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WangXian: Together Side By Side
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rafesaddiction · 8 months
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It's not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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See here for part 2
Summary: You and your best friend Rafe want to watch some movies together, but your jealous boyfriend keeps calling you and makes you cry. Rafe takes care of you.
Concept: best friends, one bed
Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), jealousy, hints at toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe, but also kinda mean!rafe
Word count: 3.9k
“Now what has the dick done this time?”
“His name is Nick and you know that,” you punched your best friend against his chest, causing him to mouth an “ouch!” and rub the spot you had hit, pretending to be hurt, though you knew even if you'd tried, you could not actually hurt him. He was so much stronger than you. And hitting him with your fist, you just felt his hard muscles and actually hurt your own hand a little.
“Whatever. He's a dick for sure,” Rafe shrugged, reached over you to grab the popcorn. His arm brushed your chest, just hardly touching your shirt, and weirdly it made you shiver.
You frowned at Rafe who had already turned his face towards the TV screen again. You were sitting next to him on the floor in front of his bed. Sure it wasn't as comfortable as if you had been sitting on the bed, but it was kind of your thing. Yours and Rafe's. When you were kids you used to do that all the time, sit as close to the TV screen as possible, because “it was like going to the movies”, the screen seemed so much bigger. Now the screen was actually huge, it still felt bigger sitting on the floor and looking up. You kind of felt like kids again, even though you were both adults now. It was a feeling of nostalgia, something you hadn't known you had missed that much.
It had been a while since you had done this, just a movie night with your best friend since childhood. Though your college wasn't that far away from the island, you had hardly seen Rafe in the last couple of months. And you'd missed this, hanging out with your best friend. Watching a movie marathon – Rafe had picked tonight's movies: all four John Wick films. And even though you had rolled your eyes when Rafe told you, you had to admit the movies were actually fun to watch. And you enjoyed yourself, eating popcorn, sitting next to each other, chatting or just watching in silence when a scene got extremely exciting.
You enjoyed yourself more than you had in a while. And you were so glad that you had agreed to spending time with Rafe before you would have to drive back to college the next day.
Well, you had enjoyed yourself, until your phone just wouldn't keep quiet. You had it on silent, but you could see the screen blinking. And you couldn't ignore it, because it might be important.
It was your boyfriend who had been texting you. And you hated to leave him on read, so you replied. But he didn't stop. You told him – again – you would call him later, you were watching movies with your best friend. His answer wasn't what you had hoped for.
You were just typing back when Rafe asked you what your boyfriend had done.
You really didn't want to talk about it, you wanted to relax, not think about your boyfriend or college or the next day when you would have to return, not think about how much you had missed just being yourself in the company of your best friend.
But your phone kept ringing. Your boyfriend was now calling you. You sighed.
You saw Rafe glancing at you sideways.
You should just put your phone away, and ignore it. But you were already too upset to enjoy the movie.
So you got up.
“I gotta take this,” you told Rafe, pointing at your phone, and you didn't even wait for his reply, but went to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind you.
You took a deep breath before answering the phone.
“Hi babe, I—” But your boyfriend didn't let you finish. He started talking right away, though it wasn't actually talking, he was yelling at you. He was furious that you had ignored him. You tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen.
“Why haven't you told me who you are meeting?”
“I didn't think it was such a big deal. Rafe's my best friend, you know that. I've known him since forever…”
Your boyfriend went to high school with you, so he knew who Rafe Cameron was. And he had never gotten along with him. Which was okay, because you only started dating at college. And that was when you found out that he hated your best friend. But since you hardly ever saw Rafe, he was never really a topic in your relationship. Until now.
“Don't think I'm stupid, y/n. He's not just a friend. He's Rafe Cameron.”
“But he is my friend!” You had tried to keep quiet, but your emotions were in turmoil. You didn't know how it had happened, but you were almost feeling angry.
“A friend who wants to fuck you. But that's what you want, huh? You just wanna be one of his dumb sluts? He's using you!”
Tears filled your eyes and you couldn't hold them back at his harsh words.
“That's not true,” your voice sounded weak and you sobbed.
He wouldn't listen. He just accused you of these ridiculous things, calling you names, and then he just hung up. You tried to call him back, but the call went straight to voice mail.
Your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast, you felt it would explode in your chest. Tears were running down your cheeks, but you didn't even care to wipe them from your face when you left the bathroom to return to Rafe's bedroom.
He was still sitting on the floor in front of the bed. The movie was paused, you noticed from the silence in the room, and it kind of touched you that he had been so considerate to pause the movie, so you wouldn't miss a scene.
He looked up at you, but you tried to avoid his gaze as you walked closer.
“I need to go,” you said, hardly audibly.
“What?” Rafe frowned at you. “Dicky calls and you come running?”
For a moment, you wondered if he was hurt. After all, you had promised to spend time with him, watch a John Wick marathon. And you hadn't seen him for so long.
“I can't do this now,” you sniffled and shook your head. You couldn't deal with your best friend's hurt feelings too now, even though you felt bad. But you needed to leave now, you needed to make things right with your boyfriend.
You reached down to pick up your bag that was lying on the floor next to Rafe, when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You let out a surprised gasp as you fell right onto his lap, where he caught you, where he held you.
You struggled and tried to get up.
“Let me go, asshole,” you punched his shoulder, but Rafe only held you closer in both his arms.
“What now? I'm the asshole, but he makes you cry?”
Rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look at him when you tried to turn your face away.
“Let me go,” you said, blinking tears away.
“Only when you tell me what's going on. What has he done to you?”
You tried to shake your head, struggling to get up, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and the way he held you, held you like he would never let go off you, you became overwhelmed by your emotions, no longer able to get your act together, instead of pushing away, you now clung to your best friend. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, and he held you. Tears were soaking his shirt and he caressed your hair. You were shaking and trembling and sobbing, and Rafe pulled you closer.
This side of him wasn't new to you, but no one else knew him like this, caring, protecting. And you had only seen him like this on few occasions. And it was like your body reacted to his. Though your feelings were still in turmoil, your shaking had stopped, your crying became quieter. Your hands were still clinging to the fabric of his shirt.
He was quiet and you could just feel his calm breathing, when you got quieter yourself after some time. He did not say anything, did not urge you. And you felt so comfortable. So safe. And you realized that you hadn't felt like this in months. You hadn't felt like this since you left.
You were only sobbing quietly after a while and moved your head back, to gaze at your best friend.
He looked at you, and on his lips was a little smile, as if he was looking at something precious.
You suddenly became very aware of his gaze.
“Don’t look at me. I look like a mess,” you cast your eyes down.
“Hot mess,” he said softly and you felt your cheeks flushing.
You tried to punch his chest, but he caught your fist in his hand, wrapping it around it, holding it. This time, you didn't try to struggle and pull it away, you felt this warmth from the closeness, not just surrounding your hand. You looked up from his big hand holding yours to his face, finding his eyes still on you.
“You're fucking beautiful and if he doesn't make you feel that way, he doesn't deserve you.”
An incredible heat was rushing to your face and you knew you were blushing crimson.
“You only say that because you’re my best friend.”
“I shouldn't say that because I am your best friend…”
Your lips opened at his words, but instead of speaking you only breathed in. And you could feel his breath on your face, on your lips. You closed your mouth and unconsciously your tongue touched your lips, as if trying to feel something there.
His blue eyes looked at you, so intensely, you could almost feel them on you.
His fingers moved and he was caressing your hand still in his. It was such a light movement, such a delicate touch, but it sent waves of electricity through your body. This tingling sensation made you restless and your body wriggled in his arms, making you well aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap. You inhaled sharply.
“I should go,” you mumbled and tried to get up.
Rafe held you tighter, his hand around your fist pressed against is chest. His other arm around your back.
“Rafe, let me go,” you urged.
“Only when you tell me what he's done to you.”
“Nothing.”
You shook your head, but Rafe suddenly gripped your jaws again, and this time so hard, it hurt a little. He looked at you, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his forehead and his voice was so stern, so commanding, it made you shiver.
“What did he say to you? Tell me now.”
You looked down with your eyes but somehow you couldn't refuse his command.
“He called me a dumb slut and said you just wanted to use me.”
There was silence, a cold, icy silence. You watched his face.
His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaws clenched.
“I'm gonna kill him.”
You saw his eyes darken, his handsome features grew tense. And even though you were sure that he didn't mean what he said, you felt a shiver running down your spine, because he kind of looked as if he meant it.
He was about to get up, and you were slipping from his lap in that motion. But you clung to him.
“No, Rafe, don't!”
And even though you were weaker than him, your hands pressed on his broad shoulders and you somehow managed to push him down, so he remained seated and you found yourself straddling his lap now.
His chest was rising and falling, as if from exhaustion. His hands found your hips and you felt you were panting too. Suddenly feeling so hot and restless.
“I'm gonna go,” you said, but you didn't get up.
“I can't let you drive like this. You’re a bad driver anyway, and you'll surely crash into some tree or something when you drive in this state.”
You frowned at his words.
“But I need to get back to college in the morning.”
You felt his hands grip your hips firmer, even though you didn't try to move.
“You can just stay the night and drive in the morning after you've rested.”
It wouldn't be the first night you spent at your best friend's. Though it had been a while.
“Rose is redecorating the guest room – again. You can't sleep in there. But you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”
“But –”
“No buts.”
And that and the stern look on his face shut you up.
You weren't in the mood to continue watching the movie marathon and it was late anyway, so you decided to go to sleep. Rafe gave you one of his t-shirts to wear for the night, and you went into the bathroom to change and wash your face. It was a warm night, so you only wore the t-shirt over your panties, it was way too big for you, but it was extremely comfortable.
When you returned to the bedroom, you found Rafe putting a blanket on the floor next to the bed, making some make-shift bed. He was just wearing boxer briefs, and even though the light was dim, you could see his well-defined body clearly. You'd seen him like this before, of course. Like when you had been at the beach or swimming in the pool. Yet somehow, seeing him in his underwear felt different, more intimate.
You stood there, hands clutching the hem of the oversized t-shirt at your thighs. And you looked at him when he straightened up and turned towards you.
You felt his eyes travelling over your body and you quickly started moving towards the bed.
“What are you doing there?”
Rafe tilted his head. You pointed at the floor.
“You don't have to sleep on the floor. Your bed is big enough for the two of us. This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, maybe I don't want to get hit when you're tossing and turning in your sleep?”
“I did that once! When I was eight!”
“Once was enough. And it really hurt when you punched my ribs in your sleep. So, no thank you. I'll take the floor.”
Rafe took a pillow from the bed and was about to set it on the floor when you grabbed his arm, to get that pillow back.
“You're stupid. This is stupid!”
You frowned at him, pulled at his arm, to get the pillow, and in your struggling with him, he must have lost balance, because you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed and Rafe was lying on top of you. That pillow still in his hand, your hand around his wrist, with his arm and yours above your head on the bed.
You looked up at him, your face just an inch away from his. You could hardly see his features, but you felt the proximity, felt it so intensely. Felt that heat that was radiating from his body, felt it crawling over your skin. You felt the weight of his body on yours. And your breathing got harder.
You felt him shift, just a bit, on top of you, as if trying not to crush you and you inhaled and his scent filled your lungs.
You felt a light touch on your cheek. The fingertips of his free hand caressed your face.
“I'll sleep in the bed with you, if you promise me not to cry over that douchebag anymore,” his voice low, as he spoke those words, moving his lips so close hovering over yours. His eyes held your gaze. You nodded softly. And he got up and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
You kept lying on your back, just for some seconds, unable to move, still feeling his fingertips on your cheek, his body's weight pressing you down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
But then the bed tilted and you looked to the side, seeing that Rafe was getting into the bed, and you moved to make room for him.
You lay on your side, facing him as he pulled the blanket over you. His face once again close to yours, just for some seconds.
“Night, y/n.”
“Good night, Rafe.”
He turned on his back and switched off the lights. You turned to the other side and closed your eyes, focused on his breathing. You felt your own heart beating so rapidly at first, but after some time, you got calmer and were able to relax.
You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up, you felt Rafe's body close behind yours, his arm loosely wrapped around you. You smelled his dark scent so intensely, felt his heat getting under your shirt. You felt his breath at the back of your head and a light shiver was running down your spine.
“Rafe?” You softly whispered his name, but he must have been fast asleep. He didn't answer, didn't move.
Carefully you placed your hand on his, your fingertips feeling along his long fingers.
He didn't move. His breathing still so calm.
His chest was pressing against your back and you could feel his regular heartbeat. It felt so familiar. You felt so safe.
And yet you couldn't stay still.
You bit your lips and moved, just a bit, arching your back, moving your butt back, pressing it against his crotch.
His breathing remained calm, telling you, he was still asleep, still unaware of what you were doing.
And you moved your butt just a little bit more and you felt him, felt him so prominently, you gasped in surprise. That tingling you felt turned into something hotter and you felt your core pulsing all of a sudden. You were breathing through your opened mouth as you felt this heat rushing through your body.
But Rafe was still breathing calmly, he was still asleep.
You felt him stir behind you, felt how hard he was, poking against your ass.
His palm was on your lower stomach. You felt it move under your hand. His calm breathing so close to your ear.
His hand moved down, moved over the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing, and the pressure made you gasp and push back a little more.
You let go off his hand, but grasped the sheets. You tried to calm your breathing, but you were panting as you felt his fingers move under your shirt, felt his warm touch on your burning skin.
You couldn't see anything but you pressed your eyes shut nonetheless as his fingers slipped into your panties. They touched your heat, touched your most sensitive parts.
You let out a small whimper and your back arched further.
You listened, but he was so calm, so still, as if he was still asleep, and only his fingers were moving. And they moved between your legs. His fingers gently parting your folds.
You pressed your mouth shut, but you were sure that embarrassingly whining sound could be heard in the darkness of the room.
His fingertip rubbed your pearl and your body reacted, tensing up as you felt this incredible hot need literally throbbing.
You felt his breath so close to your ear and it sent a different kind of shiver through your body.
One finger slipped inside you, and you clenched around it hard. But he pushed deeper and you gasped. And you didn't know how but you were so wet, it made it easy for him to add another finger, though you pressed your legs tightly together.
For a moment, his digits just remained there, inside you, not moving. So very still like the rest of his body.
Then you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass, the length between your cheeks. And as if following some instinct, you rocked your hips, rubbed against him, creating more friction, creating more heat that made you shiver.
His fingers started moving inside you, pushing deeper, curling, and finding a spot that made you outright moan, and unable to suppress that sound.
His thumb pressed hard on your pearl, teasing you and sending hot bolts of pure need through your body. And your body was on heat, there was no other way to describe it. Every cell of your body was aching for his touch now. And he touched you, so good, so intensely, so determined.
You were moaning and whimpering as his fingers opened you up, made you spread your legs, urging him to go deeper, pushing against his thrusts, and pressing against his hardness.
You felt your climax building up quickly as his fingers pushed harder, moved deeper and more ruthlessly inside you, taking you.
You felt his hot lips on your neck as you pushed your head back, your body convulsing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, but you weren't sure if you were trying to stop him – or if you even could.
His thumb rubbing your most sensitive pearl, making you clamp your walls around his fingers, you couldn't have stopped it, it was almost as if he was forcing that orgasm into you and you gave in, gave in willingly and with everything you had, everything you were, letting that wave of pure pleasure roll over you. Moaning shamelessly, your body trembling as his fingers fucked you through an overwhelming climax.
You lay there, panting, sweat covering your body, and you were still feeling dizzy from the aftermath of that amazing orgasm, when you felt a shiver of cold. He lifted the blanket off of you. And before you could ask why, you felt his hand on your thigh and he lifted up your leg. And before you could wonder what he was up to, you felt his fingers push your soaking wet panties to the side. And before you could really grasp what was going on, you felt his hard cock push inside you from behind.
You cried out as you were stretched by his thickness.
His hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries, as he pushed deeper, pushed his whole length into you. You felt like he was splitting you in two, he was so big, pushing so hard, but at the same time this was all you wanted, all your body was craving for.
Your body shook from his hard thrusts, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, making you feel his rapid heartbeat, making you feel him, so intensely, you forgot where you ended and where he began. You felt as if you were melting into him as he took you with long hard thrusts, took you as if you were only his.
And when you felt his hot cum spilling inside you, your body convulsed so hard around him, making him gasp into your ear and you came again, and he was fucking you through another high, this time not as fierce, but even more intense as you felt this connection with him, something you had never felt before.
You were still panting and your body was trembling as he rolled you around and took you in his arms. His lips kissing your face, tasting your sweat, tasting your tears.
“You're one of my sluts now.”
You froze as you heard his dark whisper.
“What?” You moved your head back to look at him though it was too dark to make out his features.
“I said, go back to sleep now,” he said, softly. And kissed your forehead, before cradling you in his strong arms. Your head resting against his shoulder, as he held you. Held you close.
a/n: Thank you for reading. This was probably much sweeter than what I usually write. I hope you enjoyed it. All feedback is very much appreciated.
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eyelessfaces · 1 year
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caregiver
miguel o'hara x reader
summary: when miguel sees how wrong your mission went, he only wishes for you to let him take care of you.
warnings: description of injuries, blood is mentioned once and there's not a lot of it
tags: gn!reader, slight angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, fucking oblivious idiots in love
word count: 1.8k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
I love him
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You pressed the button of the strap around your wrist with difficulty, opening a portal to the spider society. 
It took a good amount of your strength just to get back onto your feet after having collapsed into an empty alley after finally escaping the people chasing you, and you were thankful that your webs had helped you transport yourself earlier, because your legs couldn’t have done the job. 
It was the first time you had fled a scene without stopping the bad guys, but if you hadn’t fled it, they would have stopped you, and worse could have happened.
When you arrived at the spider society, almost everyone stopped in their task or conversation to stare at you, watching you limp through the crowd. A few of them gathered around you and offered you help, but you gave them a small smile and a lame excuse and that seemed to be enough for you to be able to move on. 
That was until Miguel turned his head at the hubbub you had caused and saw the state you were in.
He pushed every other spider person away, making his way to you hurriedly, his eyes gradually widening and lips parting in disbelief as he made his way to you.
"What on earth happened to you" he asked from a distance, his path now clear as everyone had made way for him to join you. 
He stood right in front of you, and though he couldn't see your face, he could imagine it through your mask, and he knew you wouldn’t tell him what happened. 
He looked at his side and realized everyone was staring. He sighed and turned so his back was turned to you, now facing the crowd that had circled the both of you. "Nothing to see here, we're fine, you can go back to your occupations" he ordered, and people awkwardly moved on from the situation, trying to act like nothing happened.
Miguel turned back to you once the movement had dissipated, and his face dropped in worry again. He had seen the way you were limping, and he was now seeing how you were holding onto your left shoulder, thoroughly trying to cover it with your hand. And hell, you hadn't even dropped your mask, but from the cut in it on your forehead, it was already bad enough.
"What happened" he asked again, more calmly and composedly this time.
"It's okay, I'm fine" you discarded the question, starting to walk until he put a hand over your other shoulder to stop you.
"If you don't wanna tell me what happened, let me at least help you now" he almost whispered, his gaze falling to meet your eyes to let you know that he was serious about this.
"No."
With that you left him behind and continued walking, difficultly, and Miguel sighed one last time.
A startled yelp left you when he shot a web at you and pulled you to him, making you land over his shoulder. It was so easy for him, his superstrength allowing him to handle you like you were just a rag doll to him.
You hit his muscled back with the bit of strength left in you, your desperate ministrations barely affecting him. "Let go of m–"
"Look at the things I have to do for you to let me take care of you" he cut you off in a monotone and low voice, trying to ignore all the pairs of eyes glued to the both of you again as he carried you over his shoulder. 
You gave up on trying to fight him, you knew you couldn't even if you really wanted to, you didn't have enough energy and he wouldn't want to let go of you anyway.
He brought you to a secluded quarter with medical supplies, and you were finally alone and not putting on a show anymore. He pulled a chair thanks to a web, and made you sit down on it before getting another chair in front of you and gathering the stuff he would need to clean up your wounds.
"Sorry if I hurt you when I shot the web and pulled you to me, but if you weren't so stubborn–"
"That's okay, I appreciate your concern" you cut him off huffing a laugh until another jolt of pain from your shoulder coursed through your body, making you suck in air through your teeth.
He looked over at you and hurried to get everything ready to take care of your wounds, putting the stuff on the table next to the chairs once ready.
"Let me see your shoulder" he asked throwing his chin at it, noticing that your hand hadn't left the spot since you came back to the spider society.
You released your tight grip from the wound slowly and carefully, your covered hand stained with a bit of blood. The wound wasn't so bad, it wasn't too deep, but it was long scratches that hurt every time you moved your arm even just a bit.
The worst part of it for you was that you were going to have to change your suit now that it was ripped to shreds in that area.
"Okay" Miguel muttered, inspecting the injury. "I think you're gonna heal pretty fast, but the first days are gonna be tough. The placement isn't the easiest to live with" he said while sitting down in front of you.
"You wanna talk about good placement? I probably have a cut right over my face" you declared, sliding your fingers under the hem of your mask. "I haven't seen it yet but I felt it for sure." you grunted, taking the piece off with a sigh of relief, happy to finally feel some fresh air.
He stared at the slash going from the side of your eyebrow to your forehead, his gaze quickly diverting to his lap where he was getting his stuff ready when your eyes met.
"There's no good spot to get hurt. I just meant that there are spots where it won't disturb you while it's healing" he declared as he prepared the gauze pad and soaked it with disinfectant. "Your forehead, it won't get in your way. It's inconvenient because it's visible and in the middle of your face but it won't disturb you. Your shoulder, it gets annoying when you shower, when you sleep, when you want to reach and grab something"
"Right"
He pinched his lips in a skeptic smile. "You ready? It's gonna sting a bit" he declared looking at you seriously, and you responded with a small nod.
He took care of your shoulder first, helping you rip off your suit a bit more so he could have full access to the wound. Your heart ached at the sight of your beloved suit getting torn apart, but Miguel telling you that he would get you a new one, even better than this one, made you feel a bit better.
If you thought your shoulder was hurting before, it was nothing compared to that feeling when the disinfectant met your flesh. The sudden burning feeling made you let out a scream of pain, accompanied by a few swear words including a 'motherfucker' you hoped Miguel wouldn't take personally. 
He was trying to be gentle, he really was, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you, but no matter how soft he could be you both knew it would hurt anyways. You appreciated the way he tried to soothe you with kind words, telling you how good you were doing, telling you he was almost done cleaning it up and it was almost over.
You hoped he didn’t mind the way your nails were digging onto his bicep as you hissed in pain, and you knew he didn’t when his kind eyes met yours once he was done.
"Let me bandage you then it's over, okay?" he softly asked before shooting you a small smile. "It won't be as painful for your forehead."
You took the time to drink some well deserved and needed water before Miguel took care of your forehead. 
The proximity was another new feeling from this whole experience, and it almost made you forget about the slight pain located at the side of your face.
Miguel had your chin trapped between his thumb and forefinger to hold your face, causing your lips to slightly part. It was endearing to see him being so focused on trying not to hurt you, being so careful for each of his even smallest movements.
You hadn't even noticed he was done until he waved a hand in front of your face, making you apologize for being so disconnected from reality. You wished that moment could have lasted longer.
"Thank you" you absent-mindedly mumbled. "Sorry I was being a pain in the ass, I'm actually thankful you could take care of me" you softly smiled, and he mirrored your action.
"See, you should listen to me more often" he replied smugly, his soft smile changing to a toothy grin exposing his sharp fangs.
You huffed out a laugh and playfully hit his arm before shaking your head and standing up with a grunt.
"Hey" he called, a serious tone in his voice as he stood up in front of you. "I know you don't wanna tell me what happened but just know that I'll have Lyla get your previous location, I'll track them from here and I'll take care of them"
You paused for a second.
"You don't have to do this for me"
"I know" he declared, pinching his lips. "I want to."
"I'd need to properly thank you for that." you declared, raising your eyebrows until a sting reminded you of your cut there.
"You don't have to do that"
"I want to." you repeated his previous words with a smirk. You paused, then an idea came to your mind. "What about… What about you go to another universe with me so we can grab dinner?" you proposed, walking around your chair – still slightly limping – so you could slide it back under the table.
"So, a date"
"N– Yes." you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked back at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head at that moment and studying his face, trying to guess if he would accept your offer. "If you want it to be"
"I think I'm fine with that." he smiled, crossing his arms.
"Good" you smiled back at him, your heart ready to burst out of your ribcage at any moment. "Shall we?" you asked, pressing the button to open a portal where the door of the room originally was.
"After you" he offered with a teasing smile, waving his hand at the halo. You grinned and started walking, until Miguel huffed out a laugh behind you. 
"God you need to do something about that limping. I guess I'll just have to keep carrying you around"
feedback is always extremely appreciated plsplspls!!
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spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove
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lure-of-writing · 2 months
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Little Sister; Just Peachy
Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy
Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!
(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)
Word count: 2.9k
Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child
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Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting. 
The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass.  Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.”  scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises. 
The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed. 
Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring. 
Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate. 
Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before  the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n” 
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Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting. 
Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?”  Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face. 
Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin. 
After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation. 
As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet. 
“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance. 
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When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it. 
Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.”  gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered. 
You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you. 
You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot. 
Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter.  “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh. 
 A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep. 
Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down. 
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It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up. 
When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.” 
The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”
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detachedminxsfics · 7 months
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Caught In The Act
Masterlist
Characters: Max x F!Reader
Summary: When your landlord Max offers to do you a favour you come home to a pleasant surprise when you get off work early
Word count: 3.3K
Warnings: NSFW - Voyeurism, brief handjob, oral (m recieving), vaginal sex, creampie, riding, praise, dirty talk, soft dom/switch max bc he's a cutie
A/N: This is just what we all wanted to do during the bathtub scene. Enjoy :)
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The alarm on your bedside table blared restlessly as you attempted to pry your eyes open, rolling over to stretch your arm and aimlessly fumble for it until you felt it beneath your palm and slammed your hand down on top, silencing it. With a huff you managed to haul yourself out of bed to get ready for work, making sure you had everything you needed in your bag and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock at the door, which you hurried to open when you got your other shoe on. It was your landlord and next-door neighbour Max whom you'd grown rather close with over the past few months of living in the building. He'd been a good friend to you when you needed him most and you'd spent plenty of nights since you moved in getting takeout and watching movies together or even him cooking for you, which he often insisted on doing when you'd had a particularly stressful work week. His eyes lit up a little when the door opened to reveal you, a small smile on his lips before he started to speak.
"Hey, I know it's early but I was thinking about that leak in the kitchen you told me about and was wondering if I can take a look at it for you, and fix it up if I can?"
Max was wearing a navy blue t-shirt with some slightly baggy charcoal grey work jeans, which you could tell from the way they were splattered with various shades of paint. He'd been wearing them when you first came to view the apartment, the moment when the man practically changed your life by offering you the place.
"Sure, but I've gotta go to work. Last minute shift change." You sighed as you stepped away from the door to grab your bag from the small glass table in your hallway, which prompted Max to enter the apartment.
"Well I can fix it up while you're at work and lock up when I'm done, I've got a key." He suggested, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he watched you make a last minute check of the items in your bag.
"Really? That would be great, thank you."
As you made way for the door you stopped to lean in and plant a quick peck on Max's cheek, the stubble of his salt and pepper beard slightly scratching against your lips when you did. His eyes were closed when you pulled back until they fluttered open to look back into yours, a smile creeping onto his lips again as you continued towards the door.
"I'll see you later, Max." You said as you grasped the door handle.
"Have a good day at work." He simply replied with a polite nod of his head, watching as you closed the door and listening to your footsteps get further and further down the hall.
He was just thankful that the way his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans concealed the way they started to shake when he felt your lips against his skin.
Since you came in last minute on what was technically supposed to be your day off you managed to convince your boss to let you leave early when things got quiet, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you rode the elevator up to the floor of your apartment and headed down the hall once the doors opened. You tested the handle of your door to see whether it was locked only to find that it wasn't, the door swaying open meaning Max must have not locked up since he hadn't finished up in the kitchen yet, not that it bothered you that he was still inside. You stepped in and quietly closed the door, kicking your shoes off and starting to make your way to the kitchen when you heard it, stopping in your tracks the moment the sound reached your ears. Groaning. You followed the sound down the hall and into your bedroom, but when you peered into your bedroom there was nothing there until you turned and stole a glance through the doorway of your en suite bathroom and finally identified the source of the sound. Max was lying down in the bathtub, his head resting back on the porcelain rim and his hand buried beneath his jeans. Low, raspy groans fell from his throat whilst his hips bucked up slightly with every stroke of his hand, his chest rising and falling as his breaths started to get heavier and faster. It was hard to believe what you were seeing, but you couldn't possibly bring yourself to look away. The way his eyes were screwed shut and a stray strand of hair curled against his forehead, the way his lips parted to let out the soft grunts that were progressively turning into more desperate, drawn-out pleas, the way the veins decorating his hands bulged as he shamelessly tried to bring himself to his release in your bathtub. You couldn't get enough of it. Sure you had treated one another as friends these past few months, but you could never shake the suspicion that Max harboured feelings towards you that made him wish you were a little more than just friends. You'd held off on the idea of developing feelings for him in the worry that if things didn't work out between you two you'd be stuck living in the same building and having an ex as your landlord. It wasn't practical, but with the way the man was touching himself before your very eyes you weren't sure you could keep up with doing the right thing, the smart thing.
"Max?"
Your voice made his eyes shoot open before he sat up, cursing under his breath and awkwardly trying to tuck himself back into his pants, his eyes darting between you and his hands fumbling with the open fly of his jeans.
"Hey you're, you're back earlier than I thought you'd be." He stated breathlessly with a nervous smile, but there was no way for him to cover up what he was doing.
"Clearly." You teased as you started towards the tub causing him to glance up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and surprise.
Wordlessly you leaned down and started to palm the clothed bulge straining against his jeans, his hips jolting up at the contact and his hand gently closing around the wrist of the hand you were using to touch him.
"What are you doing?" He asked, seemingly more taken aback by how forward you were being rather than opposed to the idea.
You only hushed him and slid your hand over his groin until you reached the fly of his jeans, carefully undoing the sloppily half-up zipper and delving your fingers beneath the denim and the waistband of his boxers until you felt your fingertips graze over his shaft. His skin was hot to the touch and he hissed through his teeth as you gave it a small squeeze, the reaction making you bite your lip at how sensitive he seemed to be. Wanting more of him you started to tug down his jeans and boxers prompting Max to lift his hips to help you slide it down easier, his cock springing free once he did, and what a treat that was. Max was big with just the right amount of thickness, his tip swollen and glistening with pre-cum practically aching to be touched aside from his already desperate, strained anticipatory breaths. You lightly ran your thumb over the tip to gather the stickiness, a contented moan escaping his lips as you circled it before lifting your thumb to your mouth and sucking it clean with a pleased hum. Then you leaned back over the tub once again, bracing your hand on the edge of the bath whilst you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock and started to stroke, his mouth falling open at the sensation as a bunch of throaty moans followed. Still working him with your hand you turned your head to the side to press your lips against his, his lips moving back against yours instantly and his tongue lightly sweeping over yours. After a moment you broke the fervent kiss, parting your lips just enough that they were still barely grazing against his.
"You're so noisy." You playfully remarked with a small giggle, your comment making his brows bounce up.
"Do you want me to be quieter? I can be quieter." He pleaded against your lips clearly flustered, which only made you shake your head and smile.
"I never said it was a bad thing. Besides, what's the worst that could happen, someone puts in a noise complaint?" You whispered against his lips, brushing your lips over his teasingly.
You brought your mouth against his again, his hand reaching up to comb his fingers through your hair and deepen the kiss. You continued to enjoy his mouth some more, even pulling back slightly to lightly nip at his bottom lip before kissing over it and then leaning back up again, unwrapping your hand from his shaft.
"Sit up." You ordered, to which he complied and leaned up until he was sitting in the bath.
You swung your leg over and climbed in, lowering down into the space at the bottom of the tub and laying down on your stomach, your head hovering over his lap.
"I wanna taste you."
You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and swept your tongue over his swollen tip, the warm wetness of your tongue making his hips bounce up at the feeling and a grunt rumble from his throat. Then you licked a stripe from the base to the tip, your tongue running over the vein bulging in his shaft and swirling over the head once you reached it again, the salty taste of pre cum coating your tongue.
"Please." Max begged as you ran your tongue over him, his hands trembling at his sides as it took everything in him not to coax it past your lips, and he practically looked like he was about to explode any minute.
Removing your hand you kept your eyes on his, slowly sliding him past your lips and into your mouth, taking his cock as far down as your throat would allow.
"Shit. Oh, baby." He moaned out, slipping his fingers into your hair and caressing the strands as you bobbed your head.
You loved how vocal he was, the way he threw his head back when you enthusiastically moaned around him, and how responsive he was from even the smallest of touches.
"Your throat feels even better than I imagined." He rasped, the flattery making you drag your lips up his cock sucking a bit harder as you did, before sliding your mouth all the way back down on him.
You didn't mind that Max had imagined this before. Truthfully, you'd indulged in a fantasy or two involving him once or twice when you first moved in, you'd just never entertained the idea of it after that. Oh, how wrong you were. He started to grow restless, the hand stroking your hair stopping to gather some in his hand as he started lifting his hips in time with your mouth, chasing his release with his heavy lidded chocolate brown eyes fixed on yours.
"Sweetheart, I-I'm gonna-" He drawled, cut off by the way his orgasm seemed to hit him and his cock twitched in your mouth, his hips stuttering as his whole body shuddered.
You moved your mouth off of him just enough to be able to swallow, warm ropes of his release filling your mouth and coating your tongue, lightly sucking him through it and milking his cock until he seemed to be empty and softened a bit in your mouth. Carefully you slipped him from your mouth and swallowed it down, some beads of cum still having escaped from your lips trailing down his cock which you leaned down to lick off.
"You are perfect." Max added breathlessly while reaching out to caress the side of your face, his thumb tenderly stroking over your cheek.
You leaned into the touch with a smile, his hand still on your face as you crawled over him until you were hovering over his lap and then sat down, his semi-hard erection resting against your clothed crotch. His free hand reached up to start stroking over your thigh, caressing it as he went and then moving to take hold of your hip. He used the hold on your face to crash his lips against yours, the grip he had on your hip growing firmer as you moved your lips against his, and his hips subconsciously rocked beneath you in search of friction.
"You wanna fuck me?" You whispered in between kisses, to which he pulled back just enough to breathe his sentiment into your mouth.
"More than anything." Max murmured eagerly, and you smiled against his lips before leaning back to take hold of the hem of your top, crossing your arms and lifting it over your head.
He did the same, throwing his navy blue tee over his head and tossing it onto the floor beside your tub, a pile of clothes starting to form as you reached down to get your pants off, sitting up enough that you could push them past your thighs and roll them down to your ankles. You kicked them off once you got them down your legs then turned and reached behind you to help Max get his boxers and pants off from where they had gathered at his calves, throwing them to join the heap of clothes now on the floor. He took hold of your hips again, and you hovered over him just enough to feel the way he was hard and ready against your inner thigh. You reached down to guide him to your entrance and then began slowly lowering yourself down onto him, the stretch around him making a pained moan fall from your mouth.
"Mm, Max." His name rolled off your tongue so wantonly, every inch of him gradually filling you.
He pressed his lips against yours to muffle your cries, one of his hands coming up to cup one side of your face again, his other still resting over your hip.
"It's okay, it's okay." He cooed between kisses as you tried to adjust to the feel of him, and soon your ass was pressed against his thighs as you took him to the hilt.
Letting go of your face he took hold of your other hip and moved slightly, the first lift of his hips enough to make his mouth fall open and a husky groan follow suit, mirroring him as a needy whine spills from yours. Bracing your hands on his shoulders you started to roll your hips, creating a slow, rhythmic bounce that Max aided with his grip on you. You moved your hand to his chest, caressing your way up to his shoulders and then to the nape of his neck, slipping your fingers into his thick brown locks as you leaned forward and started pressing kisses on his neck, languidly working your way down to his collarbone and the generous curls of hair sparsely adorning his chest. Your other hand smoothed over the top of his arm, running your fingers over one of the many tattoos his body was littered with and lightly squeezing his bicep which made him hum appreciatively. With time you began picking up the pace, sliding all the way up and then coming down on him hard, the wet slapping sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bathroom as your ass smacked against his thighs. His hands moved to your ass cupping it firmly as you bounced on him, caressing it as he rocked his hips in time with your movements.
"Good girl, god you're so tight." He praised, moaning out as your walls massaged his cock.
Your knees started to ache, feeling bruised from the way you'd been kneeling on the small space of porcelain on either side of him. You slowed your movements to mumble through your strained breaths.
"My legs are gonna give out." You whispered with a giggle.
Max seemed to get the idea, repeatedly pressing his lips against yours as he gripped your thighs and leaned forward, gently laying you down on your back and hovering over you, your legs draped over his hips. He didn't waste any time in moving again, thrusting his hips as he fucked into you deeply and his mouth found its way to your jaw, kissing along it and allowing his beard scruff to scratch against your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands resting on the nape of his neck and playing with the curls of hair above it. His lips trailed kisses along the side of your neck, then over your throat and down to your collarbone, affectionately marking you in whatever way he could. Eventually, the pressure in your abdomen started to build and you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your legs at all the right times to try and spur him to go deeper. He listened to your wordless request, burying his cock into you and pumping into you with hard, bottomless thrusts.
"Max, Max I-" His name tumbles from your mouth in the form of a plea, repeating his name over and over again amidst a string of curses.
"I've got you, it's okay baby." He hushes you, coaxing you to your orgasm with soft reassurances and it's more than enough to tip you over the edge.
You cling to him as you let out an unrestrained, sweet cry, your whole body trembling beneath him as he holds you and fucks you through it. With his eyes fixed on you and wholly focused on your expression he succumbs to his release too, his hips stuttering and guttural groans spewing from his throat. He spills into you, filling you with his warm release and then lightly collapsing on top of you, careful not to put too much weight on you. He collects himself for a moment before propping himself up on his elbows and reaching up to stroke your cheek.
"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right? I wasn't too rough?"
Before the endless list of paranoid possibilities he was babbling continued you silenced him with your lips, pressing them against his and kissing him softly. After a moment of just basking in the feel of him you broke the kiss, cupping his face and resting your forehead against his.
"I love you, Max. I should've said this sooner, but I love you."
His eyes widened a little, a smile of genuine, unbridled happiness playing on his lips. He couldn't believe you had finally said those three little words that he'd only ever dreamed about hearing.
"I love you too, so much."
Your lips met again, your arms wrapping around his waist as you embraced him. You stayed like that for a little while, the once cold porcelain beneath your back now warm from your skin, and Max's hands were all over you like he wasn't sure he'd ever let you go. Eventually, he broke the kiss, his nose still brushing against yours as he spoke.
"Why don't I draw you a bath, make us some dinner and then we can watch a movie, hm?"
He suggested, nuzzling his nose against yours and making you laugh.
"Okay okay, but only if you'll get in the bath with me, and one with actual water this time."
Max snorted his laughter and swept a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Deal."
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lil13 · 1 year
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REHEARSAL - j. champion
You're an actress on Scream VI and your scene partner is frequently Jack Champion. The two of you soon have to film a scene where your characters give into their tension and confess their feelings for the first time, ending in a kiss — and the directors want you to rehearse outside of set. You knew you'd have to kiss Jack eventually, but the thought of rehearsing the scene alone with him made you nervous.
It's nothing, right?
You had simply just invited your castmate over to your apartment to rehearse a scene that the directors asked you to rehearse. No big deal.
Jack Champion was one of your castmates and happened to be playing the best friend of your character. Except, both characters had secretly fallen for each other and confess their feelings, ending in a steamy kiss. Apparently, when you'd gone to film the scene the day before, the directors weren't convinced with your performance — they'd even called cut before you got to the kiss.
You had hyped yourself up all day for nothing.
A couple weeks ago you'd confided in Devyn, one of your other castmates — she played a character named Anika. You told the girl that you were pretty sure you'd fallen for your castmate and were freaked out about it. Devyn assured you that this feeling was okay, and if you had fallen for Jack, it wasn't the end of the world.
So, when you'd gotten nervous about your kiss scene, you confided in Devyn then again too. She assured you once again, that you'd be okay.
When you heard a knock on the wood of your apartment door, all air left your lungs.
You wiped the sweat on your palms off on your sweatpants before walking — nervously — over to the door. You'd tried on approximately 5 different outfits before settling on sweatpants and a tank top, even told Jack to dress down as well.
"Hi." Jack smiled once you opened the door.
Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately knew that running this scene would be difficult tonight. But alas, you pushed through.
"Hi." you echoed, stepping aside so Jack could step into the apartment.
Closing the door behind him, you told Jack where he could drop his things. When you saw him looking around, you remembered he'd only been here with the group, so he hadn't really had the chance to look around. You couldn't help yourself but walk right up next to him, nudging his body with your own. It was like you were drawn to him. 
"Like it?" you questioned.
He nodded quickly, glancing down at you. "It's cute."
After a couple minutes of small talk, you agreed to get started. Your characters were standing during the scene, so you and Jack stood in the free floor space between the couch and the small kitchen table you had.
You flipped a switch inside of yourself and began to act as Piper, your character in the movie.
"Um, hello? Are you forgetting something?" This scene was supposed to take place right after a frat party.
You'd gone with Ethan and the group to this party. Whilst there, you and Ethan had flirted some, like the two of you had been doing for the past few months. Long story short, Piper and Ethan had been friends since high school, both moving to New York for college. Piper had always felt something toward Ethan, but being with him at college and seeing how girls looked at him really solidified her feelings.
Jack furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"
"For fucks sake! When you went to find Tara with Chad I went to get another drink and when I came back all 6 of you were gone. You left me at the party." Your character was supposed to be out done with his. "What happened to never leaving friends alone at parties? I could be upstairs fucking a rando right now for all you care."
His face contorted as he stepped closer. "Piper, i'm sorry! Chad just grabbed me and we left... I forgot."
"Wow."
You were supposed to be mad, but also hurt.
"Piper..."
You shook your head, "No, no, no. Don't Piper me. Ever since we became friends with those people you've put me on the back burner! Do you know how much that hurts?"
Jack reached out to put a hand on your arm, but you jerked back. His facial expression fell.
Even though you knew it was acting, it still made your heart hurt.
"I'm really sorry, I just. Things have changed since we moved here."
You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "Like what?"
"Us." his voice was quiet.
Piper was supposed to stay quiet at this point, taking a step or two backwards. This was Ethan's turn to speak.
"Piper, we've known each other since freshman year and I just... the way I, see you now. It's different."
The kiss was coming up soon and your heart was going crazy. But what you didn't know, was so was Jack's.
"Different, huh?"
Jack's eyes went wide, mimicking Ethan's panic. "Good different! Piper, these past couple of months i've seen you differently than before and it scares the shit out of me. It's like every part of me is itching to be around you 24/7, and when you're finally close it feels like nothing bad will ever happen to me."
You cracked a smile, this was when Piper was supposed to realize that Ethan felt the same. Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about how amazing it would be if Jack felt the same way as you. But that would never happen in a million years.
"You like me." Jack swallowed harshly, Ethan now realized that was Piper was saying was right. He 'liked' his best friend. "You like me!" The second time was Piper convincing herself.
Jack nervously scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, I guess I do."
This was when you kissed.
Piper was meant to initiate it. So, you took a deep breath and followed through. If you were meant to rehearse a scene, why not rehearse all of it?
You closed the space between you by walking those few steps, your hand grabbing the back of Jack's neck and pulling his face to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed right as your lips met in the middle.
Butterflies. Fireworks. All of the above.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Jack pulled away, a smirk on his lips. That's when the scene was supposed to end.
You wiped your mouth off with the back of your hand, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I think we did a pretty good job, think the directors will be satisfied." You were nodding as you stepped back some, creating space between you.
Jack stepped forward, "I, uh... I think we should practice again."
He did? But you'd done so well. "Which part?" You were genuinely curious.
The boy was quiet now. Something that was rare.
"J?" you called him by the nickname you'd bestowed upon him. Unoriginal, but you liked it.
His eyes wouldn't meet yours. "The kiss?"
He'd been so quiet you almost missed it. But you hadn't. He had asked to rehearse the kiss.
Suddenly bold, you decided to play dumb. "The kiss? I thought we did fine, why should we practice? We can if you want to, though."
Jack saw right through your ploy.
You mentally cursed yourself. But the blush on his cheeks clued you into the fact that maybe you weren't the only one with feelings at the moment.
With your boldness still out to play, you continued. "Or, you could just kiss me as Jack and not Ethan?" This made Jack's eyes go dark.
A smirk twitched on his lips as he crossed the floor, ducking down to crash his lips into yours. He immediately picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he held you as close as possible.
You couldn’t really believe this was happening. Jack was actually kissing you. Devyn was gonna freak out.
Your fingers went into his hair, playing with and tugging on his curls. You’d dreamed about the day you’d get to play with his hair and that day was finally here.
Jack walked over to the couch, his lips never leaving yours, and sat down with you now in his lap. His kiss was rough and passionate, but everything else was so gentle. The way his hands ran of your body? It felt magical, but he was so careful, almost as if he didn’t want to do something wrong.
After a couple minutes, you pulled away. A frown flashed on Jack’s lips and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands held his cheeks while his rested on your hips, his thumbs caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up.
“Did I ever tell you that I think you’re really cute?” you laughed.
Jack blushed, for the second time that night, and dropped his head against your chest to hide it. You laughed even harder picking his face up so he’d have to look you in the eye again.
He tried to fight against you, but you won. “And when you blush it’s even cuter.” This time you kissed him.
When you pulled away, his face followed yours, almost as if he wasn’t ready for the kiss to be over.
“In all honesty, i’m pretty sure that scene went badly yesterday because I was nervous.” he chuckled, lifting a hand from your hip to tuck a strand of fallen hair behind your ear. “And until you said I could kiss you as Jack I still was nervous. I like you so much, Y/N.”
“Would you say you’re itching to be around me 24/7 and when i’m around it feels like nothing bad will happen?”
Jack’s jaw dropped and he playfully squeezed your hips, “Are you quoting my character to me?”
“I might be.” You said with a smirk.
A squeal came from your lips when Jack pushed you down onto the couch beside him, his hands attacking your sides as he tickled you. Laughter poured from both of your mouths. All you wanted was to kiss him again, his brown eyes looked like coming home. He made you feel like nothing bad would ever happen.
Eventually, you managed to control the situation and pull Jack’s face down to yours. Your lips connected in a way that it felt like they were always meant to. This was something you could definitely get used to.
“Oh my god, what did I walk into?”
You and Jack both made noises of surprise, the boy falling down onto you, his head tucking in your neck. Your hands held his head, keeping his face out of sight of your guest.
“Devyn, hey.” you casually greeted the girl, “I forgot I gave you a key.”
Jack pinched your waist at your confession. You pulled his hair in retaliation.
The girl laughed, “I came over to get my phone charger I left here last night, didn’t think i’d walk in to you hooking up. I know you’re freaking out though.”
“We’re not—”
“Bye!” She grabbed the cord and walked back out the door.
You were embarrassed, taking your hands away from Jack’s head and covering your face with them. Your face was burning in embarrassment.
Jack propped himself up, looking down at you, “Freaking out, huh?”
“Ok, I might’ve ranted to Devyn about how much I liked you. Shut up.”
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espercognitive · 3 months
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She was a Seamstress, He was an actor.
Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader Pt1
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This is my first fic on here! I've been like hiding in the shadows but i have to force myself to write! so I'm just experimenting with fic writing. This is probably gonna be a series about theater! your character is theater technician so all the cool behind the scenes stuff is there. You work in costume and you are assigned to Timothée's character! The reader is fem presenting and has female pronouns! I'm going to include gender neutral readers in the future!(also should I put Timothee or Timothée?)
TW: Swearing, Mild mention nudity, Some sexual tension.
Word count: 1.18k
Show season had finally begun for your theater. After training in high school, you got picked to be a seamstress for a well known theater in New York. Your work was paying off and you could finally see your work being used to its full potential. Going from small local high school productions, you had now gotten the opportunity to work with real actors and actresses. People who you were going to help bring a character to life. Especially for the show 'Anything Goes'
But what you hadn't expected was being assigned to Timothée Chalamet.
Unfortunately, you knew who he was. He had been an actor when you were in high school, but even with the familiarity, you still couldn't help but be a bit frustrated. This wasn't the first time you had to work with him, it'd actually be the second time. The first time made you swear you'd never work with him again. Sophomore year had been going smoothly, that was until your theater department had decided to do Sweet Charity. After working with him that show, hearing the name Oscar Lindquist made you shudder. He had been a senior, and he had been popular in the theater department since his freshman year. You were excited to dress a popular actor, but it was the complete opposite of what you had imagined. Instead of a wonderful maybe even flirtatious encounter
Until you got the character assignments, and you see his name right next to yours.
'Oh fuck' you thought to yourself. You sighed as you walked into the costume shop. You had hope that he had grown out of his annoying behavior, but when he walked in to get measurements done, you figured that probably wasn't the case. He strutted into the costume shop, dopey smile on his face, and that same white boy swag he had in his senior year. You felt sophomore you cringe as he walked over to you.
"Y/N right?" he questioned.
"Yes." you mumbled.
You picked up the measuring tape and started to take his measurements. Typically this wouldn't be such a big deal, that was until you had to measure his waist and crotch area. Now back in high school, this wasn't such a big deal. They had the male costumers take those measurements for the actors and female costumers for the actresses. But this wasn't high school anymore, and you had a big girl job, in which you were responsible for getting this right. You crouched down, face to dick, trying to distract yourself from how close the two of you were when you heard him say,
"Do I know you from somewhere? I normally can recognize a cute face wherever I go, but i can't put a name on you."
"Yea we actually went to the same high school together."
"Really? Were you a seamstress then, or did you start now?"
You sighed and answered almost finished with the rest of his measurements.
"Uh yea I was. I was your costumer when we did Sweet Charity."
He jumped messing up your placement as you tried again.
"Hey can you not move so muc-" He cut you off before you could finish your request.
"OH! I remember you! You were that shy little sophomore. I remember how you never yelled no matter how many times I fucked up my costume" He smiled to himself as he finished bringing up that frustrating memory.
"Yea. I probably should've. Ok Stop moving I'm almost done."
"Ok Ok. Seems like you've gotten more a fire to you at least" He mumbled that last part, a little afraid to say it out loud. You gave him a look.
"Ok I finished. I'm gonna pull some stuff and then tomorrow I'll have you come and try some stuff on." You walked off refusing to look at him in the eyes, grabbing your paper with the measurements.
"Yea ok. Thats cool. See you tomorrow Y/N"
You figured this was going to be an interesting show. Only 2 more months till the show opened.
The next day
You had spent all day yesterday pulling close that would fit him. It was weird doing the same thing again. You thought about how frustrated you were in your sophomore year. But maybe he could be different. You would be lying if the crush you had on him still lingered around. Maybe you could get close this time the way you had wanted to in high school.
Nope. Don't start those thoughts. He's your coworker. Nothing more.
You laid out the pants and clothes you needed him to try. Of course as the character Billy, you'd need every one of his outfits to be different and unique. But you'd have to make a sailor costume from scratch. Which meant for the next few weeks, there'd be many fittings. But you just needed to focus on what you had right now, which was being delayed as Timothée was late.
After distracting and helping some other seamstresses, the man or the hour finally decided to make his appearance.
"Hey Y/N. Woah whats up with the face?" He questioned.
"Well your an hour late. I have to go in like an hour for a doctors appointment so we have to make this fast."
"Oh sorry. Well uh I got you a drink. You used to drink apple juice all the time during Sweet Charity so I figured you'd want this."
You look up into his eyes, he seemed genuine. You smiled as you took the bottle.
"Thank you Timothée. If you bring me an apple juice every time you're late, I'll make sure no one finds out." You smiled at him.
"Really? Thats a deal then."
"Ok. Its time to try on all of these outfits I have laid out. If they don't fit, don't worry about it. I can fix some of the sizes on the pants too."
"Ok, but small problem. Theres a lot of people in the dressing rooms, I don't know if we'll have room to do this."
"Oh fuck. Hmm. Crap I have to get this done."
"I can try and find somethin-" You cut him off with an idea.
"Actually, theres a couch room upstairs in the theater. It's pretty empty normally so you should have enough room to change in there." You smiled as you felt satisfied with that idea, until he said,
"Oh a couch room? You want to watch me undress in the couch room? You're definitely not that shy little sophomore anymore apple."
"Apple? Also thats not what I meant! I do not want to be apart of the reason the couches cannot be looked at under a black light."
He giggled as he grabbed the clothes.
"Yea apple. Like apple juice. I don't know, just thought I'd be cute for you."
you laughed as you responded "and I'm not the shy one anymore."
The two of you made it up the stairs and got into the couch room to just try on clothes. Definitely just try on clothes. Nothing else was going to happen...
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imagines--galore · 4 months
Note
Hey, hope you're well! I was hoping you could write a Will Tuner × fem!reader fic? Maybe where Will is overprotective over the reader?
Thanks!
Summary: Hitting a pirate over the head to make him drop Will turned into an all out brawl. But then again those were the norm in taverns frequented by pirates. Will, however, only saw them as an event where you could get hurt in a hundred different ways. Pairing: Will Turner x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A little fight scene but nothing too graphic. A/N: I don't know. There is just something about tavern fights that get me laughing. I mean you just turn to the first person you see and throw a punch. Even though you've never even seen them before. Like wth?! Also I TOTALLY used this gif because.........well..... :3
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You were downing only your second drink when you felt someone sidle up to you. Glancing at the pirate who was smiling at you in a way that had you curling your lip in disgust, you turned your attention back to your drink. Or rather your lack thereof.
"Another one for the lady!" The pirate called out in a gruff voice. You rolled your eyes. "No need. I'm done." Dropping a few coins on the counter you moved to jump down from your seat, only to have your elbow rather roughly grabbed by the pirate.
"Awww, whats the rush love? Its not polite to leave when a gentleman offers a drink." The drink had indeed arrived, but you were too busy holding back your laughter to notice. "A gentleman? Really? The only title befitting you is that of a pig." With a harsh yank that would surely leave a bruise, you freed your arm from his grip and stepped back still glaring at him.
Sensing that perhaps he was not in control of the situation, the other pirate rose to his feet, scowling down at you. He was impressively tall, you would give him that, but there was no way you were backing off. Never show weakness to another pirate, especially if they were men.
You were so busy glaring daggers at the pig that you didn't notice when your companion arrived.
"Is there a problem here?"
At the sound of his voice, your eyes shifted to the man standing just behind the filthy pig. Will stood looking between the two of you in what you could only describe as a quizzical way. It looked so adorably out of place in the seedy tavern that the corner of your mouth lifted in a shadow of a smile. The pirate seemed to get even more annoyed at the sight of Will. Barely giving the much shorter man a glance he simply growled.
"Get lost boy. This is between me and the harlot."
You saw red, and you were sure Will did as well. Given that his arm snapped out to grab the man by the shoulder to make him turn around and face him. "She happens to be my fiancee." He declared in a voice so firm and strong that for a second even you believed him. Your surprise must've shown on your face because he glanced at you and with that single look you understood what he meant.
'Play along.'
You rolled your eyes, though not wanting to hear him berate you later simply decided to go along with it. "What he said." You commented in such a flippant and uncaring manner that had Will glaring at you. The pirate, not wanting to wait any longer, turned his attention to Will, seeing him as the bigger target.
Which did make you angry since you were supposed to be protecting Will and not the other way around.
"Well I bet she would prefer to have a man take her rather then a boy." The pirate chuckled, reached out to push Will's hand from his shoulder, almost as if he were flicking at a fly.
Well that would surely be a stroke to his ego, you mused to yourself. And you were right. Will looked ready to tear off the pirate's head, and given how peace loving he was, you were impressed at how he was facing the much larger pirate.
If you hadn't made a promise to not bed the one man who could be the key to saving all of piratekind, you would surely have pulled Will into a dark corner by now.
Shaking your head to get rid of the daydream that was about to take form, you turned your attention back to Will. "And I bet she would prefer to be in the company of someone other then a filthy ape such as yourself." You made a face at his insult. He really needed to work on those.
But then maybe it wasn't so bad. It did seem to work because the pirate didn't take kindly to being compared to a monkey because he suddenly had Will by the throat. He wasn't squeezing hard, but you knew it was only a matter of time.
Panic shot through your body, propelling you to jump on top of the tavern and pick up the tankard of mead the pirate had ordered for you. With a swing you brought it down on top of his head.
And while the hit was hard enough for him to drop Will and clutch his head, it was also hard enough to bounce off his thick skull and go flying into the air where it hit another pirate. Quickly jumping down from the counter, you crouched next to Will, tilting his head back to inspect his neck.
"I had it handled." He spoke, a scowl on his forehead, probably annoyed that you had stepped in. "Having your throat squeezed is not what I call having it handled." You simply muttered to him. Will looked like he was about to say something more, but then his eyes widened and he wrapped his arms around your waist.
A split second later the two of you were rolling out of the way of the now enraged pirate who went careening along the very spot you and Will had occupied moments ago. The pirate underestimated his speed and size at the starting point.
Which was why he ran straight into a nearby table of pirates who were none to pleased at being disturbed. That was probably the match that lit the fuse because not a few moments later the entire tavern was in an uproar.
The sound of guns being fired echoed in the air as pirates called insults, shrieked and yelled as they began to pummel one another. It didn't matter if they were friends or foe. In a tavern fight, all relations went out the window. Already furniture was flying through the air, and cutlasses had been drawn from their resting places as the shouts and screams grew to a crescendo.
And through it all, you and Will took refuge under a table. Luckily it was fixed to the floor, so there was no chance of it flying through the air.
Well, refuge wouldn't be the word for it.
When he had rolled you both away from being crushed, he hadn't stopped until his back had hit the legs of the table. Somehow he had managed to drag you under it and now here you were.
Lying underneath him, with him hovering over you.
Your bodies pressed together in the most sinful of ways.
And your eyes locked in a way that if anyone had looked upon you, they would've looked away out of fear that they were intruding upon an intimate moment between two lovers.
The sound of pirates fighting barely registered in your ears as you stared up at Will. You chest rose and fell with every breath you took, slightly out of breath. Then again he was no better, his warm breath fanning your features, as if he had just outrun a host of cannibals. His hands were resting on either side of your head, supporting some of his weight though still allowing your bodies to touch. Your own arms were looped around his waist and though you would never admit it to yourself, they tightened slightly, as if to keep him in place.
His gaze was warm as his eyes flickered over your features, dipping down to your slightly parted lips, the way your nose curved, how your hair fanned out behind your head in a halo. He also noticed how the front of your shirt had dipped down during your little tumble. Though not as indecent as the women he had seen at Tortuga, the placement of the shirt left him imagining more then he should have.
You were no better. Your eyes roamed over his face in an almost lazy manner. You had taken the time to observe him long ago, but this would be the first time you would observe him properly awake and alert. Not to mention you took your time just admiring his eyes and how expressive they were.
Calypso! You were turning into one of those pathetic damsels who needed to be saved all the time.
Slowly, almost agonizingly so, he began to lean down. And as the distance between you grew smaller, you eyes fluttered shut and for once you allowed your body rather then your mind to take the lead.
However just as quickly as the spell had been cast it was broken by the sound of a gun going off right next to your heads.
Instantly Will's hands wrapped around your head, pulling you into his chest as if he were trying to shield you. Luckily the gun had only nicked the leg of the table.
Still the situation would get even more out of hand soon, so it would be best if the both of you left.
"We need to get out of here." You stated once you had pulled away from his protective embrace, though not before allowing yourself one last moment of selfishness by returning the embrace. Unwinding the bandana that was always around your wrist, you made quick work of pulling your hair back from your face to keep it out of the way.
You were about to step out into the heat of things when you felt Will grip your hand. "We should stay here till things calm down." He stated as he crouched next to you. You shook your head. "This could go on for hours and will only get uglier. Its best we leave before that happens."
Glancing down where his hand held yours, you quickly flipped your hand over, allowing your fingers to intertwine. Ignoring the startled yet pleased look on his face, and wishing desperately that you weren't blushing too much.
                                          ————————–
All you had to do was keep to the wall and keep low. It wasn't your first tavern fight and certainly not your last. And while you wanted nothing more then to start swinging your pistols and cutlass, you had to make sure Will was safe.
It didn't take long for the both of you to emerge from the tavern unscathed. And since the fighting had taken to the streets, it was a good while before the both of you had a chance to speak properly to one another.
"Well we needed a good fight to cool tempers." You stated casually, glancing around from the corner of the building where you and Will had taken respite. You barely had the chance to assess the situation when you were yanked back by Will who scowled at you. "Do you want to be hit by a stray bullet?!" He asked, sounding incredulous, though his expression was anything but.
You shrugged. "I have quick reflexes." You reasoned, though your response only had Will rolling his eyes at you. Finally dropping your hand, he pushed up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal the bare skin of your forearm.
In the dim light of a nearby street lamp you could see where the pirate had grabbed you. Already there was a large bruise forming, making you wince. "Hope it doesn't last too long." You muttered, inspecting the bruise by gently poking it with a finger.
"He shouldn't have grabbed you in the first place." Glancing up you were surprised to see Will looking almost stricken at the sight of your bruise. Once again you shrugged. "It comes with being a female pirate. I learned to protect myself years ago."
"Well it shouldn't be like that." You blinked at him. His voice was one of fury and distress. And when he lifted his gaze to look at you, his eyes carried the same emotions. "You shouldn't have to protect yourself all the time."
Not at all liking the way Will was looking at you, it made your heart ache seeing him like that, you gave him a playful grin. "What? You offering to be my protector Turner?"
It was said in jest, but the look that passed over his features had you shaking your head and pointing a finger at him. "Oh no, don't you go getting any stupid ideas Will Turner." You warned him. He only grinned at you. "What? Having me as a protector would be that bad for you?" He asked, though there was a slight tease in his tone when he spoke.
You couldn't help but mirror the grin. "Well you've already taken up the role of fiancee so better to leave some options for other employees." At the reminder, Will couldn't help the small yet soft smile that played across his face. "And did I do my part justice?" He asked, reaching up to brush back a loose tendril of hair from my face.
A small laugh echoed in the alleyway as you finally allowed your eyes to meet his, finally allowed yourself to acknowledge just how close he stood. "Almost." You spoke softly, raising a hand to rest on his chest just as he leaned over you, one arm placed above your head to keep his balance. "Oh? And what could I have done to improve on my role?" He asked, raising an eyebrow even as he let his fingers brush against the softness of your cheek.
With a smile that was as mischievous as it was sinful, you grasped the lapels of the jacket he wore. "How about I show you Turner?" With that, you pulled him into the darkest corner of the alley where he eagerly followed.
                                          ————————–
A/N: I'm a tease aren't I? :3
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ladystarksneedle · 7 months
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A dragon's embrace
Summary: A lady at court weathers the storm, sheltered by a fiery embrace.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: suggestive themes
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The rings on her fingers felt heavy as she sat turning them compulsively, gazing out the window, her thoughts in a whirlwind like the storm brewing outside. It was as if the Baratheons had brought the full might of their anger to the Keep, punishing them for breaking their oath. It made her shiver uncomfortably, sitting alone in his chambers, his cloak offering her meager comfort.
It had been hours since he'd left her there, with a hurried peck on her forehead cradling her face in his hands.
“I shall return soon. No storm shall take me from you.”
Yet the storm raged on, with no sign of him returning from that fateful meeting in the small council chambers.
She had longed to be in this very room for many moons now, sitting at the edge of the bed, on the chaise near the window, at the table breaking their fast, once before dawn as he left to train and again after he came back, fresh from his bath. Each object she stared at cast a heavy shadow across the room, increasing the guilt and worry gnawing at her heart.
“The betrothal is set in stone. It is both advantageous and exemplary. There can be no better match for the Prince,” her father had remarked time and again thoroughly praising his overlords with misplaced reverence.
Yet he had chosen her.
The statuesque lady in gold before her had fumed, albeit silently, before she'd excused herself with grace, leaving her bewildered, face to face with the object of their rivalry. It was never an equal one to begin with, for Aemond had her heart long before she'd come to realize what it meant to be his, long before he stood tall, proudly declaring her as his.
The room erupted in an uproar, the Storm Lord cussing the loudest, demanding trials and reparations for the blatant disrespect to their house, all while her dragon stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Let them come”, he'd said to her moons ago. “I'll show them what it means to face a dragon's wroth.” She'd been sent away soon after by her father, bewildered and shocked at the scene before him with a small nod from her Prince.
“Do not fret like you always do, or I'll make do on my promise of lining the spikes of this dreaded holdfast”
“You know I cannot help it”
“Then it shall be my wedding gift to you sweet girl, a most enjoyable one” he had smirked before leaving her alone.
She wondered now what her father thought of her as he remained locked with the many lords bickering and squabbling amongst themselves. She knew there'd be accusations hurled and insults thrown. She had never wanted to shame him, to make him feel as if she wasn't grateful for all that he'd done, or to make him feel unloved or disrespected, unable to follow through with his wishes, but her heart was a fickle thing, yearning and wanting from the moment she'd seen that flash of silver in the courtyard.
“Prince Aemond, my lady” her septa had said as she led her inside. “He's the second son of King Viserys, betrothed to one of the Baratheon ladies, Floris I'd wager, she's the most comely. They'd make a handsome pair, don't you think?”
She hadn't thought so, as his eye caught hers, unblinking as she bowed her head, passing by him only to find him staring as she insolently gazed back.
His eye never left her henceforth. Whenever she'd find herself in a room with him, their eyes danced in a silent battle of their own. She'd found it hard to look away, drawn to his pool of icy blue, beckoning her at will. His gaze, she'd learned, never faltered. It was sharp and unyielding like the blade he wielded, cutting through the crowd with precision, daunting and alluring. She was cut by him at times and had found herself bruised, on the brink of madness and tears, softened yet again by the changing pool of blue from anger to comfort, idyllic and hazy, never hurting her more than needed.
The sky above her thundered mockingly, changing hue, as she ruminated quietly.
Somewhere in the distance she could hear Vhagar roar, in warning or longing, she did not know, before her eyes were drawn to the door behind. She rose promptly hugging his coat close as she made her way towards him, holding his hands in her own. He had despised touch, initially, hated the feeling of being prodded and felt, yet soon relented to her. She remembered the first time she'd held his arm, almost involuntarily at a dance and how he'd tensed under her fingertips. How she'd coaxed him, much like what she thought how a dragon was, before being claimed. “Lykirī”, he'd told her once sitting before the very fireplace they were seated at now. “That's how you comfort a dragon. You bring your hands towards them in submission and hope they find you worthy.”
He pressed his lips to her temple, bringing her close, running his fingers along her arm, hands still clasped together.
“Lykirī”
His touch burned and soothed her all the same, as he exhaled loudly breaking the silence.
“It is done. We shall be wed in a moon’s time. Your father shall return alone to make the necessary preparations and be back in a fortnight to give you off. You shall resume your duties, in the meantime as you've been doing so these past few moons and nothing shall change.”
“It has though. What of Floris?”
“The Baratheons shall leave tonight.”
“Hmm” she hummed silently.
“You are very quiet my lady. Should you wish to adopt this mantle of silence when we're wed I may be forced to use rather ungallant means to coax you”
“More ungallant than you've already used?” she asked with a smile.
“I had considered you aware of my regimen, it should hardly come as a surprise.”
“No, I suppose not. You are as brutal as you train to be, my prince. You need not worry considering I've already yielded.”
He looked at her satisfied, stroking her arms with rhythmic precision.
“You have lost an important alliance. The Baratheons were essential in securing the stormlands, without them we would lose major footing.”
“Does my wife profess to be a commander too”
“Do not jest, not now,” she replied, shaking as he turned towards her. “I am afraid,” she whispered softly. “I am afraid you’ve made a mistake.”
He hummed in response as his gaze turned, serious and unflinching.
“Tell me my lady, what can you give me that the Baratheons cannot”
“What?”
“Answer my question. What do I gain by marrying you?”, he asked.
“I don't know”
“Daor” he clicked his tongue. “Think” she heard looking at him cocking his head to the side. He expected something different. He expected more.
“I have no money, no land or title sufficient enough that would politically assuage this relation, only a small standing army and a meager portion of land that this wedding would bestow” she said, holding his hand as he looked at her to continue.
“I can only offer myself to you, as a wife. If you seek something important, that is all I can give you, all of me,” she whispered almost pleadingly.
“All of my wishes and desires, my fears and wants for you to bear with me together, with all of yours” she spoke “I can offer you comfort and a willing hand that you hold now, for as long as I shall live. You shall have my touch to soothe you my dragon, whenever you wish, however you wish. That is all I can give.”
The blue of his eye darkened imperceptibly as he squeezed her hand, pleased by her response.
“You shall shift to new chambers down the hall in the morn and you shall continue to see me as I please.”
She nodded in response.
“Lykirī Ābrazȳrys. You have done your part, let your prince weather the storm ahead.”
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Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond
191 notes · View notes
sunshine--void · 10 months
Note
could you possibly do a first kiss scenario with all the puppets, preferably if they made the first move :3 pls n thank u
Of course! Very cute! <3
Sorry it took so long!
@robotoast03
@yuichiroleftarm
🏠 First kiss with WH 🏠
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Wally Darling
The two of you had spent the day painting and he decided he wanted to have yours
But it just wouldn't be right to not give you anything in return :(
So he decided to lean up and peck your lips as payment
"Will that do?"
Afterwards he left to hang the painting up (he was just trying to hide his blushing face); leaving you standing in shock
Heavily inspired by this post :) ( I platonically love you @b-o-e )
Julie Joyful
The two of you had spent the day tending to her garden
And of course she wanted to thank you
So she playfully peppered kisses all over your face before ending with one on your lips
She then took you on a picnic with her
You were left with lipstick all over your face but it was totally worth it! :)
Sally Starlet
The two of you were practicing for her next play
She had very sneakily cast you to be her love interest
And it just so happens that the two characters you were both playing were supposed to kiss
"Alrighty! Are you ready?"
She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips
...then Barnaby messed up the scene
"aww.. looks like we gotta do it again dearie"
Did she hire Barnaby to ruin it...? Yeah probably
Howdy Pillar
You were buying some stuff in his shop
Only to realize at the checkout that you hadn't prepared any jokes :(
But you really need this milk...
You have two options
Steal
Explain it to him
Obviously you chose option two...
Nah I'm just kidding, you leaned up and kissed him
Completely catching him off guard
"Well... That's certainly one way to pay"
That was way easier than practicing a joke, your definitely doing that again
Barnaby B. Beagle
I'm not sure if kissing a dog would be very pleasant tbh...
I'mma pass on this one but you do you ig
Poppy Partridge
She's a bird...
And last time I checked birds have beaks..
...I don't think she can kiss you.
Sorry man :'/
Eddie Dear
He had taken a pretty nasty fall
And you decided to help fix him up
You didn't even think puppets could feel pain
But the reaction he had to you stitching him up seemed to say otherwise
Once you were done, you pressed a kiss to his forehead to make him feel better
You had to stand on your tippy toes to reach
Anyway- it definitely seemed to work
He was much happier now :)
Frank Frankly
I was gonna do frank but I can't think of anything
So sorry :(
I might do it in the future tho
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220 notes · View notes
akingdomscrypt · 3 months
Text
Forget-Me-Not
Part One
Pairing; Gaz x male!reader
WC; ~6.3k
Warnings; none? I don't think?? Lemme know if there are any I should tag
Summary; gaz is definitely an attraction-at-first-sight kinda man/ it's time to wake up from that coma bby <33
A/n; when I said 'fluffy' I meant no one was gettin tortured this time around . Also, yes, this is definitely a set up for a ton of angst content <3 (note the unfinished ch title) There's going to be a "missing scenes" feel to this one, that's intentional.
Edit- I forgot to mention, this takes place before the other two fics, during the mw2 campaign (tho I definitely spread out the events bc no way could this all take place in the span of a week)
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---"this is how we began,"---
Kyle had just gotten back from almost a week of being tossed around like a damn ping-pong ball when he met them. Or, rather, met you.
Fresh out of the shower—yet he swore he could still smell that filthy water on himself—and bored out of his mind with nothing else to do.
It would take a bit of time before Laswell fed them some more actionable intel, and to Kyle's knowledge, the two other members of their team were already on the hunt in Mexico. So all there was to do was wait.
Well, Kyle figured he could probably use this time to catch up on some much needed rest—but where was the fun in that?
He couldn't sleep, not right now, not when Price had informed him of a new squad touching down at their base this afternoon. According to the captain, they—around five or so soldiers—were just here to provide support if needed.
Kyle didn't think it was necessary, but it's not like he had any say in the matter. Especially since, apparently, the squad would only be using their base as a rest stop between their own missions. So, again, he didn't see the point.
But, like any curious soldier would do—and any who were a bit skeptical about their newest comrades—, Kyle was already beelining his way to where he knew the newcomers would touch down.
Kyle had paid attention to the bare minimum information needed to avoid butting heads with the group, but never dug much further than that. Some American mercenaries under General Shepard's direct command and, as he'd mentioned before, here to provide support or something. Again, he hadn't paid much mind to the info thrown at him; honestly didn't think he'd end up meeting them anyhow.
Only when he finally gets out on the tarmac Kyle doesn't immediately rush to greet the new soldiers as he usually would. He comes to a full stop, previously resting heartbeat now running a marathon in his chest, gaze zeroed in on you.
Seeing you—your form lax and almost casual in comparison to your stiff-postured comrades, a certain air of confidence surrounding you—made Kyle wish he'd done a bit more research, asked a few more questions.
Dressed no differently from the rest, there was nothing particularly interesting about you. Nothing that should draw him in so wholly upon merely seeing you. He couldn't even see your face, for fuck's sake—nor could he see any of the rest of the squad's, but that's besides the point.
You hadn't even glanced his way and Kyle was acting like a schoolboy seeing his crush in the hall between classes.
“You're staring, Kyle.”
“Mh- Wha-?” He drags his attention away from you, wholly prepared to start spluttering out his defense when he recognizes the man who'd come to stand beside him. Noticing the barest hint of a smile pulling at his captain's mouth.
With a soft scoff Kyle looks away again, shaking his head a little. “Not at all, Cap’, just scoping out the newcomers. That's all.”
As anyone else would do, of course.
But they both know it's a lie.
Right before Price has the chance to open his mouth again—likely to playfully call Kyle out on his bullshit in that gruff way of his—the aforementioned group of newbies comes to a stop in front of them.
Two in front, three fanned out behind them. Five after all, it seemed. You and some guy in the front, the rest Kyle wasn't sure of, their identities far too obscure to tell.
“Cap-” The guy standing beside you starts to speak, only to be roughly—albeit probably playfully—nudged aside by your elbow, effectively cutting him off.
“Greetin’s Captain,” you say, amusement obvious in your tone, a slight wrinkling at the corners of your eyes betraying a hidden smile.
And Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn't completely enraptured as you spoke. Barely even registering the hand you held out to shake Price’s hand.
“Shadow 0-9, at your service,” though there's still a hint of humor in your voice, there's a certain air of professionalism to it too. Even as you retract your hand and raise it, fingers curled into a fist and thumb jutted out, to gesture to the soldiers around you.
Starting with the one beside you, then on to the three behind you, right to left. “Joined by Shadows 0-3, 1-4, 1-5, and 2-3.”
Then it's on to the actually serious stuff. “Commander Graves has sent us under the General's orders to stay here and provide assistance to your cause if need be. Though mostly we will be carrying out our own missions and using your base as a landing zone between operations.”
And again, amused—your flip-flopping emotions were going to give him whiplash at this rate.
This time clapping a heavy, gloved hand on 0-3’s shoulder, the slight crinkle around your eyes returning. “If y'all got any questions, feel free to ask me,” lightly jostling 0-3 now. “these imbeciles hardly got a clue what's goin' on half the time anyway.”
It's obvious the other four Shadows are used to your antics, as none of them even bat an eye at your, likely empty, insult to their intelligence.
Kyle zones out as Price goes over his own spiel, mind somehow blissfully blank as he stands beside his captain. Thumbs subconsciously slung through his belt loops in place of gripping his vest like he usually would, gaze focused on the group in front of him, giving all the impressions of some serious, gold-star sergeant attentively paying attention to his CO.
That couldn't be further from the truth.
The spell Kyle is under only breaks when Price directs his attention his way, drawing his focus when the man says, “-gent Garrick ‘ere will show you lot around. All the standard things; barracks, mess, rec and the works-”
He then proceeds to space out again when your gaze slips from Price and to Kyle instead, not a single thing out of place as you analyze him.
It feels like you've got a scalpel to his skin, peeling away layer after layer. Through the muscle and fatty tissue, and deeper still, until you've reached the bone, and you keep going.
It's not uncomfortable, the way you tear into him like a rabid hound gobbles up a raw steak. Or maybe not rabid, no, you're not feral. You’re cool and calculating and yet playful all the same. A working dog, a trained hound, then.
It's more.. Kyle doesn't think he harbors the vocabulary to put it into words how he feels about it; flayed alive under your watchful gaze. It's strange. But it's not.. bad.
It's been all of five seconds when your eyes flicks away from him. A quick scan, a once over, just as he had done to your squad, and then you're fixated on Price again.
Price who's still talking, saying things Kyle doesn't have the wherewithal to bring himself to care about. Not when he felt so viscerally raw and unbelievably vulnerable in his own damn base at the moment.
He has a few more seconds to compose himself before Price finishes up and all five of the collectives’ attention is on him, expectant.
And so Kyle plasters on a carefree expression, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and casually nudges Price with a loose fist. A mused, “thanks, Cap'” and such, then he's taking charge.
Voice level and strong, like any typical self-respecting Sergeant, as he turns and urges the group to follow.
The last thing Kyle expects is for you to fall into step beside him—with the impression of your personality he'd gathered, it shouldn't be a surprise—, only lagging a half-step behind, a grin obvious under your mask.
His brain short-circuits, but Kyle quickly recovers, keeping his focus locked straight ahead and decidedly not looking at you. Not for any reason in particular.
“Sergeant,” You drawl—and, fuck, it was just a rank, a title, several others held the same one. So why the hell did it feel so different when you said it?
“Got somethin’ on your mind-” Kyle begins casually, as if his heart wasn't doing literal jumping jacks in his ribcage right now. And it takes him a brief moment to remember what he was supposed to call you, wracking his brain for answers, before he finishes with a bland, “0-9?”
God, he hoped that was the right number. There were five of you, all these numbers were going to be a struggle to keep up with.
“Oh, none ‘a that.” You say with a soft chuckle, waving him off. “I know those digits can get a bit confusing. Call me Viper, that's what everyone else calls me anyway.”
Viper? Like a fucking snake? Not that Kyle had any room to judge; not when two of his teammates were a cleaning product and a Hot Topic employee.
Shite, that probably also meant you wanted him to extend the same damn olive branch. Kyle considered himself a pretty social man, he could hold his own in a group, could approach strangers with almost the same confidence he did with friends.
But there was something about you.
And Kyle wasn't sure if it was good or not.
“A’right, Viper,” Kyle doesn't remember swiping his keycard, but he does jump right back into his body when his hand curls around the handle, pulling the door open and letting you in first before letting your comrades struggle with the heavy door after him. Taking his place just that half a step in front of you once more. “They call me Gaz.”
“There a story behind that one?” You ask, not a single ounce of hesitation or delay.
“That depends, there one behind yours?” Kyle quips right back, not missing a beat.
Kyle's ears pick up the tiniest huff you let out, but nothing else. “That depends,” you mimic. “how much you wanna know?”
“Whatever you'll give me.” It was easy to lay the charm on thick, but it seemed almost like a competition between you two, as you quickly fired back.
“Desperate, are we, Sergeant?” Kyle could've swore you just, honest to God, purred when you said that. But he must've just been hearing things.
“Just curious.” You had asked first. How had this turned on him?
“Mm, think I'll just leave ya guessing.” You muse, closing that half-step distance to just barely brush your arm up against his, and then back to your place again. “It'll be more fun that way.”
Kyle nearly forgets there's four other people witnessing this conversation right then.
Finally alone again, and having gotten the new squad settled in properly, Kyle takes a moment for himself.
As of right now apparently his fellow sergeant and good ‘ol lieutenant were currently taking a tour around Mexico, and Price was out doing very important Captain-things, so Kyle was entirely on his own.
On his own to deal with whatever the fuck that dumpsterfire of a base tour that had been.
He'd been entirely sidetracked by you the whole time! It didn't make any sense, what did you have that the other soldiers didn't?
You all wore the same uniform, all bore the same random-ass numbers, all were just a bunch of trained killers- there was literally nothing to set you apart!
A lot of people were touchy by nature, especially in professions like this that were built on comradery, Soap certainly was, so there was no reason in the deepest parts of hell for why-
Kyle groans softly to himself, running a hand over his hair before pushing himself up and off his desk chair.
There was no rhyme or reason to it, to why he, in the most cheesy fucking way, honestly felt a goddamn spark when you touched him.
And it wasn't even in the realm of- of intimate. It was a simple brush against him here and there, made perfect sense too! You'd been standing so close the entire time- it was only expected that once and a while you two would graze each other now and again.
He's pacing now, wishing nothing more than to be able to pick up his phone and call the only man who'd be able to help him make sense of all these weird feelings. And also the only man who'd call him daft and his brother in the same sentence.
But he can't do that, so Kyle resigned to simply doing what he should've done in the first place after his furious scrub down in the shower; take a damn nap.
Kyle's first impression of your personality had been wildly off-mark.
If he was going off of how he'd first perceived you last week on the tarmac, he would say that you were easygoing, gave off a more.. laid back energy, maybe even a bit quick-witted.
But his current observations said everything but that.
Kyle had been trying to skirt past all the tired, bleary-eyed soldiers that passed him in the hall without being noticed by the more lively of the bunch; he didn't have the energy for that right now. The last few had nearly flown by him though, wide-eyed and clearly spooked.
Confused, Kyle had brushed it off and continued walking. Sometimes these men were like wild horses, alerted by the smallest mishaps.
Kyle becomes keenly aware of exactly why those last stragglers had appeared so frightened when he turns down the next corner, on his way to the rec room, when he spots you.
Or, more accurately, spots you tearing one of your own soldiers a new one in the empty corridor. The very self-explanatory as to why, isolated corridor.
He gets the gist of it fairly quickly, even as the words flying out of your mouth go in one ear and out the other without a hint of recognition.
The shorter man had obviously fucked something up, and was now hearing it in all the jumbled mix of curses and slang Kyle couldn't even begin to comprehend.
“An' if I eva’ ‘ear ya sayin' shit like that again I'll ‘ave ya scrapin’ shit out the muck from the break ‘a dawn ‘n ‘til the damn cows come home, ya hear?” You spit, masked face mere centimeters away from the other's. A gloved hand fisted in 1-5’s, if he remembered correctly, shirt collar, making him have to nearly raise to the toe of his boots in order to not be choked by the fabric.
There's a venomous flare in your eyes when you snap to look at him, a misstep on his part alerting you, and Kyle has never felt more conflicted in his life.
“Everything good here, Viper?” Obviously not, but what else was he supposed to say?
“Just peachy.” You grit out, fingers slowly unfurling from 1-5’s shirt. In turn the poor man is able to lower himself back onto the ground fully, letting out an obvious breath of relief when your hand pulls back completely, falling clenched at your side.
The brave soul who had somehow triggered the brunt of your aggression manages to stand there a little longer until you huff out a gruff, “dismissed.” And send 1-5 on his way.
Though not before barking out a, “And be sure ‘ta relay the message ‘ta Pierce!” As the man scurries away, a quick “yes, sir!” choked out over his shoulder.
“And if I asked what that was about?” Kyle asks when 1-5 is out of sight, raising a curious eyebrow.
“I'd say it ain't yer business, Garrick.” You snap, still obviously not having gotten the frustration out of your system. Kyle's first instinct is to throw another quip right back at you, extra sarcasm on top like it's sprinkles and he's making a damn sundae, and he almost does, but Kyle quickly slams his mouth back shut before the words escape.
Instead he sighs and relaxes his posture.
“Y’look like shit.”
That seems to put a halt to whatever was rampaging through your head, the rage clearing for a moment to make room for shock first, then confusion.
“..what?” Your clearly puzzled gaze—so expressive, even with the mask—would be humorous, if not for the truth to Kyle's words.
You did look like shit. Like someone had run a train on you—literally. A real one; honk honk, rattle rattle and all. Your hair ruffled, matted with some unknown substance and sticking up in every which direction. The black paint around your eyes was smudged away and exposed your true skin tone, well.. kinda. Now with the additional flavor of mud and debris.
Even with the limited access he had to your face, Kyle would say you looked.. tired. Run ragged—maybe that train wasn't all that metaphorical. Beneath the anger it was clear as day you were just exhausted; you looked nothing like that first day he'd met you, when he had shown you around base.
Hidden grin and playful banter replaced with a stiff posture and veiled limp—yeah, he definitely noticed that part. You weren't the only observant one here.
“I said you look like shit, mate.” Kyle says. His clarification doesn't, well, clear anything up for you, if anything just frustrating you further. Making your eyebrows furrow in a way that's almost cute.
You huff, posture straightening even though Kyle can see the way the new position puts a strain on your worn body- he doesn't mention it. It's not his place.
“Thanks.” You reply, voice flat.
“It was a compliment.” It wasn't.
Deadpan, “really?”
“Mhm.” But Kyle stays firm in his resolve.
“I aim to please.”
“Clearly.” And there it is. Kyle can't see it, obviously, but the small twitch of your features, the slightest crinkle at the corner of your eye, tells him he has succeeded. Even if it's not your usual smile—not that he would know what that looked like.
Another puff of air from you, closer to a sigh this time. “Did you need somethin', Gaz?”
The heat is gone, but Kyle can see the way the embers linger; ready to reignite at the first spark.
“How ‘bout we take a walk, mh?” He wasn't planning on a walk, really, but Kyle wasn't actively planning against one either. “Clear your head a bit?”
You look like you want to brush him off, hesitating like you want to say no and rush off just like your subordinate had. But you don't. “..sure.”
And that's all Kyle needs to tilt his head in the direction he came from before turning around.
Kyle doesn't have to look back to know you've taken your place the position on his left, half a step behind him. Just as you had that first day.
It becomes a sort of.. routine.. after that. And while Kyle hadn't seen much of you that first week, you make an appearance by his side—always on the left, always half a step behind—more often than not.
A little spark of some unidentifiable emotion lighting up in your eyes when you see him. Kyle isn't quite certain what it means, but if it meant he got to see you more often, he was fine with not knowing.
You were.. friends. Or as much as you could be in this situation, one Kyle knew was temporary. Which had the man trying to heed Ghost's advice for once and not get attached; there was no telling when either of you would be shipped out again, never to return.
“Gaz!” The sound of your voice is unmistakable when shouted over the noisy chatter of the cafeteria, and Kyle's heart definitely does not do a weird flip when he hears it. Definitely not.
Yeah, so he may or may not be struggling with the whole following Ghost's advice thing. Hey! He said he was trying, not that it was actively working.
“Viper.” Kyle greets when you take a seat in front of him. Usually he would have lunch with his dear captain, but Price was even more busy as of late—and reasonably so—and the lack of that familiar presence was really starting to wear on him. Made the lack of another pair of comrades much more prominent.
“Did you know your bellybutton is actually attached to your bladder-”
You filled in that empty space a little.
“What? I thought it was just cut off from everything else?”
Kyle never did find out what had you so down in the dumps, but it wasn't his place to know anyway. Everyone had their secrets.
“No! There's a lil' line that travels from your bellybutton down to your bladder. That's why it feels so damn weird when touched-”
You were a little spitfire. Reminded him of Soap, kinda. Except Soap didn't flip flop from fiery rage one moment to calm and collected the next, buttery smooth words dripping with innuendo.
And then there was right now, where you shared the strangest little factoids with Kyle.
“And don't even get me started on the dormant blood vessel in your liver-”
And that is where Kyle drew the line.
“Nope, nope, nope-” Kyle says, waving a fork in your general direction. Amused when you gasp in surprise, as if he's threatening you with something more substantial than this flimsy plastic. “I am eating. I don't wanna hear gross facts about my anatomy.”
“Would you prefer a physical demonstration on anatomy instead?”
And that was the weird innuendos he mentioned before. Sure, Soap and him shared a few playful taunts now and again, occasionally the rest of the team would chime in—and there was whatever the hell Soap and Ghost had going on, but Kyle didn't think those were all jokes. But this felt.. different.
“You are a menace, you know that?” Kyle huffs, twirling some bland mush around the fear-inspiring fork from before; now that he wasn't actively threatening you with it.
A dramatic gasp, and Kyle doesn't even have to look up to know you look just as dramatized as you sound.
“I am a damn saint, Gaz!”
“Rigghhhht, is that what we're calling this?” He does look up this time, and the slight widening of your eyes, the little glimmer of something hiding in those captivating hues, makes him glad he did. Pocketing that adorable priceless look on your face for safekeeping.
“I've got the body, the attitude,” you count with both hands, a finger for each listed item. Gaze on something vaguely to your right as you think. “And the charm! That's like- the fuckin' holy trinity. I'm a damn holy temple, I tell ya!”
“Sure you are, mate.” Kyle says, a small grin on his face that he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to. It does make eating a little difficult though.
He tries not to linger on the fact that you never eat in front of him. But you always come to hang out with him anyway.
Things are good between you two, and Kyle feels warm and giddy every time you grace him with your, as you'd once put it, saintly presence. He doesn't ponder much as to the why he feels this way; not that it really matters, this was temporary and you'd be shipped off somewhere else eventually.
That space to his left feels cold when you're not there, empty, and even though he's never worked with you in the field, Kyle finds himself looking back, expecting you to be there when he crawls through tall grass and mud in that suffocating ghillie suit.
It's dumb and Kyle doesn't know why he does it, but he half expects you to chip in a word or two over his shoulder in the midst of his playful banter with Price and Laswell. When he is, once again, pushing through tall grass. Only this time he gets to snipe a few dozen unsuspecting soldiers from hundreds of meters away.
Things are going well, so damn well, almost too good to be true. And it is.
Kyle would have never expected to hear such raw panic in his captain's voice, accustomed to the man's usual gruff and composed behavior. It strikes fear right into Kyle's core, cutting through his chest and piercing directly into the sergeant's heart.
In the beginning, Kyle had been eager to get this over with and fly back to base with the expectation of seeing you again; now that idea was nothing but a passive thought as his mind was clouded with a worry mirroring Price's.
Kyle's entire torso feels like it's been ripped to shreds when they touch down on base again, every step shooting sparks of pain through his nerves and reminding him why he hates heights so damn much. But at least they managed to get Laswell back before anything could go terribly wrong. They had Farah and her soldiers to thank for that.
Wanting nothing more than to soak himself in a tub of scalding hot water, and knowing he'll have to settle for a lukewarm shower instead, then sleep the pain away, Kyle's path is interrupted by the sight of you marching down the corridor.
“Gaz! Shit- there you are!” You call when a few paces away from him, a sort of relief obvious in your breathy tone. You come to an abrupt halt right in front of him, blocking Kyle's way and causing him to come to a sudden stop lest he accidentally crash into you.
Your eyes are analytical and Kyle is far too exhausted to decipher the several layers of emotion that flash through your gaze.
In the end you seem to come to some sort of conclusion, stating a flat, “Y’look like shit.”
“Yeah,” Kyle huffs out a surprised laugh; the phrase reminiscent of when he'd caught you chewing out one of your soldiers. “Falling out of a helicopter doesn't usually make for a pretty sight.”
“Fuckin'- pardon!?” Your eyes go wide, and Kyle would bet your mouth was hanging open right now too. “How the hell did that even happen?”
Kyle couldn't reveal too much of their little rendezvous in Urzikstan, but he could tell you the gist of it. Namely how the fuck he got tossed out of Nikolai's helicopter like a damn ragdoll.
“Was helping out a friend,” car hopping and trying not to get shot at in the process. “Got a bit tossed around, you know how it is- RPG, couldn't deploy countermeasures in time..”
“Luckily I got the rope latched in time, shit hurt the most when the rope ran out.” Kyle's hip bones ache at the memory, and he knows for certain his body will be one giant bruise in the morning.
“Are- are you okay-?” You stammer, gaze no longer on him and now flicking over his dirtied uniform. Never lingering on one spot.
“I'll bounce back soon eno-” Your hands reach out then, as if wanting to touch him and make sure for yourself. Kyle cuts off mid sentence, eyes widening by a fraction and body going stiff.
As if just realizing what you were doing, your hands pause where they are, hovering awkwardly between the two of you. Your gloves and his own gear serve as a thick barrier between your bodies, but Kyle swears there is an energy buzzing there; an electric static thriving in the air between you both, the tension near suffocating.
“I'm just gonna..” it takes Kyle a second to realize you've fully retracted your hands by now, a stale awkwardness lingering between you two.
Kyle isn't sure whether to feel disappointed or be appalled by how much he wished you had touched him. Between the fluctuating altitudes he'd endured and the full body ache he was currently experiencing, Kyle comes to the conclusion that it must just be the exhaustion finally kicking in. Yes, of course. That is why he was mourning the loss of something that hadn't even happened. There was no other possible reason.
Clearing his throat with a stilted cough, Kyle nods. “Y-yeah, definitely. And I should take that shower..”
“Of course, yeah-” Your gaze is downcast now, arms tucked behind your back and Kyle notes the nervous shift of your weight from one foot to the other. “You- you do that.”
“Yeah.” And then Kyle hightails his ass out of there, it's a little awkward—who is he kidding, it's beyond awkward. And how many times was he going to say awkward, would any other synonyms suffice? You had been standing in front of him, so Kyle has to do a weird little hop to the side to get around you- which then triggers you into motion. And you step to the side to get out of his way.
Only the direction your subconscious chooses is once again right in his path and Kyle stumbles over his own feet, barely avoiding colliding with you but pulling on his sore muscles in a way that has him digging his teeth into his lip to avoid letting out a sharp yelp.
When Kyle regains his balance, the hallway is empty and you're nowhere to be found. With a deep sigh, and a heavier weight on his shoulders than before, Kyle straightens back up and continues on his way to his initial destination.
There better be some warm water left when he gets there.
As it turned out, falling out of a helicopter and just barely surviving by sheer luck did actually have its drawbacks and one couldn't just walk away with a few scrapes and expect to be a-okay in the ol’ nob up top.
For Kyle that meant various scenes playing out in his dreams of what could have happened, not what did. Ranging from him not having clipped the hook onto his gear right, to the rope just snapping in half the minute Kyle reached the end of the line. Even some where he just straight up splat into the back of one of the many trucks that had been flying by. The worst had to be when the helo was hit dead on and Kyle wasn't even given the chance to make things right, bleeding out and dying right then and there in the cabin of Nikolai's helicopter.
Waking up drenched in a cold sweat wasn't anything new to the sergeant, but waking up alone, as of late, was. Usually he was bunked up with Soap, and when not on base, or stationed on another, he was grouped up with other soldiers.
Being forced into the waking world with his heart lodged in his throat and beating so fast it was practically trying to escape, with the aches and bruises that made the nightmares all that more real, and being stuck inside a dark, empty room? Now that just wasn't pleasant at all.
Pushing through the stabbing aches radiating throughout his body, Kyle forces himself to stand, haphazardly throws on an old hoodie and decides right then and there he needs a cup of tea. Extra steamy.
The walk to the common room, and subsequently the kitchenette beyond that, is short and Kyle doesn't have to think about it when he places one foot in front of the other. His legs easily carried him to his destination without the need for any extra brainpower.
Kyle doesn't notice the looming figure in the dark, obscured by shadow in the corner of the rec room, until he's already got a burning hot mug between his hands. Passing back through now that he's got his tea, he's graciously welcomed back by a lamp in the corner flicking on.
He blames the high-pitched squeal that rips from his throat on his exhaustion and not that he'd been spooked by a fucking light of all things.
“Viper- shit,” He breathes, the hand not currently cradling the mug flying up to clutch at his heart.
“Sorry.” You murmur, sounding a bit sheepish. Your voice is a little deeper than usual and Kyle assumes you must've also woken up recently. He opts to ignore the small flutters that erupt in his stomach at the sound. “Couldn't sleep. Didn't think anyone else would be out ‘ere, wasn't tryna startle ya.”
Kyle moves to wave off your concern, only to wince at the strain it puts on his sore muscles, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth.
You, ever the observant bastard, immediately zero in on his discomfort, one of your eyebrows quirking upward as you study him.
“Alright?”
Not trusting his voice, Kyle hums a noncommittal sound, and, trying to appear at least a little put together, straightens his posture and steps forward.
But the pain is worse now and he nearly spills his tea, instinctively tightening his grip around the steamy mug.
Fuck, Kyle had known it would hurt—Christ’s sake, he had literally fallen out of a damn helicopter—but he had obviously severely underestimated how bad it would be. Now, he was used to pain, you didn't get very far in this line of work without at the very least some tolerance for the aches and burns.
But this? This was a pain that went from an average sort of soreness in the muscles of his thighs, to sharp stabbing pains in his hips and a near debilitating throbbing ache that spanned over practically his entire torso.
Everything hurts. Laying down hurts. Standing hurts. Sitting hurts. Everything. Unless he stayed completely still, Kyle's entire body felt like one giant bruise. Any little twitch of a muscle sent a stabbing shock straight to his nervous system.
You're on your feet and standing in front of him before Kyle even has a chance to right himself again. When had his breathing become so labored?
There's no hesitation this time around, no awkwardness when your hands shoot out. Grasping his shoulders, your hold gentle yet firm, and stabilizing Kyle where he stood.
Kyle isn't quite sure when it had happened, but the warmth of his mug was gone. Replaced by the heat of your own body from where his hands rested—really, more or less hanging on for dear life; he'd be ashamed if he had the wherewithal to do so—on your waist. Fingers curled tight, twisted and snagged into the fabric of your shirt.
If Kyle hadn't been so out of it from the sheer amount of pain he was in, he would've noticed your lack of uniform. More dressed down than he'd ever seen you—though a mask still firmly in place, he would've noticed if it were otherwise.
“Did anyone check you out when you came back?” Kyle has to actively work to zone back in on the rough timber of your voice, his mind sluggish as it works through each word and syllable.
“Y- kinda? I wasn't bleeding out or nothing.”
“Oh, fuck's sake-” you let out a heavy exhale, and Kyle, though as disorientated as he currently is, can here the unsaid you’re a goddamn idiot clear as day in that singular breath.
“Alright. You're comin' with me.”
“Wh- huh?”
“With me. No questions, Garrick.” You hold no authority over him, if anything, this being his base, and not yours, Kyle had a bit more of a say in matters than you did. And yet, when you release your hold and untangle yourself from his, Kyle follows.
There is nothing stopping you from touching him now. Not since last night.
Kyle can still feel your hands, strong and yet so, so unbelievably delicate, running across his skin. Scouring his abdomen for anything that would clue you in on whether he had internal bleeding or not, pressing down on his bruised rib cage, checking for breaks in the fragile bone.
Thankfully, you find nothing but the bruising painted clearly on his skin, and Kyle can't get the picture, the feel, of your hands brushing over his stomach. Up his sides and down to his hips, further still to his aching thighs. The latter had been over his clothes, but the heat of your palms had been more than enough.
The following day, and practically every waking second now, Kyle's mind and eyes were on you. If he couldn't see you, he was thinking about you. And if he could see you, you were usually at his side. A hand on his shoulder, an elbow nudging his arm.
Kyle now found himself in an odd state of yearning. His body craved your touch in a way it never had for any other's. His heart skipped a couple beats every time he even caught sight of you.
And when you touched him? Shit, Kyle had to hope and pray the blush he could feel warming his cheeks wasn't as visible as it felt.
Kyle wasn't quite sure why he reacted to you the way he did. And, honestly, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He was perfectly content not knowing—was he? Or was he just burying what he didn't want to acknowledge?
He didn't ruminate on the fact that Soap had a tendency to touch him similarly—but, shit, it was different, wasn't it?—, and never had Kyle once responded to it the way he did with you.
If Price had noticed—which he likely hadn't with what was going on halfway around the globe. Soap and Ghost stuck somewhere in Mexico, and of course the constant planning on what their next move would be. The captain didn't mention it.
If Soap was here, he'd probably call Kyle out on his bullshit. But he wasn't, and Kyle was perfectly alright with continuing to ignore the, definitely one-hundred percent platonic, convoluted emotions he felt towards you.
Things were good; the last thing Kyle wanted was to accidentally rock this delicate sailboat when he currently had unlimited access to your bubbling laugher, sarcastic quips, and crinkling eyes.
A Viper, that's what you were nicknamed after, and, with that fiery attitude of yours, Kyle was starting to understand why.
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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.
Part I: leaving the crime scene.
Part II: the phone call.
Part III: a visit to the morgue.
Part IV: the lunch break.
Part V: lunch part II.
Part VI: the perfect cover.
Part VII: the storage closet.
Part VIII: case closed.
Part IX: finding their way.
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Must you always be so... so stubborn, Katie?
Apparently, the answer to the question her parent's had frustratedly asked her on many occasions was a big, fat yes.
It's not that she hadn't tried to be a little softer, a little less headstrong. She had decided - the moment she arrived home, alone... again - that she could forgive and forget this whole mess. Because, like Lanie had said (and like she already knew) Castle had only done what he thought was the right thing.
He had explained how they had ended up in his Loft rather than the fancy restaurant he had made reservations at. He had explained the alarming phone call, the shattering glass. And he had explained that no matter what he said or did, Kristina had been on a  mission to get exactly what she wanted.
If anything, he was the victim in all of this. Maybe, just maybe, it was her who owed him an apology. 
Then, as if timed by fate itself, there was a knock at her door. 
He came bearing a heartfelt apology, the intent to start and finish a true conversation about them (one they probably should have had before returning to work, but better late than never) and a promise. A promise that he understands, that is scared too, but that he truly believes they can find their way. 
And just like that, she was ready to forgive. 
She leant in, smile still bright on her face, and Castle dipped his head to brush his  lips against hers. However, it seemed forgiving was going to be much easier than forgetting. The images she had spent the better half of the night fighting off flooded back to the forefront of her mind and she pulled back from the impending we're good now kiss. 
"I'm sorry, I can't," she said as she shook her head slightly, hoping to erase the images like an etch-a-sketch. "It's too soon. I just keep seeing her boobs in your face." 
She walked away, just a few steps to gain a little bit of distance, a little bit of perspective. She just wanted her mind to stop taunting her like this. She wanted the memories to be gone, for good. 
And then came the softly spoken, heartbroken words that managed to do exactly that.
"Do y- do you want me to leave?" 
She turned to face him, took in the pained look of regret that was etched so deep in the tired lines of his face and shook her head.
"No," she said definitively, closing the space between them. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired."
And confused, and angry, and a little hurt; but mostly just tired.
She reached up and delicately traced her thumb over his cheek.
"Stay with me?" she whispered the request. "Please." 
He nodded, followed as she led him toward her bedroom. He removed his clothing, down to his boxers, as she pulled back the covers and climbed onto the bed. Kneeling, she moved over to his side and placed her hands on his hips. He joined her on the mattress, kneeling before her, and brushed the hair of her ponytail over her shoulder. 
"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered and she nodded. 
"Me too." 
She leaned in, kissed him slowly. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting - the taste of betrayal, perhaps - but his lips, his tongue; it just tasted like him. Sweet, loyal, hopelessly in love Castle. And her reservations melted away.
Castle pressed his forehead to hers but cupped her face to keep her close; he didn't want to lose this connection, but he also didn't want her to feel rushed. 
"We don't have to," he assured her.
But she shook her head. "I want to." 
Still, he hesitated. She knew that was her fault: she had let her emotions lead her actions too much over these past few days. These past few weeks, actually. And now he was being overly cautious, taking on the role that she would usually fill. Because that was how they worked: serious and unserious, head in the clouds and feet firmly on the ground, a hopeless romantic and a logical thinker. They levelled each other other, brought one another to this ideal middle ground that just seemed to work so perfectly for them. 
But this? This role reversal they had slipped into, it wasn't them It wasn't right. 
"I'm okay, Castle." She assured him with a kiss. "We're okay." 
And she was determined for her words to become truth. 
She kissed him again, with more urgency than before, and he gave into his desires. 
His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, relished in the feel of her body pressed flush against his. 
"I want you," he panted as he moved his attention to peppering kisses along her jawline and down her neck. His hands wandered down her body to her thighs, then glided back up the bared skin and underneath her sleep shirt. "Only you." 
"Show me," she whispered. They broke apart, looked into one another's eyes for just a few short seconds before she smiled and repeated her request. "Show me how much you want me." 
He did exactly that. He poured all the love he had for her into a long, slow, reverent kiss as he lay her back on her bed. He touched her with gentle hands, like she were a priceless artifact to be handled with the utmost care. Kissed her in a way that soothed the hurt and confusion they had both felt in this tumultuous transition into life outside of their little love bubble. Their love-making was a promise that tomorrow was a new day - undoubtedly with new challenges to face - but no matter what may have come their way, they could figure this out together... they could find their way. 
And, in a way that only they could, they righted all their wrongs.
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cherry-holmes · 8 months
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Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña (series)
Chapter 6
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MAIN MASTERLIST
Summary: Talking about the past isn’t easy for everybody. But when you trust someone, it can be therapeutic and healing to the heart.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Previous chapter
Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader
Word count: +3.3k
Warnings: Angst & comfort❤️‍🩹 Mentions of parent loss and parent abandonment. Mentions of domestic violence. Brief making out scene. Mentions of virginity/first time sex.
A/N: Chapter 6 here we go. Honestly I never thought I’ll go this further🙃 glad I did tho. As always thank u so much for your support and your comments and likes and reblogs, means the world to me!
I’m taking requests, as always!
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Javier Peña was usually always angry and stressed due to the nature of his demanding and complicated work. You were used to see him walking around the office with a frown on his handsome face, leaving the base hurry, his gun tucked on his back, ready for whatever danger the next raid had to offer. He was professional and he was seriously committed with his work and his duties, he was focused on the reason that brought him to Colombia and he was certainly determined to catch Escobar.
However, every time he entered the room where you were, his whole world just lighted up. And now that you had became officially his girlfriend, he was just in a good mood most of the time.
Three days ago, you had accepted him to be your beloved one, and a sense of contentment filled Javier's from that day, a sharp contrast to his typically high-stress life as a DEA agent in Colombia. He still carried the weight of his mission, but your presence made it more manageable. The love and companionship you offered were precious to him, and he cherished every moment you spent together.
Javier wasn't going to lie to himself; he was used to satisfying his sexual needs quite frequently. Given how much he loved and desired you, taking things slow with you might indeed be the most challenging thing he had ever done. However, he wasn't a hormonal teenager, he was a grown ass man, he could keep his dick in his man pants and he could take care of himself.
He hadn't mentioned the idea of going to his or your apartment again, as he was waiting for you to take that step. He didn't dare to ask you such a personal question, but he had also spent the last two nights wondering if you wanted to wait because you might still be a virgin. It was something he had never thought about before, as he genuinely didn't care whether you were or not. He was well aware that both men and women had the right to enjoy their sexuality freely and willingly, and that included you. When he asked you if Diego knew where you lived, and you confirmed it, his mind naturally jumped to the assumption that something might had happened.
Now he needed to know if you were a virgin, just to be aware of your needs and what you expected from him. He was willing to wait for you, he can be patient when it's worth the wait. You were worthy.
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At the end of the workday, while you were organizing the documents you had translated into their corresponding file cabinets and preparing to pack your belongings, Javier appeared in your office. He had a cigarette between his lips and was still dressed in his suit.
"Hey," he announced himself, causing you to turn around with a wide smile. You rushed into his open arms, wrapping yours around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. "Does that mean you missed me?" he asked playfully.
"I don't know, what does this tell you?" You responded in a lower voice, leaning in again to place another sweet and gentle kiss on him. His hands encircled your waist, squeezing your soft flesh, and he deepened the kiss.
Javier and Steve had been invited to spend the entire day at the Colombian Embassy, attending countless meetings with the new American Ambassador for Colombia. You hadn't seen him all day until now. He hadn't even had time to pick you up from your apartment in the morning, so you had missed him dearly.
"Maybe I should make you miss me more often," he suggested as you broke the contact, his hands pulling you closer.
"Don't you dare," you playfully responded, smoothing his suit and adjusting his tie. "You look handsome, though" you added casually, but when you looked up at him again, you noticed a change in his eyes. They had darkened, and a devilish grin now adorned his face. His playful demeanor took a more seductive turn.
You couldn't deny the chemistry between you two. Every moment with Javier was electric, and your attraction to him was undeniable. His scent, a mix of cologne, cigarettes, and the faintest hint of danger, drew you in. Your heart raced as his lips found yours again in a passionate kiss, and the room seemed to close in around you as he pressed you against the desk, his hands firmly gripping your hips.
Reluctantly, you pushed Javier back slightly, your hands still resting on his strong chest.
"Javi, I..." you began, but he silenced you with another soft kiss.
"I know, bonita," he murmured, his voice still tinged with desire. "It's okay." He took a step back, but his eyes remained fixed on you as his hands moved to hold yours. "I was wondering if you'd like to grab your favorite arepas for takeout and then spend the night at my place."
You hesitated, your mind filled with memories of past experiences that had left you wary of such propositions. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea," you started, your concerns etched on your face.
Javier gave you the most irresistible puppy-dog eyes as he gently lifted your chin with a finger. "Bonita, it's just dinner and share my bed," he reassured. "I promise I won't do anything you don't want, unless you ask me to. Please, you don't even know my apartment yet."
His sincerity and the allure of spending more time with him won you over. A smile crept across your face as you gave a small nod. "Alright, Javi. But if you get any funny ideas, you'll have to answer to me."
Javier grinned, his eyes lighting up. "I promise, bonita. No funny business, unless you're up for it," he swore and winked at you.
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The night sky was pouring rain as you followed Javier to his apartment. Luckily you had an umbrella, which you used to protect the both of you, holding onto his arm as you entered the building. However, your shoes were soaking, causing you to slipped as you tried to cross the hallway to his apartment.
After he found the key and opened the door, he stepped aside, gallantly allowing you to enter first. When he turned on the lights, you were welcomed by a bachelor apartment. The place smelled just like him: a mix of male cologne, cigarettes, whiskey, and a subtle woody undertone.
Javier's apartment had a rugged yet inviting feel to it. The living area was adorned with masculine touches and minimalist decoration. The kitchen appeared almost untouched, leather couches provided ample seating, and a center table with an ashtray took center stage. By the window, there was a small bar table, which gave you a hint that this was indeed a bachelor pad. There where photos nowhere to be seen.
Javier and you took off your shoes and then he gestured toward the living area with a smile. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll go grab our arepas. Anything to drink?" He seemed genuinely excited to have you in his space, his earlier promise of not pushing things evident in his demeanor.
"Will you have coffee by any chance?" you asked, and he nodded.
"Sure, darling," he said as he placed the plastic bag on the table and began setting up an improvised coffee maker on the stove burner. You offered to help, but he insisted you make yourself comfortable on his couch.
A couple of minutes later, he returned to you with a plate of arepas and two mugs of hot coffee. Your shared love for coffee was one of those quirky things that made your connection special. Neither of you was deterred by caffeine late in the evening; it seemed to have no impact on your or Javi's sleep.
"So," you began, sipping your coffee, "how was your day?"
Javi shook his head as he took a bite of an arepa. "Terrible," he muttered when he swallowed the food, "there were so many people. You know, the suit-and-tie assholes who act like catching Escobar is as simple as catching a fuckin' cat."
Javi's expression grew more animated as he spoke. "I swear, they sit in those conference rooms, drinking their fancy coffees, and spouting off about how they'd handle it differently, like it's a damn board game. It's frustrating, dealing with people who have no idea what it's like on the ground."
You nodded, understanding the frustration. "It's easy to have opinions when you're not the one out there, facing the danger."
He smiled, appreciating your understanding.
As you gazed at Javier, your admiration for him deepened. His dedication to his work, the pursuit of justice, and the fight against the drug cartels was nothing short of heroic in your eyes.
You marveled at his unwavering commitment to making the world a better place, even in the face of danger and uncertainty. He was a symbol of bravery and hard work, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride to have him in your life.
His strength, both physically and emotionally, resonated with you. You couldn't imagine the weight of the responsibilities he carried as a DEA agent.
"Your parents must be so proud of you," you said, as you felt a pang of jealousy. You wished you had that kind of affection.
However, you noticed how his eyes suddenly saddened as he bit slowly into his food and looked at you as if he were deciding whether or not to tell you something related to your mention of his family. You and Javier had talked about a lot of things through the time you had known each other, but family hadn't been part of the conversation yet. Both of you had a dark side to that soft spot.
"I hope so," he said finally, "I had to leave my father alone at his ranch back in Laredo, my mother passed away when I was fifteen," he explained. "I can only hope that everything is worth it."
You felt regretful for mentioning his family as soon as you heard him. You could see the pain in his features, memories returning to his mind.
"Oh, Javi, I'm so sorry," you said, suddenly losing your appetite. "I had no idea..."
"Don't worry, bonita," he assured you, softening his eyes, taking your hand to plant a kiss on it. You wouldn't push him to tell you something he wasn't ready to share with you.
However, Javier leaned back on the leather couch, his eyes distant for a moment.
"My father inherited the family business his grandfather started," he began, lighting a cigarette, "he runs a cattle ranch. He was a strict but loving father." He let smoke escape from his mouth, the movement accentuating his sharp jaw. "My mother, she was the real heart of the family, always caring for everyone. There was just the three of us on a big and prosperous ranch. They gave me a beautiful childhood. I learned from them the value of hard work."
A lightning bolt struck in the distance as he continued to open his heart, and the room filled with the smoke from his cigarette. "That was until she was diagnosed with cancer, and she didn't make it within the next six months. Her loss was so sudden, unexpected. It was a tough time, and after she was gone, things changed. I had to grow up fast and take on more responsibilities."
You listened intently, your heart going out to him as he shared a part of his life that he had kept hidden.
"I've always had a good relationship with my father," he admitted, a hint of guilt in his voice. "I felt torn leaving the ranch, but my father encouraged me to pursue my career, just as my mother would have wanted. We talk on the phone regularly; he's the one who keeps me grounded."
You nodded, understanding that the ranch was more than just a place for Javier; it was a part of his identity and a connection to his family. The ache of missing his mother and the responsibilities he had shouldered at a young age had shaped him into the man you knew today, strong and compassionate.
There was a moment of silence, announcing the end of his anecdote. Having shared a significant part of his own family story, he wanted to know more about you. "What about your family, bonita?" he inquired, looking into your eyes with genuine interest. "If you're comfortable, I'd like to hear about them."
You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to open up about your own family experiences. Eventually, you decided it was the right moment to share a piece of your own past.
"Well, I have two lovely older sisters, Sara and Silvia" you began, your voice slightly trembled, "but my relationship with my parents was complicated. We were the ideal picture of a perfect, happy family only when we were in front of others.'' Your voice quivered as you continued, and Javier sat closer, his presence a source of comfort, but he maintained a respectful silence as you shared your past.
"The truth was that my father was a violent, drunk man, and my mother was a strict and very religious woman," you explained, your eyes reflecting the pain of those memories. "She always hoped that our faith would save us from our struggles, but it wasn't that simple."
"As for my father, he left us when I was ten," you continued, your fingers toying with a strand of your hair. "But my relationship with my mother remained strained. She blamed me and my sisters for our father's abandonment. The pressure of her faith and our family's problems made things more difficult."
Javier's gaze remained fixed on you, his brown eyes filled with empathy. "Mi abuelo, my mother's father, was also very religious," you continued, a touch of warmth in your voice as you remembered your grandfather. "But he was so kind and cared so much for his only granddaughters after a family full of boys. He took care of us, and despite my mother's refusal to allow us to study, he paid for the three of us to go to university."
His hand reached out to gently touch yours, offering silent support.
"He and my sisters encouraged me to leave home and follow my dreams, although my mother still doesn't speak to me. She thinks I'm a whore and a stray for having left home 'without getting married,'" you explained. You got lost in the memories of your parents' fights and how you used to hide in the closet with Sara as Silvia played loud music in your shared room to shield her younger sisters from the screams and blows. ''I heard my father remarried and has two sons, but I can't be sure, he never came back to look for us.''
Javier listened to your story with understanding. He could see the pain in your eyes, and it made him want to protect you from the world. You had both shared your deepest scars, and the connection between you had deepened.
After a brief moment of silence, he gently whispered, "Thank you for sharing that with me, bonita."
"You too, Javi. I'm glad that you trust me," you said, leaning in to place a kiss on his soft lips. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the rain outside providing a soothing backdrop to your intimate conversation.
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You weren't sure how things began to heat up. It began with innocent caresses, leading to deeper kisses, and then you found yourself reclined on the length of his couch, his body almost over you, kissing your neck as his hands squeezed your thigh.
Javier was waiting for you to stop him. He would stop immediately if you just pushed him back or said "no." He was waiting for you to take the next step or to put an end to it. And when you didn't, he simply decided to go further and see what would happen.
One of his hands reached to cup one of your breast over the fabric of your dress. You moan in the middle of a kiss as he massaged your soft flesh gentle but confident. Then, he workshiped your body along your waist and hips, until he reached the hem of your dress, lifting it just enough to travel on the soft skin of your bare inner thighs. You whimpered in his ear, causing a shiver to run down his back.
But as soon as you felt his broad hand cupping your core, you gasped and gentle pushed him back.
"Wait," you pleaded as you tried to sit up straight again, catching your breath. He gave you space, pulling back. "Javi, I can't..." you said, trying to find the right words. You noticed how he tried to cover the bulge in his pants with a knitted blanket as if it was nothing. But you knew it was something. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... you know, I..."
"No, I am sorry," he said, his voice doing its best to sound composed. "I promised you there wouldn't be any funny business. I just let myself carried away."
"It's not that I don't want to be with you," you began to explain, "I do, Javi, but I don't feel I'm ready in this moment... I've never been with anyone before, it's just complicated..."
Javier's expression shifted from intense to soft and understanding. "First of all, you don't have to explain anything to me. Secondly, thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, mi vida. I respect your choices."
You met his eyes, relieved by his response. "I appreciate that, Javi. I've just had some complicated experiences in the past, and I wanted my first time to be with someone special, someone I really care about." Your hand reached for his cheek, brushing a thumb on his growing facial hair. "I care about you and I want to be with you eventually, I just need a little more time," you assured.
A tender smile spread across Javier's face, and he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'm honored that you've shared this with me. I promise to be patient and to take things at your pace," he murmured, showing his understanding and support.
"Javi," you said, cheeks burning red, as you noticed he was having a tough time trying to conceal his desires. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
Javier chuckled softly, clearly appreciating the humor in the situation. "Yeah, maybe I should," he replied with a lighthearted grin. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere."
You flushed. "Don't worry, I'm not planning an escape."
He disappeared into what looked like his bedroom, and you couldn't help but giggle to yourself. The situation had shifted, but it was comforting to know that Javier respected your boundaries and was willing to take things at a pace that made you comfortable.
A moment later, Javi returned with his hair wet and dressed in sleeping pants and a t-shirt. You realized that you had never seen him like this before: so homely, relaxed, vulnerable, simple.
You couldn't help but smile at the contrast between the fierce DEA agent you knew and the cozy, relaxed man he was right now.  You were used to seeing him in his usual shirts, jeans, and boots for raids, or suits and business shoes for meetings. The man in front of you looked like he had never used a firearm before, like he had never chased a drug dealer. He looked just like an ordinary early-middle-aged man.
As Javier settled down next to you on the couch, he let out a contented sigh. "This feels good," he admitted, looking around his own apartment as if he was appreciating it in a new light.You nodded in agreement, appreciating this intimate moment of vulnerability. It was a side of him you cherished, and it only made you feel closer to him.With a sense of peace, you snuggled up beside Javier on the couch, and you both enjoyed the simple comfort of being together in his cozy apartment, where for a while, the challenges of your lives were left behind.
NEXT CHAPTER
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picturejasper20 · 8 months
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If you have been following me for a while you may have noticed that i really like the ¨hero-villain¨-rival dynamic that Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters have in Danny Phantom. I have made some posts about it and commenting about some of their scenes.
However, one thing i think i have never done is to make a post analysis about the reasons of why i like it so much and it is one of my favourite hero-villain dynamics.
In this post i'm going to go by different points of why i enjoy this dynamic so much and analyse how it works.
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First, one aspect that is crucial of Danny and Vlad's dynamic is how similar they are. They both used to be regular humans until they went through a portal accident that turned them into ghost-human hybrids and, as result, they have to hide their ghost half from other people.
They both used to be/are part of a friend trio with them having a crush on their woman/girl best friend. In Danny's case it is Tucker and Sam. In Vlad's, it used to be Jack and Maddie before the portal accident happened.
The main difference is how they reacted to their portal accidents and how their respective frienships changed after that.
After Danny got transformed into a half ghost, he decided to use his new powers to protect Amity park from other ghosts that went through the Fenton portal. He always does the best he can to help others even if he does makes mistakes.
His friendship with Sam and Tucker remained the same after the accident. He didn't get angry with any of them and didn't push them away. From their part, they accepted Danny for who he was, keeping his ghost identity as a secret and supporting him with any issue that he had to face.
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For Vlad... his accident was quite different since it was caused accidentally by Jack, who was his best friend. This left Vlad hospitalized for many years and having to deal with new ghosts powers by his own. As result he was consumed by desire of revenge of the person he considered his best friend and believing that Jack ¨stole¨ the family that should have been his.
While it isn't clear what happened during those years between Jack, Maddie and Vlad, there are some implications that Jack and Maddie ¨abandoned¨ Vlad and over time they married. It is possible that Vlad may have pushed them away from his part and later became obsessed with making the Fenton family his own.
In contrast to Danny, Vlad used his ghost powers to get more power to fill the void that came from the loneliness he had. He became obsessed with always being control, manipulating and tricking others, out of fear of being left alone and being hurt again.
They both are clearly intended to be foil of each other, with Vlad representing what Danny could have turned into had he followed a darker manipulative path and maybe if he hadn't had the support that he has from his friends and family in the series.
Another aspect i really like is how personal Vlad as antagonist feels, something that was intentional from the writers' part since he was created to act as a sort of an annoying family member that you can't rid of.
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Source: From an old interview of the series Vlad is often referred to as an "uncle" by Danny, usually in a mocking sarcastic way. Maddie and Jack consider him a very close friend (later mainly from Jack) and Jack often goes to Vlad's events to support him.
So, yeah, Vlad is a "very annoying uncle" that Danny has to put up with constanly and can't do much except throw sarcastic remarks when his parents are around.
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In addition to this, Vlad really knows how to get in Danny's mind and provoke him. He knows how to push Phantom's buttons and trick him into doing what he wants. He often teases Danny about how he is becoming like him, usually as a way to mess with him or persuade him into joining him.
One of my favourite exchanges is this is scene from "Reign Storm":
Vlad: Sneak attack, very good, Daniel. You're getting more like me with every battle. Danny: I am nothing like you! Vlad: Oh, you're not? Using your powers to get back at people you don't like? Throwing the first punch? You're more like me than you know.
The thing is that Vlad is right that Danny was using his powers to get back to people he doesn't like and "throwing the first punch". Masters was probably saying this to mess with Danny's head or making him believe that he isn't much different from him, which, to a certain extent, is true.
Another example of this is in "Bitter Reunions" when Danny tricks Vlad into making a truce with him if he doesn't want others to find out that he is half ghost. He uses this opportunity to see this as a "small win" since he "teached" something to Danny.
Vlad: Using your opponent's weaknesses against him. I am teaching you something after all.
This idea of feeling ¨personal¨ or knowing how to push the protagonist buttons is something that i wished to see more in antagonists from other series. It makes them more entertaining to watch. On third point, it is what Vlad's goals are in relation to Danny. In contrast to main antagonists you see in other animated shows, Vlad isn't out to destroy Danny. On the contrary: He wants Danny to be his son.
This comes from two things: One, thinking that Danny is the family that should have been his and was "stolen" by Jack after the ghost portal accident back in his college years. Second, from the extreme loneliness he lives in and the desire to have someone else who is just like him, a half human-half ghost, that being one of the main reasons he finds himself so lonely all the time.
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Many of Vlad's episodes involve him trying to make Danny his pupil/son in some way, either by provoking him, manipulating him or trying to break the relationships he has with his family. It's one of Vlad's biggest obsessions in the show.
It goes to such extreme methods that he starts a project to clone Danny. Something that takes him months and multiple attempts of watching clones disintegrate over and over again. This is explored in the episode "Kindred Spirits" where Danny finds out about this project, befriends Danielle -one of the clones- and destroys the whole lab.
Now, one thing that is interesting of all this is because Vlad has this obsession of making Danny his pupil/son, he has an emotional attachment to Danny, in the sense that he has a desire to protect him and help him if the boy is in trouble. Just like father takes care of his son.
This is more of a fanon aspect that is more explored in fanfics than in canon. However, there are some examples of this in the series,some being more clear than others.
The biggest one of this is in the alternative timeline from "The Ultimate Enemy" where Danny's friends and family die, Vlad takes care of him and decides to help Danny get rid of his ghost half to make him feel less miserable. Future Vlad also kept Danny's school bag intact for years even after that version of Danny transformed into Dan.
Another more subtle one is Vlad bringing a knocked out Danny back from the Ghost King's castle near the end of Reign Storm ( which was also to get on Jack and Maddie's good side).
There is also how Vlad rarely tries to go all out with his ghost powers against Danny and the implications that he could have got rid of the teen any time he wanted to in the show but he didn't.
Many fanfics involve Vlad saving Danny or protecting him from some powerful ghost enemy. This usually leads to the two characters working together to fight against said enemy. Other fanfics explore the idea of Danny getting scared/accidentally hurt by his parents when they find out that he is Phantom and him choosing to stay with Vlad until they both find a solution to the situation.
These fanfics potray Vlad as a bit more of morally grey character in contrast to the main series. Often while working together, both Danny and Vlad come to understand each other better and the story ends with them making a truce or Vlad starting a redemption arc.
In A Glitch in Time graphic novel, which is inspired by Danny Phantom fanon up to a point, has Vlad helping and protecting Danny in more than one occasion during the battle against Dan. They later fight together and are able to defeat Dan, separating him from Clockwork.
On last point, that has to do with the previous point, it is that there is a bit of tragedy in their relationship. The two are the only ghost-human hybrids in existence (If you don't count Danielle and Dan, the later being a fusion of Vlad and Danny). The two would benefit from helping and supporting each other, specially Vlad having more experience could teach Danny how to control his powers and guide him in cases he doesn't understand what is happening to him.
But, due to both clashing with their goals and Vlad not being able to let go of his past, they become bitter enemies in the series. They are constanly at each other's throats, with Vlad always coming up with some plan that involves manipulating the Fentons or leaving the city of Amity Park in danger.
In spite of this, after the events of ¨A Glitch in Time¨, they seem to be in better terms, with Vlad trying to make amends for all his past misdeeds and the chance of becoming somewhat allies in a near future.
To sum up: These are the main reasons i really like Danny and Vlad's rivarly in Danny Phantom. I like how complex it is and that it has different sides to it. In that regard it stands out to me from other hero-villain dynamics and it makes it one of my favourites.
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Rehearsing - Todd Anderson / Neil Perry
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Description: It's raining, Todd is almost falling asleep, and Neil is reading his lines for his next play for the millionth time. [Fluff, 600 words]
It's canon that Todd helps Neil with practicing for his plays, so I wanted to write one these times in a warm/soft vibe. Wrote this one purely for comfort. Might write more fics like this. Just small moments of their lifes y'know. Feel free to make requests if you have any idea. Anyway, hope you enjoy it <3
Neil was rehearsing lines for his next play, again.
Todd could swear he knew all those lines back and forth by now. He didn't complain though, it was always nice to help with rehearsing. There was something special in seeing Neil this genuinely happy and excited with something. His happiness was contagious in a way.
"Parting is such a sweet sorrow..." He stamped his feet on the floor as he read the lines, something he always did whenever he was too excited or anxious.
"...that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow" Todd completed in his head, without saying anything. Sometimes, he would help by saying another's character's lines, so Neil could practice dialogues how they are. But for the most part, his "helping" was pretty much just keeping him company, listening to the lines and correcting him if needed.
If it wasn't raining, they would've done this outside. Next to the lake, probably. It's where they usually go. Not that it was all that bad staying inside for once. Todd was tired and their room could be small, but it could also be very cozy. The sound of the rain, slightly muffled by the window, just added to the feeling.
The clock showed 11:02. "It's not that late" Todd thought as he yawned, "There's still time to rehearse this scene at least five more times".
Outside it was already very dark, and the rain made it even harder to see anything. Todd watched as the drops of water on the window fell. Hugging his knees and leaned against the wall as he listened to Romeo and Juliet attentively, as if he hadn't already millions of times.
"Todd?"
"Hm?" He looked at his friend. His eyes obviously sleepy, while Neil's were wide awake.
"We can do this tomorrow if you're too tired," He suggested.
"No, there's no need to"
"You look like you'll fall asleep any second now" That was probably true. "I'm sure I can manage on my own"
"I know you can," Todd laid down, keeping his eyes open. He wasn't quite sure why he cared so much. He could simply go to sleep and let Neil keep practicing on his own, but for some reason he wanted to be awake with him. Everything felt so nice to just sleep it through.
Neil looked at him for a few moments, then got up from the desk he was sitting at. "Move over"
Todd sat up with a groan, giving space for Neil to sit next to him. After that, Neil lightly pulled him down, so Todd's head was laying on his lap.
"Hm?" His tone could be interpreted as either confusion or exhaustion. Or both of them.
"Sleep. I'll keep rehearsing" Neil said softly. And he did go back to what he was doing, repeating the lines quieter this time.
Todd took a few moments to process what he said and how comfortable he was. He let out a content sigh as he gave in to the tiredness.
He took one last glance at the actor close to him before closing his eyes. Neil's smile was so bright and Todd couldn't help but smile too as he tried to focus on Romeo and Juliet coming from the sweetest voice he had ever heard. The warm atmosphere making him even more comfortable and everything simply felt a bit better.
And as Neil's hands gently stroked his hair, soothing him, Todd started to fall asleep.
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We have our winner!!
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Soundwave put up a pretty good fight though, Bee and Swindle also had a pretty strong showing! Thinking those three should definitely get some fics of their own too!
I went with something sort of silly because there's not nearly enough pining Megatron or Dorothy Malto content out there.
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"Megs?"
For all of his boundless courage, Megatron couldn't help but feel a burst of terror when he was startled from his pleasant yet absentminded staring. Averting his optics straight away, he looked down at his side to find Dorothy Malto standing on the raised patch of land he'd chosen for a seat. Wearing casual clothes befitting of their shared day off-duty, her eyes sparkled with something more than mere enjoyment of the beautiful sunny weather. "What's got you so happy?"
Clearing his vents as casually as he could, the flustered mech tried to pretend everything was normal, thinking over his words carefully as he turned back to the scene he definitely hadn't been staring at previously. The young Terrans were all gathered behind the Malto family barn in a loose circle around the only other human present, you. Though too far away to hear what was being said, he could see you were just about done patching up the tiny cut Twitch had earned while the bots had been goofing off, and he knew from experience you were undoubtedly giving her a gentle reminder to be more careful in the future. Seeing such tender care for the little drone made a smile tug on his reluctant lips.
"It is… nice, to have another GHOST agent we can rely on." he answered diplomatically, not acknowledging the host of complex emotions that always rose up in his spark when he spoke of you.
"Mhmm." Dorothy replied with her same smile, following his gaze just as you finished up your patchwork. Twitch tested out the previously injured limb with clear delight, expressing her emphatic gratitude with a transformation and a zip about the sky that brought a chuckle from all present, including the two veterans. "Dr. Y/N is the only one I'd trust with my babies. They've kept every last visit secret, and they'll pop over no matter how small the issue is. The kids just love them."
"I can tell." he agreed with another chuckle as he watched you tenderly insist that the young Terran be mindful of her safety. He knew from experience the request would go unheeded, as young Cybertronians had the same danger defying habits as human youth, but your compassionate efforts made that complex surge of emotions in his spark rise up again. Ignoring it as usual, he tried to explain himself when he saw Dorothy had yet to drop her accursed grin. "Many humans have a… justifiable hesitation around Cybertronians, yet they treat us no differently than their human patients. I cannot begin to express my appreciation for their work."
There was a small sound from the woman he initially interpreted as a welcome dropping of the subject, but the moment his optics drifted back to you her words cut right through his defenses.
"Is that… all you appreciate about them?"
Expression briefly betraying his flustered mortification, he just managed to sound more frustrated than rattled. "What are you implying, Dorothy?"
"Oh, nothing." she replied, obviously fake indifference putting him on immediate edge. Dorothy had long since learned to read him like a book, far more intuitively than he could even read his own emotions, and he knew she was not the type to ever give up. Still, he wasn't at all prepared for her boldness when she finally spoke up, grinning from ear to ear as she did so. "Just that you've been doing a great deal of appreciating with your eyes."
Unable to stop himself from sputtering at the absolutely absurd and not at all true observation, he frantically looked your way to ensure you were still occupied with the Terrans before he replied in a forceful whisper.
"You are mistaken."
She actually laughed, looking beyond amused by the thirty foot warrior struggling with the crush he would deny under pain of literal death. Patting his side playfully, she gave him a wink that sent a blush blooming across his cheeks. "Don't worry, I won't tell."
"There's nothing to tell." he replied in a rush, looking back to you only so he could confirm you had not overhead any of their conversation. By the rare grace of the universe you obviously had not, as you were now in the middle of a very enthralled ring of Terrans and recounting stories of your more interesting assignments to keep them occupied. Once more those accursed feelings rose up in his spark, and he didn't have it in him to deny the warmth he felt every time he laid his optics on you. Seeing your tiny human form surrounded by the towering young bots that you treated with all the compassion and patience of human children simply overwhelmed his defenses.
Thankfully, Dorothy seemed to be willing to let the matter drop at that, and she offered only a playful parting tease as she turned to walk back to the house.
"Sure there's not."
He considered grumbling some kind of further denial, but didn't have it in him to be upset when you made the group laugh and did the same, your beaming smile giving him one of his own.
Dorothy pulled out her phone and turned back after only a few steps, going completely unnoticed by the lovestruck mech until she spoke up one final time. 
"I can get you their number."
Megatron could have combusted on the spot, and he could only try to hide his blush behind his palm as it surged across his entire faceplate.
"Dorothy!"
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