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littlepadika · 3 years

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Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…

Rating: E (18+ only)

Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).

Masterlist here

AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.

Chapter Five

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.

He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.

You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.

You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.

Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?

“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.

“Hey. Is everything all right?”

“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”

“Who?”

“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”

“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.

“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.

“I let you down.” You said shakily.

“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”

His praise caused another wave of tears from you.

“Daddy…” You bawled.

“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”

“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.

“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”

You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.

“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”

“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.

“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”

“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.

“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.

“Silly.” You sniffled.

“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."

"I miss you, too."

"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.

"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."

"But it's the only thing left on the list!"

"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.

Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.

When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.

When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.

“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.

Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.

“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.

“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”

“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.

“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”

“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”

You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.

“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.

"Fuck. Hang on."

You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.

“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.

 “Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.

You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.

“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.

“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.

“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”

You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”

“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.

“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”

“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”

You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”

“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.

“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.

"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."

"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.

"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.

"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.

"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.

"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.

"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.

"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."

You nodded before drifting off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.

In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.

Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.

“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.

Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.

“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”

“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.

“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”

“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.

“What did I miss?”

“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.

“Our room, sweet pea.”

“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.

“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“

“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”

He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.

You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.

“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.

“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.

“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.

 “Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.

“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”

“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-

“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.

“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.

 “Here.” He handed it to you.

You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.

“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”

“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.

“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”

“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“

You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“The sun woke me up!”

“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.

“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.

“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.

“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”

“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“

“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”

“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”

“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”

“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”

“No I don’t!”

“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.

“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.

“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…

“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”

“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.

“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.

“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.

 You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.

“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.

You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.

“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”

“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.

“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.

“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”

You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.

“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”

You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.

“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"

"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.

"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.

“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.

Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.

"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.

"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."

"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.

"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.

Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.

Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.

“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.

“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.

“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.

“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.

“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.

“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”

“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.

“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.

“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”

“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”

“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.

“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.

“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”

“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.

“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.

“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.

“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”

As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.

“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.

“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.

“So… you and Frankie. “

“Yes.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.

“And it’s going well?”

“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.

“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”

“What thing?” You frowned.

“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.

“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.

“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”

"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.

“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”

“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”

“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”

“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”

“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”

“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.

“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.

“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.

“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”

“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”

“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.

“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."

“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”

“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.

“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.

Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .

“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.

“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.

“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”

“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…

“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.

“Mmm gonna mark me up?”

You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.

“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.

“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.

Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.

“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.

“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.

“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.

“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.

“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.

“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”

“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.

You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.

You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.

“Look at it, baby.”

You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.

“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.

“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”

“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"

“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.

“Leave it on.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.

Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #calling home series #daddy!frankie

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stray-kids-react · 3 years

Text

Sleepy but clingy SKZ

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° Bang Chan doesn't get a lot of sleep, he's gone days without it and usually just stays up working while your cuddled into him dead asleep.

° So when he is tired, you force him to sleep. Because he will complain when you try to pull him away from his laptop. Even though he's fallen asleep sitting up 5 times now.

° Chan is very cute when he's sleepy and it isn't often that you get to see it, his lips are pouted and eyes are practically closed. He also tends to lean onto you when walking to bed.

° You take a couple photos while he's sleeping because he's so cute, cheeks squished against the pillow as he shifts his face closer into it. And very pouty lips.

° Makes soft groans when you aren't near him, pulling you towards his bare chest. When you are next to him, he'll place your hands on his back so you can hold him.

° Usually a big spoon, but when he is very tired and needs sleep. He is an adorable little spoon who wants nothing more than to sleep and have you holding him.

Lee Know

° When Minho is tired he usually will just fall asleep in bed or on the nearest furniture whether you are there or not. But when he's sleepy and clingy, he'll need you with him.

° He only gets tired and clingy when he's had a bad day, his eyes will resemble a sad puppy and his lips are naturally very pouty. Then he'll just curl up into your arms.

° Likes it when you play with his hair, it makes him fall asleep faster and distracts him from the minor headache he has. He'll literally melt when you do this.

° Do not mention his clingy state to any member, or he won't cuddle you for a week. The members will tease him non stop and it embarrasses the hell out of him.

° He's not mad at you, he just gets embarrassed and is cautious doing any affection when he is rethinking his life choices at the moment.

° Even though he is labelled the savage member, he can't be mad at you. He sees you as an angel and is glad he has someone to hold him when he needs to be held.

Changbin

° Shy when you first began to date, but now he is very very clingy. He'll randomly walk up to you and just peck you hundreds of times before walking away like it's nothing.

° Can get a bit whiny when he's tired, begging to go to bed and cuddle him. It gets to the point where he doesn't care who hears him begging for your attention.

° When you finally give in, he'll murmur the softest 'thank you' before cuddling into your chest. He'll sigh in content once he is comfortable before falling asleep.

° Knows when you aren't with him, and will wake up instantly. Understands if you need to use the washroom or grab a drink/snack, but will complain if you just leave to leave.

° Tracing his jaw line will soothe him tremendously, he'll fall asleep in seconds. Changbin enjoys the feeling of your fingers against his skin, it is comforting to him.

° Once talked in his sleep lightly, whispering about how much he loves you and even mentioned how he wants to marry you. Whispering a small 'I do'.

Hyunjin

(Our prince is coming back soon!! ❤️❤️❤️)

° Clingy is his middle name, the only member more affectionate than him is Felix. And it's only because Minho slightly intimidates him.

° Will walk into your shared bedroom and just flop next to you, or gradually lean all of his weight onto you. He always greets you once he's comfortable, making you laugh.

° Will talk about how tired he is from the day while you stroke through his hair. If he isn't feeling talkative then he'll just lay there, enjoying your warmth and presence.

° Will fall asleep accidently most times, not wanting to sleep because he missed you but ends up doing so anyways because he is so tired. You understand nonetheless.

° Once wrapped himself around you during movie night with Stray Kids, and ended up missing the whole movie because he fell asleep on your shoulder during the opening.

° Will tease you if you are being clingy, but it doesn't last long since you remind him of all the times he clung to you and whined for your attention. Making him embarrassed.

Han

° When tired he zones out alot, you usually just hold him while he slumps into you and thinks about the creation of life itself. You'll sometimes laugh at how serious he looks.

° You can't get over how cute his cheeks are when squished against you or a pillow. It pouts his lips out and makes him look like an adorable soft baby because of it.

° Will fiddle with your fingers to try and stay awake, but it ends up soothing him at one point and he falls asleep anyways. His head will fall back onto you once he falls asleep.

° Will randomly ask you questions he was thinking about. Like 'why is blue called blue?' 'if I punch myself and cry, am I too strong or too weak?' 'what if unicorns are invisible?'

° Some of them do stick with you, so your up at 3am wondering why blue was called blue. But you won't tell him that since it will only encourage him to ask more questions.

° Likes to be the little spoon in general, and he will become more curled up when he is tired. Burrowing into your body as you hold him, he usually will fall asleep in seconds.

Felix

° The only differences between sleepy Felix and regular Felix is that he is quiet and is wearing pajamas, and the pajamas aren't a guarantee depending where he is.

° Felix is a naturally affectionate person who is impossible to dislike, he's a literal angel that makes you wonder how you ended up with him. But you are grateful that you did.

° Half of the time he will come home for work and whine until he finally reaches your embrace. Immediately letting out a content sigh as he turns into putty in your arms.

° The other half of the time is he will be waiting on the couch in a onesie, waiting for you to come home. Once you do he'll giggle softly and open his arms wide for you.

° Rubs his cheek against yours like a cat, and can't stop his smile from beaming brightly at your presence. Felix also has a habit of of burrowing into the crook of your neck.

° He'll fall asleep on top of you, whispering one last 'I love you' in his deep but now groggy voice. Resting his head on your shoulder as you fall asleep seconds later.

Seungmin

° Is probably the member who is the shyest when it comes to affection, no matter how long you two have been together. He prefers soft and short affectionate touches.

° His favorite type of PDA is hand holding, and when in private he will embrace you gently in bed. Usually being the bigger spoon, but isn't opposed to being little spoon.

° Will become more clingy when he is tired, wanting to go to bed with you very badly after a long day. He'll look at you while resting on your shoulder, waiting for you.

° Doesn't want to force you into a cuddle session, but will hint that he wants one to happen. You catch onto these hints eventually, but it can take some time.

° The main hints that you know are, cuddling on your lap, looking at you with puppy eyes, kissing your neck, rubbing your tummy, and talking about dreams that he's had.

° When you finally go to bed, he'll scoop you into his arms. Usually placing soft kissing on the top of your head, and whispering how much he appreciates you.

Jeongin

° Your usually more of the clingy one in the relationship, but there is a rare occasion where the roles reverse. And this happens the week he returns from tour.

° Jeongin will be exhausted from going nonstop and reaching his limit multiple times, but he'll be so happy to be back home and have you right there beside him.

° His eyes will be very sparkly when looking at you, just so happy to be back home with you. And he notices your blush when you see his gaze but is too tired to tease you on it.

° Will chat with you in a hushed tone, asking about how you were when he was gone and what you thought of the the performances you saw online. Tiredly smiling throughout.

° Smiles when you kiss him softly, missing the way your lips felt against his. He'll cup your face before resting his chin on top of your head as you curl into him.

° Falls asleep with you as his last thought, and his dreams continue his thoughts by making him imagine how truly beautiful you would look walking down the aisle.

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kindahoping4forever · 3 years

Text

My Drug Is My Baby // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone for your patience - I wrote and teased this story quite a while ago but I’ve unfortunately had some real life matters keeping me away from Tumblr. So it fits that I’m back with somewhat of a comfort fic (with a dirty edge because obviously) 😌. No big backstory, I was in a shitty mood, decided a horny smoke sesh in Ash’s backyard was the only cure and I wrote this surprisingly easily (for me). Thanks to @cal-puddies for assuring me that this wasn’t just a “me” fantasy (lol) and for cheering me on in the form of copious clown emojis in the comments section of Google Docs.🤡🤡🤡🤡

Warnings: A boyfriend!Ash fic featuring weed smoking, mention of masturbation and sex toys, dirty talk, brief manual and oral stimulation of a female, dry humping, cum play

Word count: 3300

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

You close your eyes, stretching out on the patio lounger and losing yourself in the music pouring from the bluetooth speaker on the table next to you. The cool night air blows across you and you surprise yourself with the volume of the pleased sigh you let out; it could just be the state you’re in but you swear it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

It’s only Tuesday but you’ve already absolutely had it with this week and all day the only thing you could think about was getting home, getting off and getting high. You’d hoped to tackle those last two items on your checklist with your boyfriend but just as you were pulling into the driveway, he texted saying he'd be home late.

You felt disappointed but adaptable and made a nice little evening for yourself: you ordered dinner from that Italian place only you like, indulged in a hot shower that went on for far too long and spent some quality time with your favorite vibrator. To close out your evening, you threw on your panties and one of Ashton's hoodies and headed out back to have a smoke in his “garden.”

It’s not much, just a few pots with flowers and vegetables, but he’s so fucking proud of it, especially since you’ve helped him spruce it up with string lights and furniture, you’ve come to love it as much as he does.

You sigh again as the breeze continues to tickle your skin and you wiggle your toes, trying to decide if your bare legs are actually chilly or if you're just sensitive from your high. You're pretty sure you saw a blanket by the door but that seems super far away right now so instead you just hug your knees to your chest and try to fit them inside your oversized sweatshirt.

"Thought I heard a party back here," a voice teases from across the yard.

You turn to look behind you, delight decorating your face. "I didn't hear the car pull up!" You consider running over to him and leaping into his arms but again, that seems like a lot of work so instead you just sit up on your knees, pucker your lips and wait.

Ashton chuckles, bounding over to plant a soft kiss to your impatient mouth. "Mmm, you taste sweet," he comments.

"Oh! I saved some for you," you exclaim, offering him the three-quarters eaten bag of kettle corn you've been snacking on.

He snorts and shakes his head but still dips inside for a handful. "Midnight snack in the garden and about 20 minutes ago I got five different messages that had no words but roughly three dozen kiss emojis… my love, are you high?" He spots your pipe on the table and turns it over in his hands, exaggeratedly inspecting.

"Why, you jealous?" You giggle as you swipe it back from him.

"A little," he laughs, running a hand over your face and grinning as you melt into his touch. "Had a bit of a day myself."

You pout at his statement, yanking him down into another kiss, mewling as his beard scratches your face. "I was thinkin’ about packing another bowl, come smoke with me, tell me about it,'' you insist.

“Planned on it when I heard you back here,” he smiles. “Might need to go in and grab us another snack though, evidently.”

You stick your tongue out at him. "Oh wow, you're right, I am super sweet," you observe distractedly, now happily licking your own lips.

Ash laughs joyfully, settling into the chaise opposite yours. You start off asking softball questions about each other’s day, wanting to save the bigger complaints for later, when the high can take the edge off. In between anecdotes, there’s that comfortable silence you always love falling into with him. The two of you are thinkers as well as talkers and sometimes you need to collect your thoughts before you launch into the next topic; you love that you both recognize and appreciate that need. You also love the chance to just observe your man, love watching his wheels turn as his mind works, love taking him in, marveling that he exists in your world.

Tonight you find yourself fascinated as he takes the supplies off the table and gets to work, fingers reaching into the stash jar to break off pieces of the bud, long hair falling in his face as he methodically loads them into the grinder. You can’t take your eyes off him, the metallic cylinder seeming to disappear in his large hands, veins becoming visible as he grips it, arms tensing and tattoos flexing as he twists, offering you a soft smile when he notices your gaze.

He stretches in his chair, trying to reach the pipe near you. It takes a minute to register that you should hand it to him, you’re caught up thinking about how big he looks leaning across the table, how his t-shirt pulling across his chest like that makes you want to bury your face in it, how warm it’d be, how safe and content you would feel.

Ashton gently says your name, breaking you from your reverie and gesturing towards the pipe.

You grab the glass piece and happily plop onto his chair to hand it to him, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. He chuckles at your eagerness, shifting to make room for you; he watches amusedly as you attempt to find a sitting position opposite him that is both comfortable and allows you to cover yourself with your hoodie.

“You know you’d probably be warmer if you didn’t come out here pantsless, baby.”

“You know I don’t believe in pants after 11pm, I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing,” you reply with playful indignance, looking up at him triumphantly as you successfully bring the sweatshirt down over your crossed legs.

He cackles as he packs the ground weed into the bowl; he nudges your knee, which you correctly assume is his way of asking for the lighter he knows is in your hoodie pocket. You hand it to him and watch as he lights up and starts to take his first couple hits.

You intended to pay more attention - admire his lips wrapping around the mouthpiece, his fingers flicking the lighter, let yourself be awed at how small your pipe looks in his hand - but you got distracted at the sight of his thick thighs as he sits cross-legged in his favorite basketball shorts. You think to yourself you don’t appreciate Ashton’s legs enough and reach out to tenderly rub your palms over them, humming contentedly when you find his skin as warm and comforting as you imagined.

“Baby...” He squeezes your hand on his thigh, refocusing your attention as smoke pours from his mouth. “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t ya?” You can tell by his sing-songy tone and goofy smile he’s already starting to relax.

“Been thinkin’ bout relaxing with you like this all day,” you say dreamily. He offers you the pipe and you take it, practically purring when he sneaks his hands inside your sweatshirt and strokes over your legs while you smoke like you did with him. “Just happy you’re home and here with me.”

Ash pulls you into a slow kiss, tongue moving in the same delicate pattern his fingers are tracing on your thighs. “I missed you too, baby,” he admits as he pulls away. “You know I try not to be a downer but it was one of those days where I couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better if we’d just shut off our alarms and stayed in bed together.”

“God, fucking same,” you commiserate, taking one more puff before passing the pipe back to him. “Tell me what happened.”

The two of you go back and forth trading stories, the pipe and every so often, a kiss. After a while, he decides to pack one more bowl and you lean back opposite him on the chair as he sets up again. You look at the stars, smiling to yourself as the combination of your high, the breeze and the sound of Ash quietly singing along to your playlist makes you shiver. Today was hard but if it’s what you had to go through to end up here in this moment? It was worth it.

You sit up on your elbows when you hear the spark of the lighter. You watch him take a long drag from the pipe and you’re not sure what it is but he just looks so goddamn beautiful, you find yourself overcome. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you crawl over to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

He giggles softly, sitting the pipe aside as you attach your mouth to his neck, giving him what could either be three hundred quick kisses or just three long ones, you’re not sure, your lips seem to be moving of their own accord and really all you’re thinking about in this moment is how much you wish the beard burn you’re feeling on your face was between your thighs.

“You good, baby?” He asks with a slight rasp in his voice, which you suspect is partly from his long day but also perhaps an indication he’s beginning to feel needy for you too. You take a detour to nip at his ear for a second before you kiss your way down his neck again; you work your mouth over the front and you moan when your tongue feels the vibrations of the soft moan he lets out.

You climb into his lap, straddling him and he stretches out his legs to accommodate you. You wrap yourself around him, in a kind of koala hug for a beat or two before quietly murmuring, “Been thinkin’ bout this all day too.” You offer him a deep, passionate kiss that tells him how much you need him, today, everyday and right now this fucking minute.

Ash waits for your lips to slow and then he pulls away, cradling your face, looking into your eyes, searching. His hazel eyes are gorgeous as always but blown wide from smoking; you know yours must look similar but you can tell he sees the love in them, can sense your hunger. He makes out with you for a few minutes, following your lead, waiting to see how far you want to take this.

Your kisses are becoming increasingly heated, increasingly filled with need and he decides to have a little fun with you. His hands run down your back and land on your ass, affectionately rubbing over your hoodie covered backside as he cheekily replies, “Thinking about me all day, huh? What exactly you been thinkin’ about all day?”

A naughty grin spreads across your face. You love playing this game with him. “Started this morning when I had to drag myself out of bed even though I had you naked next to me,” you start, leaning into another slow kiss before you pull back just slightly, staying close enough that your lips brush against his while you speak. “You looked so good when you told me goodbye, laying there half-asleep, cock more awake than you were. Wished I’d taken the time to slip you inside me, started off my day by feeling you get hard for me.” You begin grinding into his lap to emphasize your point.

Ashton licks over your lips, squeezing your ass approvingly as you move over him. “If you’d have done that, I guarantee neither of us would’ve left the house today,” he laughs sinfully. “What else, baby?”

Your hands brush over his bearded cheeks. “Every time I saw my reflection today I expected to see the marks your beard leaves - every weekend I just get so used to seeing my neck and chest so red… I miss it when we have to go back to reality,” you sigh, leaning back on your hands as you grind, exposing your neck, whining a little as he takes the bait and sucks a few spots on your skin, purposefully dragging his beard on you.

“Like that, baby?” He eggs you on, helping you ride him over his shorts, hands now roaming your ass over your panties, your hoodie having ridden up from your movements. “You want to know something I thought about today?” Suddenly his fingers are firmly gripping you and he gently lifts his hips up against your center, meeting your hips a few times to show you how hard you’ve made him.

You nod, gasping as you feel the swollen head of his cock rub directly over your clit, just two thin pieces of fabric separating you. Weed always makes you sensitive but you can’t believe how you can feel yourself already soaking through your underwear, making them feel even thinner than they already are.

You can tell Ash notices it too, his fingers moving down your ass, inching closer to your pussy, clearly having felt the wet spot you’re spreading on his shorts and wanting to feel it for himself. “Mind was wandering while I sat in traffic… thought about that time we got caught in that big jam driving home from the airport? Been so long since I’d seen you… you didn’t want to delay our reunion any longer so you started jerking me off right there,” he remembers, breath heavy.

For a brief second you think he might pick you up and take you inside, fuck you against the glass door or maybe on the table in the entryway. But instead he keeps moving his hips with yours, biting his lip as the friction builds. "Got so hard remembering your lips wrapping around my cock just as I started to cum… I was so sure someone was going to see us but you couldn't give less of a fuck… Jesus, baby, you're dripping." His fingers dance over the wetness that’s spread down to your thighs and you breathe his name as he stills and pulls your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds.

You brace yourself on his shoulders as he teases your clit. “Thought about you all day, Ash... was so ready to let you have me however you wanted as soon as I got home… but then you weren’t here… had to do it myself, think about you some more.” You’re not sure if you’re making sense but you’re so far gone you don’t really care and judging by the look on his face as he watches you grind into his hand, he doesn’t either.

“Saw your vibe on the nightstand, wondered what I’d missed out on,” he laughs, pressing your clit a few more times before bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. “Might have to ask for an encore performance, you know I love watchin’ you, baby.”

You feel his cock throb beneath you, as if to back up his claim. You groan and grip the tent in his shorts, pulling the material slack against him and squeezing, watching in awe as precum seeps through the fabric, leaving his bottoms almost as wet as yours. You can’t stop picturing how angry and red his cock must be from leaking like this; you decide you need to see it and pull him out of his shorts, whining when you see how shiny and wet he is for you.

You tap his cock on your clothed clit, rolling your hips over him, the both of you moaning at the motion. As good as it feels, it’s not enough and you push your panties to the side again and rub his tip directly against you, whimpering as he growls your name, his hands flying to your hips to keep you moving.

Ashton’s fingers dig into your skin as he holds you against him, thrusting steadily through your wet folds. In your hazy state, you have the briefest thought of slipping him inside you but you’re already sure you could cum from this and it’s just feeling so good… has anything ever felt this good? You don’t want to stop. As you slide your pussy over his length, you can feel every ridge, every vein, you swear you can even feel his pulse as you move against his cock. You can’t stop.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he pants, hips moving wildly now. He slaps your ass a couple times, partly hoping it’ll get you moving faster and partly hoping it’ll get you to cum sooner because he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. “Were you this soaked when you played with yourself earlier?”

You moan when you feel the sting of his palm. “Of course not,” you huff, nearing your end. “Nothing’s ever as good as when I’m with you… fuck Ash… love your cock so much, don’t even need it inside me to get off,” you ramble as you move eagerly on him. A few breathless whimpers later, you’re grabbing onto his shoulders as you cum and shake against him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” he groans, pushing through your wetness once more just as it gets to be too much. You feel his cock jump and then he’s shooting cum all across your pussy; you gasp when you feel the warmth of his release on your thighs, a stark contrast to your cool, exposed skin.

Ashton tries to keep his eyes open so he can watch himself cover you in rope after rope but between the noises you’re making and the relief of finishing, he has to let his head fall back in bliss. You lean over him, softly nibbling at his lips as he comes down.

“Hi,” you coo as his eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” he sighs, dazed.

“Think you ruined my panties,” you smirk.

Ash grins devilishly. “Is that a complaint?”

You coyly shrug and squeal as he suddenly presses the latch on the armrest, laying the chair flat, settling back to easily hoist you up over his face. You let out a desperate “Oh! Ash!” as his tongue licks you clean, eagerly moving across your folds and your thighs, mixing his cum with yours and swallowing it all down.

As he pulls away, he flicks over your clit a couple times, laughing warmly as you nearly jump out of his hold. “Relax, baby, I’m just playin’,” he soothes, pressing a soft peck to your pussy and each of your legs before moving you off of him.

Neither of you can seem to hold back the satisfied smiles painting your faces as you resituate yourselves: him putting his cock away and readjusting his chair, you peeling off your underwear and pulling your hoodie back down before crawling back into his arms.

You lay against his chest and the two of you bask in euphoric silence for a few minutes, curling into each other as the late night breeze picks up. You start to wonder what he’ll do if you fall asleep out here, when he reaches for the long-forgotten pipe, sparking the lighter to finish the bowl he started before you got frisky.

Your eyes meet as he pulls his hit and when he’s done, you press your lips to his, inviting him to pass the smoke from his mouth to yours. You easily finish off the bowl together like that and then you’re back on his chest again, sated and stoned.

“Sorry you had a shit day, love,” Ashton murmurs, pecking your forehead.

“Same… but it’s kinda funny to think that the shittiest days always seem to lead to some of my favorite nights with you,” you muse, softly sighing as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight.

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If you signed up and your name is crossed out or not listed, I was unable to tag you, please check your blog settings and either re-sign up or send me a message letting me know you allow mentions now)

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#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin fic #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #my drug is my baby #smut #thank you for reading!!!!#Feedback is appreciated #Reblogs (with or without tags - but tags are fun!) comments and asks would be a nice treat and distraction for me today lol #ok but fr tho i honestly have no idea where this fic came from like it just happened one day and i am not mad at it at ALL #these pwp experiments have been fun for me and I hope you're enjoying them too!#but don't worry if you're into my longform shit as well I've got a few things in the pipeline there as well #health willing i should be getting back to those soon so once again thank you for your patience #also no one asked but that pic in the graphic of Ash with the joint is probably in my top 5 fav pics of him 😍#shouts to Cass for signing off on that graphic even though it has the tangerine bag shirt which she is violently offended by like morally

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

I adore your qui gon and obi wan stuff so can we get a number 8 on the prompt list with obi wan and qui gon?

Absolutely!! I’m so glad you chose that one; I’ve loved every single prompt I’ve gotten but this one breaks the mold a little.

I hope this lives up to your expectations!

From this various prompts list.

When Qui-Gon Jinn set foot on the planet of Melida/Daan for the second time, he had a fixed set of expectations.

He expected to find the same war-torn, shattered homes and abused soil, the same decimated populations, the same stench of death. He expected to find the underground hideouts where the children hid from the wrath of their parents, and where the Melida plotted against the Daan and the Daan against the Melida. He expected to find a bruised and shame-faced former Jedi Padawan, ready to humble himself before the Council.

He expected to have to offer both comfort and stern reprimand to this child who, as much of a delight as he had once been, no longer deserved to be his apprentice.

And he did find some of that.

He also found fields of green grass, and abandoned fields of half-plucked vegetation and fruits.

A memorial garden.

A row of corpses covered neatly in cloths, lining the road, respectfully untouched.

Faded posters announcing committees and treaties and open elections, speeches and remembrance services.

A mural on a stone wall, somewhere between impressionist and abstract, of a line of children and adults, the children in the center. Towards the very middle, almost exactly so, was the image of a young boy with pale russet locks hanging an inch loose, and Qui-Gon paused, observing warily as if the image might come to life and attack him.

But it was only an image, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a wayward child.

And none of this is was going as anticipated.

The Jedi Master tried to recall what Yoda had told him before chivvying him out the door, but in truth he had not processed much of it aside from Obi-Wan’s name and the understanding that he had asked to be retrieved from Melida/Daan.

Why?

Clearly things had changed, immensely — and yet, in the background, the continued sound of bombs going off and weapons firing, and not a living being in sight.

Qui-Gon continued deeper into the core of the civilization, skirting the worst of the ruins but avoiding the main road in a passing effort to go unnoticed.

It did not last long.

“Master Jedi!” a voice hissed out suddenly, and Qui-Gon turned sharply to see a young man — maybe nineteen, at most — peering at him around the corner of the nearest building, pressed close to the wall. He gestured shortly and vanished.

Qui-Gon took a moment to cast out his senses. The Force bore no distinct warning, so he crossed the road quickly and ducked around the corner.

The young man was waiting for him. Up close it was clear that he was younger than he had appeared, perhaps seventeen, just emerging from the gangly limbs stage, and he was coated in dirt and grime — some of it oddly strategic, smeared across his cheekbones and the crown of his forehead, darkening and muting them. Dark hazel eyes considered Qui-Gon suspiciously.

“You were expecting me,” Qui-Gon stated.

The boy nodded. “I was. Obi-Wan said you would be arriving today, maybe tomorrow.”

A strange jolt ran through Qui-Gon. He had not said Obi-Wan’s name aloud himself, not since that day almost eight months before, and while he had heard other Jedi mention it, it was off-putting to hear this total stranger use it. So familiarly. Like he knew Kenobi well. Qui-Gon brushed the thoughts aside like so many cobwebs and spoke again: “Well, here I am. Where next?”

He did not say, ‘Where is Obi-Wan?’

For some reason, it would have felt like a confession.

The boy pressed his lips into a flat line, as if the Jedi had failed some sort of test. “…I’ll show you. Stick close to me and don’t do anything reckless. Stealth is our best ally right now. Only ally, really.”

Qui-Gon wondered what he was, then, since he was certainly not included in this mysterious “we.”

It was slightly insulting, and sharply painful, to be lectured on strategic maneuvers by what amounted to a child soldier.

Nevertheless, Qui-Gon followed him.

They wound their way through the settlement, bypassing craters where homes had stood and also far more intact buildings, still crisp and clean and bearing that unmistakable scent of newness.

These, more than any of the others, were painted with images of children and adults standing together, plastered with announcements, and more than one — many — almost all — featuring that flame-haired youth. More often than not he was framed closely by two others. Another boy, this one slightly taller and leaner with dark hair. And a girl, a little smaller, with bold waves and startling green eyes.

The boy with the dirty face turned his head to look at each of them, though he did not slow.

After what felt like a very long time, Qui-Gon found himself entering what seemed to be a cellar. It was dark and musty, but before he could question it, his guide went to a section of the wall and pushed, popping open a panel that sank away and slid to one side.

“This way,” he said unnecessarily.

In they went. It was a tunnel, low and long, and Qui-Gon had to stoop halfway just to move. The boy, several inches shorter, had less trouble.

A few minutes of breathless, blind stumbling later, and they reached a reinforced door.

The boy knocked slowly, then quickly; stopped, and then knocked rapidly again. “It’s me!” he called through the crevice. “He’s here.”

There was a grinding sound, and then the door swung open to reveal bright light. The boy slipped through without hesitation, but the Jedi Master was more wary, blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light before slowly entering the room, still bowed low from the tunnel.

When he rose, he was looking directly into the eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy had changed, and yet was exactly the same.

There was no other way to describe it.

He had certainly shot up an inch or so in height. His Jedi tunics were gone; he was wearing a stained white tunic of much poorer cloth and simpler cut, over a pair of patched brown trousers and sturdy boots. His robe was still the one he had worn when he had first arrived all those months ago, but he had sewn the sleeves so that they did not dangle over his wrists or hang wide and loose; instead they were drawn closer, but not so tight that they impeded his movement.

His hair seemed more coppery red than before as it hung loose and untidy, coming to slightly ragged ends halfway between his jawline and his shoulders. Some of the baby fat had melted away, driven off no doubt by stress and hunger and emotion, and his cheekbones stood out a little too much.

But it was his eyes that struck Qui-Gon.

They seemed exactly the same.

Pale blue-green, wide and friendly and innocent, sweet as they had been on the day they met.

Unbearably naive.

Those eyes flickered with shock for a moment, and then the boy stepped forward and offered out his hand. “Master Jinn,” he said.

Qui-Gon blinked. Perhaps if he waited a moment, Obi-Wan would remember that Jedi bowed? But the boy merely stared at him with his hand extended, and so Qui-Gon grasped it and shook briefly before letting go.

The boy did not seem particularly bothered. He turned to the rest of the room. “You’re all ready?”

“Yes,” came a chorus of voices.

Freed from the strangeness of Obi-Wan and his gaze, Qui-Gon looked around. There were several others present — all humans, all young, all grimy. Maybe a dozen or so in number. The room he was in was spacious, a little low-ceilinged and plain. It had the air of a bunker, with bright lights that aggravated the eyes and dull walls and functional furniture. Most notably, the enormous table in the center.

It was spread with maps, fliers, announcement posters, detailed blueprints for buildings and machinery, tidy sketches outlining strategies and countermeasures. Qui-Gon’s keen eyes caught words like ‘anti-terrorism,’ ‘knowledge is courage,’ ‘long-range missile launcher,’ and ‘riot activity.’ And, half-concealed under a map of Melida/Daan’s entire surface, a flat holo of three people. Obi-Wan. The dark-haired boy. The girl with green eyes.

“Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan’s voice broke into his observations.

They were all watching him with various degrees of mistrust.

Qui-Gon straightened his spine, and then forced himself to relax a little, trying to radiate comfort and honesty. Even without force sensitivity, they would be eased somewhat.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he assured them.

Kenobi exchanged a quick look with the boy who had guided him here, and the youth shrugged. “He was quick enough and he listened to what I said, but he’s like most adults. Thinking more in his head than paying attention, didn’t even ask my name.”

Qui-Gon started. He hadn’t, had he?

“I—” he began, but the youth cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

“You didn’t ask,” he said. “I’m not sharing now. I’m sure you’ll hear it eventually.”

Obi-Wan nodded as if this were perfectly reasonable. “Master Jinn, are you prepared to take all thirteen of us back to Coruscant?”

“What?” Qui-Gon demanded. He glanced around at the others, who looked even less impressed than before. He felt so unexpectedly out of his depth. What was this place? “I — no, I’m returning you to the Jedi, to the care of the High Council.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said placidly. “You’re not. I’m sure Master Yoda had his reasons for sending you—” the slightest emphasis on the word ‘you’—“but you are here to escort myself and the other twelve to the Core to appear before the Senate. That’s why you were assigned such a large ship. We’re going to make an appeal on behalf of Meldan.”

“Meldan?” Qui-Gon echoed.

“Our planet,” one of the others, a curly-haired, fierce-eyed woman of about twenty-two said. “Obi, are you sure about this? This isn’t at all what you said we could expect.”

“Master Jinn is an exception to many rules,” Obi-Wan told her; as he turned his head to look in her direction, he briefly seemed to change, the tension in his shoulders easing and his face alight with mischief. Then it was gone. He turned back to Qui-Gon, and beneath the veneer of professionalism could be glimpsed a strange aura of… something Qui-Gon couldn’t determine or define.

Their eyes met again, and silence fell for a moment.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan decided. “Yes, this will work. If any Jedi will help ensure you catch the attention of the Senate, it would be Master Jinn. Master Yoda also told me that Master Adi Gallia will be your official patron, which is good; she spends most of her time handling the political side of Jedi affairs.”

“Then we should go now,” said a small boy of no more than nine. “Let’s go!”

“Not just yet, Jocco,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, turning a gentle smile on the child. “We’re not quite ready. We’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Right,” Jocco said, nodding. “Okay.”

Obi-Wan smiled again. “All right, everyone. We have meals to eat and supplies to pack, so let’s keep together and keep organized. Sarai,” he nodded at the curly-haired woman, “and my friend,” a nod to the bitter-eyed nameless guide, “please bring Master Jinn up to speed. Master Jinn,” he added, glancing up from where the smallest children were flocking to his side and clinging to his hands, “I will see you in an hour.”

He left, surrounded by children both far younger and several years older than him, like adoring chicks following their mother, or maybe more like an honor guard. The contrast was both ludicrous and oddly touching.

“You listen to him,” Qui-Gon commented to his tight-lipped companions. “Even though he no longer carries the authority of a Jedi.”

“I haven’t seen any Jedi authority yet,” snapped back his unnamed guide. “Just three Jedi who came, two who left, and one who stayed.”

“It was not our mission to stay,” Qui-Gon replied calmly, tucking his hands inside his sleeves. “Though I can see what compelled him to.”

“Oh, can you?” said Sarai. She folded her arms tightly and assessed him, her lip curling. “I don’t think you see much past the end of your own nose.”

“Petty insults will get us nowhere,” he replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of said nose. “And it won’t help you when you speak for your people before the Senate.”

“Me?” an amused smile curled her lips. She looked as if all her suspicions had just been confirmed. “I won’t be speaking, not primarily anyways. I don’t have any governmental authority behind me, I’m just a secondary representative.”

“Same here,” said the young man.

“Governmental authority…? Then who is your speaker?” Qui-Gon asked, slightly bewildered.

“Are you blind?” said the young man. “Obi-Wan is the leader. Since the other two were assassinated, Obi-Wan is our only head of government.”

The next time Qui-Gon laid eyes on his former apprentice, it was mere minutes before their agreed departure time.

The children — Melida, Daan, none of them older than sixteen, aside from former Melida Sarai and former Daan who still refused to share his name — were all gathered next to a large reinforced bay door next to a small fleet of speeders.

Obi-Wan had one arm draped around the shoulders of a ten-year-old boy, murmuring instructions to him, and carrying the little toddler girl on his hip. She was playing with his hair contentedly, unbothered by the preparations going on around her.

If it had been strange to see Obi-Wan before, with his air of sameness-yet-differentness, it was doubly so now.

Knowing what he now knew.

Knowing that Obi-Wan Kenobi had accomplished what he had set out to do and reunited the Melida and the Daan with the help of a few middle-aged adults from both sides and the constant aid of his two companions, Cerasi and Nield. Knowing that he had been fairly elected alongside Cerasi and Nield as the Triumvers — the three Heads of State — of the newly named Meldan.

Knowing that they had been in the midst of Reconstruction both physical and emotional when a radical had betrayed them, murdering innocents gathered for discussions. How Cerasi had been murdered in her bed. How Nield had begun drumming up a military force, only to be assassinated — by a friend of the peace or a foe, who could say? How Obi-Wan had seen all his allies either killed or turn away, and had gathered all he could and retreated below ground, holding tight to his ideals and the legislative power that now backed him.

Knowing how he had continued to sow the seeds of freedom and diplomacy even as the people left above ground resorted again to violence. How he had nurtured genuine friendships among his people, even after having been betrayed.

And here he stood, not even fifteen, making children laugh and reassuring people older than him as he attempted to carry them to freedom and hope.

A government of war-veteran children, led by a former Jedi Padawan.

Qui-Gon watched as everyone was paired up, older teens with younger children, two to a speeder, until at last there was only one vehicle left and only himself and Kenobi still standing.

“I’m afraid I’ll be piloting,” the boy told him. “I’m familiar with the route.”

Qui-Gon swallowed away a bitter taste and merely nodded.

Obi-Wan swung himself up behind the controls, and Qui-Gon moved to sit behind him, and despite everything, despite knowing Obi-Wan’s history over the past eight months, despite being determined not to regard him as his Padawan ever again, it still felt wrong to sit behind. To let the child lead. To let the child sit behind the controls where any decent sniper would aim.

“Stick close and keep low!” Obi-Wan called out.

“Love you Obi!” the same tiny girl cried out from somewhere behind them on another speeder.

Qui-Gon didn’t know what he expected, if he expected anything at all in this strange parallel universe he had wandered into. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan turning his head to grin at the girl and calling back, “Love you too, Cler!” still surprised him.

And then they were off.

The children were clearly well trained, experienced. They seemed to know this back route by heart, undeterred by the semi-light of dusk, and keeping behind outcroppings of rock and trees as much as possible.

Obi-Wan glanced around periodically to check on the others, and every so often one of the others from the back of the parade would speed up to match his pace and give him the all-clear before falling back again.

The breathlessness of the moment settled somewhere in Qui-Gon’s chest. If he could put aside the emotional toll it was taking to sit behind his former student and see him not as a Jedi but as a war-tried planetary ruler, it was easier to be caught up in the rush. The fate of thousands depended on this race for freedom.

The former Jedi Master and Padawan maintained their lead, a slight gap between them and the others.

This served them all well when a blaster bolt came out of nowhere and struck Obi-Wan in his right shoulder, missing his chest only because he sensed it at the last second and twisted away.

There were screams from the smaller children; the older children reacted immediately, scattering their small fleet and engaging their weapons.

“There!” Qui-Gon cried, pointing to a ridge on their right where glimpses of people moving could be seen. His other hand was holding Obi-Wan upright.

“Are you all right to keep piloting?” he shouted.

“For a little while! Hold on, I have a plan!” Obi-Wan shouted back.

“Is it a good plan?”

“Hard to tell until I’ve done it!”

For a second it felt like it had been a year ago, or even better, both of them on the edge of adrenaline and serenity, grinning.

Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and deflected two more blaster shots, calling out warnings to the others within earshot.

A speeder went down.

A girl and boy were thrown several meters, crushing in the dust, clinging to one another as they rolled to a stop. On another speeder, Sarai yelled “Here!” and pulled up alongside Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, while Jocco stood up from behind her and leapt.

Qui-Gon’s heart shot to his throat.

But as he extended a hand and caught the child with the Force, Obi-Wan was already doing the same thing, drawing Jocco safely onto their speeder. Sarai, meanwhile, swung her speeder back around and parked it in front of the fallen one, shielding the injured two from view. She stood up on the seat and raised a blaster in each hand, lips twisted in a snarl. “Over here you bastards!” she screamed. “Like shooting at children? Give it your best shot!”

“She’s insane,” said Qui-Gon.

“She’s my second in command!” Obi-Wan laughed. “Now get ready! You’re taking the wheel!”

“What?”

Qui-Gon turned his head just in time to see Obi-Wan launch himself off of the moving speeder with reckless grace, executing a Force-augmented leap to land neatly on the ridge. “Kenobi! What are you doing?” Qui-Gon bellowed.

The boy didn’t respond. He had a blaster in his good hand and dropped out of view, directly onto the heads of the people concealed behind the rocks. There were yells; red light flared as weapons went off in rapid succession. Sarai took advantage of the distraction and urged the other two onto her speeder. “Go!” she said.

As soon as they were off, one of the other speeders erupted from the tree-line and swooped in front of her, slowing down enough to allow her to jump aboard behind two smaller children. “Good job kiddos,” Qui-Gon heard her say. Then she looked up at him. “Come on, we have to go!”

“But—Obi-Wan—” he said helplessly.

As he did, Obi-Wan reappeared at the crest of the ridge, a smoking hole in his trouser leg and a bloody furrow over one eye. He looked directly at Qui-Gon and mouthed, ‘Go! Take the others and run, now!’

Then he was gone again.

A pained look crossed Sarai’s face, but she glanced at Jocco sitting on his lap and smoothed it away at once. “He knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Now come on!”

They sped off, trailing dust and a broken wreck, following in the wake of the other speeders far ahead of them.

In the distance, the ship gleamed in the low light, a beacon for them to follow.

The others were waiting for them when they arrived, arranged defensively around the ship, protecting their only mode of transportation. The nameless boy was standing front and center, an adapted blaster rifle in his arms, looking ready to kill anyone who got too near. Jocco ran straight to him.

Sarai helped the other two down and began loading everyone onto the ship, which opened at Qui-Gon’s command.

He and the boy with the rifle waited.

And waited.

The sun set in earnest, and darkness fell.

And still they waited.

“Can you make your appeal to the Senate without him?” Qui-Gon said suddenly.

The young man whipped his head around to look at him. “What?”

“Can you make your appeal without Obi-Wan?”

He sneered. “In his absence, legal responsibility falls to Sarai and me. But it’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not.” Qui-Gon agreed.

There was a brief silence.

“Can you pilot this starship?”

“What?”

Qui-Gon did not repeat himself this time, and the young man’s eyes widened, his grip on his rifle slackening. “You… you want to stay. You want to stay and search for him.”

“You need to leave,” said Qui-Gon quietly. “Can you pilot this starship?”

“My name’s Radan,” the young man said brusquely, extending a grimy hand. “And yeah, between me and Kieln we can figure it out pretty quickly.”

“Good,” said Qui-Gon shaking his hand firmly. “As soon as you exit your first hyperspace jump, contact Master Yoda, it’s all programmed into the system. Tell him what happened.”

He looked again to the shadowed horizon, to the dark smudge several kilometers distant that was the stone ridge where he had last seen Obi-Wan.

“Tell him,” he paused. “…Tell him I am going to stay with my Padawan.”

Radan paused halfway up the ramp, turning to look back, a look of concern crossing his young face. “Even if he’s never going back to the Jedi?” he asked.

Qui-Gon hesitated.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? Obi-Wan is capable of making his own decisions.”

Qui-Gon turned back towards the horizon, towards Obi-Wan.

“But I will not leave him again.”

#ugh this boy #someone hug him he’s hurting #sir please your life is in mortal peril sit down #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #master & padawan #jedi apprentice #melida/daan #padawan obi wan #my writing #star wars #star wars fic #tw injury #tw blood #tw reference to child death

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romiantic · 3 years

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this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭

reading: black!fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

request: this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

a/n: I’m am SOOOO sorry for the wait sis 😭 but I really do hope you enjoy

Another one. For the past two hours, you’ve managed to break three scrunchies and your rat tail comb. You groaned in huge frustration, trying to figure out why your hair isn’t working out for you. “What the fuck?! Work with me, DAMN!” You harshly combed out your hair and SNAP! You brought back down the wide tooth and saw the comb snapped in half. In fury, you threw the comb across the room.

“This thing acting like I won’t shave it off and call it a day.” You complained out loud while pulling on your hair and trying to figure out what to do.

“Babyyy! Y/N!” What a relief! Your handsome, six foot two, volleyball playing boyfriend came into your shared home, happy to be home with his beautiful girlfriend. Typically you would yell back hello if you were busy or come into his large body and give him a tight hug as he tells you how his day went and give you multiple forehead kisses.

But today you didn’t. You haven’t left your vanity and glued yourself to your seat as out loudly cursed your hair. Seeing that you didn’t welcome him home, he looked around the house to see where you were until he met a frustrated you pulling at your hair. Bokuto was actually used to your bad hair days so he knew how to approach you whenever your hair didn’t feel like cooperating.

He put his bag down next to the couch and quietly crept into your shared bedroom. Instead of greeting you with loudness, he wanted to comfort you and distract you from the thing that was stressing you the most. He walked behind you and snaked his arm around your waist, giving you a soft hug as he softly said, “Hello y/n, did you miss me?”

You got scared at his touch but calmed down at the hearing of his soft voice talking to you. You slightly turned to face your boyfriend and smiled at his golden eyes trying to calm you down. You took a breather from all the stress and answered, “Of course Kotaro, why wouldn’t I miss you? You’ve been gone all day.”

“You seemed frustrated when I came and you didn’t say hello.” He curved a slight downward smile, “You didn’t even give me a hello hug, you always give me a hello hug.”

You sighed and kissed his cheek to reassure him, “I’m fine babe, it’s just that my hair is not working with me at all.” Bokuto looked at your hair then back at you, mentally solving how he can fix your hair problem.

DING! Something hit him and grew happy at his idea. He smiled widely and asked you, “Y/N can I do your hair? Please please pleaseee. The way you style your hair is so pretty and I wanna try it myself.” The man kept begging you until you finally agreed, “Okay okay Bokuto, you can do my hair. But fuck it up and you’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Don’t worry y/n, I got this.” Of course your boyfriend had confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing since he saw you do your hair literally almost every day. For date nights, games, work, any occasion, he would just sit on the bed and watch you work your ways on your hair until it becomes a masterpiece. Always leaving the white/black hair man in awe of what you can do with two hands. One of the great gifts of having a black girlfriend if he does say so himself.

You got off your chair and took a seat on the carpeted floor. While Bokuto went to go shower and put on a change of clothes cause he knows you don’t like having his sweat roaming the room. After, he took a seat at your vanity and looked at your hair supplies spreaded around. He thought about what style he should do on you, there’s so many to choose from and you would look good in all of them but which one?

You looked at him and saw a concerned look on him, you asked, “Something wrong Bo?”

“I don’t know what I wanna do, I mean what I can do to make my baby even prettier than she is now?” You lightly laughed at his compliment, and his thinking face that he had on.

Finally, a style came to mind, one that was simple yet he loved seeing you in it. Before starting, he collected all of the supplies that were needed and got to work on your hair. At first it was silence surrounding the two of you until Bokuto excitedly started talking about how practice went.

“Y/N you should’ve seen me at practice today! The way I was hitting those spikes was literal perfection, I barely missed any. Oh, we had this five-on-five game today and I got to be team captain.”

“It brought back old memories didn’t it?” You smiled at the memory of seeing Bokuto in his high school uniform, fulfilling his captain role, putting a smile on his team's faces for scoring, and being one of the greatest aces in Japan of course.

“Yup! Feels like old times when it would be Akaashi setting the ball for me and the great ace, that’s me, comes flying in, spiking it and getting another score. Now it’s Atsumu setting for me and Hinata cheering me on, I think Sakusa cheered for me too, don’t remember.”

“Last time I remember Sakusa cheered was when Hinata actually didn’t fuck up his quick attack with Atsumu.” You two laughed at the memory of Sakusa being somewhat excited at Hinata for not missing the ball or spiking it too late.

The conversation continued on about practice until Bokuto decided that it was your turn to speak. You spoke about it as Bokuto was all ears, listening to you, even though you were mostly cooped up in this house since it was your day off from work.

You stopped talking to take a peek at what your boyfriend was doing until he firmly pushed you back down on the carpet. He commented that you would ruin the process, he needs to focus, and that he wants you to wait until the end.

“But Bo-”

“Nope y/n, you have to wait.”

You furrowed your brows at him, “It’s my hair Kotaro, why can’t I see?”

“Trust the process y/n! Don’t you always do that with your hair?”

You let a ‘hmph’ and crossed your arms, “At least I get to see what I’m doing.”

Bokuto gave a wide smile to your grouchy face, “You’re gonna love it y/n, I promise.”

You peeped Bokuto grabbing rubber bands, giving you some ideas of what he could be up to. “And I’m holding you to that promise.”

To make time fly by, the two of you had random conversations that led into a whole nother topic than before. One minute you’re talking about getting new furniture then the next, you’re talking about the coral reef. At some point, you guys even had an odd conversation about weird habits that people do.

“Anddd done y/n.” Bokuto scooted back the chair and got up from it, giving you room to get up and take a look at your hair. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the work your boyfriend did. You were honestly caught by surprise that your boyfriend could do something like that with your hair. Styling it a large puff with black and white rubber band style going across.

Meanwhile, Bokuto was chewing his lip and getting nervous, wondering whether or not you liked it. He knew how much you loved your hair and he wouldn’t wanna do anything to mess up your beautiful curls/coils. “Do- do you like it y/n?”

You turned around, seeing your face lit up washed away his nerves and giving him a breath of relief. You immediately jumped on him, which caught him by surprise and made him lean back, landing on the bed with you still on him. You responded,”I love it Kotaro! You did such an amazing job and this style is bomb as hell, where did you learn how to do that?”

“After that failed attempt at doing your hair, your great boyfriend, that’s me, went on Youtube to learn how to do different hairstyles with your hair. I really loved this style and I spent hours learning it, but I say it was worth it.”

You smiled at his answer, it made you giddy inside that your boyfriend takes time out of his day to learn how to do your hair. Your hair! One that was definitely different from his natural spiked up hair. This kind of dedication made you fall in love with him even more than before.

You gave him a large smile and kissed him, “It was definitely worth it Bokuto cause I fucking love it. Plus I think it’s cute that you tried to match with the black and white rubber bands.”

“I’m so happy you love it y/n.”

You kissed his cheek and said, “I’m even more happy that I have a boyfriend like you.”

“Besides, what if we have a kid y/n? I can’t leave it to you to do all the work. I wanna have little daddy-daughter dates and do her hair while I’m showing her volleyball videos.”

You laughed at him, “You’re gonna stuff our future daughter’s brain with volleyball and make them say ‘One touch’ instead of ‘mama’. But I think that’s so sweet of you Bokuto.” You hugged your boyfriend and he hugged you back even tighter, “That and I didn’t like seeing my baby frustrated.”

“Next time my hair doesn’t cooperate, I’ll just call you for help.”

“Call me Bokuto, the great hair superhero!” You two laughed at the superhero name and shared the moment of happiness and content surrounding the two of you. Honestly, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend besides Kotaro Bokuto himself.

omg I finally finished it, wow I’m proud of myself

I haven’t written in a superrrr long time but hopefully I can get back and write regularly

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟐𝟕:𝟏𝟒 💗

#bokuto x black!reader #bokuto x black reader #haikyuu x black!reader #haikyuu x black reader #kotaro bokuto #x black reader #black y/n

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

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𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

You were currently locked inside a secret room in your mansion. Hongjoong specifically had it made for situations like this. Even though the possibilities of someone finding you were slim to none, you were still frightened. You just wanted Hongjoong to get there as fast as he could and comfort you.

As if on cue, the door opened and Hongjoong appeared. You immediately got up and held onto him as if your life depended on it, the tears you've been holding in now finally pouring out.

"Shhh calm down honey, it's ok. I'm here now, don't cry." Hongjoong ran his fingers through your hair in an effort to comfort you, get you to calm down.

"I was so scared. I kept thinking they'd find me and maybe harm me or our.."

You couldn't finish the last part, but Hongjoong knew what you meant when you placed a hand protectively around your baby bump. He smiled at you softly and put one of his hands on top of yours.

"I promised that I'd take care of you both and I'm not breaking that promise. Don't be scared anymore, I won't let anyone hurt either one of you."

°• ✾ •°𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪°• ✾ •°

Seonghwa was currently trying to discuss a possible merge with another gang. Things seemed to be going pretty well, both sides satisfied with what the other had to offer. They were finishing up details on the contract when one of Seonghwa's men burst in, interrupting the meeting.

"Sir! Your wife just called! Some enemy broke into your house!" The man exclaimed, trying hard to catch his breath.

Seonghwa completely forgot about the meeting. Not wanting to waste another second, he ordered his car to be ready as he ran out of the room, some protests and groaning heard from the other people in the room.

But Seonghwa didn't care. You and the child you were carrying were his top priority. That's how he went well above the speed limit so he could reach the house in time to save you. Once making sure you were both all right, he started packing a few things.

"I'm taking you to stay somewhere else. I'm not risking anything again."

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

At first, Yunho wasn't going to take the call, but when they told him it was you, he immediately took it, knowing you wouldn't interrupt a meeting if it wasn't an emergency.

"Baby? What's wrong? Is everything ok? Oh my god! Please don't tell me the baby is already on the way!" He kept rambling on.

"No, not that. However ..... we have a little problem..." You stated.

"What kind of problem?" Yunho asked.

"Well, I heard glass shattering in the living room, so I went to look-"

"You went to look?! What if it was someone breaking in?!" Yunho scolded you.

"Well you hit the nail on the head, it was someone breaking in." You sighed.

"What?! I'm on my way! Stay calm! I'll bring back up just in case." Yunho was already grabbing his car keys.

"Can you also bring one of the medical staff?" You asked kinda sheepishly.

"Why?! Are you hurt?! Is our baby hurt?!" Yunho felt like he was getting a heart attack.

"No....but the guy who broke in is. You see, I was in the kitchen, so before I went to check, I was holding a frying pan.... and I may or may not have hit him really hard on the head with it and....well he ain't moving." You confessed rather awkwardly.

Yunho stood silent on the other line, trying to process all of this. He didn't know whether to laugh or get mad or just continue freaking out.

"Well I guess it's good to know you can still defend yourself. I'm on my way."

He shook his head as he hung up.

"That girl is gonna be the death of me."

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

Yeosang kept fidgeting his finger on the armrest of his chair. He couldn't concentrate anymore on what was being said at the meeting. His mind was thinking about you, worrying about you and your baby's safety. He knew he could trust the men he sent to go help you out, but he was still worried about you. Perhaps he should have gone himself, he kept thinking that.

One of his men quietly came up to him and whispered.

"Your wife is safe. We found the intruder and we have locked him up. You have nothing else to worry about."

Yeosang released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He thanked the man before excusing himself from the meeting. He neglected you for too long. Upon seeing you, he ran to you and hugged you tightly.

"Thank God you're both all right!"

You could tell he was becoming emotional so you smiled to ease his worry.

"Yes, we're fine. Nothing happened." You assured him.

He took your hands in his and looked down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there myself..."

You leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"I trust you Yeosang, you know that. I know that even if it's not you personally, you'll still protect us no matter what. That's why I'm never scared." You confessed.

Yeosang felt immensely happy when you said that. He kissed your forehead and held your growing belly.

"Thank you for never doubting me or my love for you both."

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷°• ✾ •°

San burst into the house, not caring that he literally busted his own front door down. He signaled for his men to quietly search around, not wanting you to be more frightened than what you probably already were. He searched in your bedroom.

"Y/N?" He called out to you.

Slowly, you peeked out from underneath the bed.

"San?" You asked.

"Y/N! What the-"

He walked over and pulled you out.

"Out of all the places, you choose to hide underneath the bed? You could hurt yourself or our baby!" He began fussing around as he gently rubbed your barely visible bump.

"Oh relax. I'm not that far along yet, and leave me alone! I panicked and that's the nearest place I could think of." You pouted and crossed your arms.

San chuckled at how cute you were and cupped your cheeks.

"You're so adorable." He pecked your lips.

One of his men interrupted you two.

"Sir, perimeter is clear, no sign of any intruder anymore."

San's smile disappeared and was replaced by a scowl.

"Fine. Search for any clues that could give out their identity. Report back to me when you find something." He ordered.

"Right away sir."

San turned back to you, who was standing with a smirk.

"What?" He asked.

"Your duality seriously is no joke." You teased him.

San giggled and pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek repeatedly.

"I'm just really soft for you and our little jelly bean."

°• ✾ •°𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲°• ✾ •°

"Mingi! I think someone broke into the house!"

Your voice echoed through the entire room, as Mingi had put you on speaker.

"What?! What do you mean?!" He asked.

"There's a mess all over the living room and kitchen! The couch is ripped up and several furniture is turnt over!" You were shouting now.

"Oh my god! I just heard some shuffling..." Your voice suddenly went quiet.

"Baby....just stay down and we'll be there." Him and the other members were already getting their guns ready.

"I see something moving in the corner! It's still here! It's it's-"

"Just lock yourself in the safe room!" Mingi interrupted.

"It's a dog?" You suddenly said.

"What?" They all asked in unison.

"Yeah. It's a dog." You repeated.

"What kind of dog?! Does it have a collar?!" Yunho asked happily.

"I think it's a golden retriever, let me get closer."

"No! Don't get close to it! It could have rabies!" Mingi warned you.

Suddenly the sound of something falling was heard.

"Y/N! What happened?! Do I need to call animal control and put the dog down?!" Mingi asked frantically.

"No! Don't put it down!" Wooyoung begged.

Your giggles were heard, making everyone confused.

"It's licking my face! And he's so cute! Can we keep him?!" You squealed.

"If you say yes, can we help name it?!" San asked.

Mingi pinched the bridge of his forehead, trying to calm down.

"Well this was certainly a very entertaining meeting." Seonghwa laughed.

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

"So uh... don't freak out Wooyoung..." You started off.

"Oh no. Every time you tell me not to freak out, it's cause it's something worth freaking out about. So what is it?" He asked.

You sighed. "Ok. So while I was sleeping, someone broke into the house."

"What?! How?! Do you know who it was?!" He began asking, already gathering some people to go with him.

"No, I was sleeping." You calmly said.

"How could you have been sleeping?!" He exclaimed.

"Hey! Being pregnant makes me tired and when I'm asleep, I'm practically dead!" You defended yourself.

"Ok fine! But are you sure you didn't hear anything?" He asked.

You face palmed on the other end.

"Wooyoung... I told you! I was asleep! I didn't see or hear anything! I only know that someone broke in because the front door knob is broken." You responded.

"Ok that's it. I'm installing better security and hiring someone to watch you while you're sleeping since clearly, anyone can just come in then hurt you and you won't even notice till you're dead." He said, his voice raising 2 octaves.

"No! I won't be able to sleep if I know someone is watching me." You cringed.

"Fine. I'll watch over you and our baby then." He said decidedly.

"That's even worse!" You shouted.

"It's called making sure you're alive! Goddamit woman, stop being so difficult." He screamed back.

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

Jongho looked back and forth at you and the man currently tied up to a chair in front of you both.

"Run that by me again?" He asked, unable to believe your story.

"It's simple. I heard someone looking through some documents in the office, so I went to go check-"

"That was already a pretty stupid decision." Jongho cut you off.

You glared at him.

"I took a weapon with me!" You exclaimed.

"Yeah! The expensive vase that my mom gave to us on our anniversary!" Jongho gestured to the broken pieces of porcelain scattered around the floor.

"Well it was the closest thing I had in hand! Besides it worked! Knocked him out long enough for me to tie him up and wait for you to get here." You were actually proud of yourself for being able to handle the situation like you did. Jongho always said you were tiny and couldn't protect yourself, that's why you needed him.

Jongho sighed and looked back at the guy next to them.

"I mean.....I'd asked you to confirm her story, but I think you tied up basically sums it up."

The guy only nodded.

"Are you going to torture me now?" The man asked.

"Listen my man, you got knocked out by a tiny and pregnant woman, you a grown man. I think you've suffered enough humiliation for one day." Jongho snorted, but he was also proud of you for protecting yourself and your child.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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redridinnghood · 3 years

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How should I call it?💕 Part 1

Hello There,

I'm Back with a new Story, Story will contain more parts and be a bit slow burn.

You meet a man with a Addiction and other Problems. For example he doesn't have any Impulse Control. Can you work it out? Can you help him heal? Or will he be your End?

What happens when you meet a certain Chaotic blonde?

Polyam relationship between Rafe, JJ and Reader. Don't like, don't read.

(Y/N Pov)

The first time I met him it was a late Summer Night. Met is the wrong word, I found him lying in an Back alley behind some Fancy Club.

He was clearly under the Influence of some Drugs and Probably Drunk as Fuck. But I couldn´t just leave him there like that at three in the morning. Should I call an Ambulance? Shit but I couldn´t risk it to pay for it. On the other Hand he needed defiantly help. I let out a deep sigh. Y/N how do you get yourself always in such situations? Leaning down I check his pulse, it´s fast but not dangerously fast. His skin is hot nearly Burning and his breathing is uneven.

Gently I stroke his head. ”Hey Man wake up, you shouldn´t sleep here it’s Dangerous.” My Voice is soft, I know how People under the Influence can act out. He just slightly lifted his head he tried looking at me, he failed his Head rolled Back. His Long limbs splattering out on the Pavement. Dam it! “Can I call someone to pick you up?” Voice still soft. He shook his head slightly. No. “Okay that’s not a big Deal do you live anywhere near here? I could call you an Uber and bring you there.” My Voice sounded a little more desperate. He blinked slowly. “No..” his Voice was raspy and sounded worn out.

Again I sighed deep. I held my Hand out for him, “Come on Big Boy, you can crash at my place but I can´t carry you so you need to help me a little bit.” He blinked Again slowly he reached out to take my hand. As I got a grip I pulled him up at first into a sitting Position, scared he might throw up. I waited a few seconds than I helped him up on his feet. He stumbled into me but I managed to help him stay Upright.

He groaned, he was distressed, his Head spun and he is pretty worn out. Yeah I know how it feels being slightly overdosed, not from my own experience but from a few people I grew up with.

His body felt Hot and I could feel his shirt being drenched in his own sweat. He needed a shower and to take of his drenched clothes. Slowly I made my way towards the big Apartment complex dragging him with me. Thank God it wasn´t far away, finally we reached the building climbing up some stairs.

As I put my Keys into the door I felt him clinging to me as if his life depended on it. It kind of did, I mean this neighborhood isn´t peaceful. Isn´t good to people who fall asleep on the pavement. After a few moments of struggling with the door it finally opened. Gosh when will the Landlord finally repair those fucking doors. Carefully they made their Way into the small apartment. I placed him on the couch.

“Alright Big Boy, can you tell me your Name?” Voice Soft but louder than before. Blue eyes with giant orbs fixated me, Truthfully he was quite Handsome. “Rafe” I heard his hoarse Voice. “Okay” I smiled a little. “We need to get you out of those dirty Clothes. It would be best if you would take a Quick Cold Shower.” He nodded absently. I walked out of the small living room into my Bedroom, searching for a few clothes my best friend Luca always left here. It were just a pair of gray shorts and an old Band Shirt but that would do it, Just in case I put a pair of Boxer in the pile. Since Luca wouldn´t wear them again I could throw them Away. I walked back into the Living room handing him the Clothes.

“Here take those, and there is the Bathroom. It´s nothing special.” He nodded and took the clothes. Slowly like in slow motion he got up steading himself on the couch. Than he reached for the wall because he started stumbling a bit. “Don´t look the door in Case you faint and keep in Mind it should be a cold shower.” I said loud enough so he could hear me but not loud enough to be shouting. When I heard the Water in the shower I started preparing the couch for him. After I prepared the Couch I filled a big Cup with water and placed it on the small Table. I made myself a tea and waited in the Kitchen area for him to finish. As he walked by I could just confirm my statement.

He was Handsome, beautiful Face with storming blue Eyes, he was Tall and had Dirty Blonde hair. When he spotted me he looked at me intensely. I just smiled “You are ready, that’s good I prepared the Couch for you and some Water. I will hop in the shower next If you want I can throw your clothes into the washing machine.” He looked at me and nodded I took a deep inhale. “I hope the cold shower lifted the fog a little bit of your mind.” His Gaze softened. “Yes, thank you” his voice was still cracking and the small smile he gave me didn´t quite reach his eyes.

Giving him a small nod I disappeared into my small Bathroom. The old blue tiles were still a bit wet I looked around and found his small pile of clothes throwing it into the Machine with my clothes. Turning her on, on a short Program so she would be ready in 20 minutes. As I stepped into my shower letting the Hot water embrace me. So I started thinking. He doesn´t Look Poor, his clothes seem to be pretty expensive. So what is he doing here? And why did I help him, I mean yeah I couldn´t just left him there I mean I could have. Why didn´t I just called the Police? It didn´t matter anymore he would crash here tonight and be gone tomorrow. Leaving the shower I hop into an old shirt and some panties hanging up the freshly washed clothes.

As quietly as possible I walk down the apartment into the bedroom. Soft snores coming from the Man, so I stop and look at him. The way the slow sunrise aluminates his Body makes him look so peaceful so out of a fairytale. Realizing that I just stared at a Stranger while he slept I quickly kept going. Carefully I lay down in my Bed, its full of Pillows and I have a few Books laid out on the other side. Sleep came faster than expected.

(Rafe Pov)

A soft humming sound wakes me gently I open my Eyes. Where am I? This is not the new Mansion? Not the Hotel where I usually stay when I go out.

It´s a small living room with a weird combination of furniture but it looks Good. Kind of. It seems cozy. Slowly I sit up stretching out. Wait those are not my Clothes. What the actual fu��

“Good Morning Big Boy” I hear a soft Voice. Why does it sound so angelic? Turning around I spot a Young girl in the Kitchenette. It´s probably her apartment.

“Want some coffee?” she asks while turning around grabbing a cup. “Sure” I reply while standing up and walking towards her. As I reach her she hands me a Baby Blue Mug with Puppy´s on it. Really?

She smiles, a smile so pure I never seen before. “thanks” I answer as I take the Mug. “Milk is in the Fridge and Sugar there.” She points at a small Container. “You want some Breakfast? I suppose after your consumptions yesterday you are pretty Hungry.” She asks while I pour some sugar in the Mug. “ This would be really nice.” I give her a small smile. My Memories of yesterday are coming back slowly. Why did she take Me in? Rafe takes a moment to Look at her, really look an her.

She is small around 5`3 her (Y/H/C) is tied in a lose ponytail her Skin looks so smooth and her (Y/E/C) are trained on the food she´s making. She is not skinny but also Fat, She´s just Beautiful.

But at the same time I´m concerned, why did she took a stranger in? What if I had Lashed out on her? “ Thank you for Yesterday. I.. Honestly I´m really grateful but you could have gotten Hurt.” I swallow the Lump in my throat. “I could have Lashed out on you or something.” She hands me a plate with scrambled Eggs and some Toast. “Come let’s sit down and eat.” She just rounds me and sits down on the couch placing her plate on the small table and mentioning me to sit back down where I slept the last night. I obliged.

“Listen I´m Fine and that’s all that counts. You didn´t Lash out. You didn´t hurt me. And I couldn´t let you stay there.” Her Voice was genuine. It feels weird having someone so lovely not fearing me. Everyone fears me. “I.. Thank you.” I was dumbfounded she was right and I shouldn´t think about what if´s. Peacefully she sits next to me eating her Breakfast so I also start eating.

And oh my I never thought scrambled Eggs could taste so good. “This really good.” I smile at her, and she smile´s Back. “Thanks” she mumbles, she is cute.

Than it struck me I don´t even know her Name. “Hey.. um.. I think you didn´t tell me your Name…so.. What is your Name?” Why am I so Nervous. “ (Y/N). My Name is (Y/N)” I felt like my Heart skipped a beat the way she smiled and how soft her voice was. We ate the rest of our Breakfast in silence. It´s weird but I didn´t want this moment to end. I don´t know when it was the last time I felt so at ease. So content with myself. After Breakfast she handed me my Clothes and I changed. When it´s time to say goodbye and go our separate ways I find longing for staying. As if she could read my mind she hands me a small piece of paper. Confused I Look at her. “My Number. In case you need anything like a place to crash or something. Or just want to talk. I´m here.” Her gentle smile mesmerizes me and I can´t help it but embrace her in my arms hugging her. Carefully or she might break. “Thank you so much. I will defiantly reach out to you.” I say a little to enthuasstic. When I realise hear I hear a small giggle. I´m making my way down the stairs notifying my Dad I won´t be home for a few Days. Then massaging my dealer that I need some new Stuff.

After that I stare at the small pice of Paper, alright nothing to lose. It's late when I send her a Message, just a basic Hi.

#outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #jj maybank #jj outer banks #rafe obx #jjxreader #jj imagines #jj imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Note

4 // Coney Island for our boy Tyler

from the evermore prompt list

“The question pounds my head, What's a lifetime of achievement / If I pushed you to the edge?” - coney island

He couldn’t possibly be doing this.

As you and your three children, five and under, stood waiting in the hallway, you found yourself glancing at the clock hung on the wall every thirty seconds or so. With each minute that passed, the sinking within you opened up wider, threatening to swallow you whole.

Tyler should’ve been home by now. The game ended an hour and a half ago, and you and the kids had left the arena with a couple minutes left to ensure you’d make it home in time to pull off the surprise. The kids had burst through the door to grab the cards they had made earlier in the week, and you headed to the freezer to retrieve the cake you’d arranged to have sent all the way from Tyler’s favorite bakery in Brampton.

You sighed as you heard the kids excitedly buzzing around the first floor, wishing that you could feel even an inkling of the giddiness they had ahead of their father’s arrival. Things between you and Tyler had been strained for many months, and you had to battle your own bitterness to even acknowledge his birthday at all. You told yourself you were doing this for your kids. For the kids — not for him.

But as the clock neared 11 with no sign of Tyler, anxiety hummed within you. He had bailed countless times in the last few months — hell, in the last few years, if you were being honest with yourself. But today was his 35th birthday. The kids had been at school and daycare all day and hadn’t yet been able to give him the traditional birthday hugs and kisses that had become customary in your family since your oldest was born. He knew you were here waiting, the kids now long past their typical bedtimes.

There was just no way he could possibly do this.

Just as you were about to suggest that the kids head upstairs and put their pajamas on while they waited, your phone buzzed in your back pocket, the blood draining from your face as the hope drained from your heart.

The kids were still giggling and bouncing around, entertaining each other, blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing inside you. You took the opportunity to silently slip through the French doors into Tyler’s office to take the phone call.

Of course, it was him. You wondered what excuse he would carelessly toss your way this time around.

“Hello?” you answered, keeping your voice low.

In the background, you heard a commotion, jovial voices sounding like those of his teammates.

“Hey,” Tyler said dryly. “I, uh, I just wanted to let you know that some of the guys and I decided to hop a flight to Vegas tonight instead of going with the team tomorrow. So I won’t be coming home.”

You leaned against his desk and laughed humorlessly, switching your phone to the other ear.

“That’s great,” you breathed. “That’s just fucking... that’s fantastic, Tyler. Thank you for telling me now.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, this is why I don’t tell you shit,” he threw back. “I’m always the bad guy.”

Red hot rage boiled in your throat as you growled through gritted teeth, “Your children are waiting for you, Tyler.”

You heard him sigh, seeming to weigh what to say next. When he said nothing, you pushed. “What am I supposed to tell them? Huh? What would you like me to tell our kids, who have been waiting all day to see you and hug you and kiss you and eat birthday cake with you? Should I just tell them Daddy decided he’d rather go drink and gamble and party with his friends than come home to us?”

“No!” Tyler spat. “That’s not true. I—“

“Oh, it’s not?” you asked, your voice inadvertently rising. “Then tell me, Tyler, why the fuck are you doing it?”

You heard him draw a breath, expecting an immediate rebuttal, but instead you heard only his teammates calling for him.

“I have to go,” Tyler said, his voice raspy. “Tell the kids I love them and I’ll be home after the game tomorrow night.”

“You’re joking,” you huffed. “You’re really going to do this?”

As you spoke, tears brimmed in your eyes and you gazed across the dim room at your framed wedding photo that sat on the bookshelf. The two people in the picture looked like strangers to you now. You doubted you would ever know them again.

“I gotta go,” Tyler repeated in monotone. With that, he hung up.

Anger surged through you, and you allowed a few broken sobs to pass through your lips before shoving your phone in your pocket and swiping beneath your eyes to dry your tears. With a deep breath, you forced a smile and walked back into the hall.

“Mommy, where is Daddy?” your three-and-a-half year old daughter asked. You scooped her up and kissed her smooth cheek, devastated that Tyler could choose anything over these moments with your kids.

“You know what, Uncle Jamie asked Daddy to come with him early to Las Vegas to, um, to get in lots of good practice before they play the Golden Knights tomorrow night,” you told her as you smoothed your five-year-old son’s hair, the disappointment visible on the faces of these eldest two. “But, you know what? He told us to go ahead and have a slice of birthday cake before we go to bed. How does that sound?”

At that, they all cheered, even your newly two-year-old little boy, who clapped excitedly beside his brother, bringing a sad smile to your face.

“Can we still sing Happy Birfday?” your daughter asked, twirling your hair around her little hand affectionately and shattering you further.

You weren’t sure how much heartbreak you could handle at this point. You kissed the tip of her nose and nodded.

“Sure, baby,” you obliged, sniffling. “We can if you want to.”

_____

To some, it was sure to seem sudden.

To you, it seemed like it had been a long time coming.

When you heard the door slam and the dogs start barking, you knew the time for a reckoning had finally come.

“Hello?” Tyler called into the house, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. You didn’t bother to provide a reply.

Eventually, after you heard him drop his bags and greet the dogs, he climbed the stairs, and you hated the way your heart rate sped up automatically. He called your name, but again, you gave no response. He eventually found you in the bedroom, alone and silent.

“What are you doing?” Tyler asked, eyes scanning the suitcases lining the wall. “Where are the kids?”

You sighed, sitting back on your haunches and pausing folding your clothes.

“I’m packing, Tyler,” you answered, unable to look him in the eye. “The kids are in Fort Worth with my parents.”

“What do you mean, packing?” Tyler asked, brow furrowed as he took quick steps toward you. “Packing for what?”

You leaned back on your palms, rolling your head to try to ease the ever present tension in your neck, preparing for battle before slowly standing to your feet. You crossed your arms across your chest and found his startled gaze.

“Packing to leave, Tyler,” you answered, faking confidence. “Last night was the final nail in the coffin for me. I cannot, and will not, continue to do this to my children. To myself. I just, I won’t.”

Tyler’s eyes were wild as he came closer, grabbing your upper arms desperately.

“Baby, please, I don’t—“ he began, stuttering. “How can I fix this? How can I keep you here?”

You pried his fingers from your biceps and shot him an infuriated look.

“You know what would have been a good start?” you fumed. “Coming home to see your children on your birthday. Spending the night with your family instead of hopping a flight to Vegas. But Tyler, honestly, this has been over long before last night. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

As you moved past him to gather a bundle of your shoes from the closet, Tyler was hot on your heels.

“Listen,” Tyler said pleadingly, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. “I know things haven’t been good lately. But please, just... just don’t do this. Don’t do this to me.”

You spun around in a blur, the ice in your gaze freezing Tyler in place.

“Do this to you?” you scoffed. “What about our children, Tyler? What about me? Huh? Do you think I actually want to leave the father of my kids? Of course I fucking don’t. Never in a million years could I have thought that this would happen. But here we are. Living separate lives. It’s about fucking time I just make it official.”

Tyler was nearly panting now and he heard his heartbeat within his own ears, spinning his wheels as he wrestled with what to do, what to say, next. You pushed past him with a newfound sense of urgency to finish packing as quickly as possible and get the fuck out.

Finally, Tyler found his voice again, though it was choppy with subdued sobs.

“But what does all of it matter if you’re not here?” he found himself asking as he watched you zip the bags. You shook your head from where you knelt on the floor.

“Maybe you should’ve asked yourself that earlier, Ty,” you suggested angrily, glancing at him in fury.

With that, Tyler sunk to the bench at the end of the bed, beginning to hyperventilate as he watched you stack the kids’ bags on top of your own. He held his head in his hands and begged, “No, no, please, don’t go, please, please forgive me,” as you readied the last of the belongings you were taking with you.

You started to feel your resolve wearing thin, tears threatening to spill and weaken the brave face you were pulling. You forced yourself to cross the room, pull off your rings, and place them on top of Tyler’s dresser. He watched on helplessly, and as you leaned back against the familiar piece of furniture, you finally summoned the courage to say the words you’d been preparing in your heart for months now.

“I fell for this illusion of this life I’d get to live with you, Ty,” you began. “This life filled with this passionate love we found when we were so young, and evolving into this everlasting commitment to growing a family together, not to mention never having to worry about earning a living, and getting to watch you do what you love night in and night out, with our kids. But somewhere along the line, that illusion finally faded for me. You coaxed me into this life and then you left me here.” As you spoke, tears fell from Tyler’s brown eyes, filled with sorrow and regret. It used to wreck you when he cried. Now it just made you angry. You pressed on.

“I go to bed at night and you’re not here, and I wake up and you’re not here, and even when you’re here, you’re not here. I don’t even think you wanna be. Our kids don’t even think you wanna be.”

Your voice wavered as you delivered those words, and Tyler hung his head.

“You used to be the one place I wanted to be, Tyler,” you continued. “And for a year now, I’ve broken my soul in two looking for you. But I can’t find you. I can’t find the person you used to be. You leave me hanging every single day. Despite the times I’ve begged you over and over again to come back to us. I won’t let you continue to disappoint our family like this.”

You wiped your tears away with the backs of your thumbs and pushed off the dresser, approaching the suitcases and preparing to begin the hardest task you’d ever had to attempt — living a life without Tyler.

“I’m sorry,” he cried in despair, sniffling as he watched you approach the doorway.

“I’ll always love you, Tyler,” you offered softly. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

As he watched you walk out on him, Tyler questioned everything he thought he knew about the life he was leading. What’s a lifetime’s worth of accolades, awards, and achievements if he pushed the ones he loved to the edge?

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 7: Screw This.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13…and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

You really didn’t want to answer that question, as to anyone else with half a logical brain, following simple instructions on how to piece together a crib wouldn’t be so hard at all. But to Ransom, the mere fact that there were instructions to follow was kinda making you a little uneasy, as he had a problem with doing anything he was told to do at the best of times. Ransom’s brow furrowed as he clocked the look on your face and he rolled his eyes.

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he deftly changed the subject and you sighed recognising your dismissal. In all fairness he was right, you were due to meet your friend for lunch in half an hour so…

Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying up for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

*****

Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.

As such here he was, in one of the spare rooms that was no longer spare as it now belonged to his unborn child. The colour was picked, paint was purchased…but he drew the line at decorating. That was something that happily you had both agreed was to be done by a professional. In an hour he’d managed to get three sides of the crib together. And they were even and matched the photograph perfectly. But this fourth side…the side that was supposed to go up and down along a set of runners was not playing ball.

“Son of a bitch…” he cursed after what felt like the one hundredth attempt at getting the little wheels to line up “You’re gonna fucking work you fucking piece of…”

“Ransom?”

He paused as the familiar voice drifted up the large stairs and he gave an exasperated sigh. Of course she’d called her dad to check in on him.

“In the nursery.” He called back, a little gruffly. Ransom would never admit this, but the fact that his father-in-law actually cared enough to make the 30 minute drive over to check on him was kind of nice. His own father would have simply sniggered and put the phone down.

But then, Richard Drysdale was an asshole. Y/N’s father was not. And he most certainly was not going to allow his boy to become one either. Well, not a complete one anyway…he had to have some attitude after all, he was a Drysdale.

“Hey Son.” Ransom looked up as Y/N’s dad walked into the room. “Y/N called me before, said you were fixing up the furniture. I thought you might need a hand.”

“She really doesn’t trust me does she?” Ransom snorted and her dad laughed.

“If it’s any consolation, her mother is exactly the same.” He soothed as Ransom straightened up “And I don’t think it’s a case of not trusting you. When me and her brother put the crib together for his kid, it was a pain in the ass to get right.”

Ransom inhaled sharply, his hands falling to his hips “Done ok so far.” He replied a little sullenly.

“Yeah, I can see.” His father-in-law nodded “I just thought I’d check. If you don’t need me, then I can go.” He held his hands up, palms facing Ransom in a conciliatory manner “I got stuff to do so.”

Ransom watched him turn to leave and followed him out of the room with his eyes. He looked at the final piece of the crib before he gave a soft groan and quickly strode after his wife’s father.

“Actually…” he spoke, watching as he paused at the top of the stairs “I can’t get the last piece to line up right.”

He stopped short of actually asking for help, but he didn’t need to. Y/Father’s/Name turned and smiled, patting him gently on the shoulder as he strode back towards the nursery. He stooped to examine the sides and then stood up, pointing.

“This screw,” he said, and Ransom looked at it,“just needs tightening. The head is jutting out a little too far. Once it’s flush to the side then the runners should line up.”

Ransom blinked and then sighed, his head hanging dejectedly “Seriously? That’s it.”

“Hey!” His father-in-law chuckled, “easy thing to miss. Come on, get it screwed in and I’ll help you lift it. Then I think we can safely say a beer is in order.” He then checked his watch “Huh, might even catch the Red-Sox if we’re lucky.”

At that Ransom perked up a little. Another thing he would never admit was that he enjoyed the way her father would simply do stuff like that with him, things his own dad had never wanted to do. Sit, drink beer, watch a game…talk.

Fuck, he was going soft.

He picked up the screw driver and knelt down, angling it slightly so he could reach and lined the head up. He gave three sharp screws to the right but on the fourth the screwdriver slipped and he felt a sharp pain in his left hand.

“Fuck!” he yelled, drawing back instantly as he glanced down and saw the blood oozing from his palm tracing a path down his wrist.

“Here, let me see…” Y/Father’s/Name stepped forward quickly, reaching for Ransom’s arm. He frowned and then looked at Ransom who had gone pale. “Looks pretty deep.”

Ransom swallowed, taking a deep breath as his head began to spin. Fuck, he hated blood.

“Ransom? Son? You okay?”

“I err, I don’t feel…” he took another deep breath and then with a thud he hit the floor.

*****

Don’t Panic.

If there was ever a phrase do make you do just that, it was those simple two words. Which your dad had uttered when he had called you to tell you there had been an accident and he was on his way to the ER with Ransom. You and your friend abandoned the basket full of baby items you’d indulgently been about to purchase after a cheeky trip to the baby boutique one down from the restaurant you’d eaten in, and you’d rushed out of the store, making your way straight to the hospital. By the time you had located Ransom’s room, your dad was stood outside chatting to a nurse.

“What happened?” you demanded and your dad turned to look at you.

“His hand slipped when he was screwing a part of the crib together.” Your dad offered an explanation. “Gave me a scare though, completely out of it he was for a good 2 minutes or so.”

With a soft sigh, you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. Ransom looked up at you from where he was sat on the bed, his hand heavily bandaged, face pale.

“Hey!” you said, making your way to his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Just stabbed myself.”

“My dad said. What did you do that for?” you frowned.

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, sweetheart.” He drawled, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just waiting for someone to take me down to X-Ray to make sure I’ve not damaged anything major”

You arched an eyebrow, a grin playing across your face. “Big enough of a deal to make you pass out from the pain.”

“It was nothing to do with the pain.” He mumbled sullenly. “You know I don’t like blood.”

You chuckled as you sat on the bed next to him, your hand gently pressing against his forehead. He felt a little clammy. “Yeah, you’re gonna be no use what-so-ever when I have the baby.”

“I don’t intend on being at that end.” He looked up at you, shrugging.

“No? You wanna be up there holding my hand, telling me how amazing I am?” you asked, your hand gently running up his neck.

“Maybe.” he replied, his head laying on your shoulder, seeking out comfort like the huge baby he was, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

“Gee thanks.” You replied with a scoff

“I just don’t wanna see you squeeze a baby out of your….you know.” he waved his non bandaged hand, as he moved his head to look at you, a cheeky smirk flickering across his face “I imagine it would be like watching my favourite bar burn down. Knowing that it’s completely wrecked and going to take a while before I can head back in for a drink.”

You blinked as his words registered and then slapped him harshly round the back of the head, causing him to yelp.

“Maybe instead of a fucking x-ray they can scan you for a brain.” You glared at him. “Not that they’d find one.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #real life tasks with ransom drysdale

185 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. Day 7: Screw This.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 …and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Okay, I’m going.” You padded into the room, over to where he was now knelt on the floor surrounded by various tools and pieces of the crib, and dropped a kiss to his forehead “I’ll see you later. Love you.” Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying of for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

***** Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her3 get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.