#and immediately have to leave for AN HOUR AND A HALF LONG CAR APPOINTMENT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeyedmiller · 5 months

Text

A Blissful Feeling | Javier Peña

pairing: husband!javier peña x wife!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: fluff, established relationship (marriage), smut (grinding, fingering, rimming [don’t look at me lol], f oral receiving, one (1) smack on the ass [if i remember correctly], unprotected piv, consensual choking, spitting, praise), small uses of spanish with translations at the end, uses of pet names in a loving manner, teasing, no use of y/n. please let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: You find out Javi is having a bad day at work, so you pay him a visit at the office.

divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

It was mornings like this that Javier wished he could stay in bed with you. Tangled in the sheets, bare skin against bare skin, soft lips brushing pulse points, and satiated grins adorning your lips as you stared at each other with pure love and awe.

But, reality was an unwanted, cruel thing that wrapped herself around perfect mornings like ones like this. Ones where Javier is almost late to work because he can’t get enough of his beautiful wife, leaving him to rush out of the door with his thermos of coffee and a chaste kiss to the lips as a see you later, mi amor to you.

That left you standing in the middle of the kitchen, bare feet on the cold tile floor as you leaned over the counter to make a list of all the errands you had to run today. Your silk robe was tied securely to your body, recalling that the material almost made its way off of you, courtesy of your husband’s needy hands.

As much as you almost gave in to temptation, you didn’t need him to be chewed out by his coworkers for being late. They all loved and respected him at the Laredo sheriff's office, but to save him the humiliation, you mustered up more willpower than you wanted to and ultimately swatted his hands away.

You knew he had a long work day ahead of him, though, and you missed him already. You loved your husband so dearly and being away from him for most of the day tugged at your heart. Some might call it clingy. You just call it being in love.

You decided to get to work on your list anyhow, hoping that these errands and few chores would give you the perfect distraction from missing your sweet Javier too much.

First up: tidy up the house. You put some music on and got to work, having the house cleaned in about an hour. You upkept with cleaning pretty well, so your intermittent cleaning wasn’t as tedious. Once you were done you showered and got ready for the day, sporting a cute christmas patterned sweater with some leggings Javier always said looked good on you. You smile faintly at your husband’s words, relishing in the recollection of them.

The rest of the to-do list was pretty easy, considering it was mundane tasks like washing your car, putting gas in it, and grocery shopping. You also had a nail appointment lined up today, which you were excited for. You were feeling festive, so you wanted to go with something more Christmas themed.

You decided to save grocery shopping for last, knowing it would take at least an hour and a half. The list you and Javier made last night was long, knowing you needed to restock on essentials and your favorite foods.

You got washing your car and filling up the tank out of the way in twenty minutes, leaving you to head to the nail salon. While you were sitting in the chair mindlessly watching your nail tech paint your nails, your phone pinged with a text from Javi.

Hi mi amor. How’s your day going so far? I miss you.

You couldn’t help but smile foolishly at his text, making your heart flutter as you read the words over again. Six years together and two years married, and yet, he still made you feel so special—like the only girl in the room that mattered.

Hi baby. I miss you too. It’s good, just got some stuff done off of my to-do list. How’s work?

You respond as fast as you could with the hand thats nails weren’t being painted.

He responded almost immediately to you.

That’s great, cariño. Work has been shitty today. Tipped my fresh coffee over by accident in the break room, and I couldn’t make myself a new cup since we ran out of coffee grounds. Nobody around here seems to know how to do their job today. Wish I was back in bed with you.

Your smile falters at his text. You hated seeing him so stressed, wishing you could take it all away in an instant.

Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, amor. I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner tonight and give you a nice back massage. How’s that sound? ;)

You’re hopeful your offer lightens his mood a little bit, but another idea skimmed your mind. You looked at your watch-clad wrist, seeing it was only eleven thirty. You decided you’d try and brighten his day sooner by surprising him with lunch at his job.

Part of you wanted to go anyway just to see him and kiss him, telling him the stress of the day will go away when he comes back to a nice clean house and a home cooked meal waiting for him after he gets off of work.

Sounds great, baby. Can’t wait.

You heart the message and finish up with your nails, paying your tech and tipping her for doing an incredible job. You contemplate where to get lunch, and you ultimately decide on this Mediterranean spot you both love. It’s down the block from the sheriff’s office, so it was perfect.

Within twenty minutes, you were heading down the road to see your husband. You pulled up to the sheriff’s office, greeting the familiar receptionist with a smile.

“Doreen! How are you today?” You smile, and her grin reflects yours. The sweet older lady always enjoyed chatting with you, loving when you paid the office a visit.

“Mrs. Peña! What a nice surprise. I’m good dear, how are you?” She asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I’m great, thank you. Glad you’re doing well. Is Javi busy at the moment?” You ask, hopeful that he isn’t so you can actually spend time with him and enjoy your lunch together.

“Nope. Go right ahead, doll. Should I call him and tell him you’re coming?”

“No, no,” You stop her with a sweet smile. “I wanted to surprise him with lunch today.”

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest. Enjoy your lunch.” She winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh. You just absolutely adored her kind soul.

“Thank you Doreen. See you in a bit.” You wave, heading off to Javier’s office. You turned a couple of corners before stopping at his door, knocking on it twice with a smile stretched on your lips.

“Come in.” You heard him say, and you opened the door.

He doesn’t look up from his paperwork until he hears the bag of food rustling, and his head shoots up. His big brown eyes gleam with joy as he takes in the sight of you.

“Mi amor,” He whispers, getting out of his chair to make his way to you. “What are you—”

“Surprise.” You say and hold the bag of food up, and he chuckles as he wraps an arm firmly around your frame to pull you into him. You softly yelp in surprise, your free hand landing on his chest.

“You’re the best, cariño. This is exactly what I needed.” He grins as he leans to kiss you tenderly, hand making its way under your sweater to splay out against the skin of your back. The coolness of his wedding band shot a shiver down your spine, and you moved your hand from his chest up to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer.

He groans softly and pulls away before he gets lost in the art of kissing his beautiful wife.

“What’d you get for lunch?” He mumbles against your lips.

“Mediterranean.”

“Mm, thank you baby.” He kisses your cheek before fully pulling away.

“Thought I could join you today, if that’s okay.” You grin at him.

“Of course mi amor, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He kisses you chastely once more before closing his office door behind you all the way. He makes his way back to his desk chair and grabs your hips, silently asking you to sit down on one of his legs. You laugh at the gesture before taking the food containers out of the bag, the aroma of chicken kabobs and basmati rice instantly filling the office.

Javier keeps one hand wrapped around your waist as you both eat, savoring the delicious food. Halfway through the meal, you feel his lips brush your neck with a ghost of a kiss that has you clenching your thighs together.

Javier always had a way of arousing you, even with the simplest of actions. Sometimes it wasn’t fair how easily he could turn you on. He didn’t care though. He fucking loved it, and loved teasing you until you were squirming and whimpering for him.

“Javi.” You whisper, leaning your head back on his shoulder. It could’ve also been the way that you two didn’t get to finish what you started this morning, so the anticipation has been building and brewing deep in your belly all day.

“My wife is just the sweetest,” He whispers against your neck, “Just wanna thank her for a wonderful surprise is all.” He teases, hands caressing your curves underneath your sweater.

Goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch, and you put a hand on his thigh to steady yourself. He stops his movements momentarily and brings one hand out from under your sweater, lifting your hand up to his line of sight.

“Got your nails done, baby? They look real good,” He compliments, kissing your hand. He admires your red nails with a holly design on your ring finger.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Did you use my card to pay for them?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He groans, shaking his head. “Baby, you know I love to pay for your nails. Why won’t you just use my card?”

“I feel bad, honey, you don’t need to pay for everything I need maintenance on all the time.”

“Uh uh. Don’t ever feel bad. I’m here to spoil my wife as I please, and if I wanna pay for her nails, I’ll do so,” He chastised, but it wasn’t condescending. He chuckles after, and you turn to give him a confused look. “Besides, I love seeing what color and design you always pick out. Can’t wait to see how it’ll look wrapped around my cock you love so much.”

He’s snickering like a school boy, and your jaw drops in pure shock.

“Javier Peña!” You swat his arm, “You’re so bad.” He laughs at your scolding, putting both hands on your thighs.

“You know you love it, baby.” He teases, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs, taking notice that you’re wearing his favorite leggings on you.

“Do me a favor, mi amor,” He says, and you turn to look at him. “Lock my office door for me.” He nods his head towards the door, and you look at him in confusion.

“Javi, what—?” You begin, but he shakes his head and gives you room to get up. You rise slowly, making your way over to the mahogany door to twist the lock shut. You turn to look at Javier again, and the lustful look on his face startles you.

His sweet brown eyes are now nearly black, full of so much desire and neediness and—fuck—you were so turned on by it. There’s just something about the way he looks at you that silently screams possession, like he’s proud that you’re his, that turns you on so much.

You needed to ground yourself back to reality though, because doing anything here would be too risky.

“Javi, baby, we’re at your job. We can’t—we can’t do this here.”

You begin to walk closer to him and he turns his chair to the side so he’s no longer facing his desk. He makes a ‘come here’ gesture with his index finger, and you want to fucking salivate with how delicious your husband looks right now. He’s got that carnal stare locked on you and your figure, legs spread wide with the fabric of his slacks straining against his thick thighs, and a devilish smirk on his face as he tugs you by the waistband of your leggings to stand before him, tucked between his legs.

“But that’s where you’re wrong, baby. Wanna finish what we started this morning,” He tugs you down gently so you’re straddling his lap. You feel his bulge through his slacks, and it takes everything in you not to moan. “Just gotta keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet.”

His large hands cradle your ass, giving it a squeeze as he kisses you. Your first instinct was to card your fingers through his dark locks, but you had to remind yourself that you were in his office—you didn’t want to leave any evidence of your insatiable endeavors behind. You opted for the lapel of his suit instead, tugging him closer to you. You moan breathlessly into his mouth, instinctively grinding your hips down onto him.

A deep groan rumbles from his sturdy chest, like the neediness and desire to have you right now was life or death.

He pulled back from you for a second to trail kisses down the warm skin of your neck, tongue poking out to trace over your pulse point.

You gasped and grinded yourself into him harder, your arousal slowly seeping through your panties and leggings. Your core was aching to be touched at this point, only merely teased this morning by your husband’s skillful fingers.

You wanted more, more, more, but responsibilities outweighed desires.

One of his hands traveled down to rub at your core over the fabric of your clothes, cock straining tighter against his slacks to find you’ve already soaked through your panties and leggings.

“Does my beautiful wife want me this badly?” He murmurs, and you nod frantically.

“Please, Javi. Need you so bad.” Your voice sounded desperate and whiny, but you truly couldn’t care at this moment. All you wanted was for your husband to take everything he needed and wanted from you.

“Stand up, sweet girl.”

You obey instantly. He was so easy to submit to. Everything with him was just so easy. He was safe, he was gentle, he was home.

He turned your body so you faced his desk, and he bent you downward so your body was at a ninety degree angle.

He easily peeled your panties and leggings off of your ass, shimmying them down to your mid-thigh. He kicked your feet further apart, relishing in the sight of your ass on full display for him. He rubbed the supple flesh lovingly, giving it a smack before he sank to his knees behind you.

You turned your head back to look at him, eyebrows threading together at the sight of him kneeling behind you.

“Baby, what are you do—oh, fuck.” You cry, hand clamping over your mouth. Javier had taken it upon himself to eat you out from behind, delving his expert tongue through your slick folds.

He hummed against you, licking up everything you gave him as your arousal dripped down your thighs, and now, his face.

It was rare when he ate you out from behind, but when he did, it was a fucking treat. Before him, nobody else had ever done so, so the first time he did it with you, it had you coming in less than five minutes tops.

He usually liked to eat you out from below, just so he could see your pretty face contort into pure pleasure as his tongue fucked you rhythmically.

Your hand did a half-assed job at muffling your moans as Javi’s tongue circled your clit, all the way up to your entrance, and past that to your other hole. You choked on a gasp as he greedily licked you, reaching your other hand back to grab one that dug into the meat of your thigh. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze as he removed his mouth from you.

He chuckled darkly as he spit onto your hole, saliva trailing down to your entrance. He got back to work immediately, licking your entrance before moving back down to your clit. He unlinked his hand from yours, prodding two fingers at your entrance. He pushed in slowly and with ease, slick instantly coating his thick fingers.

You whimper at the sensation, that low burn of desire that’s been pooling in your belly all day completely awakened, licking a flame up your spine and waiting for a chance to engulf you wholly.

“Could eat this pretty pussy all day, baby.” Javier mumbled below you, and you couldn’t help but clench around his fingers.

The lewd sounds of your wetness reverberated off of his office walls, hoping to god none of his coworkers could hear any of this.

You felt the internal flame in your body get hotter and hotter, traveling down your legs as they shook with pleasure.

“That’s it, mamas, there you go. Doing so well. Let it go, baby.” Javier’s words launched you over the edge, gushing around his fingers and all over his mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as you bit your lip hard to try and keep quiet. The obscene sounds of him slurping every last bit of you up nearly made your knees buckle.

Your body went limp against his desk, breath uneven and shaky.

“Fuck, Javi.” You breathe, eyes closing in pure bliss.

“Worth the wait?” He asks.

You nod mindlessly, mind too fuzzy to conjure up a proper response.

“Good. Not done with you yet, though, cariño. Turn around for me.”

You muster up all the strength you have in your body to turn around and face him, and your eyes immediately move down to the straining bulge in his slacks. You lean against his desk, pulling him to you by his belt buckle. You deftly unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his slacks, sliding down the zipper in one go.

You move to drop to your knees, but Javier catches your elbow before you fully sink down. You look up at him with glossy eyes and a confused stare, and he moves to cradle your jaw in his large hand.

“Mm mm. Let’s save that for tonight, mi amor. Wanna be inside you now.”

Before you can even register his words, he’s lifting you up onto his desk and pulling his slacks and boxers down. His painfully erect cock springs free, and you reach forward to give it a few tugs and swipe your thumb over his slit to collect the pre come that gathered at his tip. You pop your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it while staring into your husband’s beautiful brown eyes. You let out a satisfied hum, licking your lips after you remove your thumb from your mouth with a ‘pop’.

Javier hisses through clenched teeth, expression painted with neediness and agony. You tug on his cock a couple of times, biting down on your lip as you look up at your handsome husband. You bat your lashes up at him and you feel his cock twitch in your hand.

“Need you, baby.” His voice is gravelly, nearly pained.

“I’m yours.”

And he’s on you. He leans down to kiss you fervently, sliding the tip of his cock through your folds before pushing into you. You both swallow each other’s moans; the fullness he provided you each time was something you’ll always be mesmerized by.

He starts off slow, testing the waters of his thrusts to see if his desk would creak too loud or if it would scrape too much against the thin rug beneath it. Once he found he was in the clear, he picked up his pace immediately.

He relentlessly thrusted in and out of you, the tip of his heavy cock kissing your cervix. You cried out his name and he shushed you with praises that only made you more aroused.

Sh sh sh, I know baby, I know. Taking my cock so well, hm? Such a good fucking girl for me. My pretty wife. All mine, he babbled.

He looked down at you as he relentlessly fucked you, the sound of skin slapping on skin much louder than your moans. Javier couldn’t give a shit anymore, though.

His tunnel vision was locked in, only wanting to make you feel good. One of his hands gathered your wrists and held them above your head, flashing you a wicked smile as his other hand traveled up to your throat. Before he could squeeze, he waited for your consent.

“Please.” You squeak out, and he wraps his fingers around your throat to squeeze the sides.

“Open your mouth.” He says, and you oblige, sticking your tongue out for good measure. He spits directly into your mouth, and you swallow without hesitation. You grin up at him as he squeezes your throat a little tighter, a euphoric type of bliss overcoming your whole being.

He’s fucking into you so hard now that various items on his desk start to rattle. Pencils are being knocked over and the framed photo of you and him on your wedding day plops down onto a pile of papers. His hand moves from your wrists to your breasts, squeezing them generously over the soft fabric of your sweater.

He couldn’t wait to give the entirety of your body all of the attention it deserves when he got home from work tonight. The thought of you squirming beneath him as you tugged on his hair, moaning as loud as you wanted without a care in the world, had him fucking panting.

You were canting your hips up to meet his thrusts as best as you could, the sensation of his wiry hair at the base of his cock causing a delectable friction onto your already sore and puffy clit. He moved his hands from your throat and breasts to skate them down your figure, finding home on your hips.

“I’m close, Javi.” You were breathless, the rumbling fire in your core slowly overtaking your body once more. You needed only a single match to light your fire, and Javier was it. He was your match. He slid you against the matchbox and lit your whole body aflame, engulfing you in everything Javi. He was all-consuming.

You let the feeling of that familiar euphoric bliss overcome your body once more as you convulsed, legs shaking as they locked around Javier’s waist. Feeling you clench around him with such force had his hips stuttering, knowing he wasn’t far behind from release himself.

His lips enveloped yours once more, hands flying up to cradle your face as he spilled every last drop of his come into you. Your moans met in a harmony that not even the most skilled choir could compete with.

His hips stilled completely, waiting a few seconds to relish in your warmth before sliding out of you slowly. You whimpered at the loss of fullness, wishing you could curl up next to him and enjoy his warmth for hours. Reality trickled back in as he bent down to pick up his boxers and slacks, readjusting himself to make it look like he didn’t just fuck his wife relentlessly on his desk.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead before helping you stand, kissing your thighs before sliding your panties and leggings up your legs again. The fucked out look on your face was one of his favorites, and it’s one he knows he’ll never get tired of seeing.

“I love you, baby. Thank you for two meals in one.” He winked, and you felt your body get hot.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, taking a step forward to close the gap between you both. He mindlessly wrapped a hand around your waist, and you rested a hand on his chest—right above the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart.

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Peña. Hope this made your day a little better,” You give him a chaste kiss, hand sliding down his chest to his abdomen before separating your lips from his as your gaze meets his once more. “And I can’t wait for mine tonight.” Your fingers tease the waistband of his slacks, and he grabs your hand to move it lower, resting over his already half-hard cock.

He closes his eyes in pure bliss as you rub him through the fabric slowly, and you kiss his neck before huffing a small laugh.

“Mine.” You say, stepping away from him, heading for his office door. You wink at him and blow him one last kiss before unlocking and opening the door, leaving him dumbfounded, turned on, and pondering what you had in store for him at home that night.

But, for now, he had reality and her greedy ways to tend to before he could submerge himself once more in this blissful thing he called home—

You.

translations:

-> amor: love

-> mi amor: my love

-> cariño: honey

tag list: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @amanitacowboy

#javier peña smut #javier peña fic #javier pena imagine #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #javi pena #javier pena one shot #javier pena fluff #javier pena x f!reader #husband!javi #husband!javier #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

229 notes · View notes

sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Note

Fezco fic where reader and him are trying to spend “time” together and everyone keeps cockblocking?

Sure :)

It started with Rue randomly showing up to our apartment while I was seated atop Fez's lap, our sweaty body's pressed up against each other.

"Fez, is someone at the door?" I ask between frantic kisses, Fez's hands only gripping my hips tighter as he drags me against him, shameless whimpers escaping me. He just grunts and ignores my question, his hand slipping up under my shirt as a shiver runs down my spine.

"Fez!" At the sound of Rue's voice now clearly coming through the door, Fez groans loudly in annoyance and his head tips back to rest against the couch, looking up at me with tired, frustrated eyes. I just slip off of him without another word, allowing him to answer the door.

We pulled apart from each other and fixed our clothes long enough to see what she wanted- which was drugs, shocker- and sent her on her way after about a half an hour. We were ready to get back to what we were doing until Faye got home and immediately needed to talk to me about wanting a real job and not relying on Custer. So Fez left us for girl talk, leaving the room with a quick adjustment.

After that, it was Ash needing to steal Fez away from me to go on an abrupt run with an important client, a local drug runner that they were trying to schedule an appointment with to talk to him about working for Fez. But apparently, the best time for them to sit down and talk was in the middle of mine and Fez's shower.

My hands press against the glass as Fez presses his chest to my back, a smile on his lips as his lips skim against my neck. His hand slips up the front of my body until his fingers are softly wrapped around my neck, pulling me back against him and I whine loudly, pressing my ass against him and giving it a playful shake.

"Aye Fez, we got it!" Ash bangs on the door and I jump, knocking over our soap bottles from the wrack. I mutter a quiet apology as Fez flips me around in his grasp, reaching up to cup my cheeks sweetly, knowing that he has to go.

It was just another time today where we were forced from each other, leaving each other hot and bothered. And when they got home, they were both in the mood to celebrate, to light up a blunt and tell me about all the different ways that this partnership with the drug runner could benefit us, how it will inevitably make our lives so much better. From getting me a new car, to getting us out of this apartment, to hire a new doctor for his grandma so we don't have to have someone constantly here with her- it sounded amazing.

But the only thing running through my mind was Fez's body on top of mine.

"Hey, ready for bed?" I sit politely on the middle of the bed, legs folded beneath me as Fez steps into the room, immediately discarding his shirt onto the ground. I bite at my lip as my stomach flutters, my eyes trailing down his body and he turns to me with curious eyes. "What's up? You tired or not?" He laughs but I just give him a playful shrug, crawling to the edge of the bed.

"Something like that." I flirt, finally catching his attention as he realizes just what I want, stepping up to the side of the bed. He cups my cheeks in his hands and tilts my chin up to look at him and I gaze up at him through my lashes, batting them innocently.

"Oh yeah? Whatchu got in mind?" He asks, thumb brushing against my bottom lip with a small, knowing smirk.

"Dirty things." I whisper, reaching forward to grip onto his shoulders, pulling him down to the bed beneath me.

"Shocker."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

@crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht

#fezco #euphoria #fezco x reader #euphoria series #fez #fez x reader #fezco fanfic

945 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

prev chapter

———

Seven in the morning on September 8th, the mourning doves gently cooing as the sun rises, the walk to the minivan is as silent as a graveyard.

“C’mon, guys,” Luis tries, but not that hard. “Let’s try for a good year, okay?”

To her credit, Veronica does her best to muster up a smile. Marco manages a nod.

Rachel does nothing. She hasn’t so much as spoken a word since the accident.

The half-hour drive to where everyone needs to do is completely silent. Luis tries initially to put on the radio, but he hears Marco’s sharp inhale when he averts his eyes from the road to change the station and stops immediately.

It’s been three months since Mamá and Papá passed. Sometimes Luis feels like none of them are ever going to be okay again.

Rachel and Marco are dropped off first.

“Remember to check in with your guidance counsellors,” Veronica says. “Luis and I talked to them last week. They’re aware of the…situation.”

Not that it did much. They’d made an appointment to talk to the school administration as soon as the high school opened, just before classes started, but they’d made it to the office and neither of them knew what to say. ‘Hey, there’s a very good chance that both of these kids are going to have extreme drops in performance or even fail because they both just lost their parents in one night?’ No, of course not. ‘Please be aware that Rachel has regular panic attacks at the sounds of car horns and brakes squealing, and that Marco sometimes just gets up and leaves and you don’t hear from him again for hours?’ Probably, but still. How the hell were they even supposed to breach the subject? Luis and Veronica aren’t fucking guardians. They’re barely even legal adults. Hell, neither of them can fucking drink, yet!

But there was no one else to do it. So they mumbled their way through an explanation — parents dead, kids traumatized, go easy — and high-tailed it the hell out of there. Both of them have been hanging up the phone whenever the school calls.

“Love you guys,” Luis says as they wrench open the side door and hop out of the van, slinging their backpacks on behind them. Veronica repeats the sentiment. Marco mumbles something in return, Rachel says nothing, and then they’re both off.

Before they can fade completely out of sight, Veronica calls Marco’s name.

“Watch out for your sister.”

Marco hesitates for a moment, eyes shining like broken glass, and then he nods. He turns back around without another word and disappears into the crowded mass of teenagers.

“We knew today was going to be rough,” Luis mutters, starting the car and carefully navigating out of the parking lot. “We expected this. That’s what all the parenting books said.”

Veronica’s silent for a long moment.

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

It takes them a little farther to get where Veronica needs to go. Her apprenticeship is entirely dependant on whether or not she can find a welder willing to take her on — it’s 2003, for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be that hard, but some people suck. Some people will be completely incapable of seeing her as valuable as she is, and they won’t even bother. It’s a shit reality, and frustrating as hell, but it’s their best bet for money in the long run. Veronica’s always been good with her hands, and with Luis already eating up funds in tuition and God knows how much savings they have left with Mamá and Papá gone, Veronica working as she’s learning is their best bet. The trades pay well, too, and they’ve got three more kids to save up for.

Luis swallows the lump in his throat. Marco has always wanted to go to Juliard.

How the fuck are they gonna afford that?

“Drop me off here,” Veronica says, pointing at a shop just down the road. Luis slows to a stop in front of it, peering through the windshield.

“…That place?” he asks skeptically. “You sure?”

If it weren’t for the two people arguing just inside the garage doors, Luis would assume the shop is abandoned. The sign’s paint is so faded and scuffed up that it’s impossible to read, and several windows are boarded up. The walls are more graffiti than brick.

“I looked it up online,” Veronica explains. “They don’t have a website, but I found a couple blogs mentioning it. Apparently it’s the most competent shop in town, and it’s run by a woman.” She shoots him a small smile, grabbing her bag and opening the passenger door. “I’ll be fine, you big loser. Or have you forgotten that I’ve kicked your ass in every fight we’ve ever had?”

Luis snorts. He has not forgotten. He’s pretty sure he has minor brain damage from the time Veronica slammed his head into a side table when they were fighting over a girl in middle school (who didn’t like either of them, go figure).

“Believe me, asshole. I didn’t forget. Keep your cell on, though, okay? Call me if things get weird. I’ll be here, you know I will.”

She smiles at him again, and seeing some genuine happiness and excitement bleed into her expression for the first time in months is more relieving than Luis has the words for.

“I will, Luis. Now get lost. You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He waits until she’s inside the shop and talking to who he assumes is the owner before carefully peeling off, mindful of the early morning traffic around him. Once he’s well on his way and a little more comfortable behind the wheel, he adjusts his rearview mirror slightly to see the baby seat strapped tightly in the back.

“You and me, now, huh, Lance?”

Lance grins at him around the thumb he’s got stuffed in his mouth, babbling happily.

“Yeah, that’s right, buddy. You’re going to be the first college-educated baby, because we sure as shit cannot afford daycare.” He grimaces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say shit around you. The parenting books say you pick up on bad language and are more likely to be using it when you’re older.”

Lance does not seem to be too terribly offended, continuing to stare back at Luis through the mirror, brown eyes big and wide and knowing.

The parenting books say that he will have just barely gained a sense of self and awareness in July — 7 months — but Lance has always appeared so knowing. He’s ten months old, now, and sometimes Luis is convinced he already knows how to speak in full sentences and just doesn’t feel like it.

Babies grow at their own rate, Mamá had said years ago, when Luis asked why Rachel wasn’t walking yet. She’ll get there, mijo. Don’t worry your pretty head about all those milestones your textbooks tell you about.

It hurts to remember her words. Even now, months after the accident, thinking of his parents makes something like bile rise up in his throat.

But he’s never known anyone wiser than his mother. And certainly no parents better than his own, so he might as well get used to thinking about them.

He pulls into the first available parking spot he sees, in what has to be a fifteen minute walk at least to the main buildings on campus.

Oh, well.

He turns off the car, running through the checklist in his head — windows up, lights off, no check engine light, keys in pocket, seatbelt off — before getting out and opening the back door.

“Alright, Lancey-pants. You ready to come sit through Calculus III with me? Huh? Yeah, I bet you are, you little nerd. Let’s go.”

Lance’s carseat is big and clunky and heavy most of all, and combined with the diaper bag and his own backpack he feels like a fucking packhorse. He feels like a freak, too, with all the stares and giggles from other students he walks by.

He swallows, ignoring the burning of his cheeks, and walks on.

He just barely makes it to his class on time, sliding into one of the only available seats just as the lecturer starts speaking. He keeps Lance strapped in his carseat, rocking him gently with his foot as he takes out his notepad. He prays that Lance falls asleep so that he can get through the next couple hours without incident.

“…and hopefully you’ve all read the first chapter of your textbooks, and we can dive right in…”

———

They almost make it.

They get so close.

For the first two hours of the lecture, everything is fine. Luis is paying as much attention as he can, scrawling down notes to keep up with his rapidly-speaking professor. Every so often someone shoots him a dirty look when Lance says something in baby-talk, but they can fuck right off. Lance is being an angel, by baby standards. He’s almost completely silent, brown eyes wide as he observes the world around him, vastly different from the home he’s been confined to for the entirety of the summer. Any sound from him is no louder than the occasional whisper of any confused students. He’s fine.

And then the sniffling starts.

Luis isn’t quite sure what sets him off. He made sure to feed him just before they left, so he shouldn’t need anything else for another two hours. He’s obviously not sleepy. It might be a diaper thing, but Luis doubts it. He took care of that before he left, too.

Regardless, Lance begins to sniffle, and then he begins to cry, and no amount of desperate shushing and cooing from Luis does anything before Lance truly begins to wail.

Like a scene from a nightmare, the professor stops what she’s doing. Every eye in the classroom turns to him.

“Is everything all right?” the professor asks.

“Fine,” Luis chokes out. He doesn’t even take the time to gather up his bag, he just scoops Lance from his seat and flees as quickly as he can. Hopefully he can come back for his stuff when the lecture ends.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Luis soothes, gently bouncing an inconsolable Lance as he walks the campus grounds. Numerous people give him nasty or pitying looks as they walk by, but Luis ignores them. They’re not his concern right now. “What’s wrong, huh? You miss your parents? Me too, sweetheart. Fuck.”

Lance gets like this, sometimes. He just cries and cries, like his heart is breaking. Veronica thinks his heart is a little broken, and he needs time to heal, like the rest of them.

“It’s okay, Lancito. Let it out. Let it out.”

By the time he sees his class file out of the lecture hall, Lance has finally calmed down to hiccups and sniffles.

“Let’s go get our stuff, yeah?”

Luis tries to slip back inside as inconspicuously as possible, making a beeline for his seat and is relieved to find his stuff untouched. Thank God.

Lance protests when he tries to rebuckle him in the carseat, so he just dumps all his books into the seat and holds Lance instead. It’s fine. If Lance wants to be held, he can hold him. It’s the first day of classes, after all, so he probably won’t miss too much, note-wise —

“Excuse me, young man.”

Luis startles at the voice, whipping around to face whoever’s approaching. His professor stands a few feet away from him, straight-backed and tall, orange saree almost reaching the ground. Luis turns to face her, setting down the carseat and holding out one hand.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting the lecture earlier, Professor. I’m Luis Sanchez.”

“Sarah Lee,” she says. “And no need to apologize.” She smiles kindly, letting go of Luis’ hand and extending hers out to Lance. “And you, little one? What’s your name.”

Lance giggles. He doesn’t remove his hand from his mouth — thankfully — but leans forward to bat his head gently against her hand.

“This is Lance.” Luis pokes him in the stomach, making him giggle again. “He’s noisy. I wouldn’t usually bring him to class, I swear, but I had no other option and I already paid tuition —”

“Walk with me,” Professor Lee interrupts, and then she’s out the lecture hall without so much as a glance behind her. Luis frantically throws the rest of his stuff into the carseat and scrambles to follow her. She doesn’t speak again until they reach the campus gardens — the projects of fourth year environmental science students.

“You’re nineteen, yes? Twenty?”

“Twenty,” Luis affirms.

She hums. “Thirty years ago, I was in your exact situation.” She leans forward and plucks a sprig of mint from the garden, holding it towards Lance. “Good for digestion,” she explains, at Luis’ wary look. “And soothing the mind.” Luis nods once, and she hands it to Lance, who immediately shoves it in his mouth. He makes a face initially, but seems to decide that he likes it, gnawing on it slowly.

“You were in my situation?” Luis prompts. This is…not what he expected, but he’s so lost and the professor is speaking so kindly that Luis is willing to take any helping hand, at this point. Plus, Lance seems to like her, so.

“Yes,” she continues. “Twenty years old, freshly married with a newborn baby, desperately trying to get my degree so I didn’t throw away everything my mother sacrificed to get me where I was. Not an easy task.”

“Oh.” Luis feels horrible for misleading her. “Lance isn’t…he’s not mine. He’s my brother. My parents —” his voice cracks — “my parents passed, early this summer. I have no one else to watch him. My other siblings can’t take him right now and it’s not ideal, but I figured university has other adults, you know? People will be mature about it. I just — I dunno. It’s — I’m sorry if I implied our situations were the same. I can’t imagine what you had to go through.”

“Luis,” she says gently. She stops, facing him fully. “I am so, so sorry for your loss.” She considers him carefully. “You are carrying a lot on your shoulders right now, child. You don’t need to carry unwarranted guilt, as well. True, our situations are not identical, but they are very similar, no?“

“I guess,” Luis says weakly.

“I’m trying to offer my help, child,” Professor Lee says, reaching out and squeezing his hands. “Just like I was helped when I needed it. Accept it.”

Luis shudders, then nods. This is almost too good to be true, and he’s in no place to refute it. He’s not sure exactly what she’s offering, but anything is better than dragging poor Lance to class every day and hoping for the best.

“Good. Now, thankfully there are much better systems in place now than there were in the seventies. Did you know the university offers on-campus childcare for reduced rates, to help train the student educators? Come. Let me show you where to sign up.”

147 notes · View notes

stevethehairington · 2 years

Text

so, i saw the tweet below (obviously creds to @/kvrtzwcrld, your brain is huge for this!!) yesterday night

and i have not stopped thinking about it since, so, naturally, i took to the keyboard about it:

at first, the letters come from steve — as in, it is steve that is the one who hands them over to max. it’s summer, so there’s no school, and max is still in physical therapy. some of her sessions (most of them, really) conflict with her mom’s work schedule, susan having to leave for her shifts at just about the same time max has to leave for her appointments. naturally, steve offers to help out by giving max a ride to her sessions when susan can’t.

max knows that sometimes, steve will chat with her mom if susan has a few minutes to spare before she has to run and max is taking a little bit longer than usual to finish getting ready and come out.

so when max slides into the passenger seat and steve holds out a card for her to take, telling her “oh, by the way, your mom wanted me to give this to you. she had to leave before you came out so she couldn’t give it to you herself.” she probably does think it’s genuinely from her mom at first.

only, then she opens it and that is not her mother’s handwriting. she’s kind of disappointed by that, just a little, and she probably wouldn’t admit that, but she’s also used to it, so the sting doesn’t last for very long. not to mention, her curiosity to see what it actually says is too great.

she reads through the letter, and almost immediately she thinks that it’s steve who wrote it for her.

she doesn’t say anything to him about it at first. just holds onto the letter, tells him “oh, that was nice of my mom”, and lets him think that he got away with it.

and after that, it keeps happening. the letters keep coming. every time she gets into the car with steve, he has a new one to give her. max never actually sees her mom hand off any of these letters to steve, either, so she’s fully convinced it’s him. not to mention, all of the “you’re going to have a great day”s and the “you can do it”s and the other, various, generally peppy remarks just totally scream steve.

she wants to know for sure though. so she comes up with a plan.

one day she gets ready for her session super early, like at least half an hour before steve’s set to show up. she hides out in her room, so her mom doesn’t know, and she waits there until she hears steve’s car roll up. her mom calls her name and tells her steve is here. max calls back that she’s almost ready, she’ll be out in a minute. she listens for her mom after that, and when she doesn’t hear her, max thinks she went outside to talk to steve.

max sneaks out of her bedroom as quietly as possible and tiptoes over to the window. she crouches down low and peeks out from behind the corner of the curtain. and there steve’s beemer sits, in the patch of dirt they jokingly call their “driveway”, but it isn’t max’s mother who is leaning up against his car.

it’s eddie munson.

(eddie munson, who max never really gave a second thought before spring of ’86. eddie munson who was just “that munson boy, always up to no good”.

until he wasn’t.

until suddenly they’re on the same team. until they’re working together to save each other’s lives. until they end up three hospital rooms down from each other, broken, bruised, busted, bitten.

but on the mend. recovering.

and then it’s neither one of them being able to sleep, too afraid of the nightmares that plague their minds, the horrors that are burned into the backs of their eyelids, there every time they close their eyes. they find solace in each other, sitting together at the rickety old picnic table between their trailers. talking about skateboarding and dnd. about heavy metal and kate bush. about anything that isn’t gates and monsters and hiveminds and hellscapes.

(but they do talk about that, too, sometimes. when some nights are bad and some nights are worse and the only way to make it better is to face it head on. but they help each other feel safe. they help each other feel understood.)

they chase each other’s ghosts away. they remind each other that they are not alone.

it’s an unlikely friendship, not something max ever could have seen coming. but eddie is good. eddie is great. he doesn’t treat her like a kid, doesn’t handle her with care, like she’s something fragile and delicate that could break from one strong gust of wind. he’s one of the only ones who looks at her and just sees max.

he does take care of her, but she takes care of him too. it’s — he’s family. the brother she never had. the brother she always wanted.)

eddie’s got one arm resting against the window of steve’s car where it’s rolled down, and he and steve are talking. laughing. smiling together. steve says something then, and eddie straightens up and fishes for something in his jacket pocket.

and then, right there in plain sight, max watches eddie pull out a small little envelope and hand it over to steve. he says something to steve and points at the envelope in his hand, expression firm. then he spares a quick look towards max’s trailer, and max ducks down quick so she isn’t caught out.

after a second, two, three, she chances a glance out the window again. she watches as eddie taps his palm against the frame of steve’s window, letting it linger for a moment before he lifts his hand up and off and into a wave instead. then he turns on his heel and heads back to his trailer. he looks back twice.

max waits a minute, so it isn’t obvious that she was waiting by the door, then she grabs her bag and heads outside. when she slides into the passenger seat, steve holds out a card — the very same one she just saw eddie give him.

when max opens it, it’s exactly what she expected — the same handwriting, the same spiffy, upbeat encouragements, the same lopsided little smiley face at the top.

it’s signed love you, mom xx at the bottom, just the way it always is.

but max knows now.

when fall rolls around and school starts back up, eddie takes over steve’s job as max’s chauffeur. he and max are going to the same place, after all.

(eddie had been disappointed when they hadn’t simply waved away the last of those finals he missed and granted him his diploma anyways. they’d been strict about the rules. no exceptions. they did, however, offer him an alternative arrangement. rather than redoing his entire senior year again, they came up with an arrangement in which he only had to cover the content from the last few weeks he’d missed and sit for the final exams, and then, assuming things went well, he’d be walking out of hawkins high with his diploma firmly in hand. they even told him he’d be able to walk with the graduating class of ’87 if he wanted.)

now that it’s eddie carting her around, max fully expects the cards to stop. there’s no steve for eddie to hide behind anymore, and max thinks that even though he’s under the impression that she’s none the wiser, he might feel too exposed nonetheless.

but they don’t stop.

every morning, like clockwork, max hops into the front seat of eddie’s van, and eddie hands her a card, tells her, “from your mom.” (he even tries to tug on the end of one of her braids once after he hands it over, and max, who’d had a very bad night and is feeling far too sentimental over a god damn card, lets him.)

it comes to a head, as most things do, in the wheeler basement.

despite max’s steadfast refusal to join in on their silly little game, she still tags along to the party’s hellfire meetings. she likes hanging out in the basement with el, and with robin and nancy and steve if they’re there too. she’d never ever tell them, but she also likes hanging out with the boys too. likes watching them get so into their game that they almost knock over their goofy chalices of mountain dew. likes listening to them all shout over one another when they’re trying to make a decision on what their party’s next move should be. they’re her friends. her people. and, call her a softie, but she just likes being around them. all of them.

it's the end of their latest session, and eddie’s just finished cleaning up — gathering up all his little figurines, carefully stowing away all of his campaign notes, helping steve pile up the empty cans of dew and grease stained pizza plates for the garbage.

“hey, red,” eddie calls, catching max’s attention. he pulls the trash bag from steve’s hands, ignoring his protests, and hoists it up, giving it a shake. the crushed cans clink together inside. “be a doll and take this out, will ya?”

steve tries to take it back from eddie, to tell him he can do it himself, it’s fine, max doesn’t need to help. but max likes helping. she likes doing dumb, annoying, mundane things like taking out the trash. she appreciates steve’s concern, knows he means well, that he’s just trying to make it easy for her since she’s still recovering (even half a year later), but she can do it. she wants to do it.

so she clambers to her feet and crosses the room to take the trash bag from eddie.

“sure thing, mom,” she says, looking right at eddie, and it sort of just slips out. the nickname. mom. she’s never called him that before. no one has.

eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

the rest of the party erupts into confusion because why are you calling eddie mom? that’s steve’s nickname, remember?

and, well, maybe that’s true. but steve’s not the one pretending to write max letters from her mom. steve’s not the one scribbling down the words of encouragement that max never knew she needed to hear so badly. steve’s not the one signing the cards love you, mom xx.

eddie is.

max meets eddie’s eyes, turns her look pointed.

she can see the second it clicks in eddie’s brain. she knows. his easy, relaxed stature tenses. his eyes swim with worry — like he’s nervous, unsure. like he doesn’t know how max is going to react to this. like he thinks maybe she’ll be pissed at him.

but she’s not. she’s not at all. those letters — they mean more to max than she could ever express.

max can’t put it into words — wouldn’t want to in front of all of these people, anyways — so she just lets her mouth curve up. gives him one of her rare smiles.

she watches the tension drain from his shoulders, watches as his own lips twitch up, a slow blossom into something sunny and warm. something just for her. he gives her a nod. then says, “thanks, kid.”

max nods back.

and that’s that.

even though the kids keep calling steve mom, from that moment on, max saves that one for eddie.

it never does get explained to the rest of the party, but that’s okay. they laugh about it in their letters.

because, oh yeah, those still keep coming.

and max sends her own back, too.

love you, mom xx

love you, max xx

#eddie munson #max mayfield #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie and max sibling supremacy!!!!#edde and max are SO IMPORTANT TO ME!!!#mack writes #macks ficlets

283 notes · View notes

f4iry-bell · 1 month

Text

Stained shirt and two seats for one | part 3

a bit short and kind of meh, istg it was fun when i was playing this scene in cai. ANYWAY

← previous part

It has been over a month since Arya went to London and had an almost perfect day with a stranger she met. She can still remember everything about that day, the places, the food, the conversation. She wanted him to ask Arya her number badly, so they could stay in touch. Something about that man was attractive and it's not just the way he looks. While he was showing her around she saw him actually chuckle and laugh, it was a sight to behold. For weeks Arya thought about that day. But as time went by she realised she'll never see him again and concentrated on her work.

She was in her agency’s work place looking at some articles about their client. She had to stop her work because one of her co-workers told her someone was here to see her. Her family doesn't live in Singapore, she has very few friends who have their own work to do during this time. She wondered who it might be.

Her brows came together when she saw who it was waiting for her in the lobby.

“Grayson?” She was extremely confused. How is he here? And why? “What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice seeing you again as well, Arya” He says with a calm smile.

“Well yeah. Answer my question” She asked, he can tell that she's freaking out by the look on her face.

“A friend of mine needs a good PR team. And I thought about your agency” He said with his hands in his pocket.

“Okay. How did you know where I worked?” She asked.

“I looked it up, you mentioned your agency’s name that day” He replied casually.

“I did, didn't I?” She let out a chuckle. They talked too much that day, she probably told him the name. “Anyway, follow me. I'll take you to my boss” She told him and started walking inside.

Grayson talked to Arya’s manager for about an hour. Too long to be honest, she wondered what he could be talking that long. Finally he came out and walked to her.

“Well?” She asked.

“Your boss agreed to appoint a team for my friend.” He said.

“That's good. Hopefully I'll get a rise since I’m the reason the agency got a new client” She smiled.

“Maybe, maybe not. Anyways, when will you get off work?” He asked her.

“I can leave in like half an hour?” She checks the time.

“Alright, I'm going to be in Singapore for a while, for business reasons. I thought maybe we could spend time together. I really enjoyed our time in London” He told her

That made her smile which made his heart flutter “I’d love to”

After she got off work, she went to the lobby to find Grayson waiting for her. Once he saw her come out he immediately got up from his seat.

“Where do you think we should go?” He asked her.

“Oh I know! I know a perfect place, just follow me” She said out of excitement and grabbed his hands leading him opposite to the parking lot. Grayson didn't mind where she was taking him, as long as he gets to spend time with her.

They both were walking on the pavement when she realised “Wait, you came by your car?” She asked as she stopped walking.

“Yes”

“And your car is still in the parking lot?”

“You'd be right”

“Why didn't you stop me from dragging you! Now you have to go all the way back to get your car.” She said.

He just shrugged. “It's fine, I'll have someone pick it up for me”

“Rich people,” She mumbled.

He just chuckled in response.

Once they reached the metro station she started walking fast.

“We have to hurry, come on.” She said.

“Why?” He asked, keeping up with her.

“Have you travelled in a metro before?” She asked.

“No”

“Figured. If we don't stand right in front of the train door we might not get a seat! And we'll have to stand!” She told him as he chuckled.

“What's so wrong about standing?” He asked.

“What is good about it?” She asked and they stood right in front of where the train door would be. They both got in and saw that the seats were full.

“Sad”

“It's fine,” Grayson said.

Grayson heard her talk about this place she is taking him, and how pretty it looks. Like before she used her hands to talk and did not hold onto the road for support, when the train stopped suddenly she lost her balance and held onto Grayson's arm.

“Sorry about that” She chuckled and grabbed the road.

They finally arrive at the small restaurant which was painted in baby blue and yellow. As they walked in he noticed that even the chairs and tables were in blue and yellow. The place wasn't big, but it had so many photographs and paintings hung on the wall. She chose a table and sat down, Grayson sat opposite to her.

“I swear they serve the best pasta here” She tf him with such confidence.

“We’ll see”

“Do you not believe me, Grayson?” She let out a fake offensive gasp.

“Of course not” He chuckled. They both ordered their food and talked more.

“So you have four half brothers and two half sisters. Same mother with brothers and different fathers each, and your hand twin sisters same father different mother, did I make any mistake?” She asked.

Grayson chuckled. “You're right” His family is complicated. He quickly changed the subject because he doesn't like talking about his family, it'll involve talking about things that he isn't proud of. All he wants to do is have a good dinner with a pretty girl. And that is what he is doing.

They had a small argument when it came to paying the bill. Grayson wanted to pay for both but she didn't let him.

“You just can't pay my share,” She said.

“Why is that?”

“You just can't”

“I need a reason”

“Because this isn't a date”

“Okay, you pay your share this time.” He sighs and adds “Next time, I'll pay for both of us”

“Nuh uh” She said.

“I said what I said, end of discussion. When can I see you again?” He asked. He is surprised by himself because it has been forever since he took an interest in a girl. And he doesn't act this way, this was desperate. But he doesn't care.

next part →

#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game

17 notes · View notes

athenaseden · 1 year

Text

its like an hour late but i had things i really wanted to add. this is my gift exchange for @roobroker . please enjoy. ( @abbottgiftexchange ) i hope this formats right ....

_________

Janine has an appointment after school and has asked if Barbara could pick her son up and watch them for an hour or two. Barbara had agreed with ease having missed Caleb since seeing him a month ago. As soon as bus duty was over, the woman kissed Melissa a quick goodbye and reminded her to keep her updated on the parent teacher conference. Barbara knew exactly what daycare Janine put Caleb in, aside from having picked him up before she was the one who suggested it in the first place. The trip was a little more than 10 minutes due to afterschool traffic and while she hated driving into school traffic, it was worth it to see Caleb. Making sure to grab her ID after arriving, she made her way in the front door. In the front office sits a few kids, maybe two years old. A gentleman sets one of them down on a playing mat after seeing her, “Afternoon, who are you here for?”

Barbara smiles at him, “Caleb Teagues, please.” He nods and repeats the name into a walkie, “Send Caleb Teagues to the front for pick up.” Waiting for a reply before he turns back to her, “Don’t forget to sign him out when he arrives.” He then goes back to the play mat to clean up. Barbara steps away from the door and waits leaning her back on the wall. She can hear him coming by the running feet approaching and the “Auntie! Auntie!” His mother clearly told him who was picking him up today. When he makes it to the doorway he stops and just yells, “Auntie!” again.

“Hey, baby.” She calls back and he is back in motion again. Only barely not slamming into her knees, still she grabs the wall to keep herself up. He doesn’t let go immediately and her heart swells a little because of it. She gets to see Caleb more often than her grandkids and being with her makes her miss them every so often. He finally lets go and she leans down to squeeze his shoulder, “Let’s get to the car first, then you can tell Auntie everything okay?” He nods showing his missing teeth with joy. Quickly as she can, she signs him out and checks her phone. The parents for the conference tonight arrived just after she left, Melissa would be done with her meeting much quicker than either expected.

Finally ready to leave the building she extends her hand for the little Teagues to take and pushes open the door. As she walks, she can feel his little skips in his stride. “Your Auntie Melissa bought you ice cream last night.” Barbara waits for the incoming squeal before she continues. “We have to go pick her up first.” He nods and kicks into a full skip as they round the car. “Why she didn’t come with you?” She unlocks the car and helps him out of his backpack, correcting his sentence before she answers, “Why didn’t she come with me?” Caleb just nods, stepping into the car and plopping into his seat. She misses when he was small enough for her to pick up. It wasn’t that long ago, the precious boy being small like his mother.

Barbara buckles the boy into his car seat while answering, “She is with someone’s parents. That’s why we have to pick her up.” Swinging his feet and nodding his head, “Okay, yay!” She chuckles and shuts the door back at him. Once she gets in the front seat, he begins to talk about his day. At his speed, she understands some things, like they had applesauce with lunch and colorful spotted cookies for a snack which she tells him were M&M cookies. By the time they have arrived at Abbott he has started talking about his blankets and toys with great detail.

She parks up front in the half empty lot in front of the school. Picking up her phone she sees the text from Melissa that the meeting is over and just to text her when they arrived. Unbuckling, she turns in her seat, “Caleb, smile for Auntie.” With pride he cheeses at her phone and blinks at the flash as she takes the picture. Although his eyes are closed the picture is too cute not to send. Texting Melissa afterwards, ‘Waiting for you out front.’ From the back seat, playing with his lanyard Caleb asks, “What kind of ice cream?” Thinking for a moment, she can’t seem to remember what ice cream Melissa bought, seeing the bag, or the receipt. Rather than admitting she doesn’t know, she lays the responsibility on Melissa, “You’ll have to ask Mel when she gets in.”

The two sit there talking mostly about Caleb and his toys or classmates until Caleb spots the red head coming their way. He bounces in his car seat, points, and laughs happily. Melissa is walking their way, hair over one shoulder and her large black bag over the other. Barbara points behind her as Melissa gets closer, directing her attention to the beaming child behind her. Opening the front door, only to set her back down and open the back down and lean in to tickle Caleb. “Hey, big boy!” He giggles and tries to tickle her back, although his hands are on her shoulders rather than her stomach. Chuckling at him, she pulls away, “Let me see that smile.”

Grinning wide for Melissa, he still tries to talk, “see my ‘issing eeth?” Melissa nods and starts counting, “Missing three! Your big boy teeth will be coming in soon.” Dropping his smile and looking at her questioningly, “But I am a big boy already.” Barbara has to laugh from the front seat, “Yes, but you will get much big, baby.” Seeming to be the answer he needs, he simply says, “Okay.” Lightly squeezing his cheek, Melissa steps back and shuts the door before getting in the car. Behind her, Caleb is feeling for his missing teeth, “Finger out of your mouth, hun.”

Sitting down comfortably, Melissa leans over the console and kisses Barbara who briefly asks about the meeting again. “It was good. Mostly a progress check from the last meeting.” Barbara nods and kisses her one last time before Melissa can move back to her seat. While buckling, Caleb’s voice fills the car again, “What ice cream ‘d you get me, Auntie Messa?” Turning to her wife with a raised eyebrow, Melissa mouths, “I’m gonna get you.” seeing as her ice cream is being offered up to her favorite nephew she’s not actually all that mad. Looking in the mirror to talk to him, “We have vanilla bean and cookies ‘n cream.” Avoiding listing the one she’s most protective of.

Barbara is pulling out as more questions come from their back seat, “What color is vanilla bean?”

“White, I guess, hun.”

“But it’s a bean. Beans are gween.”

“Not that type of bean, sweet boy.”

“So it’s sweet?”

“Yes. Very.”

“What kinda cookies are in the ice cream?”

“Oreo cookies.”

“The black crackers?”

“Yes, with the white cream in the middle.”

Similar questions follow them all the way home, even all the way inside until the ice creams are set in front of him. The vanilla bean is in a black container while the cookies n cream is in a yellow one, so he chooses the brighter one. Grabbing three spoons as Melissa scoops out one bowl of cookies n cream and two vanilla bean, Caleb stands politely waiting to help her. Putting one spoon in each bowl and hand one to him, “Hold it with both hands.” Caleb nods and walks with both hands on the bowl, putting it on the table first and then climbing into his favorite chair at the dining table. Barbara joins them not too long after. As they eat their ice cream, Caleb tells Melissa many of the same things Barbara has heard in the car. This time he adds details, like how he has a TRex stuff and a plastic velociraptor which takes them three times to understand, his blue cubby at school and his new light up shoes.

Melissa and Barbara sit side by side, holding hands and listening intently, catching up on months worth of events. They only cut him off once he has finished his ice cream. “Let’s clean this up.” Barbara stands taking their bowls and walking to the drain with them. Caleb hops off of his seat and walks over to the dishwasher pulling it open. He waits beside her to help her load them. Though Barbara doesn’t often use the dishwasher, she won’t deny that him offering to help makes her proud. “Such good manners.”

Barbara rinses the bowls and spoons and passes them to him who sets them a little sloppily in the bottom rack. While she dries her hand, she gives him instructions on the correct way to place them in the rack. When he is done, she still bends down to adjust a few things. Melissa stands against the door nodding her head, “Nice job. Very good, honey. Want to play a game?” Running to her legs the same as he had Barbara’s at the daycare, “What game?” Arms locked around her knees, she clutches the wall and looks up at Barbara for help. “Think you can be Auntie Mel at Connect 4 now?” Leaning back now, using her legs as a pivot, “I think so!” Melissa groans a little in pain and leans down the same time as Barbara to pull him free, nearly butting heads. “You’ve got to let go so I can get the game. Then we’ll see if you can beat me.”

For the next hour, Melissa sits on the floor with Caleb reteaching him how to play Connect 4 and enjoying watching how excited he got even when he lost. Barbara sits on the couch behind Caleb trying her best to help him and throws Melissa a pillow to hopefully help relieve what will most certainly be a painful back later. Once Barbara receives the message that Janine is headed their way, she announces it as their last game. Both on the floor pouting, “Last game, then you can clean up and come cuddle with me before your mom gets here.” Melissa’s pout disappears and she leans over their game to whisper, “Last game, loser has to tickle Barbara.” Caleb giggles and reaches out to Melissa, “I win, I tickle you.” The red head laughs and shakes her head, not finding it in her to correct him. He loses again, proudly. They clean up with Melissa poking at him and him giggling and returning to the poke. Barbara takes the box from them once it is done to put it up. Melissa does her best to get off the floor and on the couch.

Barely having sat down, Caleb jumps in her lap and begins to tickle her. “I win. I got you.” She laughs and grabs his hand, “No, honey. I won. I’ve got you.” before attacking him with tickles. When Barbara returns, she watches for just a second before bending over the couch and joining in. For the first time in months their home is filled with the laughter of a child for an extended period of time.

#this is very long i apologize #abbott elementary #barbara x melissa #barbara howard #work wives #janine teagues #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary gift exchange

42 notes · View notes

babyharleezy · 2 years

Text

Hometown Love Chapter 2

(jack harlow x reader)

bloo's notes: i hope y'all liked the first part. let's see what's next up for the reader!! enjoy babes!!

6 am. your alarm woke you up and you reached over to the nightstand to shut the annoying sound off. today you would be driving down to atlanta and look for some apartments. you couldn't help to have a giddy feeling within you. you were excited. you were proud of yourself and how far you've came.

you finally got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. you did your morning routine and got dressed for the day. you grabbed the bag you packed before making your way out the door. you locked the door to your apartment and made your way to your car. you threw your bag into the car and got yourself settled. you decided to put on a random playlist. you knew you had a long drive so might as well shake some ass listen to some good music on your way to your destination.

three hours in and you were vibing to music and you were half way to atlanta. suddenly a familiar voice filled the car. you froze. "damn this man be everywhere" you scoffed. you listened to the song a bit more and it hit you. "holy shit this is a sample of glamorous" you gasped. as much as you hated to admit it, this was such a catchy song and you loved it. the song finished just as you began to pull into the gas station. you stepped out the car and went into the gas station store and grabbed some snacks. then you went to fill your tank. you loved a good road trip. not long after, you continued your journey to atlanta.

about three and a half hours later you were at your hotel. you grabbed your bag and walked into the hotel lobby. "miss y/l/n your room will be on the seventh floor, here are your room keys" the receptionist said with a warm smile. "thank you so much" you replied, matching her energy. you made your way to your room and settled down. you decided to freshen up before your appointment with the realtor who was going to show you the apartment you saw online. you had about two hours to kill so you decided to take a shower and order in room service to pass the time.

you made your way down to your car to meet the realtor. you typed in the address and were on your way to the apartment. after meeting the realtor and taking a tour of the place you were in love. you immediately signed the papers. luckily you got the keys right then and there. you were left alone in your new apartment and you felt a bit overwhelmed. everything happened so fast but you felt so sure about the move.

deciding to leave the next day you texted your friend neelam who stayed in atlanta and asked if she wanted to meet up for dinner. although she was jack's manager, you two had been close friends even before the breakup and you and her stayed in touch after all these years. this would be the first time since the breakup that you would be seeing each other. you two met up at a cute restaurant and you told her about how you were moving down here within the next week. after some catching up and a delicious dinner you two parted ways.

not even 10 miles from y/n was jack…

"she's what?" jack questioned over the phone. his manager thought it would be best to warn him that his ex girlfriend, who he was still very much in love with, was moving to atlanta. "yeah jack she's moving here within the next week or so. she just signed the papers to a new apartment. just try not to fuck up her life again" neelam said with a sigh. "yeah, i know neelam. preciate you tellin me" jack said. he couldn't believe that you two would be living in the same city once again.

while you were sleeping cozily in your hotel, ready to drive back to louisville the next day; jack was wide awake still trying to wrap his mind around how you were gonna be in such close vicinity to him. but the both of you were unsure just about how close you two were about to be.

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfiction

139 notes · View notes

clareguilty · 3 years

Text

Gabriel Reyes/reader, a/b/o and The Works™

this is the third kinktober prompt for this year!!!

Gabriel Reyes/fem!reader | a/b/o, marking, biting, praise, all that jazz Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~3000

Jack Morrison was getting another medal.

It was everyone’s favorite joke at high command. It seemed like no one wanted to implement any serious policy or sign an actual resolution in favor of giving the golden boy of the Omnic Crisis another fancy award.

So Jack had been stressing himself out all week trying to write an acceptance speech that wasn’t passive aggressive, and you spent too long picking out a formal gown, and Gabe had sat on Reinhardt’s desk laughing and stuffing his face with carbs and fruit because his rut was due next week.

Jack took the teasing in stride and managed to come up with a speech that wouldn’t outright offend the Prime Minster of Russia. Everyone piled into the jet to Moscow with a garment bag and a carryon and a strong cup of coffee at four am the day before the banquet.

This was normal for you. In a world after the omnic crisis, head of Overwatch’s reparations department and mated to the commander of Blackwatch. You found yourself flown across the world dozens of times a year for negotiations and assemblies and ceremonies.

You and Gabe strapped in next to each other on the jet. “I haven’t seen the dress you picked out,” he nodded his head to the garment bag.

“I guess it will just be a surprise,” you purred.

He grinned and leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s too early for this,” Ana groaned from across the aisle. Gabe shot her a toothy smile and made sure to nip at the shell of your ear. You smacked his leg and shoved him back into his own seat.

The hotel was a beautiful historic waterfront building just across the bridge from the Kremlin in the heart of the city. The five of you piled out of the black SUV that had escorted you from the airstrip and made your way inside.

The hotel manager greeted you as well as an official from the Kremlin. Jack was the main recipient of ass kissing and pleasantries, so you simply smiled and nodded and shook hands wherever necessary.

The suite was entirely too big and fancy for a two night’s stay. You and Gabe poked around for a bit, but there were no fun secrets. You took the sitting room, and Gabe set up at the desk in the bedroom as you both buckled down on your work for the day. Gabe had operatives in Bolivia he needed to check in with, and you had a meeting with representatives in London.

He found you a few hours later slumped in the armchair with your head in your hands.

“They still being stubborn?” he asked.

“They won’t budge on anything,” you groaned.

“Change into something casual. Let’s go out for a little bit.” He was already in a hoodie and dark jeans, beanie sticking out of the back pocket.

You nodded and went to find a sweater.

Gabe’s impromptu date night in Moscow turned out to be a lot of fun. Ana and Reinhardt came to meet you at a bar for a little bit, and the two of you wandered around the city until sundown.

The next day was more meetings and frustration until you had to get ready for the banquet. You and Gabe slipped past each other in and out of the bathroom as you showered and shaved and styled your hair and perfumed and moisturized.

You shimmied into the dress half an hour before the car was due to pick you up. It was slim and black, sleeveless with one band that crossed over your collarbone and shoulder. You frowned when you realized it covered your matebite, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Gabe grinned salaciously as he zipped you up, unable to resist leaning down and nuzzling into your neck. “Cool it.” You shoved him off with a giggle. “I have to make it through a whole ceremony and dinner.”

He pulled on his jacket and the two of you made your way downstairs to wait for the car.

For some reason, the event coordinators split you into three cars. Jack rode by himself, you and Gabe in one car, and Ana and Reinhardt in the last. They looked intimidating in their dress uniforms, and you felt kind of ditzy in your sexy cocktail dress next to three enormous well decorated Overwatch officers.

The ceremony was only slightly dull, and you clapped at all the right spots and pinched Gabe when he looked like he was zoning out too much.

Dinner was much more enjoyable. You had been seated with people you knew from other events and assemblies, so conversation flowed well. A string ensemble played and a few people got up to dance or mingle once they cleared their plates. You caught sight of a British Parliament member speaking with a small group of tuxedoed men, and Gabe saw the determination in your eyes.

“Go get him, sweetheart,” he kissed your cheek and pushed you towards the Lord. You excused yourself quickly and approached the older gentleman ready to push for your negotiations to take center stage in the Palace of Westminster.

The poor Lord was not expecting to be accosted by you at a banquet, but graciously listened as you explained your struggles in negotiating reparations in London.

“You’ve got some real fire in you,” one of the tuxedoes remarked as you shook the Lord’s hand and he scampered away sufficiently cowed. He had an American accent and shiny hair. He reeked of confidence and you knew it was a combination of his nationality and his status as an Alpha.

You cocked your head nonchalantly. “Takes a lot of persistence to get anything done in Parliament.” You knew he was probably referencing the fact that you, a tiny omega, had just approached a government official and demanded that he push for your cause, but you brushed it off. Most of the time people were respectful, but you still ran into pushback every now and then because of your status.

The American laughed, tossing his head back. “And wit to match!” A waiter came by with champagne and he snatched a glass to press into your hands. “What’s your name?” he asked, placing a hand on your back and guiding you back into the crowd of tuxes.

You tensed under his touch. This wasn’t your Alpha. It was extraordinarily rude to touch anyone without permission, especially an omega. But still, you had to be polite, so you introduced yourself.

“If you ever need any help getting through to politicians, you should give me a call. I’m on the UN Peace Council, you know? I was appointed during the crisis.” That information was probably supposed to impress you. It probably would have if you were anyone else.

You nodded politely, taking a tiny sip of champagne and glancing over your shoulder to look for Gabe. You had your own gripes with the UN peace council. Jack and Gabe butted heads with them nearly every other week.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smiled, attempting to turn and address the other men.

“Here,” the American pulled out his phone. “Let me get your number. Maybe we could meet up for drinks before we both leave Moscow?”

“Oh,” you found your escape. “I left my phone back at my table.” You turned to make your way back to Gabe and Ana, but the UN asshole grabbed your arm. You knew exactly what this was. This guy probably didn’t run into many omegas in professional settings, and he thought you would just go along with everything he said because he was some big shot Alpha.

Laughable. You were a high ranking member of Overwatch. A diplomat. The mate of Gabriel Fucking Reyes.

“Just put your number in and I’ll text you,” he insisted. You struggled out of his grasp and shot him the sternest look you could manage.

He laughed again. “I love how feisty you are!”

Clearly, everyone in the vicinity was also uncomfortable with the exchange. This was not the time nor the place to be asserting dominance over an omega.

Your blood boiled. You didn’t want to make a scene at Jack’s reception -- though he probably would have loved it -- but you were seriously about to deck this guy.

“Cariña,” a familiar voice washed over you and the effect was immediate. You leaned back into Gabe’s chest, taking a deep breath to slow your heart rate. “Jack was looking for you. He wanted to introduce you to someone.”

The American Alpha puffed his chest out, clearly ready to challenge until he took one look at Gabe.

“Commander Reyes,” he greeted. All of the bravado and pushiness was gone in an instant.

“Hello.” Gabe was stiff, clearly trying to hold his tongue. His arms snaked around your waist and he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Would you hate me if we left right now?”

“Absolutely not,” you spun in his embrace so you could look up at him. His expression was stoic as always, but you could see the tension and the anger in his eyes.

You didn’t even look back as Gabe walked you to the table to collect your things. It was a little rude to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and you weren’t sure if Jack had actually wanted to introduce you to someone, but Gabe looked ready to tear someone’s head off.

He stopped caring about decency the moment the car door closed.

There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver considering how enormous your mate was in the tiny sedan backseat, but he pinned you to the leather seats and kissed you like his life depended on it. You wound your fingers into his curls, gasping as his hands slid under your skirt and up your thighs. The driver coughed, and you giggled at the slow whir of the partition motor giving the two of you some privacy.

“I can’t believe he touched you,” Gabe snarled.

You shivered both at the possessive edge in his voice and the disgusting memory of the other Alpha’s hand on your arm.

“Make me forget about him,” you whispered, hooking your leg around his hips.

He rose to the challenge. Super soldier strength shredded your lace underwear, dress hiked up around your hips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up your thigh at a torturously slow pace. He had barely sucked a mark into the skin when the car stopped. A glance out the tinted window showed that you were back at the hotel.

“Thank you!” you called to the driver in your terrible russian accent as you yanked your dress back down and teetered on your heels on the pavement. Gabe half carried you with an arm around your waist as you breezed through the lobby to the elevator.

The elevator was another brief attempt to continue. You managed to get Gabe’s jacket and shirt open before the door slid open and you were staggering down the hall.

He dragged you into the bedroom, pinning you to the bed on your stomach so he could yank down the zipper on your dress. He couldn’t keep his lips away from your neck. The moment your matebite was uncovered he dragged his teeth over the mark. A shiver ran all the way down your spine.

“You’re never covering this up again,” he growled, rutting against your hips clumsily. “I want everyone to see that you belong to me.”

The words made your stomach flip. You wriggled your way around onto your back, pushing your dress over your hips and to the floor. “You’re going to hit your rut early.”

He didn’t seem fazed. “I’ll just fuck you until we have to leave for the flight.”

You figured Ana, Jack, and Reinhardt wouldn’t appreciate Gabe in the throes of his rut on the flight back to base tomorrow, but they had probably experienced it before. You could only imagine how bad he was back during the crisis. The thought only made you wetter.

He must have sense the spike in arousal, because he settled more of his weight on top of you. “What are you thinking about?” he demanded.

“You. During the crisis. Alpha Commander Gabriel Reyes.” You trailed a finger down his chest. “Were your ruts worse than they are now?”

He smirked. “They’ve gotten worse again since meeting you.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, mustering the last of your coordination to get Gabe undressed. He made sure you were laid out comfortably on the bed -- grabbing a few pillows to place under your hips and head -- before sinking all the way inside you to the swell of his knot.

Gabe always fit inside you so well. The perfect stretch. And he filled you so deep when he knotted you. You knew that his ruts could get intense, and you would probably be exhausted and sore by the end of it. Still, you had been mated for a few years now, so you had figured out how to manage.

“You feel so good.” You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the situation.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to knot you so good.” He rocked forward, teasing you with the stretch.

“Please,” you begged, nails scratching at the shaved hair at the back of his head.

He shuddered and set an impossible pace as he began to fuck you. Sometimes you forgot that you weren’t just mated to an Alpha, but to a super soldier. No one else could fuck you like he did.

“You want my knot? Want me to breed you full? Want me to remind you who you belong to?” His words were low against you skin as he kissed along your neck. One of his hands was rubbing your clit, the other holding your thighs open so he could reach deep inside you with every thrust.

“Yours,” you gasped. “I’m yours.”

His teeth found the unmarked skin of your neck, just above your collarbone -- opposite the side of where your matebite was. The skin was practically electrified, especially when Gabe was fucking you like this. He didn’t bite down, but the sensation alone was enough to have you coming on his cock.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That was so good for me, baby. You’re so perfect.”

“Do it,” you begged. “Bite me. Please.” It was a little unorthodox. Normally couples only exchanged one bite. A bite on both sides was usually the sign of a triad or a pack. But you had just been touched by another alpha and Gabe was fucking you so good and you wanted him in every way possible.

He blinked, trying to think through the haze of his rut. “You want that?” He didn’t even wait for you to respond. The thought alone had him spilling inside of you, and he pulled you onto his knot. His teeth found that same patch of sensitive, unmarked skin, and he bit down just as he locked inside of you.

Nothing felt better than coming to the sensation of being claimed. It was the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced.

“Fuck you’re perfect. My perfect little omega. You wear my marks so well. Everyone is going to know exactly who you belong too.”

You couldn’t respond. Too busy marking Gabe’s chest with hickeys and lovebites. He was too massive for you to reach his neck, but you would make do. You were still coming down off the intense rush of endorphins, and everything was a little fuzzy and felt just a little too good too much too fast. You had come twice in less than the span of a minute, and Gabe was only just getting started.

He soothed the aching bite, holding you close as you were locked together. His knot probably wouldn’t go down for a while, but he was less riled up than before now that he had satisfied himself somewhat.

“I love you,” he kissed the top of your head, rolling so you could lay on his chest.

“I-” You cut yourself off, blushed, and buried your face in his pecs. You would happily die there.

“Yes?” He was curious now. You weren’t usually shy with him.

“I’ve been working on something. It’s super embarrassing.” You didn’t look up.

He lifted your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What’s embarrassing? I just dragged you out of a dinner party at the Kremlin so I could fuck you. I think I’m the more embarrassing of the two fo us.”

You laughed and kissed his chest right above his heart. Mustering all of your courage, you found your voice:

“Te amo. Me encanta pertenecer a ti. Tú eres mi mayor alegría.”

Your accent was decent, but you had no clue if your grammar was correct. The words were unfamiliar and clumsy, even though you had practiced them a hundred times. Spanish was not a language you were familiar with, but you knew that Gabe had grown up hearing it. You wanted to try and learn for him.

He understood immediately what you were tying to say, and you could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath you.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whined, smacking him lightly on the side.

“I’m sorry,” he grabbed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “It was very sweet. I love you too.”

“I need a lot more practice,” you pouted.

He petted your hair, staring at you with a dopey, lovestruck expression. “I can’t believe you let me bite you again.”

You shrugged, feeling the pull and ache of the new mark in the motion. “We can let one of them fade.”

He smirked. “What if I like you like this?”

You bared your own teeth. “Can I return the favor?”

You weren’t expecting to rile him up, but the words were enough to make his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You good to go again?”

You nodded, pushing up to a seat so you could ride him. He grabbed your hips, holding tightly as you slowly rocked against him. You knew the pace was probably no where near what he needed, but you wanted to take your time.

He didn’t give you the opportunity, rolling to pin you beneath him again and dragging your hips up to his. “You wanna bite me? You better earn it.”

#gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes/reader #reaper/reader #reaper x reader #reaper #smut #lemons #kinktober 2021 #ow fanfic #Overwatch #overwatch fanfic #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega au

614 notes · View notes

letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

698 notes · View notes

babyboy-cody · 3 years

Text

ch. 01 | finding out

summary: after feeling so different for the past week, you decided to go to the doctor in order to find out what was actually wrong with you. the cause of you feeling this way was something you weren’t expecting.

warnings: depictions of early signs of pregnancy, clueless grayson, mentions of sean, implications of smut, mentions of abortion

quick note: okay so this is my first ever grayson series, so hopefully i make you guys proud. some of the pregnancy signs are things that some people don’t go through, so i wanted to make it as realistic as possible. any feedback would be great! <3

word count: 2.6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Waking up early in the morning, you never expected to feel like shit. From the position you were laying in, your tender breasts were pressed into the bed, causing you the slightest pain. You groaned and winced as you went to turn. Just from moving, you felt nauseous and dizzy, the blinding light from the sun pouring into the room caused you to squint. Grayson wasn’t in bed beside you as usual. He always woke up at the ass crack of dawn to start his morning routines of breakfast, exercising for two hours, and shower. The rest of his day is spent doing activities, such as woodworking/building, spending time with you, long-boarding, or exercising some more.

A wave of cramps suddenly hit you, causing you to muffle your long moan into your pillow. You tucked your body into the fetal position, tucking your hand under your sweatpants to press down on your lower stomach, hoping that the pressure would ease the aggravating pain. For the past week, you’ve been constantly getting cramps. The breast tenderness happened only a day later. Premature cramps are the usual sign of starting your period. What confuses you is why you woke up with no blood staining your underwear or pants.

Sluggishly grabbing your phone from under your pillow, you opened up your usual period app. The last time you had gotten your period was exactly the same day as last month. Your eyebrows furrow when you see that you should’ve started your period exactly two weeks ago. You hastily sit up, immediately shutting your eyes as a wave of nausea hit you like a tsunami. There was brief commotion coming from the kitchen, followed by Grayson yelling, “Ethaaannn!” You faintly heard Ethan’s boisterous laugh, which only amped up his younger brother’s annoyance.

You swallowed the forming saliva at the back of your mouth. You suddenly felt so exhausted, even though you had a whole ten hour rests with no interruptions or disruptions. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you slowly got up, shutting your eyes to avoid feeling dizzy so fast. You desperately craved Grayson’s warm skin against yours in order to make you feel better, especially when his strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you nice and tight against him. As though the universe heard your thoughts, Grayson enters the bedroom, a comfy hoodie adorning his upper body as gray sweats adorn his lower half. He looks so comfy and warm and soft with his messy hair and growing bed and bright smile.

“Look who’s finally awake!” He announced and spread his arms wide, running over to playfully (and gently) tackle you into the bed.

“Gray, Gray, baby, be gentle,” you quickly told him, hands grabbing onto his arm as the room suddenly spun. “I’m not feeling too good today.”

He immediately sat up, using one hand to push his long hair from his face as the other slowly sits you up. His eyes were full of worry as they scan you up and down. You smiled tiredly and gently stroked his jaw, loving the feeling of his scruff on your palm.

“What’ve you been feeling?” He was quick to ask you, desperately wanting to know why you’ve been feeling sick and what could’ve caused it. “Do you think it’s cause E was sick last week?”

“I mean, maybe,” you shrugged. “I’ve been getting cramps and my boobs have been hurting as usual before I get my period.”

“So you’re starting you’re period?” He questioned, thinking that could be the reason.

“I don’t think so, babe. I’m getting symptoms I’ve never gotten before and it’s worrying me,” you quietly told him, your voice holding such worry that he’s never heard before. “I’m so exhausted and dizzy and I can’t even stand without feeling like I’m gonna pass out.” You rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the uncomfortable churning in your stomach as you suddenly thought about eating. “I can’t even think about food without feeling like I’m gonna throw up everywhere.”

“Baby, you need to make an appointment for the doctor or the GYN to see what’s going on. You don’t know if this could be something serious,” Grayson anxiously tells you, his large hands cupping your cheeks to make eye contact with you, his thumbs lightly stroking your warm skin back and forth.

“I will,” you held onto his wrists. “I promise.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

After your serious talk with Grayson yesterday, you made an appointment to go to the gynecologist the very next day. Nerves were bubbling in the pit of your stomach, causing you to use the bathroom four times in the past hour. Ethan and Kristina were worried as well, unsure of what to do or say to make you feel at ease and less anxious. If what’s causing your sickness something terminal, they knew that Grayson would quite literally go insane. You were his person. Grayson was a believer of soulmates, and he knew deep in his heart and soul that you were his.

This morning, it was eerily quite. The air was awkward and tense with no one knowing how to break the ice. Grayson’s jaw was clenched and he watched your every move carefully. You were feeling a little better, only eating in small quantities and being forced to drink lots of water (by Grayson). Your appointment wasn’t until 2 in the afternoon, so you had plenty of time to do your morning routine and talk to Grayson. He insisted on staying in the bathroom when you shower and do your skin care.

“Gray, I’m not dying,” you joked lightly.

“Don’t fucking joke like that!” He raised his voice, glaring up at you as he sat on the edge of the top, elbows on his knees with his fingers interlocked. “That’s not fucking funny.” There was anger in his tone, and you realized how insensitive it was of you.

You knelt down in front of him, unlocked his hands and slithering more between his spread knees. He doesn’t look at you as he looks down at the ground between your own knees. “Hey,” you whisper, hands on his broad shoulders, lightly shaking them. “Look at me, please.” When he does, you see the slightest of tears along his waterline. Your heart breaks when his face scrunches up in agony and his eyes shut, his hands immediately covering his face to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Grayson…”

He sniffles into his hands, shaking his head frantically. “I can’t lose you,” he weeped so softly, his voice muffled behind the barrier of his hands. “I can’t fuckin’ lose you the same way I lost my dad. I-I just can’t.” You let him pour out his emotions, all the while holding onto his shoulders and gently pushing his hands away from his face to wipe away his warm tears. The area around his eyes and cheeks were tinged red, his beautiful eyes now turning puffy. “You don’t understand h-how broken I’d be without you, Y/N. It’s like… a piece of me might die.”

“Baby,” you whispered brokenly, shaking your head as you hurriedly pull him into your chest. His head buries itself in the crook of your neck. “I am so so sorry for making that joke, alright? Hey, look at me.” You lift his head up, wiping more of his tears with your thumbs. “I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that everything is okay.” At the sound of your soft whisper, he lets out a quiet and shaky sigh. The thought of now hearing your voice anymore physically hurts his heart. He hesitatingly nods, desperately wanting to believe your words. But looking into your eyes this very moment, seeing the determination and confidence in your face, he has no other choice but to believe you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Sitting on the exam table in the cold room that slightly smells of hand sanitizer and wood, you didn’t know what else to think. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess as they tried to unravel itself to form a coherent sentence in your head. Grayson wanted to come in with you, but you had told him to stay in the car, out of fear of him hearing dreadful news. You closed your eyes and breathed in and out deeply, trying to calm the storm that’s beginning to make itself known. What you didn’t hearing was the door opening and the OB-GYN, Dr. Khaleesi, stepping in. She was a lovely Indian woman who was older than you by 20 years. You’ve been coming to her for a year and a half now for your usual STD checkups or any worries you had with your uterus. She was the sweetest woman you’ve come to known and you never felt judged by her.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” She asks as she shuts the door, leaving you both in privacy. She holds the clipboard to her side and sits onto the rolling stool to slide herself closer to you.

“Just nervous,” you laughed awkwardly.

“Well, it’s just me,” she tells you softly, her accent sounding so elegant as she gently pats your knee. “Now, it says on the appointment form that you’re hear for a checkup regarding your period.”

“Yes, um, I’m late on my period - about two weeks now. But I’ve been feeling a lot of cramps and breast tenderness and all the symptoms of starting my period. And I don’t know why,” you sighed and picked at your nails, not sure how to keep still.

“Alright, well, I’m going to be asking you a few simple questions and I want you to answer as honestly as possible,” Dr. Khaleesi tells you. “What day was your last period?”

“The 6th of May.”

“How long does menstrual cycle typically last?”

“Six to seven days, give or take.”

“And are you sexually active?”

You blushed as you thought about Grayson. You hadn’t forgotten the romantic picnic dinner he had set up in the backyard with a large projector hung up. Sitting there under the stars with him, being in such a close proximity to that man always made you feel so nervous. But having his hands on you, his lips on yours, his large and muscular body between your thighs, it made it all worth it. You most certainly didn’t forget how many times he made you orgasm in under an hour. You were thankful that Ethan and Kristina had gone to their own date night for a few hours.

“Y/N?” Dr. Khaleesi’s voice broke you free from your thoughts, causing you to clear your throat out of embarrassment.

“Y-Yes, I’m sexually active,” you softly responded.

Dr. Khaleesi nods and checks off the small YES box beside the question. “And how often do you engage in sexual intercourse?”

“Um, about three to four times a week.” You suddenly burst out into laughter at the surprised look on her face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she laughs as well. “At least one of us is getting some action, huh?” She laughs again when you cover your face, muffling your small groan. “Back to the questions. When was the last time you were sexually active?”

“I’d say last week, but I’ve been feeling these symptoms for the past two weeks now,” you hesitatingly told her, secretly not wanting to know the cause in order to avoid the dread and heartbreak if something was terminal.

“And what symptoms have you been having?” She asked you, now looking at your expression rather than the clipboard in her hands.

“Um,” you looked up in thought, “Nausea, cramps, breast tenderness, sudden feeling of exhaustion, loss of appetite, and I’ve been peeing a lot more.”

Dr. Khaleesi nods silently, her sudden silence makes you feel incredibly uneasy. You swallow down and exhale a shaky and audible sigh. She gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you mind if I exam your stomach?”

“N-No,” you quietly said and laid back on the cushioned exam table. “Go ahead, please.”

And after hearing your consent, Dr. Khaleesi pulled on some blue latex gloves and hovers her hands over your stomach. You pull up your shirt and pull the cracked skin of your bottom lip with your teeth. She gently presses down in different areas of your stomach, periodically asking, “Does this cause any pain? Discomfort?” And each time, you shook your head. As she was getting to the end of the exam, you went over every single possibility. What if it’s a tumor? What if you’re pregnant? Could it be cancer? Is it internal bleeding? Somehow, you couldn’t find a reason for each possibility to happen. You had no family members with a history of chronic illnesses. And you and Grayson always used protection, never birth control because of the harmful effects to your body. When Dr. Khaleesi was finished with the brief exam, she sighs softly and lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I know why you’re feeling like this, Y/N. And before I tell you, I want you to know that I am here if you ever need advice on how to do this, okay?” She tells you in a reassuring and motherly tone.

“Just tell me,” you whispered, voice cracking as you strong to keep a strong front. But with every second, it slowly disappeared, revealing a vulnerable and terrified woman in front of the doctor. “Please…”

Dr. Khaleesi sighed quietly and licked her red lipstick stained lips. “You’re… pregnant. Presumably one month pregnant.”

If you were standing, you were sure you would’ve dropped to your knees. Your mouth dropped open, trying desperately to form words, but all that came out was a weak squeak. Tears lined your waterline as you shook your head in disbelief.

“N-No, that’s… that’s fucking impossible,” you frantically said, shaking your head even more as you hastily stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. Your hands went to your hair as you paced back and forth. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my, God,” you whispered to yourself, muffling a sob with the back of your hand. “I.. he’s been talking ab-about having kids for-for so long and…” your voice shook between every word. “We’re both so young!”

“We have options, Y/N,” Dr. Khaleesi gently told you as to not scare you if she rose her voice to speak over yours. “There’s abortion-”

“No!” You shouted. “That… That is out of the question. I-I need to talk to him. I need to see where his head is at first, and-and then I can talk to you about… options,” you whispered the last word. You are pro-choice, but you know deep in your heart that you couldn’t terminate this pregnancy. If Grayson thought the opposite, you’re not sure what would happen next.

“Would you like me to schedule your next appointment in one week?” Dr. Khaleesi quietly asks you as she notices the mental battle you’re currently having. “That way you have plenty of time to discuss what you both think, okay?”

You hesitatingly nod and look over at her with an expression that nearly broke her gentle heart. “I-I’m scared, Daksha.”

At the sound of her name exiting your lips, she immediately crosses over and pulls you into a hug. She understands that this may be unprofessional to her bosses and what other patients may see as inappropriate, but she would never let a terrified woman feel alone.

“You are going to be okay, child,” she tells you quietly, one hand wrapped around your shoulders as the other lightly pats the back of your head. “Whatever you decide, I will help you along the way, okay? Do not forget that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

CURRENT TAGLIST

@etherealdols @certainaesthetic

#grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan

161 notes · View notes

kikis-writing-world · 3 years

Text

Pregnancy Announcement HCs

Drabbles under the cut for how Pedro boys would react to your pregnancy, and how you’d share the news. Trigger/content warnings: Pregnancy (both planned and surprise,) mention of abortions as an option, talk of contraception, smut (including cum play, cock warming,) mentions of PTSD and past drug addiction, mentions of dead former partners, blood, periods, doctors/obgyns, single parent/father not wanting to actively participate. If I missed anything, please let me know! Lack of editing as usual...

Pics are for inspiration, not always an exact replica. All take place in a sort of modern AU where there might be a social media to post pictures to.

Dave York

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dave already has a family and he made it very clear that he wasn’t leaving them for you. When you found out, you were terrified he would demand you terminate the pregnancy - heck, you considered it briefly yourself. You thought long and hard about your options even before telling Dave.

His first reaction was about as bad as it could get: he said nothing, got up and left. He returned a few hours later when you had already cried yourself hoarse. He held you in his arms as he spoke clearly and carefully. He asked if you wanted to keep the baby, and when he said yes he almost seemed torn. You don’t know if it was wishful thinking that he was excited to have another child, but you swore you saw a sparkle in his eye… of course, it wasn’t that simple.

He told you it wouldn’t be easy for you since he would never be with you like that - you were just the nanny he was fucking. If you wanted to go it alone, he would help financially and support you as much as he could, but he couldn’t claim the baby as his and risk losing his daughters.

You were going to have to go the single mother route, and if anyone asked you’d have to either say it was a fling or the father wasn’t interested in being in the picture.

Din Djarin

In all honesty, you were surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Din loved to cum inside of you. He’d lay with you, his softening cock still inside you to make sure nothing slipped out. When he finally did, he’d watch with amazement as your body twitched as it adjusted to emptiness. Gently, he’d push any dripping cum back into your fluttering hole. His deep, gruff voice was laced with exhaustion and lust as he would talk about filling your pretty pussy, not wasting a drop…

When you started getting ill, you at first thought it was just a passing bug. It was inevitable with all the travel that you would fall under the weather. Two weeks into the churning stomach, you realized you missed a period.

When you brought it up to Din, he changed all travel plans - the bounties could wait, he had to get you to the nearest clinic ASAP. The test coming back positive had him glowing with pride. It was hard to convince him to wait until further along to announce the pregnancy, knowing anything could happen in these early stages. As soon as you gave him the all-clear, he did everything but shout it from the rooftops. By the time the picture was posted -your headgear, his helmet, and a tiny helmet between - everyone already knew anyway.

Ezra

It was a surprise, but not a shock. You and Ezra, although you tried to be safe, definitely had a habit of being caught up in the moment and forgetting certain precautions. A walk through the forest that led to a beautiful field of flowers, a picnic on a moonlit beach - there were times Ezra was so overwhelmed by your beauty and the beauty around him that he just got swept up. It was hard not to get swept up with him.

He was ecstatic when you told him you thought you might be pregnant. He could hardly wait for you to take a test. His knee bounced anxiously as you waited the 2 minutes, holding your hand tightly in his. The positive result brought tears to his eyes as he embraced you close but gently, already scared of hurting the baby. He saw it as nothing less than a blessing. He dropped to his knees as soon as he let you go, already talking to the bundle of cells, calling them his little shining star. The nickname sticks throughout the pregnancy, leading to a beautiful space-themed nursery and all events leading up to the birth, including the announcement.

Frankie Morales

You’re absolutely terrified to tell Frankie. You knew he wanted to be a father, but the two of you had talked so much about the fears you shared about being parents. Mental health, substance abuse, financial stability - it made the concept of “starting a family” overwhelming.

Your stomach rolled the whole time you waited for him to get home from work, little plastic test taunting you from the table. What if it set him off? He’d been sober for years, but you knew every day was a new battle. You were so consumed by your own thoughts, playing out how he might react in your head, that you didn’t even hear him come in.

“Are you…” He half-asked the question, eyes darting between you and the test. You couldn’t find your voice, only nod. The facial change in him was immediate: broad smile and wonder in his eyes as he laughed, scooping you into his arms. You clung to him just as tightly as he started laughing, too much joy coursing through him. As he started crying “holy shit, I’m going to be a papa,” how could you have possibly doubted he’d be anything but ecstatic?

You each tell your closest friends and your families, but you manage to keep it under wraps for the first months until posting your announcement and shocking everyone. Toes in the sand at the beach of your favorite camping spot, imagining the sandcastles and other games you’d be playing in the near future - it was everything you could ever want.

Jack Daniels

The two of you were religiously careful. You had talked about a family, but had agreed that until Jack was ready - which may or may not happen - you were going to prevent it. But life finds a way…

You find out much later than you would have liked - nearly 3 months in, you missed the whole first trimester. Looking back, there were obvious signs of pregnancy but you just didn’t think it was possible. You and Jack find out together at a doctor’s appointment. You leave the office shell shocked with a stack of pamphlets to consider your options and an appointment for next week. When you get home, Jack doesn’t even talk about it. You try to bring it up a few hours later, but he ignores you.

Finally, 3 days later, you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re in this completely alone at this point as you yell at him “ignoring it won’t make it go away!” Jack breaks down and tells you he’s so damn scared. He cries in a way you’ve never seen him cry, talking about how he wants a family with you but he can’t go through that kind of loss a second time. It nearly killed him the first time and he wouldn’t be able to handle it again. You talk long into the night about all of it - both of your fears, worries, dreams, thoughts - nothing is off limits as you talk about all the possibilities lying in front of you. Even through the fear and trauma, one thing is clear: you both want this.

It’s not easy, but your doctor helps relieve some worries. She speaks frankly to you about the development of the baby along the way and suggests a therapist that might be able to help, as well as classes you can take on parenting. It doesn’t take long for the worried “what ifs” to be paired with excited “whens.”

Javier Peña

When Javier Peña walked into your small town police station, you thought you were dreaming. Sent to help with a case that your rural forces didn’t have the experience to handle, he was only supposed to be in town as long as the case took. You never imagined you, just a lowly admin, would catch his eye.

It didn’t take long for you to tumble into the bed of his hotel room. And your bed at home. And your car. And his truck. And just about any possible surface in between. What you thought was a one night stand turned to three, then four, and soon into a full fledged fling. You knew the expiry date hanging above your heads, so you kept your feelings for the charming (if a little gruff around the edges) agent locked deep away. The case took about two months, and then he was gone just as suddenly as he arrived.

A month after his departure, when you found out you were pregnant, you didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t even left you his number, so you were sure he had no plans to see you ever again. Should you track him down and let him know, or just carry on with this on your own? You spent night after night talking to the growing baby, asking what you should do.

Javier ended up answering the question for you, when he unexpectedly walked into the station once more. He asked to speak with you privately before admitting he had missed you. He told you about trying to forget you, only to spend most of his evenings telling his father about you. Eventually you cut him off with a kiss, telling him you’re glad he came back. You take his hand, placing it on your stomach when you tell him you had been thinking about him too.

Javi helps you secure a transfer to Laredo and even though you technically have your own place, you’re spending practically every night with him anyway. If anyone wondered why the move, well the recognizable mustache on your announcement answered their questions.

Marcus Moreno

Marcus doesn’t believe you the first time you tell him “I think I’m pregnant.” He remembers his wife’s pregnancy with Missy, and you haven’t shown any of those signs. You roll your eyes and tell him that every woman and every pregnancy is different, but he still doesn't believe you. It isn’t until he’s staring down at three tests, all positive, that it clicks in his head he’s having a second child.

He’s excited, but he admits he’s scared. He’s older now, what if he can’t keep up with a baby? More than that, he’s worried about Missy.

You both know you don’t want Missy to feel left out or replaced by a new sibling. The two of you have a good relationship, but of course there were speed bumps to get there. She understood you weren’t trying to replace her mother. Would she be as understanding, knowing that you weren’t trying to replace her?

You and Marcus sit her down and tell her together. Before you can even start on your planned spiel about how the family is growing and no one is getting replaced, she is talking a mile a minute about having a little sister. You and Marcus share a relieved breath and lock eyes before you have to remind her that it might be a little brother. This seems to dampen her mood a little bit, but overall she’s still excited… even if she is adamant she isn’t touching any stinky diapers.

Another way you make sure to include her, is how you announce it to your friends and family. You’re sure, with Marcus’ status, it will get out to the public eventually, but you start by sending close friends and family a picture of Missy wearing a shirt calling her a “Big Sister.” She loves the photoshoot, making all kinds of faces as you snap away on your phone. Happy, sad, pouting, crazy… they all go in the baby book.

Marcus Pike

It was only a few months after your wedding that you and Marcus were ready to start a family. You didn’t “start trying” as much as you “stopped preventing.” There were a few false starts when your period would be late or the time you caught the stomach flu, but a few weeks short of your first wedding anniversary, you were pregnant.

Marcus spent many nights laying next to you in bed, hand on your stomach as he just stared at you - to the point where you actually started to get annoyed by it. He was amazed at your body changing, at the growing child inside of you, that he was finally getting the “happy ever after” he’d been looking for all his life.

The announcement was hilarious to shoot. Marcus and you were covered in paint splotches, laughing with love shining in your eyes. You held a palette Marcus knelt in front of you with a paintbrush, painting “Masterpiece coming soon” on your stomach where the bump had just started showing with the right angle.

Max Phillips

Max knew before you did, even if he didn’t put it all together. He started complaining that you tasted different, smelled different. Not just your blood, but as he spent hours trapped between your thighs. His keen senses had him identifying a change, but neither of you knew what change it was. After all, as far as you knew, a vampire couldn’t get a human pregnant.

Max whined when your period was late - he loved your time of the month. “Best of both worlds” he would say as he feasted on you for as long as you could stand it. It had happened before, your period being late due to stress or illness, but this time it wasn’t just a day or two. A few weeks later nothing had happened. A quick trip to your gynecologist confirmed it.

“I thought you said there was no way you could be pregnant,” she teased as she showed you the results.

Max was shocked, scared, and then proud as a pig in shit. He was terrified to be a father, but he hid that behind a swagger and a “yeah, I knocked her up. Not even death can stop these swimmers.”

Even if you did try to hide it for much longer, the vampires he worked with could smell the change in you too. Put together with Max’s protectiveness over you being ramped up even more than it had been… it was easy to figure out.

You took the picture as a joke - it was supposed to be a compromise that if you took this photo, he’d take the cheesy ones you wanted - but damn if it wasn’t your favorite of the bunch.

Maxwell Lord

You know that Maxwell had a bad history with family. First his parents weren’t as supportive as they could have been, and then his ex-wife had all but used Alistair against him anytime she could. You knew he may be nervous when you shared the news, but you didn’t expect him to turn into Maxwell Lord, television personality instead of your Max.

The first question out of his mouth was “is it mine?” Which broke your heart and set a fire in your gut. You threw anything you could get your hands on at him screaming at him for accusing you of cheating on him. You had just started to calm down when he mentioned lawyers and set you off again. You knew his past, but you truly thought he loved you and that you were his future.

You left, booking yourself in at a hotel. You didn’t leave the room - not only had you not packed anything and knew the paparazzi would devour a picture of you looking so disheveled, but you just couldn’t find it in you to go anywhere. You stayed in the room, ordering room service, watching TV, and crying. In a fit of rage, you had thrown the bottles from the mini bar across the room, needing to channel your anger and knowing you couldn’t drink your sorrows away anyway.

He showed up a few days later, having followed the credit card charges to the hotel, looking remorseful. He apologized for the way he reacted, and you heard him out despite still being upset. There was a long talk in which you reminded him that you’re not his ex or his mother. You’re not trying to screw him over or get anything from him by having his child. It takes him a long time and a lot of groveling for you to truly forgive him, but you go back home that night.

A few months later, as the two of you take a picture on his yacht, both of your hands holding your growing bump, you can hardly tell the fight had happened at all.

Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

Ellaria noticed before you did. A mother herself, she picked up on the glow in your skin, the change in your body, and the complaining about aches in your back or your breasts. When she pulled you aside and suggested you were pregnant, all you could do was blink. The three of you didn’t use protection with each other, only when others were invited into your bed. You’d never gone out of your way to prevent pregnancy, so while it shouldn’t have been shocking, it still caught you off guard. Ellaria brought you to her doctor, sitting with you while you found out for sure.

You were nothing but excited to share your news with Oberyn. You knew how he felt about you, about love and passion, about the children he already had. You had no doubt that he would love your child just as much as the rest of his daughters. The night you told him was spent making love while he waxed poetic about you, your body, your child... If you hadn’t already been pregnant, you’re sure you would have been at the end of the night.

With sand snakes spread across Dorne, you struggled for a way to tell them all. Sending letters didn’t seem to do the moment justice. This may be Oberyn’s 9th child, but it was your first and you wanted an extravagant way to share the news.

Ellaria helped you to plan gathering all the children together. It wasn’t easy, but a month and a half after finding out, you had the whole, huge family together. You posed them all for a picture with you, Oberyn and Ellaria front and centre. You were handed a sign to hold for the picture - supposedly showing the family crest. However as soon as the picture was taken, you turned to show them.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata @phoenixhalliwell @dihra-vesa @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @spideysimpossiblegirl @thottiewinemom @mrschiltoncat @anaaaispunk

102 notes · View notes

zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 132

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 132: By Day, By Night

After hanging up, Lin Qiushi got out of bed. He went to the living room to check on the door and television, making sure both those things were still the same as they had been during daytime yesterday.

After that, Lin Qiushi left the apartment in a hurry. Halfway out he even got a call from Wu Qi, asking why he wasn't at work.

"There's something I have to do." Lin Qiushi was already in a car and had honestly completely forgotten about going to work. He tried to wheedle: "Ask for time off for me."

Wu Qi, "okay, how long should I ask for?"

Lin Qiushi, "half a year?"

Wu Qi, shocked, "…half a year?? Are you planning on resigning?"

Lin Qiushi glanced at his watch, not thinking of work at all.

"Or yeah, you can just resign for me."

Wu Qi seemed like he had something to say, but whatever words were on the tip of his tongue never made it out—he only sighed: "Fine, I'll get time off for you. If there's something going on you've got to tell me, alright? Don't carry it all on your own."

Lin Qiushi made a noise of agreement, expression still pensive.

The car continued on, and over an hour later, it arrived at where Lin Qiushi wanted to go. Lin Qiushi got off, went upstairs, and knocked on the door—every motion done in a single smooth breath. The truth was, however, that these few simple motions were only possible after extensive emotional preparation done during the car ride.

The door he knocked on opened after a bit, revealing a beautiful middle-age woman—it was Ruan Nanzhu's mother.

Because before they'd entered the door, Ruan Nanzhu had taken Lin Qiushi home. Now Lin Qiushi had a clear memory of where Ruan Nanzhu's old house was. Coming here this time was simply to confirm one thing…

"Hi Auntie," Lin Qiushi greeted politely.

"Hello." The woman watched Lin Qiushi with curiosity and asked, "is there something I can help you with?"

"I wanted to ask, do you know who Ruan Nanzhu is?" Lin Qiushi asked carefully.

"Ruan Nanzhu?" The woman's tone of doubt sent Lin Qiushi's heart sinking, and the question on her face only grew stronger. "Sorry, I don't know who that is."

"Then do you know Ruan Baiye?" Lin Qiushi brought up another name—this was the name of Ruan Nanzhu's older bother.

"Baiye? He's my son…" Mama Ruan said. "He's not home right now, but he'll be back later tonight. Are you looking for him?"

Lin Qiushi, "ma'am you…only have one son?"

Mama Ruan nodded as the way she looked at Lin Qiushi got stranger and stranger. Which was fair. Suddenly coming to her house and asking questions like these, Lin Qiushi didn't seem like a normal person at all.

Lin Qiushi had no idea what else to say either. After bidding Mama Ruan goodbye, he rushed back downstairs and hurried off to another location.

Ruan Nanzhu's existence had been completely wiped. There was nobody in this world named Ruan Nanzhu, not even to his parents, and even Obsidian, the organization that he led, had stopped existing…

This time, Lin Qiushi's destination was Li Dongyuan's White Deer.

When he arrived at White Deer headquarters, Lin Qiushi discovered that the building that once belonged to White Deer was now commercial offices, labeled with the name of XX Bank. Lin Qiushi was standing in the doorway contemplating how to sneak upstairs when he saw a familiar face leave the building. That person was wearing a suit and speaking to someone beside him; judging by appearance alone, he was that baby-faced Li Dongyuan that Lin Qiushi knew.

Seeing this Lin Qiushi hurried forward and called, "Li Dongyuan!"

Li Dongyuan's feet stalled, and he glanced in Lin Qiushi's direction. With eyes both cautious and distant, he asked, "who might you be? If you'd like to discuss something please book an appointment with my secretary first."

"I—" Lin Qiushi said. "Do you know me?"

Lin Qiushi lifted an eyebrow and didn't speak. His expression though, gave Lin Qiushi an answer—he did not know Lin Qiushi, and even thought Lin Qiushi's question odd.

"You don't recognize me?" Lin Qiushi also couldn't quite convey how he was feeling just then.

"Should I recognize you?" Li Dongyuan smiled a smile that wasn't quite a smile as he scanned Lin Qiushi up and down.

Lin Qiushi suddenly recalled something else. He said, "then do you know Zhuang Rujiao?"

Li Dongyuan didn't answer, and still seemed unfamiliar with the name.

"What about Jin Yurui?" Lin Qiushi tried again.

"You know her?" Li Dongyuan's smile, however, faded. "You're one of hers, then?"

Lin Qiushi could finally be sure why some people didn't exist in this world—because they were still alive. If they still survived in the world outside the door, then they did not exist inside this door. Both Li Dongyuan and Jin Yurui were dead, so they had new identities inside this door.

And, those who had died inside the doors aside, the people who were competely unrelated to the doors did not seem affected by this rule at all. They existed both inside this door and outside it, and had nothing to do with living or dying.

"Is there anything else?" Eyeing Lin Qiushi, who was deep in thought, Li Dongyuan lifted his chin with a cold expression. "If there's nothing else why don't you take your leave? This is a place of work."

Lin Qiushi took one last look at him before turning to go.

"Who is that?" the person standing beside Li Dongyuan asked as they watched Lin Qiushi leave.

"I don't know," Li Dongyuan said. "Looks kind of familiar though. Never mind, bring me that data and let me confirm…"

Lin Qiushi left White Deer headquarters and glanced at his watch. It was already twelve noon. An idea surfaced in his mind, and Lin Qiushi got out his phone to book a roundtrip flight for C City the next morning.

There were some matters he wanted to confirm in C City; it was already too late to go today, so he could only hurry there tomorrow morning and try to make it back in one day.

Fact of the matter was, Lin Qiushi didn't want to try spending the night on an airplane. Hell knows how terrifying that would be.

After taking care of lunch at a random spot in town, Lin Qiushi returned home and took a nap. As he thought about what would happen later that evening, Lin Qiushi thought he wouldn't be able to sleep. But in fact he slept quite well, passing out the moment he hit the bed. When he woke it was already five in the afternoon. Chestnut sat by his side, meowing, looking to be hungry again.

Lin Qiushi got up and, after fixing up some food for Chestnut, called some delivery for himself. He ate while watching TV.

He saw the trailer for Tan Zaozao's new movie. From the language of the advertisement, Lin Qiushi figured out that Tan Zaozao had already won the award. The award-winning movie was exactly the same as it had been on the outside, only the director was a different person this time and not Zhang Yiqing.

This world was so very similar to the world that Lin Qiushi lived in, but there was one fundamental difference—Ruan Nanzhu, the person Lin Qiushi most wanted to see, was not here.

Good thing that was so, actually. This door, for a lot of other people, would likely be of insurmountable difficulty. Like Zhuang Rujiao. Or Cheng Yixie for that matter. That was because here, they could once again see their most beloved person…

The night deepened, and Lin Qiushi got everything ready.

Around ten in the evening, it suddenly began to rain outside.

Water came down as if tossed from a ladle, washing clean the earth scorched dry by the sun. Lin Qiushi stood by the window, watching as passersby scampered home along the sidewalks until only streetlamps were left on the empty streets, with only the occasional car passing by.

Chestnut fell asleep sprawled out on the couch. The atmosphere grew quiet. Some senseless program played on TV as a queer sort of silence began to crawl out inside the house.

Lin Qiushi smelled petrichor. He used to be quite a fan of this smell, until he encountered a particular door. After that, this tainted scent of rainwater became something a lot more unpleasant.

The hour hand turned bit by bit, and twelve o'clock was nearly here.

Lin Qiushi sat in the living room, as if a spirit waiting for the death god's verdict. The switch from day to night came, and the clock hanging on the wall finally began to ring: ding dong, ding dong, ding dong…Twelve chimes heralded in another world.

The moment it became twelve, someone was immediately knocking at his door once more. Backpack on, Lin Qiushi came to the door, and through the peephole saw a woman standing on the other side, smiling at him.

He remembered the woman's name. It was the NPC hidden among the crowd in the Sister's Drum door, Xu Jin.

"Hurry up and come out already," Xu Jin told Lin Qiushi. "Come out already, my sister's coming to find you."

Lin Qiushi didn't open the door. He heard a soft noise from the window, however, and when Lin Qiushi turned, he saw a figure pressed against the glass.

It was a person with all her skin stripped off, her body a mess of blood and flesh from head to toe. The bloody face pressed against Lin Qiushi's glass and her mouth split open, showing Lin Qiushi her stark white teeth. It looked like she was trying to open up the locked window, and judging from her motions, she seemed close to succeeding.

Opening the door looked to be the only option right now. Gritting his teeth, Lin Qiushi twisted open the door handle and faced Xu Jin, standing on the outside.

Xu Jin clearly knew what Lin Qiushi was worried about, and began to chuckle.

"How could I bear to hurt you?" A pause, as her gaze lingered on Lin Qiushi's backpack. "My diary is still in your hands. Did you give it a good read yet?"

Lin Qiushi, "…" Why did he feel like he was being teased?

But there wasn't time for him to worry about that, because Xu Jin's sister was about to come in though the window. Xu Jin grabbed Lin Qiushi by the arm and ran. The two made their way down the hall and came to the elevator.

"Go on inside, but watch out," Xu Jin said. "There are other things that want you dead."

Lin Qiushi asked, "what about you?" He recalled that Xu Jin didn't have a very good relationship with her sister.

"Me?" Xu Jin’s eyes curved up in a sudden smile. "How do you know that I don't want you dead?"

As soon as she said this, the skin on her body began to fall off patch by patch. The startled Lin Qiushi rushed into the elevator and pressed a number.

Xu Jin was chuckling again, and though her laugh was bright like silver bells, her terrifying appearance struck a sharp contrast.

Even though she now looked scarier, she didn't seem keen on pursuing Lin Qiushi.

The elevator started. In theory, Lin Qiushi ought to be safe, but that weird sense of danger once again assaulted the top of his head.

Lin Qiushi looked all around him, and when he spotted a certain something hanging in the elevator, goosebumps appeared all over his body. He'd spotted behind him, on what should have been an empty elevator wall, a huge black picture frame. There was nothing inside the frame, but the frame was pointed at exactly where he was standing.

Lin Qiushi reacted swiftly, hitting the button for the floor closest to him. At the exact same time, black water stains began appearing on the white paper inside that frame. First there was only one drop. Then it began spreading on the canvas paper.

He watched as the shape of that stain began to look more and more like a woman. It dispersed across the canvas and, in a short amount of time, managed to coat the entire large canvas.

Luckily it was then that the elevator reached the nearest floor. Lin Qiushi immediately took off, and the moment he cleared the elevator, a pair of pale white hands burst out of that canvas paper, searching around like it was looking for something to grab hold of.

Lin Qiushi was currently on the sixth floor. The moment he was out of the elevator he turned for the emergency exit right next door, bounding quickly down the stairs.

It was dim in the stairwell, with just enough light to see the path beneath his feet. Lin Qiushi ran down two stories before feeling something was off. He took a closer look, and discovered that he'd been turning round and round on floor six.

The stairs seemed to have become a mobius strip—up, down, backward, forward, it all came back to the sixth floor.

Lin Qiushi's feet screeched to a halt. He took in his surroundings, and noticed, on the white stairwell ceilings, little black spots of water appearing. That chilling stench of rain too was spreading through the air.

The thing had found him. Lin Qiushi made an executive decision and left the stairwell, stepping out onto the hallway. But back in the hall, Lin Qiushi discovered that the corridor had underwent a terrifying change: black frames hung on both sides, and inside each frame was a human head with its expression all twisted up. As for the ceramic tile floor, there was now a new carpet, thick and black—the pattern on it looked the same as in a door they'd encountered before.

Lin Qiushi looked up and saw, on the other other end of the hallway, another painting hanging. That painting was a woman in black with a long, sharp hat. Her eyes were half closed, but it felt like she was staring right down the hall and meeting Lin Qiushi's eyes.

Lin Qiushi wanted to leave the hallway, but when he glanced back, he found that the stairwell he had just came from had disappeared. The length of the hallway too seemed to be slowly shortening; Lin Qiushi could sense the painting of the woman getting closer and closer, closer and closer…

At that moment, a drop of water fell onto Lin Qiushi's forehead. Lin Qiushi gave it a wipe, and realized that it was blood. On reflex he looked up—a black hole had appeared above his head without him noticing, and blood was dripping from its edge onto his head. A pair of black eyes glimmered faintly in the dark, and then right after, a pair of pulpy, bloody hands reached out of the hole for Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi's instincts were to back away, but the strange thing was, the hands stopped when they got to him. As if a miracle, he sensed no animosity from this pair of hands.

The hallway was still getting shorter and shorter, as if it were becoming a cage keen on trapping Lin Qiushi inside. With a clench of his teeth, Lin Qiushi reached up and grabbed the fleshy mess of those hands, and then felt a sudden force as he was brought out of that shrinking hallway.

"Aiya, looks like you can't manage without me after all."

The voice belonged to Xu Jin, but from appearance alone, he couldn't tell it was her at all. The skin on her body was completely gone, leaving only scarlet flesh and blood. She was grinning brightly at Lin Qiushi, and the contrast between her smile and appearance was strange, but Lin Qiushi didn't find it scary at all.

"Thank you," Lin Qiushi said to her.

Xu Jin didn't speak. Her gaze instead leaped over Lin Qiushi to look behind him.

Sensing something, Lin Qiushi too twisted around, and spotted on the other end of the darkness a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Meimei, my sister."

The owner of those eyes was also a skinless monster. She didn't have any legs and could only walk on her hands, but that didn't mean she was slow. She glared at Lin Qiushi with vitriol and bared her teeth; like a hyena hunting its prey, the sheer amount of hatred in her eyes was strong enough to materialize.

"Why did you betray me?" she said. "Do you like him that much? Since you like him so much, why don't I keep him here for you?"

Xu Jin tilted her head, and also smiled.

"But Jiejie, even if you did that, I still won't like you."

After that, she told Lin Qiushi to run, and threw herself at her sister. The two monsters clashed and tangled together.

Lin Qiushi got up and sprinted in the direction of the light. By the time he reached its source, he found that he'd already escaped from the apartment building, and was standing in the yard of the residential block.

It was still raining outside. Lin Qiushi pulled an umbrella out of his backpack and slowly pushed it open, stepping out into the curtaining rain.

The rain came down in sluicing torrents, and the streets were completely empty, with only water splashing along the ground. The rain ought to have been noisy; but at a time like this the loudness of the rain only made the world sound more silent in comparison.

"Help me—help me—"

There was a sudden cry for help. A silhouette came stumbling out of the rain, and Lin Qiushi could just make it out: she was a pitiful-looking young woman, staggering through the rain in a long dress. It looked like she was being pursued by something, and when she spotted Lin Qiushi standing not too far away, it was like she'd found an oasis in the middle of a desert—she came running immediately.

"Help, help!! Please, I'm begging you please help me, something wants to kill me…" She fell to the ground, looking up pathetically at Lin Qiushi. "You're also someone going through the doors, right? So am I, this door is so scary—"

Had this been reality, Lin Qiushi would've definitely helped the young woman up by now. But at this stage he wasn't moving, and a light furrow had appeared between his brows. The truth was, he found the person before him a bit familiar—more specifically, everything that appeared at night now was familiar, and he was certain he'd seen this person somewhere before.

"Mister, mister." The woman collapsed in the rain saw Lin Qiushi unmoved, and slowly crawled forward. She wiped at the rainwater on her face and said, shakily, "I know a safe place, and I can bring you there. Do you want to come with me?"

Lin Qiushi said, "do I know you?"

The woman said, "we met once in the door, and you even helped me out." Her lashes lightly trembled, looking vulnerable as anything. "But I didn't deserve that mercy, I still didn't make it."

"We met inside a door?" Lin Qiushi now found the shape of her eyes familiar. "Which door?"

The woman approached Lin Qiushi, saying, "you know, that one."

As Lin Qiushi watched her, he suddenly spoke: "There's something behind you."

The woman halted.

"A giant picture frame," Lin Qiushi said. "She's here."

The woman wheeled around in fright, but when she didn't see anything behind her, she suddenly realized that Lin Qiushi had recognized her. What had been a pitiful expression immediately went cold.

"It's been a while," Lin Qiushi said, "Yang Meishu."

The woman chuckled coolly.

"You still recognized me?"

Lin Qiushi shrugged. "I didn't want to, but I can count the people who wanted me dead on one hand. Since you're not a ghost, you must be somebody who hates me…"

He paused, and quickly announced, "she really is here."

But Yang Meishu didn't believe him. She said, "do you really think I'm that dumb? You've fooled me once already, you think you can do it again? I—"

As she spoke, getting more and more agitated, she felt a sudden breeze behind her. Yang Meishu glanced back, and found the woman in black standing right behind her. The woman's white face was impassive, and in her hands was a black picture frame that she swung right at Yang Meishu.

Yang Meishu knew this was likely it for her, and a terrible scream came out of her mouth. Right after she screamed, she became a portrait in the hands of the woman; soaked from head to toe, her expression bore both fright and a lively, vivid resentment.

Lin Qiushi took the opportunity to run further away. The woman didn't seem intent on chasing after him either, only watched him go with an icy gaze.

The rain came down in torrents, and Lin Qiushi was completely soaked. In such a strong rain, the umbrella was practically useless. As he ran, he fished out his cell phone and sent Ruan Nanzhu a text.

How are things on your end? After some thought, Lin Qiushi added: I'm fine over here, don't worry about me.

After the text was sent, he didn't get a reply for the longest time. It wasn't until Lin Qiushi found a place to hide from the rain that the message notification dinged, displaying four simple words: I'm good, don't worry.

Seeing the message, Lin Qiushi huffed a bitter laugh. Because how could he not know? Had Ruan Nanzhu truly been alright, the text would not have been so short. Ruan Nanzhu had trained his way through so many doors, so god only knew how many malicious NPCs and dead people from the inside he would meet at night. From what Lin Qiushi understood of him, if he had everything under control, he would've definitely sent a message first asking about Lin Qiushi's situation. Now, even his text message was so short. The situation on his end could not be good.

He wanted so badly just to be by his side—Lin Qiushi clenched his phone and thought bitterly. Whatever he had to experience would be fine, as long as he could be by Ruan Nanzhu's side.

[Ch. 131] | [Ch. 133]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

163 notes · View notes

chaoticpuff17 · 3 years

Text

When the Chips Are Down

part 1

masterlist

Hello, my darlings. I feel so bad. I haven’t been updating, so I decided to do something that will likely make you all come for my head since this really won’t be updated for a good while. But for now, it’s all I’ve got for ya, but I do have a chapter of SW over half way done, but for now enjoy the first chapter of ADG’s sequel even if the rest won’t be coming for a while.--- chaotic puff

The ride to the airfield was nothing if not awkward. Namjoon sat on his side of the car and Y/N on the other. Namjoon was trying to reign in his temper, and Y/N simply didn’t want to talk. There were so many thoughts bouncing around her head, so many things they needed to talk about. She didn’t want to though. She wanted to pretend that he’d never come at all. She wanted to go back to her little cottage with Mark. She wanted him to hold her and talk to the baby like he always did, but that wasn’t an option anymore, not with Namjoon back in the picture.

“Where are we going?” She asked after a while. The tense silence was killing her.

“The airport at Pisa. I have a private jet waiting there to take us back to Seoul.”

“I can’t fly. I’m in my third trimester.” She murmured wincing as the baby sent a particularly hard kick to her stomach immediately catching Namjoon’s notice.

“Are you alright, jagi?” He asked moving to her side in a flash, hovering over her eyes darting over her worriedly looking for signs of distress.

“I’m fine.” She groaned pressing a hand to her belly. “The baby’s kicking.”

His face immediately lit up with a smile as he pressed his hand to her belly waiting intently for another kick. None came though. He looked back up at her disappointed, and she sighed moving his hand to press against different spot on her belly one where he was more likely to feel something.

“Give him a second. Little pest loves pummeling my insides.” She grumbled sinking back into the seat.

Just then the baby sent another kick landing it just under where Namjoon’s hand was pressed. He jumped at the odd sensation turning his awed gaze on her before looking back down at her belly in wonder. “Does it hurt?” He asked voice barely above a whisper.

“When he kicks like that? Yes.”

“It’s a boy?” He asked excitedly already imagining a little boy with her eyes and his dimples, a little heir for his empire.

“I don’t know actually.” She mused looking down at her bump fondly. “I never found out.”

“Jin can tell us later.” He grinned turning his attention back to her belly rubbing soft circles across its surface. “All that matters is that you and the baby are healthy.”

“I still can’t fly.” She reminded him. “It’s not good for the baby.” There was a hope, however small, that if she could stall him, then she could slip away.

He smiled at her fondly. “I have Jin waiting at the jet. He’ll monitor you throughout the flight.”

“Oh,” She breathed disappointed by the development, but of course he had thought of everything. He was always a step ahead no matter how hard she tried.

The ride was not long. It less than a two hour drive to Pisa, and as promised Jin was waiting on the plane for them. He smiled at her and settled her into one of the cushy seats.

“Can you lift up your dress for me, sweet girl? I can pull out the pajamas too if you’d prefer. They may be more comfortable for the long flight.” He asked.

“The pajamas please.” She nodded tiredly, and Jin happily went to fetch them for her, ushering her up and into a small bedroom at the back of the plane where she was able to change in peace.

Jin helped her back to her seat when she emerged in a pair of silky pajamas and slippers. He had been right. It was going to be much more comfortable for the flight, and if she could avoid Namjoon by sleeping for most of the flight, she would.

“I’m going to attach a fetal monitor to your belly so we can keep an eye on the belly. I have a labor and delivery nurse on the flight as well to help keep an eye on mom and baby.” He grinned gently pressing the little stickers onto her belly as he addressed both her and Namjoon who was hovering nearby. “It’s good to see you, Y/N. How far along are you now?”

“Thirty-four weeks.”

“Not long till the little one arrives then.” He nodded giving her one last smile and moving away to sit elsewhere as Namjoon settled in next to her for the long flight, taking one of her hands in his frowning at the simple gold wedding band that rested there.

Namjoon slipped it off with a frown pocketing the ring before bringing out the one she had left behind all those months ago with all its glitz and glory.

“I’d prefer if you wore your ring, jagi, and not some trinket from that pest.” He sighed slipping it on her finger. “You’ve cut your hair.” He noted equally displeased by the drastic change in length as he was with the ring he had just confiscated.

“It’s easier to hide when you don’t look the same as when you ran.” She huffed brushing a stray lock behind her ear, though it slipped out again shortly after. It was a major disadvantage to the shaggy pixie cut she now sported. She couldn’t tie her hair up, and she couldn’t get it to stay behind her ear either. She didn’t have any headbands on the flight to keep it out of her face either. Those were all back at the cottage.

“I don’t like it.” He grumbled. “I liked your hair before. Oh well. It’ll grow.”

“You have no say over how I wear my hair.” She snapped snatching her hand back.

His grin was sharp and wolf like as he stared her down. “I think you’ll find I have a say over a great many things, jagi. You’ve caused so much trouble. I can’t have you putting yourself or the baby in danger any longer. You’ll behave or you’ll find yourself in much more trouble than you’re already in.” He warned before turning his attention back towards her belly. “Is the baby still kicking?”

“He’s always kicking.”

She flinched as Namjoon laid a hand back over her belly again leaning down to whisper to her bump. “You have to be nice to your eomma. She needs her strength to make sure you’re healthy.”

Namjoon had missed her more than he liked to admit, but seeing her heavy with his child filled him with pride. He only wished that he could have been there for the entirety of the pregnancy. He wanted to be there for it all, the morning sickness, the cravings, the doctor’s appointments. He wanted to be there to watch her belly grow, but that had all been taken away from him. He would be there for the next one though. He was going to fill their home with children.

Yoongi already had a son. Jin was working on getting Hayan healthy enough to support a pregnancy. The younger boys were also beginning to express interest in starting families of their own. Taehyung was even beginning to talk about ending his seemingly never ending game of cat and mouse with his ‘little bird’, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok was already planning a family with Iyla.

Iyla. That was another variable he would have to deal with. Y/N didn’t yet know that her dear younger sister was in his hands, or more accurately, Hoseok’s hands. That was a surprise he was going to leave for when they arrived home, and Y/N was well rested from the journey. She had been right when she’d warned him that flying was dangerous for her at this point in the pregnancy. It was why he had Jin and two labor and delivery nurses on the flight. He was taking every precaution to make sure that both she and the baby would be safe. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to either of them.

Y/N was extremely uncomfortable with Namjoon’s show of affection and his interest in her belly, but she allowed it, too tired to really fight back for the moment as well as knowing better than to push him too far at the moment.

“He or she will be out soon enough.” She sighed moving his hand off her belly and curling up in her seat. “I can deal with a few kicks to the kidneys until then.”

Namjoon sighed before moving up the seat divider and pulling her into his arms resting both of his hands on top of her belly. “Don’t push me away. I’ve missed so much of our child’s life. Let me have this.”

“We can’t sit like this for takeoff.” She reminded him beginning to pry his arms away again.

“Just let me hold you till then.” He pouted placing a soft kiss on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “I’ve missed you, jagi.” He murmured placing another kiss further up her neck.

“Please don’t.” She sighed squirming in his arms.

“I haven’t held you in months, jagi.” He released a sigh of his own letting her go so she could settle back in her own seat as the flight attendants readied them for takeoff.

As the plane took off climbing higher into the sky, her heart sunk further and further. She didn’t want to leave Italy behind. She didn’t want to leave Mark behind, but she didn’t have a choice. Even if it wasn’t for the baby, she wouldn’t have had much of a choice. Namjoon was a sneaky bastard, and he always seemed to be a ten steps ahead of her. She had been lucky to have so much time away from him, but all good things come to an end eventually.

She knew there wasn’t much hope for her, not anymore, but maybe there was a chance for Mark. Namjoon was a sadistic bastard, and Mark had had the audacity to take her away from him. It wasn’t something that Namjoon was going to treat lightly. Death would not come swiftly for Mark, but perhaps that would be his saving grace. The longer Namjoon waited to get rid of Mark, the better chance there was of Mark finding a way to escape. The man was a veritable magician. She was constantly amazed at his ability to get in and out of sticky situations. If there was anyone that could slip away from Namjoon, it was Mark.

“What’s going to happen?” She asked softly once the seat belt warning had been lifted and Namjoon had reverted to holding her in his arms absent mindedly rubbing senseless patterns into her belly.

“What do you mean, jagi?” He hummed smiling as he felt the baby kick lightly against one of his hands.

“What’s going to happen when we get back to Korea?”

His arms tightened around her slightly. “We’re going to go home, jagi. You’re going to need lots of rest with your due date so soon.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” She grumbled pushing back slightly as she struggled to get comfortable. She was finding it harder and harder to be comfortable as her due date approached, and Namjoon’s proximity wasn’t helping.

Her discomfort was clear, and it wasn’t something Namjoon could allow. He needed her calm and rested for the flight, for the next few weeks really. “Jin!” He called bringing the doctor running. “Can we move Y/N to the bedroom? I think she’d be more comfortable lying down.”

Jin nodded with a smile helping Namjoon to move the heavily pregnant woman and the monitors to the back of the plane, getting them all settled before leaving the couple to their privacy.

Namjoon was careful to get her settled with pillows piled up at the headboard for them to lie against. He had her nestled against him despite her grumbling, but he knew despite her grumpy attitude, the new position was far more comfortable for her, and it gave her more room to adjust herself than the chairs in the front did.

“You never answered my question.” She reminded him with a sigh.

“You mean your punishment for leaving me? For taking our child and running off with that pest?” She nodded stiffly, waiting for his answer. “For the sake of the baby, I’m willing to overlook your little moment of insanity, but it all depends on how well you, jagi. I can be very forgiving, or I can make life very hard. I’d prefer to be forgiving though. We should be focusing on our baby after all.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to keep your promise.” He chuckled. “I want you to be a good wife and mother. No more running. No more hiding.”

“And all is forgiven? Just like that?”

She couldn’t believe that. Namjoon was not a forgiving man. He was a shark. He would never forget, and he’d take into account every variable to keep her firmly in her grasp this time. She had one shot, one real shot, and she had used it already. Namjoon wasn’t likely to let her slip away again, especially not with a child in the mix.

“Not just like that, but it’s a start.” He leaned in nudging his nose against the spot just below her ear. “And after all, doesn’t our baby deserve the best start we can give them?”

“And you’re the best thing for this child?” She scoffed squirming in his arms again.

“I know I am. And what other choice do you have?” He chuckled nipping lightly at her ear. “You’re never leaving me again.”

part 2

405 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 4- Your Disco Needs You.

Intro: Paul adjusts to life at home post the shooting.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+) A heap of angst and feelings. He’s a soft, lil bean…

Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 3

Three weeks. He'd been home three weeks and with each hour that passed Paul felt less like himself. He was frustrated, angry, irritated and irritable. Upon his discharge from the hospital, his attending physician explained that the road ahead wasn't going to be easy and so far that had proved correct. He'd spent eight days in ICU, not to mention the few after in the recovery ward, and according to the medical team at his disposal, each day spent there in ICU was a full week of added recovery at home. Eight fucking weeks. He wasn’t even half way through. Physically, bar his vocal chords, there had been little lasting damage. Something he should be grateful for, apparently. The wound in his neck had healed well so far, leaving an angry raised pink scar behind, but other than that, to look at, there was no physical signs he’d been moments from death at all. Emotionally, however, well, he was a wreck. If it weren't the continued nightmares as his mind rehashed the horror inflicted in the line of duty, it was the constant desperation to be himself inside and out, to feel like he was HER Disco. For the first two weeks post the shooting, he'd been reduced to writing things on a notepad for Y/N and others as he couldn't speak more than a word or two and at a faint whisper or angry rasp. Over the last week, it had improved a little but still, holding a prolonged conversation was painful and he often as a result found himself reaching for that fucking notepad as a means to an end when it simply became too damned much to bear.

He hated it.

Not only was socialising his forte, but his and Y/N’s relationship usually operated with a lot of conversation as they would talk over dinner, joke when watching TV, chat or whisper to each other when laying in bed at night. And not being able to indulge in those simple things properly with his fiancée was killing him. And don't even get him going on his thoughts and anguish over the way they'd not been their usual intimate selves. From touches and sweet kisses, to sex and general intimacy, there had been none, not due to anything she'd done, but all down to him, and how he viewed himself, felt about himself. He pulled open the fridge, reaching in for the eggs and bacon before he moved to the stove, coffee brewing in the pot to the side. As he set about making them breakfast, he lost himself momentarily, concentrating on whisking the eggs ready to scramble before he heard the bedroom door click open as Y/N shuffled out into the bathroom. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps hit that squeaky board in the small hallway as she headed down to their kitchen. Soon he felt her arms around his waist, hands hooking over his chest and shoulders. Her lips pressed to the back of his shoulder. "I can take over." Quickly, Paul twisted out of her hold and raspilly said, "I can manage." She stepped back from him, and he was immediately crushed with guilt as he took in the look on her face. The way her eyes were downcast and how hard she swallowed. He watched as she blinked hard, moved her lips to say something and then she simply sighed, her shoulders dropping as she turned and left, back the way she came, down the hall and back into the bathroom. When he heard the slam of the door echo across their small apartment, Diskant threw the wooden spoon across the counter and leaned against its edge, a silent curse across his lips as let out a deep sigh.

For the last three weeks, this was how their days had started and ultimately set the tone for the hours to follow. He didn't know where to begin to try and as for Y/N, well, she couldn't try any harder.

**** The door shut behind you with a little more force than you’d meant, having slammed it by accident in your haste to escape quickly before the tears of frustration and hurt spilt from your eyes. You were trying to rationalise his behaviour, you knew he was frustrated at how his recovery was progressing, more so because physically he looked okay. But he wasn’t. He was weak, sleeping a lot. He struggled to talk for more than a few minutes at a time and the simplest of tasks seemed to leave him drained. But you could cope with that, hell, you expected it. What you hadn’t expected however, was what hurt you the most- the fact he seemed to be shutting you out. Your relationship had always thrived on the fact you had no secrets, there wasn’t a thing the pair of you couldn’t talk about but now, it was like he’d put up a wall to keep you out. And it hurt.

You turned on the shower and whilst you waited for the water to warm, you stripped off your pyjamas and made sure to pile your hair out of the way to avoid it getting wet. Once it was at the right temperature you stepped into the cubicle, closing the glass screen door behind you and tipped your face up to greet the warm spray as the water washed away your silent tears… The day had finally come and he was going home. Things were set and the car was running and waiting. He'd been able to dress in a pair of sweats, his trainers and a button down shirt, sighing as he couldn't just walk out but had to be rolled out. Words were few, and very soft, a stark difference to his typical boisterous laugh and toothy grin. But you were all thankful, thankful he was alive, thankful he was okay and healing. His parents offered to take you both home, yours and Barnes waiting for you to arrive back at the apartment. Your parents had worked diligently at deep cleaning for you, taking one less thing off your list to do, knowing the first few days home would been an adjustment period, learning how to move with one another and go about a new routine from at home therapy to outside appointments, no doubt eventually a steady stream of visitors. You honestly were fine with whatever Paul had wanted. In reality, he hadn't said much or written much on his pad of paper all morning. But you went along with it anyway. The nurse wheeled him out and you walked along his side, the feeling of relief washing over you as you stepped over the threshold of the hospital entrance and watched him breathe in his first breath of fresh air in ten days. You held back tears, thankful for your Wayfarers covering your eyes. But you didn't miss his, the way he was desperately trying to keep himself together around everyone else. He gave a nod in thanks to the nurse and slowly sat down in the back seat of his parents' SUV whilst you moved around to the other side to settle yourself in. Nothing was said, it didn't need to be, but you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Big Jim pulled away from the curb and headed towards home. When you went to move your hand away, he gripped it tightly, looking at you with those deep pools of blue.. You wanted to reach out to him, touch him on the one place you knew comforted him, made him melt, tell him he'd be okay, reassure him, but he was to your right, therefore his sutures and bandages were along the left of his neck and you couldn't touch him there, it was still painful, raw and frail. So you let him grip your hand the whole way home, the top of it reaching his lips a few times, just so, you thought at least, that he knew you were there, reminding him he was going to be okay. That he had you. As the four of you made your way into the apartment, you remembered that Barnes, your parents and by now no doubt Sam were there waiting for you all. Sure as you'd guessed, a thundering cheer and smiles came from the living room and filtered into your kitchen. The one bedroom, small space at capacity with guests. It was not the time for a 'Welcome Home' party. As Paul gathered a moment to himself, he looked to you and signalled he needed to write something down, so you grabbed the nearest note pad and a pen, the items you always had on the coffee table that collected your lists for groceries and to do items. His 'Honey Do' list as he liked to call it. He scribbled hastily and practically shoved the pad back at you. 'Can't do this. Need time.' "Okay," you looked at him after reading, "okay." You ushered over to Big Jim and Dotty, gently telling them that he was asking for some space, and they quickly understood, saying their goodbyes as you made the rounds, hoping neither of you looked like assholes in asking everyone to leave. With deep understanding, everyone left, allowing the two of you time together. You went to the kitchen to get water for you both, sighing as you saw the fridge stocked full and a freezer full of meals. Dotty and your mother, no doubt having done all that. When you returned to the living room, just a dozen steps away, Paul was sitting on the couch, hands on his thighs, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, I should have stepped in and said it was better to have people see you when you were ready. I didn't think...." A deep sigh interrupted you and what was an empty hand was now jotting a note again. He turned the notepad in his lap. 'I just need you.' Your lip quickly quivered and you gently leaned in to kiss his lips softly. "I'm right here." He gave you a small smile as you sat beside him.

“Do you want to shower? Eat? Sleep?" Paul frowned deeply at each of your asks. He shook his hands at you, trying to tell you to slow down. Then, you sat in silence. He slowly stood after a long stretch of nothing between you and headed down the hall to the bathroom, albeit a bit wobbly at first and when you rose to help steady him, he shrugged you off. You gave him his space, but worried about him on his own. Then you heard the click of the door and the shower running… A knock on the bathroom door dragged you from your thoughts and knowing it could only be Paul, you turned the shower off for a moment so he didn’t have to shout. “Yeah?” You cleared your throat and listened carefully. “Breakfast is waiting when you’re done.” His voice was croaky, but you picked up his words easily enough through the thin door. “Okay, give me a moment. Be right out.” You called back, no longer wondering why he didn't open the door anymore or why he locked it when he was inside. You turned the shower back on, quickly lathered up your gel before washing and stepping out, towelling down before you slipped on a lightweight robe and opened the door.

*****

He waited for her at their small kitchenette, their places set, food already plated. He admired her, how she was dressed in her robe but as his eyes moved to hers, he noticed those beautiful orbs that he loved waking up to each and every day were red and puffy, despite her shower. He watched as she moved her food around her plate, eyes cast downward at the yellow scrambled eggs, slightly runny just the way she liked them. He tried to clear his throat but it stung so he reached over the tiny table-top and touched her hand. When her eyes met his, he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” The words died in his throat as his voice gave out and he gave an exasperated gesture mouth, a frustrated noise escaping from his nose. "It's okay," she replied, her own words catching in her throat. His chest heaved with a heavy breath and his hand flexed into a fist, redirecting his frustration to have more control of his feelings, a shake of his head. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

She didn't speak, she just slowly popped a shoulder with a shrug and tilted her head to the right to meet it. He could tell she was grinding her teeth, that flex in her jaw evident. She cleared her throat and shook her head, "I can't eat right now." She scooted away from the table and took her plate with her, setting it in the fridge and escaping to their room. When that door shut, Diskant rubbed his hands over his face. Things weren't going to improve between them if he didn't try to get his words out but it was fucking near impossible. And God damn it he was downright exhausted at writing it all down. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to be able to tell her but he didn't want to waste the ink. He wanted his life back. The dishes were done before they'd sat down to eat, so, wanting to give himself time and continue to give Y/N her space, he slipped into the bathroom for his own shower.

Taking a moment to figure out what exactly he was doing, Paul sighed. Shower, then figure it out with Y/N. They needed to talk, properly, even if it made him hoarse. Three weeks of struggling to just.... live and move on were enough. He brought his eyes to the mirror as his stood with his palms flat against the basin, his scar peeking out the top collar of his white tee.

He'd grown to looking in the mirror more often than when he'd first come home. His reflection made him feel somewhat of a beast, a man no longer what he once was but something of fright. The scar by no means was earth shatteringly grotesque, and Paul wasn't naturally a man of conceitedness, however, it was still a shock to see.

Not for the first him he'd wondered how it looked to Y/N. It was hideous in his mind, and he was afraid she was grossed out because of it too. The bullet had pierced through one of the places on his body where he simply relished her touch. From the friendly and tender tickle on the couch as they watched TV to the desperate way she would cling to it as she lay under him, it was just something they had shared since the start and now he held a million worries. It might hurt, maybe her touch would have lost the ability to drag the reactions it normally did, that he would have lost that special place that she only she knew about and could use to make him melt.

He was scared of his own girl’s touch, and while it was an absolute ridiculous notion, it flat out petrified him. It petrified him for the very fact that he couldn't feel ANYTHING there. Not the water that touched it, the feel of his own fingers ghosting over it or the bite of a pinch he'd given himself just to test the nerves.

He felt nothing.

He stared at his reflection, running a hand over the month long beard that had grown as of late. He wasn't supposed to shave, having been on blood thinners since his surgery, but those ran out a few days ago. Turning his head to the right, and then to the left, he sighed. Maybe he'd feel a bit better if he did…more like himself.

With a sigh he pulled the trimmers from under the sink and plugged them into the outlet. Then he started filling the sink with lukewarm water, preparing a fresh razor for use. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, he took a good look at himself, eyes burning into the mirror as he took in his pale colour, his sad eyes, the dark circles under them, no doubt result of the nightmares waking both he and Y/N in the night, and then that ugly line. He sighed as his mind travelled back to their first night home from the hospital… He hadn’t meant to push everyone away but it was overwhelming. He just wanted her. His second chance at life was handed to him and all he wanted was her, time with her. Everyone and everything else could wait. He was a little unsteady on his feet, a weak wobble really that would surely pass the more he moved but he wasn't his entirely strong self either. He felt weak, looked pale and was sporting a near two week stubble that was itchy, but there was nothing he could do about it. More pressing than the ever increasing facial hair, however, was the fact he was craving a shower. Having suffered the indignity of nothing but sponge baths and body washes in the hospital, he simply wanted nothing more than to stand under the steam of their surprisingly powerful shower, in their little bathroom and clean himself off, wash away the clinical smell of the hospital that seemed to cling to his skin.

He turned the water on first, the sound of it spraying from the shower head a joyful sound. He knew he'd have to go slow, take it easy and be gentle on himself. Paul slipped his sweats down over his narrow hips, the material pooling at his feet and he kicked them away to the corner of the space. Then, with trembling fingers, he started on his button down, swallowing back a nervous knot painfully in his throat.

By the time he was stripped down to his boxer briefs, there was a covering of steam on the mirror and he swiped at it with his hand. Then gently, ever so gently, he began to peel back the medical tape holding the gauze to his neck, knowing he’d have to replace the dressing once he’d showered. Not that it mattered, he’d been sent home with what felt like enough gauze, dressings and surgical tape to patch up a fucking army.

What he saw was not his own skin. Gone was his St. Christopher medallion on his favourite chain, one his parents had gotten him when he graduated from the Police Academy, and near where the chain would lay against his collarbone and neck was the repair hours of surgery and a week and a half in the hospital had caused him. Still, he was alive. When all was said and done, a chain could be replaced and his wound would heal.

With a final glance at his wound he carefully stepped into the hot water, and a soft moan escaped his mouth as he relished the way it felt on his skin, searing the back of his legs, his ass and lower back. He took a half step back and the water moved up to just under his shoulder blades. As the water beat down on him, he grabbed a bottle of his favoured shower gel and lathered a good amount all over himself, before rinsing and repeating the motion several times. Then, with a movement that was more reflex than conscious, he picked up Y/N's gel and turned the cap, taking a long inhale of the scent that comforted him. He felt his throat tighten and he started to panic, but quickly realized he was swallowing down a cry rather than there being a problem with his wound. He placed the gel back and turned his face into the stream of water, blinking fiercely as the tears welled and bled from his screwed up eyes, mingling with the steady droplets that hit his cheeks from the shower.

He leaned into the stream farther, allowing it to wash over his head, literally drowning out the sound of everything around him. His palms rested flat against the tile, a stretch and pull from his muscles that had atrophied during his stay. Awakening muscles and tendons that were mangled and manipulated to heal.

How long he was in there, he had no idea, but eventually, he felt the temperature starting to drop a little, signalling he'd been in there far longer than he'd intended. Reaching out, he turned the shower off and then stepped out, grabbing a towel which he ran over his head, almost snorting when he remembered his hair was no longer as short as it had been, realising that Y/N had never really seen him with hair as such before.

Because yeah, that’s what she was going to be looking at. His hair, not the huge three inch gash on his neck that made him look like some kind of fucking Frankenstein monster.

With a roll of his eyes, Paul wrapped his lower half in a towel and opened the door to the bathroom, stepping across the hall. When he entered the bedroom, he found Y/N sitting in the edge of their bed, a familiar necklace in her hands like a rosary, her knees bouncing up and down. He noted how cautiously she lifted her eyes to look at his, and didn't miss the way they quickly flicked to his wound and back to his. He felt that painful lump in his throat for again. She rose to her feet and took a step toward him.

“The chain, well... they had to cut it.” She said quietly, holding out her hand where the necklace sat. “So I got you a new one.” She held it out to him and he paused, his hand reaching towards the chain “The pendant was fine so...”

He reached out to take it, his fingers softly brushing her palm as he clasped the metal in his hands. He turned the small, silver disk over and gave her a small smile before he placed it on his nightstand.

“Do you want me to put it on?” She asked, moving to pick it up. “I can-"

With a movement that was a little harsher than he’d meant he reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it still a few inches away from the chain. She turned to look at him, a combination of shock and puzzlement on her face as he hastily shook his head.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Paul ran his hand over his face and shook his head at her. “S’okay.” Were the only words he could manage to rasp out. His eyes bored into her as he desperately tried to make her understand he wasn’t angry at her.

"I'll uh... You start getting dressed and I'll grab the bag from the hospital."

“Bag?” He half spoke, half mouthed at her, his brow creasing in puzzlement.

"The one with the bandages."

He shook his head, waving his hands. “I can-“ his voice broke and she smiled.

“Paul, it’s fine, let me...”

He once more shook his head.

“Baby...”

At that his fist slammed on the nightstand and making her jump.

Her breath was shaky and her lip quivered, her eyes instantly watering. He knew for a fact he'd scared Y/N for he'd never reacted like that in any situation with her.

Backing away from him, she held her hands up defensively and shrugged, "Okay, I'll just go get it for you."

As he recalled the memory, his head hung in disgrace, much the same as it had that evening when she’d left the room, tears in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to push her away like he had, but since that first time he’d continued to do so. And the more he did, the harder it was to stop. And she took it, never biting back or losing her patience. She accepted the fact that he showed her less affection, took everything he threw at her and then some, because she loved him. And damned it, he loved her, he loved her so fucking much it truly, physically hurt. And the thought that he was hurting her because of his inability to sort the jumbled mess in his head was killing him.

Taking a deep breath, he set out on the task he'd started. A shave and a shower. The vibration of the trimmers hummed against his cheeks and neck, trimming away the longer hairs, creating a stubble he then fully removed with his cream and razor. Then, he showered, taking his time, losing himself in his thoughts and playing back the last month in his mind. It was no walk in the park and a frustration and anger bubbled just beneath the surface, it was like he'd recognized he wasn't the same. And was fighting a never ending battle with himself to pull out of the darkness that had overcome him so he could let her light shine in. Fuck it, he needed to do it. He needed to rip the proverbial fucking band aid off and own up to his shit. Because losing her, that was absolutely not an option.

But how? Would she be willing? After all he'd put her through. He was still scared, and he knew his own limits were still there. But they had to start connecting or he was going to lose her. He felt it.

Towelling off, he disposed of his laundry in the dirty hamper and wrapped his towel around him. He looked in the mirror and again wiped off the condensation. He nodded at his reflection. Now he looked like Diskant. HER Disco. He smiled a little to himself and left the bathroom, feeling a lot different than when he'd entered.

When she wasn't in their room, he dressed in jeans and a tee, flip flops on his feet and headed down their small hall. He saw her tucked into the couch, a slouched long sleeve over her taught frame, denim shorts on those hips and legs that made his mouth dry. He could see the smoothness of them and his fingers tingle to touch them. Deep red painted toes balanced on the edge of the coffee table as she read the book she'd started recently.

He sat down next to her, garnering her attention. She looked at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. Those eyes that make him weak. Make him purr and melt and feel like he can conquer the world all at once. Those eyes that make him feel like a man above himself.

At the risk of losing his voice entirely, he began with, "I feel cooped up and it's driving me crazy. Can we go somewhere?"

A smile so genuine spread across her lips that it twisted his gut and sped up his heart. "Yeah, okay. Any idea where?"

He shook his head, "I just want to go. I want us to get out of here." He made sure emphasize the us in that reply, even if it didn't sound as so.

"Okay, let's go," she tossed her book on the coffee table and stood, grabbing her bag by the door and slipping into flip flops of her own.

****

You humoured his request, just to go for a drive. And you drove for hours, all over the place. But little did you realize where you'd end up eventually.

It was late in the day and the parking lot was emptying out. You'd pulled into a spot and turned to him, the Ferris wheel and various stands along the pier behind you. His eyes were covered by his own Wayfarers but his smile was soft and sweet.

"I'm kinda hungry, are you hungry?" You said to him, a humorous tone to your voice. Your words echoing ones he'd spoken to you so long ago, words that had become an inside joke between you.

He chuckled lightly, softly and replied with a nod as the two of you exited the car. You waited for him to meet you on your side. The second he joined you, he took your hand in his and together you walked the bike path until the steps up to the pier were accessible.

He stood at the railing, about halfway down, as you ordered two beers, two hot dogs and fries to share. The sun was just at the horizon, painting the sky in watercolour sherbet, and Paul's silhouette stood out against it. He saw you approach and grabbed his dog and beer from you, lightening your load. The two of you shacked up at a table near the games, almost the same table the two of you sat at on your first date.

“You know, I was suckered into a first date here? Guy was a total swindler, stalker too."

He swallowed his bite of food and washed it down with beer before he smiled and rasply said, "you were willing to go with me. I didn't sucker you."

“You totally trapped me.”

"You needed help, I offered," he pointed to himself, then to you and smiled, "willing participant."

"However you spin it so you can sleep at night," you sighed. "I'm just glad I fell for it."

Paul nodded, "me too." He perched his sunglasses on top of his head. "I love you, so much." He took your beer from your hand and set it on the table top, whilst pulling both of your hands into his.

You couldn't hide the obvious hitch in your chest at the outward affection. The lump in your throat hurt to swallow as your eyes welled up.��"I know, I love you, too. More than anything." You fought the emotion in your words, the way they were starting to make your voice quiver.

He sighed at your emotion and shook a deep breath. “This isn't easy." He stalled, allowing his voice rest a second in order to keep trying to get his words out. "I'm not easy." He paused again. "I’m sorry.”

"It's okay," you shook your head.

"It's not." His voice was starting to give way again and you saw the frustration on his face.

“Hey...” you squeezed his hand, “I’d rather you did take it out in me than bottle it all up. I don’t like it when you don’t tell me how you’re feeling.” It broke you to watch him struggle, each and every day it broke you. And you were at the end of your rope, frayed and tired of keeping it together. You sighed. “Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Text me for Christ's sake!”

He chortled a bit and shook his head, "it's not the same." He brought your hands to his lips and you closed your eyes at the feeling it gave you.

You shook your head, if he wasn't going to make the first move then you needed to try. "Do you trust me?"

He frowned and nodded. “Always.”

Without words, you leaned forward, scooting yourself onto the edge of his seat bench and leaned the forearm to your left arm against his right shoulder. Your fingers scratching behind his ear. Gently you brought your right hand up his chest, slowly, delicately, over his shoulder and he flinched away from you. "Paul, please," you whispered. You could see the way his body started to shake, his breathing laboured. "It's just me, baby."

The closer your fingers got, the more his hands twitched to pull you away. You didn't know for certain what was going on on the inside, but you had a pretty good idea. On the outside, his eyes shone back at you with fear as he tried to just breathe. Then your fingertips brushed the raised pink skin that just peeked over the edge of his tee…

The pads of her fingers felt like red, hot needles the way his skin was reacting. But that was nothing compared to what was firing in his brain.

He clenched his teeth together, tried to keep his breathing calm and regular as those gentle fingers that could make him purr and sing moved delicately over the raised edges of his scar, her eyes never once leaving his. Quickly, the feeling of red hot needles dissipated and he felt nothing but a relief that washed over him from his scar to his toes. He could just feel her and that was monumental.

A deep, shaky breath rumbled his chest as he painfully swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing it all twitched under her touch. It felt the same. Nothing had changed, that familiar tingle he usually felt at her touch sparked something deep inside. The involuntary little shudder he always emitted when she hit that little sweet spot, shot up and down his spine and he felt his lips curl up on a smile as his girl beamed at him.

“See.” She whispered.

“How...” his voice croaked and the words died as he took a deep breath, giving himself a moment. “How did you know that was...” another pause before he shook his head, gesturing to his mouth.

“Because, Paul Christopher Diskant, I know you inside out.” She delicately touched him still, her nails just at that spot that made him quiver. "This doesn't change anything. Not now, not ever."

He let out a strained sob, pulling her close, his lips harshly on hers.

“Tell me about it, Stud.” She smiled against his lips.

"Let's go home," he managed before his voice cut out again.

“Is that an order or a request?” She teased.

He grinned and popped a shoulder in response.

The drive from Santa Monica to home was the most comfortable you'd been in weeks, and you could tell Paul was too. As you drove, he couldn't stop smiling, like this weight had been lifted and the fog between you cleared. His eyes didn't leave your profile, his fingers entwined between yours, never letting go.

****

His hand never left yours as you walked the short path from the garage to your little one bedroom shack, even single-handed unlocking and opening the door. You couldn't even step through the threshold before his lips were on yours, soft and slow, gentle, his tongue gliding through the opening you gave him. A kiss so deep you were sure the two of you were ethereally floating. You tossed your bag on the couch as you passed it by, toeing off your sandals as Paul gently tugged on your hand, an instruction to follow him.

Down the narrow hall you went, directly to your bedroom tucked off in the right corner at the end of it. Again, his lips are on yours and if you didn't know any better, you'd detected a slight tremble in his touch as his hands came to hold your face close to his. Your hands rested against his chest as he kissed you breathless. There was no rush or desperation behind his kiss, if anything a wanton need crept through the both of you but you weren't going to push him, no. You knew Paul needed to set the pace, for whilst you could read him like a book, this terrain was new and navigating his new emotions and fears needed to be on his time and terms.

You were just happy he was touching you again, allowing you to touch him. You missed him, missed the way the two of you were. This had by far been the longest the two of you had been intimately separated since your beginning.

His hands left your cheeks and gently gripped at the bottom of your top. You stepped back a little, raising your arms so he could pull it straight over your head. You watched his eyes soften as he looked at you, almost like he was seeing you for the first time again. You reached for the hem of his own shirt, but he took a half step back, freezing you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, “if you’re not ready, leave it on or... it can wait, we can wait.”

He swallowed hard and quickly his hand gripped the back of his collar, pulling the tee over his head. You took care to keep your eyes locked on his, knowing exactly what was making him nervous- his scars. As his eyes searched yours, your face broke into a smile and then he was back on you, his hands on your hips, pulling you close as his mouth claimed yours. His hands felt warm on your skin as they travelled up your sides, only letting go to move to your jaw and neck. His thumbs across your cheek, his fingers splayed around your neck and into your hair.

He kissed you with all tongue, his lips massaging against yours as he changed the position of his head, tilting it the opposite way. And for a moment he pulled away, his hands still on you, the burn of his eyes lustfully blown as they bore into yours. Then, he moved in on you again, his nose bumping against yours as his thick, flat tongue filled your mouth fully, yours submitting against it, allowing him to devour you. It was as if he was opening up your soul, tasting feeling and seeing every colour of the rainbow. You felt as if your body was going to explode with the feeling sheer desire and love flooding hours state, but above it all, happiness that he was kissing you like this again.

It left you breathless and wanting more. You actively fought the urge to rip his belt buckle open and shove his jeans down, trying hard to leave him to set the pace. But, as always, he could read you like the pages of a well-worn novel and that maddeningly smug, cheeky school-boy grin crossed his face. It twisted your insides and made your skin tingle.

His fingers wound through your hair as he backed you towards the mattress. As the crook of your knees hit the side of the bed, he kissed you again, his fingers moving to the button of your denim shorts. Your mind was excited, your body fully responding to his touch, his movements. You’d missed this. His fingertips touched your tummy and you shivered, the denim quickly falling away as you fell onto the mattress.

You watched as he undid his button and flies, the zipper echoing in the stillness of your room, bouncing off the exposed brick and vibrating in your ears. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his denims, strong thighs, arms and taught abs flexing as he crawled over you, his hands planting either side of your head. The muscles of his shoulders twitched as he lowered himself over you, his lips claiming yours in a slow dance, his tongue leisurely tangling with yours, a soft sigh escaping him.

You continued to resist the urge to touch him where you have always shown him you're there with him, that part of him that makes him sing and shiver. That spot that only you know of that makes him melt against you, submit to his lust and desires for you. Instead, as his tongue felt every part of yours, his hands caging himself over you, you tilted your hips, your hands grazing the underside of his biceps, curling around the raised skin of his tattoos. At the feel of your pelvis bumping his, he gave a little grunt, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing to yours as he returned the gesture, his own grinding into yours, the hardness of his arousal unmistakable through his boxer briefs as it brushed against the thin cotton and lace of your panties. His words hit your ears, "need you, Sugar, so bad." You practically purred as you heard your nickname clearly and for the first time in weeks, not strangled by pain, or muted by frustration. His voice was his own once again and it caused a sting in your eyes. Your hands moved along his torso, from his ribs down to his hips, the waistband of his boxers bent by your fingertips. All whilst his lips moved over your jaw, behind your ear where you gasped before he moved down your neck, nestling soft kisses against the tops of your breasts. “You got me, Stud. Always.” At that, he crashed his lips to yours in an attempt to hide the sob you could faintly feel against your own lips.

Your hands gently cupped his jaw, holding his face to yours as the kiss grew desperate, his hips rolling into yours again. Suddenly, he moved back, kneeling between your legs as his hands hooked into the waistband of your panties. “Off.” His voice was raspy once more as he issued the instruction, yet the undercurrent of desire was unmistakable. Obliging to his instruction, you raised your hips off the bed and allowed him to pull them down, his body shuffling along the bed as he glided the garment down over your legs. His heavy hands caressed up your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles over your skin. God, did your skin burn in delight at his touch, you had to wonder and think if he felt the same. There was no denying he did, or you wouldn't be here, you'd still be at the pier, figuring out how to navigate his feelings, his fears. His body led over you, your sex and his barely touching, but yet twitching and pulsing with deep desires of need. His hand pulled down the cup of your bra, his mouth taking gentle nips against your breast as his mouth moved to your nipple, where he gently rolled it between his lips before his tongue swirled the sensitive nub. Your back arched in pleasure, one hand twisting in his hair, the other fisting in the sheets besides you. His free hand slipping behind your back to expertly unclasp your bra, allowing it to loosen around your arms. "Paul...." you moaned. His free hand reached for yours that was fisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers apart and taking your palm against his, entwining your fingers. You were more than ready for him. Like he needed you, you just needed him too. It took one rock, one hip thrust and he slid right inside. "Oh fuck," you both let out, his a good rasp and yours a whimper. It felt so good, beyond good, the way he filled you, stretched you. You wasted no time in flicking your hips up towards his as he thrust down. Your insides fluttered as you joined together each time. God, did it feel... so... fucking... good. Again and again he rocked into you, his movements needy but not harsh, as a desperate need filled you both. You lightly nudged him with a knee and together you rolled, him to his back and you over his hips, still with him settled inside you. Tossing your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you rocked against him whilst he reached up and held your bouncing breasts in his hands, a gentle tweak of each nipple. The sensation sent ripples to your middle, warmth pooling at your core and you gave a soft moan of delight before you bent forward, your lips on his. The kiss was sloppy, his hips still rocking up into you as your pelvis rolled against his. You were close, you knew he could feel you twitching around him. Your lips were covering his as you slowly bounced and rocked on top of him, a pressure to your clit that was blissfully crippling.

In a sudden exertion of strength, Paul sat up and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips moving over your collar bone and down your sternum. He was as deep inside you as he could go, bottoming out as the angle changed and he was clearly hitting a new spot that erupted your insides like a volcano. Your body shook as your orgasm boiled at its peak, with each jut of his hips against you. With one hand around you, the other moving hair away from your eyes and keeping it back by his fingers, his nose rubbed against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he brought your lips to his. You were going to come and it was going to be absolutely amazing. Deepening your kiss, your fingers scratched at the back of his neck, just at the nape of his hairline and you started to feel him quiver. There he was, right there, like always. Your lips broke free from his and nipped at his strong jaw before kissing at the joint where it met his ear. You were careful now, despite the throws of your own orgasm starting to crash around you, to weigh your moves with precise care as you gently, delicately kissed down his neck. Your lips hit that pinkish-red raised mark and your world exploded. The blood surged to your ears, deafening you as you came, hard. Your eyes fluttered closed but the noise he made broke through clear as day, and they flew open again. Those beautiful blues were locked into your gaze as his broken whimper of your name blew into a loud groan as he clung to you, his hips stilling, his eyes fluttering shut. His noise died down, catching in his throat, his chest heaving as you felt him twitch inside of you, the after-throws of both your orgasms pulsing together. Tenderly, your hands slid up to cup his face as you kissed him softly, feeling him sag a little, and you gently pushed on his chest. You didn’t want him to release his hold but you knew he was going to be exhausted. He didn’t take much persuasion, his body boneless as he sank onto the soft mattress behind him. You went with him, your head tucking under his chin as the pair of you recovered, the only sound in the room the dying pants as you both eagerly drew breath.

His hand slipped into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you shifted and pressed your lips to his jaw.

“You okay?” You asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard as his other arm ran up and down your spine, fingers gently tracing a path along your still touch sensitive body. His lips pressed to the crown of your head.

When you'd regained the feeling of life back into to your body, you sat up, rolling off of Paul's hips, garnering a look of confusion from him. He loved when you would keep him inside you, and continue to feel the warmth of one another's bodies. You smiled softly at him, sleepily. You saw the look on his face, the look of contentment but of need and seeking comfort. It was a look you'd come to memorize as his 'I'm tired' look. Soft features, heavy eyes. Blissed out from love making or not, Paul was exhausted and you read every hint of it you memorized over the years.

"C'mere," you now rasped, your voice rattled by emotion and dry from moaning.

His lazy smirk crossed his lips and he knew that tone. He knew what was coming next. He rolled to his left and pressed his lips to yours gently before laying his head on your chest. You traced your first two fingers gently up and down his neck, along his shoulder and back up, a repeated pattern you only you had the map to.

A combination of a contented sigh with a little hum left his throat as his weight over you grew heavier, like the comfort of a weighted blanket. You blinked back the tears, because although you'd heard it time and time again, right then, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever made.

**** Part 5

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #Paul Diskant #paul diskant fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #street kings fan fic

209 notes · View notes