripping tightly, igniting it fast, she sliced into the tree sliding down before shooting through and cutting three of the training droids using the falling pieces as stepping stones in the air.
“Ke'pare!”
Wait!
As Reylen sprints through meeting Y/N as she stuck the landing quickly but didn’t feel the shot from the still standing training droid. She quickly took out a rag from her utility belt and applied it to Y/N’s upper arm.
“Sorry”
“No. Shit. You don’t have to apologize. I’m surprised you didn’t feel that” Reylen frowns tying it quickly and taking Y/N’s face into her hands. “What’s on your mind, vod?”
“I...”
“Tion'ad hukaat'kama?” Who’s watching your back? Reylen frowns as Y/N removed her hands off her face taking a hold of them in hers. “Y/N?”
“...I’m forgotten. Just like the council. I’ve been erased” Y/N pulls away taking her saber attaching it to her side before stepping into the bunker and seeing what she can do.
Cuy’val Dar
Those who no longer exist
When the night falls on the forest moon of Endor, Y/N held her saber to her chest taking in the night igniting it. She flows with the wind taking in each heated slash in the air to memory feeling a pain build in her chest. As she turns off the glowing gold, another light appears in the distance causing her to stand alert.
“Cyar’ika”
Y/N frowns relaxing when she locked eyes with an injured Hunter. She dropped her guard and quickly ran over taking him into her arms finding all of them hurt behind him.
They were hunted down. Their ship crashed on the moon planet but for obvious reasons, took them a while to find them.
“None of them have major injuries. They should be fine” Reylen reassures as Y/N ran her hand through Hunter’s hair while they were all too tired to keep awake. “They will be fine”
“Six months”
“What?”
“They were without me for six months”
“Y/N. This most likely would’ve still happened and you would’ve gotten hurt as well”
“Yes. But the damage would’ve been minimal”
“Y/N—-“
“You try falling for theses five and watching them kill themselves individuality because of your own actions. If Obi Wan finds nothing, they would’ve left for nothing”
“Leaving the republic was their decision. You didn’t influence it”
“But I did” Y/N frowns removing her hand from him. “I only do bring pain now don’t I?”
“No” Reylen frowns. “You do not. Why would you say that? Your past was unpredictable. You went through a lot. They went through a lot. Both individuality and then together. That’s how love works. As sick as it is to suffer. Together makes everything hurt much less”
“But I wasn’t there for any of them” Y/N frowns feeling the pain in her head return making her leave the medical suite as Reylen sighs sitting beside Tech’s bed and taking his datapad for a second.
Entry 235
I didn’t want to leave her. None of us did. We were following Hunter’s orders...as he was following hers. I’m used to waking up around 0300 hours to record her nightmares. She told me her droid did it for her and she’d wake up on her own, but when I suggested that I’d do it. She’d let me sleep with her afterward instead of staying up for the rest of the night. It helped her. And it helped me. Now I’m simply awake that early and can’t find a reason to go back to sleep.
Entry 268
Crosshair almost hit a child. Again. Y/N would be so infuriated if she saw that happen. But not to excuse his behavior, the kid deserved it. Being told information about us that only tears one of us down without their knowledge, we all would’ve done something about it. Just. Not to a child.
Entry 301
Planning route to come back is difficult when the Havoc had undergone a lot of damage. Really could use our Y/N. I. Mechanic. I meant mechanic. Ugh.
Reylen sets his datapad back down before getting up to go after Y/N.
But once reaching the surface, Y/N had forced the Havoc Marauder over to the base. Reylen immediately opened the hatch to enter the underground hanger to help her.
“So you’re going to work on all of this?”
“I have your team of droids. They’ll help me. But yes”
“I read Tech’s data entries. They would’ve been here sooner if the Marauder wasn’t badly damaged”
Y/N gripped onto her shirt taking a deep breath before removing their cloak and getting to work.
Sometimes
Old habits never die
Echo was first to wake out of the five as he felt more exhausted even after the hit they took. He sat up on the bed seeing his brothers comfortably in their own and Reylen propped up at her desk asleep. He got up slowly keeping in mind of his injuries as he took his blanket and covered Reylen on his way out in search of Y/N.
Y/N continued to work on the Marauder before being pulled out from under thinking it was a droid.
“You fucking tin can I’m in the middle—“ She stopped talking when she locked eyes with Echo who had his anxiety written all over him. “Oh Echo...”
“Cyar’ika...” He frowns as Y/N urgently took him into her embrace feeling him grip onto her back slotting himself in her grasp. “I thought we...we weren’t going to make it in time”
“It’s okay Echo, you’re here now. I’m here”
“You are...fuck” He held onto her not letting ago any time soon...
Not like she wanted to
A few days went by and the batch was back on their feet and doing their recovery in Reylen’s home away from home. As long as Y/N stays around a little while longer, the batch is just as much her family as Y/N.
“OI. Fuck off”
“I need to check your injuries and make sure everything is clean. Please be patient or I’ll tase you” Reylen threats Cross as Y/N came in to get herself a bandage when she saw him not cooperating.
“Rey, I’ve got this one”
“Fucking—-Thank god” Reylen got up grabbing her datapad to go get orders shipped out and received.
Y/N pushes the stool over to Crosshair taking a seat.
“Doll face—“
“She has more medical training than I do. Can’t you listen to her every now and then?”
“Hey I don’t trust many people”
“Hmm. If you can trust me, you can trust her. She doesn’t have as big of a record than I do”
“Maybe that’s why I trust you, doll face” Crosshair gently caresses Y/N’s face watching her ease into such.
“Cross. If it gets infected, I will kill you” Y/N smiles making him laugh before sighing.
“Fine. I’ll let her look”
“No she has other plans. She is a busy woman. I’ll take care of it” Y/N laughs pulling away and getting the bandages including a stim pack.
Crosshair got up to follow her and before she could even react, he took her face into his hands and pressed his lips against hers. Y/N froze for a second, setting the stim down on the table before them grabbing at his blacks and pulling him close.
He’s wanted this for a while now
I knew she felt the same way
Taglist:
@xxeiraxx @fennign @meli-that-girl @Spp2011
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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago
Text
Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV
Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.
MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX
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Gif by: @uuuhshiny
Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.
It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.
One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.
Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.
Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.
That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.
Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.
That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.
Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.
Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.
“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”
“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”
“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”
“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”
And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.
I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.
The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.
He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.
Would that be so bad?
She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.
—————
“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”
Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.
Bad landing.
His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”
“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.
It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?
Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.
“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”
His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”
“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”
He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.
He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”
“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.
“No, you can’t think like that.”
“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”
“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.
“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“
“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"
“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”
The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”
The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.
“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”
“But if I don’t make it…”
“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”
“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”
—————
They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.
He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.
“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.
“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”
“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”
He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”
“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”
“But what if she wakes up?”
“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”
“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.
The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.
His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.
His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”
Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”
He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.
He presses a kiss to her nose.
My sun.
Her forehead.
My stars.
Her lips.
My whole sky.
—————
I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.
He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.
His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.
Would that be so bad?
“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.
He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.
“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”
I should’ve said no.
“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”
All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.
Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”
Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.
“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”
This man he almost has died for.
“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”
His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.
He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.
The money too.
None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.
The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.
I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.
He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.
Would that be so bad?
He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?
But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.
He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.
He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.
TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @princess76179 | @bbuckysbeardd | @notcookiebelle | @knivesareout | @empress-palpat1ne​
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niksixx · 4 years ago
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Close to Perfect
Requested: My idea 
Pairing: The Dirt!Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader 
Description: Your baby’s father doesn’t show up to the birth of your son, so Nikki takes his place. 
A/N: As always, your support is incredible. Reblog, comment, add tags <3 
Y/B/N: Your baby’s name
*Picture is NOT mine. Found on google. Credit to the owner.* 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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In a room filled with three other people that are comforting you and doing all they can to make you feel safe, you’ve never felt more alone and afraid. Sweat slicks every crevice of your body as you try to focus on the nurses hooking you up to machines and not the bone crushing contractions you’ve been feeling for an hour.
Your due date wasn’t quite near, but your baby boy wanted to make his appearance to the world a bit earlier. Your water had broke suddenly in the kitchen as you were preparing dinner, almost dropping the butter knife as the liquid trickled down your thighs. In a panic, you called the only person you could think of in that moment: Your son’s father.
As he chose not to be in your son’s life, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he refused to bring you to the hospital either. Begging and pleading as the contractions grew more frequent and painful did nothing but cause him to hang up the phone.
The only other option at that time was to call a cab, tipping generously at the end as the cab driver had to deal with your moans and whimpers from the backseat. Luckily there was a nurse with a wheelchair waiting for you at the entrance to the hospital.
As the nurses finish adjusting the IV, you wiggle around in the bed to try and find a comfortable position. A growl erupts from your belly, and instead of being graced with substance, you’re presented with ice chips.
While the contractions were growing more painful, you still weren’t fully dilated enough to start pushing. You opted for the epidural, promising to yourself that your next pregnancy would be all natural.
After the nurses left to wait on other patients, the solemn reality hit you. You were about to become a first time mother, and you were going to have to do it alone.
Calling your child’s father was useless. He’d never show up. He didn’t care enough about the life he helped create, and you refused to believe that you even needed him there. You could do this just fine on your own.
And then the epidural had worn off and as you reached ten centimeters dilation, it was time to finally push. But as the nurses and obstetrician were helping you adjust for labor, your cell phone chimed next to you.
With a stretch, you clicked the speaker, hoping to make the phone call quick as you were only minutes away from your first push. “Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N. You know that Def Leppard cutoff shirt I always wear?”
The doctor gives you a quizzical look. “Uh, Miss--.”
“Yeah, I do,” Trying to mask the groan of pain, you bite down hard on your lip. The intensity of the contractions is only growing stronger now, and you’re not sure how long you can last. “Listen, Nikki, now isn’t really a good time.”
“Wait, don’t hang up! I just need to know if I left it at your house last week. I can’t find it anywhere and Mick swears he didn’t steal it.”
Again, the doctor shoots you a look, one more annoyed this time. “Ma’am, we really need to--.”
“Nikki, I’m literally in the hospital about to give birth. Can the shirt wait?”
There’s a sharp breath on the other end after a long pause. Aside from your baby’s father, Nikki was the first person who had known about your pregnancy. You’d grown up together, and even visited Nikki and his band a few times while they were busy touring the world and playing music for anyone that’d listen.  “Right now?”
You nod. “Right now.”
He hesitates before asking the question he already knows the answer to. “Is he there?”
“No, Nikki. My water broke earlier and I called him to ask if he could bring me to the hospital. He hung up and I called a cab. Unfortunately, your shirt isn’t my main priority right now,” You laugh in good nature. Part of you is hurt, though. How could anyone neglect their responsibilities as a parent? How could anyone, any man, deny their child?
Neither one of you signed up for this life. The baby’s father had made it his priority to remind you that your child was merely an accident, and therefore he owed no responsibility for a child he never wanted.
Nikki had been more than a friend throughout your pregnancy. Caring for others was in his nature, apparently, but when it came to you, it felt different. He took care of you in ways he didn’t need to. Helping you bathe. Picking up food to ease your cravings. Holding you as you cried in his arms. He had always gone above and beyond for you even when he didn’t need to.
“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” There’s commotion on the other end of the line, most likely Nikki panicking to find his shoes and keys. Fifteen minutes isn’t ideal, and your doctor is certainly in a mood now as he stares at you with a blank expression, eyebrows pulled together. Another contraction hits and you grip the sides of your thighs tightly. “Y/N, I’m on my way. Don’t have that baby without me.”
~~~
Nikki is by your side shortly after your first push. Seeing him wide eyed and a bit frazzled eases your pain, and you’re glad he’s there now. You didn’t realize how much you needed his support.
“I’m here, I’m here,” He kisses your forehead quickly, reaching one arm around the pillow to cradle your head, other hand clasped tightly in yours. “Let’s have a baby, okay?”
You nod and focus on the doctor as he commands you to push. Unfortunately for the epidural wearing off, you feel every shred of pain. Sucking in a breath you push again and again, sweat beading your body as every ounce of energy is slowly being drained from your body.
“Baby’s crowning.”
Nikki gazes back at you, his look one of pure adoration. “You’re doing so good. Only a few more pushes okay? You can do this.”
His words make it feel possible. Your lips are dry so you lick them once before adjusting your grip on Nikki’s hand. “I can do this.”
“Ready, Y/N? And one...two...three…”
An ear splitting cry erupts throughout the room, and the weight is lifted off your shoulders as your squirming baby boy is placed on your chest. The blood and gunk on his tiny body isn’t even worth cringing over as you hold him against you. Tears course down your cheeks and drip off your chin, but Nikki is there beside you wiping them away, all the while completely mesmerized by your strength.
As much as you don’t want to let him go, you hand off your son to the nurses for a quick bath. Head against the pillow, your body is overcome with extreme fatigue. A hand comes up to your forehead, pushing the hair off your sweaty skin.
“I did it,” Pride swells in your chest. The morning sickness, the constant cravings, the heartburn, the back pain, everything was worth it. “I did it.”
And even pride swirls in Nikki’s heart. The road to your son’s birth hadn’t been smooth sailing. There were many bumps in the road, and Nikki knew more than anyone how much you had doubted yourself, your abilities to raise a child alone. But if anyone could overcome the adversity life threw at them, it was you. And you’d do it with passion and grace. “I’m so proud of you.”
~~~
Wrapped tightly in a white blanket, your baby boy is fast asleep against your chest. Your jealousy thickens as you observe his sweet little face sleeping so peacefully against your chest.
Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, Nikki pipes up from the chair by the window. “Are you tired? Do you want me to hold him?”
You’d have forever to hold your little boy, so you gingerly hand him over to an excited Nikki. After helping him reposition his arms to support the baby boy’s head, your own head sinks into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.
“Hi, Y/B/N. It’s me, Uncle Nikki. I’ve been friends with your mother for a while now, and I want you to know that you have the best mommy in the world.” Your eyes fly open as quick as they had closed, and the sight in front of you warms your heart. Pressing a delicate kiss to your son’s head, Nikki holds him close. “Somedays, she’s going to struggle though. And when she does, I want you to know that I’m always going to look after her. She can do this alone,” Emotion clouds Nikki’s voice. “But I want her to know she doesn't have to.”
Something in the atmosphere changes. The man in front of you cradling your son as if he were his own had transformed before your eyes. Your heart had always held a soft spot for Nikki, and growing up it wasn’t uncommon for adults to assume you were romantically involved. You’d always denied a relationship between you and Nikki, but as you stare at him softly singing a lullaby to your son, the possibility of you and Nikki entertaining something more than friendship rose to the surface.
“And there’s something I never want you to forget, little one,” Nikki speaks to your son, but his eyes, so full of something that can’t be described as anything other than longing, are zeroed in on your face. “Your mother, even with all her flaws, her quirks, and her insecurities, she’s as close to perfect as one can get. And to be loved by her is something out of a dream.”
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