#miles is a sweetheart so he probably will forgive her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princeblack · 1 year ago

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her voice is like velvet, almost as hypnotizing as her perfect body. he tries not to focus on it, instead listening to her words. she just wanted a ride home and besides that he has a girlfriend he should be texting back right now. it wasn’t fair to any of them if he had thoughts like this, and his parents kept insisting it was a sin (so did the priest, for that matter). the difficult thing about growing up religious was the pressure on everything he did, making him paranoid he was letting someone down but more than that not wanting to be a bad person, either. how would salem feel if she knew the thoughts he’d had about her?

she explains that pansy found blaise and he nods knowingly, almost in a joking way. she probably knows that he’s abstinent because he’s known as a good catholic boy. it makes him think of sirius, who completely rejected the faith and had so much sex that it nearly gave their mother a stroke. “you know you can just say they were going to hook up?” he pretends to sigh. “sorry, that’s sinful. what i meant to say was they’re off doing the devil’s tango.” there’s sarcasm to his tone and it’s admittedly kind of nice to mock the ideology he’s been imprisoned in for once.

when she pats his thigh, his green eyes glance over at her again, feeling his body flush as her touch lingers a moment. she calls him a sweetheart, which makes him feel even warmer. he likes the sound of her voice saying such a word, but he likes it even more that she thinks positively of him in any way. “you think?” he asks, only considering it an obvious courtesy to bring her something to drink that wasn’t alcohol. most people just expected the extra mile from him, no matter what it was.

she asks if he saw their teacher in her tits, which makes him flush, feeling a little guilty. was he that obvious, even when trying to be good? she seems to be light-hearted about it, but he hopes he hasn’t bothered her. “yeah, i did. it’s a new form of scrying… like when you look into a crystal ball and unfocus your eyes? in fact, i think i’m going to make a pit stop at confession now, if you don’t mind..” he tries to joke about it, but his stomach is still churning a little.

she tells him to let her know if their teacher is an asshole, which causes him to glance at her with interest. he’s already started driving again, one hand on the wheel, so he looks back towards the road. “cute enough to forgive me for checking you out too much?” he asks quietly, embarassed that he’s been so obvious. she seems to sure of herself and so beautiful and free that he doubts she wants anything to do with someone stuck behind these metaphorical bars like he is. he can never be free; not when his parents expect so much of him and it’s his duty not to slip up. he should be texting daphne back, but he’d really rather be talking to salem.

she asks about his plans, making him swallow a little, his throat feeling dry. “i was supposed to hang out with daphne tonight, but i wasn’t sure if i was feeling it,” he shrugs, feeling a little bad that he’s blowing her off. he’d probably text her and give her some excuse soon. “but i wanted to make sure you were safe…” he glances over at her again, green eyes searching her. “so, yes, the second one.” salem is special and it’s impossible to deny that, from her personality to her perfect looks.

her transition into the new school had been a rather interesting one. she was nervous of course, not only was she starting a new school but seemingly a new life as she and her aunt had moved away from the past of her family after leslie gained official custody and was able to take the girl out of a town with a dark history due to her very own father. everyone knew of woodsboro and how the little town in california was torn apart by two teenage boys murders twelve people and attempts to kill five more on their way out. one of those boys was her father, stu macher. everyone knew the name, especially the weird lovers who got a little too into true crime but not everyone knew he had a daughter. thankfully for salem she wasn't even alive at the time of the crimes, her mother only meeting him a few years later because she was one of those prison groupies, getting pregnant with salem.

it doesn't surprise anyone that stacy was off her rocker, she saw salem as a connection to a killer she idolized in her sick mind, having very little if any love for her daughter, taking her anger out and causing harm to salem in the worst kind of ways but leslie came to her rescue and she moved salem out to a town far away from there where hopefully no one would know who they were, they coukd start fresh and forget about the blood stained past.

salem seemed to adapt pretty well or at least she did a good job of faking it until she made it. she starts the school year off signing up for the cheerleader squad and doing so well she even makes head cheerleader, she even made best friends with a girl named pansy who seemed to match her rather chaotic side, though slightly more bitchy a lot of the time salem didn't mind it thinking it's funny when the other girl dragged daphne greengrass for "being a stuck up blonde who probably jerked it to jesus more than once." as pansy put it, it was practically funny to salem because she had many reasons to dislike the other girl outside of the whole judgemental factor she also didn't like they someone like that was allowed to show such a sweet and gorgeous, green eyed boyfriend all to herself.

regulus was part of the same insane bible thumping cult that seemed to be a large portion of this town, a cute church boy who probably barely even been kissed properly. it was like untouched art, behind this glass wall of poisoness fears and false promises that if he stayed good he would get to sit on a big fluffy cloud and comb jesus's beard or something, whatever it was she knew he was too good for it and she wanted to help show him, not just to corrupt the cute boy for s few hours but because she actually really liked him. he didn't judge her or look down upon her like his people seemingly did, probably thinking she was a witch or something. he was sweet and funny, maybe s little repressed with the amount of times she caught him staring at her chest even if she did it on purpose and the time.

so she might've schemed just a little, which would be creepy and insane if she wasn't pretty sure she could seduce the sweet boy right out of heaven. getting his number under the pretence that she needed a tutor and just waited for the opportunity which would be tonight. she'd been drinking but not really enough to get drunk, just enough to get a bad idea in her head as she hugs her best friend good bye telling her she got a ride home before texting regulus an sos. there's a small part of her that worries he won't answer her text but she's not surprised when he does. he nearly shivered out of his pants when she not so subtle touched his leg the other day, wanting to test and see what kind of reaction she could get and despite having a girlfriend he never exactly stopped her that added onto the fact that he seemed the type to help his friends which made him even cuter.

the headlights are blinding as they pull up to draco malfoys abnormally huge house, unable to really see because it's so dark as she waits outside, the night getting cold as he pulls into the drive way, or well nearly crashes because he runs over a curb making her giggle a little cause it was actually endearing in a hot way. reaffirming she really wants this boy as she opens his car door and scoots inside to be greeted by sweet green eyes and genuine concern for her safety. "oh! yeah I'm fine....pansy just met up with blaise and you know..." she teases, though she was the one to tell her friend to go so she could spend time with regulus. she looks down at the water he offers her, making her smile that he cared so much, reaching over to pat his thigh . "you're such a sweetheart." she says, letting it linger for a second before realizing she's sitting on something, lifting her hips she completely missed his phone in the passenger seat, deciding to place it in the lap for now.

regulus jokes about how he totally meant to run over the curb a second ago and she can't help but smirk, raising a brow at him. "oh really? did you see him in my tits?" her tone is teasing as she smirks up at him. "it's fine, you're cute when you try to lie though and if that old bastard gives you trouble again just tell me." she says, leaning her head against the car seat.

it's at that moment the phone lights up against her thighs, it's silenced for some reason but someone was spamming him and salem can't help but he a little nosey, hoping he wouldn't mind as she looks down to see texts from daphne "where are you??? I thought we were hanging out tonight" one message read being followed by another "did you fall asleep? :/" did he ditch his girlfriend for her? salem thinks before smirking to herself and blue eyes look at the driver, almost innocently like she didn't see the messages pop up as she pushes the phone between her legs for 'safe' keeping for now . "so no plans for tonight?" she purrs. "or am I just that special to the towns favorite church boy already?"

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. salem ) .

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tetsuwhore · 4 years ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 | 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐮

Description: you’re so soft, so pliant against him, innocently fluttering your eyelashes as you look up at him. it makes Oikawa want to ruin you. so, he does.

Warning: explicit smut - corruption kink, overstimulation, one mention of videotaping, soft dom!Oikawa, shy!Reader

Length: 4.1k words

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oikawa had only wanted to kiss you goodbye.

That’s all he had meant to do - end the night a little sweet before leaving your doorway for the drive back to his apartment. Maybe even whisper something in your ear about how he couldn’t wait to see how pretty you looked in your outfit for the next date night, just so he had one last chance to see your face grow pink at his cheekiness.

But he doesn’t even reach that far, because before he can pull away, you’re grasping on to the thick of his shoulders, bringing his lips back against your soft ones. You’re kissing him hard, with far more vigour than he was expecting. It’s uncharacteristic of you. He can’t bring himself to pull away.

He wants to lose himself - to the saccharine scent of your perfume, to the magnetic pull of your arms as they loop around his neck, to the feeling of your soft tits pressing up against the hardness of his chest. Suddenly, Oikawa’s intoxicated, and it has nothing to do with the wine from earlier tonight. No, it’s you; you’re everywhere, all around him. And he’s so tempted to simply give in to the inebriation.

But he shouldn’t. It was too early, wasn’t it? No, he should wait until you’re ready. That would be the right thing to do. All he had to do was gently pull away from you and-

“Oikawa-kun… I need you to, um, to touch me? Please?”

Fuck. You’re practically begging him to fuck you. And he wants to. Oikawa wants to.

Maybe he should. He considers the thought - it would be cruel of him not to, wouldn’t it? To deny you, even when he can feel the needy undulation of your front against his crotch, and your hardened nipples poking through the thin fabric of your blouse.

And when you begin moaning into his mouth, whining about how you wanted him - no, needed him - to make you feel good, Oikawa knows that he physically can’t push you away.

So he makes haste of fishing your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door, and swiftly bringing you inside before he lost all his senses and fucked you right there at the doorway of your apartment.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

It’s amusing, really.

How the moment Oikawa has you laying on the bed, with him hovering on top of you, you lose all remnants of that forwardness. Every trace of the boldness from earlier melts away, and left behind, is his shy, timid girlfriend.

He’s stripped your pants away, leaving your bottom half naked, save for your panties. It’s a flimsy thing, with fabric so thin that he can practically feel the dampness soaking through to his pants. And it does absolutely nothing to protect you from the rutting of his hardening bulge against your clothed clit.

It’s the slightest motion, just a simple brush every so often. And yet, you’re already a shaky mess under him, blushing and quivering at every movement. You’re unable to even look at him, tilting your head to the side, eyes pulled tightly shut.

“You need to be touched here,” Oikawa coos, his fingers lightly ghosting along the length of your clothed slit, “don’t you, baby?” He chuckles at the sight of your frantic nodding, moving off of you to support himself on one elbow. Thumbing your panties, he looks to you for permission, “How about we get this out of the way, hmm?”

Upon receiving your shy nod, he loops deft fingers into the waistband, slowing prying the fabric away from your dripping cunt. Oikawa has to contain himself - take a deep breath in so he doesn’t cum in his pants - as his eyes follow the clear string of slickness left behind as he slides your panties along your quivering thighs, all the way down to your ankles, before placing it aside.

Your eyes are still screwed shut, likely from the embarrassment of being so exposed in front of him. But when a second passes, then one more, and then another still, your eyes flutter open. You turn to him, confusion evident in your expression as you watch him remain where he is - idly resting by your side on one arm.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your eyes are the size of saucers now, gaping up at him as you stutter over your words.

“I- I can’t- That’s too…”

“Go on, baby,” Oikawa coaxes gently, “For me.”

He follows your shaky hand as it ghosts along your abdomen, before finally reaching the place between your legs. He’s patient, waiting silently as he watches your eyes fall shut again, listening for the soft whimpers that escape your lips as your fumbling fingers brush against your quivering inner folds.

You have your bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth - a habit of nervousness, he’s learnt. Nervous about what? Nervous about… him? The thought of it makes Oikawa grin to himself. Even with your eyes closed, he knows you’re aware. You’re painfully aware of how he’s watching you, silently scrutinizing your slightest movements, your every reaction.

It’s a tinge sadistic, he knows; he really should be doing more to make you feel more at ease. And yet, the sight of you so self-conscious and awkward under his sharp gaze, so desperate to make yourself as small as you can…

It just makes him even harder.

“Oikawa-kun… I can’t”

He’s quick to card his fingers through your hair, softly rubbing them against your scalp in soothing motions. Planting a light kiss to your forehead, Oikawa whispers reassuring praises in your ear, hoping it would be enough to coax you into continuing the ministrations of your fingers.

“No, I really c-can’t…” your voice is so small that he barely catches what you say, “I don’t- I don’t know how…”

Huh. How interesting.

Oikawa raises a brow in curiosity, “You’ve never touched yourself before?” Shaking your head, “Just on-once,” you quietly confess, “but I didn’t, um… y’know…”

Very interesting, indeed.

“Tell me about it,” he presses gently, “What did you think about, hmm?”

“It was that day after you, um, you t-took me to… to watch you practice,” your voice is laced with embarrassment now, uncontrollably shaky, “I couldn’t s-stop thinking about you...” Gulping, you keep going, “So, uh, after you dr-dropped me home, I- I-”

Oikawa hums, hoping the feigned nonchalance of it was believable enough to hide how crazy your words were driving him.

“I tried to, um, you know, t-touch… d-down there... but all I could t-think, oh-” your breath hitches in surprise as you glance down to find his other hand drawing slow circles on the skin of your thigh. Hovering so, very dangerously close to the heat of your cunt. And yet, he keeps his eyes on your face, waiting for you to continue.

“I kept thinking about… about y-your fingers… how they’re so much longer and, ah- and th-thicker than mine,” his eyes are growing wider, darker at every utterance slipping from your lips. Did you have any idea what you were doing to his ego?

“And how mine got too… um, too t-tired to continue, but yours,” you’re struggling so hard now, voice so shaky that you’re barely coherent, “yours would pr-probably m-make… make me… oh-”

But now those very fingers are lightly tracing the outside of your pussy lips, and the rest of it comes out so garbled that Oikawa isn’t even sure it can be considered speech. It’s okay, he can forgive you. Because fuck, this was really too much, and he would be a hypocrite to chide you for it.

Oikawa would be a hypocrite to judge you when his own thoughts were completely scrambled, swarming all over the place as he zoned in on the mental picture of you.

Of his cute girlfriend, lying alone in her bed that night, fingers sunken deep into her dripping cunt as she fantasized about him. Of his little sweetheart, realizing in frustration that her tiny little fingers weren’t enough to make her cum, that they could never be enough, because she needed him to do it for her. Of his-

“Oikawa-kun, please!” your shrill pleading interrupts his thoughts, “I-I need… I need…”

Him. You need him.

And oh, he wanted to give you what you needed. Oikawa wanted to fuck you up, he wanted to ruin you, he wanted to use his fingers, his tongue, his thigh, his cock, all of it, until you were completely and utterly tainted by him.

Still, he was selfish. He couldn’t just give you everything that easily, right? He was ready to spoil you (and he did mean in both ways), but he needed something from you first.

“Okay, cutie, okay,” Oikawa has to hide the laugh bubbling in his throat when he hears your breath of relief, “But first, I think you need to address me properly.”

“Huh? Oikawa-kun, wha-”

He tuts disapprovingly at that, trailing his fingers away from your clit, now throbbing from being neglected for so long. He chuckles when you try to grip on to his arm, weakly attempting to bring him to where you needed him most. Except, he was Oikawa Tooru - professionally trained athlete. It wouldn’t work.

You’re still shaking, skin still flushed that gorgeous shade of crimson. But there’s a desperation in you now, a hunger for more, and he sees it perfectly in your frenzied movements as you grind your hips up in a feeble attempt to reach his straying fingers.

He hears it loud and clear in your shrill whines as you beg, “Oikawa… I’ll do a-anything, just- just touch me!”

This time, Oikawa does laugh. It’s low, dark, as he takes in your words. Were you even aware of what you were saying, of the magnitude of that word - ‘anything’? But as his gaze returns to your face, as he watches how you peer up at him through tear-glazed eyes, eyelashes fluttering ever so innocently, he realizes.

No. You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re offering him, the power you’re placing in his hands. It’s dangerous. Because again, Oikawa - ever the opportunist - is selfish. And when you offer him an inch, he’ll always go after the mile.

“My little cutie is willing to do anything? Just so I make her cum? Hmm, how about...” he hums against your neck, grinning at how you shudder at the feel of his hot breath on your skin, “...you call me by my name then?”

You look up at him in confusion, “W-What? Oik-”

“My actual name.”

It’s such a simple thing really, so easy to overlook. Getting you to drop the formalities. One by one - first with the lack of honorifics, and now, using his first name. To anyone else, it may have seemed so trivial. But this was you. His shy little girlfriend - so respectful, so polite, always ready with your pleases and thank yous.

“Please make me cum… T-Tooru…”

And so, it was more than enough for him.

Suddenly, he’s on top of you again, hot mouth swallowing your surprised whimpers as he kisses you hard, rough, hungry. Oikawa’s ruthless as his teeth tug down on your bottom lip, giving way for his tongue to slither in and taste the sweet inside of your mouth. It swipes against the edges of your teeth, licks up into the roof of your mouth, before finally tangling with yours.

And fuck, you’re moaning, you’re moaning into the kiss, because now his bulge is right against your naked cunt, rubbing up your swollen clit.

You flinch when the sound of ripping fabric echoes through the room.

His large hands pull the shredded remnants of your blouse away, allowing him a second to drink in your trembling form, now free of the oppressive cloth hiding you away from him. Oikawa trails his eyes down your heaving chest, focuses on the slight jiggle of your naked breasts as you attempt to control your staggering breaths.

You remind him of a porcelain doll - pretty, delicate, probably been treated like fragile glassware all your life. And your skin… your skin is smooth as china; it’s completely clear, with not a single blemish in sight.

Yet, all Oikawa can think about is tarnishing it, bruising it, treating it like his own personal canvas and splotching it with angry blooms of red, blue, and purple.

So, he does. His mouth ravages the expanse of your skin, sucking and kissing and licking and biting, exploring every crevice. But wait- you’re pushing him away, fingers wrangling with the hem of his shirt. Pulling apart, Oikawa makes haste of yanking his shirt off, hissing when he finally, finally feels your dainty hands grasping on to his naked skin.

Then he’s back to abusing your skin, delving into the soft cups of your breasts, into the crook of your neck. And he can hear all kinds of sounds escaping your lips - from pleasure, desperation, maybe even… pain?

He can’t tell; and he would’ve been more concerned, but right now, he simply doesn’t care, because you’re moaning for ‘more Tooru!’, you’re gripping his shoulders closer to you and you’re arching your back up so he can latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.

Your thighs are already quivering as he glides down to hover over them, slowly trailing kisses along the skin of your midriff before finally settling in between your legs. You watch, breath bated, eyes wide in trepidation as Oikawa slowly hooks one calve over his broad shoulder. The other thigh, however, he presses flat down on the mattress.

“Don’t move this one.”

You’re blushing fiery red, clearly mortified at having your cunt spread open on display in front of him. And yet, you see how much his eyes have hardened, now a murky black as they lock on you. There isn’t any option available other than to nod.

“Good girl.”

And as Oikawa peers down at your glistening folds - his face so close that he’s practically inhaling the smell of sex, of sin - he wishes he had the patience to draw it out, to explore every part of you properly. But your desperation is practically palpable, with the frenzied undulation of your hips, and the way you’re chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation.

He decides to be generous.

With one clear, fluid stroke, he’s dragging his tongue up the length of your slit, and he’s dragging the most wanton moan out of your lips. He can’t hold back his own sounds either, because fuck, you’re delicious. You’re saccharine sweet, and all Oikawa can think about is how he wants more, more, more.

So he takes it. Straightening his tongue out, he moves it past your slit, dips it into the warm cavern of your cunt and laps up all the slickness he can reach. His nose is nudged up against your clit, brushing against it as his slick tongue continues to explore the inside of your slopping pussy.

Oikawa tilts his head to the side slightly, stealing a glance at the thigh that isn’t in his grasp. It’s trembling, hovering ever-so-slightly off the mattress. And yet, he can see how painfully tight the muscle is strained as it remains in its place, just like he asked (or rather, ordered). Even with his mouth buried deep in your folds, he feels his lips draw into a smile. You’re such a good girl for him; so obedient.

Deciding that he had indulged enough, Oikawa withdraws his tongue from inside you and begins furiously lapping it up, all the way from your slit to your throbbing clit. He keeps it up, repeating it again and- wait, suddenly, he realizes that you’ve fallen quiet, and he looks up, and... are you- are you wincing? Concerned, he pulls away slightly.

“Something wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

His warm hand caresses up and down your thigh, reassuring you as you attempt to muster up the right words, “I- I like it. But, um, c-could you… could you, maybe go… softer?”

Oikawa chuckles to himself, as he settles back in. Of course. How could he allow himself to get so carried away? His little cutie was delicate, so utterly sensitive to his every touch. He needed to keep in mind that he couldn’t just ravage you at every stop.

(Even if the thought was a little more than enticing).

And ah, there it is. That’s the sound he was looking for. Oikawa knows he’s got it right when you’re squirming in his hold, sharp whimpers and mewls bubbling out of your lips over, and over, and over again. So he swipes his tongue the same way you seem to enjoy so much.

Over, and over, and over again.

You’ve shed away all inhibitions now, shamelessly grinding your cunt against his face, smearing your slick all over his chin and cheeks. His peripherals roam up your quivering body, settling on your face. Your neck is jerked forward slightly, granting him the perfect view of your expression. You have your eyes screwed shut, mouth pulled slack, cheeks reddened and slightly wet with your spit running down the sides.

Fuck. You’re gorgeous like this. Oikawa wants to brand the image into his memory, keep it safe so it can resurface every time he’s alone and got his hand wrapped around his dick as he thinks about you. Or maybe... maybe, you’d even let him get a camera to record it?

Well, he’ll have to remember to ask about it, but later. Because suddenly, your tiny fingers are tangling themselves in his chocolate locks, your lips sobbing a string of “Tooru! Tooru! Tooru!” You cum violently, messily as your cunt practically drools on to his tongue. Oikawa eats you through it, letting you ride out the waves of your pleasure on his flattened tongue.

And then, he keeps going.

He doesn’t pull away even as you cry out at the oversensitivity, your knee knocking into his temple in a frenzied restlessness. Oikawa simply grips your hips down into the mattress and keeps his tongue buried in the folds of your hot cunt, tangling his tongue against the little nub. He only settles back once you’ve cum again, sending a fresh new pool of slickness dripping down his chin.

You don’t expect it when he surges up to place his body on top of yours, his lips already finding yours in a hungry kiss. It’s messy, with your release smearing all over your cheeks and chin from his face. Oikawa pulls away once he’s satisfied, giving you the chance to finally, finally catch a short breath. He grins at the fresh slick now coating your lower face.

Parting your lips with his thumb, he smears it across your tongue, grinning as he asks, “Tastes good, don’t you think?”

He watches as you tilt your face to the side, casting your eyes away from his piercing gaze. You respond with a shy nod.

“So, cutie,” Oikawa begins, a smug smirk on his face, “You must be pretty tired, I don’t think you can handle my cock right away. Maybe we should leave it at this, hmm?”

And fuck, it’s all worth it when he sees the desperation, the pure need on your face when you rush to grip on to his forearm, begging him to keep going, that you could take whatever he had to give you, that you needed something to fill you up.

Sure enough, when he glances down, he sees how your cunt pulsates, clenching around nothing. Fuck, he wasn’t going to be able to hold back.

“Since you seem so insistent,” he feigns a cocky tone, as if he isn’t the one with the raging boner, “You want me to fuck you then? Stretch you out with my cock?”

You remain silent, choosing to nod again. Oh, that wouldn’t do. “No, no,” Oikawa shakes his head in disapproval, “Use your words, baby.”

“Want you to-” your lower lip trembles as you speak, the embarrassment causing hot tears to gather at the corners of your closed eyes, “want you to- to f-fuck me… Tooru...”

Hearing such filth escape your lips is the last straw. His patience is now replaced by a ferocious need, a craving, a hunger.

From that point, the rest feels like a fever dream. Oikawa remembers sheathing himself in you, gritting his teeth and hissing as your tight cunt somehow manages to resist the entry of his cock while simultaneously sucking him in deeper. He can feel the sharp sting of your nails as they scramble for purchase on the sweat sheened surface of his broad back.

He definitely remembers the way you tighten up as you cum, your body succumbing to his strong thrusts and harsh rutting against your clit. The silky walls of your cunt clamp up around his dick, making him have to work harder and harder to move every inch.

Oikawa recalls you whimpering into his ear, sobbing about how it was too much, how you couldn’t handle more, how you were far too sensitive. And yet, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, because it’s you who is pulling his hips deeper into you with your legs, and it’s you who has got your arms wrapped around his shoulders in a deadlock.

What Oikawa can picture most vividly, however, is you cupping his flushed cheeks, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss. The tenderness of your touch, of your warm mouth, of you, so soft and pliant under him - it’s all such a stark contrast to the harshness of his thrusts.

Then, your gentle voice is at his ear again, but this time you’re telling him you love him, you love him, you love him, you-

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*⋆.*:･ﾟ: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The room is dense with the sound of your staggering breaths intermingling with his.

For a moment, Oikawa allows himself to black the world out, closing his eyes and resting his head against your heaving breasts. He can faintly feel a soft pressure against his temple - he realizes that it’s your lips, planting one, two, three kisses along his skin.

Lifting his head up, Oikawa allows his eyes to fall open, so they can face yours.

And then, you’re both breaking out into giggles.

“Fuck, you deserve an Oscar for that.”

“God, yeah, I definitely do,” you laugh, “Hell, I almost believed myself during some of it.”

“It was incredible, baby. Really,” Oikawa’s tone grows uncharacteristically hesitant as he continues, “But… you enjoyed it too, right? Wasn’t uncomfortable or anything?”

“Relax, Tooru. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you shake your head, your hands moving to gently cup his face. “I knew I could trust you. Besides, t’was fun playing pillow princess for a bit. But, uh...” you stretch out your leg, wincing at the ache, “my thigh is sore as a bitch right now.”

He chuckles at that, a long arm already extending down your leg to massage the cramps away.

“Really though, who would’ve guessed - world famous athlete Oikawa Tooru is really a freak who fantasizes about ruining his-” you snicker as you make a mock attempt at imitating his silky tone, “his ‘innocent little cutie’ of a girlfriend.”

“Hey! It’s not that weird,” Oikawa whines defensively. “But, fuck, you really pulled some of that stuff straight out of my fantasies. Like, that whole thing about not being able to touch yourself properly because you needed me to get you off? It’s so-”

“I would like to interject and remind you that you cannot possibly expect me to believe that you’d know how to get me off better than I would. No fucking way a dude knows my body better than I do. That’s some weird porn shit right there.”

“Shhh, it’s a nice fantasy, though - my girl fucking herself silly on her fingers, only to get frustrated when she can’t cum because it doesn’t feel right and she needs me to do it for her. Don’t spoil it, let a man dream.”

You roll your eyes at him, flicking his forehead with your finger, but nonetheless, pull his head back against your chest. Oikawa settles against you with a satisfied yawn, strong arms wrapped tight around your middle.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Tooru...”

Oh no.

He can feel the incessant tapping of your fingers against his fingers. Looking up, he groans at the sight of the mischievous grin on your face.

“I know you want to,” he sighs, “Just say it.”

“...even if you are a freak.”

#oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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softukiyos · 4 years ago

Text

of last dances and goodbyes | bang chan

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦; 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘻.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~2.1k+

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: @aegrotamograine

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘩𝘪, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺! >.< 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨! 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶!

A sigh of tranquility and dejection left Chan’s lips as he stood at the edge of the balcony, the mindless chatter inside the ballroom fading into the distance at he stared at up at the stars, lost in thought.

When did the night sky start to look so dull to him? As a matter of fact, when did his eyes start to lose that childlike sparkle of innocence that shielded him from the rest of the world?

“I thought you’d be hiding here, Channie.”

Just the sound of your voice pulled him back to reality, which wasn’t any less dull and heartless at the chilly sky, “You should be inside, Your Highness,” he said, a polite edge to his voice as he turned around to face you, “The birthday girl shouldn’t be missing at her own party.”

You looked as beautiful as ever, a dazzling lavender gown trailing down your body with a soft, cashmere shawl wrapped around your bare shoulders, shielding you from the cold. The jewelry adorning your neck was priceless, brilliant, and everything Chan couldn’t give you.

“You know don’t care about me, they just want to have a reason to celebrate,” you answered with an amused smile, your heels clicking against the marble floor as you walked towards him, “Besides, I’d much rather be here with you.”

In the past, those words would’ve sent Chan’s heart spiraling into arrest. He would’ve been giddy for days, even weeks. But now, the reality was crashing onto him at a mile a minute, and he could no longer ignore the impending fracture of your once inseparable relationship.

“When do you leave? For his kingdom?” He asked, unable to hide his disdain any longer as he refused to even utter his name.

Your smile fell, and Chan almost felt guilty if he wasn’t so caught up in wallowing in his own heartbreak, “Tomorrow. Minho wanted to give me time to settle in before the...you know.”

Ah, yes. Chan knew very well what you were referring to, unfortunately for his poor little soul, “You don’t have to sugarcoat it for my sake, Your Highness,” he said with a dry smile, “Your wedding to Prince Minho should be a joyous occasion.”

“If it is so joyous as you say, why do you look so solemn?” You asked, your eyes unwavering in their steadfast nature as you met his gaze, walking closer to him.

“A joyous occasion for you, Princess,” Chan corrected himself, a tightness in his jaw as he maintained his stiff smile.

You stared at him for a moment longer, almost as if studying how long Chan will continue this farce, this falsehood of a conversation that kept you so far away from even with every physical step closer you took, “You must be angry at me.”

“I wouldn’t dare be angry at a Princess--”

“Just shut up with the stupid formalities and speak to me like a real person, dammit,” you suddenly spit out with such vitriol that even Chan felt thrown aback by your anger. When you caught sight of his shocked expression, your voice cracked as your smile broke, “You’re the only person in this palace that ever truly saw me, truly cared for me, and now I’ll have to leave this place losing you, too?”

Chan felt a horrified gasp choke up in his throat as he rushed forward without hesitation as he saw your eyes sparkling dangerously under the glow of the lamps, “Princess,” he sighed, reaching to wipe your tears with his thumb before stopping himself.

He couldn’t do such careless things anymore. You were no longer the free-spirited girl he grew up with, who flirted as she wished and loved as she desired. You were an engaged Princess with a glittering diamond ring wrapped around your middle finger and a duty to the Crown you were born into.

You ignored his internal turmoil, wiping the corners of your eyes angrily, “There wasn't any other choice, and you know it. You know what kind of position they almost found us in. If I hadn't agreed to this—”

“They would've taken off my head,” Chan finished dully, almost tired of hearing it by now. He was tired of arguing, tired of still thinking himself to be free of any wrongdoing, “An execution for a knight who simply did his duty and loved his princess too much.”

Your silence was the only agreement you could bear to offer.

“I would’ve accepted it, you know,” he continued, chuckling mirthlessly as he looked up at the sky once again, “I would’ve been willing to die for you, for us.”

“But I couldn’t bear that,” you croaked out, the thought of it twisting the knife further into your weak heart as you stared at Chan, “You know I can’t bear to see you suffer for me.”

“Dying would’ve been less painful,” he finally hissed, eyes blazing as he clenched his jaw, trying to regain control again, “Dying would be less painful than seeing you marry another person.”

But at that, you only shook your head, “You’re wrong, Channie. It will hurt, I won’t doubt that it will, especially since it’s been tearing me apart the same way, but you’ll move on from me. You’ll find a pretty lady and you’ll fall head over heels for her, and you will be happy again.”

Chan felt his heart effectively splinter into tiny pieces as he reached for your face again, this time bearing to brush his fingers against your cheek tentatively, “I don’t want to move on,” he whispered as if the walls and the vines would carry his words back to the King and Queen, “My heart has been yours since the beginning, Princess—please—”

“This is the only way, Channie,” you spoke just as softly, holding his hand in your own as you gazed at him with such love and desperation, and he realized with horror that you were pressing something into his palm. The little teddy bear charm he’d given you when you went off on your first foreign trip. You’d clutched it to your chest every night, clinging onto it for comfort and imagining that you were burrowed in Chan’s strong arms again. But now, it was time to give it back to its original owner.

Just then, the next lighthearted waltz began to ring from inside the ballroom, filling your ears with a gentle music, too kind and loving for the conversation you were having. But maybe that was what you both needed. Kindness. Forgiveness. Love.

“My darling knight,” you whispered, lacing your fingers together as you leaned your forehead against his. No one was watching, and this might be your last chance to speak to him, to feel him so close against you, “Dance with me.”

Chan shook his head, being childish for once in his life. He didn't want to dance with you. He didn't want to say goodbye. He knew what was going to happen; when the waltz finished, you'd no longer be his, his love, his sweetheart.

“Please,” you asked softly, gazing at him with such sadness and love that it was all Chan could do to not burst into tears, “Please let me leave tomorrow knowing that I was loved by someone. Please let me show you how much I love you.”

Slowly, he reached for your hand, and with an arm around your waist, the two of you swayed gently to the music wafting out from the ballroom, thinking and looking at no one but each other. Chan was the first person you ever danced with, the person whose toes you’d stepped on an unholy amount of times and the first person you’d thrown a temper tantrum at when you screwed up the footwork for the fourth time in a row.

And you, you were Chan’s first and only love. He stood by your side since he was only seven years old, a homeless orphan taken in by one of the royal knights under your father’s command. Since the moment he’d met you, cheeks puffed out with indignation as you walked around with the king, he’d been enamoured by your spirit, vowing to safeguard it for as long as he was physically capable.

It had only been a matter of time better the two of you fell in love.

As the music swelled in the present, Chan felt his inhibitions slowly ebb away with the music. He lifted you into the air, a smile creeping onto his lips as you began to smile. Giggles were exchanged as you purposely stepped on his toes.

“Hey,” he said pointedly, eyeing you, “I know you don’t do that on accident anymore.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said with an innocent expression before the two of you dissolved into giggles once more and continued to dance, spinning and twirling to your hearts content.

Chan found himself smiling as he haphazardly spun with you, twisting both of your arms and making you laugh. You found yourself smacking his chest more than a few times as he added cheeky dips and twirls that would’ve made your dance teacher faint in abject horror.

The two of you danced and danced until, like a painful pinch to your skin, the music ended as suddenly as it began, and the clumsy yet heart-wrenchingly endearing waltz was over. Chan felt his bright smile morph into something more peaceful as he held your waist, held you close as his heart pounded. Could you feel it? Probably, and if you couldn’t feel it you’d still know anyway. He could tell that you knew, just from the way you looked at him, so unrestrained and filled to the brim with love that you could never express with words or actions. It was always in your eyes.

His gaze fell to your soft lips and his heart skipped a beat. He wished he could kiss you, he wanted to kiss you. If he didn’t now, he’d never get the chance again.

It must’ve been his lucky day, because you seemed to be thinking the same thing. Like clockwork, the two of you fell into each other’s embrace as Chan shifted, pressing you against the marble railing of the balcony as his broad shoulders shielded you from the windows and any other nosy onlookers.

“Princess,” he murmured, his nose almost brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered closed, being pulled towards your knight as if an invisible force was pushing you forward.

“Dearest!”

A shrill voice called from the door to the balcony, and the two of you froze in fear, your hands stopping from where they’d crept up to Chan’s neck. The man reacted immediately, moving away from you as if burned, even though the two of you were behind a few well placed bushes that there was no way she could see either of you.

It hurt you more than you could explain, even though you were the one who had to reap what you’d sowed.

“Yes, mother?” You called in response, fixing your hair as you stayed hidden from her piercing gaze.

“Are you done stargazing? Your fiancé is looking for you!”

Chan flinched as if he’d been physically slapped. Ah, yes. The moment was so blissful for a few minutes that he’d almost forgotten the current situation. He wasn’t supposed to be even a feet near you, and you were supposed to be carted off to your husband’s kingdom at dawn.

You sucked in a breath, throwing Chan a pained glance before answering, “Can it wait?”

“I don’t think it can, dearest. He’s already postponed the toast for quite a while to give you the space you wanted!” Even from a distance, you could hear your mother’s sharp exasperation, “Can’t you just come in? Don’t make a fuss, Y/N.”

Chan wanted you to say no, to scoff right at your mother’s face and stick your tongue out before running away petulantly. That was what the little you would’ve done, and Chan was always the one that had to pick up the pieces, bowing profusely to your parents before following you.

But unfortunately for the both of you, those times had passed, and you were no longer the immature little girl he’d grown up with. He could see it in the way you straightened your posture almost imperceptibly, the way your gaze towards him grew sad. You were going back in to your fiancé, your future.

With one last squeeze of his hand, you pulled away from him and headed back into the ballroom, turning your back on your past, your childhood that was filled with nothing but innocence and Chan--so much Channie this, Channie that.

And as Chan stood alone in the shadows, out of sight and out of your life, he let out a bitter chuckled, clutching the little charm so tightly in his fist that he was afraid it might crack.

He didn’t even get to kiss you one last time.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x y/n #skz x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan blurbs #stray kids blurbs #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #dream type: drabbles

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years ago

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Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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arctickat2400 · 3 years ago

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Postpartum Insecurities <> Bucky Barnes

“She’s so beautiful,” You smiled down at your daughter in your arms. You laid in the bed in the med bay of the Avengers Compound, wrapped in Bucky’s arms as he sat behind you. He rubbed your arm softly as you both cooed over your newborn.

“Do you have a name yet?” Dr. Cho asked with a smile as she took your vitals. You looked up at Bucky in question. You had been talking about names probably since you found out you were pregnant. Though, you still didn’t know what was right. But, looking at your daughter now for the first time, both you and Bucky knew the perfect name.

“Sophie Rae... Sophie Rae Barnes.” You smiled up at Bucky, him returning the gesture. He kissed your forehead as you continued to adore your daughter.

* * *

“I’ll be right back.” You said to Bucky, gesturing to the front counter of the cafe, before standing from the booth.

“You want me to get you something, doll?” Bucky questioned. He was always so sweet like that, getting you anything you needed or wanted.

“It’s alright, babe. I got it.” Smiling, you kissed his cheek and walked back up to the counter. There was a new barista working the register today. Brooke must’ve had a day off.

“What can I get for you?” The woman, Caroline, offered.

“Can I get one of the chocolate chip brownies and a java chip frappe, please?” You asked with a smile.

“You sure about that?” She started, and you could hear a bit of judgment in her voice. “With that appetite, that extra weight isn’t going anywhere. Never gonna get that gorgeous model body back.” She states, and you could feel the tears build up. Before you got pregnant, you had the perfect body and you were a very well-known model. But, then, you had your daughter and your body never went back to the way it used to be. No matter how grateful you were for your daughter, nothing could change your insecurities.

“Um… well,” You hesitated. “Never mind, then.” And with that, you left back to your table. Bucky’s head snapped up, sensing you were close. It was kinda like a sixth sense for him. Which meant you couldn’t sneak up on him like you could with your other friends.

“Hey, baby. I thought you were gonna get something to eat.” Bucky wondered as you slid back into the booth across from him. You made eye contact with him and you could feel the sadness build up more and more.

“I, uh, changed my mind. But, um… could we actually go home?” You questioned. You saw Bucky’s expression change from adoration to concern.

“Yeah, sure.” He began as he followed your movements out of the booth. You started walking out of the cafe, and you could swear you saw the barista glare at you as you walked by. You sped out of the cafe and were almost 3 buildings down the street already when Bucky caught up to you, took your hand, and stopped you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Bucky asked, more worry laced in his voice. A tear escaped your eye and you tried to turn away, but Bucky pulled you closer to him, his hand on your cheek. He turned your head to look at him and wiped the tears away.

"Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on?” Bucky questioned, his eyes glued to yours.

“That new girl at the counter... she told me that I was...” You sniffled as you said the word ‘fat’ under your breath. You didn’t want to say it, but that is what she was implying. You knew Bucky could hear you, his super serum allowing him to hear miles away probably.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just pulled you into his arms as you let a few more tears slip.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Let’s not make a big deal of this.” But, Bucky knew that, once she pulled away and looked up at him with that shocked look on her face, he had said the wrong thing.

“You don’t think this is a big deal?” You said, anger building up. You were speechless. Bucky opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t let him. You didn’t say anything else as you turned around and made your way back to your car. You got into the passenger’s seat, Bucky in the driver’s seat and you traveled back to the compound.

“Doll, I’m sorry. I just...”

“Don’t,” You said louder than intended. “Just don’t.” They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive to the compound.

Everyone knew you were insecure about your body. Ever since your pregnancy, you had to give up your modeling career and your body changed drastically.

You weren’t the skinny, beautiful girl Bucky had first fallen in love with. You didn’t think he’d want you anymore. But, he told you differently. He told you he had made a promise to always love you no matter what when he proposed to you. He promised that he’d always think you were as beautiful as he thought you to be when you first met. And you believed him, deep down.

But, other times, you would go through phases of depression and you would hate yourself. No one really understood, clearly. Everyone thought you were overreacting, as always. You hated your body now, there was extra weight everywhere. And no matter what Bucky told you, how beautiful you always were and always will be, you couldn’t help but hate yourself more.

You hated being mad at Bucky, but the person you loved more than anyone or anything, the one person you’d think would understand more than anyone thought it wasn’t a big deal. And, though he thinks whatever you’re going on about is complete nonsense, Bucky hates the distance between you two.

Later, in the afternoon, Steve decided to bring you and Bucky with him to meet a friend to pick up some stuff, weapons and such. As part of your job, you’re forced to talk to Bucky, as well as all the others. You’re not surprised Steve chose to bring Bucky, his best friend. Though it was quite obvious, Steve didn’t know you weren’t talking to each other, so he brought you too. You sat in the front seat of Steve’s Buggy, Bucky in the back, and Steve driving, of course. You pull up under a bridge behind a black car, belonging to Sharon Carter.

“I’ll be right back...” Steve says, getting out of the car, leaving you and Bucky alone. Everything is silent as you watch Steve converse with Sharon. You watch as she opens her trunk and you see several guns and Steve’s shield on the top of the pile.

Suddenly, “Can you move your seat up?” Bucky breaks the silence.

“No.” You answer without any emotion, just annoyance, keeping your eyes on the two blondes in front of you.

You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you, and you just barely feel the car move seconds later as he shifts over to the middle seat. You watch a smile form on Steve’s face as he leans into Sharon, and they share a passionate kiss. You didn’t know they were a thing. You were quite surprised, to be honest, considering Peggy’s funeral was just two days ago. But you thought it was sweet. Steve’s known Sharon for a while, it seems. You smile at the romance.

“Ya know, that could be us,” Bucky states and your smile falters, remembering your fight from just hours before. You stay silent. “I’m sorry, Y/N...”

But there was something in you that just wasn’t yet forgiving. You focus back on Steve and Sharon. She gets back in her car just as Steve made eye contact with you. You and Bucky smile at him as a light blush lit up Steve’s cheeks.

About 20 minutes later, you three make it back to the compound. You get out of the car and make your way inside. A smile lights up your face as you see your daughter running towards you, a huge smile on her face.

“Mommy!” She exclaims, running into your arms. You’ve only been gone about 2 hours, but she’s always excited when you get home.

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you have fun with Aunt Nat?” You asked her, kneeling down in front of her.

“Yeah! We colored and then she taught me how to load a gun.” Sophie answered. You chuckled nervously, not really knowing how to feel about that, considering she was 6 and wasn’t ready to be around guns.

“Oh, did she?” You met Nat’s eyes from across the room and she just shrugged with a smug smile. You looked back at your daughter.

“Well, I’m gonna go freshen up. Go say hi to Daddy.” You say just as Bucky walked through the door with Steve.

She looked over at her dad and Uncle Steve, a bigger smile growing on her lips.

“Daddy!” She squealed as she ran to him. You stood up and walked away through the halls and to your room.

“Hey, baby girl! How was your morning?” Buck smiles as he holds Sophie in his arms, her perched on his hip.

“It was good. Did you know that you always keep your gun on the safety until you are ready to use it?” Sophie states with a giggly smile.

Bucky chuckles at his daughter. “Yes, I did know that. But, I didn’t think you were ready to know that yet.” He glared at Natasha from the corner of his eye.

“Daddy, can you teach me something?” Sophie asks him as he sets her on her feet and kneels down in front of her.

“Of course, doll.” He says. She was always into reading and spelling, you think she got that from you. She likes to learn with Bucky, the daddy’s girl side of her. You would always find them around the apartment, reading easy-to-read books or him teaching her to spell or write or doing whatever she wanted to do.

After changing into a pair of jean shorts and one of Bucky’s sweatshirts that went past your shorts, just as you were walking out of your bathroom, you ran into Bucky. You looked up at him as he looked down at you with a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. You wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t yet. You walked past him into your bedroom as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. You grabbed your book and settled on the couch in your room by the window.

Bucky walked back out, shirtless and in gray sweatpants. You just had to look at your favorite outfit on him. You could never help yourself when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He did it all the time too, knowing you loved it. He did it whenever there was no one in your apartment except you, him, and Sophie. That was almost all day, every day, always a nice sight to see.

He walked out of the room and you went back to reading, trying to focus. It was hard to focus back on something as simple as reading after seeing Bucky shirtless.

A little while later, you heard a loud squeaky laugh from the kitchen. You close your book, standing from your spot on the couch, you make your way quietly to the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest, watching the sweet sight of your husband and daughter sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Sophie sat in Bucky’s lap as they played around with the spelling letter magnets on the fridge. You couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky just finished teaching Sophie how to spell the word ‘perfect’. He told her to sound it out, first asking her what sound a cat makes.

Just then, Bucky looks up at you, and as your eyes meet, your face fell as fast as your smile came when you saw Bucky and Sophie together. You turn around and make your way back to your room.

“Hey, Soph, how about you go and wash up for dinner?” Bucky tells her, helping her up from his lap. “Okay, daddy.” She smiles, giggling as she runs off. He could never hold back a smile whenever she called him daddy. It would never get old for him.

Bucky made his way to his room, longing for his wife that he hasn’t talked to since that morning. He walks in quietly, careful not to scare her like he does more than he would like. He always found it cute how jumpy she was.

He finds his wife sitting on their bed, back facing him. He knew what she was doing. She didn’t have her phone or a book in her hands. She just sat there thinking like he found her doing a lot. Bucky climbs up behind her, pulling her hair back and placing a soft kiss on her neck.

“Bucky…” She starts.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I know how you are and how you feel about yourself and I just didn’t know what I was thinking.” Bucky interrupted her. He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. “I’m sorry about what that woman said. If I had known, I would’ve done something about it.”

“I just thought… I thought you understood.” You told him, your voice quiet as you looked down at your hands, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“Y/N, baby, I do understand. I really do. The only reason I don’t think it’s a big deal is that I always see you the same in my eyes.” Bucky paused as he lifted your chin to look into his eyes. “You will always be and I will always see you as beautiful as you were when I first met you, no matter what. And I will always love you, baby.” He finished as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. He rid away some of the stray tears, though more kept coming. But, instead of the sad tears, they were happy tears.

“Besides, all of this,” he slid his hand up my shirt and set his hand on my belly. “It came from the birth of our baby girl. So, there’s no reason to feel insecure about it, baby. It’s a good thing.” He told you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your belly.

“I love you so much, Buck.” You said as he came back up. You leaned in, your hand on the back of his neck. Your lips met in a sweet, loving kiss.

“Forever, Y/N. I love you.” He said, your foreheads pressed against each other.

Just then, you heard pots and pans banging against each other from the kitchen.

“I think our daughter is getting hungry.” You giggled, bringing a smile to Bucky’s lips. He couldn’t get enough of your smile or your laugh or your anything.

You stood up, ready to make whatever your daughter wanted.

“Y/N, can I just say one thing?” Bucky asked just before you turned the corner to your bedroom door. You turned towards him with a questionable expression.

“That cute ass of yours is not helping the way I feel right now. Especially since I haven’t touched you much today.” He states as he stood up and walked to you. His hands ran up your - his - sweatshirt and planted themselves on your bare waist. He felt you tense in his grasp. You still felt a little sensitive and insecure when he touched the places that held that extra bit of weight.

“Don’t worry, baby. Don’t feel insecure.” He whispered into your ear. “You’re so beautiful. Every inch, every bit of you, I can’t get enough.” Bucky finished. You looked up at him, a somewhat seductive smile on your lips. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You felt his hand travel further down towards your ass and into your back pocket.

You leaned back a bit. “Dinner first, my love. Then, maybe we can do some of that later.” You told your husband. You loved watching him the way he was. You loved that he longed for you. You slid your hand into his and led him out to the kitchen where you find your daughter starting to put ingredients together for dinner. You knew she was going to take after Bucky in the cooking department. You and Bucky watched her, a smile on both your faces. You leaned into Bucky, one hand on his chest along with your head and his arm around your waist. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your head.

Note: My apologies if I've missed changing any of the name "Katie" to "Y/N". I write my stories as myself and then change my name to Y/N once I put it on Tumblr. Please don't discriminate my writing if I did miss something here or on any of my future/ other stories. I don't mean to. Thanks for reading and I hope y'all like my stories!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan imagines #fluff #midsize reader

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patchofsunlight · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Eyes | Sokka x Fem!Reader

Hello! This is my first ever imagine and I have no idea of what I’m doing, but I guess that’s the beauty of it all, right? So here we go!

SUMMARY: Y/N and Sokka do not get on well. That changes, however, after one particular night.

WORD COUNT: 6k I’m not used to writing oneshots it got so long I’m sorry if the “keep reading” thingy doesn’t work

WARNINGS: there’s a bit of kissing at the end? also I think there’s one or two cuss words. there’s some angst and mutual pining, since it’s an enemies-to-lovers. Toph is Y/N’s best friend bc I love her. and bad writing! I think it feels kinda rushed and English is not my first language so I’m not really sure how to feel about this tbh

I hope you like it! Also if you want to request something please do just ask me what I write for and I’ll tell you!!

Y/N definitely did not regret leaving Zuko and joining the Avatar and his team. It was probably the best thing she had ever done, the first step to finally forgiving herself for all the years she worked for the Fire Nation and for all the pain she caused alongside it, the first step to letting go of all the hurt she held inside her heart.

But Spirits, she couldn’t take Sokka’s attitude anymore.

“We can’t let Y/N go to the city alone, it’s a three day trip! What if she tells her Fire Nation friends we are here?”

He was the only one who hadn’t warmed up to her yet. Toph had taken a liking to her almost immediately, which Y/N firmly believed was for the sole reason of spiting Sokka, but she didn’t exactly mind. Toph was the first person to treat her like a human being and not an enemy, and she was deeply thankful for that. The first few weeks with Team Avatar were difficult — the Water Tribe people didn’t trust her, Aang was unconscious, Katara was going crazy with worry for her friend, and Sokka accused her of being a Fire Nation spy every two seconds. Siding with the Avatar in the crystal cave had done nothing for her reputation, it seemed: she was still Zuko’s friend, still a bad person, still Fire Nation scum, among other endearing titles.

Katara came around eventually, while Aang was still recovering from his injuries. At one point, the waterbender told her she was the only one not pissing her off in the Water Tribe boat they occupied, which made her smile.

And Aang, well, he was a sweetheart. She would never forget the way the small boy laughed loudly after Katara told him how she punched Azula in the face after the Fire Princess hit him with lightning, kindly leaving out the part where Azula immediately gave her a nasty burn after recovering from the surprise of a fist to the nose.

“Come on, Sokka,” Katara countered, rolling her eyes in annoyance, “we’ve talked about this.”

Then there was Sokka, who still pretty much hated her, even as they now hid inside the Fire Nation together. “You know I’m right, Katara. You should go with her to make sure she doesn’t turn her back on us.”

“You guys know she is right here, right? Are you ignoring her or something?”

“It’s okay, Toph,” Y/N touched the girl’s arm fondly, avoiding the glare Sokka sent her way. “You don’t need to worry..”

“No, it’s not okay!” Katara snapped, letting go of the shirt she was stitching up and staring at her brother angrily. “Why don’t you go with her, then, if you’re so worried?”

“That seems like a good idea!” Aang smiled brightly from his place beside Appa. “It could be a fun bonding trip!”

“No!” Sokka and Y/N said almost at the exact time before exchanging a very confused look. Something seemed to ignite inside him just as he turned to glower at her with rage in his eyes. “Why don’t you want me to go, firegirl? Is it because I’m right?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you are a jerk to her all the time, but okay,” Toph muttered. Katara bit back a snicker, taking the shirt from the ground and trying to focus on it again.

“Well, I’m going,” Sokka announced, crossing his arms, “since she’s hiding things from us and trying to go to the city alone.”

“I am not hiding anything! No one else wanted to go to the city so I volunteered, it’s not that deep.”

“Well, then why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

“I don’t know, Sokka, why do you accuse me of being a traitor all the time?”

“That’s got nothing to do with this! But you did betray Zuko, who was supposed to be your boyfriend or whatever—”

“Zuko was not my boyfriend.”

“— and once a traitor, always a traitor.”

“That’s enough!” Katara interrupted, annoyance written all over her face. “We chose Y/N to make the trip to the city and I can’t take being near Sokka anymore, so you two will leave right now to get us supplies, food and clothes. Do you understand?”

“I—”

“I don’t care, Sokka! Go get your things, see you in three days.”

------

Sokka wasn’t really sure why he hated Y/N so much anymore. Hell, he was even starting to think he might actually enjoy her presence, in a way. Not that he would tell that to anyone.

She was still the enemy, even while Katara laughed at something she said and Toph clinged to her, talking her ears off about whatever was going on through her mind. She was still the enemy when Aang asked to braid her hair and when she talked to Appa and Momo while she thought no one noticed. Y/N was still the enemy while her eyes shone with delight whenever Toph made a joke and while she smiled that pretty smile of hers at Aang, and she was definitely still the enemy when his heart skipped a beat whenever she accidently looked at him without that angry look he always managed to put on her face.

Yes, Sokka didn’t like her in any way. He couldn’t like her, he refused to like her. She was from Fire Nation. Even if the others accepted her, he knew the truth — Y/N would never be trustworthy, would never be one of them.

The caves they were currently hiding in were Fire Nation territory, and the trip towards the city was long, specially since they couldn’t use Appa. After two miles, Sokka was already bored.

“Is your Fire Nation home close by?” he questioned, a hint of accusation in his voice. Y/N didn’t spare him a glance and, for some unknown reason, Sokka felt annoyed by it.

“No.”

“Well, then where is it?” he pressed, staring at her.

“Where is what?”

“Your Fire Nation home.”

“I don’t have one, Sokka. Are you done?”

The Water Tribe warrior scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “you don’t have one, firegirl? Yeah, right. I’m sure you lived in a big house where everyone did every little thing you wanted them to,” he watched as she sighed, her eyes flooding with irritation, “am I wrong?”

It was her turn to scoff, “shut up, waterboy.”

He raised his eyebrows, “waterboy?”

“Come on, the quicker we do this the quicker I can be away from you. We have no time to lose.”

------

They set up camp in the woods near a small village halfway to the city. While walking, they didn’t speak much besides Sokka’s stupid questions and Y/N’s dry answers — he noticed how she acted different now they were alone together, almost as if she had closed up on herself and, ignoring the stinging in his chest, he wondered if she would ever smile and laugh with him the way she did with the Aang, Toph and Katara. With a certain heaviness to his thoughts, Sokka concluded that no, she probably wouldn’t. Not that he cared, obviously.

“I can do first watch,” he let her know, watching carefully as Y/N yawned and arranged her sleeping bag on the hard ground.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll wake you up when it’s my turn to sleep.”

Y/N nodded, falling asleep almost instantly as she laid her head down. When she slept, she didn’t look like a traitor as much as she usually did. She looked like a normal, beautiful girl he would really love to get to know better. But of course he couldn’t, because she was from the Fire Nation and would eventually betray them all, or at least that’s what Sokka told himself to avoid getting too close, too attached. Spirits, he had lost so many people that adding one more person in his care-about list was unthinkable, unreasonable and just all-around stupid.

Sokka wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Y/N started moving in her sleep, her previously peaceful expression now filled with anxiety and fear as she turned and tossed. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her curiously.

“No,” he could hear her mutter, “please, no. Please.”

“Y/N?” his voice was calm as he knelt down by her sleeping bag, recognizing the signs of a nightmare. “Y/N, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried out, her eyelids shut tight, “please. I’m sorry!”

“Y/N!”

The girl sat up suddenly, hitting her forehead with his. Sokka groaned at the sudden pain, bringing a hand up to his forehead and touching it lightly. Meanwhile, Y/N took in her surroundings, her breathing heavy. She could already feel a lump forming inside her throat.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, finally noticing her panicked motions and moving forward to touch her shoulder but hesitating. Sokka would usually greet her with a mean comment, but he could see the nervousness on her face and it worried him. “Do you need some water?”

“No, I’m good,” she swallowed, trying to slow down her breathing. “I just—just got a nightmare.”

“I noticed,” the Water Tribe warrior smiled sadly, “I get those too.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, trying to wrap her head around the fact Sokka was actively being nice to her. It felt weird but had a kind of warmth taking over her chest that she didn’t mind one bit.

He scratched the back of his neck, staring at her while she kept her eyes trained on her own hands, “do you want to talk about it?” He noticed her intrigued expression and sighed, going on, “Katara always tells me that talking about nightmares makes them go away. So… Do you want to talk about yours?”

Y/N looked at him attentively, searching for some type of mockery or teasing on his face. Sokka seemed to blush under her gaze, but she was sure it was just the moonlight tricking her eyes. Y/N exhaled deeply, crossing her arms in a defensive stance and biting down on her lower lip as she couldn’t find any bad intention in his gaze, deciding to share some of the vulnerability he was offering her. “It was just something that happened some years ago. Before I left with Zuko, I mean.”

He nodded, leaning on his hands with his arms straight while sat beside her, “I never understood why you left with him, to be honest,” he commented, “he doesn’t seem like the fun type.”

Y/N let out a small smile and Sokka could swear his heart jumped inside his chest for some reason, “he was never the fun type, but he was still my best friend, even though banishment changed him. But I didn’t leave just because of Zuko.”

That was new information. “You didn’t?”

She shook her head, looking down at her hands again, “no.”

“Then why?”

Sokka observed as her entire body tensed and felt the immediate urge to apologize for the question and tell her to go back to sleep. Before he could open his mouth, however, she answered in a broken voice that sounded nothing like her own, “I couldn’t stay. My dad had just died in the war and my mom…” her eyes were full of anguish and misery, still watching her fingers lock and unlock, “she wasn’t doing very well. My nightmare,” she hesitated, inhaling sharply before training her gaze on him again, “it was about her.”

They looked at each other, lazy eyes studying faces with a new curiosity and innocence they hadn’t held for one another before. Something flashed through Y/N’s expression before she asked, averting her pretty eyes from him, “do you want to see it?”

Sokka furrowed his brows in confusion, “see what?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath before raising her tunic slightly. The Water Tribe boy felt his whole face flush with embarrassment but he noticed the marks before he could look away — something that must’ve been a horrible burn, the scar covering a great part of her right side, stretching from her bellybutton to just under her chest. “Iroh spent a lot of time changing mine and Zuko’s bandages in the first months after we left,” she smiled sadly and then put her clothes back into place.

“Your mom did that?”

“She didn’t mean to,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “it was an accident, but still. Whenever I think about it, I’m really glad I was born a non-bender.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Having the power to cause so much pain and destruction… I wouldn’t want that in anyway.”

Sokka hummed in understanding and appreciation. He knew she was a non-bender like him but they had never really talked about what that meant to them and to Team Avatar. He wasn’t aware she didn’t crave bending like he did, but it felt nice to hear her speak about it like that.

Showing someone her scar felt… Different, but not a bad different. Y/N had grown accustomed to hiding it all the time, even though she didn’t feel ashamed of it. It was just an ugly part of her that held too many bad memories that she intended to keep to herself. Letting Sokka see it was strange and she didn’t know exactly why she did it, to be honest. It felt right, though. Talking to him like they were friends felt right. Being around him like that felt very, very right.

“You should sleep, waterboy,” she punched his shoulder softly, ignoring her own thoughts, “I’ll keep guard for the rest of the night.”

He was quick to deny, “no, I’m fine, you should—”

“Sokka,” her tone was demanding, “you need to rest too. Come on, get some sleep. I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again anyway.”

He would love to disagree but he recognized the look on her face. She wasn’t asking him to sleep — she was telling him to. For some reason, that thought made him smile.

“Okay,” Sokka answered quietly as he got into his own sleeping bag, “good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sokka. Sleep well.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“It’s alright.”

------

The rest of the trip was better than expected. It seemed like that one vulnerable moment they shared affected their relationship in more ways than one, and they traveled peacefully to the city and back. They even managed to spark conversation with each other in some instances.

Sokka would love to say that being in good terms with Y/N made him satisfied, but that would be a lie. Aang, Katara and Toph were really happy with their new dynamic, glad they could talk to each other without mean comments or accusations — Y/N and Sokka were the only ones inside the Gaang who still had to become friends, and now that they did, everyone seemed pleased and content.

Except Sokka.

Being around her was difficult. Now that he didn’t expect the worst of her all the time, he couldn’t ignore what he felt whenever she was close by, the sensations he once thought were just his way of feeling disgust and anger taking a different shape. He would catch himself smiling stupidly at her while she laughed with someone else and would feel his whole face reddening when she looked into his eyes. However, he remembered very clearly the last time he felt something like that, and it didn’t end well. He couldn’t have that again.

Avoiding her was even more difficult and he couldn’t keep it up for a single day. After finally being able to taste what a friendship with Y/N felt like, he couldn’t stop from craving it more and more. Instead of being away from her like he intended so he could get rid of whatever feelings he was gathering, he actively went out of his way to be near her, even when his mind screamed at him to just let go.

Sokka couldn’t get attached to someone like that once more. He couldn’t forget what happened to Yue — liking someone was not his cup of tea, it would end tragically and he didn’t want it, couldn’t have it, not again.

But a part of him entertained these feelings, these thoughts. It didn’t matter, right? She would never feel the same for him, so it was okay. He wouldn’t get hurt because he would never actually have her so there was no way to lose her.

Right?

------

Everything happened fast.

They didn’t think the Fire Nation soldiers would find them anytime soon and yet they still did. They were nearing the Day of the Black Sun and being found out in Fire Nation territory was less than ideal, to say the least. Y/N was just glad they had Toph, Aang and Katara to fight for them — they were truly amazing benders and there were many more soldiers than she would normally expect.

Everything happened too fast.

She had been taught from a young age how to fight with a sword and was slowly trying to teach Sokka too, even though teaching was proving itself to be harder than learning. They fought from the sidelines, hitting the soldiers the three benders couldn’t hit or see. One of them had a sword too and Y/N rapidly engaged in a difficult fight while also keeping an eye out for Sokka, who was fighting another soldier to her right.

She couldn’t deny the feelings growing inside her towards the boy. Weeks before, she would have straight up laughed if anyone told her she would fall for him, and now there she was. Y/N loved his smile and his voice and his stupid jokes and the way he called her “firegirl” with an endearing tone instead of the accusative one he used to always have when talking to her only weeks before. She loved how his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him for too long and she loved hearing him go on and on about his plans and theories. She loved it all so much she didn’t even mind Toph’s constant teasing: “Calm down your heart, Y/N,” the younger girl would say with a mocking smile, “it’s just Sokka!”

“Shut up, Toph.”

Y/N knew he would never feel the same, but a girl can dream, and dream she did. They would talk late into the night, guarding camp together and exchanging childhood stories. Being around him was very comforting, in a way.

Everything happened fast.

She got distracted when the soldier battling against Sokka seemed to get the upper hand, even though Sokka fought back and took control of the conflict again easily. However, that instant was enough for her own enemy to attack.

The pain was unbearable but Y/N kept on fighting. There was blood running down her skin, staining her clothes, the wound to her ribs deep and distressing, but she couldn’t leave her friends like that. She manipulated her sword the best she could, ignoring the sharp pain felt with every intake of breath, taking down as many non-bender soldiers as possible.

They ran for Appa when there was finally an opening, climbing onto the flying bison and leaving the remaining Fire Nation soldiers behind them.

Adrenaline was responsible for making her able to endure the pain but now that they were safe and flying while Aang and Katara disguised Appa as clouds, her vision went out of focus and she stumbled, clinging to Toph’s arm in a last attempt to remain conscious and alert. “Y/N? Are you alright?” the girl asked confusedly, her brows furrowed in question.

“Yes,” Y/N was able to get one word out, even though her thoughts were getting messier by the second and black dots appeared before her eyes. “Just tired,” she muttered. It was true — she could feel exhaustion taking over her body and head, slowly making her slump over herself.

She felt like her body was on fire, almost as if she had been burned all over. The pain made it hard to concentrate, her mind trained on the feeling of blood soaking her tunic, every breath causing waves of agony to take over her. The stab wound seemed to be throbbing, unabling her of any coherent thought.

“You sure? You seem—Spirits! Katara, come here! Y/N was wounded! She is bleeding!”

A part of her brain registered a touch to her ribs, Toph’s small hands hanging over her with no idea of what to do. She could hear Katara’s voice from somewhere on her right but she knew Katara needed to keep up their cover alongside Aang. They couldn’t afford risking their disguise just yet, they were still too close to those soldiers.

(Or so she thought. She couldn’t be really sure, since her mind was clouded and she felt extremely confused, the black dots slowly taking over her vision until she saw nothing but unrecognizable shadows.)

Amongst the screams, there was Sokka. He had left his place guiding Appa and came running to her, horror written all over his face as he started to put pressure on her bleeding wound, following Katara’s instructions.

“You’re going to be okay,” his voice sounded weird, disconnected, out of place. Y/N wished she could see him properly. She had come to appreciate how beautiful he actually was, with his endearing smile and bright blue eyes. She really wished she could see him. “Stay awake for me, alright?”

“Waterboy,” she mumbled with a lazy smile before darkness consumed her entirely.

------

There was so much blood. Sokka could see how the water covering Katara’s hands was stained, he could see how soaked Y/N’s tunic was. He could see her, her skin so pale she almost looked dead. That thought alone made Sokka’s stomach turn over inside his body, his eyes stinging with anxious tears.

They did an emergency landing on a small island nearby, Katara trying to maintain their cover as Aang rushed to the reins Sokka had abandoned in his frenzy. Meanwhile, Sokka and Toph were screaming at each other in utter panic, trying desperately to help their friend somehow. His hands were still shaking and red from putting pressure on the wound like his sister had told him to.

“What is happening?” he stopped pacing as he heard Toph’s weak voice, the small girl playing with her own fingers in nervousness. “Is Katara’s healing working?”

There was ringing inside his ears as he stared at his sister. He could clearly see tears streaming down her face as she exchanged the red water on her hands for the clean one Aang had put on a container and positioned nearby. His heart throbbed inside his chest, a million thoughts going through his head at the same time.

Y/N was going to die. He was going to lose her. He would never see her smile again and he would never hear her laugh again and she would never tell him stories about her childhood again. He would never watch her as she played around with Toph and he would never be able to peek at her as she trained her sword fighting skills anymore. He would never talk to her late at night and he would never appreciate the way her voice sounded again.

He would never feel his heart pick up whenever she walked inside a room again. He would never smile unconsciously just by seeing her smile again. And she would never know how much she meant to him, how much he genuinely liked her and everything she did.�� He was going to lose her without even knowing if maybe, in a distant time, when the war was over and they were safe, she would want to stay with him, making him laugh and smiling that gorgeous smile of hers at him everyday. Sokka would never know if somehow she wanted him as much as he wanted her, with all his flaws and faults and fears.

He would never know and he would never have her by his side again and he wanted to scream until his throat was sore. He wanted to cry himself to sleep and pretend this was just a bad dream he would eventually wake up off hearing her beautiful laugh as she chatted with Katara and Toph during breakfast.

“Sokka? Please, tell me what is happening. How is Y/N?”

The Water Tribe warrior felt a sudden anger spark up inside him. He should’ve done something, he should’ve noticed she’d been hit, and so should the others. Weren’t they powerful benders? Couldn’t they sense everything through the earth or some other bullshit like that? Weren’t they better than him in every way? Well, they could have at least saved her.

“Shut up, Toph! This is your fault! You should have noticed she was wounded! You should have helped her before it was too late!”

He didn’t mean it. A part of him knew it was not her fault, but his brain was enveloped in pain and desperation and he just wanted someone to blame so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt forming in his chest. He was losing Y/N and there was nothing he could do about it.

Toph went from worried to pissed off quickly, tightening her hands in fists and sending a few rocks flying towards the sea surrounding the island, “how is this my fault?! I was fighting off a few soldiers too, you know? It’s not like I could have stopped everything I was doing and ran to her!”

He moved his arms around frantically, “you don’t even care about her!”

“I don’t care about her? She’s my best friend!”

“You obviously didn’t care enough to help!”

“Oh, you little—”

“That’s enough!” Katara’s voice sounded fragile but terrifying, averting her gaze from her bloody hands to glare at them. “I can’t concentrate with all this screaming!”

“Sokka started it!”

“I don’t care who started it!” she barked, her eyes burning with rage. “Get out!”

Sokka opened his mouth to oppose, feeling his entire body tense with the idea of being away from Y/N in such a moment, but didn’t get to as Aang took a hold of his arm and started to lead him towards somewhere else on the beach. Toph groaned in frustration before leaving in the opposite direction.

“You need to calm down,” Aang sounded serene while dragging his friend through the sand, “arguing is not going to get us anywhere. We need to be together right now to get through this.”

The Avatar turned to look at Sokka when he planted his feet in place, tears flooding his eyes. It almost seemed like Aang was telling him how they had to support each other through their upcoming grief.

He was going to lose her. Damn, he had probably already lost her. She was gone and she would never know.

“Sokka? Are you okay?”

“I—” he hesitated, trying so hard not to cry he could feel his head throb. “I don’t—,” he swallowed harshly, but the lump in his throat didn’t go away, “I can’t lose her, Aang,” his voice cracked miserably and he gave up on holding back his heartache, letting the tears fall down his face. A sob wrecked his body and a hint of understanding went through Aang’s eyes, the smaller boy coming closer to hold his forearms.

“You’re not going to lose her, Sokka. Katara is going to fix it and she’ll be okay.”

“No, she won’t,” it was getting hard to breathe between his cries, but if felt better than pretending everything was okay, “she’s gone. And I—I think I’m in love with her, and she’ll never know. She’ll die and she’ll never know.”

“Sokka—”

“This is what happens every time I have feelings for someone. I lost Yue and now Y/N too.”

“Sokka, your feelings for Yue weren’t responsible for what happened to her. She told you not to be afraid of love, remember? I’m sure she is proud of you for moving on and falling in love with Y/N, and if we lose Y/N, your feelings will not be to blame either. But we won’t, okay? Katara is going to save her, I promise. She will be fine and you will be able to tell her how you feel. Do you understand?”

Sokka felt himself crumble in pain, another sob escaping his lips as Aang hugged him tightly. He cried loudly, holding onto his friend for dear life.

“Y/N will be okay, Sokka. She is strong and she would never leave us like that, okay? Never. I promise.”

------

When Y/N opened her eyes, it was already dark. A tent had been put up around her, but she noticed the cold night breeze even before she saw the starry sky.

She took notice of the neat bandages covering her stab wound. There was a soreness to her every movement, but the searing pain from before was gone. She exhaled deeply and tried to sit but quickly gave up at the ache that formed in her ribs. Lying on the sand, she breathed slowly.

“Y/N?” she turned her head towards the direction of who was calling her and found Toph’s grey eyes. The small girl seemed tired, rubbing the sleep of her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows as she called again, “Y/N, are you awake? I thought I heard something.”

“Hey. I’m awake,” she smiled softly, moving her arm the tiniest bit just so she could touch her friend’s leg.

Toph immediately gave her the biggest smile, jumping up from her spot sitting down to try and hug her friend carefully, “Never do that again, you idiot!” a weak chuckle escaped Y/N as she tried to hug back, but it hurt too much. Toph didn’t mind. “You got us all so worried! Aang went crazy trying to keep everyone calm, Katara cried a whole lot, and Sokka got so nervous he screamed at me. He apologized, though, so I’m not angry at him anymore,” Toph widened her eyes in realization, “I have to tell them you’re finally awake! Wait here, I’ll come back in a second. Try not to get stabbed in the meantime.”

Y/N giggled at her words, sighing as she found herself alone in the tent. For a second, she let herself wonder: she wouldn’t be up and about for a while, that much was obvious. However, Team Avatar couldn’t deal with that kind of liability and she asked herself what they were going to do about it.

Aang was the first to arrive, hugging her so tight Katara started screaming at him to be mindful of her injuries as soon as she reached the entrance. They spoke briefly about the gravity of her wound and Katara scolded her for not telling them she had been stabbed sooner while Aang and Toph bit back their laughter.

“Y/N?” Sokka’s hoarse voice was enough to make silence ring through the tent, the bags under his eyes dark and unmissable. Y/N met his blue eyes, her heart clenching painfully when she noticed the bare sadness inside them.

Katara cleared her throat, grabbing Aang and Toph gently and steering them outside, “we’ll be handling the supplies if you need us!”

“What? I want to stay with Y/N!”

“Spirits, Toph, shut up.”

The Fire Nation girl smiled at the arguing outside, averting his trained gaze. An awkward quiet settled between them — Y/N didn’t know exactly why there was such a heaviness to the air they shared, but it was too clear to ignore.

“I—” he hesitated, a crack to his words as he closed his eyes tightly. “You really scared me today.”

Y/N tried to sit up, frowning from the pain. Sokka immediately knelt down next to her to help and it felt too much like the night he first woke her up from a nightmare, saying soft words and treating her nicely. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, holding onto his forearms for support, “I didn’t exactly mean to.”

“I know,” he muttered in response, sitting down in front of her. She crossed her legs under her and they stared at each other for a few moments, thick tension surrounding them. She couldn’t help but notice how close they were to each other, so close she didn’t have to lean in too much for their lips to touch. Slowly and unsurely, Sokka brought his hand up to put a lock of hair away from her face. Her stomach fluttered at the touch and Y/N sighed happily. “I was just afraid.”

She blinked in soft confusion that made his insides bloom with butterflies, “afraid of what?”

“Of losing you.”

She smiled, “You know Katara would heal me, Sokka.”

“I care about you very much, Y/N,” the words stumbled out of his mouth while she stared, “more than I probably should, but I do. You,” he shook his head, hesitantly taking his hand away from her face and wiping the tears that had escaped his eyes, “you mean a lot to me.”

His heart seemed to burn while she took his hand in hers, squeezing it delicately, “you mean a lot to me too.”

He exhaled deeply, frustrated to no end. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. I—damn, I don’t even know how to say this.”

“I get it.”

“You don’t. You have no idea how broken I was just by thinking of not having you around anymore. I was so scared. I thought I would never be able to tell you how I feel about you,” he let out a shaky breath before leading his eyes back to her face, “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

He groaned, “no, Y/N. I mean that I like you.”

“Yes, I understood that much.”

“No, I mean I—” he was interrupted by her soft lips on his, moving so gently he was sure he could die from the sheer tenderness of it all. Sokka was fast to kiss her back, bringing his fingers up to hold her jaw while her hands went up to his hair, a sharp pain running through her body at the movement and making her hiss. He moved away instantly, but her arms held him close. Their noses were still touching and they breathed heavily, eyes trained on each other.

She smirked, “is that what you meant?”

He chuckled weakly, rubbing circles on her jaw fondly with his thumb, “yeah. You’re way better at confessions than I am.”

Y/N threw her head back in laughter and he grinned at her happiness, “why, thank you.”

The couple gazed at each other, eyes sparkling with love. She sighed before leaning in and giving him a quick peck, giggling when his lips followed her blindly as she distanced her face from his. Sleepiness was catching up to her from the exhaustion of being hurt.

“Come on, waterboy. Lay with me.”

Sokka helped her lay back down, lying beside her and feeling his cheeks flush with delight when she snuggled up to him, getting into a comfortable spot with her head placed on his chest. He carefully positioned his hands on her waist, stroking her side absentmindedly. Her eyes fluttered close with satisfaction.

“Did Katara ask about your scar?”

“Not really. I think she was too worried trying to save me from death and all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was.”

She grinned, moving to play with his hair and exhaling contently, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He tightened his hold around her, warmth coating his every touch, “so am I, firegirl. So am I.”

In that moment, Y/N cared for nothing but the way his skin felt on hers and the sound of his heart beating under her ear.

so I asked @azucanela @beifongsss and @sokkascroptop on anon if I could tag them when this was done and they said yes so here it is? please give me honest criticism I have no idea of what I’m doing and I admire you all very much thank you!!

#sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #sokkagang #gaang x reader #toph x reader #toph beifong #i have no idea what i’m doing #is it good? who knows #katara #aang #sokka x fem! reader #sokka x f!reader #fire nation reader

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thefanbasewhore · 4 years ago

Text

United as One. || Part 3

Summary: Din tries to fix what he can while another Mandalorian clan leader comes to visit and the leader tends to find an interest in the reader.

Warning/Content: Soft!Din (as if I have to say it), angst, nsfw for hand job, a little bit of dirty talk but not much and mentions of death.

A/N: I also do not write smut often so bare with me I tried lol, but sorry It took so long !

Tag list here || Part 2. || Masterlist.

The room was engulfed in complete darkness, peaceful sleep finally washing over after hours of crying eventually her eyes hurt too much to keep open. Thankfully with sleep came an escape from reality, all problems momentarily gone. That’s until a soft whisper tickles her neck, it’s soothing, fingers tangle into hair, nails scratching her scalp but also makes her jump, eyes opening wide for the source of danger.

“It’s me, it’s just me.” Din is breathless, trying to sooth her with words. Nothing is said, there’s complete darkness except the little light the moon offers. It outlines the soft curve of his nose, shadow of his lips, just enough to see but not enough to commit to memory what the Mandalorian looks like. “Our son.” He pauses, “Grogu wants you.”

It’s not a complete lie but the only excuse he can think of to see her, it was very late. The celebration had finally ended, the night dragged but he still found himself right where he wanted to be. For some reason he can’t find the right words to say. “Cyar'ika, I -.”

“Save it Din, give me him.” His mouth shuts at her words, the darkness blocked any clues, any way her face would form to show her emotions but he felt it in her words. There were no more tears, it’s replaced with hot, firey anger.

Grogu without a second though climbs from Din’s hand and lays against her chest, a soft coo of acknowledgement. Right where he wanted to be.

“For you.” Din’s word peak an interest, eyes meeting his in pure instinct despite the darkness. Something cold, sharp is pressed into her hand. It takes a few minutes of feeling it to realize what it was, the signet that was wrapped around the blonde’s neck made her scowl but he couldn’t see it. “I want you to wear it, I made her give it back. I don’t want -.”

For the second time tonight he’s cut off by words that hiss venom. “You give me something you made for her?”

With those words he realizes what a stupid idea it was, he’s speechless at his own Idiocracy. To be fair though, he wasn’t thinking about anything but her, only trying to make her happy. To escape this feeling of his heart breaking inside his chest, it seems almost unavoidable.

“I’m sorry.” Words are breathless, his apology makes her sigh. No words could fix this, mend the hole in her heart, the betrayal she feels. “I can’t control these things, they were made thousands of years ago. I must honor the way of the Mandalorian, that entitles a riduur and a breeder. I want to.. for you but I can’t, this is the best I can do.” Fingers apply pressure to the beskar in her hand, the coolness making her shiver.

Din is still on his knees on the floor, elbows leaning on the bed, her face, at least he thinks it’s her face only inches apart.

“Why did you bring me here?” It’s asked again. All the days seemed to form together, a promise of a future with Din made it manageable but suddenly it’s suffocating. “You didn’t once bother tell me how it was going to be. You knew they wouldn’t accept me because I’m not a Mandalorian, I would be challenged, I will never be accepted as part of your clan.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” He selfishly admits, his own voice chokes with emotion. Tears sting against his own waterline. Maybe it was the long night, but it felt like forever since he’s seen her, talked to her. It makes him emotional, the turmoil he’s caused so far; it was his fault. He was to blame.

“So you sentence me to this?” Din’s eyes squeeze shut, they are so close.. but miles away. “I want to leave.”

“Please.” He begs, “Just try. It’s hard to understand why but it’s the way of the mandalorian, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m sick of hearing that!” Her voice rises, she almost sits up to show how much she means if but she feels the child twitch against her chest. “Maker, I would be happy not to see another Mandalorian again.”

“You don’t mean that.” Din’s lays his forehead against the edge of the bed, only inches away from her body. “I don’t like hearing you like this.”

She can’t see it but he’s pressing his two fingers against his chest superficial to where his heart beats. “It hurts me.”

Silence is all he’s given, his cheek lays flat against the mattress as his hand reaches for the signet. “You’re right, it isn’t made for you. Nothing in the whole universe can be made into what I feel for you.”

Din does not give her the opportunity to talk, “My eyes are dark brown. This you know but..”

The hand nudging hers open again to feel the weight of circular plastic, enough to fill her hand. “I want to show them to you.”

They’re the beads of the woman but now any claim he’s ever had is gone; no sign of him on her person. Fingers tip under her chin, “Turn the light on and look.”

“The creed.” The worried words make him sigh, slowly leaning against her neck, forehead against her cheek.

“I have an obligation to my clan, I must lead them but for you, to show my love for you I’ll have you something no one else has. Look at my face Sweetheart, I want you too..” he pauses, “See the color with your own eyes, seeing my eyes only belongs to you. Don’t leave, stay with me.”

It’s desperate and considering the situation absolutely necessary. Truthfully Din is getting frustrated, it shows in the tears that sting his waterline, in the way he squeezes the sheets of the bed with clenched fists. Shoulders are weighed down, all the responsibility of his clan, trying to make the girl understand.. It’s too much, there is no way to give honor to the clan, no one to honor her. He’s torn, an internal fight against what he knows his right but his heart hurts, but cannot let her go.

“See me the way no one else does.” It’s a plea, throat full with emotion, his own way asking her to say. “Please.. it’s all I can give.”

It’s more silence but the way they press into his cheeks makes him whine, a small cry of relief. There was no more coldness lingering in the air as she sits up, his head resting against her inner thigh, fingers start scratching his scalp.

Maybe it’s the desperate tone, the hot tears hitting her cheek but she leans over pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Din.. it’s okay.”

“It’s not, you hate it here.” He pauses, “You’re miserable, it’s not fair and I don’t want you to go.. I feel selfish Mesh’la.”

Hot tears flush his skin, the stress was too much, building up slowly with his own clans disappointment in him, the girl he’s loves finally with him where he belongs but his own people keen on breaking them apart.

“Stay here with me.. it will get better I promise. Asher means nothing to me.. she is a means to an future but she is not mine, you are.”

She silent, deep in thought as fingers pause their movement causing Din to nudge closer into her palm. Tips of dark ringlets tickle her fingers. The mention of another’s name from his lips squeezes her heart. “Cyar'ika.. please stay.”

She was upset, there was no question about it but these few hours alone allowing so much time to just think. It wasn’t Din fault, he must do right by his clan and that means insuring a future by claiming a breeder, despite not liking it, she couldn’t find herself to blame him. He tried to make it better taking his claim back, the signet thrown lazily next to them proves it, the small pile of dark beads that not scatter the floor, an act of service to show his love. It probably wasn’t a good idea, the elders will definitely have words to say but Din didn’t care, anything to fix the gaping hole that occupied where his heart should be.

“Okay..” it’s soft.. unsure but he swears that he’ll do anything to keep her here. The darkness of the room doesn’t show it but Din’s chest finally let’s out a breath of air. “I can’t promise anything.. but I will try Din.”

“Can I come up there with you?”

“You don’t have to ask Din. It’s your bed.”

Din stands on shaky legs but curls up next to his girl, for the first time tonight not aching with sadness, anxiety. There’s a shift in the air, it’s no longer tense but filled with comfortable silence. “I want you to have a safe space here, this could be yours. I don’t have to be here.”

Before she can argue his arms pull her into his chest, no doubt the clay smears against skin. Any reasonable person would think the basker it cold, and uncomfortable but it’s quite the opposite; soft, warmth against her cheek despite the small hairs that tickle her forehead but instinctively presses a soothing kiss to his chin.

Fingers soak against her skin, up and down the think of her forearm as deep and shallow breaths calm him down. Despite the fact she chose to forgive him, his heart is still stammering inside his chest.

“Look at me, see me the way no one else does.” It’s so easy to give up the creed, it’s all for her. He has no doubt that she will accept his offer of marriage, it may take time but he won’t give up.

“I don’t want to.” She pauses, “I don’t want to be the reason you disappoint your clan anymore then necessary.”

Din doesn’t know what to say. He’s happy at the answer but kind of hoped she did open her eyes, relieve him of this weight of the creed. “If you marry me.. you’ll be able to see whenever you want. It won’t break my creed.”

“I don’t think that’s for the best.” It’s finally said with his future’s best interest. The leader of the clan needed a strong queen, and will not accept anyone but Mandalorian like them. The way the elders talked about the marriage with her to Din was enough to know she will never be welcomed here, She would not be the reason for his shame.

“I was hoping you didn’t hear that.” She bites the inside of her cheek with heat that sears her face, not knowing what to say.

“Stay a little longer. If you decide you don’t want to marry me then I’ll bring you home myself. Be open minded with me. No matter how much I love you, I love you enough to let you go sweet girl. I want you to know that.” The words sting hard against both of their hearts, a large scar that would stay forever.

“I’ll stay with you.” While she doubts her mind will change, it hurts too much to think of a life without the Mandalorian, without Grogu. “I love you too Bear.”

The lips that meet hers are bruising, almost too rough as they show their appreciation but just enough that all air is knocked from her chest, heat sources from her stomach, setting cheeks ablaze. “Maker – you are so sweet, my sweet girl.”

“You – just always make me feel so…” He can’t put the feeling into words, how could he explain the thumping his chest every time she smiles? The instant warmth when her skin touches his own? There are no words that can explain the way his heat falters inside his chest, heat burns cheeks that it’s embarrassing, thankfully she can’t see. “Right…” Are the words he decided to go with, simple but they hold meaning. “It feels so right with you.”

***

Morning rolled around way too quick, the bright white light temporarily blinding the pair as the shift away from the window, it’s perfect sync the way his chest presses against her back and flushes against his skin, arms wrapping around her waist feel the warmth. Lips lay soft kisses against the skin of her shoulder with a soft sigh. “Goodmoring pretty girl.”

There’s a certain softness that lingers in the air, the vulnerability of last night weighs heavy but despite the tears when the morning light hits there’s hope, hope of holding onto what hangs by a thin thread.

Even though her eyes are open, she doesn’t dare turn due to the fear of too much light entering the room. Small, green fingers press against her cheeks with a soft coo, head tilting just enough so his head level with his mother. “Good morning bear..” Fingers stretching out to pull the child closer only to press a soft kiss to the talons of his fingers as she addresses him. “Hi little one, how long have you been up?”

Din doesn’t have to look at the child to know what he wants as he sighs, lips pressing into her neck to savior one more minute of her skin, her smell.

“Get ready, we will go get breakfast and go for a walk. I have something to show you."

***

After breakfast, making sure his girl and son are fed, he asks one of the others of the clan to watch the child, which is gladly accepted. It hurts, she’s glad for the little guy, how easily the clan wants him but can’t help but feel a little jealous, especially the looks they get as her and Din walk hand and hand into the forest.

During the little walk Din tells her stories of wondering in this exact forest, always getting in trouble for wondering too far, climbing trees that are too high, he’s always had that spark, the need to adventure, it’s no surprise why he left his home for so long.

The temple isn’t that big, small compared to the one she managed to squeeze into and interrupt the meeting between Din and the Elders yesterday but it’s older. The thickness and greenery of the forest had started to take it over, long vines and trees form into it, small peaks of gold and tan clay peek through, if it wasn’t for the sun hitting the peak of beskar at the point of the roof it would be impossible to even know it’s there.

Curious eyes peer back as she faces the helmet, through her own reflection she can see the way the sun beats down on her, eyes crystals as Din laces his fingers with her own guiding her towards the entrance with a, “Come, my love.”

The hall is dark, there’s no source of light until orange finger tips press into the side of his helmet where a small flash of light is orbited into the hall. There’s a few doors, old and withering but Din pulls her through one giant open arch and once entering the room she’s greeted with colorful bindings of books, covers made from bright oranges to dull browns, bookcases built into the clay walls surround her.

There’s a large book in particular, all alone on a podium that stands alone in the center of the room, it’s made from old leather, pages torn and weathered but the same symbol on the front cover is the necklace that is wrapped around Grogu’s neck from a piece of strand, the one Din has given him so long ago.

"This is my legacy.” Din’s fingers press against the small of her back, guiding slowly towards the old book. Orange fingertips run the binding, helmet looking back at her for confirmation. She nods unsurely as he flips it open, there’s scribbles, symbols in which she doesn’t understand but there’s pages and pages until he stops. There’s two words at the tops of the page, fingers trace the hydrographics as she catches the sigh under the vocoder. “I was not born a Mandalorian but the people who took me in, my father watched out for the clan before me. This is his name.”

There’s a line, different from all the others bold in the color red, the first of it’s kind as he traces it to the other word. “This is my name. Much like you, I was an outsider. I wasn’t part of the clan until I swore the creed.”

“You want me to swear the creed?”

“No mesh'la.” It’s amazing how clam and collective his is, never faltering from what he’s trying to explain just trying to get her to understand, feel what he’s trying to say. “The red line broke the first rule in the history of this clan, no outsider even a foundling is able to be Mand'lor but here I am.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are so worried about my name but being my wife will not shame me.” Din continues before any other words could be said, “You believe that you will make the clan dislike me but I have been shamed by whole life. My father made sure of that when he named me to suppress him as next Mand'lor. He broke the rule of only a child being born into a clan to be leader. He chose me.”

“Din you are a real -.”

“Shhhh. Let me finish.” A soft hand soothes the top of her head, words dying in her throat as he plays with the tips of her hair, smooth and untamed from just being thrown back into a messy updo. “My father is much like me. Him and my mom could not have children, they tried and tried. For pure respect for my mother he wouldn’t accept his breeder so he named me his son, it was against all rules, made me next in line.”

The red line almost represents how different he is, the target he still has on his back even though it was so many cycles ago. “You will not shame me, they already don’t accept me. They do not want me as their leader but not even the elders can take my title away only by a challenge but I don’t see that happening.”

He pauses, pressing closer until the helmet kisses the smooth skin of her cheek. “What I am trying to say is you don’t need to worry about my name, it’s already wrong to them, I will never be what they want.” His touch is soft, gentle as flat palms rub softly against shoulders, rubbing gently against her biceps, squeezing gently. “If it ever comes to it Grogu will be named by heir, I will not accept any breeder.”

The feeling in his own chest was heavy, crushing memories of teasing and unwanted stares as a child, he can still see some now as he walks through the small village, he was never meant to be here, he’s an outsider no matter how much he wants to believe less. “We are the same, except I am not more accepted because I am Mandalorian, while you are -”

“Not.” She finishes biting her lip with such intensity that the skin breaks, a small spot of blood appear but gloves press against her cheek, angling her face to meet his gaze, or which she guesses is his gaze.

“You will be if you marry me, they will have to accept you. It’s the creed.” Guilty eyes drops from his own, watching the way his chest moves under all the beskar, slow, nervous breaths but he understands. “You don’t need to answer me, I told you to think about it but just know, nothing in this world can come between us. No elders and especially no breeder, there’s no one else I want. For you I would do anything and if they means breaking all the rules and having my clan disapprove of me more I do not care.” Smooth fingers rub across cheek bones, a tickle of a smile against his features.

“You can’t see but I’m smiling. Just being here with you is enough for me.”

There’s a ghost of a one that makes her cheeks blush at his close proximity. “I bet it’s beautiful bear.”

There’s something sweet about the words, almost tooth rotting as his chest fills will molten lava, fingers sieving to take in the hit of them. Never had he heard such sweetness, such softness when it came to himself, it’s intoxicating, making him dizzy with want, eyes drop down to her lips, covering her eyes and reaching behind him to throw the helmet to the ground, not caring where it falls to press smooth lips against her own.

The air barely touched his face before he is tugging her forward, hand that once covered her eyes tangle her hair as their lips meet with a rush, feverish and filled with intensity. The force of his lips on hers, tongue meeting hers with such intensity it’s bruising but the only way he can pour his heart out. Hearts beating fast inside both of their chests, her own hands find the ringlets of his hair, tugging to deepen the kiss as fist tighten on his own end. Din tilts his head slightly, the bridge of his nose pressing against her nose bumping his own lips into her top one, tongue sliding against them with a deep moan but he stops - doesn’t pull away just enjoys the feeling of hers against his own.

At first she’s confused, breathless moving away but keeping her eyes closed but the heavy throbbing against her hip gives it away. Maker, he’s embarrassed, cheeks hot as he presses his own forehead against hers with a sigh. “I’m sorry -.”

“What are you sorry for?” She offers him a comforting smile, pressing a kiss against his cheek, it’s sweet. “There’s no reason.”

“So sweet.” The way she smiles against his skin, feeling his own dimples against her cheek as arms wrap tightly around the Mandalorian only to feel him squeeze back. “My sweet girl.”

***

By the time they get back darkness is starting to fall over the horizon, the large fire and a few torches light the way to home. Din has left a little over an hour ago, which is usually normal except for the fact that he said he’ll be right back with Grogu but still isn’t here.

She debates leaving, mostly because the glances and snarls that would follow her especially not be escorted by Din, but she’s worried. What if something happened to Din? Or worse Grogu?

Once again she was wondering down the lit up path, no one seemed to be around, a few children pause from their playing and smile at her but other then that she enters the dinning hall, it’s filled. The first thing she manages to do is smell the beautiful aroma of food that makes her stomach growl, not realizing how hungry she is but that comes to an end when the whole room drops silent.

All eyes are on her, forks dropping with a clank as hateful eyes glare intensely. In the corner of her eyes she sees the Mandalorian stand, no one can see his face but the way the ‘T’ of his visor stares is dangerous, testing, the growl the rumbles his chest is a warning, anyone who had a scene would deal with him. That was enough promise to have the room eating again, no longer silent as chatter fills the mess hall again.

A hand is placed against the small of her back, cheek of his helmet kisses her own with a whisper. “What are you doing here, love?”

The words sting, eyes shift over his own with a grimace as she pulls away from his touch. “Why? Is this only for the clan?”

A way to separate her more, keep the clan happy by isolating her from any form any outing. It makes sense, the Mandalorian wouldn’t have his people constantly at his throat, suddenly his words from before no longer mattered, they made her stomach twist, eyes water as the Din shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. hey, hey..” Fingers pull her close into his chest, fingers grip her chin, force her to peer into his eyes. “We have a visitor from another clan is all. He can be a real asshole, I just didn’t want you around him.

“Why because I’ll shame you even more?”

“Stop.” It’s firm, sends shivers down her skin at how he stiffens, looking around the room not wanting to make too much of a scene. “Come sit and eat.. I was just about to bring you dinner.”

It’s hard not to be obedient, he’s intimating, towers over her and she just knows the scowl under his helmet. Before anymore attention can be drawn to the pair he’s walking towards the table, leaving her standing there with no chose to take the seat next to him.

“Who is this?” She barely had a chance to register the two additions to the table, the one is a woman with long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes that sits almost on top of the man, she wears nothing but a thin, sheer dress that when she moves her arms the outline of her nipples can be seen but no one seems too interested, almost as if it was normal. There’s a blue Mandalorian next to her, large beads lay against his chest, they also match Din’s necklaces but are made from beskar and gold. His armor is quiet similar, but it’s a dark, royal blue with lines of gold in the creases of it, his helmet his decorated with dark, black lines of clay, there’s no symbols just senseless finger paint.

Din looks up to meet his gaze, there’s a warning in his silence but the other Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care, only tilts his head with a look she can only guess is mischief. “You know Din, It’s very uncommon to take a mistress before having a wife.”

“I’m not a mistress.” The words are hissed through her teeth, jaw flexing as she clenches them. The blue Mandalorian laughs, it’s crackles darkly and makes her stomach turn.

“Firey, I love it. I wonder if what you have under that tunic is as beautiful as you are, Mesh’la.” The same words that sound so good on the tongue of Din sound so sickly and dark on the strangers. Fist ball against her lap, the feeling of Din’s hands against her back are there to calm her, stopping her from speaking anymore so naturally, he does instead.

“Leave her alone.” Din wishes to say more but just dismisses the man, at the very moment he could not risk a war between the clans, especially after being gone for so long. What good leader would bring war and destruction on only their first few weeks back? Besides it was only a few weeks before the Winter Solaces and despite how much he wanted to wrap his hands around Viven’s neck, he couldn’t risk returning from the summer lands with his own homeland in ruins.

Din was going to let it go, leave his girl to eat but the words Viven says next makes his blood boil, “You can have mine, If i can have yours.”

His mouth falls open under the helmet, anger burns his veins and continues to warming is body as it spreads like water until he’s abruptly standing but Viven is not easily scared, he matches his stance, leaning over to push Din’s fingers away as they come down as a warning against his chest as he speaks. “You are in my land, insulting my woman -.”

Din’s hand twitches next to the blaster strapped to his hip as Viven leans closer. “You don’t scare me Din, you’re not even a real Mandalorian.”

The way Din shakes is scary, trembling as his breaths holds inside his chest before long, quick breaths move the beskar as he moves to with no doubt pounce at the man but the small hands takes his own distract him as warm fingers twine through the gaps of his own quickly pulling him towards the exit without a word.

She manages to pull them into a room down the hall, hands pressing against his chest in hopes that the change of scenery will help but his hands snatch her wrist, a rough almost inaudible growl catches the static of the vocoder. “The way he talked about you like you were some piece of meat, I’m going to kill him.”

“Shhh.” She sooths, fingers pressing against that junction of where the helmet and his shirt almost meet, leaving that small piece of skin that just radiates heat, curling the hairs with her pointer finger. His chest is stuttering under her touch but he’s too angry to notice, it’s sits in his stomach every breath that expands his chest burns with fury.

“No, I’m going to go out there and teach him how to respect a woman.” He’s trembling, intensely staring at her as she reaches over to curl her fingers under the chest plate but he’s ready to break away, fist forming to charge out that door and snap his neck but as her hands drop lower his breath stops. His chest doesn’t dare move as her own hands shake but for a whole another reason. She’s nervous, scared of whatever the Mandalorian might do and this time it would be her fault, she would be the reason and the clan would blame him, hate him more than they already do. Fingers slip low and lower until they squeeze the outline of his erection.

He didn’t even notice over the anger and frustration that had filled his entire being but none the less she earns a lustful moan. His fingers catch her wrist, rougher then he tends too but he can think, with anger rushing his body and her hand wrapping around his throbbing hardness. It’s too much, other hand finds her hip digging small crescent shaped marks into the skin through her shirt. “W-What are you doi -.”

“Shhh, let me take care of you. Can I?” It was risky, nothing she would ever do but the only way she could possibly think to distract him. He’s tense, not moving a muscle as the small hands leave his erection instead fall under his shirt as fingers run along the line of his trousers, feeling the coolness of the jean’s button before pressing down and pulling it from the buttonhole. Her hand slips down, past the elastic of his underwear to hold his heavy cock in her hand, he hisses instantly at the contact, eyes never leaving hers as a thumb moves up to spread the beading pre-cum to lubricate her hand as gives him a test stoke in which he lets out a loud groan.

“Please.” It’s a whimper, barely audible but just enough to show how bad he needs this. Almost instantly her hands tighten, moving at a pace that makes his head spin.

His heart is pounding inside his chest, it’s heard in his ears unable to make out any other words. Heat fills the helmet, a thick fog made from his own pants makes it hard to breath, it’s exciting, exhilarating as he can still hear the chatting and clanking of forks that’s just separated by a wall.

“Maker, pretty girl.” It’s whimpered against her hair slow, and breathlessly through the static of his helmet as it falls to rest his forehead against the top of her hair as her hand sets an unforgiving pace.

Small pants bounce of the walls, his hips move to meet up to her own trembling hands. He let’s out a whine of disappointment as she pulls away but his eyes widening as she brings her hand close to her mouth, spitting on her palm. “Fuck…”

He’s so lost in the moment, the way her wet palm wraps around his pulsing cock as sweat begins to bead across his forehead, heat growing deep inside his stomach as he trembles under the feeling of her hand tighten around the base of his cock. Eyes squeezing in pleasure as the familiar pit inside his stomach begins to build as she strokes in time to meet up with his thrusts.

He’s falling deeper and deeper into her spell, thoughts filled with her.

It’s all her, how good her hand feels milking him for all he can offer, how beautiful she looks like this, eyes never leaving his own as the words fall from swollen lips. “Are you going to cum for me Din?”

It’s pure heaven, the way her thumb rubs his head ever so often. Just the right amount of pressure that it stings so good, burns his thighs as her fingertips dig into them.

“Yes, Maker, yes sweetheart.” He chokes, body stiffening as he feels his balls tighten, body stutter as she pushing his pants lower past his knees as she kneels. The sounds that bounce off the wall are sinful, dirty and wet as a familiar ball of heat fills his stomach as she drops onto her knees.

She offers her face, mouth opening slightly in concentration as her hand squeezes his head one more time but he can’t help but think it’s for him as his thighs quiver and with one last trust into her hand as white, thick strands of cum paint her face pretty.

The Mandalorian in panting above her, fingers that found her hair are now rubbing softly, curling around the hair in a comforting but lazily way. He feels slightly dizzy, a post orgasm haze blurs his eyes, makes his knees ache but none the less he tucks himself back into his pants before sitting in front of her. He pulls at his cape, pressing gently against her skin to wipe at his mess, a soft laughing falling from his lips.

“To think I thought you brought me in here to calm me down.” There’s that sweet smile that makes his heart jump but the way her eyebrows furrow with playful eyes is new.

“That’s what I was doing.”

“Sneaky girl.” The words are whispered affectionally into her neck as he finishes and throws the cape somewhere across the room. There’s a small tisk that falls from his lips makes her laugh. Fingers roam the bottom of the helm, seeking a kiss from those soft lips but the loud commotion outside makes him stiffen, raising to his feet as the yelling continue. His hand takes her own, this time he is the one dragging her through the threshold of the dinning hall. Viven stands over the crowd as if he wants to speak but that’s not what pisses Din off, it’s how dangerously close to his throne, almost acting like it doesn’t exist.

“This man can’t lead you!” Viven’s words are loud, powerful from his chest as he catches their attention. The dinning hall is quiet now, a celebration now ruined with sourness. “He will betray the way of the Mandalore, he will shame us all, he has no wife, offers no future for you. He holds a foundling that will never survive, it is too weak. He has failed to bring it back to it’s people.”

Din stiffens at the words, hateful as they spray across the room. His son will survive, he is stronger than anyone here, no one chooses to see it. The mention of Grogu as his first balling on his lap as murmurs break the threshold of silence, heavy boots echo across the hall until they take one step onto the platform, standing to tower the man as the orange tips of his gloves poke at the blue Mandalorian’s armor. “Leave my son’s name out of your mouth, mind your words.”

"Or what? You already shame your clan by not having a wife… Do you plan on stringing this poor girl on forever?” The words make her cheeks flush in anger but realization hits Din almost instantly - the man had made it clear he wanted her but only because he thought it was all for fun, nothing but a sense or pleasure. Viven thought Din had no intention of marrying the girl because it was unheard of, a clan leader must marry another of similar rank, not a nobody who was not a mandalorian none the less. Then again Din wasn’t supposed to have the power he holds, the rules aren’t meant to be broken but also are not set in stone. Even though it wasn’t seen, Din’s stare was intense and boring a hole into the front of Viven’s visor, heart thumping against his chest with frustration, anger that Viven ever thought he would just give her away, trade her like she was some kind of property.

“That’s not true.” The words leave her mouth before she realizes what she is saying, she’s so frustrated with the whole situation and watching how Din’s shoulders fell with Viven’s last words was the last straw. “We are getting married.”

The way everyone’s glares towards her at the words made her nervous but nothing compared to the way her heart jumped inside her chest as Din’s helmet snaps in her direction. Din felt his cheeks warm, suddenly the man challenging his authority didn’t matter. He’s thankful for the helmet at this very moment as it hides the pink patches of blush on his chest and cheeks. He tries to open his mouth and speak but the twitch of his lips stops him, she looks beautiful right now.

Frustration clear on her red face, eyebrows furrow with agitation but she bites her bottom lip at his gaze feeling heat over her own skin as she chews it nervously. For a moment they are the only two people the exist, a little lost, unsure but no matter how much they try and fight it they would never be the same without each other. “I’ve accepted his marriage proposal.”

With those five words the room breaks out in chaos but Din can’t seem to care, his eyes can’t leave the sight of his future riduur.

Viven’s dark eyes run over the sight of Din, a loud growl coming from his chest. “I warned your father about you becoming leader, you do nothing but shame our name. You’re not even a real Mandalorian!”

Din’s body physically stiffens, hot, pulsing anger setting his skin ablaze. It’s not anything new, hearing it his whole life how he will never match up to the expectations of them but none the less he was still named leader.

Viven yells words in a different dialect but the reaction of the crowd is filled with yells of support, cheering in a sickening way that makes her stomach twist. Din’s eyes shift from hers to the blue Mandalorian, his words are also foreign but the crowd let’s out a victory cry, it’s sick of easily his own clan turns on him.

Din Djarin has accepted the challenge to the death for his rightful place as Mand'lor and she has absolutely no idea as Din reaches behind his back to retrieve the spear of beskar as he lets out a warriors cry.

Tags: @xxyoshiplushxx, @altarsw, @dinsbeskar, @engie115, @owloveyounever, @peterpangirl21, @couldntbedamned, @poguesvixen, @mudhornchronicles, @mcueveryday, @softly-sad, @heythere-mel, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @the-last-twin-of-krypton, @nikkixostan, @coonflix, @victias (if you want to be tagged, tag list is up by summary)

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superbadassnatural · 4 years ago

Text

A Lot to Make up For

Summary: Dean threw a fit when he saw something he didn’t like. To say you were angry with him was an understatement. The least thing he could do was make-up for his behavior. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 4,647 Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, little bit of spanking, jealous!Dean, mentions of fwb relationship, a bit of crack? A/N: this was written for “SPN Bi-Weekly Challenge” hosted by the amazing @supernatural-jackles. There are three prompts in this one and they are all bolded. I’m trying to understand why tumblr flagged this post when I uploaded the gif I made, which is similar to this one, but not flagged it when I used someone else’s. Either way, at least one of them worked. Please, enjoy it!

(x)

When you decided to come to the bar, you didn’t expect it to be this crowded. Loud conversations competed with the sound of the electronic music. Somehow you managed to find an empty barstool and ran for it. You ordered a beer, sipping at it, unsure of what you were really doing here.

You needed a night out. It had been a while since you last went out by yourself. You usually hung out with the boys, but this time you didn’t want to. It’s not like you didn’t want to be around them, you just wanted to enjoy some quality time alone.

A man sat beside you. He seemed to be around your age and he was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The man turned to you, introduced himself, and started a small talk that turned into an interesting — and mostly funny — conversation.

Andrew was good to be around. He was a stranger, but he somehow knew how to make you laugh. He even bought you a couple of beers and fries.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get out of the bar and have your way with him between the sheets. Or maybe it was the way he was flirting with you that was making those thoughts run through your mind. You didn’t even notice he was that close to you. Your knees brushed each other under the wooden counter. His knuckles ran down your forearm. Every now and then his brown eyes would descend to your lips as you spoke. He wanted it as much as you did.

“You know, I was thinking...” he scooted closer, eyes leaving yours to dart to your painted lips. “Maybe we should-“

“Oh, there you are,” a familiar voice interrupted him.

Dean. He stepped towards you, a smile playing on his lips. Both you and Andrew frowned.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart,” his hand made its way to your waist as he planted a kiss to the side of your head.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his hold.

“I was worried sick, baby,” he said. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrew stepped in just as confused as you. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dean, her boyfriend,” he beamed, holding out his hand, but Andrew didn’t take it. “Listen, thanks, man, for taking care of her. I’m glad you were keeping her company. Who knows what would happen if you weren’t here. Maybe some bastard would’ve tried to take advantage of her.”

“Her boyfriend?” The man was trying to wrap his mind around what Dean was saying.

“No!” You jumped it.

“Yeah,” he said at the same time as you did. “I don’t know why she’s saying I’m not.”

“Sorry, man,” he looked at you as if you were some lying bitch. “She told me she was single.”

“I am single! He’s my friend.”

“Well, I don’t know if she’s told you, but she suffers from short-term memory loss,” Dean pursed his lips.

What the hell is he talking about, you thought to yourself.

“You know, like Dory from Finding Nemo,” he added. “She probably forgot we were dating. She’s probably going to forget about you too so I suggest you go away. If she forgets you and sees you, she won’t understand a thing. It’ll only make her poor mind even more confused.”

“It must be hard to deal with that,” Andrew sighed, buying Dean’s crap. “Well, I’ll leave you guys be. Sorry about that, man.”

Andrew headed out of the bar. You were too dumbfounded by the whole situation to go after him and explain that your best friend was delusional. He probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. Dean burst into laughter.

“Are you out of your mind?” You nearly roared at him, slapping his hands off of you.

“Oh, you gotta admit that was funny,” he gushed between laughter.

“No, Dean, it wasn’t,” you glared at him. “It was ridiculous and extremely disrespectful. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.”

You stormed out of the bar with Dean hot on your tail. Your blood was boiling. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just let you get some tonight? You stopped in front of your car and turned to him.

“Get lost, Winchester. I don’t want you near me tonight.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. I’m your best friend. I’m your favorite person in this whole world,” he bargained.

“Best friend?” You chuckled humorlessly. “Since when best friends do stuff like that? Seriously, Dean, that was low even for you. I don’t wanna see you tonight or tomorrow or for the rest of the week! Not even if you’re covered in gold.”

“Not even if I’m naked and covered in gold with your favorite chocolate?”

“No. Actually, the thought of you naked just made me throw up in my mouth a little.”

“Well, that wasn’t what you said a few days ago,” he had the cockiest grin playing on his lips. Maybe he thought he could charm his way and you would forgive him.

“Fuck you,” you sneered. “If you do so much as follow me, I’m gonna murder you!”

Hopping in your car, you turned the engine and headed home. Your hands gripped tight the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. You couldn’t for the life of you understand what had gotten into him. He’d never acted like that. He didn’t have the right to.

In about ten minutes you arrived at the condominium you live in. Parking in your spot, you let out a frustrated sigh before climbing off the car. You were glad he didn’t follow you. At least he had a little respect for you.

As you stepped foot into your apartment you rushed to the bathroom. A shower would do wonders for your tense muscles. Maybe it would even wash your anger away. You turned on the water and checked the temperature before hopping in. You relaxed immediately as the warm water hit your skin.

Although you felt more relaxed after showering, your mind was still on a thousand miles per hour. Dean had never behaved the way he did tonight. Throughout your eleven years of friendship, he had never disrespected you or crossed any boundaries. But tonight he did. Maybe he was angry because you decided to hit a bar and didn’t invite him. It doesn’t justify his behavior.

You’d be lying if you said you were just friends. Over a year ago, after many drinks you and Dean had sex. It was nice, but you barely remembered anything the following morning. So you did it sober. It might have been a dumb idea, but boy it felt good. Dean suggested you should keep doing that and you agreed. No strings attached. No exclusivity. Just two friends blowing off some steam every now and then.

What you have with Dean doesn’t give him the right to act the way he did. He’s not your boyfriend. Both of you agreed that it was okay to see other people and even have sex with them — always with protection. Aside from Dean, you only had sex with one person since you started to fool around. Now, when you finally got the chance to hang out with some guy, he decided to show up and throw a fit? Who does he think he is?

“Ah, screw him,” you mumbled.

Shifting into your ideal sleeping position, your body relaxed on the mattress. Thank God for memory foam. It didn’t take long for tiredness to take over and for you to drift off to sleep.

The unceasing sound of the doorbell ringing startled you. You stood to your feet abruptly, but soon regretted when you felt dizzy. Putting on your robe, you headed to the front door not even bothering to look through the peephole. It seemed to be some kind of emergency. No one would be ringing the doorbell this late if it wasn’t urgent. Unlocking the door, you opened it.

“Hey. How can I-“ you stopped once you met his green eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry-“

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you hissed, trying to push the door close but his feet stopped you.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t care. It’s fucking three in the morning. I have to get up early to go to work,” your hand gripped tight to the knob, ready to close the door in his face if he tried to come in. “I’m sorry, but not everyone works for their dad and can show up late everyday.”

“We both know tomorrow is your day off,” he said. “Please let me in. I need to talk to you. Then you can kick me out and go back to your beauty sleep.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stepping aside for him to come in. “But only because I’m mad at you and I’m in the mood for a fight.”

“Can we fight so we can have angry make-up sex later?” A smirk appeared on his plump lips.

“Sex with you?” You snickered. “Never again.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he pleaded. “It’s been two weeks since we had some fun.”

“Did you come here so you could get laid? Did ou wake me up just so you could have sex with me? Really, Dean?”

“No, of course not. If I wanted to have sex with you, I would have texted you first,” he said. “I came here to apologize.”

“Oh, so you know you screwed up. Good.”

“Would you let me finish?” You rolled your eyes crossing your arms over your chest. “I came here to surprise you. I thought we could have a sleepover since you don’t have to go to work tomorrow. I even brought my Die Hard collection so we could watch it tonight. I bought two slices of pie on the way. Cherry for me and apple for you. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and there’s not a single light on.”

“So what? Are you telling me that it’s my fault now? I should have stayed home waiting for you?” You pointed your finger at him. “Is that the reason why you did what you did at the bar?”

“I looked for you everywhere. Then Jess told me you went out for a drink at Hardy’s. So I went after you. When I saw that guy with his hands all over you, I flipped. I knew I couldn’t punch him and start a fight so I did that.”

“You know you’re not my boyfriend, right? Or my father for that matter?” You stepped closer to him. “So why did you have to ruin things for me tonight? I’ve never done anything like that to you. Never! Why did you have to be such an idiot?”

“I was jealous, okay?” He growled.

“It still doesn’t give you the right to do that, Dean,” you yelled at him. “You know, Dean, every time you, Sam, and I go to a bar, you leave us on the table to hit on the bartender. I wouldn’t have a problem with that if your brother was single. Don’t get me wrong, I love Jess, but if Sam was single then he’d hit on someone and I’d be free to do that too. Or even better, I could make out with him!” You exclaimed, knowing it would piss him off. “Oh, Jess told me some things that you probably don’t wanna know, but they were really interesting. In case you don’t know, girls talk about sex too. From what she’s told me, I bet he’s better than you. I mean, he’s definitely bigger so-“

“Shut up!” He yelled. You could see his jaw tightening as the veins in his neck throbbed.

“You know what’s even worse? When Jess comes with us, I’m third-wheeling most of the time. For some reason, they won’t let me get two feet away from them.”

“I hit on the bartenders to make you jealous. It’s all fake,” he nearly barked. “I thought that maybe if I did that I’d get a reaction from you because I’m too much of a coward to do the right thing.”

“You do remember our agreement, right? Just sex. No feelings. We are non-exclusive. We can see other people and even have sex. We made a bunch of rules back in that day. One of them was no cockblocking,” your blood was boiling in your veins. You could feel your anger grow with every word you said.

“I’m sorry, okay? But I couldn’t just stand there and watch that son of a bitch getting all handsy.”

“While you were having fun with bartenders and girls you met every time we went out, I was alone. Since we started this, I’ve only had sex with one person and it was-“

“Terrible. I know you said the guy was awful.”

“It’s not that I think I should be having sex with half of the men in town, but if you can have sex with everyone you want then why can’t I? Every time I try to hang out with someone, I get sabotaged.”

“Ever since we started this, I’ve only had sex with you. I tried to be with someone else but it didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”

“Oh my God, it was you!” Reality downed to you as you ignored him. The sound of your raged heart much louder than his voice. “You sabotaged me every time! The broken lock, flat tires, and all that crap that happened every time I got close to a guy. They were all you.”

“Yeah, it was me,” Dean barked. “You deserve better than those guys.”

“Who gave you the right to do that, you idiot? Why did you have to do that?”

“Because I love you dammit!” His voice was much louder, causing you to flinch.

“Well, maybe that’s the problem!” You yelled back at him.

You spun around completely done with him, your head was pounding in your skull. The last thing you saw before storming out of the apartment was his jaw wiring shut as his eyes filled with rage.

The door slammed with a loud thud, startling Dean. He was pulled out of his angry trance when he noticed he was standing alone in the middle of your apartment. He knew he had screwed up big time. He’d not planned on confessing his feelings to you tonight. Especially not like this.

You stood dumbstruck in the hall just outside your door. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were peacefully asleep, the other you and Dean were almost jumping at each other’s throats. He shouldn’t have said he loves you. And you shouldn’t have stormed out the way you did.

“God, what have I done?” you sighed.

The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the corridor. You didn’t want to turn around. You couldn’t face him.

“You realize you just stormed out of your apartment, right?” He let out a small chuckle to try to light up the mood.

“You see what you do to me?” You turned around to face him. His green eyes held anything but anger. “You make me so mad that I do stupid things like storming out of my own home when I should’ve kicked you out.”

“Hey, you don’t need me to do stupid things. You can do that on your own,” he held his hands up, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. “Now let’s get inside, shall we?”

You only nodded, following him back inside.

“So what do we do now, huh?” He asked, shutting the door.

“You don’t love me. I mean- you do, but as your best friend.”

“No, Y/N, I love you as more than my best friend.”

“Stop,” you argued. “You can’t, okay? Or you’re gonna ruin everything.”

“Ruin what? We both know this is not a friends with benefits shit. It never was.”

“Dean-“

“This is not one-sided and you know it, Y/N,” he said, voice deeper than usual. “What we did… what we do is not just sex. Or do I have to tell you how many times we actually made love?”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice wavered.

“Because I love you, Y/N.”

“Then don’t. You’re screwing things up.”

“Why can’t you just admit it? Why is it so hard for you to finally say it?”

“I can’t risk losing you,” you said low enough that he almost didn’t hear you. Almost. “The moment we take that step there’s no going back and I can’t risk losing you. I can’t.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he placed his hands on both sides of your hips, his body incredibly close to yours.

“You can’t promise me that.”

“You’re right. I can’t, but I’ll do anything to be with you.”

Fingers curling in the collar of his flannel, you pulled him to you, capturing his lips with yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he returned the kiss. It was slow at first, almost uncertain. The soft press of his lips made you melt into his touch. Your tongue caressed his plump lips in a plea for him to allow you to delve into his mouth. A muffled moan escaped his lips as his hands came up to cup your face, thumb circling your cheek.

You pulled away in need of air. Your eyes were still closed as you rested your forehead against his.

“I don’t know about you but I’m still down for some angry make-up sex,” he said between panted breaths.

“Dean-“

“Stop denying what you want, Y/N.”

Swallowing thick, you opened your eyes only to meet his green orbs hooded with lust. With arms around his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist, lips colliding with his. Warm hands held you by the back of your thighs as he walked towards your bedroom. He pushed you against the wall, placing you back on the floor. His lips graced the skin of your neck with sweet yet hungry kisses. Your body was pressed flush to him. You could feel his heart beating fast against your chest and his growing bulge against your pelvis. A moan left your lips as one of his hands hiked up your leg and squeezed your thigh over the silky robe. Dean pressed himself to you and you bucked your hips, the feeling of his erection against your soaked pussy setting your body on fire.

Hurried hands fumbled with the knot tying your robe. He pushed it off your shoulders, revealing your naked before him, the soft material pooling around your feet.

“Fuck,” he said in a low grunt as his eyes wandered over your bare chest.

A smile spread on your lips. Always the same reaction from him. You unbuttoned his flannel, dropping it to the floor. As Dean yanked his white shirt over his head, your hands reached for his naked torso, traveling down to his abdomen and stopping over his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He pulled down his pants, standing in front of you only in his boxers. You pushed him towards the bed, straddling his hips as he sat. Hungry lips captured his plump, pink ones, his hands snaked to your back. The soft touch of his fingertips sending shivers down your spine.

“Need you,” a breathy moan escaped your lips.

Dean’s back met the softness of the mattress, green eyes sparkling at the sight of you on top of him. You leaned and his hands reached for your breasts. Fingers nipped at your hardened bud as his mouth enveloped the other. His name escaped your lips in a tiny whimper as you rolled your hips against him. He released your nipple with a pop and planted kisses everywhere he could touch.

You pushed down his boxers, revealing his hard cock in all its glory. Your small hand wrapped around his length, stroking it before circling the head with your thumb.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Want you. I need to taste you. Come up here.”

You crawled up, knees around his broad shoulders. As your hands met the headboard, he lowered your body to his face. Dean wanted to take his time. He peppered open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs. He ran his nose over your folds and you let out a frustrated moan.

“Stop teasing.”

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” although you didn’t see it, you felt his lips curl into a smirk.

“I need to cum.”

Three teasing licks from your slit to clit caused your breath to hitch on your throat. He wanted to drive you insane and he definitely knew how to do it. Dean licked and sucked your most sensitive parts. Parts he knew by heart. His tongue entered your channel and you saw stars. Fingers finding their course to his hair, gripping it to the point of pain. A guttural grunt from him made your whole body shudder. You tried to buck your hips against his sinful mouth, but his strong grip on your hips restrained your movements. He kept pushing his tongue as far as he could, tasting your sweetness as he feasted. Muffled moans and husky hums escaped his lips, reverberating through your soaked folds. He enjoyed this as much as you did.

“Hmm, yes,” you moaned.

When you felt his grasp on you loosen, you rolled your hips. All your self-consciousness fading as the need to come grew stronger. Your hands dropped to the mattress, ass angling up. His tongue started to circulate your clit, sending small shivers through your body. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes landing on his hand stroking his cock slowly. Your cunt clenched around nothing. His teeth grazed over your bundle of nerves, nipping slightly. The burning coil in your abdomen tightened. Dean sealed his lips around your clit and you went off as a rocket. Your legs trembled around his head as he kept sucking. Waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Fuck, Dean,” you yelled out his name along with a bunch of obscenities.

Dean moaned as he lapped at your juices. He licked you clean until you rode out your orgasm. He kissed your sensitive clit before helping you scooting down so you could meet his face.

“Hi,” you smiled as you laid on top of him.

“Hey,” his plump lips were shining with your release, his cheeks a bright pink.

You leaned to capture his lips. A moan was muffled by his mouth as you tasted yourself in his tongue. The kiss didn’t last though. Both of you were in some serious need of air to make it last.

“I bet the neighbors know my name,” he beamed with the cockiest smirk.

“Oh, shut up,” with a roll of eyes, you started to plant open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

“You know they do. Especially after tonight. The way you-“ he stopped as you sucked at a sensitive spot on the side of his neck. “Shit, Y/N. Need to be inside you.”

He flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you. His lips attacked yours in a hungry, bruising kiss. Your hand reached for his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

“No, not like this. I have other things in mind,” he said with a crooked grin. “On all fours, sweetheart.”

Dean pulled away and you did as told. Your ass perked up and his warm hands gripped your hips. He squeezed your skin and you groaned in anticipation. The tip of his cock circled your entrance.

“Please,” a sweet little cry escaped your lips.

You whimpered as he pushed inside you ever so slow. His massive size stretching your walls to fit him. Dean groaned. He slid out almost completely before thrusting into you with such force that you gasped.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted. “You feel so good. So tight.”

His blunt fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. Sweat broke through your body as your breath started to come in short spurts. His hand collided with your right cheek, causing your body to jerk. Then he did the same to the other one and you hissed. Dean leaned against you, kissing your shoulder blade.

“You like this, don’t you?” His voice barely upon a whisper, hot breath fanning at your clammy skin. “You like it when I take you just… like… this?” His thrusts matched his words, sending you over the edge once again.

“Yes!”

His hand smacked harder at your right cheek as he pulled away. That definitely was going to leave a mark. Your skin tingling at the stingy sensation. He slammed in and out of you like a madman. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room along with shameless cries and husky grunts. The heat in your core started to grow even more. You fell forward into the mattress, fingers curling the sheets. Your walls pulsated around him as your orgasm hit you abruptly. Dean sent another five deep-seated thrusts and had you screaming into the pillow in pure ecstasy.

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t notice Dean flipping you into your back. He leaned down nuzzling into your neck, before sliding back into you. He kept driving in and out of you, his breath erratic. Your hands slapped against his back, nails digging into his skin, heels digging into his ass. You needed as much of him as you could get.

“Come with me, sweetheart,” he nearly pleaded as he pulled away from your neck.

His hips pistoned against yours, sloppy thrusts aiming for the final push. The thumps of the headboard banging against the wall mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. Dean delivered three deep thrusts before his body stiffened. He held himself there as he painted your walls white with his seed. Your orgasm rippled through you. You clenched around him so tight, milking his cock for all its worth. His green orbs locked in your lust blown eyes as his lips parted in a perfect “o” shape, mirroring your expression, though no sound came from any of you. Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as pleasure washed through you.

Dean collapsed on top of you, his head nuzzling in the curve of your neck. He placed a kiss to your skin before rolling to his side. Both of you waited for your breaths to even. Only then, when the room had grown quiet, you noticed the orange glow in the room caused by the strays of sunshine that managed to get past the blinds.

“Hot damn,” he let out a content sigh.

“What we did tonight… it should be illegal,” you half-chuckled.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he had a stupid grin on his face the whole time.

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you pouted. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Really? C’mon! I thought I had made myself up to you by making you come three times. Wasn’t that enough?”

“Of course not! You cockblocked me. Who knows how many times I would’ve cum if I was with that guy,” you shrugged.

“None. Plus, he doesn’t love you so it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as this was.”

“You still need to make yourself up to me. ’Sides, you didn’t even tie the record, Dean. I’ve made myself come more times using just my fingers and a couple of toys.”

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“Only if you wanted it to be,” you smirked.

Dean rolled over you, his hand making its way to cup your mound. “I bet you still have my cum dripping from this tight pussy.”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

I’d love to know what you think of this one! Please, consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Dean Sweethearts:

@maya-craziness @akshi8278 @spookytaylors @thisismysecrethappyplace @witch-of-letters

#spn bi-weekly writing challenge #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #dean x reader #deanreader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

Savior

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of COVID.

Words: 2633.

Summary: Nothing goes right in the middle of pandemic while you try to come back home. Luckily, Bucky is there to give you a hand.

P.S. Basically, I typed all the story on my phone, so please forgive me for any mistakes. Hope you'll enjoy!

_________________________

You knew something would go wrong. You had that nagging feeling the whole day right after you woke up and prepared your bags before arriving at the airport. Today you had a flight back to US right in the middle of pandemic. You needed to get back to your sick father as he had no one but you to take care of him, and the urgency made you disregard all the risks related to your travel. You needed to get home at whatever cost.

But nothing was as easy as before, and now you were almost crying, staring at one of Sokovia Airlines officials who blankly stated you simply didn't have enough documents prepared by the Embassy for your travel. Basically, they were implying that instead of taking a transit and flying back home you might stay in Sokovia - of course, you had only a transit visa that didn't give you any right for a long stay. Both company's representative and you knew you only planned to return home, but he simply couldn't let you pass without full set of documents.

"God, honey, how long are you going to stay there?" You heard someone's grumpy voice behind you and turned back to see a huge man with long dark hair advancing towards you.

Who was he? You had never seen him before arriving at the airport. Then you spotted him in the line - his muscular built draw your attention immediately, and your cheeks were flushed when you saw him looking back at you. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes showed you he was smiling at you. But what was he doing now? Did he take you for someone else?

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The representative asked, watching the man suspiciously.

"I'm her fiancee." The stranger barked and took a look at you, his light blue eyes strangely comforting. You weren't sure, but did he just... winked at you for a second?

The man behind the counter didn't look pleased.

"Then why weren't you standing together?"

"Because we had a big fight this morning and were mad at each other when we arrived here." The stranger furrowed. "With all due respect, it's none of your business. Would you tell me what is the issue with her papers, please?"

You gulped, your arms shaking slightly. Although the stranger probably wanted to help you, you weren't sure it would work out - the representative only needed to ask if you knew this man's name to figure everything out. Was he actually travelling to New York as well? Would the officials ban you from entering US at all for your lie? God, anyway, it was too late to confess.

"I'm sorry, dear." You whispered, looking at you shoes and hoping no one would suspect anything.

The stranger let out a sigh tiredly and scratched his head. Instead of answering you, he gave his passport to the official.

"Your fiancee doesn't have the form WS-21, Mr. Barnes. We cannot permit her crossing the boarder of Sokovia without it, unfortunately. Do you have your own form?"

"I'm sure I do." He passed the man behind the counter a pack of his documents and carefully took the papers you held in your arms. Flipping through them, he gripped the phone in his other arm.

"Yes, your forms are alright, but..."

"Just a minute, please."

You watched him dialing some number and shivered at the thought of being trapped in the airport. The only thing you wanted was to come back home, to your father. You prayed to stay healthy and was supposed to take a test right after your arrival. Of course, you knew perfectly you were most likely to stay two weeks at home, but it was way better than staying thousands miles away, nonetheless.

"Hi Steve." The man's voice almost made you jump. "Yes, I'm good, but my sweetheart has an issue with one of the forms... Yeah... Well, you know her, always forgetting one thing or another... The Embassy, of course. Hey, could you?.."

You saw him walking away to the next few counters, keeping his distance from other travellers with their huge bags. His large bulky figure looked scary, his face concealed with a black mask, and you suddenly wondered who this man was. A complete stranger, he was eager to help you. Why? Was he truly a Good Samaritan? If not, what was his motive? Nervously tapping your hip, you felt your eyes watering - your anxiety was getting worse.

The official huffed and puffed, visibly irritated. You saw people passing around you with the boarding passes in their hands, looking for the right direction, and asked yourself why you were not as lucky as all of them. Could that mysterious Mr. Barnes help you? Watching him pacing across the airport hall, you chewed your lip to bits.

'I'm so, so sorry." You whispered to the man behind the counter. "Please, just a few minutes more."

He didn't answer, and you were left to your own dreary thoughts.

However, your frightening savior showed up soon with a smile hidden beneath his mask. Judging by the way he looked, things might be not as bad as you expected them to be.

"Don't worry, honey." He said confidently and gave all your documents to the representative. "Consul will be here in 10 minutes."

You gaped at him, trembling at his words. What? Consul? Consul was coming to save you? This man was able to convince him to drive all the way to the airport just to help you with this goddamn form? You couldn't believe it. It sounded insane.

You realized you were crying only when the man in front of you shushed you gently and rubbed you shoulder with his gloved hand. Thinking it looked odd, you decided you had to say something convincing and mumbled, "I'm sorry for all the things I said in the morning. I was... I was..."

"It's ok, honey." He said softly, his icy blue eyes warming up at the sight of your flushed face. "It doesn't matter now. Everything gonna be alright, let's just relax and wait a little bit."

He was right, of course. Once Consul had showed up and came to speak to the officials, it turned out you didn't even need the form WS-21 because you had the other one to replace it. Bucky - that was your handsome stranger's name - chuckled quietly once he saw the red face of Consul walking to you to offer his sincere apologies. The company's representatives looked like someone just splashed a bucket of cold water over their heads. It didn't matter to you, though, as you got the only thing you wanted from the start - your right to come back to US.

You were the last one to go through customs - your flight was delayed for 15 minutes just to give you time to board after this hussle. Bucky was with you all the time, always keeping the distance. He even gave you one more mask since yours was drenched with tears. It's unsafe to wear a wet one, he said.

It was still hard to believe all this happened to you. Now you were sitting close to Bucky and looking out the window happily. God, you thought you would have a heart attack before this kind man showed up to save you as if he were a prince charming. You were ashamed of yourself for thinking he was frightening. Well, he looked beefy, but Bucky was a former Navy SEAL, and it wasn't surprising he wanted to keep himself in shape. Listening to him trying to make a small talk, you smiled. He was a good man, and you were lucky to meet him.

"Thank you... for taking care of me." You said in a tiny voice. "If you weren't there, I'd never leave this place."

His eyes sparkled with joy at your words, and he laughed a little through his mask.

"I'm glad I was able to help." Smiling at you, he watched the flight attendants coming closer to your row and offering drinks to the people in front of your seats . "I understand how important it is for you to come back."

___________________

The rest of your journey was as stressful as its beginning, but Bucky was always there for you. Still pretending to be your fiancee, he dealt with your new issues so fast as if he had a magic wand, and you couldn't express your gratitude for everything he had done for you. Apparently, meeting someone as good-natured as him was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

In the end, exhausted from your long journey - you spend more than 20 hours travelling - you fell asleep on the way back to New York. Bucky was next to you again, and you finally felt safe. All was good if he was close.

Thinking of the ways to repay him for the kindness he showed you, you closed your eyes and dozed off in a matter of minutes. Everything was going to be okay.

Or so you thought before you woke up in a place you didn't recognize, all you belongings gone. They even changed you clothes! Feeling hazy and tired, you shifted uncomfortably on the bed and looked around a plain room with only a few pieces of furniture. What had happened? Did you fell sick during the flight? But it didn't look like hospital. Why no one had woken you up if anything serious happened? Why didn't you wake up yourself? Surely, it was loud enough when you landed. You weren't even a heavy sleeper!

Still a little groggy, you got your feet on the floor and walked to the door next to the white Ikea drawer. You hoped your were back to US, at least. If you were in Sokovia... God, you didn't even want to think about it.

"Excuse me, is anybody here?" You asked once you entered the corridor, looking for people.

Although you saw no one at all, you heard someone's footsteps and froze, suddenly feeling afraid to move. Why were you so sure it was safe to raise your voice? You didn't know where you were, why you were kept here, and who was the one who brought you to this place. Did you break any laws? Were you confined?

Before you freaked out, you saw Bucky emerging from one of the doors and advancing quickly towards you with a wide smile. He had no mask covering his face, and you saw how handsome he was with his soft chapped lips and a three-day beard. Was he really here with you? You saw his grin and felt relieved. Thank goodness it was Bucky, you thought. If he was here, you two would definitely figure something out.

"Morning, honey." He smiled and stretched his huge hand towards you. "How are you feeling?"

You laughed at his words: he was still playing your little game.

"Hi Bucky. A bit tired, but otherwise I'm pretty good. Um, where are we now, actually?"

He looked at you dumbfounded and helped you walking into the closest room - a nice spacious master bedroom with lots of photos on the walls, a huge king-sized bed, a closet and a table. The room looked a bit unfinished, but better than the one where you woke up.

"We're home, honey." Bucky answered softly when you landed on the comfy bed.

"Wait, your home?"

"What do you mean? Our home, of course."

When you looked at him with wide eyes, he simply gestured to the frames on the wall, and you saw yourself kissing him on the cheek. The other photo was a selfie where you were depicted sleeping on Bucky's shoulder. One more had you two dancing. You couldn't believe your eyes and jumped from the bed to have a better look at the photos, but it was really you there along with him. How could it happen? What did you miss? You could swear you had never seen Bucky before. Was it Photoshop or anything like that? It would be more realistic, really.

"Didn't we... m-meet yesterday at the airport?" You whispered, horrified to the core.

"Honey, we met two years ago." Bucky frowned, coming closer and looking at your face intently. "Listen, I'm going to call the doctor again, ok? I see you didn't recover from your fall yesterday, so let's have you checked one more time."

"What fall?"

"Your bike. Yesterday's evening. You lost consciousness for a few minutes, remember? The doctor said you had nothing serious, but I see he was wrong. Give me just a few seconds to call him, ok?"

You stared blankly at him, unsure of what to do. Was it all true? You felt like you were going mad, watching Bucky walking out the room. Did you really lose your memories because you hit your head? Maybe it sounded quite logical, but you just didn't feel it was right.

When Bucky was talking to the doctor in the corridor, you quickly searched the room but didn't find your cellphone or anything that could confirm your suspicions. On the other hand, you didn't remember anything after you fell asleep during your flight. Anything at all. There was no memories of your father even, although you cared about him more than anyone else in your life. How bad did you have to hit your head? It didn't feel real.

Sighing, you walked to the closet and opened it, finding there just a bit of Bucky's clothes and a few pieces of your own old one. If he didn't know you, how come your clothes was here? Surely, he couldn't bring your unconscious body through the customs, then come to your house, fetch your clothes and bring you here. How was that even possible?

You looked in the mirror, watching you face growing more wet with tears streaming down your cheeks. You needed to calm down. Whatever had happened, Bucky was not your kidnapper, obviously. He only wanted to help, nothing else. Maybe you really hit your head too hard.

Scratching your temple, you looked closely at your face to see if something had changed. As far as you could see, you were the same as before, but you had never been keen on changing your appearance, anyway. Maybe it was all true. Maybe you were now living with Bucky in your new house as a couple.

You sighed again and touched your shoulder with your palm. You were safe. Regardless of what had happened, you were back in US, visibly unharmed - well, almost - and living in a pretty decent house. It was silly to think that Bucky was here to torture you. He was probably no less concerned than you: his honey couldn't even remeber those two years they spent together.

But then you suddenly saw a little blue line on the back of your palm. It was hardly visibly since you tried to rub it off your skin once you accidentally marked yourself with a pen while filling some documents in Sokovia, yet some ink was still there. You looked carefully and saw that it was the very same curved little line. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.

When you heard Bucky's concerned voice somewhere from the corridor, you backed away to the bed, watching the door with horror. It was all a lie. Those pictures on the walls were really photoshopped, and the clothes... if he could make the pictures in such short time, maybe he had someone to take care of your clothes. Maybe he had never been a Navy SEAL in the first place. Was he a hitman? A serial killer? You didn't know for certain, but one thing you knew for sure: Bucky wasn't your savior. He was your captor.

___________

Tags: @hurricanerin @pandulceamor

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere #mcu

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding High

Ch22: Reconnecting

Chapter Summary: Fliss and Frank both move to put recent events behind them, but Mary isn’t quite as forgiving…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!!!

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 21

Now that you’re mine, we’ll find a way of chasing the sun.

Fliss hardly spoke a word on the drive back to the apartment. She held onto Frank's hand, gently cradling it in her lap when he wasn't using it, her eyes fixed out of the windscreen of the truck, Thor sat on the seat next to her nearest the door. Frank didn't bother making small talk, there was no need. The silence wasn't awkward, so bar asking her if she was hungry, to which she smiled and replied that she was just tired, he left her to it. He parked up and they all jumped out, Thor heading up the familiar tread path on the lawn in front of them. Frank gently took Fliss' hand and they walked up the steps where he opened the door and let her in. He followed her into the living room where she stopped and looked around, a soft smile on her face. "Better than the annex." She said, looking at him "it felt so lonely and...I dunno actually." "That's because it's not your home anymore." Frank said gently. "Your home is here." She stepped towards him and slid her arms round him, slipping them through his open white and blue checked shirt, pressing her cheek to his chest, nuzzling into his white t-shirt. He gently placed his hands on her back, holding her close and dropped a kiss to her head. After a moment or so she pulled back and looked up at him. "Sure you don't want eats?" He asked, "Coz I'm getting kinda hungry." She pondered for a moment. “Not really. But if you get pizza I might steal a slice." Frank gave a chuckle. “Okay, I'll order in." She gave a smile and then stepped back, her left hand going to her right shoulder as she gently rolled it back, grimacing slightly, the movement didn't go unnoticed. "You ok?" Frank frowned "Your shoulder bad again?" "A little. I jarred it a few days back." "How?" "I err..." she took a deep breath. "I had a nightmare and fell out of bed. Landed a little awkwardly" Frank watched her for a moment, for the first time really taking in how exhausted she looked. She clearly hadn't been sleeping well either. "Sweetheart, why don't you take a bath?" He looked at her "Go relax whilst I order us some food." "I'd like that." She smiled. "I'll, err...go... "You don't need to ask." Frank shook his head, looking at her. "You're not a guest. You live here." "I know. I just..." she sighed "I left.”

“And now you’re back.” “I know, honestly, I'll be ok after a good sleep. I promise." She leaned up to give him a kiss before she headed down to the bathroom. Frank watched her go before he retrieved 2 beers from the fridge, rubbing slightly at his eyes. It felt a little well, not awkward, but almost tentative, like they were both slightly unsure of how to play the situation out. But then again, he supposed, until things settled back down that was to be expected. "Frank?" He heard her calling and he pushed off the counter, taking a beer with him as he headed to see what she wanted. "I err...did you get rid of my stuff? I don't mind if you did I just..." she looked at him, her hands fiddling with one another as she asked him nervously.

Shit. "No, it's all in the cabinet." He said, handing her the beer before he bent down to pull out the wicker basket out. There was a moments silence as he set it on the side. "I just..” he trailed off as he looked at her. “None of the rest of your stuff has moved. All your clothes and..." "Frank." She said softly, touching his arm "You don't need to explain. I get it." There was another moment of silence before Frank couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to hold her, feel her and assure her they were going to be okay. He reached out, his arm curling it round her waist and he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. His free hand slid up her back and gently cupped the back of her head, keeping her face pressed to his as he deepened the kiss slightly, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She pressed against him, a soft sigh escaping her as she let him lead before he pulled back, his head pressing to hers, both slightly breathless. "Think I am kinda hungry after all." She smiled and he gave a chuckle. "I'll order a large then...and a portion of fries each." He smiled, nodding to the beer "I've no wine though so..." "Beer is fine." She smiled softly. He gave her another quick kiss before he turned for the door and left her to it. He called through their order before he changed into a pair of sweats and a clean t-shirt before he headed back into the lounge and sat down on the sofa, flicking the TV on. Fred glanced up from his spot on the windowsill as Thor circled slightly before he flopped down on the rug, his tail thumping lazily against the floor as he let out a loud yawn. "You and me both Pal." Frank mimicked the dog with a large yawn of his own as he nestled further back into the cushions. He was relaxed, and for the first time in over a week he actually felt like he was home, despite the fact he had never left. Half an hour or so later their food arrived and he carried it through to the kitchen before he made his way to the bathroom. Poking his head through the door he smiled as Fliss was led, surrounded by bubbles, eyes closed, her long hair piled up on top of her head. "Lissy, food's here." He said gently. She turned to look at him and smiled. "I'll be right there." He flashed her a wink and headed back out of the bathroom. After a moment or two Fliss climbed out of the bath and wrapping a towel around herself headed into the bedroom. Flicking on the lamp by her side of the bed she glanced around. Nothing had changed, Frank was right. Thor’s bed still lay in the corner of the room, the cushions were still on the made bed…all except one thing. The photo of her and Mary that normally sat on Frank’s night stand was face down. Fliss gently walked towards it and reached out, hesitating slightly, before she blinked back her tears and set the photo back correctly before she sat down on the bed.

She’d fucked up, big time. She realised that now. How she had thought keeping the threat from him was the best thing to do she had no idea. But then again, she hadn’t been thinking at all really had she. Her dad was right, she’d been fucking stupid. Rolling her shoulder again she took a deep breath and made her way over to the dresser, pulling out one of her sleep sets. As she dried off and pulled it on, she yawned and realised how fucking drained she was, both physically and mentally. Over the past ten days she’d probably managed an average of three hours sleep a night and after the emotion of the last twenty four hours or so, she was utterly wiped. She bit her lip, before she made a decision and reached for her phone which was charging on her nightstand. First off she fired a message to Joanne telling her she wouldn’t be working tomorrow, explaining that she was back with Frank and they needed to take some time together. Joanne replied almost instantly telling her she would contact her client’s first thing to explain and re-arrange. Then she messaged her dad telling him she had gone home and she would call him in the morning.

Bill replied with a single word. ‘Good.’ She placed her phone back down, pulled her hair out of the messy pile on her head and into a neat braid before she headed out of the room.

Frank, who was just finishing his first slice, looked up as she walked in, smiling at her as she flopped down next to him, tucking her legs underneath her and reached for a piece of pizza. "Franco's?" She asked, taking a bite. "Dur." They sat eating, watching the TV, as if the past ten days had never happened. Deep down Frank wasn’t naive enough to believe that everything would simply go back to normal but it was already feeling a million miles away from when they had first entered the apartment little over an hour ago. He knew that the two of them would need to work through their little blip, but he was confident they would. Whilst he was still frustrated at her, he understood her reasoning and in a strange, unexplainable way he almost loved her more for it, because she had been willing to sacrifice her own happiness, surrender control of her life again to that ass hole, to keep him and Mary safe.

When they had finished eating Frank cleared the boxes away, grabbed them both another beer and sat down. Fliss extended her legs down the sofa, her feet resting in his lap and his hand gently curled around her leg, thumb skating the bare skin of her shinbone.

“What time are you working tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’m not.” She shook her head “I cancelled before. I’m exhausted and, well, to be honest I thought us spending some time together was more important.”

Frank smiled at her “When Mary’s back from Roberta’s, how about we go out for the afternoon?” “We could go to the Alligator Attraction place she’s been talking about since that guy came to the Guides to give them a talk.” Fliss suggested and Frank nodded.

“Yeah, she’ll like that.”

Plans made, they fell once more into silence, their attention on the latest episode of Rick and Morty. Frank chuckled along and just as it ended he cast his eyes to Fliss and gave a soft smile as he realised she’d fallen asleep. Gently, he moved her legs and placed them down on the cushion as he stood up to let Thor out and make sure all the doors were locked. When he came back, she had rolled onto her side, still asleep.

“Lissy?” he crouched down at the side of the sofa, hand reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, you wanna come to bed?” She murmured something and nodded slightly. With a smile he hooked his arms round her, one under her back, the other under her legs and lifted her up. She nuzzled into him, her arms curling around his neck as he carried her into the bedroom and gently set her down, pulling the duvet around her. She shifted slightly onto her side, leaving herself facing his side of the bed. He dropped his phone onto this bedside table and noticed that the photo he had slammed down in a rage had been set the right way up. She must have set it right before when she was getting changed. Thankfully, the glass was still intact. With a soft sigh he stripped off to his boxers before he slipped into bed besides Fliss, Thor getting himself comfy in his basket with Fred happily curling up alongside the dog seeing as Mary wasn’t around. Frank lay still for a moment, simply watching his girl sleep before he himself felt the tendrils of tiredness tugging at him. Shifting slightly so that his arm softly dropped over her waist he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip under.

***** “No..I’m sorry, I said…”

Frank heard Fliss’s voice and he blinked slightly, her anxious protests pulling him from his sleep. It was still pitch black outside and his eyes struggled to focus slightly, but when he did he saw Fliss’ face was contorted into an expression of fear, her eyes still screwed shut as she continued to mutter in her sleep, her voice getting louder. She was clearly in the throes of a nightmare.

“Liss…” his voice croaked, deep with sleep. “Hey, baby, come on…” He gently shook her, hand on her waist and she jerked awake, eyes wide, sitting bolt upright in bed.

“Hey, hey…” he sat up, gently reaching out for her.

“Frank?” she turned towards him, her eyes wide and shining in the dim light as she blinked gaining her focus.

“It’s ok…you were just dreaming…” He soothed. She took a deep breath and he wrapped his arms around her, the pair of them gently sliding back down.

“Sorry, I…” she swallowed, pressing her face into his bare chest as his hands ran up and down her back. “I didn’t mean to wake you…” “It’s ok…” he said softly “Wanna talk about it?” “Just…it’s been the same one for a few days.” she swallowed “Just him and…” “Well he’s not here now.” Frank said softly as her breathing began to regulate, her arms curling around him.

“I’m sorry.” she said gently. “I really am, I should…I should have…” “Liss…” he pulled back slightly to look at her “Stop apologising. I know you’re sorry, and so am I ok?” “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” she sniffed gently and he took a deep breath.

“I shouted, I lost my temper…” “Which you were entitled to do…” “Maybe, but like I’ve always told Mary, you should never stay angry if you can help it.”

She fell silent for a moment before she tipped her head up to his and caught his lips in a soft kiss. She pulled back for a second or two before she pressed her mouth back to his, seeking him out, this time her actions slightly more urgent and he let her lead, let her set the pace, his strong arms simply holding her close. Fliss rolled onto her back, and he went with her, his body leaning over hers, arms still cradling her as she kissed him with such an intensity it was sending every single nerve on his body into a frenzy.

“I missed you.” she whispered into his mouth and he let out a groan.

“I missed you too.” And with that his lips were back on hers as her hands carefully slid up his back, dancing across the muscles of his shoulders before she moved her mouth, soft kisses peppered across his jaw and down his neck. Frank closed his eyes, the touch of her mouth on his skin sending him sky high and his breath caught in his throat as she moved slightly, her lips finding his once more.

The kiss was blazing, doing nothing to help the ache he was feeling for her, and he was trying his best to hold back, to let her take control but he couldn’t stand it any longer. His hands reached down to her hips, grasping her vest top and Fliss moved allowing him to pull it up over her head before his lips crashed back to hers with an urgency which she met back movement for movement. Frank shifted so he was completely led over her, his hands and legs caging her between him as he gently brushed his lips over her jaw, to her neck, and then moved himself downwards, taking his time and lavishing affection all the way down her body as his hands gently parted her legs. His nose skimmed below her bellybutton and he placed a soft kiss onto her tummy before he felt her tugging on his hair.

“Frankie, I want you.” Her voice left him in absolutely no doubt as to what it was she was asking. Gently he pulled down her sleep shorts and discarded his boxers before he kissed his way back up, all the way to her sternum before he gently stroked his thumbs over each of her nipples which were pebbled in anticipation. Fliss arched her back, inhaling sharply as her groin bumped against his. Frank gave a low grumble which rose from the depth of his throat as she twitched underneath him, pressed up against where she needed him most. Taking her hands in his, his thumbs skated over her knuckles before he interlocked their fingers and pressed her hands down on the pillow next to her head.

"I love you so much, Cowgirl." He mumbled leaning down and running his nose alongside hers before kissing her deeply.

"I love you too, Sailor." She responded holding eye contact with him as he slowly slid inside her in a gentle, fluid moment, eliciting a moan from them both as Fliss lay back. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her passionately as he started to roll his hips, driving into her deeply, slowly, his bottom lip nibbling on hers. Fliss rolled her hips up taking him deeper, moans and gasps slipping freely into each other’s mouths as he slowly built up his rhythm, his fingers curling around hers tightly as he watched her, felt her, shudder as he hit her spot again and again with every thrust of his hips until she was writhing underneath him, begging him not to stop.

Whether it was the fact they’d been apart for over a week, or simply the pure emotion of the last twenty hours or so, Frank had no idea, but to him it felt like the most intense love they had ever made. Every single brush of her skin against his, each little grind of his hips, each stroke and glide he made left him completely and utterly confounded, lost in his unadulterated love for the woman underneath him.

When they both fell apart completely immersed in one another, cries of names and curses tumbling from lips, Fliss happily welcomed his weight on top of her as he caught his breath, both of them trembling in the afterglow as he pressed his forehead to hers, gently kissing her nose.

“Ok?” he asked her softly, finally releasing her hands. She flexed her fingers and gently slid her hands round his back, nails softy skating against his skin and Frank closed his eyes in bliss at the feeling it was sparking from his already heightened senses. She nodded, her eyes flickering shut before they opened again and she gave him a soft smile.

The first glimmer of daylight was beginning to break outside as they simply lay there for a while, neither speaking, utterly wrapped up in one another, but eventually Frank gathered enough about him to roll himself to the side where Fliss immediately curled up into his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to her head and closed his eyes, listening to her breathing as it evened out.

***** Frank woke a few hours later, the room now light as the October sun crept through the various spaces in the shutters. He stretched out, smiling as he turned and glanced at Fliss who was flat out next to him on her stomach, her arms folded underneath her pillow. Dropping a soft kiss to her head he swung his legs out of bed, his feet falling flat on the floor whilst he gave a yawn and glanced at his phone, raising his eyebrows as he realised it was almost half 10. Silently he stood up, pulled on his boxers and headed to the kitchen, Thor following him eagerly, clearly dying to get outside.

Leaning against the counter he watched as the dog cocked his leg and peed against a bush by the path, his usual pee spot, whilst the coffee brewed behind him. He knew Thor wouldn’t go far, despite the lack of fencing to keep him in so leaving him to his normal morning sniff around, he tossed some bread into the toaster and poured himself a mug of coffee. Almost as if she could smell it, which in fairness she probably could, Fliss padded into the kitchen, yawning slightly, giving Frank a smile.

“Morning, Honey.” he smiled back, dropping a kiss to her cheek “You want any toast?” She nodded, reaching behind him to grab a mug. “I’m starving.”

Frank gently took the mug from her, poured her a coffee whilst she grabbed herself the creamer and orange juice from the fridge. She frowned at the lack of contents, and Frank watched as she straightened up.

“Don’t” He warned her, teasingly and she shrugged giving a snort.

“We need to go shopping.”

“We can go later.” He said as she fixed her coffee how she liked it and then watched as Thor was now rolling on his back in the grass.

“Do you want me to book the tickets to the animal place online?” She turned to him and Frank pondered for a moment.

“Let’s see what Mary says first.”

“Sure.” Fliss said, her eyes flickering down to the floor “She might not want to go…especially not with me.”

“She’ll come round.” Frank assured “I know her. She’ll have her say and then, well, we move on.” “That simple huh?” Fliss looked at him, as his attention turned to the toast that had popped up.

“That simple.” He nodded, pulling it out and dropping it to the board on the counter, before he turned to the fridge for the butter.

Whilst he made their breakfast Fliss dug out the dog food for Thor which was still in the cupboard, along with his food bowl, his water one having returned to its normal place the night before. Upon hearing the noise of his food hitting his metal dish, the dog came lolling back inside and Fred also appeared, looking up at Frank and winding himself between his legs.

“Get out of it Fred.” He grumbled as Fliss chuckled, bending over to pick the ginger cat up.

“Ignore him Freddy.” she cooed, scratching his ears causing the cat to purr loudly “He loves you really…” Frank rolled his eyes before he slid the plate of toast over the counter. Fliss set Fred on the floor, picked up her plate and the two of them headed into the lounge with their breakfast. Once they had both eaten and had another cup of coffee, Frank showered, dressed and then headed over to Roberta’s, Thor trotting behind him as he went to collect Mary.

“She behaved?” he asked Roberta as Mary came bounding out of the house.

“She always behaves.” Roberta said.

“Sure she does.” Frank looked at the woman, before he looked at Mary, eye brow raised.

“I do for Roberta.” Mary shrugged. Frank gave a snort, before Mary frowned. “Why is Thor here?” “Because Fliss is at the apartment.” He said gently.

“You two sorted things out?” Roberta asked and he glanced over at her.

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Good.” Roberta folded her arms and she looked at Mary who was scowling “Sort your face out, young lady.” Mary glared at her as she scratched at Thor’s ears, before she turned to Frank and looked at him. “So you’ve forgiven her for leaving?”

“Yeah.” he looked at her “I have. And I’m hoping you can do the same.”

Mary didn’t reply, she simply shrugged.

“Good luck with that.” Roberta said, snorting. Frank looked at her, rolled his eyes and thanked her again before he gently dropped his hand to the back of Mary’s head, guiding her back to the apartment.

“Listen, Stack.” He stopped just outside and crouched down to face her. “I know you’re angry and upset, and you have every right to be. But Fliss left because she didn’t know what else to do. She’s gonna try and explain to you as best she can ok but you need to listen to her. Think you can do that for me?”

Mary looked at him, her head cocking to one side before she gave a soft sigh “ok.”

“Thank you.” he said, dropping a kiss to her head as he stood up. She headed up the steps in front of him and walked into the house, heading straight into the living room. Fliss looked up from where she was sat on the sofa.

“Hi.” she began, but Mary cut her off.

“Let’s hear it then.” She demanded, flopping onto the chair opposite Fliss, arms folded. “Why did you leave?”

Fliss took a deep breath and looked at Frank who simply nodded at her. She swallowed and looked at Mary, the girls large, blue eyes studying her face.

“Do you remember Frank telling you about my ex-husband? How he was in prison but he got let out?” Mary nodded.

“Fliss moved away from Boston for a reason Mary.” Frank took over, sitting next to Fliss, leaning forward, his body language open as it always was when he spoke to his niece “To get away from him and everyone when he went to prison. But since he got released, well he’s been sending her things.” “Last week he sent me something that made me worry that if I stayed here you and Frank could be in danger.” Fliss looked at her.

“What do you mean, danger?”

“It’s an empty threat.” Frank cut in. “He won’t, and can’t do anything, but Fliss got scared, same way you’re scared of snakes getting into your bed even though there’s like zero chance of that happening. Not with Fred on patrol.” Mary frowned slightly, before she looked back to Fliss “So you didn’t want to leave?” “No, baby, of course I didn’t.” Fliss said as she stood up. She dropped to her knees in front of Mary and looked up at the girl. “I’ve never wanted to do anything less but I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t…” Fliss bowed her head. “I should have told Frank, not tried to deal with it all on my own. I hurt you, I hurt Frank and I was wrong…” she looked up at Mary, “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“So are you back now?”

“If that’s okay?” Fliss asked “If not, then I can stay at the Annex and just come over a few nights a week, like I did before I moved in.” Mary looked at her, then to Frank, then back to Fliss before she shrugged “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Frank made as if to speak but Fliss held her hand up, telling him to stop.

“Thank you.” she said and Mary nodded as Fliss stood up. She looked at Frank who was perched on the sofa watching Mary carefully. He licked his lips and glanced at Fliss who gave him a smile.

“Ok, so, now that’s kind of sorted…” Frank spoke, and Mary looked at him. “Fliss thought you might like to go to the Alligator Attraction place.” “No, I mean yes, please, can we?” Mary looked at him, her eyes wide with excitement “I’ve wanted to go for weeks.” “Don’t you need time to think about that too?” Frank teased and Mary stood up rolling her eyes.

“You’re not funny, Frank…” she sing-songed at him as she made her way to the door “I’ll go grab my stuff…you two better change, you can’t go dressed like that.” Frank glanced down at his sweat pants and scruffy T-shirt, then to Fliss who was still in her pyjamas.

“Guess she has a point.” he chuckled, pulling Fliss down onto his lap. “You ok?” “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” she said, giving him a quick kiss “But I have a feeling if we keep her waiting I won’t be.”

******

The Alligator Attraction tuned out to be pretty fun. They spent the entire afternoon walking around viewing the 50 plus gators, the other reptiles and small mammals that the centre cared for, Mary taking particular liking to a sloth which was hanging around on a branch in one of the areas they walked into. She also enjoyed feeding the small alligators whilst standing on a bridge over the pool they were kept in, dangling small pieces of meat into the water using metal rod. It was perfect for her as she could ask questions to her curious, little heart’s content, their guide answering her expertly, smiling at her as she gabbled on and on. Her favourite bit, however, was when she got to handle a small gator, one that was less than a week old. Her eyes wide, she had gently cupped the animal and grinned, turning her face up to Frank.

“No.” he said, snorting “You can’t have one.” “Dur.” she rolled her eyes “I know that, it would eat Fred and probably Thor. Maybe you.” she shrugged

“Glad to see where I come on your list of priorities.” he snorted and Fliss laughed as she simply shrugged.

After giving Mary twenty bucks to spend in the gift shop, which she took ages over, they headed back to the truck, Mary’s hand linked into Frank’s as they walked, the bag containing the books and activity packs she’d picked in his other. To Fliss’ surprise, and delight, Mary reached up and took her hand too, and Frank glanced over at Fliss, giving her a wink.

“So….” Frank spoke as they got to the car “I was thinking…what about McDonald’s for tea?” “Mmmm.” Mary made a face, and Frank’s eyebrow raised at the fact she was turning down a Happy Meal.

“You want something else?” Fliss asked her.

“Could you make us my salad?” she asked, “Frank really can’t cook and I’m sick of burgers.” Fliss gave a chuckle and ruffled her hair as Frank scoffed, folding his arms.

“Rude.” he mumbled.

“True.” Mary looked at him.

“Get in the truck.” he said, pointing in, mock anger on his face. She grinned at him and slid into the middle seat as Frank looked at Fliss over the roof. “Well, suppose we better go shopping.”

An hour later they were walking back up to the apartment, laden with bags. Mary spotted Roberta and in typical Mary style immediately invited her over for dinner. The woman began to protest at first until Fliss eagerly assured her it was fine.

As Fliss bustled about in the kitchen, Frank and Mary were sat on the floor by the coffee table looking at some of the stuff Mary had bought from the shop before. Roberta wandered into the kitchen and watched Fliss for a second before she spoke.

“Can I help or…”

“If you don’t mind, you could slice the pears?” Fliss asked, nodding to the pack that was on the side, “Just into rough slices.”

“Sure.” Roberta smiled, reaching over for a knife. “How as Mary this afternoon?” Understanding what she was asking, Fliss took a deep breath “She was okay. She listened, I hope I explained well enough but I did her wrong and it’s gonna take a bit of time I suppose.” “Well, she seems fine now.” Roberta said, chopping the fruit. “And the fact you’re still here means she ain’t kicked up too much of a fuss.”

“She said she was going to think about whether I could stay or not.” Fliss smiled, gently opening the oven to check on the chicken as Roberta gave a snort.

“She’s a little madam.” She said, shaking her head.

“She’s great.” Fliss whispered fondly before she felt herself tearing up slightly.

“Oh, honey.” Roberta sighed as she placed the knife down and moved to pull Fliss into a hug “It’ll work out…” “I know, I just…” Fliss took a deep breath “I can’t help feeling bad about what I did…”

“Frank told me why you left.” Roberta soothed her, “And I’ll tell you exactly what I told him…” she pulled back, allowing Fliss to wipe at her face before she locked eyes with her “Maybe the way you did it wasn’t ideal but, well, I understand why. When you love someone so much you’ll do anything to keep them safe, just like he did.” Fliss nodded, giving a small smile as Roberta squeezed her arm “I’ve never seen him, or that little girl as happy as they are with you, in the entire seven and a bit years I’ve known them. The two of you just work, and I know that you’ll get through this. You just might need a little bit of patience.” “Thanks Roberta…” Fliss smiled at her, nodding before the older woman gave her a last smile, before they both turned back prepped the salad, Fliss tossing the chopped ingredients into a bowl before Roberta handed her the dressing at the same time she pulled the wine bottle from the fridge.

“Time for a refill?”

Fliss gave a laugh and smiled as Roberta topped up both their glasses.

“Any cooking going on in here or just drinking?” Frank asked, leaning in the doorway.

“Oh hush.” Roberta looked at him, “We’re women, we can multitask.”

“That so?” he teased, heading to the fridge for a beer. “Bet you can’t do this though…” He popped the lid off his beer before tossing it in the air and catching it expertly on the back of his hand.

“Wow…I’m sure that’s a skill you’ll need to use in life again and again.” Roberta deadpanned as Fliss laughed. Frank arched an eyebrow at her as the woman pushed past him in the doorway, giving him a significant look as she headed to find Mary. Frank watched Fliss as she began to toss the dressing through the salad slightly, stepping forward he placed his beer down and wrapped his arms round her from behind. He dropped a soft kiss to her neck and stayed pressed to her as she finished off the salad with the blue cheese and walnuts.

“You’re gonna need to move.” she said gently, and he shook his head.

“Nope. I’m good here…” “It wasn’t a request.” Fliss chuckled as she turned to face him, his hands resting on counter behind her, trapping her between him and the kitchen surface.

“Cost ya.” he shrugged. “What?”

He arched an eyebrow and she grinned, leaning up to place a kiss on his lips before she gently pushed his chest.

“I’ll burn the chicken…” she tried again and he grinned, stepping to the side to let her move out from before him and pull the tray out of the oven. “Can you set the table?” she turned to him “It’s done.” “Sure.” he nodded and began grabbing the stuff from the drawers before he moved over to the dining area.

Fliss quickly sliced the chicken and placed it on plates before she walked through to the dining area, dropping them around the various place settings before returning a few moments later with the salad. Mary was waiting eagerly and Frank couldn’t serve the damned stuff out fast enough for her as she started shovelling it into her mouth the minute it hit her plate.

“You’re gonna choke.” he told her. She responded simply by turning her eyes onto him, giving him a reproachful look. Fliss gave a smile at the look on Mary’s face, turning her attention to her own plate. She listened to the two of them as they began to bicker, Mary giving smart ass come backs to everything Frank shot at her as she chewed her food, lost in her own thoughts. It had been a nice day, but she still couldn’t shake off the feeling of anxiety she had over Mary not being completely happy she was back, even if the little girl had seemed fairly affectionate before as they left the Alligator Park. As she shifted in her seat slightly, under the table she felt Frank’s hand softly rubbing at her leg and she dropped her hand over his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Girl you got your costume for the Scout’s Halloween party yet?” Roberta looked at Mary and she nodded.

“Yep, I’m going as a Pirate.” “A pirate?” Fliss asked and glanced at Frank, who rolled his eyes.

“It was her Idea, not mine.” “I’m going as Captain Jack Sparrow.” she looked at Fliss who nodded.

“Well, as far as Pirate’s go that’s a good choice…”

“I think so too.” Mary nodded, turning to Frank and indicating her empty plate “Is there anymore please?”

Frank nodded and took her plate off her, giving her another helping of the salad before he plated himself more up and then offered some to Roberta. She declined as did Fliss, who leaned back in her chair, her wine glass in her hand simply watching as Frank and Mary tucked in to their seconds. Once the salad was done, everyone managed a decent sized bowl of fruit salad and ice cream before Mary retreated to her room under Frank’s instruction to take a quiet hour or so before bed. Roberta stayed as Frank opened another bottle of wine, the three of them chatting away until the bottle was finished and Roberta stood up.

“I’ll walk ya home…” Frank offered and Roberta turned to him and laughed

“Anybody wanna try anything with me on my home patch then they’re in for an ass whoopin’” she spoke, eyeing him up and down. “I’ll be fine, you stay with your girl.” “You sure?” “Positive.” she nodded “You want me to call you when get in, so you know I’m back safely?” she added sarcastically and Frank sighed, folding his arms. Roberta laughed, gently patting his arm before she looked at Fliss who was stood in the doorway behind him. “Thanks Fliss, the dinner was great.”

“Any time.”

“Don’t tell her that…” Frank said in a loud whisper “We’ll never get rid of her.”

“Piss off.” Roberta flipped him off as she headed down the steps, and across the lawn towards the lit footpath which wound between the various apartments. Frank watched until she was out of sight before he closed the door and locked it behind him.

“Sorry.” he looked at Fliss who frowned at him.

“What for?”

“Having Roberta over probably wasn’t what you had planned…” “Oh, I don’t mind.” Fliss smiled “I like Roberta, you know that.”

Frank’s hands dropped to Fliss’ hips as her arms slid up over his chest, coming to rest on his shoulders.

“Leave the dishes…” he smiled, “Come to bed.”

“There’s not that many to do…” she began to protest but Frank’s fingers flexed on her waist and she gave a small laugh “Ok, ok, you’re the boss.” “Sorry, say that again…” “Don’t push it.” she narrowed her eyes as Frank gave her a cheeky grin, dropping a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Go on, I’ll be in a moment.”

Smiling at him she headed down the hallway, pausing outside Mary’s room. She gently knocked on the door and then poked her head round to see Mary was led watching her TV.

“We’re going to bed now Mary.” Fliss smiled at her “Just wanted to say goodnight.” “Ok, goodnight.” Mary said, her eyes not moving off the film.

Fliss hesitated for a moment, as this would be the point where normally she’d head over and give her a hug and a kiss goodnight but she didn’t want to push things. Instead she gave a nod and then turned to leave.

“Thank you for today.” Mary spoke again and Fliss paused, spinning back to face her. “I enjoyed the Gators and stuff.”

“You’re welcome.” Fliss smiled.

“Can we ride tomorrow?” Mary asked her, yawning slightly and Fliss nodded, eagerly.

“Of course we can. We can do the trail if you like?” Mary smiled giving another small yawn. “Ok, night Fliss…” “Night honey.” she smiled, “Sweet dreams.”

She once again made to leave but Mary stopped her again.

“I’ve decided you can stay.” Fliss took a deep breath, and turned to face her. “Thank you.” Mary held her arms out and Fliss smiled, walking over to her. She stood on the bottom rung of the steps which led to the raised cabin bed and wrapped her arms around the little girl.

“Love you.” Fliss whispered gently into Mary’s hair, blinking away tears, as Mary’s arms tightened around her neck.

“Love you too, Lissy”

She smiled, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and turned to leave, smiling as Frank walked into the room.

“Time to turn off, Stack.” he gestured to the TV as Fliss left the room. He watched her go before he looked back at Mary “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Mary said “We’re going riding tomorrow.” “That so?” he asked, his arms hanging over the wooden boards that surrounded her bed, smiling.

“Yeah. Do you think Verity will be doing a roast dinner as its Sunday?” “I’m sure she will.” Frank smiled, brushing her hair back. “I’ll get Fliss to ask her.”

“I said she could stay.” Mary looked at Frank. “Fliss, I mean. I don’t want her to go again.” Frank smiled and dropped a kiss to Mary’s head “She won’t. And thank you for giving her another chance. It means a lot.”

“Well, you say we should always forgive when we can.” she looked at him “Because it’s the right thing to do. And that staying angry isn’t nice for anyone.” “I did.” he smiled again “Guess you do listen to me, huh?” “Sometimes. Other times you talk rubbish.” she shrugged. Frank gave a chuckle and then reached for the remote, turning the TV off.

“That I do.” he agreed and watched as Fred hopped up onto the dresser before he jumped and landed on the bed, curling himself up around Mary’s head on her pillow. Frank scratched his ear slightly before he smiled again “Goodnight Mary. “Night Frank.”

He closed the door behind him and headed into their bedroom, Fliss was looking at something on her phone, Thor sprawled on the bed on his back, one of her hands gently rubbing at his belly.

“So she said you could stay?” Frank mused, pulling off his T-shirt. Fliss looked up and set her phone on the side, smiling.

“Yeah.” she said as Frank settled next to her, flicking the TV over to find something they could both fall asleep to. “I’m relieved, not gonna lie.”

“I told you she’d come round.” Frank said, as she snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. He glanced down at her, his lips brushing against her forehead “She loves you.” “I love her.” Fliss said softly, her hand brushing over his stomach “And you.” “Well, that’s a given…” Frank smirked as she looked up at him, as he gestured to himself with his hand “I mean, what’s not to love?”

There was a pause and quick as a flash, Fliss grabbed one of the throw cushions and hit him with it.

“You’re a dick.” she laughed as he caught the pillow, and wrenched it out of her hand, tossing it across the room. He grabbed her hips and gave a quick tug so she was led flat on the bed as he hovered over her, grinning.

“But I’m your dick.”

Fliss smiled at him, her hands running through his soft hair. “Yeah, yeah you are.” she nodded, her eyes locking onto his as he kissed her again and once more they lost themselves completely in one another.

**** Chapter 23

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x original female character #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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themysteriousphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Path

“Tina, what are you doing?” Jacob asked as soon as Newt had disappeared down the ladder into his case. “You’ve barely said two words to the guy since we found you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tina said huffily as she pulled at the knot holding her dark coat closed against her body. She was so hot, she needed freedom, she needed air. She tugged, finally pulling the knot free, and peeled the heavy leather from her arms as blessedly cool air kissed the dampness beneath. She sighed heavily, placing the coat over the arm of the only chair left that had not been claimed by the lifeless form of Yusuf Kama.

“Tina…” Jacob trailed off, one eyebrow raised in defiance to her coolness. She knew what he was trying to talk about, and as much as she liked Jacob, he wasn’t the one she was going to spill her heart to. He didn’t have to know about the way Newt had cast her aside after leading her on through truly...marvelous letters.

She shook her head. No Tina, she thought as she glanced down at the open lid of the case. What was done was done, no amount of prodding from Jacob would get her to forgive Newt for all the pain he had caused.

“What’s got you so upset, Tina? He came here just to find--”

“I don’t really care why he’s here, Jacob.” Tina interrupted, her hands finding purchase on her hips as she looked across the room at the man who she wanted to call a friend. His very existence had caused a rift between her sister and herself. She turned away from him, pretending to look down at Kama. One hand smoothed over her hair in frustration, resting at the back of her head as she looked down, not seeing what was before her.

It’s not Jacob’s fault.

She knew that. As much as she wanted to place blame on him, as much as he was the easy scapegoat, it wasn’t his fault. Her sister loved him and he loved her. Tina knew that, but she knew that her belief in the law and her sister’s headstrong personality had finally reached that point of no return. It was them together or apart. There was no compromise, at least there hadn’t been then. Months later, Tina knew better and she blamed herself for the rift between them every day. Queenie had hurt her too, though. So much.

You’re just jealous. At least my guy wants to be with me.

Tina closed her eyes as Jacob started speaking again, the sound reaching her ears but not quite reaching her thoughts. That one hurtful line from Queenie had sealed their fate, had separated them when Tina had stormed out of the apartment, and had made her even angrier at Newt. He tossed her to the side and then she was jealous. She knew that she had been, the unrelenting clench in her stomach when she had found Queenie and Jacob that night had been only half about the law. She was scared for her sister, for the man that she would otherwise love to call her brother-in-law in different circumstances...but she was just as jealous that Queenie’s fella was there in their living room and her own was miles across the sea, engaged to his childhood sweetheart. It had stung severely.

“Tina...Tina.”

“What?” Tina started, her eyes swinging around to meet Jacobs where he leaned against the doorframe.

“I asked why you’re so mad at him.”

Tina pursed her lips and looked away again, this time with purpose. “It doesn’t matter, Jacob,” she said shortly. She reached down into her coat pocket, rooting around until she found the small black book. She was looking for something to do with her hands, anything that could occupy her mind. Her fingers closed around the book just as a faint roar issued from the open case across the room. Tina stilled and turned around to look at it, the book clutched tightly in her hand. Jacob looked down, unphased, then back up at Tina who was looking wide-eyed at the case.

“I just think that if a fella comes all the way from another country to find his girl, it might mean something.” Jacob looked pointedly at Tina who scoffed and tore her eyes away from the case. She dropped into the chair, slamming the book too hard onto her knee.

“I’m not his girl.”

Jacob snorted and Tina glanced up at him, annoyed. “What are you laughing at?”

“You are,” he said chuckling, “you have no idea what he went through to get here.”

“I’m not. I won’t ever be, and I really don’t appreciate you waltzing in here and throwing all of this in my face again. First Queenie and now you, and I’m sick of it.” Tina flung the book open, hearing the rip of a page. She slowed her movements and ran her finger over the rip, smoothing it out, “He’s made his choice, and it wasn’t me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jacob said, his hands out in front of him in a sign of peace as he pushed himself off the doorframe and began walking toward her. Another roar and a distant thump issued from the case on the floor, but both occupants of the room ignored it. “What’re you talking about, Teen?”

“Oh, come off it, Jacob. I know he's probably bragged all about it by now.” She flipped pages absently, finding her way to the naturally creased pages of the twentieth prophecy. She could see the words in front of her, swimming in her vision, memorized weeks ago.

"A son cruelly banished

Despair of the daughter

Return, great avenger

With wings from the water."

Jacob laughed again. “What on Earth would Newt possibly be bragging about? I don’t know that the guy has ever bragged about a single thing in his whole life.”

Tina slammed the book shut and leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms. “His engagement! Mercy Lewis, Jacob…”

Jacob looked at her, stunned. His hand slowly rose to run through his slicked hair, displacing the strands at the back of his head. “My God...he…you…” His eyes widened as he looked at her, his arms loosely falling to his sides. “No wonder you twos stopped writin’ to each other. He’s not…”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Jacob.” Tina closed her eyes tightly, her fingers gripping tightly to the book in her lap.

“You guys need to talk.”

“No, Jacob. Now please, leave me alone. Please. This is hard enough.”

“No, Tina...you two really need to talk.” He was smiling. Why on earth was he smiling right now?

“Jacob, no.”

“Alright. Suit yourself.” Jacob said in a clipped voice, wandering off toward the kitchen. He looked back once over his shoulder before slipping through the dark doorway. She could hear cupboards creaking open and slamming shut mixing with the dull roars coming from the case. Tina closed her eyes tightly and rubbed her temples. She stood and paced across the room, then back to the chair. She turned to listen to the roars from the case, her heart clenching in her chest as she looked at the various drawings and baggage tickets from his travels. He’d even kept the New York ticket. Tina rolled her eyes and began her pacing again.

I should just leave. Run away from here and never look back.

The plan in her head sounded perfect, but there was one very large problem, and he was laying across the chaise lounge. She needed to figure out what was wrong with Mr. Kama, take him into the Ministry, and she needed to figure out what to do quickly. Her whole body was tense and she wanted to leave as soon as possible.

She was frustrated, mad, and hurt. Seeing Newt again had awakened something that she had pushed down deep inside of her for months, since she had tossed that final letter from him into the box beneath her bed, the tears streaming down her face as she thought of Leta’s hand on his arm, the sparkling ring on her hand announcing to the world that he had chosen his childhood love. Not Tina, never Tina. He had moved on, he had never felt anything, and she had wasted months of her life and given her heart to a man who didn’t appreciate or even want it.

But that moment in the sewer, she had seen him and she forgot everything, just for a moment. Tina had forgotten the intensity of his eyes when they connected with her own. His look had nearly broken her as she came down off of the initial shock of seeing him in Paris. He had looked pleased to see her, but she had wanted to hit him, shove him, touch him, kiss him…

No, Tina.

He wasn’t hers. He never would be.

She straightened up, perching on the edge of the chair. Her stomach muscles were tensed to the point of pain, and she bit her lip, hard, as she flipped her book open again. She wasn’t seeing the words, though she could recite every last syllable on the page. Her eyes traveled to Kama once again as her brain tried to think up a way, any way, to wake him.

She continued to pretend to read, though her eyes shifted toward the case when Jacob came around the corner, his walk showing purpose. He squeezed between the edge of the case and the staircase, making his way to the living area where Tina was sitting. Her eyes looked down, trained on the words as Jacob doubled back toward the case.

“Hey, Newt! Buddy, uh...Tina’s up here and she’s all by her lonesome…”

Tina’s eyes snapped up as she rounded to look at Jacob’s back where he leaned over the case.

Damn it, Jacob!

“...and maybe you want to come up and keep her company?”

Tina looked back at her book, the nerves sending her body into fight or flight mode. She bit her bottom lip, hard, and she tasted the metallic swirl of blood as she closed her eyes. Jacob was still yelling down into Newt’s case. His world.

Maybe he could help her. Maybe he had a creature that could help. Newt always knew how to handle these situations. Then, she could leave.

Okay, wake Kama and leave. Then you’ll never have to see him again.

Tina turned to look at the case as Newt ascended, his rough, scarred hands resting on the lip of the battered leather box that held his whole life’s work. She felt her eyes widen and her jaw slacken as she watched him.

Business, Goldstein. Get what you need from him and leave. He doesn’t love you. No more of this.

Tina took a deep breath and stood up, closing her book with an audible snap. Newt had been talking and she waited for him to finish. As hurt as she was, she still loved his voice. The way his vowels rolled off his tongue still made her want to smile. She had to push that aside, though.

Enough, now.

“Mr. Scamander, do you have anything in your case that might help revive this man?”

#Newtina #newtina fanfiction #newt x tina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #fbweek2020 #deleted scene #fantastic fanfiction #fbawtft #fbatcog #missing moment #ashley writes

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