#does it count as spoilers if i'm just fucking around

[httpsserene]

Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words

Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!

secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.

to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!

i hope you all like this episode xxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.

“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.

“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.

“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”

A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.

“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”

“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication. 

“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”

You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.

Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”

It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again. 

You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations. 

You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex. 

The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt. 

And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt. 

He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly. 

You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more. 

On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand. 

You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off. 

Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.

In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).

Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline. 

Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed. 

You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.” 

The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.

It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.

It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.

“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”

Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”

You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”

Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with. 

Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.

That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.

You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them

down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.

You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.

You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.

You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.

It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).

“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”

You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.

You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.

“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”

You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”

“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”

You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.

“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”

You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.

Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down. 

Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him. 

“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon

© httpsserene 2023

#serene’s chapters. #httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x black!reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

[yuureitheghost]

New headcanon just dropped

Collin is Sergei Ushanka from Binary

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #collin becher #tmagp spoilers #does it count as spoilers if i'm just fucking around #samama khalid #alice dyer

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

[lovingache]

"𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐞"

summary: just some oikawa fluff tbh <3 these are just cute little headcanons i wanted to write down because it wouldn't leave my brain. smitten!oikawa x nerdy!gn!reader (also ik i have so many fics to finish im so sorry i'm literally playing volleyball and hiking every single week in between work and everything else! i will get to it all i promise!) warnings: minor spoilers for oikawa’s time skip word count: 1.0k words

was listening to so high school by taylor swift thinking of smitten!oikawa x nerdy!reader because of the line "you know how to ball, i know aristotle" and i'm just <3333

smitten!oikawa who would attend all of your debates, mathlete competitions, essay readings, poetry slams, whatever it was that you were doing for your thousandth extra curricular in between uni classes, he is SAT. whether there are 10 people in attendance or 100, he makes sure to show up for you as excited and supportive as you are for his volleyball games.

he thinks you're the cutest when you're in the zone, chewing on that adorable bottom lip he loves to nip at when kissing you while you think. he makes sure to tell people loudly that you're with him, that he's your boyfriend, and that you're the smartest person he's ever met.

one time, he showed up with noise makers for a debate and you had to stifle a laugh every time he hollered your name while using the teal-coloured clappers he'd kept from his high school volleyball days to make sure you could hear him over the large audience. his face, determined to cheer you on as he stood, all 6 feet of him towering over the audience of stuffy academics, was on full display as he wore a headband that had your name on it. it didn't matter to him if everyone else thought he was doing too much, all that mattered was your toothy grin as you bit back your laugh— relaxing under the mounting pressure of the stage lights as you come up to debate the final topic of the night. he rushes up to you immediately after your univerisity's named the winner, hugging you and cradling you against him as if you'd run a triathlon, cupping your face to give you a tender kiss as he celebrates you.

smitten!oikawa who thinks the world of you and finds any reason to come over to your dorm after volleyball practice to "study" (he just wants an excuse to be around you and kiss you until your lips are swollen)— "sorry, baby! you just look so hot when you're concentrating, you bite your lip and everything and, fuck, does this reading reealllyy need to be done by tonight?"

smitten!oikawa who'll sneak you into the volleyball courts after practice just to show you what he's working on, practicing there for hours or until you two get caught while you work on your assignments. he just loves having you around there, it makes him feel more at home in a space that can often feel combative for him, whether he's teaching you the basics of volleyball so you can hit them back and forth with him or you're doing your readings on the court as he practices serves. the grin he has widens when you tell him one day that listening to his footsteps as he practices helps you concentrate, and he promises to sneak you in even more. smitten!oikawa who loves that you know what to do if he ever has an injury, calling you all sorts of nicknames like "my cute nurse" or "my pretty doc" while you snort at his giddiness at having your hands on him.

smitten!oikawa who knows at this point which exact floor, room, and table you're at in the library at any given hour. always excited to bound over, sometimes dragging iwa with him, just to drop off your favourite drink and watch you study for a little until iwa tells him off for being a weirdo. "i'm not being a weirdo! i'm admiring my lovely, adorable, smart—" he's cut off by iwa saying goodbye to you as he drags toru off to practice lest they be late again because your boyfriend is wrapped around your finger.

smitten!oikawa who will use any excuse to ask you about something he's curious about. loving how you almost always seem to know what he's talking about or, if you don't, how easily you admit your lack of knowledge in that area, offering to help him look things up to satiate his curiosity. smitten!oikawa who loves to do this around people just so he can wrap his arm over your shoulders, grinning and bragging about how smart you are. smitten!oikawa who can't read anything without asking you a question just to get your attention on him for even a second, who will ask for a random fact, for help on a crossword puzzle, for the correct spelling of something— going so far as to call you for the most minute things that you know he knows but he can't help it. he just loves hearing your voice.

smitten!oikawa who gets all pouty and whiny whenever you have to leave his place early to tutor first years because you're a TA— "you should be tutoring me instead!" who rolls his eyes and huffs when you giggle at his whininess and only relents to let you go from his grasp when you promise him that you'll be back early and you two can go on a date, no distractions, no tutoring, just you two. who will grin and kiss you hard at the promise, his hand cradling the back of your neck firmly so he can get his fill of you.

smitten!oikawa who surprises you at your graduation despite having left for Argentina a month ago with a massive bouquet of flowers for you and an even bigger smile on his face as he hollers your name while you cross the stage. oikawa who savours the shock and delight on your face, the slight blush at the unexpected visit from him, and the tears in your eyes when you realize he'd made sure to book the day off just to watch you walk the stage— missing a game, something he swore he'd never do. oikawa who envelops you easily in his arms as you run to him, lifting you with an ease you've only ever known from him as you giggle into his hair. who kisses you tenderly, brushing stray hair from your face, fixing your cap as he moves your tassle over to the correct side, and murmurs, "congratulations, baby. wouldn't have missed it for the world. you kidding me? my beautiful, smart, darling is getting a stadium of people clapping and cheering for them for being the smartest person here and you think i'm gonna miss that for anything?"

#haikyuu x reader #my writing #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu oikawa #hq #hq oikawa #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq x gender neutral reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu!! oikawa #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa haikyu #oikawa toru #oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa x gender netural reader #oikawa x gn!reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #smitten!oikawa #nerdy!reader

[jake-g-lockley]

Sin Without Limits (Javier Peña x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

*gif not mine*

Warnings: MDNI, Narcos Season 2 and 3 spoilers, canon-usual violence, unhinged behaviour from Agent Peña and reader, unprotected p in v sex, choking, spanking (?), oral (m and f receiving), knife play (if you squint), overstimulation, angst, swearing 

A/N: bruh I just cleaned this one up and I'm appalled at what I have written but enjoy. I’ve written a secondary plot (and changed some sequence) to what happened at the end of season two heh

Word count: 7.7 k (wtf)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You trained your gaze on him as you leaned your entire weight onto the truck. You watched him pace and scan the officers before him, his hand clenching and unclenching as he tried to stim his anxiety away. Watching a DEA Agent act skittish is not always the best thing in your books.

You felt your breath quickening slightly as Steve slapped his back and beckoned you to join them. You jogged to keep up with them as they jumped into a truck. You turn in the front seat to look at him. The eye contact he made with you for a millisecond told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña looked absolutely terrified. 

“...armed men…”

“Checkpoint…”

You caught a few words of what Steve was trying to tell the both of you and you realized that your suspicions that you had been having for the past few days are slowly unfolding to show you a harsh reality, a reality that you were not ready to admit to. You watch from the truck as Javier convinced the men to lower their weapons, after Steve’s failed attempt. The way you could pin-point the shiver in Javier’s hands even from a distance made you curse yourself for being so aware. You watch his hands curl up to clutch the collar of his bullet-proof vest, as he spoke to Steve, the one constant tell that you could pull from him and your heart broke under the pressure that your brain was putting you through. 

You masked the heart wrenching pain that you were going through until Steve left the office. It was just you and Javier, like how it had been for the past few months, working late, going home to nothing but the empty shells. You hadn’t even noticed you were staring at him until he called your name. 

“Everything good, mariposa?” He said, squinting through his cigarette smoke. 

You had to confront him, this was your only chance. You nod and try to find the right words.

“Just wondering how Los Pepes always manage to get there before we can.” you say softly, picking at a hangnail on your finger. 

You catch Javier shrugging on your peripheral and decide your next best move.

“What if there's someone here who’s telling them what to do?” you said, locking your eyes with him. 

“Well, a rat wouldn’t be surprising to me, that's how this world works, mariposa.” he huffed, setting down his cigarette and rubbing his face with his hands. 

“Hmm.” you got up and pushed Javier’s chair away from his desk, perching above it as you stared down at him. “Javs?” 

He looks up at you, but his eyes don't find yours, settling to look past them.

“Look at me.” you whispered, tracing his jaw with your fingers.

“I am.”

“No, look at me properly, Javs, or I swear to god-”

He does, and that gives you all the confirmation you need.

“You’re fucking around with Los Pepes, aren’t you?” you murmur, your eyes wide with fear. 

Javier nods slowly as he looks away from you. You gasp softly as a tear runs down your cheek. You slid off his desk and turned away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Marip-”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Javier?!” you scream before he could continue. “And don’t fucking call me that.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m handling it.” he said getting up from his seat and walking towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed, that I can fucking assure you. Those assholes are killing innocent people in their quest to take down Escobar, you know? People who don’t deserve to fucking die, Javier.” you said, shaking his hand off you. “Their blood will be on your fucking hands.”

Suddenly, you found yourself being slammed into a nearby wall. Javier was towering over you, a glowering look etched upon his face. 

“I need you to shut that pretty mouth of yours. We all are working towards one goal, don’t you dare blame me for trying out my last option.” he snarled. “Anyway, what the fuck can you even do about it, report me?”

You stared up at him, your gaze hardened and unfaltering.

“What if I did? You’re gonna go down their fucked up root, Javier? Hmm? Go on, kill me then for knowing your little secret.” you mocked him, straightening your back and standing a little taller. 

Javier’s breath hitched a little but he didn’t budge.

“They are going to use you like the whore you are and then when they’re done with you, they’re gonna put a bullet through this thick skull of yours and leave you all fucked out.” you spat. 

The next thing you know, Javier’s hand was around your throat as he flattened you against the wall with his entire body weight. He wasn’t squeezing you, but a rush of panic settled in the pit of your stomach as you stared into the raging fire in his eyes. He moved forward until his face was next to yours as your hand reached up to grab at his.

“Want me to show you what a whore can do?” his lips grazed the shell of your ear as your breath quickened. 

He brought his face in front of yours until the both of you were nose to nose. You could see every tiny detail on his face and if he got any closer his lips would be on yours. You contemplated making the first move as Javier’s fingers flexed at your throat, pushing a whole flow of arousal straight down between your legs. A part of you almost forgot why he had you pinned against the wall, and it made you a little afraid by the way he was taking you apart just with one swift move. 

The sound of the phone ringing brought Javier out of his trance and he immediately let go of you. You immediately hurry away from him and grab your jacket, not even turning to look back at him as adrenalin pushes you to jog out of the office. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Javier kept his aviators on inside as he squinted at the work he was doing. He could clearly remember what he had done to you but could only vaguely remember what happened after that. He had drowned himself in whatever liquor he could find lying around and stumbled into the office in the morning with an almighty hangover that could rival the power of two colossal giants fighting. He obviously felt awful about how he treated you yesterday and dreaded leaving his apartment in the morning. Steve gave him an understanding pat on the back, handing him a painkiller which Javi took gingerly and accidentally made eye contact with you. 

You instinctively looked away from him, his warning from last night ringing loud and clear in your head when you slyly glanced at the wall that he had pinned you to. In a weird turn of events, you still couldn’t decide whether you were scared or turned on by his threat. Although, you do have to admit that calling him a whore was a little over the top, despite all of the picturesque rumours you had heard about him. Being the only woman on the team meant that you had to deal with questioning individuals from the red-light district and that ultimately gave you a clear idea of what Javier Peña’s sex life sounded like and you hated yourself that you were slightly intrigued. Your thoughts were interrupted again when Javier slid a tiny piece of paper in front of you and walked away. You raised an eyebrow at his retreating figure as you grabbed the note.

Mens. Stall five. Now.

You were still pissed at the way he was engaging with Los Pepes. Javier is practically giving them full leeway to do whatever they please, but if he seems to think that if that's the way they are going to get to Escobar, then so be it. Besides, you’d like to see how this plan of his plays out, despite the part of you that is scared shitless about the consequences that he might face after this ordeal. 

You rolled your eyes and got up only to be stopped by your boss. You froze and crumpled the paper in your hand, stuffing it into your pocket as fast and discreetly as possible. 

“Agent, how are things?” she asks, staring you down with her usual demeanour.

“All good, boss.” you feigned a smile as your eyes end up landing on that good awful wall again, making your eye twitch slightly. 

“Good, good. I expect to see you at the party tonight.” Messina says, catching you off guard. 

“Hmm?” 

“You know the state party?” 

The fucking state party. You almost forgot that you were invited entirely. Who in their right mind holds a party in the middle of a narco war? 

“Yea, of course, I’ll be there.” You said beaming at Messina.

Sure, you had nothing to wear but whatever to please Messina, you’ll figure something out soon. 

“I’ll see you there then.” You nodded quickly at your boss and quickly walked to the mens as soon as she was out of your sight. 

As soon as you opened the door to stall five, Javier used his brute strength to pull you in, making you collide with his chest. 

“Ouch, man, I have legs, I can invite myself in.” you groaned, rubbing your forehead. 

He sits you down on the closed toilet bowl and kneels down in front of you, his eyes coated in exhaustion as he gazes up at you. 

“Lo siento, mariposa.” he murmured, taking your hand in his. 

“For pulling me into the stall or for working wit-” Javier cuts you off by pressing a hand to your lips.

“For everything.” Javier drops his hand and tugs at your collar, exposing your neck.

His fingers softly trace the skin of your neck as he examines you and you felt slightly frozen by the way he was touching you. To think that those hands were capable of killing a man and having those hands so close to a vulnerable spot caused a shiver to run down your spine. 

“I don’t bruise easily, Javs, if that's what you’re so worried about.” you whispered, bringing your own hand to meet his. 

“Lo-”

“Say that you’re sorry again and I’ll kick you in the dick and walk out. I think you know that if I wanted to disarm you yesterday, I could have. I have work to do dumbass, so what's up?” you rushed through your words, noting how Javier’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“I need your help.” Javier says after a moment of silence.

You nodded him along and he gulped, his eyes downcast at your shoes. 

“I heard from my CI that there is going to be a person at the state party that's going to be the key for some information that I need.” He whispers. “I need you to help me get that information.”

“And is this information for us, or for Los Pepes?” you say, curling a finger under Javier's chin and tipping his head so that you can catch him if he tries to lie.

“For us.” he said, holding your gaze tightly.

“Why aren’t you asking Murphy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously because you already know about it, you know?” he hissed and you grinned back at him.

“Hmm, okay.” you hum, surprising Javier.

“That’s it? Man, I thought I had to pull up some waterworks to convince you.” Javier chuckled nervously, rubbing his collarbone.

“Honestly, I’d do anything to get away from Messina at this point. I’m the newest recruit here, she's gonna make me socialise.” you pulled a face, making Javier smile. “Besides, now I’m more valuable to you than Steve.”

“That's my mariposa.” you roll your eyes at his excessive use of the endearing word.

Secretly, you loved it. Mariposa, or “butterfly” sounded a little too close to mi esposa, or “my wife” and it tingles your insides everytime Javier would call you that. Yet, you always find yourself pushing away the thought of having a nice domestic life with Javier the second he does something reckless and stupid. Sometimes you wonder whether he bribed his way through this job because of how dumb he can be. 

Javier stands up and pulls you up with him but in that moment the both of you hear the door open. Javier quickly sits back down and taps his thighs, gesturing for you to sit and hide your legs. Your eyes widen as the footsteps get closer to the stall and you silently hook your legs over him and straddle his lap. 

“Peña? You in there, man?” Steve’s voice floated through the cracks in the stall’s door. 

It was hard to calm your breathing with the way you had slotted your face in Javier’s neck, breathing in a slight hint of aftershave, smokey goodness and clean skin. You poked him for an answer.

“Uh, yea dude, I’m here.” he croaked out, his voice a little strained, probably from the way you were clinging onto him for dear life. 

“Come on man, you’re taking a shit at work?” Steve groaned and your body shook as you strained hard to keep the laughter in. 

Poor Steve, what a naive man.

“What the hell do you want Steve?” Javier pressed, pulling you closer to stop you from bursting out into laughter.

It must have worked because when Javier pulled you closer, his thigh hit something so devastatingly amazing that you felt yourself being rendered into a shocked silence.  

“Hurry up, there’s a meeting we gotta go to. And remember to wash your hands, you filthy fuck!” Steve chortled as he walked out of the mens.

You and Javier waited with baited breath for a few seconds before you brought your face out of the crook of Javier’s neck.

“He didn’t see you walking in he- wait are you okay?” Javier caught the flush look on your face as you turned to look at him.

You blink twice at Javier’s beautiful face before nodding your head vigorously. He hadn’t even touched you and you slowly felt yourself being pulled apart by him. Javier didn’t look convinced but he shrugged it off as he helped you get off from his lap. 

“Aight, I will see you later at the state party?” He said, steadying you.

“Yep.” you mumbled, giving him a tight lipped smile as he exited the stall. 

When you were sure he had left, you exhaled the breath you were holding and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

Today was going to be a long one.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Javier nervously checked his watch for the billionth time. You were late. You were always never late, always clocking in earlier than him. He couldn’t deny that he was trying hard to hide how nervous he felt. He never wanted to bring you into this, but he always had a feeling that you were going to somehow find out anyway. The disappointment he felt was indescribable, he hated himself for being too obvious. 

He adjusted his mask again, uncomfortable with the way it was cutting at the soft skin covering the back of his ears. His eyes searched in the sea of masks, hoping that they would land on yours. The dim lighting made it hard to see through the masquerade themed party and Javier strained hard, willing for you to appear. 

Suddenly, a beautiful figure steps into his line of sight. Javier couldn’t take his eyes off the figure, watching them sway as their dress hugged them tightly in all the right places, clinging to every curve. The figure walked closer and closer to him until they were in front of him. A long slit exposed a holster that was disguised as a garterbelt, definitely carrying a concealed weapon. Javier instantly recognised your eyes and pushed the mask away to reveal your heavenly face. He stares in disbelief, he had been used to seeing you in suits and minimalistic makeup, and he was ashamed to think that he hadn’t expected this. He felt a rush, a similar rush that he had felt the night before as he scanned your face. 

“You look good, dolled up like this.” he murmured, pushing your mask back on. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” you really had toned down your initial compliment, he looked like a prince, the way his hair was styled and the way the tux complemented his beautiful broad shoulders. 

He offers you his hand and when you take it, he leads the way into a small closet. He clips a microphone to your neckline and you help him thread the wire through your dress. Javier was quite literally smitten by the way you looked. He resisted the urge to run his hands down your curves and he tried to rid his mind from remembering the way your body had been pressed up against him before. He sighs and kneels down, looking up at you.

“Can I?” he said, gesturing at the transponder and your thigh.

You nod and watch as he gently pulls the slit in your dress aside to hook the tiny transponder onto your holster. His other hand steadied himself by gripping your thigh and you felt like you were going to melt in his grip. A tremor ran through your body and it didn't go unnoticed by Javier. He smiled to himself and purposely tried to let his touch linger, sliding his fingers slowly across your soft skin, savouring the feeling of you. Your breathing gets slightly heavier but you let him do as he pleased. 

When he finally hooked the transponder and slowly got up, the eye contact he was making with you sent an army of butterflies to violently collide with your stomach. You could literally cut the thick atmosphere with the knife you had on you as Javier held your gaze like it was his last lifeline. His eyes were slightly hooded and he looked as if he was about to say something when you broke eye contact with him and let your eyes drop to his lips. Before the both of you could do or say anything, the sound of footsteps snapped you out of your haze.

“Alright, the floor is yours, take it away.” Javier cleared his throat, nodding towards the door. 

He handed you a key, the key that he booked under a pseudonym so that you could interrogate the intended target away from the prying eyes of people. You took it and slipped it onto your tiny purse, your mind racing. You swallow and nod, hoping your guise was enough to mask you from the people you were going to eavesdrop and enough to mask the lust that was blooming for Javier Peña. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You let Javier lead you through the sea of masks, as he searched for his intended target. You felt out of place, watching people dance while you followed him around to do his bidding. 

“Javs?” you whisper, pulling him closer to you

“Hmm?” he turned to look at you.

“Dance with me.” 

“But-” 

“I said, dance with me, I have a plan.” you said firmly, pulling his hand to settle it onto your waist. 

He stares at you for a second and again you feel as if the whole world has stopped around you. You found yourself craving for his attention, to feel his hands on you again and only then you could think on how to make the next move. He readjusted his hand that was at your waist and held you firmer, his confidence radiating out of him as he laced his free hand with yours. You tried to refrain from savouring the feeling of your hand on his tough shoulder but you slowly felt yourself being lost to him as he started to lead the both of you into a slow dance. 

You straightened your back and kept your eyes trained on Javier only looking past him when you judged it was safe. You spotted your prey, a lawyer who was known to make deals with the cartels. You tapped Javier twice on his shoulder and he turned the both of you around, immediately spotting the lawyer from where the both of you were standing. You could feel his grip tightening slightly as he pulled you closer to him, your arm trapped between your two bodies. 

You were so close to Javier’s jaw, surveying its sharp edge as he gritted his teeth. It was perfectly sculptured as if an artist had taken a chisel to it. Before you could think twice, you pressed your lips to his jaw, leaving a light imprint of red lipstick. The tip of your nose dug into his cheek, and when you breathed in you could smell the delicious scent of his aftershave, intoxicating you and driving you to do what you need. Javier’s grip loosened and you pulled yourself away from him to walk towards the lawyer, turning to wink at the stunned Javier as you parted the sea of disguised individuals, your lipstick stain staining like a work of art on the canvas that is his beautiful face. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It didn’t take long for Javier to find another woman to dance with. He kept a watchful eye on you, but willed to keep his distance. He continued to grit his teeth and lock his jaw to contain every ounce of violence that was trying to emit out of him as he watched the dirty lawyer run a finger up your bare arm. He tried not to push the woman he was dancing with aside as the lawyer suddenly grabbed you and pulled you flush against his body. Javier could hear your giggle and it made his blood boil hot watching you being touched like that. His eyes followed you as you led the lawyer to the room, partially glad that his plan was unfolding. 

When Javier got to the outside of the room, he held his gun in front of him in his usual defensive stance, hoping that you had enough in you to overpower the lawyer. He heard a thud and he immediately swung the door open and found you standing over the lawyer, the sharp edge of your high heel pressed firmly where his sternum was. You smirked as you crouched low, putting all of your weight onto the foot that was atop the lawyer’s chest. You smoothly pulled out your blade from your holster and mockingly shushed the lawyer as he screamed while you made a spectacle of cleaning the blade. 

You could feel Javier’s eyes on you but you didn’t acknowledge his presence. You could tell that he was undoubtedly staring at you while you blatantly flirted with the lawyer on the dance floor. You wanted Javier to feel the anger, to know that you were risking almost everything for him. You hold the blade at the lawyer's throat and smile innocently at him.

“My informants have given me a tip that you have been in contact with a certain important sicario. Tell me where La Quiqa is hiding and I’ll think of sparing your measly life.” you hiss in Spanish, pressing the blade slightly harder. 

Blood beaded at the edge of your knife and you raised your eyebrow amusedly as the man below you whimpered and begged for his life. He turned to Javier and started to beg him instead and you rolled your eyes at the man and slapped the lawyer.

“Don’t you dare think for a second that I am more patient than my partner here. I’ll slit your throat open before you can feel the bullet passing through your skull.” you continued to jeer. 

“Okay fine! I’ll tell you where La Quiqa is!” the lawyer screamed. 

You kept your heel planted firmly against the lawyer’s chest as Javier rang Steve. The second the information was passed across, you stepped off the lawyer and he scrambled away from you. Javier caught him by the collar and pulled him up. 

“You do not breathe a word about this to a single person, or I swear to god, I'll unload this gun in your mouth.” he sneered before pushing the man out of the room.

Once he was gone, you perched onto the edge of the bed. 

“Won’t he go and warn La Quiqa?” you question.

Javier stayed silent for a while. He then suddenly walked towards you and got onto his knees, removing your high heels from your feet and setting them aside. He had already given Los Pepes the information that the lawyer would be outside of the hotel within seconds. He made a deal that the police force gets to arrest La Quiqa while Los Pepes can extract information from the lawyer, which was a win in his books. 

“He won’t get far.” was all that he said as he looked up at you, his hand massaging your calf. 

You lean forward and take his face in your hands. One of your hands fan out and you stroke his cheek, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. He wrenched them open again almost as if he didn’t want to lose sight of you. His hand at your calf reached out to grab your arm and he slowly started to rub your skin. You knew he was trying to erase the lawyer’s touch off you and you smiled at the gesture.

“What?” you question, reading his eyes, knowing he had something to say.

“I can’t stand it.” he whispered.

“Stand what?”

“The way he had his hands on you.” Javier’s hands were shaking now and you could see a fire raging in his dark brown eyes. 

“Javs, we just needed the infor-”

“I don’t like it when people touch what is mine.” he growled slightly, making your heart leap to your throat. 

“I’m not-”

“You are.” he confirmed firmly, his chest heaving now with shallow puffs of his breath. 

“Then, show me how I’m yours.” you sighed, your lungs constricting your last bit of oxygen. 

Javier stands up, and you could tell that there was a shift in his demeanour at your words as he gazes down at you. He towers over you, looking absolutely dazzling under the dim lighting.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” 

“Of course I am.” you say a little too quickly for your liking. 

“Kneel.” He says, his voice edging lower, sending an array of goosebumps at the nape of your neck as your vision blurred slightly. 

But you kept your chin up and knelt between his feet. 

“What? Not gonna kiss me first, Peña?” You smirked, knowing that you were pushing his buttons. “Too used to fucking whores?” 

He smoothed out the hair that fluttered to your forehead, running his fingers through your locks until he got to the nape of your neck. Suddenly, his hand grabs you by your hair and your eyes widen. He tips his head to the side and surveys the look on your face. 

“No, I’m gonna fuck you like the teasing brat you are. I’ll only kiss you when I know you’ve learnt your lesson.” He gives you a smug smile. 

His hand loosened its hard grip, leaving a delicious stinging sensation at your scalp. His fingers trailed to your lips, tapping them.

“Open, mariposa.” you were positive that he knew how that nickname made you feel and your jaw automatically dropped open. 

“So she does follow instructions.” he said pointedly before leaning over and spitting in your mouth. 

You knew from that second that the man before you was not going to let you off easy and a small voice at the back of your head was giggling gleefully at the prospect of your night. You closed your mouth and swallowed, only to open it up right away, making Javier nod in appreciation. You edge closer, placing your hands on his legs.

“Go on, take what you need.” you were already running your hand up his thigh before he could finish his sentence. 

You cup his hardened bulge and he hisses, but surprisingly lets you have your way. Your fingers shake slightly as you undo his slacks, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing that he had in fact gone commando. You would have rolled your eyes if you didn’t take note of how big he was. Your sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed by Javier and he watched as you shifted your weight from one knee to the other slightly nervously. 

“Like what you see?” he questioned smugly. 

You couldn’t let him know you were anywhere close to backing out, you wanted this as much as he did. You spit on your hand and grab his length, pumping him from base to tip, letting your thumb graze his tip only to watch him writhe slightly. 

“I’ve seen better.” you smirked back, looking up at him from under your lashes.

Before he could form a retort, you licked a long strip down his cock and whatever he was going to say was mingled in a strangled moan. You continued with small controlled kitten licks, testing out all his soft spots before closing your mouth over the tip and sucking softly. Taking your time, you invite him into your mouth at a slow pace, partially teasing him and partially adjusting yourself to his size. 

You gradually swallowed around him, gagged slightly when he pistoned his hips slightly forward. He pushed you on and you swallowed around him, making him groan proudly as he bottomed out into your mouth, your nose nestling in his curls.

“Look who’s the whore now.” he managed to say as his hands found your hair to grab onto. 

You rolled your eyes at him and began to move your mouth along him, sucking him hungrily. He sang his praises, incoherent moans spilling out of him. He wanted to punish you, to teach you a lesson, but how could he when you were taking him so well, without a single complaint or cry. It made him want to worship you instead. But the primal creature inside of him forbade it and it took over him, making him pull out of your mouth and slam back. You choked around him but the sounds that he made spurred you on, letting your tongue lick his underside. Your perfectly done makeup was most definitely ruined as you felt your eyes water. You both were definitely in a game of seeing who could tap out and for a second you thought that you could in fact overpower this man. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

Javier suddenly pulls you off him but didn't give you a chance to take a breath, pulling you up to your feet and letting his lips meet yours in a frenzied fashion,

“Lose your limits, mariposa, just give me a chance to prove to you just what I can do.” he pulled away and commanded sinfully, but he might as well had just done it straight to your cunt from the way you were already soaking. 

“What are you waiting for Javs?” you exhaled and he reclaimed your lips with his. 

He pressed himself hard against you, making you moan as he showed off his possessiveness. He licked into your mouth, groaning at how sweet you tasted. You could taste cigarettes on his breath and it instinctively made you want to rut your hips against his hard on, an aroused buzz coursing through your veins. He pulled away slightly, not before nipping your lips and drawing another moan from you. 

Javier pushed you down onto the bed, falling on top of you. He dragged the tip of his nose down your neck and sunk his teeth into the soft skin of your neck. You reeled at the pain that surged up your spine before crying out loud at the way he started to kiss and suck your neck. You were pretty sure that he was thinking about you claiming that you don’t bruise easily, making it his priority to mark you with all he’s got. When he was satisfied, he pulled away and smirked at you before flipping you over. You felt the bed dip around you as Javier’s fingertips grazed the back of your neck, moving your hair aside.

You felt his hand at your holster, slowly pulling out your blade and letting it skim across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, making you whimper slightly. Suddenly, you felt it at your dress, the sharp edge almost touching you as it tore your dress open. You were mad but it was was your turn to smirk as Javier gasped at the surprise that met his eyes. His knuckle skimmed your skin and you could tell that he was staring open mouthed at the delicate branch of flowers trailing along your spine. 

“Fuck, youre fucking beautiful.” he hissed, feeling like it was Christmas, hastily pulling away your dress like it was wrapping paper to reveal you all bear for him, tossing it aside with your knife. 

You were completely naked under your dress and Javier was impressed. He let his hands explore you, leaving no inch of skin unattended. 

“Stop being a fucking tease.” you moan, secretly relishing the way he was taking his time. 

Suddenly, he smacks your ass hard, drawing a muffled moan from you as you bury your face in the sheets, before flipping you over again. He immediately ran his hands up and down your body, quenching his quest of wanting to touch you. The shape of your body drove him mad and he wanted to worship you, to make you call out to him and only him. 

He testily palm at your tits, moaned together, you at the stimulation, him at the way you felt under his hand. He tweaked your hardening nipples, making you writhe and moan. While you were distracted, your legs fell open and Javier brushed a finger through your slick, making you moan.

“Fuck, Javs…” you breathed as he pushed a finger inside of you and brought it back out for you to taste. 

“I bet you taste great, but I’ll get mine straight from the source.” he smirked, as your tongue swirled around his finger, sucking it the way you did his cock.

Your clit is warm and throbbing under his touch and you shudder as he starts to massage it back and forth. He bends down and his tongue licks slowly up your wetness, parting your pussy lips and teasing your clit, going absolutely feral at the way you tasted. 

You shiver and moan, arching your hips trying to get him to lick you more. Instead he stops and you immediately whimper and bite your lip trying not to show how badly you wanted him to keep licking. You grind your hips against his face, your clit catching his nose and you whine, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy. He finally caves in and gives you what you want, holding you down and pushing his tongue into you. 

He greedily fucks you with his tongue, putting in a new meaning to eating you out as his hands spread you wide open and his tongue scoops out every remnant of your wetness. Your clit isn’t abandoned with the way his thumb gave it all of its attention. It doesn’t take long before it’s too much and you start to feel the orgasm start to wash over you. Your body bucks involuntarily at his touch as he slows it to match your moans. His big dark brown eyes watches you intently from his vantage point, wanting to see how the first orgasm he gives you absolutely wreaks havoc on your body. 

You were absolutely out of it, the orgasm ripping every cell in your body in half, rendering you absolutely useless. You shook in Javier’s arms, only vaguely hearing his praises as they floated their way into your ears. Your eyes are shut and you didn’t realise that he was already plotting his next plan to destroy you. You feel something nudge your entrance and Javier slips into you without any resistance, and his lips are back on your mouth, swallowing your moans. 

One of his hands found yours, gripping them at the wrist and breaking the kiss only to pin them over your head. He held them firmly, one wrist between his thumb and index finger and the other wrist between his index and middle finger, locking them in position as he started pistoning his hips. Your eyes were hooded as you looked up at him, indulging the way sweat made his face shine and glow. 

“You look fucking deadly like this, cariño, all spread out for me.” he grunts as his cock continued its assault on your pussy.

You clench down around him and he slumps slightly, not expecting that move from you as you lazily pull your lips into a smirk. He pushes on deeper, hitting all the best spots, pressing down on your wrists harder. You feel your juices squelch out of you and onto the bed. Your tits jiggle harder and the bed frame creaked with Javier’s thrusts as he slowly lost himself in you. 

“Javs, yes… don’t stop, please…” you whine as he keeps slamming into you harder. 

“Say my name again,” one thrust. 

You mumble, trying your best to let his name tumble out of your voice box.

“Please, say it.” he trusts again. 

“Javier…” his cock literally pushes his name out of you. 

Suddenly, Javier pulls out and flips you over before you could lean towards your pleasure. You whimper at the emptiness you felt, your pussy fluttering around nothingness. You felt your arms being gathered at your back by one of Javier’s arms and he bent you backwards so that your chest stuck out. You gasped for air, sweat sticking bits of your hair to your forehead.  

“Who do you belong to?” his mouth was back on your neck, leaving kisses in between his questions. 

“You…” you clearly did by the way he had just used you. 

“Never going to let a filthy criminal touch you again.” he growled in your ear and you smiled, coming to your senses.

“Says the criminal who is touching me.” you feel a spike in your confidence as the words leave your mouth, only to have it crashing back to ground zero as Javier dropped you onto the bed. 

“Oh you’re going to regret that, mariposa.” he says and you could visualise him grabbing his cock and feeling the stretch as he shoves himself back into you. 

His hand inched its way around your throat, and he pulled you up again, making you choke. Your pussy betrayed you as you clenched down on him, making him laugh deliriously. 

“You fucking like it when I did that to you yesterday, didn’t you, you slut.” his hand grips harder at your throat, squeezing ever so slightly, his touch is forceful, masterful, alluring with the hidden depths of just the right amount of sensuality as he pulls your head closer to his. You helplessly tried to ask him to keep going, came out of your mouth like hot garbage from the strain his hand was putting on your throat.

“Harder, I need it harder.” you breathlessly spoke.

“I know, baby, I know” his soft words were a huge contrast with the way he was manhandling you.

Now all you can think of is his hard cock, there’s a pulsing in your head, a dizzying, nauseating feeling overcomes your entire body. You can feel his hard body pressing against yours and all thoughts of the night left your head, leaving a void that was soon filled with disgusting, disturbing thoughts. You want this man to fucking ruin you, you had tasted the sin on his lips and you couldn’t help yourself but want more. 

Moaning and whimpering you cum before you even know what’s happening. It was blinding again and you literally lost all sight as your tight cunt contracts and squeezes his cock as tight as you can over and over again in time with his hips thrusts. He doesn’t stop pounding your wet cunt and you let him chase his own orgasm as more filth spills out of his mouth. He makes a wet slapping sound as he fucks you from behind.

After a few more seconds of fucking your cunt you feel him tense up. He lets go of your neck and pulls your hips tight to his and his cock flexes and then begins to spurt his hot cum into you. He folds his body over yours, grunting as he tries to catch his breath, subconsciously canting his hips forward to ride out his own orgasm. His sweaty skin was sticking to yours as you felt his moustache against your neck. 

“Fuck, Javs.” you say first, feeling his heartbeat against your back. 

“Lo siento-”

“And he’s apologising again! What now, Peña?” you sigh.

Javier stays silent for a while before pressing his lips to your shoulder. The air around the both of you smelled like crazy sex and your brain was still slowly coming down from its high. 

“Sorry for calling you a slut.” his hand trailed against your spine, tracing your tattoo.

“Jezz, Javs, you know I like it.” you said, keening into his touch as he smiled against your skin. 

“I’m sorry for calling you a whore too.” you said, smirking as Javier’s hand kneaded your ass. “Although, I do mean it, you’re fuckin’ freaky as hell.”

“You’re welcome.” his hand left your cheek and came back down with a sharp smack. 

Slowly he pulled out of you and you groaned, feeling his cum seep out of you. Two of his fingers pushed his cum back in, to no avail and he eyes your cunt as he does it over and over, accidentally pulling another orgasm out of your sensitive cunt from his trance. 

“Oops.” he mumbles before gently flipping you onto your back and walking to the bathroom. 

He slowly wipes you with a warm towel, avoiding any part of you that could have been potentially sensitive before tossing it aside and laying beside you. You pull his head into your chest and he leaves soft promising kisses onto your tits as you wrap your legs around his torso. You both fall asleep like that, not another word leaving your mouths as the after effects of your madness lulled the both of you into deep and dark dreams. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were not surprised when you woke up to an empty bed. A pile of fresh clothes sat at the edge and you sighed, willing yourself not to tear up at the abandonment you felt coursing through your veins. You stumbled into work all sore, every part of you hurting from the way Javier had treated you, including your heart. Cheers greeted you and you pulled your collar tightly around your neck as Steve stepped towards you with a cup of what suspiciously looked like whiskey. 

“Let me guess, you guys got La Quiqa?” you said, taking the cup from Steve.

“Yep.” 

You looked around for the one you needed to see the most but your eyes never caught him. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard about Javier?” Steven suddenly says, making your eyes snap towards him instantly. 

“What?”

“He turned himself in, just got on the flight back to D.C. for his re-evaluation.” Steve says, shrugging, but the sadness was evident in his voice. 

Your head swimmed as you stared into your cup of whiskey. He has truly left you. 

Without even a single goodbye. 

You nod to no one in particular, anger driving you to stay upright. You sigh and walk towards your desk. 

“What are you waiting for, Murphy?” You said shortly, “We have Escobar to catch.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few months later

Javier sat at the bar and swirled his drink in his hand revealing his past few months. He woke up every morning to the thought of you and tried hard to drink the feeling of you away with bottles of the shit he kept at home. But here he was, back in Bogotá, nervously tapping his leg, wondering when he would ever catch a glimpse of you.  

He breathed heavily, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and searched for his lighter, but to no avail. He searched again and was ready to admit defeat when a light suddenly flashed before him. 

“Hola patrón. Congratulations on the promotion.”

That voice.

The cigarette dropped out of Javier's mouth as he turned to stare at you. You wore an angry expression on your face, but Javier wasn’t phased. He was so happy to see your beautiful face that a dopey smile unwillingly spread on his face. 

“Who’s the criminal now, you thieving little minx.” he snorted, snatching his lighter away.

“You fucking left me, you asshole!” you started to hit him.

He grabbed your arms and pulled you off the bar stool and flush to his body. 

“No, I fucked you, then I left you. You need to work on your English, mariposa.” he smirked.

It only made you swing harder, but Javier was quicker, pulling your face towards him with his free hand and locking you down with a bruising kiss. You relax into his kiss and you feel him smile triumphantly and you let him, wrenching your arms out of his grasp and pulling him in by his tie. 

You pull away and scowl at him, biting your lip slightly. You take a better look at his getup, smiling slightly at his more professional look, a contrast to the shirts he wore with open buttons. 

“You know I had to go, mariposa, I couldn’t do it anymore.” he said, smoothing out your hair and kissing your forehead. 

“I know. But that doesn’t make me any less mad.” you say, looking straight into his eyes as he pulled away. 

“I know how to make it up to you?” he said, clearly testing the waters.

“Whatever you say, patrón.” you smirked, crashing your lips to his once again. 

Translations:

- Mariposa: butterfly

- Los Pepes: Paramilitary group composed of enemies of Pablo Escobar.

- Lo siento: I’m sorry

- Sicario: hitmen

Reblogs are appreciated ~~

- Cariño: sweetheart

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[musings-of-a-rose]

All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)?  Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery. 

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case. 

Sexy would not begin to describe this man. 

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms. 

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes. 

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up. 

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it. 

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us. 

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding. 

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks. 

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man. 

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee. 

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order. 

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks. 

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus. 

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there. 

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?” 

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look. 

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.” 

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away. 

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it. 

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement. 

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer. 

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity. 

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin. 

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy. 

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later. 

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm. 

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name. 

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.  

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly. 

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

General Taglist:

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#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javi pena #javier pena x you #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier peña #javi peña #narcos #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena ff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #javijueves #pedropascal #pedropascaledit #pedro pascal fanfic

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#pedro pascal cinematic universe #dave york #marcus pike #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x dave york #marcus pike smut #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

BOO! Hii :)) I luv your arcane work, wondering if you could write a lil fluff fic with Vi and Jinx w/ an SO that has trouble getting out of bed bc of motivation problems, and they help a lot (I'm not projecting...I swear...)

★。／ just keep driving ＼。★

pairing: vi x f!reader, jinx x gn!reader (separate)

fandom: arcane

word count: 480

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, other than that just some wholesome fluffy content for my girls cuz they really need it – not proofread. Im tired

song title: keep driving by harry styles (i’m in a phase ok-)

notes: dw anon i hear you, my sleep schedule has been busted recently and i have no motivation :DD hope you enjoy some fluffy content with our girls, they really need it, so i loved this request!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

↳˗ˏviˎ˗ ↴

i don’t think vi has ever had a moment to slow down in her entire life

going from looking after powder to living in a prison to trying to track down her sister and help caitlin, vi just simply doesn’t have the time 

but that doesn’t mean she isn’t sympathetic to you

she finds you one morning when you had been late to meet up with her to complete a bounty she had taken on for some extra cash, so she decides to travel to your home in zaun to figure out what’s wrong with you

walking through your front door, she worries that maybe someone broke in

are you hurt?

did you leave?

did something happen to you?

what if– 

but no, you’re just in bed, staring at the ceiling and not moving, even when your bedroom door swings open and you have a 5’8” buff woman in the doorway

she will drag you out of bed if she has to, carrying you around, gently coaxing you through your day’s chores one at a time, with her right beside you <3 

“hey cupcake… rough couple of weeks? i understand, i’ll help you out today, yeah? one step at a time babe, and i’ll be here the whole time. slowly, ok? let’s get you some food first before we head out for the day. you gotta get out of bed today though, and i’m not leaving you here.”

↳˗ˏ jinx ˎ˗ ↴

jinx isn’t going to be much help to be honest 

all things considered, i don’t think jinx really does anything she is supposed to do, without putting it off for weeks and weeks

this isn’t necessarily a motivation issue with her though, just just can’t be fucked-

so when she comes barreling into your house to show off a new bomb she had been experimenting with, almost setting your house on fire, she’s not entirely surprised to find you curled up in bed

she’ll put away the bomb if you ask nicely enough - and give her a good pair of puppy eyes - and instead she’ll join you in bed

she doesn’t have anything to do that day anyways

and if you do? she thinks you can do it tomorrow, who’s really gonna care?

you have a girlfriend willing to commit arson for you if you ask, no one is going to criticise you as long as jinx is around

cuddles are in store for you

(if you beg her, you might be able to convince her to help you with your chores later on too)

“heya toots! it’s a lazy day today, huh? no problem, i was gonna have one of those myself. leave monkey-bomb outside? fineeee. if you insist. we’re not doing anything today though, ya hear me? i could really use some cuddles after tinkering in my workshop all day. scooch over now, bubbles!”

hope you enjoyed anon!!!

be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed :))

#arcane #writing #fanfic #arcane headcanon #arcane x reader #vi x reader #violet arcane #lesbian #arcane smut #sevika #sevika x reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[optiwashere]

Please write your thoughts about the importance of Shadowheart for Shar/Selûne :D

I FEED on character analysis.

SO!!!! This got long as fuck and also morphed into what you asked + a general character interpretation.

I relied on a combination of 2nd, 3rd, and 5th edition D&D lore, R.A. Salvatore novels, and of course BG3 as sources. Shadowheart's characterization adds up the most coherently on the purely romance / "get her away from Shar" path, and that is what I'm using as a basis for this post. Even when you're playing an "evil" route, she behaves in ways that betray a lot of what I get into under the break. This post, however, is biased towards the "good" path of her personal quest for the sake of my sanity and a somewhat reasonable word count.

First, a preamble for people that are maybe less knowledgeable about Forgotten Realms lore.

One of the biggest characterizations of Shar and Selûne in the Forgotten Realms is that they are twin sides of the same thing: night. Night as an aesthetic is symbolic of, among other things: mysteries, being lost without guidance (such as in faith or purpose), and finding oneself when one reaches for the truth. I.e., reaching light from the moon, stars, or daybreak (which is itself a symbol as the natural conclusion of darkness being light for redemption following suffering, goodness defeating evil, finding faith, etc.)

Shar and Selûne are sisters that also share the Night domain in 3e, a sort of fulcrum they both work around — Shar as the "malevolent" darkness with Selûne as the "benevolent" night. There is even a recognized heresy called the Dark Moon heresy in both cults/religions that Shar and Selûne are actually the same goddess playing one gigantic trick on Faerûn (this comes from a 3.5e splatbook called Power of Faerûn) but it's been pushed time and time again that the two sisters are, in fact, two separate entities. But duality of divinity, and how worshipers interpret their god, is a theme we see played up a ton in BG3.

What we know about Shar is that she despises her sister. Loathes her. Not only does she loathe her, she tricked Selûne's followers during the Time of Troubles, about 140 years before BG3, into worshiping her instead of the Moonmaiden. The Time of Troubles was a period when gods walked the Realms, rather than tossing avatars around everywhere. This lead to the formation of a fanatical group of cultists that followed the real Selûne, called the Lunatics (I'm still proud of managing to reference them in a goddamn Explicit PWP fic)

Meanwhile, Selûne is seen as a calming force. She wars with her sister every single night, and does not like her one bit, but she does it as a means to protect others from her sister rather than as a spiteful game. She's not as omnipresent in people's lives, she is just a natural force to a lot of her followers.

How does any of this relate to Shadowheart? Spoiler stuff and the actual character analysis under the break.

We know that Shadowheart was a "chosen" of Selûne as a child, per her parents' dialogue under the House of Grief. However, it's important to note that most religions in Faerûn name potential clerics as "chosen" ones of gods and goddesses.

We know that, throughout the game, Shadowheart learns that she is being manipulated by the Lady of Loss to do acts that go against some sort of internalized moral code that Shadowheart has. We see her approval go up when you do good acts (as long as you ask for compensation, or if it's to help helpless people/animals) and we see her disapprove when you press her boundaries or act unjustly cruel. "Unjust" is left so vague because she does not behave at all according to how the vast majority of Sharrans behave. There are numerous other flags for approval/disapproval such as her enjoying playful chaos, or disliking when you're too trusting of other companions when you first meet them, but we'll focus on the first set I mentioned.

We also know that Shadowheart was continually subjected to memory erasure via the cult of Shar in Baldur's Gate. This gets mildly restored here and there via the tadpoles and Dame Aylin, but her memory is mostly gone. So this moral code is something ingrained in her somehow, because Sharrans don't have kindness training. There's another entire character analysis to be written about Viconia's role in this as it relates to her own character in Baldur's Gate 2, but let's ignore that for now.

In the cloister under the House of Grief, there is a note you can find that outlines the squad sent to find the artifact that protects everyone from the Absolute's domination. The squad has a leader, and it is not Shadowheart. She is listed as "healer" and the text before this explicitly states that the entire squad is expendable. None of them matter to Shar.

BUT!

Divine visitation by a goddess is incredibly rare. It usually only happens to high level clerics, which Shadowheart isn't really even at 12th-level, and to those that the goddess has an extreme, vested interest in. If you free the Nightsong/Dame Aylin instead of killing her, Shadowheart is wrenched out of the Material Plane and made to suffer for an indeterminate amount of time. That, plus literally meeting Shar in the conclusion to her personal question, is very odd given what we know about Shadowheart.

If we presume that Larian did their jobs, and I'm going to because I trust them, then there is an immediate dilemma presented here. Either Shadowheart matters to Shar (she is not expendable), or she is just another zealot (she is expendable.) There is no half-truth in that logic table that really works for Shar, she's an absurdly dogmatic goddess. See: literally any Sharran you encounter in BG3 that isn't Shadowheart. It's possible that the writer of the note didn't know what they were talking about, but I think that's a lazy out that doesn't hold water with the rest of the evidence.

So, which is it? This being the part where I'm mostly in interpretation territory, Shar views Shadowheart as the perfect puppet, a toy to needle at her sister, not because she is important at all as a person, but because she's a representation of Selûne that Shar can mold to suit her image as she did in the Time of Troubles. We hear that in the game when Shadowheart basically says that she was just a thing for Shar to use. She's beaten into (what Shar believes will be) submission for not becoming a Dark Justiciar, but it only serves to sever the tie between cleric and goddess.

Shadowheart is Shar's answering play to Selûne beating that trick from the Time of Troubles, and there will be another Shadowheart after her eventual death. Shadowheart is both incredibly important and utterly worthless to Shar in the same way that an abuser uses affection and trust to hurt their victims. Love bombs in the form of divine power, sending her on this important mission, and offering the title of Dark Justiciar are followed by pain when Shadowheart displeases her. As if, on a whim, all that supposed mutual respect could turn into non-consensual, extreme violence.

Shadowheart is an objectified opportunity for Shar to fuck with Selûne for the entirety of a single half-elf's lifespan (anywhere from 150-200 years) and nothing more. A plaything to discard when all is said and done after a microcosm of time where a goddess is concerned. Whatever Shadowheart thinks she's benefiting from with Shar, it's all a trick. It's a massive delusion with which she's been brainwashed into participating.

And deep down, deep deep way deep down, Shadowheart knows this even in Act One. She spouts random sayings and the sorts of 2edgy4me one-liners that you would expect from a somewhat goth-y, slightly sassy Stock Evil Cleric in a fantasy RPG. For a good portion of Act One, you wouldn't be wrong to assume she's extremely one note and a total zealot. That is, unless you know two things:

That Shar is a fucking menace in Faerûn, and nothing good ever comes naturally from her cult. Anyone that knows FR lore was probably like me when they first interacted with Shadowheart. I know I basically said, "What the fuck, you're not a Sharran lmao. Either Larian goofed hard, or something's fishy here."

That extraordinarily devout people tend not to babble in verse, prayer, and all that unless they are also trying to convince themselves to have more faith in a set of beliefs that they're not entirely sold on. This isn't 100% of the time, but it's something you see in people whose faith is not very strong. People who have ironclad faiths and hold consistent ideologies tend to rely more on personal interpretation of faith, for good or ill. You see this all over BG3 in the people that are more confident in their beliefs, as well. Isobel, Orin, and Z'rell are three wildly different angles on that, for example. It's really all over the game in the NPCs.

That second point is the more important one here. Shadowheart, in Act One, is constantly talking about her goddess. If she's not hiding the artifact from you, she's couching an event in concern over what Shar would think of how she behaved. Like she's still a scared child who doesn't know how to handle what's happening around her despite being completely capable in scenarios as hectic as melee combat with ogres. The difference shines bright as day if you play a follower of Selûne and push back on her beliefs, though you do of course get a lot of vitriol in the beginning. Even so, it's clear that Shadowheart knows something is off about Shar whenever confronted with actual Sharran activity/belief, but she's been brainwashed and abused so horrendously that she constantly tries to "correct" herself to appease her abuser.

Selûne, however, isn't really a "part" of Shadowheart's quest in the same way as Shar. The Moonmaiden is not an active participant, she is not a guiding hand or even a faint idea in Shadowheart's thought processes because of how intense the memory blending got for her. The most we ever really get of Selûne's opinion comes from external sources (pretty much entirely from Shadowheart's parents, Isobel, and Aylin when she's not PROCLAIMING DIVINE RIGHTS.) To the Moonmaiden, Shadowheart is really just another of her many, many children spread throughout the Realms. Yet, Shadowheart retains that sense of inherent goodness that Selûne instils in her followers.

Unlike the Lady of Loss, Selûne's indifference isn't hateful or spiteful at all. For Selûne, the ultimate goal of any of her followers is to find themselves. To illuminate who they are meant to be by moonlight. Two of her domains in 3rd edition are Protection and Travel, and in 5e she has Knowledge as well, while one of her "mantles" (the domain equivalent for psionics) is Freedom. She wants to give her followers the ability to freely tread whichever road will lead to self-actualization.

Selûne demands almost nothing of her own followers so long as they act according to the basic tenets of a traditionally Chaotic Good deity. She accepts flaws, faults, and failures in her clerics as much as she rewards strengths, virtues, and victories. There is no divine intervention from Selûne because she accepts Shadowheart intrinsically as long as Shadowheart finds herself. All it took for Selûne to take Shadowheart back after forty years of being a fanatical Sharran was saving one person, and trusting one of two people that we know she's let in for that forty years (the PC, as well as possibly Nocturne) — Selûne sees that she's an abuse victim at the heart of it all.

Side-note: Selûne's primary holy symbol is two eyes surrounded by stars. She is always a passive witness to her clerics' deeds. I don't think I need to get into that symbolism.

Whenever given the chance, Shadowheart values freedom incredibly highly. Even in someone she can take the entire game to warm up to, such as Lae'zel. Her dialogue after Lae'zel denounces Vlaakith speaks directly to this. It's seen repeatedly in her comments on other characters' personal quests such as Astarion, or Karlach, and with Lorroakan's intent on imprisoning Aylin in Act 3.

Once Shadowheart is pulled away from Shar's influence in the end of Act 2/early Act 3, she is... not a completely different person, but she is absolutely a calmer individual that also allows her emotions to surface more intensely. If you're romancing her by Act 2, she confesses that she wants to be with the PC (forever) IMMEDIATELY after being punished horrifically by Shar; she progresses the romance far faster once Shar is out of her brain; she cries, alone, in front of the PC if she chooses to listen to her parents and spare herself from Shar while also killing them. She's known this entire time that she's purposefully holding parts of herself back, and this is her immediate reaction to being set free.

Of course, it's a video game and things aren't always perfectly paced, especially considering the implementation of the Long Rest system. Much of this interpretation requires you to accept that.

After the small dialogue about Shar's intervention after the Gauntlet, the narrator comments that you're not sure if telling Shadowheart where her divine power now comes from will break her spirit forever. That's interesting, and it makes her almost manic change to "I have to be with this person forever" in the romance so utterly sad. Shadowheart is an almost textbook depiction of someone who struggles immensely with vulnerability and emotional openness due to childhood neglect and abuse. Even worse, she's been suffering that neglect and abuse for forty-plus years and she cannot remember what life was like before the time when she constantly yearned for the approval of her abuser. When she's set free and given the appropriate space to manage her feelings (all of the times she asks to be given space/asks the PC to respect her boundaries), support from friends and loved ones in the way Larian handled the camp crew's reactions to everyone's personal quests, and a purpose in life that extends beyond her abuser, she flourishes almost immediately.

To Selûne, Shadowheart is simply another person finding themselves in a world that's incredibly difficult to navigate. Under Shar's domination, Shadowheart will never be anything more than a useful puppet that dances happily whenever her goddess asks, pleased to be what she thinks is useful as she wears the false title of Dark Justiciar. With Selûne watching but not pushing, Shadowheart can be free of everything but her own choices, her own mistakes and victories. Her own person, freed from expectation.

P.S. "Breaking out of toxic thought patterns" is a common thread in the companion romances and quests. In a similar way to how Astarion uses sexuality to mask a part of himself in his romance, Shadowheart sees all this time she's spent holding herself back as an excuse to reverse course and accelerate ridiculously fast by comparison.

My point is, she is a U-Haul Lesbian.

#hey you can ask me things! #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #shadowheart #shadowheart analysis by yours truly #there is so much to analyze about viconia in bg3 as well #shadowheart's romance has some interesting mirrors to viconia's from bg2 #there is a phenotype for unsure sharrans and it comes back to “why do I trust this person so much?” and battling with that #it is - as they say - girl dinner #also shar should absolutely share the Twilight domain in 5e #and on a final note: if you ever want to know where my shadowheart kink headcanons come from hellllllllloooooooo this post #bc as sweet as she is goddamn that girl loves when you degrade people and she has a CONSISTENT interest in sadomasochist behavior

[mo0nfairy]

Three words: yandere Luis Sera.

tw :: re4 spoilers, yandere!luis, obsessive!luis, kidnapping, guns, drugging, noncon touching, blood, wounds, parasites, insinuations of sex, being physically restrained.

⸺ yall. this man. >>>>>>>> zoo wee mama !!! this dude literally has me full-on giggling and kicking my feet while i write about him in my diary. and his voice and dialogue !!!! can't get enough of him i stg- but let me chill out cuz i could literally talk about luis for hours. with that out of the way, i must address the elephant in the room. he survives here. period. (i'm still salty about this count your fucking days capcom).

you and luis had met while he was still working for los iluminados. his task was simple: lure victims into his laboratory what the sultry attitude of his, infect them with las plagas, and give them away to the saddler. and you were just like any other victim, lost and confused over what the fuck you had gotten yourself into. but for whatever reason, you didn't seem afraid at all. you were annoyed at the inconvenience more than anything.

he meets you at the church, where you had attempted to find help in the middle of your crisis. and he'd be a liar if he said you weren't much prettier than all his other victims. the way you look at him with that harsh gaze pulls on his heartstrings like a puppeteer. your furrowed brows and that adorable pout — oh, how badly he wishes to kiss it all away. but, he has been assigned a task. and as much as he wants to abandon it right then and there for you, he must persevere.

you point your gun in his direction. "forgive my manners. my name is luis sera, encantado." luis puts his hands in the air and surrenders with that all-too irritating look on his face.

he then puts on his best facade of the unfortunate traveler who got caught up in this mess. and you don't believe him for a second. you ignore his insinuations of you teaming up, as well as his obnoxious attempts at flirting and go your own way. correction, you try and go your own way. you now just have this yapping puppy dog at your side. and god, does it piss you off how flirtatious he attempts to be during such a time like this. holding open doors for you despite there being every kind of abomination on his tail; a shitty remark like "after you, i insist" with a smirk and a wink. your sneer afterwards drives him nuts.

for the first time in the entirety of this heartthrob's life, luis is chasing after someone. the pursued is now pursuing and it is slowly but surely driving him fucking insane. your resistance to his affections isn't the only thing that allures him to you, however. it's your ambition, your drive, your depth that truly thrusts him into the deep end. admitting he is deeply in love is nothing but a pipe dream, as he knows your inevitable rejection will shatter him, but he will show this love through flirtatious, albeit desperate, acts of affection. eyes softening whenever you're in his train of vision, the ardent kiss on your hand when you help him up from a ledge, doing the whole "hey, is this guy bothering you?" when there is a literal demon chasing you. (he is also 10000% a "where my hug at?" kind of guy. i am so sorry.)

by the time you two make it to his laboratory, luis knows in his heart there is no way he can hide it now. he is hopelessly and irrevocably devoted to you. so, he meticulously has you read through his notes regarding the amber. while you are occupied, luis approaches you from behind, locks you tight in his arms and shoves a syringe into your neck. you feel him press kisses to your temple as you struggle in his embrace; incoherent words of affection reverberating in your ears. soon, everything goes quiet and finally, you can rest.

a blinding light welcomes you once you wake. in an attempt to scrutinize your surroundings, you realize you are restrained to an examination table. ragged belts loop around your legs, your arm, your waist, god, even your neck. you can't move a single muscle, despite your efforts to do such. the squeaking of a stool's wheels sliding across the ground steals your attention. luis sera now sits beside you in all his glory, taking a puff from a cigarette while his other hand grasps hold of yours. you want so badly to slap it away from you, maybe sock him square in the face while you're at it, but you're paralyzed from head-to-toe and completely inexorable to his touch.

"i love you like this." his voice has that same sultry tone you're used to, but there is something sickeningly sweet that hangs off of his every word. “i'm certainly the luckiest bastard in the world to have you beneath me.”

you don't respond, only staring at him in sheer horror while he begins to caress the top of your head. and just when you think this nightmare couldn't get any worse, luis leans down and brings you into a fervent kiss. you can almost hear how his heart pounds like a drum in his chest, as it always does when you’re around. after your attempts at thrashing against him, you use all force within you to bite down on his lip as a last resort. he endures, this is worth any and all pain, before he finally pulls away from you. “mierda!” he exclaims. your mouth tastes of copper and smoke; your teeth are now painted red.

"okay, we'll skip the foreplay." he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, that smug grin returning to his lips. "come on. where's the love, baby?"

luis runs his tongue across the scar you left with your teeth and a shiver runs down his spine. your mark on him, it makes him dizzy with euphoria. and he knows how terrified you must be, considering your current circumstances and of what he is known to be capable of. but, maybe this can be a new chapter for him — for the both of you. you can continue being your most amazing self, all with him at your side. and he'll pursue a tender heart and romancing the love of his life, a major contrast to the all-too lonely, bloodied footprints in his path.

besides, people can change. right, y/n?

disclaimer :: reader is not infected lol.

#im literally just babbling at this point #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #luis sera #luis serra #luis sera x reader #luis serra x reader #luis sera imagine #yandere luis sera #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

[ruporas]

apologies if you've already been asked this but do you have any favorite trigun fics? i absolutely adore your art btw!

thank you!!! and i've answered this on insta, but i don't think i've ever shared on tumblr... i'm not good at reading fics, esp long ones, because my attention span is pretty bad, but from the ones i have bookmarked, i'll share some that i like in no particular order

hills like white elephants (meet me halfway) - adlvnam

pairing: vashwood word count: 1.1k, sfw, vague post v.10 spoilers ‘I read a story once,’ Vash says, unsure. ‘I’m kind of thinking about it right now.’

i like a lot of adlvnam's fics, i find them very unique and creative in their execution, and their writing is wonderful! this was the first fic i've read from them and it's stuck with me ever since. others that i like from them are in manus tuas (no spoilers) and vox dei (warning for post vol.10 spoilers).

stay - Anonymous

pairing: vashwood word count: 2.3k, sfw, no spoilers “Hold up,” Vash groans. He presses his free hand to Wolfwood’s mouth and shushes him. He’s probably going for a stern look, though between his poor attempts to stop grinning like the biggest idiot this side of the planet and the way he’s patting him, it’s hard to take him seriously. “Stop laughin’. Where’s the keys?” “What keys?” Wolfwood tries to ask, muffled by Vash’s hand, and his tongue is a little thick and slow in his mouth so… something comes out, but it’s probably not very wordy. Word-like. Not a sentence, probably. (or, wolfwood and vash get drunk, bicker, and then share a bed together.)

i enjoyed the mundanity and silliness of this fic and i think about it from time to time... i think fics where one of them or both drink together are pleasant to read.

Last Summer - varilien

pairing: vashwood word count: 741, sfw, no spoilers You are what you love.

tags on this one are "sunrises, morning routines, coffee, sentimental" which caught my attention. very sweet and beautiful.

Rain - Kokohamstar

pairing: none, wolfwood centric word count: 768, sfw, major spoilers - post v.10 Ever since he was a little kid listening to Bible stories, he dreamed of the day the world would be washed clean and wondered what the rain would feel like on his face.

as most wolfwood centric fics, it was a gutpunch and melancholic, but still soooo.. augh.... the last paragraph really does it for me.

water bucket blues - fathomfive

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.7k, sfw, major spoilers, post trimax Vash the Stampede goes on the record about a friend he once had. Also about card games, cats, family, and some other things. "Start with a piece of the whole, Meryl said. It doesn’t have to be the first piece. Start with a specific. That’s what they mean when they throw around the words human interest. I know the pieces. Believing they make a whole is another thing. But she’s a broadcast professional and I trust her advice. Maybe if I can figure out how to tell one piece—like the story of Wolfwood as I knew him—I can learn how to tell the others."

i love vash pov fics and i love it when it's first person and this one in particular hits because it's his pov and he speaks, honestly, openly, telling a tale that he can't really flub because it's about the people he loved. i love how grounded this fic is in the present of max, i love how vash grows within the 3.7k words, i love how he moves forward with the world he's living in. this fic makes me teary if i think too much about it... it's really wonderful.

it’s a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world - goldenglitz

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.9k, nsfw, no spoilers Vash has the lung capacity of a man who’s cried for 150 years. It isn't like Wolfwood takes more than he gives — but like with most things, he barely keeps up with Vash. He works his body to the limit, even as his lungs burn and his legs and arms give out under him. They fuck like they’re on borrowed time. All of this makes it so easy — so much easier than just talking. Wolfwood would sometimes rather pull new and interesting noises from Vash with just his mouth than do anything else with it. Their own dialect: moans, groans, and four words. “Yes” — “Please” — “Vash” — “Wolfwood.”

i love all of their vashwood fics, they only have 3 but they're all lovely and has a sort of characterization to both vash and wolfwood i don't see often. definitely one of my faves, especially when it comes to explicit vw fics.

i think these are all the ones i'll share for now!!

#asks #thanks for sending this! #one day ill get around to the chapters long fics that has really enticing summaries #most of the fics i like tends to be more trimax based i realized... It's not that surprising but i always go like yay yippee whenever i fin #a more max-canon fic - not something i intentionally hunt down for but i have my bias dmgkgs

[sea-you-in-paradise]

Hi can I please get an Erwin x secret wife reader? Just a lot of fluff and how the scouts finds out that their commander is a married man. Thank you

homie... this is the cutest ask ever oh my god i'm fucking giggling over this and i'm not even an erwin girly

summary: erwin smith x secret wife reader: meeting, married life, and the discovery word count: 1.449 setting: canonverse fem!reader warnings: season 2 & 3 spoilers

when erwin smith met you, not even his resolve to stay away from relationships could stop him from falling in love. and somewhat unfortunately, there was no stopping you from loving him back.

frankly, your relationship was the last thing erwin wanted. being a scout, the commander of the scouts nonetheless, meant that tomorrow was never promised. with the disproportionately slim chance of surviving his career until retirement, he had made a silent promise to stay away from love. of course, meeting you changed that in spite of his better judgement...

-it was shortly after erwin had been named the new commander of the scouts. after is appointment, he often went and got a beer at this small tavern in one of sina's outlier districts so he could try to organize his thoughts

-you were the one to approach him, asking if he was alright because he looked a little dejected. erwin, always hellbent on demonstrating his strength, overcompensated a little bit and exuded a little too much of his illusive confidence

-you laughed at him and told him that he acts like a politician

-it wasn't often that someone saw through him, he found it intriguing. you talked for awhile that nigh, expecting to go your separate ways, but you ran into him there a few more times, and when you did, you would sit together and talk. eventually, you organized some cafe dates on sunday mornings. you didn't actually know who he was until your fifth or sixth meeting, which was funny to you because he never thought to mention it, and funny to him because he thought you knew all along

-you made him realize that there was more to life than discovering the unknown- that there was a lot of value in what he already had. he made you think more about your existence in the walls. you challenged each other

-within a year of meeting, you were married. you decided that if you were determined to be in a relationship, it was best that you went all in since time might end up being short

-married life with erwin doesn't always feel like married life. there's a lot of being alone for both of you while he's away on missions or in other districts for planning and other administrative tasks

-he sends you letters if he's away for more than a week. they are not very emotional letters and they don't ever detail anything specific about people, just events. but he is sure to tell you about the things he thinks you would enjoy the most- like how he saw a sunset that reminded him of one you watched together early in your relationship

-he's the type to be like "i'm not a romantic, but.." and then write something really gushy lol

-when he gets home, he likes to bake those cookies that are shaped like flowers with jam in the middle. he has mastered his family recipe for them. he feels like it's a nice way to show you how much he still cares about you after being away from home for so long

-when you're together, he tries to be very present with you. he enjoys cooking meals together and playing card games

-his love language is acts of service so he really wants to make you feel at ease when he's home because he's sure it stresses you out a lot when he isn't. he ends up doing a lot around the house, even if nothing really needs to be done. like especially on longer stretches of being home, he would start home improvement projects if there was nothing to clean or help with. somehow, he always finishes them even if it's at the expense of a decent night's sleep

-he has a home office, but he does his best to only do work after you've gone to sleep/before you wake up if it's his day off (this man is always working :( even if he doesn't have a deadline)

-you don't usually go out on the town. it's exhausting travelling as much as he does, so he likes to feel like he has a real home base and spend a lot of time there

-definitely "lets" you win arguments, but he still thinks you're wrong lol

-he is a bath man. like he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the tub if he has the time for it. he likes salts that help with soreness and he likes when you take them together so you can just talk about your day

-if you were part of something like a book club/knitting group/something where other women get together and do granny activities, erwin loves when you host. he is making cocktails/tea and hanging out with you all to get the latest gossip. he doesn't like to interact with too many of his coworkers bc he doesn't want to get attached lmao, but he loves knowing the neighborhood tea

-"ingrid, waiting for him to come to his senses is a waste of your time. you deserve someone who respects you." (needless to say, everyone loves him.)

-because of stuff like this, you aren't exactly secretly married. like your family and friends all know that you are married to the scouts' commander, they just know better than to run their mouth about it. erwin just never talks about his personal life at work

-his section commanders all know, but they were all super shocked to find out. everyone would have been up late working on a plan or something and he finally tells them to go home. someone would have asked a last minute question and he's like, "tomorrow. i'm late for dinner." and hange is the only one bold enough to be like, "haha, you got a secret wife or something?" and he just raises a thick eyebrow like "my wife isn't a secret."

-everyone was shook and waited for him to leave to talk about it and try to figure out the lore

-levi found out later, awhile after he joined the scouts when he heard everyone gossiping about you two. he pretended he didn't care but the man was shocked

-you might meet a few section commanders/captains over the years by picking him up at work for a date or eating lunch with him in his office when he's in the capital, but the introduction is always brief and it's never long enough for you to get to know anyone

-any day that you plan to visit him at work, he calls miche into his office beforehand and tells him that he's not allowed to sniff you in the event that you meet

-when erwin loses his arm and levi finds out, he's obviously pissed that he couldn't have been there to help, but all he ends up saying at first is "sucks for the mrs."

-when erwin comes home for the first time after this, he almost feels embarrassed that he can't be doing things on his own, and terrible that he can't do things for you like usual. tbh, he'd ve kind of aloof at first bc mans is avoidant, so you'd have to show him that you're not throwing in the towel

-it's a massive moment of vulnerability for him when you help him out with things that used to be second nature, like buttoning his shirt and writing. however, he spends a lot of time at home while he's healing and although there are some moments of tension, you grow together a lot

-hange would offhandedly mention you at the beginning of the events of season 3, like half joking and half curious. "you think erwin's wife is gonna leave him? he lost an arm and now he's in prison. that's gotta test the ol' vows."

-levi would glare at them in utter disbelief like ?? "honestly, shitty glasses. where do you get the nerve?" and sasha and connie would overhear and look at each other and just go off the rails trying to piece it all together, like trying to figure out if they missed signs or smth

-levi squad uses this as a distraction from the horrors of humanity within the walls :D

-overall, erwin values you and your relationship above any other relationship he has. he wants to protect you from getting attached to his coworkers because it's bad enough that you fell in love in the first place. he considers your relationship the most selfish and self indulgent thing he's taken part in, but he can't bring himself to feel remorse because you're impossible not to love and he wants you waiting for him when he gets home

#erwin fluff #erwin x reader #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #aot headcanon #erwin smith headcanons

[shewrites02]

The Crow's Nest | Zoro x Sanji |

Summary: Friends who sometimes cuddle... who are maybe in love

A/N: The setting is pre and post WCI so if you would like to avoid spoiler save this fic for later.

Request: Open

Word count: 8.1k

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

Two Months Before

The crows nest is quiet, illuminated only by the stars that gleam brightly in the open sky. Zoro can't help but let his mind wander in the deafening silence. Thinking of how he hadn't even realized how willfully he has settled into their routine, how he has become more fond of sleeping on this wooden floor than his bed in the men's quarter. Fears what the implications of such may mean for him in the long run.

"I'm starting to think you're waiting for me mossy." Sanji teases. He wears a boozy smile as he approaches.

Zoro recognizes the red tinge that extends from his cheeks to his ears . A telltale sign that the cook had decided to indulge in the cheap sake he swore tasted of rubbing alcohol.

"You came looking for me!" Zoro retorts.

Zoro can smell the alcohol lingering on the cook when he bends at the waist to meet his face. The sake still wet on his lips, as though he needed one last swig to work up the courage to search for the ex pirate hunter. Sanji reaches his hand out, incidentally grazing Zoro's cheek with his knuckles then flicks his earrings.

"And you're always where I need you. Uh, Marimo?" Sanji whispers.

Zoro does not respond, won't entertain the cook's theatrics when they both know why he came. Instead he grabs Sanji's wrist before he can stand upright then urges the cook to the floor with him. Sanji can't help but give into the swordsman's touch. The sly smile Zoro wears makes it seem as if he knows this too. Sanji sit's between the swordsman's legs, in the most elegant way he can in his inebriated state , then rests his head against Zoro's chest.

"I sleep better when you're here." Zoro confesses.

Not necessarily an admission of guilt, but an answer to Sanji's inquiries nonetheless. Zoro strokes his hand through Sanji's blonde locks. Knows how much the cook loves his hair to be played with. Sanji listens to the soft inhales and exhales of the swordsman's breaths, finding comfort in the way he can feel the marimo's chest rise and fall.

"I missed you... Over these two years." The cook says breaking the comfortable silence that had surrounded the two of them.

"Oh, yeah?"

"I don't think a day passed that I didn't think about you."

In spite of Sanji not being able to see him, the swordsman still shifts his gaze to stare at the stars. Zoro feels the second his heart stops as it skips a beat, the heat that threatens to display on his cheeks.

"I missed you too." Zoro confesses. The words fall so softly they threaten to get swept up in the breeze.

Sanji snuggles closer, resting his back further into Zoro's chest. He tightens the hold his arms have around the cook's shoulders in response. He can't help the content grin that settles on his lips. Decides it's the alcohol that has him reminiscing. Thinking of how he had waited two long years to feel this again. At home. Back where he belonged, surrounded by his found family. While the cook laid in his arms drifting in and out of his stupor, Zoro can't help but think how much better it feels than he imagined.

"You're so warm." Sanji mumbles.

"That why you always come searching for me curly?" Zoro whispered teasingly. His lips grazing over his ear softly. "Need the sake to tell me you want me to hold you? Can't ask nicely?..."

"You know I won't turn you away. "

"Fuck you!" Sanji buries his face in the swordsman's chest, Embarrassed to show him just how flustered his words made him. "I-I'm just drunk."

"Right curly." Zoro places a small kiss to the back of his head. "Just drunk."

One Month Before

"You fucking dumbass!" Sanji grumbles shoving his mittened hands underneath his armpit with the intent to warm them. The ice cold air reddens his pale skin despite the beanie and earmuffs he wears. "If you can't make it back why the fuck do you keep wandering off?"

"I could've made it back!" Zoro defends.

"You still couldn't make it back on your own if there wasn't a snow storm!" Sanji snarls.

He is relieved to see the swordsman alive opposed to an ice statue of himself. Although, he wishes the pirate had just an ounce of self awareness to admit that navigation will never be one of his strong suits. When asked how he had planned to find his way back to the sunny Zoro simply states he was going to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. When Sanji tries to explain it isn't that simple, that his tracks had been obscured by the ever present snowfall, Zoro just crosses his arms against his chest mumbling in objection.

"We're still lost!" Zoro grumbles.

The cold wet flurries fall down in blankets coating the parkas they both wear. The snowfall has quickened in pace since Sanji first found Zoro. What had started out as ankle high has grown to the pirates' shins , forcing them to plow through the cold with each step.

"Look dumbass!" Sanji points to what looks to be an inn up ahead. "We'll stop for the night. Hope that some of the snow melts by morning."

Sanji pushes the door to the room open with a deep exhale, feeling relief at having some solace from the blistering cold. Even in the absence of the breeze he feels the need to drag his hands up and down his jacket sleeves to feel the glorious heat of friction. Zoro wastes no time getting comfortable, stripping out his snow covered jacket then draping it on the back of the only chair before going to take off his boots.

"There's only one bed." Sanji announces as though he has just taken notice.

Zoro can't help the crooked smirk that appears consequently . There's a chuckle that threatens to morph into a full blown laugh stuck in his throat, but the swordsman swallows it when he sees the genuine stress the situation has brought the cook.

"What? Now we can't sleep together?" Zoro retorts.

The red tinge the cold has left on Sanji's face deepens to more of a crimson. His eyes dart around the room looking for something to settle on that wasn't Zoro and his intense stare.

The itty bitty room doesn't leave many options. Besides the lone cushioned antique chair Zoro was leaning against, the only other furniture that remained was: the bed centered on the wall to his left, a night stand beside it with a lamp, and a dark patterned rug beneath his feet. Sanji chooses the tattered rug.

He is almost surprised at the way his chest clenches at Zoro's words. The physical reaction at the mere implication of those habitual nights where he would drunkenly seek out the swordsman's comfort with only the stars as witnesses. When he would revel in how warm Marimo's body was against his and shelter in the safety he found cradled in his arms. The nights that never found their way to daybreak.

"It's- this is different." Sanji insists.

"Would you like me to get you a bottle of sake to make it easier?"

Zoro's lips curl into a smile that almost fools the cook into believing it's a sincere question. For a moment he considers the offer. Thinks the burn of the alcohol may mask the burn of his cheeks, but quickly dismisses the thought of allowing the swordsman anywhere near the snow unaccompanied.

Zoro allows the question to dissipate into the air when the cook doesn't answer. Decides crawling under the warmth of the covers was better than standing here arguing about a decision that in his mind had already been made.

"Y- You really don't mind?" Sanji asks.

"Cook." Zoro pushes his palm into the mattress, and extends his arm to lift his torso before glancing over at Sanji. "Get in the bed."

Sanji begins to unzip his jacket and allows it to rest alongside Zoro's on the dusty chair. A chill runs down his spine when he removes the beanie and earmuffs reminding him of just how much he despised the cold. With another rub up and down his shoulders Sanji approaches the bed and hesitantly lays beside the swordsman. Zoro takes this as a cue to turn off the bedside lamp that illuminated the room allowing the dark to engulf them.

Sanji tosses and turns in the hotel sheets, can't seem to get comfortable with this chill still in the air. He tries to be still, doesn't want to disturb the marimo next to him, but even now as he rubbed his ice cold feet together pulling the blankets tight to his chin, there was no relief.

"Are you cold?" Zoro finally asks the fidgety cook.

Sanji takes a moment to reply, trying to decipher if his restlessness had in fact come from the chill in the air or if it could be his proximity to the green haired pirate.

"Yeah."

Sanji can feel the mattress shift beneath him as Zoro rolls over to wrap his arm around him, drawing him into his chest before letting a sigh fall from his lips onto the back of Sanji's neck. The cook thinks it almost sounds like relief, but tries not to think much of it. Just thankful to have his added warmth to protect him from the cold.

"I- is this okay?" Zoro whispers. "it's just- you always say I'm warm."

The vibration of his voice reverberated through every bone in the cook's body. There's an uncertainty to the swordsman's whispers making him speak so gentle and sweet, a cadence Black Leg has never heard before. It leaves him wondering what he would have to do to hear the swordsman talk to him like this every night.

"Yeah." Sanji rests his hand on top of the swordsman's, trying to resist the urge to face him. To stop himself from burying his head in the space where Zoro's shoulder meets his neck and resting there for the night.

"This is okay."

Two Weeks Before

The sound of Brook's violin fills the open air, the Strawhats' singing carries their joyful cheers. Zoro can hear them from the crow's nest. He laughs at Luffy being the loudest when he clearly didn't know many of the words . The first mate is a little surprised that the sound of Nami telling the captain to shut up hasn't followed suit. He blames the copious amounts of alcohol flowing on the deck for her sudden tolerance.

Zoro hears the footsteps as they approach. Knows who's coming by the way they clack against the wood. The cook. He stands in the doorway with a tipsy grin. A cigarette hangs loosely in his mouth. He stops as though he is waiting for Zoro to invite him in. As if he doesn't want to intrude or interrupt. A politeness that seemed to only wake in the lonely hours of the night.

"Smoke break?" Zoro asks, giving the cook the permission he is so desperate for.

Sanji walks in stopping at the end of the marimo's sprawled legs. His silence forces the swordsman to open his eye to greet him. The cook has a hand behind his back . A sheepish smile adorns his face as he hesitantly rubs the back of his neck .

"I was looking for you."

Zoro frees his hands from behind his head to scoot up right against the wall. A bit suspicious of what the blonde may have hidden. Sanji takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself, then extends out his hand. A white box stares back at the swordsman. It takes him a moment to grasp it from Sanji, isn't quite sure if the gift is genuinely his or not. Inside the box was a couple bow tied bottles of sake, onigiri , and polish for his precious swords.

When Zoro's eye meets Sanji, the cook tries to discern the expression on his face. Isn't sure if it's bliss or disappointment that lingers in his eye. Then a crooked smile falls on Zoro's lips.

"You did all this for me?"

"Yeah, you always help me with groceries, it's a thank you."

Zoro hums, accepting the cook's explanation for now. He takes out a bottle of Sake and pops the cap off to take a chug. The crooked smirk he wears is a full smile when he feels how easily the liquor slides down his throat. The cook had splurged for the good sake, sick of the cheap crap he swears Zoro is too fond of. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the excess from his lips before extending the bottle out to Sanji, urging him to take a drink. When Black Leg grants his request Zoro clasps his wrist before he has an opportunity to draw it back.

"Stay with me."

Sanji's eyes soften as he melted into the swordsman's touch, like he has done every time. The cook complies with his orders, taking a seat beside Zoro. He then brings the bottle to his lips taking a swing, revels in the good pick he's made.

"No more cheap shit?" Zoro jokes noticing the blonde doesn't wince at the burn.

"God Marimo, it was time you elevate your taste."

Sanji passes the bottle back to Zoro. He notes the deep blush that's bloomed on the blonde's face. It's Zoro's turn to let out a boisterous laugh.

"How about you elevate your tolerance."

"I'm not a lightweight!" Sanji protest in return. Regardless of never having beat the allegations from any of his other crewmates. Zoro gives a complacent hum nudging Sanji to pass him the bottle.

The swordsman wraps his arms around the cook's shoulders to draw him closer. Sanji rests his head against Zoro's shoulder in response. The room has fallen quiet, only the sounds of their breaths can be heard. Zoro inches his hand over to rest on top of Sanji's, squeezing softly at the warmth of his skin against him. the swordsman is holding out. Waiting to see if the cook will ask the question one of them has to.

Sanji takes a big gulp from the bottle before passing it back to Zoro. His eyes shut close as if what he will do next might physically hurt him.

"Can I... Sit in your lap?" The cook whispers.

A smile graces Zoro's lips. He understands what the chef is asking, assumes that these words come easier than the ones he had expected.

"You know I won't turn you away. "

Sanji doesn't respond, just moves to position himself so he could lay comfortably in the swordsman's lap. Zoro wraps his arms around him, caressing his thumb along Sanji's arms. The cook lays staring up at him adoringly. Sanji reaches his hand out to rub the side of Zoro's face. When the ex pirate hunter looks down to meet his gaze , the cook looks away.

"Hey, curly." Zoro taps Sanji's cheek lightly to bring his eyes to him. "This gift wouldn't have anything to do with what I said at dinner a few nights ago, would it?"

"I already told you what it was for." Sanji scoffs.

"Yeah, yeah you did." Zoro chuckles. "Now I'm asking if you lied to me."

Laughs spilled from the galley out onto the deck of the sunny before dissolving into the breeze of the night. The Strawhats gather at the kitchen table , unable to pull themselves from the dinner conversation that had stretched way past the evening .

It had started when one of Robin's stories stumbled upon the mention of an ex. One who had bought her many of the lavish items she owned now. The crew had gone around the table, each sharing the best gifts they've received from a romantic partner.

"What about you Zoro?" Robin asked "What's the best gift you've ever gotten from a partner?"

Eyes fell on the swordsman expectantly. Zoro shrugged bringing the ale filled glass to his lips to take a drink. The silence answered for him.

"You've never been gifted anything?" Sanji asked with a mirthful smile plastered on his face.

Zoro felt the eyes more intently than he did before. Acutely aware everyone was awaiting his answer. The air suddenly felt warm against his clammy skin. His eyes glanced about deciding if he should be honest or not.

Zoro wasn't ashamed of his romantic inexperience . Didn't believe his lack of relationship history spoke to anything remotely relevant. He had been far too focused on his dream to get caught up in something so trivial as a relationship. But with the shit cook staring back at him- Zoro could already imagine the teasing he'd hear.

"They're isn't anyone in my past that I'd consider a partner." He answered truthfully.

His crewmates lingered on him, deciding if they'll accept his answer. Prior to coming to a consensus ,Sanji's head tilted back and he let out a boisterous laugh. The sound like screeching on a chalkboard to Zoro's ears.

"Damn Mosshead, don't tell me we're the only ones willing to put up with you."

"Curly..."

"Fine , fuck!" Sanji lets out an exasperated sigh. "I- I like the idea of being one of your firsts."

The confession makes Zoro's heart clench in a way he's unfamiliar with. He knows it is the liquor that coaxes the cook's confession but he also knows its truths that spill from his lips. Zoro doesn't know how to catch himself before he's leaning down. The instinctual movement of his body overrules his mind's objections. He is astonished to see the cook leaning forward to meet him, their lips crashing into each other.

Sanji clings fervidly to the swordsman's chest. An attempt to stabilize himself, dare the marimo consume him whole. Zoro kisses him as though his life depends on it. Searches for his breaths in the cook's lungs like he'd die in this moment where the two to separate. He cups the blonde's cheeks, not wanting to allow him an escape. won't let the end come before he's satiated his appetite.

"You can have all the firsts I have left to give." Zoro mumbles against his lips. There's a string of saliva that keeps them connected when they part. Zoro places his forehead against the cook's, smiling innocently.

"You know what that means right?" He asks. "You're mine now."

One week After

Nami wraps her arms fervently around Luffy's neck. He has no time to catch himself, brace, before they both crash to the ground. She cradles her head where the captain's shoulder meets his neck. Trying to hide her face from the rest of her crewmates. The sound of her cries reach their ears before her voice.

"I'm sorry." She clenches her eyes shut. "Sanji- he's gone."

The forest that was previously filled with cheers, only houses the sobs of the navigator. She gives Luffy one last tight squeeze, a silent plea, before she sits back on her heels to face her captain. Nami tries to use the back of her hands to stop her tears. Wiping at her face to no avail. The crew is silent. Knocked of the breath they would've used to gasp. The sounds of the doctor's cries come next as he begins to speak.

"We couldn't stop him." He sobs. "Luffy we're so sorry."

Zoro's heart threatens to rip free from his chest the way it thumps so violently. Sweat starts to bead at his brow while his hands get clammy. Gone? The cook? Zoro refused to believe it. Not when the two of them stand before him unharmed. There's a scowl involuntarily placed on his face, though the first mate doesn't do much to hide it.

"What do you mean?" Robin is the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "Nami, we need the details."

The navigator cries her way through the past eleven days on Zou. Ends with the circumstances of The cook's departure. Told how they implored Sanji to stay. Told him he didn't have to do it alone. But the cook was insistent it was his burden to bear. They looked at Luffy with broken eyes that spoke their apologies.

"I begged him not to leave us." Nami weeps. "Im s-"

"It's not your fault." Luffy pulls the navigator into his chest to reassure her. "I'm not disappointed."

When the two separate, the minks offer a private area to allow the newcomers to settle in. After excusing themselves from what seems to be an emotional reunion. Once in the privacy of the wooden walls Luffy inquires about the note, wants to read the words for himself.

I've gotta go see a woman. I'll be back'

Luffy hands the paper back to his navigator, having seen enough. Zoro snatches the note from Nami's hands before she has the opportunity to offer it. The paper trembles nervously between his fingers as if it's afraid of how the swordsman will react to its contents. Two sentences- Two. All the explanation he felt the crew was worthy of - That Zoro was worthy of. The intrusive thoughts force Zoro's hand before he has the chance to corral them. He crumples the paper to a ball and drops it to the floor.

"He said he's coming back." Frank says , although it comes out as more of a question. Looking to see if his words will assuage the grief his crewmates feel.

"He's not coming back." Zoro announces before walking out the door. Letting It slam close behind him. He can feel the rage swell in his chest, threatening to pop with the fragility of a water balloon. They had begged him to share what he had been told, tearful and desperate. Passionately pleading to help him. The cook chose to walk away. Not even Nami's tearful eyes swaying his decision.

"Are you okay?" Nami approaches cautiously with Luffy trailing behind her.

"He has a job on this crew and he fucking abandoned us!'

"We're going to get him back." Luffy chimes in, a reassuring grin rests on his lips.

"Fucking leave him." Zoro mutters. He plops on the forest floor allowing his back to rest against the tree behind him. "He can go. I don't care."

"No?" Nami holds up the crinkled ball that was formerly Sanji's note.

Zoro's gaze briefly lingers on the paper in her hand, before he shuts his eyes. His arms cross against his chest. He tucks his swords close to his side then turns his head forward. Nami huffs at his complete dismissal of her disguised as him feigning sleep. She drops the note to the floor rolling her eyes as she walks away.

"I know you're worried about him, you don't mean that." Luffy teases. The mirth in his tone deepens the frown on Zoro's face.

The captain knows nothing of what has transpired between his cook and his swordsman. Has no idea of the relationship they share outside of him. However, He does know that Zoro cares about Sanji. Despite his protests. So he would allow Zoro to wallow, feel his feelings under the guise of sleep. With that Luffy walks away.

Dark has fallen, and the marimo has yet to move. Still laid against the tree outside their private residence. Arms behind his head with his legs extended out in front of him. Usopp and Luffy have both come to urge the swordsman to come join them at the fest. Spoke of the generous display the minks have laid out for them in hopes to sway him. Said there's enough liquor for the swordsman to drink his weight in sake. He does not leave. The idea of celebrating while Sanji was going through god knows makes him nauseous.

"Still not sleeping?" Robin asks.

"Hard to fall asleep when I keep getting interrupted."

"My apologies." She giggles. "I just came to bring you these."

The swordsman opens his eye to finally address his crewmate. Her blossomed arms carry barrels of sake . She wears an innocent smile on her face , but Zoro sees the grief behind her eyes. Understands it's the heartache that has motivated her actions. She drops the barrels alongside the pirate then gives him a wave goodbye.

The first sip burns wonderfully down his throat. Relaxes his shoulders, though he didn't know he was tensing them. He wishes it would settle his thoughts in the same way. Stop the montage of the nights he and the cook shared cuddling in the crow's nest. The sweet words Sanji would let besottedly fall from his lips when only Zoro could hear. They all haunt him so vividly.

Zoro wonders what memories may accompany the name the cook has never spoken- what about "Vinsmoke" made Sanji so secretive. Made him so willing to abandon him. The thought plagues Zoro's heart. The cook is out there going through this alone, when Zoro would've stood by his side raging the storm with him. He wants to consider the pain Sanji must be feeling having had to walk away from his friends so abruptly, but all Zoro's body gives him is rage. That shitty cook. He never had to do it alone. Why couldn't he wait for him?

Three Weeks After

Sanji forgot how just the sight of his kitchen could bring his heart so much comfort. Likens the feeling to his return to Sabaody, though he had much rather be returning from Momoiro island than his obligatory family reunion. While he glides his knife against the chopping board, preparing for tomorrow's breakfast, the cook can't help but stare at the banded indentations on his wrist. A parting gift from the Vinsmokes. He swallows hard, squeezing his eyes closed as if forcefully pushing the memories of the gold bands from his brain.

"Straight to work your first night back cook?" Robin asked as she walks into the galley. Two books tucked under her arm as she retreats from the deck.

"Having a captain like Luffy doesn't leave much of a choice." The cook chuckles.

"Nonetheless, it's good to see you where you belong- Oh."

Robin's eyebrows raise to her temples. She reaches for one of the books beneath her arm then sprawls it open on the counter for Sanji to see. The book has a large rectangular sized cavity in the center, bordered by jagged edges from the roughly hollowed out paper. The cavity houses a bottle of booze. Sanji recognizes the green bow that's tied around its neck. the bow he had tied around the neck.

Sanji looks up at the archeologist through his hair, fearful of what his expression may give away if he were to address her head on. Still Robin wears a sincere smile, her eyes free of any ill will or malevolence.

"Apparently the swordsman has hid booze all over the Sunny, I found this in the library." She slides the book toward Sanji before continuing. "Maybe you could return this to him for me."

"W-why would you assume I know where that dumbass Moss Ball is?"

"Well, Don't you?"

Sanji doesn't have to look in the mirror to see the blush that has bloomed on his face. His accelerated heart rate plus the sweatiness of his armpits are indicators enough of his embarrassment. Robin flashes the cook one last smile before turning on her heels to exit the kitchen. Sanji stares at the Sake bottle. Dares to open it and take a few sips just to settle his nerves. In the end the cook decides against it. Doesn't have the heart to sully a gift he bought for the swordsman. Instead he grasps the bottle by the neck, a heavy sigh falling from his lips then departs the galley.

-

When Sanji reaches the Crow's nest the pirate is exactly where he thought he would be. Back leaned against the wall, staring into the stars of the night sky. The cook is hesitant to walk in, doesn't know how to face the swordsman after the way he left.

"Cook." Zoro calls out.

He can sense the lingering presence of the chef outside the door. Usually the swordsman would allow him to simmer, wait and build the courage on his own to enter but Zoro had waited two long weeks to lay eyes on the cook. He would not wait any longer.

Sanji saunters in with the bottle in hand. His expression rid of any hesitation he may have had earlier. The sight of The mosshead waiting for him makes it impossible to contain his crooked grin. There was a moment where Sanji thought he'd never feel this again. Safe. Desired. Wanted. All the things the swordsman made him feel so effortlessly.

"Robin found something of yours." Sanji taunts.

Zoro doesn't waste time with their usual back and forth. Doesn't feign ignorance acting as if he wasn't sitting there waiting for the cook to seek him out. Waiting to accept whatever excuse he had conjured for his visit.

Zoro grasps Sanji's wrist before he can offer him the bottle. Pulls him forward until he bends at the waist to meet Zoro's face. The swordsman leans in to passionately place a kiss to Sanji lips, tangling his free hand in the blonde's strands fervently. The green haired pirate's grasp is tight on the cook, fearful he would run off again were he to let go. A silent ask to never leave him again.

When Zoro finally pulls away the chef inhales deeply. Attempting to fill his lungs of the air the swordsman has stripped him off. Doesn't know what to say now that he doesn't have the booze to grease his tongue. Sober mind fails him as he draws a blank.

"I'm so fucking pissed at you." Zoro whispers. His hold on the cook keeps him close enough to feel the breath of his words fall onto his cheeks. The chef tenses. "...But that can wait til the sun comes up."

Zoro draws the cook in for another kiss.

"I missed you."

Sanji has to blink back the tears that threaten to swell in his eyes. Part of him feels as though he doesn't deserve how tinderly the swordsman is handling him. how softly the words fall from his lips. Another part, a bigger part, revels in the warm welcome. Swells at the words of endearment, loved hearing that the marimo was happy to see him.

Sanji doesn't ask the swordsman permission, or wait for him to pull him down before he sits in between his legs. Zoro instinctively wraps his arm around Sanji's shoulder, his hold tighter than usual.

"You'll open that for me?" Zoro tilts his chin toward the bottle still tight in Sanji's grasp.

"Why did you keep the bow on?" Sanji asks as he pops the top off. "Especially if you were gonna hide it in the library, dumbass!"

"Why would I take it off?" Zoro's brows furrow into a frown. "You gave it to me like this."

Stated so simply like the cook should've come to the conclusion himself. Sanji can't help the chuckle that falls from his lips, in spite of his intention to scold the pirate. Then a thought dawns.

"Are the other bottles hidden too?"

Zoro doesn't answer, just takes a large gulp from the bottle .

Five weeks Later

"Do you think he's okay?" Usopp whispers to the navigator. They sit at the table, eyeing Sanji as he plates the food on the kitchen counter. She narrows her eyes to concentrate her focus on the seemingly normal cook.

"I don't know... This is the fifth big meal he's made in two weeks. Think he's stress cooking?" Nami responds.

"Well, that would explain why he spends every waking moment in here now." Usopp brings his hand to his chin, making a show of stroking it in thought. "You th-"

"He's fine." Zoro snaps before Usopp has the opportunity to continue.

The pair cease their gossiping, turning their tight lips toward the swordsman to display their disapproval of his tone. He cares none about hurting their feelings, is more concerned with their observations. If the cook's odd behavior has already begun to catch the eye of the others, he is worse off than Zoro had initially thought.

"Shrimp tempura!" Sanji announces replacing the empty platter on the table with the fresh one. Luffy lets out an excited squeal moving quickly to snatch the food as if someone is competing with him for it.

"This is so good Sanji!" The captain praises with a full mouth. "It's so good to have you back!"

"It really is Sanji. You've been feeding us so well since you've returned." Robin adds.

The others chime in with a chorus of complements. Sanji wears a shy grin on his lips.

"It's nothing guys, really. I'm glad you all are enjoying the food."

-

The cook shoves the sleeves of his blue button up to his elbows, preparing to face the hoard of dishes that remained from dinner.

"Do you want help?"

The swordsman grabs the clean dish towel off the counter, and stands to the left of the cook. Sanji passes over the freshly cleaned plate in response. For a short time the two work in silence. Slowly, but diligently chipping away at the pile. Regardless of the serenity, the green haired pirate's concern hangs in the air.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Sanji sighs.

Zoro gives a soft nod at his answer. The exact same answer he'd gotten the first time he asked the chef... and the second. Zoro doesn't mean to badger him, but he is watching how not fine the cook is with every passing day.

"The others think that you're stress cooking." Zoro states plainly. Though it's brief, He notes the way the cook's hands tense at his words before continuing to scrub away at the pot.

"I know that I've put you guys through a lot. I'm sorry about how you all had to find out about my family. Really, I'm sorry. " Sanji glances over with a crooked smile on his face. "But you guys don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm back. I'm fine."

Zoro takes the pot that Sanji hands over to him, the final of the pile.

"I have a bottle of sake... if you want to share." Zoro invites. The words are so gentle they risk not making it to the cook's ears. Zoro reaches for his hand, an attempt to draw him close, but Sanji pulls away before he has the opportunity. Fetching a dry towel for his wet hands to disguise the rejection.

"I think I'm going to call it a night." the cook declines.

Zoro can only identify the burning crushing feeling in his chest as anger. Maybe doesn't want to admit it's embarrassment. Despite the name, the pain stings the swordsman all the same. He takes a step back allowing space between the two of them. Waiting for Sanji to say something.

It is like the cook is frozen in time. Cowering in place. Speechless, not even able to meet the swordsman gaze.

Wordlessly, Zoro leaves to head to the crows nest.

-

Later that night, when Sanji pushes through the galley door he is surprised to see his kitchen already illuminated. Immediately gets a sinking filling that Luffy has tried to ravage the fridge again. Hopes that his captain hasn't settled on the pantry after releasing the cook has changed the password to the padlock... again.

Upon investigation he finds the swordsman laid across the couch , bow tied sake in hand, with his leg crossed over his bent knee.

"It's the middle of the night, shouldn't you be in your coveted crow's nest?"

"You want me to leave?" Zoro asks sarcastically, as if he was actually going to offer the cook a choice. Although Sanji ignores him, he continues to speak.

"You can't sleep."

It's not posed as a question. Does not linger to see if the cook will confirm or deny. It is fact as Zoro speaks it.

"You're watching me sleep now Mosshead?" Sanji lets out a dismissive laugh. "I'm fine."

Zoro narrows his eye at the cook then turns to stare up at the ceiling taking another swig of his sake. Sanji reaches for the cookbook on top of the fridge and begins to aimlessly flip through the pages.

Aside from Sanji's first night back, the two have not shared any more nights in the crow's nest. Instead Sanji lays in his single bed in the men's quarters. This Zoro could tolerate. If the cook had begun to favor his bed to the wooden floor in the crow's nest , Zoro could tolerate that. If there wasn't going to be any more drunken confessions, no more besottedly exchanged touches, or nights that turned into day too soon- The swordsman could tolerate that, but what he could not tolerate was watching how the cook deteriorates in front of him.

Zoro could hear how he tossed and turned throughout the night, till his muffled cries or light tremors woke him up.

The swordsman wonders what demons may haunt the cook's dreams, what kind of monster could send the cook into such a state of fear. Wants to show the cook that monsters can be slain, that he had earned the title of demon hunter for a reason.

"Are you having nightmares?" Zoro asks. "Is that why you can't sleep?"

"I know your ears work dumbass, didn't I just say I'm fine." Sanji barks.

Zoro sits up from his laid position. Using his forearm to wipe away the excess alcohol from his lips. He watches as Sanji aimlessly flips through the weathered pages. His hair has fallen in his face shielding his eyes from the swordsman.

"You're really not going to tell me anything..."

"Drop it Marimo!"

"Drop it-" Zoro sucks in through his teeth. "You're cooking all this food to just not eat yourself. You won't hang out with us, it's like you're always hiding in the kitchen... you won't even let me touch you!"

Sanji has to hold his body firm so as not to wince at the words Zoro tries incredibly hard not to shout at him. He can see it in his eye, Zoro's patience was thinning with each tug on his heart strings.

"Sanji..." Zoro pleads. His expression was stern, unwavering, desperate as he stared at the cook.

"I know I put you through a lot. I'm sorry about how you had to found out about my family, but you don-"

Zoro can't stop himself. The rage of hearing the cook mutter the same apology for the fourth time clouds his thoughts. The bottle he has clasped in his hands is flying through the air. It hits the wall with a loud crash before exploding into a million tiny pieces. There is a gaping hole Franky will have to repair in the morning.

"I don't give a fuck about that Sanji! The name Vinsmoke means nothing on this ship! " The swordsman has no restraint left to keep himself from yelling. "And don't you dare fucking say we don't have to worry about you."

Zoro sees the way Sanji flinches at his words. Notes how the cook retreats further away from him. His eyes glued to the floor as if the pirate would turn him to stone if they met. Zoro takes a deep breath running his right hand down his face. Guilt quickly replacing the rage he felt.

"I want to let you have your secrets Sanji. I really do." Zoro woefully professed. "But- why can you only trust me in the crows nest?"

"A few drunken nights don't make me your responsibility!"

"A few drunken nights?" Zoro repeats the words to be sure he heard them correctly. Wills the cook to correct him with imploring eyes.

"That's what I am to you? A few drunken nights."

In this moment, Zoro wants nothing more than to be able to say he couldn't have cared less about the marriage the cook was previously being forced into. Say that he was unmoved by Sanji's two sentence goodbye letter. That the cook's sudden disappearance hadn't completely disrupted his life in Zou. But no amount of lies could stop the grueling heat that starts to eat its way up his skin at the silence.

Zoro doesn't want to be angry, or hurt but as he stares at Sanji who can't even glance his way, that's all that he felt.

Six Weeks After

Something is off. Everyone could feel it. The uncomfortable air that envelops the sunny grows thicker day by day. A tension so pliable it could be cut with a butter knife.

Regardless of the sun that shines bright in the clear skies, Robin and Nami are the only two brave enough to take refuge on the deck. Zoro had isolated himself in the crow's nest with the excuse of an extensive training regime, spitting venom at those who dared to interrupt him. Sanji had found himself shrouded in the kitchen, frustratedly prepping for the day's meals. The others had dispersed amongst the ship trying their best to steer clear of the rivals. Fearing they too would get swept up in their clandestine conflict.

"Do you think they'll talk ?" Robin asks as She glances over at the navigator who sat in the chaise lounger beside her.

Nami is peering above the brim of her book ever so slightly to watch the swordsman approach the galley now that he has finally decided to leave the crows nest. She wonders, as the cook exits the kitchen, if this will be the moment that cracks their façade. Before she has an opportunity to relay her thoughts to Robin the chef collides with the swordsman.

Zoro stares at Sanji as if he is waiting for him to speak first. Like he is searching for an apology sufficient enough for more than an accidental bump. The cook takes a step back to create distance between them and no words leave his mouth. Zoro gives a disgruntled huff in response, not giving Sanji a second glance as he walks around him wordlessly. The cook looks back to get a glimpse of Zoro's shrinking figure then continues out the door rifling through his jacket pocket for a smoke.

Nami scoffed at the display, setting the book face down on the shared patio table. She drew in a sharp breath bringing her fingertips to pinch her nose at the bridge.

"They aren't even arguing..." She sighs.

"Well surely something must change. Even the captain is starting to notice." Robin warns.

It has almost been over a month since Sanji has returned to them. A month since he boarded the sunny and was met with gleeful smiles and heavy hearts. Even the swordsman had welcomed his return, but a different Sanji came home to them. Their vulnerable love sick cook was gone, and with him was his hidden affection for the swordsman.

-

Sanji glances back as the galley door opens. Luffy. The cook rolls his eyes then goes back to tending to his pots on the stove. He waits to hear the hunger pained whines of his captain asking when dinner is going to be ready. There is nothing. Instead Luffy stands beside him mindlessly staring into his skull.

"What?!" Sanji snaps.

"What's going on with you and Zoro?" Luffy asks bluntly, never one to have a skill for tact.

Sanji can feel the cascade of warmth beginning to spread across his skin at Luffy's interrogation. At the swordsman's mention. He brings the spoon to his lips to taste the broth, an attempt to buy time as his mind races as to what to tell his captain. Sanji had not wanted to lie to Luffy, saying that nothing was going on when the whole crew had been subjected to the consequences of his actions yet again. But there was no way the captain could grasp how loaded of a question he was asking. Sanji wasn't even sure he had an honest answer for Luffy.

"The dumbass is just mad. He'll get over it... We'll get over it." Sanji reassures, flashing a small smile as emphasis.

He hopes speaking the words aloud will manifest their existence. That there is a day in the future that the soft affection the swordsman's eye used to hold for him will return. That sweet words will yet again flow from Zoro's now venom coated voice. That Zoro will one day find it in his heart to forgive him.

Luffy looks unconvinced as he stares back at Sanji. His face displays neither a smile nor a frown . His brows neither raised nor furrowed. He just stares intently.

"Does it have to do with why there was a hole in the wall?"

"...yeah"

Sanji looks back, the evidence of him and Zoro's skirmish erased by the handy work of their shipwright.

"I need both of you to be king of the pirates."

Sanji nods understandingly. An order not a request to fix his transgressions against the swordsman. An order the cook does not know how or if he can fulfill.

-

Zoro's back is turned when the cook walks into the crows nest. The swordsman is staring out at the sea, watching how violently the waves crash into the sides of the ship as it storms. Zoro knows he is there, the smell of cigarette smoke always fills the air whenever the chef is near.

"What?" Zoro asks. There is no malice in his tone but the hidden affection that used to coat his words is gone.

"You want to know what happened... What they did to me?" Sanji asks.

There's a waiver in his voice Zoro doesn't recognize. He turns to face the cook, sees the tears that are swelling in his broken eyes. The shake in his voice the threat of succumbing to tears.

"You want to hear how Judge threw me in a cage with an iron mask over my face? How my siblings would come down to beat the shit out of me?" In spite of his efforts Sanji's tears stream down his cheeks. "How I'm the embarrassment of the Vinsmoke family? Too weak- A failure- Good for nothing, worthl-"

Zoro had started to stalk toward Sanji the moment tears coated his cheeks. The distance between them closed in time to prevent any more blasphemous words from falling from the cook's lips. Zoro pinches Sanji's cheeks tightly between his fingers, forcing his gaze to him.

"You are not worthless! You are not an embarrassment, weak, or a failure! " Zoro growls. The green haired pirate's brows furrow tightly toward the center of his face. " You were a kid who needed protecting! They should've protected you!"

Sanji looks at Zoro wide eyed, his curly brows raised to his temples. His eye scatters the pirate's face, as if searching for something hidden in his expression. Seemingly shocked that he can't find what he is looking for.

"I'm not asking you to relive old memories, Sanji. You don't have to rip open healed wounds to prove to me your bleeding. I know you aren't okay." Zoro drops his hands from the cook's cheeks to intertwine their fingers, drawing Sanji in until their chests meet each other. "...Let me protect you."

Zoro gives the cook's hand a tight squeeze before releasing his grasp to wrap his arms around Sanji's shoulders. Sanji holds him in return, wrapping around the ex bounty hunter's torso. Once Zoro feels the cook relax into his touch he lets out a sigh of relief. Didn't think he had it in him to get rejected by the man again.

"Sanji..." Zoro whispers. "I'm sorry that people made you feel like you don't matter, like you aren't special, when you are the reason the sun rises in the morning and the moon shines at night."

Sanji nestles his head into the swordsman's chest, shielding his face from view. Zoro can feel the moment his demeanor shifts, the second his armor crumbles down around him. Sanji clings fervidly to Marimo's chest and weeps. His sobs are quiet, reserved only for the ears of the first mate.

"I see them every time I close my eyes." The cook mumbles. "It's dark, cold. I'm all alone."

Zoro rests his cheek on top of the cook's head. Whispers a hushed "Shh" at his statements.

"You aren't alone. I'm right here."

Once Sanji's tears have slowed, and his breath has returned to his lungs he pulls slightly from the swordsman. He snakes a hand around the nape of Zoro's neck to draw him closer. Wants to be sure the swordsman can hear the next words to come out his mouth.

"I'm so sorry Zoro. You mean so much more to me than a few drunken nights." Sanji leans in to press his lips against Zoro's. "I love you... Please- don't leave me."

Sanji looks up to meet Zoro's gaze. His expression riddles with the affection the cook had longed to see again. the swordsman's lips upturned into a heartfelt smile

"I wouldn't dream of it curly." Zoro whispers, he pulls at Sanji to bring him in again. "I love you too."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a like and a comment if you did I'm actually begging lmao.

Also as I am aware many of you know, there is a genocide in Palestine right now, and many are fervidly trying to flee to safety. Families are trying to come up with $5,000+ per person just so they won't be killed. If you enjoyed this fic and are able I ask that check out any ways you can help:

Donate to Families (2)

Alaloul Family

Jana Alashi

Mohammed Abujamous

A guide in other ways to help

#one piece #zoro roronoa #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #zosan #sanji x zoro #zoro x sanji #one piece strawhats #one piece fanfiction #oneshot #whole cake arc #whole cake island

[xreader-writing]

Your versions | Ben Hargreeves

Sumarry – Ben Can't Understand What 'Old Ben' Had That He Doesn't.

Pairing – Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Umbrella!Reader | Word Count – 919

A/N – This has season 3 spoilers!♡ English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

"Why this sad face?" Kluas Says sitting at the table where Ben is.

"Why does Y/n hate me so much?" Ben says half drunk and Klaus scoffs.

"Why do you think?" Klaus laughs and Ben looks at the table where Y/n and five are.

"Did she hate the 'Other Ben' too?"

"Oh no, she loved him more than anything," Klaus says and takes a sip of champagne.

"But we're talking the 'Old Ben' isn't it." Ben says mockingly.

"Can you imagine how hard it is to lose someone twice?" Klaus says and Ben frowns.

"He died so young and they were so in love." Klaus smiles as he remembers the young couple.

"I could see him after he died and he would always say how much he wanted to touch her and how much he wanted to confess to her, but that was impossible." He smiles sadly.

"And now here we are, she's facing the love of her life but it's not him, can you imagine that?" Ben looks at Y/n's table again, who is downing a glass along with Five.

"Y/n is the best of us, so I wish you wouldn't hurt her." Klaus says patting Ben on the shoulder and leaving.

After those words from Klaus, Ben has to admit he got thoughtful after all, what the fuck did this "outher Ben" have that he doesn't?

So when Ben saw Y/n get up and go to the elevator, he saw the perfect chance to ask her directly.

"Wait!" Ben says putting his hand on the door so it doesn't close.

He looked at Y/n and she looked at him with a serious expression "I wonder if she looked at the 'other Ben' like that too."

"But of course not, he was perfect." He thinks aloud as he enters the elevator.

"What did you say?" Y/n serious question.

"Nothing, I didn't say anything." Ben says standing next to her.

He was a little drunk, but maybe not drunk enough to ask the questions he wanted to ask her.

Ben was so thoughtful that he didn't even notice when the elevator stopped and the doors opened, so he decided to follow Y/n as she exited the elevator.

"Why are you following me?" Y/n asks turning around sharply.

"I don't want to fight ok, I just want to talk" Ben says raising his hands in acknowledgment.

"I do not want to talk to you." Y/n says starting to walk again.

"I bet you wouldn't say that to your Ben." When Ben says that, Y/n stops walking, and turns to face him.

"Stop talking about him." She says seriously to him.

"Turns out he's me!" Ben says in a louder tone.

"No, you're not my Ben, my Ben always thought of everyone, my Ben didn't mind being fucking number one!" Ben looks puzzled at Y/n who is watering in his eyes.

Y/n sighs, running a hand over her face and sits on the floor and leans her head against the hallway wall.

"I'm sorry, I just…don't want to talk." She says closing her eyes.

Ben looks at her, and sighs too "Fuck it wasn't supposed to be like this." He thinks

Ben sits next to her with their shoulders almost touching.

"How... what was he like?" He'd asked this so many times, but he wanted to know her answer so badly.

"I think everyone has told you about him." Y/n says opening her eyes and looking at him.

"But I want to see your vision of him." Y/n looks down at her feet and smiles slightly.

"He was the best person I've ever met, I could say anything to him, and he would never judge me, and he always listened to me and...was always there." Y/n says with a choked voice.

Ben listens intently with a sad expression.

"He always asked how my day was, even though we were spending the day together." Y/n says and lets out a giggle wiping the tears with her hands.

Ben looks down at his feet, and all he can hear is Y/n's sniffles, and it hurts so bad.

"How…how was your day?" Ben says quietly and Y/n looks at him in surprise.

"You do not have to do this." She says looking at him.

"I want to do this, please just... let me do this." Y/n closes her eyes again smiling slightly.

"I think I had a bad day." Y/n says still with her eyes closed.

"I bet that Ben didn't help much." Ben says analyzing her face, and smiles to see her smile more.

"God, she's so beautiful."

"Oh he's not as bad as he looks." She says and the two laugh.

After a while of silence, Ben feels Y/n lean her head on his shoulder.

"I know I'm not your Ben but-" Ben starts but is interrupted by Y/n.

"Stop saying that, you are who you should be." Y/n says, and Ben feels his eyes water.

"I'm sure he loved you as much as you loved him." He says softly and Y/n smiles.

"I think I will always love all of your versions." Y/n says closing his eyes and Ben smiles more.

"Even the worst?"

"Mostly him"

#ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) - Chapter 2

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader nicknamed "Juni"

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I've had this idea in my head for well over a year and with the Fallout show being dropped (and absolutely AMAZING), I figured now was the time to post it! So this is a Triple Frontier/Fallout crossover au. Huge shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to probably hours of audio at this point of me talking myself through this fic. And to @deathbecomesnerds for listening to me prattle on about video game fics and giving me her own advice.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I Don’t Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) Masterlist

As my brain starts to wake up, the first thing I notice is that I'm cold. Like, really cold. The aches in my body feel like when you fall asleep and don't move the entire night, your muscles and bones stiff from a few hours of inactivity. How long does decontamination normally take? And why is it so cold?

Slowly, I pry my eyes open, blinking as rapidly as I can, feeling little icicles on my eyelashes. My head had been slumped to the side, the slight crick in my neck making itself known, the ache radiating down into my shoulder. I gasp, my lungs burning like they hadn't had a good breath in a long while. What the fuck was happening?

Slowly, I start to feel my limbs so I give my toes and fingers a little wiggle, managing to make them move. Then I work my way up my body. The more I can move, the more I start to panic. There's nowhere to move in this metal box. I weakly move my hand into a fist, pounding pathetically on the glass window in front of me. Oh God, what if it doesn't open? Isn't there someone who will open it?

Before I can spiral further, the door in front of me hisses and opens up with a loud groan, metal grinding against metal. I fall out, my hands coming up just in time to slow my fall as I slam against the hard floors. I cough, gasping for fresh air as my body starts to warm up. I manage to get up and sit on my knees, chest still heaving as I take in gulps of air. Where are the labcoats? Surely they didn't forget about us?

My eyes start to focus and I stare at a point in front of me until my vision clears. I blink hard a few times before looking around, a nervous tension starting to ball itself up in my stomach. The room is dark, save for some emergency lighting. The paint on the walls is chipped, dust covering some of the machinery that I remember being bright and shiny. I look around, slowly standing to my feet when it hits me.

It's completely silent.

No hissing of the machinery, no beeping, no sounds of people. Nothing. I take a tentative step towards the machine next to mine, catching myself on the little computer panel as I stumble. Glancing up into the pod, I see someone in there, eyes closed, still, and silent. I tap a few buttons on the panel but nothing happens. I reach out and knock on the window but the person inside doesn't move. I repeat this process on every pod in the room and get the same results, my heart thumping, the rate increasing rapidly with every pod. No one is awake and judging by the lack of sound, I'm not sure they're even alive. Not anymore.

I shake my limbs out, working some of the final stiffness out of them. Where is everyone? Why hasn’t anyone come around to check on people? Surely there are systems in place for this? I cautiously approach the door to the room. To my surprise, it's already open. I pop my head out and look in the hallway. Completely empty. I find another 5 rooms like the one I was in, every one exactly like mine. My body is fully awake by the last room, my breaths coming out quick and shallow to match my racing heart, panicked tears falling down my cheeks that I furiously try to wipe away. Am I the only one left alive?

Through my increasing panic, I finally find a computer not attached to a pod and somehow, it's still on. I sit in the chair and wipe at my eyes with my sleeve. I click around and am surprised it wasn't better locked down. The scientist that used it kept a very detailed journal of what happened. I read all of the entries, my heart sinking and blood boiling with every new one.

Apparently, they were not decontamination chambers but cryo ones. As in they froze us. Which would explain why it had been so cold. They were going to keep us under for varying degrees of time, to test the effects of cryo sleep on humans. Test? What the fuck? But they had only planned to be down here about 10 years or so. When it was reaching the end of those 10 years, rations started to dwindle and there was no communication with Vault-Tech outside of the vault they were in. People started to lose it. There was a mutiny and the Overseer was...wait did I read that right? Killed and fed to everyone still here? Eventually, it looks like everyone died and the generators were to continue on running until they couldn’t. The logs all say there was a malfunction in life support. So I was right - everyone except me is dead.

The feeling of being alone, completely alone, closes in on me, and oh my God what if I can’t get out of here? There’s no one here to let me out. I sit back in the chair, absolutely stunned at what I just read, my mind starting to spiral down a dark path. But...wait. If they froze us, and the mutiny had happened within 10 years...what year was it now?

I lean forward, clicking around to find the slot for a new entry and hit automatic date.

June 10th, 2277

That can't be right. I tap the button again.

June 10th, 2277.

I stare at the date. It's not the months that bother me but the year. 200 years have passed? This has to be a malfunction of the computer. There's no way that's the correct date. But something in the back of my mind tingles, a new feeling of dread deep in my gut. Benny. If it really has been 200 years, then even if he got to a vault and survived, there’s no way he’d be alive. Bile threatens to spill from me and I swallow, trying to prevent it. The computer is wrong, though. Benny is alive still. He has to be. 

I stand up and look down at the skeleton with a labcoat on the ground, wondering if that was the same man who had smiled creepily at me as I got into that frozen coffin. The bones are twisted into an inhuman shape, the arm bent at an odd angle. Right before I look away, I see it. The small computer wrapped around the skeleton’s arm. I kneel down, hesitating for a moment before reaching over, trying to pry the Pip Boy computer from around its forearm. It's like it's stuck on the bones and I gag a little as I slam the arm down, the hand bones scattering. But the Pip Boy slides right off.

I pick it up, dust it off a little with my hand and slide it onto my arm, feeling the slight pinch of the sensors embedding themselves into my skin. I turn a few buttons, having used one at the university when I was studying, and the screen lights up, my face washed in the familiar green glow, giving me some small bit of comfort in its familiarity. I navigate to the map section and it shows me the layout of the vault. Using the little light on the side of the Pip Boy, I follow the map towards the front of the vault, slowly making my way past debris and other corpses, some in very violent positions. One of them has their boney fingers wrapped around a large knife. A machete. Holding back another gag, I manage to pry it from the person's death grip, shifting it from hand to hand. I hold it in the opposite hand from the Pip Boy, just in case I need to swing. But surely nothing is down here, right? The vaults are sealed shut. So I should be safe. I think…I hope.

Everything is so fucking quiet it's almost deafening. I feel like the walls are closing in on me, trying to lock me away forever in this tomb, just like my fellow vault occupants. What was Vault Tec thinking?

I make it to the front entrance, the giant, heavy metal vault door securely closed. My eyes scan the room and land on a small control panel, more skeletons in labcoats scattered around it. I walk over to it, staring down at the simple panel. How the fuck does this work? I smash the big button but nothing happens. There's a round slot on the left side and I remember the Pip Boy has a sensor module. I pop out the sensor cord and plug it in, the panel lights immediately light up. A small sigh of relief escapes me. Thank God there's power! My Pip Boy lights up, telling me the remote door access is ready. But I hesitate before hitting the button again. Assuming this door opens, all I have is a machete. And if that computer is anywhere close to being right, I have no idea what the surface will even look like.

I unplug the Pip Boy and look around again, spotting a room off to the side labeled SECURITY. Thankfully, the door opens to a small room with a couple of desks and several lockers. A few of them don't open but others do and I'm quickly furnished with some sort of hand gun, a shot gun that I sling over my back, and some ammo. I also score a couple cans of purified water, some Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, a Salisbury Steak, and some Yum Yum Deviled Eggs. It's not much, but I'm better than I was. I just won't think about how old this food is, even if the computer is wrong. One of the dead security guards was holding a backpack. I take it, shake off some dust and find more ammo inside and another purified water. I put all the food and ammo into the bag and secure it, sliding it around my back, and moving the shotgun to my arm.

I decide to do one last sweep of the small vault before heading back to the main access vault door. I find a small blanket and an axe, along with another couple of boxes of food, half-eaten, and some old comics. Grognak the Barbarian. Benny loved these. Tears well in my eyes, that bile rising in the back of my throat at the idea of him being gone. I shake my head, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside, and slide the comics into my backpack. 

I repeat the process at the panel, with no hesitation in pressing the large, red button this time. The heavy metal of the round vault door groans, sparks flying from some of the unused gears helping the vault door to spin open, revealing the elevator we came down on. My mind flashes back to that moment, just barely escaping with our lives. It was mere minutes ago to me and I haven't really had a moment to process it. Any of this. I just need to get somewhere safe. Or at least familiar, to get my bearings.

I head down the walkway and hesitate for a moment before stepping onto the platform. I punch the button on the cage wall surrounding me and the gate door I came through closes. Slowly and with creaks and groans, the floor starts to rise, leaving the cage and vault behind. Again, I'm thrust into darkness for a short bit, my breath coming out in heavy pants. I'm not even sure if it's safe up here, but if I'd stayed down there I'd have died anyway so what does it matter?

Pure, blinding light breaks the darkness as I'm lifted up, the platform settling onto its original spot and locking in place. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the bright sun, momentarily blinded by it. I blink rapidly, squinting a bit more before things come into focus and now I have to blink back tears.

Destruction. Everything is sort of grey and leveled, some occasional muted green popping up in weird angles, like weeds coming through a sidewalk. I can see the skyline of Boston in the distance, the buildings mostly gone into piles of rubble or mostly rubble. Some still stand, like broken scraggly fingers that were too stubborn to fully fall. Benny had been there and if he survived, he was buried underneath all of that.

I tear my eyes away from the horror and turn to head back down the path that will lead me to my parent's home where I had been when....no. I can't think about that until I'm in a safe place. A faint, high-pitched squeak brings me from my dark thoughts and I turn just in time to see something fly at me. I react on instinct, trying to dodge but fall, the thing managing to clip my shoulder as it comes at me. I grip the machete tight in my hand and bring it up just as the world's biggest fucking roach jumps on me, its pinchers at least the length of my fingers, its body easily half the length of me. Its legs scramble as it screams, my machete having ripped through it. I yell as I push with all I can to move it off me, tossing it to the side as I scramble backward as fast as I can manage. What the fuck is that thing? It's still moving so I stand up and promptly kick its head in with my boot several times, continuing to do so long after it had stopped moving. My skin crawls as I look at the size of this thing.

Of course. Everything would've been radiated. Deer with two heads, giant fucking bugs, apparently. Weren’t roaches supposed to outlive us all, especially in the case of nuclear war? It only makes sense that mutations would've happened. But if this happened to roaches, what else has happened?

My body shudders at the thought and I tuck that one away for later. I yank my machete out of the giant fucking roach, flinging off its gooey guts and wiping it off in the dirt before starting back down the path. Fortunately, no other wildlife crosses my path as I step back onto the street that runs past my parent's house.

The neighborhood is...gone. Most of the houses are either completely destroyed or half crumbling, the previously perfectly manicured yards no longer exist. New plants have taken over, their foreign petals and colors intriguing the scientist side of me, but I keep my distance, not knowing what fresh hell they could bring upon humans.  Besides, that's not what I'm here for.

I turn and walk slowly down the street, my eyes sweeping from side to side. I spot movement and as my eyes focus on it, I nearly scream with excitement. I start to run towards it, almost crashing into the Mr. Handy robot that had been my family's.

"Hawthorne?" I gasp, my eyes wide with wonder.

His large metal head spins towards me, his round metal eye widening as he takes me in. "Ma'am? Miss Juni?"

I can't help but cry tears of joy. Something, someone that remembers me! For the first time since I woke in that vault turned tomb, I don’t feel alone.

"It's me! I can't believe you're still here!"

Hawthorne launches into a retelling of his time here, how the bombs pretty much destroyed most of Boston, how our fellow neighbors that didn't have a spot in the vaults died within hours of the initial blasts, although some took a few days. Others...I'm not sure what he's talking about. Ghouls? I’ll have to ask him more about that later. But then he's on another topic, discussing how hard it is to maintain the property for the last 200 years and how lonely he's been waiting for us and- wait. What?

"Hawthorne?"

"Ma'am?"

"I...I am sorry you had to deal with all of this alone."

"Thank you, ma'am. I do understand that humans are fragile things and had you remained with me, you would not have survived. I am very glad you did not die."

"Thank you, Hawthorne. I'm glad you're here too. But.. to confirm, did you say 200 years?

"Yes ma'am."

"200 years… since what?"

"Since the bombs fell, ma'am."

I can feel the blood drain from my face. "What's the date?"

"June 10th, 2277."

My legs start to wobble and I slump to the ground, putting my head in my hands as I rest my elbows on my bent legs. 200 years? I thought the computer had malfunctioned. But it all makes sense. The state of the vault, the way things look, that radroach thing...I feel my breathing picking up, hyperventilating as realization dawns on me.

I was right before. It doesn't matter if Benny made it to a vault. He would've lived a full life and died a long time ago.

The scream erupting from my throat is the last thing I remember before my vision fades to black.

When I wake, I'm in a bed. Well, on a mattress anyway. I look around without moving and realize I'm in my old bedroom, the one my parents never quite remade into anything else. Most of the walls are intact, only the one with the window is missing half the panels. And the roof only has a few holes in it. Nothing that Benny and I can't-

Benny.

I turn to my side just in time, throwing up whatever was in my stomach for the last 200 years onto the floor. But that's nothing compared to the hole in my chest, the one that ripped itself open at the realization that I would have to face this new, broken world without my other half, my anchor. My stomach doesn't settle, still churning at the thought, the tears pouring from my eyes as I curl into myself. I don't even say anything to Hawthorne as he comes in and cleans the mess, setting down one of the bottles of purified water and some snacks from my backpack on the cracked nightstand.

What's even the point of going on if I don't have him with me?

Unless….

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#benny miller #ben miller #fallout #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #triple frontier #garrett hedlund #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #crossover au

[sonicblueartist]

Idea! How about Bullfrog being reunited with Reader after he's freed from his execution? Wholesome reunion Q_Q

A/N: I love this one omg Also I'm making this a two part fic, if you don't mind~ It's getting a bit too long lol The next part will be much longer and will have the wholesome reunion I promise. But I'm doing this because I added a bit something~ We are rescuing him. (This part might be a bit cringe I'm so sorry for that.)

Bullfrog x h!reader

Warnings: heavhy spoiler warning, angst, panic attack, guns

Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Taglist: @blorbostation

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Execution

"Today also marks the beginning of the hearing of Bullfrog, Dolph Laserhawk's partner in crime. He's currently being held at the MegaCity 1 courthouse—"

The TV remote fell out of your hand. You were just about to change the channel. You didn't like Rayman's show at all, but…

"What the fuck? This has to be a joke." That was the first thing you uttered, your form shaking. Your mind still couldn't perceive the person whose picture you saw on TV.

"Bullfrog..." you muttered. It has to be a joke, r-right? A cruel, sick joke. He can't be caught.

Laserhawk? You heard about that guy before. The fuck Bullfrog been doing with him? Why didn't he tell you anything?!

After weeks of not even hearing from him... he shows up in your TV being announced to be caught?

Your weak legs couldn't be able to carry your weight anymore, you fell on your knees, your hands trying to support your body as you gasp for breath. God, no, please no. This can't be happening. He said he will be fine! The last time you saw him. He PROMISED!! He has to be fine! This has to be some kind of trick!!!

But you knew it wasn't. This time he was caught. You don't know how. But he did. And he is in trouble.

You shook your head, No. It's not gonna end like this. Not on your watch. "H-he needs help." You sniffed, and glared at the screen.

"And he will get one." This time you will be the one to help him out.

You quickly got up and rushed inside your room with a new found hope. You were hiding some guns and weapons that might be useful one day. You can’t know what would happen anytime if you are living with an assassin, right?

A plan forming in your head. Without wasting any time you picked up a bag and stuffed inside of it with weapons that could help you.

You paused, your hand hovered over the guns. You grunted, you don’t want to actually kill anyone. You only loaded your bag with an ax, electric shocks and tranquilizer guns. You shook your head, you never knew what could happen. You pick up the smallest of them all and stuff it in your bag.

You picked up your bag and rushed outside of your house. Let’s visit a court.

You stood outside of the building, observing it. You didn't need to since you were coming here you searched about literally everything about this place. Well, the best things could help you was the place's blueprints and guards routine. You knew they wouldn't let you get inside with your bag that easily. So you are gonna choose a bit more risky way to get in.

You approached the building. You were repeating inside your head to relax. At the entrance, you saw the security guards checking the people and their bags with a device. You reassure yourself that you got this. When it was your turn, you threw a small device you were holding in your palm at the device held by the security. This disabled his device.

"What are you here for?"

"My father have a hearing today. I can't miss it and I don't have much time to lose either. My little sister waiting for me back home." He nodded at that and quickly checked on your bag and your clothes. He nodded for you to walk pass. You thanked him and walked past him. You heaved a sigh. Now you just had to find the room where Bullfrog was being held captive.

You quickly and attentively searched around the court. After walking past a few rooms you find a corridor cleared out of people, and at the end of it two men were guarding a huge door. You stealthily watched them from the sidelines for a while and glared. Good. You found him.

You carefully turned around and glanced. Noone was there. Great. You pulled out your tranquilizer gun and pointed it at them. You hoped the accuracy lessons you've been studying all this time would pay off.

You shot one of them and before the other could react you quickly shot him too. You sighed in relief as both fell on the ground unconscious. You were actually really relieved.

You quickly rushed to their side. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have bothered bringing a gun. You could use their gun to free him right?

You decided to carry both of their bodies inside so as not to attract anyone's attention. You grabbed one of the man's hands and pulled him towards you, embracing him and opening the door with your shoulder and dragging him in. He was so heavy that the moment you stepped inside, you lost your balance and fell face down. The worst part was that you fell on the man you were dragging. When you realized you were face to face with him, you struggled not to yelp and immediately pulled yourself back in disgust. You rubbed your hands on your clothes.

You heard a muffled voice calling your name. Your eyes widen with the familiar accent. You glanced back inside. There he was being imprisoned in a transparent orange box. You jumped to your feet but before you could run up to him you paused and glanced at the mans scattered on the ground.

You stuttered out frustered and pointed a finger up, "Gimme a sec." Bullfrog watched you struggle while you carried both men inside, he was really impressed but that could be said another time. Right now he has other important things to discuss with you.

You dusted your hands and sighed when you were finally able to close the doors.

"Did you kill them?" He doubted you did but if you did his mind would be blown a bit more.

"Nah. They are sleeping. I shoot them with a tranquilizer gun." You showed him your gun with a grin.

He wasn't smiling, yes, he was happy to see you but not like this. "You shouldn't have come."

"And let them make you their little prisoner? You should have known better."

"You don't understand–"

"No, you don't understand. I'm trying to save you here. So, help me will ya? You might by any chance know the password?"

"Non…"

"Guess so… Now, lemme work." You opened your bag and pulled your ax out.

"If you get caught–"

"I will not–"

"If you do, I will never forgive myself."

You rolled your eyes and approached the password, maybe malfunctioning it could help, "And why is that? It was my choice to come to you."

"I don't want you to be here. It's dangerous."

You paused, your heart skipping a beat, "Don't you think I don't know that? I know the risks."

"I am sure you are aware, I'm just merely reminding you how bad it could be to be caught trying to help a 'terrorist' escape."

"I will help you escape no matter what." You growled and raised your ax.

"Don't do anything stupid before thinking–!!"

" 'Do not do anything that you will regret' Is this what you are trying to say?! I'm trying to save your ass here and you are dismissing it?! Just let me help you get out of this place! You saw how I got inside without getting caught! You think I am inept–"

"I will be executed soon." Your eyes widen. "I'm not questioning your skills or looking down on you, you know. I know my time is limited, I don't want to lush away but I don't have any choice. I'm really glad to see you, believe me. I didn't want to die without seeing you one last time. But you shouldn't be here. Go. If they catch you... I... I don't want them to hurt you because of me. Je t'aime—"

You quickly walk in front of him, "No, I don't want to listen to this. What you just said is even more reason for me to help you out! And.I.am.not.going.anywhere.until.you.are.freed. I don't care what they would do to me I would rather die trying to help you. If it meant to save you, I'll do anything. And if you talk nonsense like that again, I'll beat you myself when you get out of here. So, back to that hopeful and positive frog that I love, because this conversation is starting to bore me."

His eyes widened with that. A bittersweet smile forming on his lips and he chuckled weakly. He pressed his hand where yours pressing on the other side. "Je t'aime tellement."

You smile at that. Your grip tightened on your ax. "Now where were we?"

"I believe you were about to rescue me?"

You smirked, "Ah, yes." You walked towards the password and raised your ax, you cut the device in half and the electricity from it spread around. You turned around, expecting to see Bullfrog freed, but he was still imprisoned. You shook your head at this, "Okay that didn't work. We'll try another way."

"You don't have much time, mon amour. Be quick."

You gripped your ax and ran towards him. You swing the ax on it with all your strength, but you could only leave a scratch. You stepped back, out of breath, and immediately reached for your bag. You took out your stun gun and shot it with the highest voltage, but it didn't work. Your worries and fear were growing more and more. You looked at your bag, out of breath. There was nothing else you could use.

Bullfrog watched your despairing form, the little hope that had revived within him vanishing. A sad smile formed on his lips, as he hummed, "You know... I was stunned the moment I saw you carrying that man through the door. I really didn't expected it. I have to say I'm really impressed and proud. And while swinging that ax and shooting that gun… You looked really h—"

You perked up, "Gun! Wait! Wait! What if I use one of the soldier's guns? Would that damage this damn glass?"

He paused, "Uh, Je ne sais pas…"

You quickly went to the men and picked up their guns, "Okay, if this works… you might wanna step a bit aside."

He quickly walked back and pressed his back on the wall with a thumbs up.

You glared and started to shoot the guns towards the glass, nearly emptying the guns. But still no progress. You groaned in frustration. If guns doesn't work either what the fuck do you gonna do.

"What the fuck these things made off?" You scoffed. You throw the guns away.

"Maybe you should start thinking of going back before someone comes in." He hesitantly informed you.

"I said I am not going back and I will not. If I can't save you then… I'll wait the time with you." You sit beside him.

"Don't be like that, you still have a lot to do!"

"Well, none of that will matter if you are not by my side!"

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out of his mouth. He shook his head and sat down. After a few minutes of silence he sighed.

"What if I told you that there might be another way?"

You tiredly chuckled at that, "Uh-huh, Like what?"

"When they take me out of here, I will go to court and from there I will most likely be executed. This is much more dangerous and risky but—"

Your eyes widen, "Then you want me to save you?"

"Oui. You need a good plan and be cautious. And… you need to kill. I'm really sorry for forcing you something like this. But, I'm telling you this again, you don't have to."

You frowned but it quickly turned into a glare, "I will do it." You get up on your feet as he glances up at you. You smiled warmly at him.

"Wait for me."

"I will. Be careful."

You smiled with a new found hope and quickly got back to your bag, gathered your things and opened the door. You paused and glanced back at him. He pressed his hands on the wall with a smile, he shiled his hands around his mouth, huffed on the glass making a steam and drew a heart on it. You couldn't help but smile at that. You wave at him and carried the guards back and press them on the door along with their guns as if they fall asleep and quickly rush out of the corridor. Before you got out of the court you glanced back.

"I'll save you I promise."

#bullfrog x reader #bullfrog #captain lazerhawk spoilers #captain lazerhawk #reader #x reader #allenwrites #so sorry that I have to cut this part in half