#and the first glimpse of Murphy... I can see it in my mind's eye so clearly

[wyvernquill]

Finally some more Dreamling Anastasia AU!

(Obligatory link to the masterpost with all the other posts in this AU - it's also pinned at the top of my blog!)

So, it's been... a while... but I've recently finally got some motivation to write a bit more of this. Apologies to everyone really looking forward to the finale/resolution - I've decided to go all the way back to the start of the story, instead. I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless!

(Tag list: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-kingdom - since it's been a, uh, really long time, please let me know if you're no longer interested in this AU/fandom and don't want to be tagged anymore, I won't mind! On the other hand, if someone else would like to be tagged in future updates, please let me know!)

---

“Sister… it’s me.”

The man on the dilapidated theatre’s stage shrugs a heavy, moth-eaten velvet coat off his narrow shoulders. It crumples into a dark semi-circle around him, releasing a dramatic cloud of dust.

“Dream… of the Endless~”

.

“Ah. Hm.” A somewhat fussy older gentleman in the empty space usually reserved for the audience adjusts the small circular glasses on his nose, grimacing in a polite and distinctly English way - which he has, once, after first coming to this realm and taking this form, spent hours practising in the mirror - while checking a long list in front of him. “Mr… Carter, was it…?”

“Oh, please.” The man on stage flicks back his white-streaked bangs. “Call me Hal.”

“Yes. Of course, Mr. Hal.” The gentleman purses his lips. “That was… not, er. Not terrible, I suppose. And we’re pleased to note that you appear to have… brought your own cloak.”

“Don’t get used to it. Zelda and Chantal only let me borrow it for the audition.”

“Well, it is a lovely cloak. Only, ah, while Dream of the Endless was known to have quite striking eyes, I do think that, perhaps a little less eyeliner…”

“I could tone it down, I suppose, but I really think the performance would lose something without the makeup.” Hal sighs melodramatically. “I can sing and dance too, if you need it for your… what is this audition for, actually? Play? Music hall show? Ooo, one of those moving pictures?”

“Er.” The gentleman fidgets with his cane, grass-green eyes flickering around the empty theatre. “Well-”

“Thank you, Hal.” The younger man beside him interrupts with a winning smile that only barely covers the boredom and frustration lining a rather ruggedly handsome face. “We’ll let you know.”

“Hm.” Hal, clearly enough of an old hand in the acting business to know a polite “you’re not getting the role, piss off” when he hears one, frowns, and bends down to gather up the borrowed cloak, stalking off towards stage exit right with his head held high, not deigning either of the two men with even one more look.

“...I really do not think this will work, young Robert.” The older man mutters, decisively striking through Hal Carter’s name on his list. It is the last. “None of them look even remotely like him. And the voice-”

“I know, Gil. I know.” The younger man, Hob - only Gilbert is proper and precise enough to call him Robert - rubs at his temples, as if to stave off a headache. “They never manage to get the voice right, do they.”

“Ah, if it were only that…” Gilbert sighs, setting the list down. His eyes are soft and unfocused, seeing far into a past that has long since been razed to the ground. “His Lordship, he… he had a certain air about him, you understand. An otherworldly strangeness. He was the dream-maker, and dream-made, and to look at him was to gaze upon infinity.”

A soft scoff.

“Even if we claim that he has been greatly reduced by being turned into a meagre human - no offence, dear friend - as long as he does not have some spark of endlessness about him, nobody who has ever met him would fall for the ruse. And we are attempting to con his family. I simply cannot see any viable path to success.”

Hob does not respond, for a moment, picking up one of the flyers on their table.

It reads:

.

SEEKING Actor, slender, pale, tall, dark-haired, in the 20-40 age range to play the role of Dream of the Endless (method actors preferred). Generous pay and further benefits await. Auditions each weekday at 6pm at the Old Whickber Street Theatre, Soho. Ask for Hob and Gil.

.

“We’ll find him.” Hob insists. “The perfect pretender. He’s out there, I just know it.”

“We are not the first fools who have attempted a, a caper of this sort.” Gil points out, almost gently. “None of the others ever succeeded.”

“Yes. Well. None of the others managed to find and correctly identify the late Dream’s own pouch of genuine dream-sand on sale at the black market.” Hob shoots back, gesturing at the cord just barely peeking out from under Gil’s collar. (They’ve decided it would be safer if Hob comes into contact with the sand as little as possible, and Gilbert has taken to carrying it as closely to his heart as he can manage.) “It’s hard evidence, Gil, it’s a sign, it’s our chance - and it might just be enough. The trick with a good con is really making it look like you’re giving the mark exactly what they desperately want… and there’s nothing in the world Death of the Endless wants more than to have her brother back.”

.

(She wants it so desperately, in fact, that she’s offering immortality to any sentient being who manages to procure Dream for her.

And, well.

There’s nothing in the world Hob wants more than to live forever…)

.

“Your word in- or, well, kept out of Destiny’s ears, young friend.” Gil sighs, collecting his lists and notes and the remaining flyers, tucking them into his coat and reaching for his cane. “In the meantime, how about we go down to the public house and have a bit of a snifter to wash away the memories of all those atrocious performances, eh, my lad?”

“Best idea you had all day, Gil.” Hob grins, clapping a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “Are you buying?”

Gilbert raises one grey brow. “At the risk of provoking a joke regarding my non-human status: in your dreams, Robert.”

Hob laughs; and, together, they step out into the winter night, old snow crunching under their shoes and new flakes beginning to drift, gradually, down from the sky.

.

.

.

It has been a decade since the end of the Endless’ reign.

Ten years since humanity tore Destiny’s book from his hands and burned it.

Ten years since Destruction abandoned his siblings, hiding away in his own, separate exile. 

Ten years since Despair’s first aspect was killed, and another took her place.

Ten years since Delight went mad with grief and became Delirium…

.

And ten years since Dream of the Endless was captured, bound, turned human, and killed.

.

People still whisper about it. Still speculate, trade gossip and hearsay back and forth. Some insist that the Dream King yet lives, hidden away, turned human, just biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to return to his siblings.

It’s a lovely legend, Hob supposes. A fitting end and non-end, for the Lord of Stories, to live on in one… but that’s all it is. A pretty tale, which will breathe new life into a myth only for as long as it’s being told. It isn’t true…

…but now, ten years later, Hob and Gil will damn well make it so.

.

.

.

Ten years is also, coincidentally, all that a man a few streets down from the old theatre can remember of his life.

Ten years since he was found, naked and emaciated and bleeding, in a ditch next to some countryside road in East Sussex.

Ten years of fighting his way through a life in poverty, with no family, no friends, no-one to care for him, except perhaps the birds.

Ten years of strange and haunting dreams, blurred faces calling out to him with names he can never remember later but knows are his; ten years of waking every morning with tears on his face and a longing for someplace - and someones - he wishes he could remember; ten years of a woman’s voice begging him night after night to come home to her, to them.

.

Ten years of being much too busy starving and freezing and barely surviving to spare even a single thought to the dying legends of the Endless.

.

This man turns his face up to the sky, snowflakes catching in his dark hair and on his coat like stars glinting in the night; and he shivers, his breath clouding mist-white in the air, curling thin arms around a narrow torso.

(For a moment, just a moment, his eyes glow dark and infinite, a mirror to the night sky and the endless universe beyond.)

And then, he ducks his head down into his scarf, shivers again, and continues on through the snow.

Ten hard years have taught this man better than to waste his time standing about and daydreaming.

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #it's been 84 years...... #i've got a rough draft of a scene or two after this too #endlessly busy with uni of course #and getting back into Good Omens my old love #but i've been feeling like dabbling with this au again lately so why not #and i just HAD to give you Hal doing the iconic coat drop scene #he would have been iconic as drag Dream of the Endless just saying #Hob and Gil are missing out #and the first glimpse of Murphy... I can see it in my mind's eye so clearly #him looking up at the sky with the stars in his eyes and the snow in his hair #and Death forever calling out to him in her sleep #gosh have i missed this au #can't guarantee too much more #but a few more bits are definitely in the works!

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Seven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,241

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

In the dark, you began to search for your phone to shine some light and, as you were reaching for the bedside table, your hands brushed Cillian a couple of time until you found it.

‘You were saying?’ you chuckled as you turned the little light on your phone on, flashing it towards Cillian.

‘It’s difficult Y/N’ Cillian then said, covering his eyes and you simply nodded.

‘That’s just life sometimes Cilly. I am sure you will find your way with whoever she is’ you then said, caressing his cheek gently before standing up.

‘Remember the last time we were in a blackout together?’ Cillian then asked, causing you to nod.

‘Oh my god yes. It was at your holiday house in Kerry and Danielle was freaking out, thinking that we will never get back to civilisation’ you laughed, remembering that night very well.

‘She was high so I can see how this happened’ Cillian laughed, before turning on the light on his phone as well.

‘Well, I don’t have any Weed but there is a whole bottle of red wine in the kitchen and a cabinet full of board games’ you suggested before gathering some candles while Cillian lid the fireplace in the living room for some extra light.

After you threw a few blankets and pillows down in front of the fireplace and Cillian eventually found his reading glasses, you started with some Scrabble but, usurpingly, after you finished half of the bottle of red wine, this soon became too difficult when you made one spelling mistake after another.

‘You are hopeless’ Cillian eventually observed as he won again, using the most absurd words he could think off after you only scored some points with words like ‘Soup’ and ‘Breasts’.

‘Well, how about a game that I am good at, huh?’ you laughed as you pulled out the Twister mat.

‘You don’t think that we are a little too tipsy for Twister?’ Cillian laughed, remembering that, the last time you played this game drunk, he ended up with four stitches.

‘Nope! I will catch you if you fall’ you chuckled as you started to warm up and opened up the ‘Twister-For-Two’ App on your iPhone which was giving you both directions with thirty second intervals.

‘Jesus, I am getting too fucking old for this’ Cillian said before getting into position, showing off his strong legs which immediately caused you to bite your lips. The fact that he wasn’t wearing anything but his black briefs and a grey t-shirt certainly was an incentive for you.

Left foot blue!

He was certainly getting an easy start, at least so he thought.

Right hand yellow!

But clearly, he was wrong when he watched you bend over right in front of him wearing your rather short Pyjamas featuring Bambi.

‘Interesting clothing choice’ Cillian chuckled as Bambi was staring right at him, covering your deliciously round ass.

‘Get your eyes off my ass Murphy’ you laughed but, deep down inside you didn’t mind him staring at you.

After just five minutes, both of your hands and feet were on the mat and so were Cillian’s.

By this point, Cillian and you had managed to thoroughly tangle yourselves together in a laughing mess and, at right foot yellow, Cillian accidentally bumped your breast. Slightly surprised, you took little notice.

Cillian on the other hand began to struggle as, once again, his manhood began to stir.

‘Seriously?’ he thought to himself as, just moments earlier, he couldn’t get himself into the mood with Lindsay and now that he wanted to prevent exactly this from happening, he couldn’t and was hard as a rock.  

At right hand green, things had become too much for him as you had to slide your right hand along Cillian’s inner thigh on your way to green. As you slowly moved into position, you got a glimpse of what was happening in between Cillian’s legs but yet, you pretended that you didn’t notice his erection.

‘Fuck, that’s it, you won. My back is sore’ Cillian suddenly huffed out, standing up abruptly before walking to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but grin as Cillian shouted out to see whether you wanted another glass of wine.

‘Yes please’ you giggled rather pleased with yourself but still, you thought that it was simply the friction that aroused him.

‘Do you want another game?’ you asked when he returned with two full glasses and, unsurprisingly, Cillian shook his head which is when you began talking.

You talked about almost everything and anything for about thirty minutes while sitting on the blanket together in between the scented candles and the fireplace.

By this point Cillian’s erection had subsided and you were curious as to whether it was you who caused it in the first place or whether it was something else.

‘Despite the blackout and you breaking it off with Lindsay, I thought that tonight was really fun’ you eventually observed after you finished your glass of wine

‘Well, you are a lot of fun to be around which makes it pretty easy’ Cillian said, finishing off his wine as well.

He smirked and shrugged. His eyes dropped and he started to trace a design on the crumpled blanket with his finger as if he wanted to say something else.

‘Can you ask you a question?’ you then asked out of the blue after having built up some courage.

‘Of course’ Cillian responded as his eyes lifted to yours, and you almost lost your nerve.

‘You, uhm, seemed to have enjoyed the game of Twister a lot more than I had anticipated’ you said, biting your lip nervously while looking down at his crotch.

Cillian immediately blushed, the flush spreading down his neck and the top of his muscular chest. Mortified, he looked at you with wide eyes and his right hand rose to his forehead.

‘Oh, god, Y/N…I am so sorry, it’s just that…the wine…and….’ Cillian shuddered nervously, realising that you saw his arousal and, before he could finish his sentence, you quickly leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, just above the collar of his t-shirt where some of his chest hair was sticking out. Your palm tingled against the soft spatter of hair there.

‘Cillian, don't! I didn't mean to embarrass you’ you suddenly blurted out as you felt bad that you had, but also stimulated at the thought that you might have aroused him and that, perhaps, it wasn’t just a coincidence.

You were suddenly very aware of the soft, warm skin beneath your hand, and the warm wetness in your panties.

‘I promise you'll never say anything about it again, I just...I have to know...was it friction from the game, or was it, you know...me?’ you then asked, retreating you hand momentarily from his chest and squinting your eyes nervously.

Cillian sighed heavily and grabbed your hand, placing it back against his chest after you leaned away a little. His heart was racing, and you thought yours might pound straight out of your ribcage.

‘It wasn't the friction Y/N’ he then admitted and your breath caught in your throat.

‘I don’t know what it was or what it is, but I know it’s you. I am attracted to you’ Cillian then explained, causing you to grin excitedly.

‘So, when you just got aroused, what did you think about’ you asked as you played with his chest hair.

‘Y/N, we’ve been friends for so many fucking years and I don’t want to ruin this’ Cillian said almost embarrassed and you cut him off again.

‘Yes, and friends tell each other the truth. So, tell me, what was on your mind just then on the Twister mat?’ you asked, causing Cillian to sigh heavily again.

‘I was wondering what you would taste like’ Cillian said almost heavy hearted, admitting his desire for you before apologising for it.

Your heart felt like it stopped. Your entire body tingled, and warmth spread through your belly, snaking straight between your legs. This could absolutely be a dream.

‘Why don't you kiss me and find out?’ you said with husky voice as you moved your face closer to his.

With no hesitation, Cillian’s free hand moved around the back of your neck as his full lips met yours.

Your eyes closed and you opened your mouth, allowing his soft tongue to explore. He pulled you in and kissed you harder while you wrapped your arms around him to run your hands along his back and shoulders.

This continued for quite some times with neither of you being able to let go of the other as you smiled, kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths. Eventually, Cillian wound his hand in your long hair and broke the kiss to move his mouth to your ear.

As it was, you moaned, you shivered, and you dug your nails into his back. Your enthusiastic response drove him to be even more aggressive. He pushed you onto your back and rolled on top of you, the growing bulge in his briefs pressing directly into the spreading wetness between your legs. You gasped at the gratifying sensation.

Cillian pushed himself onto his palms, concerned.

‘This will change everything between us. Do you want this?’ Cillian asked.

‘I wanted this for over a fucking month Cillian. If you don’t fuck me now, I will never forgive you’ you huffed out almost breathlessly and slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to chuckle.

Of course, he wanted it as badly and as much as you did, but he was still somewhat worried about your long-lasting friendship and thought that, ideally, you should both be talking about this first. You needed to clarify what this was and what you were going to become after you slept with each other.

But the wine and his raging erection eventually got the better of him and you immediately wrapped your arms around him to keep him on top of you.

You ground your hips into his and forced his lips to yours, bringing his full weight back to your waiting body. His hot mouth made it back to your neck and ears, and you moaned again, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle the noises he was eliciting from you. He propped himself up on one forearm and began to explore your eager body with his other hand.

He was teasing you, tauntingly caressing you through the thin pyjamas shirt you wore. You writhed beneath his palm, wanting more. His hair wasn't long, but long enough that you could wind your fingers into it and guide his ear into your mouth.

You toyed with it, tracing it with your tongue, sliding the lobe between your teeth, enjoying hearing his breath get heavier and feeling his cock getting harder as he kneaded your breast through the t-shirt. Then he stopped.

‘Y/N’ Cillian huffed out, causing you to enquire why he stopped.

‘I saw you, earlier in the bath when you were masturbating’ he admitted.

‘You looked away though didn’t you?’ you smirked, causing him to shake your head.

‘I am sorry’ he said and you immediately grinned.

‘Did you enjoy watching me?’ you then asked as you raised an eyebrow and panted, rubbing yourself against him.

‘What do you think?’ Cillian chuckled before asking you what you were listening to on your headphones.

‘An audio book you narrated’ you smirked and he looked dumbfounded, which in turn surprised you, considering what he'd said to start all of this.

‘What can I say Cillian, you’ve got a goodman sexy voice’ you admitted before you pushed him off of you and sat up on your knees, peeling off your shirt to reveal your pierced breasts.

He sat, slack jawed, legs outstretched before doing the same with his t-shirt.

‘So many freckles’ you observed before you went further and hooked your thumbs around the waistband of your Bambi panties.

‘Since you already watched me masturbate, there are no more secrets for me to reveal in so far as my body is concerned’ you smirked as you slowly inched them past your hips, leaving you completely naked.

Cillian’s jaw dropped nonetheless. His eyes were hungry and he reached for his own briefs and removed them as well.

‘Well, unfortunately for you, I had no secrets to start off with. You’ve seen it all already’ Cillian said as he gave you a familiar, lop-sided grin that exposed his teeth. So gorgeous.

‘And I love seeing it all again’ you huffed out as your mouth watered at the sight of his erection. But, instead of letting him climb back on top of you, you firmly pressed your naked body against his chest and then straddled his taut body and kissed him soundly.

His hands roamed your body freely, exploring your legs, your back, your breasts, your ass. He caressed and kneaded, he stroked and fondled, all the while kissing your mouth and neck and ears.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as you ground your clit into his erection, whimpering in pleasure and whispering his name over and over again, something which sounded rather familiar to him.

After placing soft kisses across your neck, he cupped your breasts and rubbed circles on your rigid pierced nipples with his large thumbs, making you tremble. With his gaze boring into yours, he lifted each breast to his lips and gently nuzzled your nipples before gently tugging on each of your piercings.

‘Don't stop...please don't stop’ you moaned as you rode him harder, begging breathlessly and he wasn’t event inside of your yet. The only friction you got was on your clit against his very hard cock.

Cillian complied with your request and fixed his soft lips around a pink areola, sucking hard as he manipulated the firm nub and your piercing with his tongue. It pushed you over the edge and you came with a low moan, your fingers digging roughly into his scalp.

Keeping one hand around his neck, you slumped back onto his muscular thighs and tried to catch your breath.

‘Did you just cum?’ he asked rather surprised and you nodded, unable to say more.

‘Fuck, that is incredibly hot’ he said as his mouth hung open while he looked at you expectantly, and you knew him well enough that he was wondering if your orgasm meant you were done playing.

‘The tension building up over the past month was just too much, but please don’t dare think that I am done with you yet’ you smirked and Cillian mirrored your wicked smile and kissed you deeply until you placed both hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back.

He resisted at first, eager to keep touching you. Finally he relented and propped himself up with one hand behind his head, watching you as you kissed and licked and sucked your way across his muscular chest and stomach again and again.

Any time you came to his nipples, his eyes pinched tight and his hips involuntarily jerked toward you. You pressed your slight body down onto his rigid cock, making him emit a deep, guttural moan. It was all you could do not to impale your wet pussy on the willing flesh, but you were enjoying the anticipation far too much.

You slid your body down on his, his freckled skin a striking contrast against your much darker tan. While you made your decent, you briefly thought again about just climbing onto him and lowering your wet, ready pussy onto his very hard cock, but you decided that as late as it was, it was still early enough in the night to do everything you wanted. And you wanted to make him come in your mouth just as you had fantasised for weeks.

When you finally reached your destination, Cillian’s cock, was standing at attention in your hands. It was so long and thick that it made your small hands look positively tiny in comparison. You ran them up and down the length of his shaft, taking the time to trace every line and curve carefully.

‘Fuck, Y/N, this feels so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as he watched you with hooded eyes and you started stroking him more rhythmically. His head rolled back, his hips jutted forward, and you couldn't contain yourself any longer.

You inhaled all that you could at once, which admittedly wasn't much considering all that remained. You pulled your head back, sucking hard, and went down for another try, and another, and another, gorging on a little more of his shaft each time.

‘Jesus Christ’ Cillian groaned again loudly as you finally managed to take all of his length and he bottomed out against the back of your throat.

You grinned as you accomplished what you had hoped and began bobbing your head up and down his shaft.

Occasionally, you snuck glances at his face when you could; sometimes he was staring at you fixedly, his mouth pinched to a narrow line, other times his eyes were screwed tight.

‘Y/N, I am close, fuck, you need to stop’ you eventually heard him weakly say as you continued to pleasure him with your lips and tongue.

But, instead of stopping, you looked him straight in the eyes and took his cock deeper down your mouth.

‘Y/N, fuck’ he groaned, trying to delay his release until he realised that this was what you wanted as you continued to suck him eagerly.

Eventually, with another loud groan, his entire body tensed and you could feel his sweet cum spurt into the back of your throat. Rope after rope, you drank every drop and, when he finally came down from his high, you gently licked him clean and he sat up and pulled you into his lap, kissing you deeply.

‘You just kissed me after you came in my mouth’ you observed when your lips drifted apart which is something James, the only man you had ever been with before tonight, would never have done.

‘Does that bother you?’ Cillian asked concerned and you shook your head.

‘No, I think its fucking sexy’ you blurted out before kissing him again and, just as you did, you felt his erection reviving underneath your ass almost immediately.

While sucking on your tongue, his large hands grabbed around your waist and rolled you over on the blanket beside him.

He crawled over you and stuck his tongue in your ear, making you claw at his back until he whispered ‘When I said that I wanted to know what you taste like, I meant that I wanted to eat your pussy.’

This was probably the dirtiest thing you ever heard him say to you and you liked it a lot and wiggled out from underneath him just enough to spread your legs provocatively.

His breath on your legs, coupled with his revelation that he had been fantasising about licking you, made you quiver. He slowly kissed the inside of your thighs, occasionally brushing your soaking mound with his nose or his lips. You relished every second and it wasn’t long until he locked your gaze and pressed his tongue flat against your vulva.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian, fuck’ you moaned out as he was licking and sucking you.

He covered your labia and clitoris in wet kisses before sticking his tongue deep inside you, causing you to scream out louder than ever before.

As he continued to pleasure you, one of your hands was buried in his hair, tearing at it as he made your body go crazy whilst the other clenched against the blanket beneath you.

You remembered what Laura had said and there certainly was some truth to it. He was good, very good and it wasn't long before you'd built into another orgasm, but you didn't feel the need to warn him beforehand.

‘Oh, my fucking god’ you shouted out eventually as his wicked tongue sent you over the edge and your legs began to shake crazily while he pinned you down.

No man had ever made you cum with his tongue alone and the sensitivity on your clit following your orgasm was overwhelming and made you squirm.

Still, he continued to ply his tongue into your sensitive folds until you used both hands to pry his head back by his hair. He grinned from ear to ear, and you knew you were paying for teasing him earlier.

Languidly, he pulled his body over yours, pausing to kiss you here and there while you regained a little composure. His breath was heavy when he found himself at your ear again.

‘I want to be inside you’ he whispered and you nodded fervently.

He raised himself to his knees, his erection again at full mast. You felt a momentary twinge of nervousness. He was bigger than James and this worried you just a little.

‘Do you want me to go and get a condom?’ Cillian asked and you knew that he kept some upstairs in his bedside table which, ironically, Lindsay had bought for him.

‘No, I am on the pill. I want to feel you, all of you’ you said, biting your lips with anticipation.

This was all Cillian needed to hear and, within seconds, he lined himself up you’re your soaking wet entrance.

He knew that you had never been with another man other than James and was gentle and slow as he entered you, increasing the pace of his thrusts only after you'd had a chance to get used to his length and girth and began raising your hips up to meet his.

‘Oh god, you feel so fucking tight Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he thrusted in and out of you.

‘Cillian, fuck me harder, oh god’ you screamed out almost at the same time. He felt so amazing inside of you that you could barely breathe! You probably looked like the proverbial fish on dry land, gasping for air as you drown under wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure.

You were almost grateful when he folded over you and groaned into your neck, the sound of your name from his lips bringing you to one last climax as he enjoyed his.

‘Fuck yes Cillian’ you groaned as you could feel him pulsate inside of you, filling you with his seed as you climaxed in sync.

By this point you had lost count of how many orgasms he'd given you, but you were fairly sure that you could make him come every hour on the hour for the next three or four days and still be in his debt.

You never had sex that good and you struggled to contain yourself after you both were breathless. Cillian held his body close to his as his breath normalized, and you shuddered as he pulled his softening cock from inside you, lamenting its absence and causing some of his cum to leak onto the blanket beneath you.

‘What do you think? Should we get to bed?’ he eventually huffed out and you nodded, but weren’t so sure whether you would be sleeping in the same or separate bedroom.

‘I might need some help getting up’ you giggled, knowing that you wouldn’t be walking straight for days.

Cillian was quick to flash up his phone and scoop you up from the floor in response to your comment and carry you to your bed.

‘Uhm, do you want me to stay with you?’ Cillian asked somewhat nervously and you bit your lip and nodded at him.

Within seconds, he slid into bed with you, turned off the flashlight on his phone before pulling the top sheet over your nude forms before sliding an arm around you to curl you into his warm body.

‘This was incredible, even better than I had ever imagined’ he said and you nuzzled into the soft hair that sparsely covered his chest, still reeling that the most amazing wet dream you'd ever had had happened during your waking hours.

***

The following morning, you were woken by your phone which rang not once, not twice but three times in total until you finally answered it.

‘Hey, what’s up’ you huffed out with a dusty head while Cillian was stirring besides you.

‘I really need to talk Y/N, I am sorry. I know that Cillian is seeing someone by the name of Lindsay and I am really fucking upset about it’ Laura went on to say before telling you once again that she wasn’t over the break up and suspected that he was seeing her and Lindsay at the same time.

‘I can’t really talk about this right now’ you said, your head pounding as Cillian’s arm wrapped around you.

‘Can you call me back when you can please. I know you said that you wanted to stay out of this, but there is more to it’ Laura then said and you were immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

[missymurphy1985]

The Lesson

After breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, you finally found the courage to enrol at university, studying Modern Theatre. Your life now taking an unexpected detour to its original plan of marriage, babies, settling down. This is going to be an interesting year.

Tag List (message me to be added): @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

Warnings - smut / teacher.student relationship

Main Characters - Cillian Murphy (he's 35 and single for the purpose of this fic, no children)

"Hey!!! Over here!!" You heard Sarah, your best friend, shouting from the other side of the hall and made your way over.

"Thank god, I was starting to think I'd gone to the wrong place! This place is huge!!" You laughed as you hugged each other. Your bag slung over your shoulder, you linked arms with Sarah with your other arm as you made your way down to the Lecture Theatre.

"So how are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"Nervous! I never, in a million years, thought I'd be doing this! I feel so old!" You laughed. At 26, you were easily the oldest student here, but Sarah laughed your worries away.

"Trust me, you're not. Once they revealed who the teacher was going to be this semester, a fair few extra people signed up to do that course y/n!" You looked at her confused.

"What, Mr Allen?? He's about 75 isn't he?" Sarah laughed again and left you at the door to your classroom, making her way to her own Design Studio at the bottom of the corridor to teach her own class.

"You'll see when you get inside!" She called behind her, smiling.

You took your seats near the front of the room, looking behind you you could see a gaggle of ladies in the back corner, all of them easily over the age of 40 with no clear interest at all in the subject at hand. They were all giggling like children.. this was going to be fun, you thought, rolling your eyes. Turning back round, you caught a glimpse of a dark haired man making his way through the door at the back of the room. As he made his way to the desk in the centre of the stage area in front of the students, you couldn't help but gasp a little. Jesus he was cute....

The ladies at the back squealed in delight and the man rolled his eyes.

"Right then, let's make a few things clear from the off shall we folks?" He spoke, his Irish accent booming through the auditorium. Everyone fell silent.

"I have a passion for the arts - I've been involved with them since I was 19. I'm here to teach you all I've learned over the last 16years and I plan on teaching it to like minded, dedicated people. People who want to make a career out of the beauty that is theatre. Those of you here simply to catch a glimpse of anything OTHER than a teacher doing his job, the doors at the back of the room." He stood still, leaning against the desk. The gasp at the back of the room was so loud, you couldn't help but giggle a little. Busted ladies. They all whispered to each other, a few of them glaring in the man's direction as they made their way to the back of the room. Slowly but surely, a few others also left sheepishly, men included, and you couldn't help but notice the man smiling a little underneath his floppy brown hair and round glasses. Who was this man??

"Now that's taken care of, I'm hoping I'm left with students that are here to learn the theatre and nothing else..." He paused, looking round the room. His eyes met yours and he paused for a second, raising his eyebrow slightly. You were now the oldest in the room, and you felt even more out of place. You kept a straight face, and maintained the eye contact with him. He wasn't bullying YOU out of here, you didn't care who he THOUGHT he was.

"Right... Well we'd better get going then!" His demeanour changed, he smiled broadly clapping his hands together. "My name's Cillian Murphy - please for the love of God call me Cillian... Mr Murphy is my Dad and I'm not quite ready for that level of old yet." A few chuckles in the room - that tension was gone. "This isn't the first time I've done a class like this, and I've had to evict people part way through for.. ah.. shall we say inappropriate behaviour. Wanted to nip that in the bud from the offset, so I apologise to you all now for the way the class started. Now, do you all have the textbooks the school sent out last month? Let's start on page 35 shall we?" The class, including you, opened the books in unison to find the chapter on Lighting and Sound. Cillian glanced back over at you, a look of uncertainty on his face. You could feel him staring, but refused to look up at him.

"So how are your classes going y/n?" Your mum walked into your apartment to find you studying, book one side, laptop the other and you making notes in the middle of your desk in the corner of the room. You'd given her a key a month prior so she could let your dog, Juno, out during the day while you were at uni.

"It's hard work! I had no idea there was so much to learn about the theatre, they make it look so easy!!"

Your mum laughed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for you both. Kicking back, you allowed yourself a break after 3 hours studying and met your mum at the small breakfast bar.

"I hear you have a new teacher too? Cillian Murphy?"

"Yeah, he's amazing! He's been there and done it all mum, the stories he tells are fascinating!"

"You know who he is, right?" You did know. You'd googled him when you got home after that first lesson. Pretty big hot shot actor, but you weren't bothered. He seemed pretty down to earth and normal to you.

"Yep I know - you'd never think it though, he's so... Normal I guess?"

"Cute too."

"Mother! Behave!" You both giggled. You couldn't deny he was very attractive though - but you could tell he was a professional. No way had he even looked at you that way - in fact you were convinced he thought you were there purely for him, rather than the course, so you were even more determined to pass this semester with flying colours to prove a point.

The following weeks were filled with more information than you could get your head around. You hated to admit it, but you were struggling to keep up. You hated admitting defeat, but you were really starting to wonder if you could carry on at this pace. Your work was starting to slip, and Cillian had noticed it too, much to your dismay. He'd called a 1-2-1 with you this afternoon, and you were convinced he was going to pull you from the course. You knocked on the door of his office, the defeat written all over your face.

"Come in y/n.."

"Hi.." you tried to smile as you sat across from him. He had your latest piece of coursework in front of him on the desk and he was leaning back in the chair, eyeing you through the rims of his round glasses. Standing up, he made his was over to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of Irish Whiskey. You watched him, silently, as he put two glasses on the desk.

"Shouldn't be drinking this during the day, but felt the need. Want one?" You smiled, nodding your head.

"Conversation is clearly not going to be a fun one, no?"

"What makes you say that? I'm just lightening the mood y/n, you walked in here looking like you were going to either cry or knock me out!" He laughed, and offered you the glass. You took it, and sat it in your hands. Your fingers connected and you forced down a gasp at the contact. You'd refused to show him any kind of attraction but it was difficult while he was sat so close to you.

"Listen, I know I'm falling behind Cillian, I'll make it up I promise -"

"Stop. It's okay. Yes, your marks are dropping slightly, but not by much, okay? I'm seeing real potential in you. I invited you here to talk to you about some extra classes to help bump you back to where you need to be. What do you say?" He took a sip of the whiskey and so did you. Relief washing through you as the warm liquid fell down your throat. Hopefully it hid the blush in your cheeks.

"Um.. wow... Okay.. yeah! That'd be great, thank you!" He smiled again. God that smile... Stop it y/n.. he's your teacher, stop.. he sat back down at his desk and handed you a book.

"Great! I've put my phone number on the inside cover. Have a read of this, and call me when you're done. I think you'll like it." You took the book and smiled. A history of Modern Theatre. You agreed, definitely an interesting read.

"Is it classed as 'appropriate' for a teacher to give a student his phone number, Cillian?" You smirked, referring to his opening outburst on that first day. He chuckled.

"Maybe not, but I'm not a teacher, I'm an actor helping out the local university for a semester while the actual teacher takes a leave of absence." You'd heard Mr Allen had fallen ill, Cillian was just a temporary stand in for three months. Nothing permanent. "I have a new job starting in January, I'll be done here by Christmas." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad at the thought of him not being around anymore. Without admitting it, you'd looked forward to seeing him every day in class. He stood again, and raised his glass in a toast. You raised yours.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You. We're drinking to you y/n. I'm telling you, I'm seeing some real potential with you - you're going far, just need to focus more on the content, that's all." You blushed again.. was that the reason you were distracted? Him? Maybe. "Meet me back here tonight, around 4:30? Should be done with marking by then, we can make a start?" You agreed, a nervous knot forming in your stomach.

**************************************

You'd been having your 1-2-1 meetings with Cillian for more than a month now, and your marks were certainly improving. You had finished the book he gave you, but you hadn't plucked up the courage to text him yet. Watching TV alone in your apartment one evening, you downed your third glass of wine and picked up your phone. He wouldn't have given you the number if he didn't expect you to use it, come on y/n...

"Hey Cillian? Just letting you know I finished the book. Really good read, thank you! I'll have it back with you in the morning. And thank you for spending time with me helping to improve my marks too, it's really helped. Y/n x" pressing send, you cursed yourself, why the hell did you put a X at the end!!! You cursed again when it was delivered... Then again when its status changed to 'read'... Oh crap... A reply.

"Glad you liked it! It's been a pleasure, you're doing a great job! Cx." He put one on his text too... Come on y/n, you're not a teenager anymore, get a grip of yourself!!! Your phone pinged again.

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow xx" 2 kisses? Ping.. "Maybe we can finish more than your coursework.x" What did that mean? Was he flirting with you?

"What did you have in mind? X"

"There's still half a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, shame to let it go to waste X"

"I don't think you'd be able to keep up with me Cillian 😉" you typed, feeling a bit braver.

"Challenge accepted y/n. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon X" you knew his stint at the university was coming to a close, was he flirting with you?

****************************************

You knocked Cillian's office door at 4:30 sharp, knowing how much of a stickler he was for punctuality. You felt nervous, after your texts last night you didn't know what to expect - was he flirting or were you just overthinking it? The door opened, and he stood aside to welcome you in, a smile on his face as he greeted you.

"Good to see you y/n, come on in!" He walked to the cabinet in the corner. "I never turn down a challenge, you in?" You smiled, nodding, as he poured two glasses.

"Good job I left the car at home this morning," you chuckled as he brought his glass to meet yours. Both of you sinking it down in one, you grimaced as the liquid slipped down your throat and he took the glass from you to pour another.

"We'll take this one a bit slower y/n, what do you say?" His eyes darkened slightly, the alcohol clearly having an effect. You couldn't help the warm feeling running through your groin as he licked his lips to clear them of the whiskey remnants that sat on them.

"Whatever you say sir.." he glanced up at you as you said 'sir', and leaned against the desk.

"Sir? Since when did you call me sir?" He tilted his head back slightly, glass swirling in his hand. You sipped your drink and stood to face him, confidence growing. You could see his attraction towards you, and you decided to go with it.

"Since you decided to try and seduce your student... Sir." He swallowed hard, the game clearly up, watching you take a step towards him. Your bodies inches apart, he brought his hand up to rest on your hip, pulling you that little bit closer.

"Probably shouldn't have put kisses on a text to your teacher, then, should you.."

"Probably shouldn't have given me your phone number then, should you.." the air was hot now, your bodies touching gently, your breathing becoming deeper. You brought your hands to his chest, over his shoulders, and he quickly spun you round so you were now sat on his desk. His lips found yours and he ground his hips against your core, your legs parted allowing him access, skirt hitched up to your waist.

"I've wanted you since that first day... Fuck y/n you're beautiful... Sexy... Smart..." He kissed your neck between each word, breathing becoming hot and heavy. Suddenly stopping, he kissed your lips before making his way to the door, turning the key in the lock, before coming back to finish what you started. Unbuttoning your blouse and opening it, his hand snaked around your breasts, underneath the black lace bra. Groaning slightly, he moved his hands lower, down your abdomen.

"Leave as much on as possible... I'm taking you on this desk, right now.. you okay with that?"

"Like I said sir, I don't know if you'll be able to keep up with me.." your leg pushed him away slightly as you stood up, pushing him against the wall. You sank to your knees, taking his trousers and boxer shorts down with them, his cock springing up, twitching, begging for attention. Gasping, he watched you lick a circle around the swollen head, down the shaft, before taking one of his balls into your mouth and sucking lightly. His hand in your hair now, pulling it gently as he groaned. You continued teasing him with your tongue, before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, giving it a hard suck, releasing it with a pop, sending his head back against the wall.

"Fuck... Take it y/n.. take it down..." You smiled, before sinking your mouth over his cock, all the way down the back of your throat, groaning into it sending shockwaves through him.

"Lets see how much you can take..." You sucked harder, not giving him time to react. Moving your head quickly up and down his shaft, you felt your core begin to leak, you'd never felt as turned on in your life as you did right now. You felt his legs start to shake...

"Yes.. fuck yes... Feels so good baby... Suck it... Harder.. god fuck yes..." His balls tightened, you could feel him trying to pull back but you held him firm with your hands on his hips, willing him to empty into you. "I'm gonna... You might... Jesus.... Fuck...." He came hard, gripping your hair for support as he came hard, you felt his cum shoot in the back of your throat and swallowed as much as you could, some of it spilling down your chin. You pulled your mouth away, holding your mouth slightly open so he could see his cum on your tongue before swallowing it back down.

"That was... My god... Fuck y/n..."

"Oh you will sir, you definitely will. I'm not done with you yet.." you stood up and sat back on the desk, legs parted again to reveal your core to him, completely bare. He didn't see you remove your underwear while you were sucking him, but he wasn't complaining. Gathering himself, he moved to stand between your legs and pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately, tasting a little of himself in the process and feeling surprisingly aroused from it. He moved his mouth down to your core, running his tongue along your open slot painfully slowly.

"Cillian... Please... Need to cum...."

"You will, baby, oh you will..." You moved your hands to his soft, floppy hair and pulled his face where you needed it. He loved you taking control and took your clit with his tongue, pressing it, rolling it around his tongue as he felt you begin to shake. You lifted a leg onto the desk to give him better access, and he inserted two fingers inside you, tipping them up to meet your g spot deep inside, emitting a sharp cry from you as you three your head back.

"Yes!!! Oh god yes... Right there... Fuck!!" Your hips were involuntarily rolling against his face now, riding his tongue as he brought you more pleasure than you thought was possible. Within minutes, your orgasm was building, and sensing it, he pumped his fingers harder against that one spot that was making you see stars. Three pumps and you came hard against his face, liquid flowing from you like a waterfall, hitting the floor underneath you as you screamed Cillians name. He leaned back on his ankles, watching you coming undone, smiling. Once you'd caught your breath, your eyes fell onto his his.

"Feeling proud of yourself there Mr Murphy?" You smiled. He stood between your thighs again.

"Extremely. But I'm not done with you yet. Turn around y/n." His blue eyes darker now. Your core throbbed, knowing what was coming. Standing up, turning round, you bent over his desk, his hands parting your legs. Taking a condom from his bag behind him, you heard the packet rip open and you rotated your hips, teasing him. He groaned deeply as he started to push his length into you, inch by inch.

"Ohh... Oh god..." You weren't ready for his size, you legs parting as much as possible. Inch by inch he pushed, allowing you to adjust, before bottoming out, his balls resting near your still throbbing clit.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard against this desk, y/n... You're gonna take every thrust like the good girl you are..." You bucked your hips up and he responded by pulling his cock nearly out, and thrusting back in powerfully enough to make you scream his name. Picking up the pace, he leaned over to grab your hair in his hand, giving it a sharp tug as he thrust into you from behind over and over, relentlessly.

"Harder... Cillian harder!!! Fucking... Oh god yes!!!" Loving the sound of your cries and the feel of your pussy contracting around his cock, he knew you were close to another orgasm.

"Rub yourself... Rub your clit baby, make yourself cum for me..." You reached a hand round to your core and found that bundle of nerves. Circling it hard, your orgasm built up again and you swore you saw stars.

"Good girl.... That's it baby... Let it go, I've got you... Let it go...." That was all you needed to hear. You came hard, and he couldn't hold back once he felt your walls contracting round him. "I'm... Oh y/n yes... Yes!" He stilled, you felt his cock pulsate, filling the condom. Both of you breathless, he fell forwards resting against your back.

He pulled out gently, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the bin, he chuckled slightly.

"Remind me to empty the bin before we leave... I don't think the cleaner will expect to see that in there in the morning!" You laughed too, standing up to face him.

"That was incredible... Just amazing..." You rested your head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair gently.

"I enjoyed that too y/n.. and I'd really like to see you again, if you'll let me?"

"I'd like that..." You smiled. You'd convinced yourself if anything happened it would probably be a one time thing, I mean he was a famous actor, what would he want with you? You had no illusions going into this.

"My teaching finishes here in 2 weeks - what do you say I take you out for dinner when it's done?"

"Sounds like a plan Cillian. But am I supposed to stay away until then?"

"Definitely not, y/n, we've still got a few 1-2-1 sessions to squeeze in before I leave..." He leaned down to kiss you, pushing you back against the desk again. His erection pressing against your core again. "It would appear I'm able to keep up after all y/n..."

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian teacher x you #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x smut

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Nine

Summary: Javier struggles in the hospital, but some of the symptoms are more somatic than physiological. He’s released, and the two of you have your first official date.

W/C: 4.2k (it just keeps getting longer... chapter 10 is 6k+)

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries, Javier used to be an asshole but he’s baby now, some innuendo/sexual flirting, brief mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: This chapter was actually hard to write! I had clear visions for 8 and 10 but didn’t have one for nine. Nevertheless, I really liked the way this turned out! I’ll post some sappy shit with chapter 10 but please know I love u all for reading and sticking around- it makes my little heart so happy that u guys love these two like I do <3

previous chapter | next chapter

Sleep is not easy when you have a massive stab wound in your abdomen. Javier hardly slept to begin with, but this makes it even harder. You tried offering sedatives but he harshly refused. You ordered dark and quiet for his room, but his sleep schedule was so helter-skelter before the accident that it was of no use to even try to fix it now. He can’t adapt when he’s not even in his own bed, he argues with you. Too damn bad, you tell him in return.

The only time Javier could sleep, it seems, is with you in the room. Specifically, in his arms.

It’s not that he thinks he’s unsafe. Hell, a hospital is the safest place he can be. It’s not that he fears passing in his sleep; he knows he won’t bleed out at this point. No, he just can’t sleep unless he has the comfort of a warm body wrapped up next to him. Specifically, the woman he loves.

You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips. “Javier. I’m working.”

“This is specialized therapy for a patient,” he offers, persuasive as ever.

“I can and will get the opiates,” you threaten. “You can’t stay awake forever, and we both know that.”

“Ángel. I just… need the security.” He looks desperate. His eyes are tired. He’s slept very little in the past few days, leaving him agitated and restless. “The only time I’ve slept well in here was when you were with me.”

You pout a little. It’s adorable, you must admit, and most of all, it’s true. You and other nurses have been catering to him around the clock, since he only sleeps an hour here or there.

Sighing, you look at him. Your eyes are tired too. You’ve slept only when he sleeps, which is barely anything. You’re working on the floor or in his room with him. “Let me go talk with Connie, cariño. I’ll see what I can do.”

You walk into the break room with tired eyes. “Listen, ladies.” Both Connie and Lorena are sitting at a table, eating something. “Javier isn’t sleeping. He asked for me to stay in there with him to get some rest. It’s the only way it’s helped so far. Would you two cover my rotation? Just for tonight?”

Lorena’s large eyes sadden, and she nods. “Por supuesto. Anything you need, love.”

Connie’s not as enthused, but she nods. “You’re lucky this floor is dead empty.” It’s all too easy to imagine this was happening to Steve instead of Javi. That’s what makes her cave.

You sigh in relief. You take a quick shower then return to Javier’s room in a pair of clean scrubs. He smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Hi. You hungry?” You ask, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He shakes his head. “Just tired.”

You smile softly. “Well, you’re in luck. Connie and Lorena are angels.”

“No, you’re my angel,” he says with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well they’re mine. You’re the devil on my shoulder,” you laugh quietly and sit on the edge of his bed. He chuckles and pulls you into him, and you snuggle in against him, your eyes slipping shut. He murmurs affirmations of his love for you into your hair as he falls asleep.

And that’s how Javier sleeps for the next few nights. Bits and pieces during the day, but only restfully when you’re in his arms.

The rest of Javier’s stay in the hospital is uneventful. He’s a model patient for you and the other women. He apologizes to Lorena for his outburst under the influence too.

“Ángel,” Javier calls as you try to leave the bed and takes your hand.

“Yeah, cariño?” You ask and sit on the edge of his bed, pushing his dark hair from his forehead. The name makes him feel warm and tingly inside. Pet names from women who mean it are all too rare to him.

“I… should tell you about Lorraine.”

“You don’t have to, Javi,” you shake your head and cup his face softly.

“No, I really should,” he protests, and you nod.

“She was my high school sweetheart. We both went to college and came back and fell in love again.” You nod along to the story, watching his facial expressions. He looks far away, like his mind is back in Laredo. “We were engaged. I proposed and everything, did the whole damn thing.”

“What happened?” You ask softly.

His eyes don’t meet yours. “I got cold feet. I… left her at the altar,” he admits. He’s terrified you’ll run out the door now. It’s not an easy decision, to run away from a life you’re about to lead. It’s even worse when you know what that whole church, full of people, will think. But he did it anyway, and he’s scared you’ll never look at him the same way.

You swallow hard. It’s not what you’re expecting him to say, but you have to admit that it does sound in-character for the man. “And how long ago was that, Javi?”

He looks back up at you. “Jesus. 15 years now maybe.”

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Time changes people. You know that. I know that. Your past is the past, love.” You press a brief and sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Javier. Don’t you ever forget it.”

You stand and leave his room.

Goddamn, Javier thinks. You really are an angel. You must be, to have that response to what he just told you.

Several days after the injury, Javier is discharged from the hospital.

Despite his rage and arguing, the embassy refused to clear Javier for work. He was to be placed on a brief leave to heal and return when he was up to walking on his own again, without some kind of balance or assistance. Steve agreed to bring Javier some things to work on every night after returning from the office. Javier is already a restless man, and neither you nor the Murphys want to find out what happens when he’s bored all day, his best friend and his girlfriend both too busy to be around. Besides, a deep dive into some cases couldn’t hurt, he argues, and Steve relents. You and Connie take on the responsibility of checking up on him at least once a day- usually her more so than you, due to the fact that she lived directly above him- and of running any errands he may need, for things like food or medication.

As you wheel Javier from his hospital room out to the Murphys’ car, you realize you don’t have his phone number, nor does he have yours. You stop the wheelchair in the hallway and grab a pen from a nearby table. “I know it’s kind of unprofessional to give a patient my phone number,” you chuckle and squat to his seated height, “but I really think you’re cute,” you flirt as you write your phone number on his hand with a permanent marker.

You hand him the pen and Javier grins, his neatly-trimmed mustache (courtesy of Steve’s steady hands) moving with his cheeks. “You’re lucky that I think you’re cute too or I’d be telling your supervisors,” he laughs and steals a kiss before writing his phone number down on the back of your skin.

“It’s kind of weird,” you admit as the thick felt tip brushes against your skin, “that I’ve told you I love you and I don’t even know your phone number.”

Javier chuckles and caps the pen. He holds up your hand and raises an eyebrow. “Now you do.”

-

Three days pass, and Connie gives you updates on his condition whenever she sees you. He’s still in a lot of pain, but he’s lucky he was strong beforehand. You know that for a fact, and it hurts your heart to picture those beautiful abs you caught a glimpse of not too long ago marred by a scar he’ll surely have.

As you get home from a shift, you sigh and plop down on the couch. It’s late, you notice, but you miss Javier. Knowing him, he’s probably awake; you’re sure his sleep schedule is still as terrible as it was before the hospital. You grab the phone from the end table next to your spot, dialing his number and waiting.

Javier picks up on the second ring. Of course he’s awake. “Peña,” a gruff voice answers. It makes you smile. For a second, you want to just continue on without him knowing it’s you, want to observe how he acts when he’s with others. He’s different around you, you know that, and it’s adorable, you have to admit. “Hello?” he asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” you laugh softly through the phone. “It’s me. Sorry, I just got distracted. You sound sexy when your voice is like that,” you tease him.

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Not a problem. How are you, hermosa?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that, Superman,” you laugh softly, leaning back against the couch. His voice instantly puts you at ease.

Javier laughs too. “Superman?”

“Big, strong. My protector.”

“Says the one who literally saved my life.”

“Who’s to say that cold wouldn’t have killed me if you didn’t take me to that diner?”

“Me.”

“I’m the nurse here.”

“And I’m Superman, apparently.” You laugh at that, wanting to reach through the phone line and kiss him then and there. “I’m no Superman, hermosa. I do bad things.”

“We all do, Javi.”

“Not as bad as me.”

“Gotta do bad things to catch bad people. You told me that. Are you trying to be this difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?” You ask sarcastically, smiling into the phone.

“I’m just telling you I’m not actually a good guy,” Javier says, his slight frustration evident.

“I was never under the impression you were. Is this you trying to push me away?” You ask, knowing that’s not the answer but hoping it’ll put some sense into him.

“No, no, cariño, I just-”

“Good, because we’re having our first official date tomorrow night. Okay?”

Javier chuckles a little at that. “I’m homebound. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Oh no, Superman. I’m coming to you,” you tell him, curling up into a ball and grinning. “I’m getting takeout and wine- or whiskey, if you’d prefer- and we’re having a date night at your place. What do you want for dinner? You’ve got to be craving something.”

This takes Javier aback. This certainly wasn’t something he expected you to say when you picked up. “Uh… no. Nothing comes to mind. And I’m more of a whiskey guy, but wine sounds more romantic, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll pick up something that goes well with wine,” you say with a nod, beaming. “And I’m going to be tired after my shift, so you better be in the mood to cuddle.”

A laugh rings through the phone. “Of course you want to cuddle.”

“Says the one who asked me to snuggle him to sleep.”

“Hey, I almost bled out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who asked.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Javi?”

“Yes, hermosa?”

Your voice is quiet and shy when you finally speak again. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

He grins, even though you can’t see it. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I like that, but we haven’t even had our first date.”

You can feel Javier rolls his eyes through the phone, but he’s clearly smiling when he speaks again. “Wouldn’t you consider that morning at the diner our first date?” He asks you, his face lighting up at the memory of it.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think we need to say it’s officially a date before it happens, then it can be a date.”

“I’m not going to be a very interesting date. I do have a large stab wound in my abs right now.”

“Don’t question my taste in men, Peña.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Do you want to dress up nice?” he asks. “A pretend night out?”

You grin at that. “That sounds wonderful,” you nod and rest your head on the pillows behind you, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

“Better yet, I’ll cook for you.”

“Why do I have a feeling your cooking features microwave cuisine?”

“First of all, that’s not fully true,” he laughs. “And second of all, at least let me pay for dinner.”

“Giving up that easily? Superman may have to have his title revoked.”

“No, you were just right. I’m not a great cook; takeout would be the best bet.”

“I’ll pay and you can pay me back by looking cute for me.”

“Is this how women feel when men are demeaning?” He teases.

“You got it,” you groan.

Javier sighs. “Don’t know how you do it. How was your day?” he asks, leaning back on his own couch, slipping a hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Long. My back hurts,” you admit, hugging the pillow to your chest. “The hospital is much more boring when I don’t get to sneak kisses from a hot patient.”

“I would assume so.”

“Got anything interesting in those case files?”

“I think Steve pulled out a box from ‘79 and handed it over just to appease me. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re supposed to be on leave. Do leave things.”

“Like what? You’re gone all day, so is Steve. There are my two options.”

“Javi,” you coo softly. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you are! You don’t even know what to do with your life. When was your last day off that you didn’t spend nursing a hangover?” There’s a beat of silence. “Exactly. Watch some telenovelas, read a book, pick up a hobby.”

“I have hobbies,” he pouts.

“Besides drinking, smoking, and fucking. I know your reputation,” you tease.

He’s silent and shy when his voice returns. “Did you-“

“I’ve known that the whole time, Superman. You think Connie didn’t spill everything the first time I asked her about you?” You chuckle softly. “No, I know about you. I don’t mind at all. It’s kinda hot,” you tease.

“Hey now, don’t start what you can’t finish. I’m not gonna be in shape for anything for a while.”

You bite your lip, deciding between flirting back harder or leaving it alone. You decide to leave it. “I’m not,” you chuckle. “I just think everything about you is attractive.”

“Even my giant stab wound?”

“Especially. If that’s what it took for you to admit you love me,” you laugh softly, and you hear him laughing on the other end.

“You should get some sleep, cariño,” Javi says in a softening voice. “It’s late, and you said your back hurts.”

“I will. I just… couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re doing. I’m glad it’s good.” You smile softly at the way his voice sounds through the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow night all day at work.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it here.”

“Goodnight Javi,” you tell him. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he tells you in return. “I love you too.” He hangs up quickly after saying that, before he can change his mind and stay on the phone with you for hours more.

-

As you leave the hospital the next day, your best friend’s voice rings out after you. “Use a condom!” Lorena shouts before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, an unplanned pregnancy would be the worst,” she teases and nudges your side. “Be safe!”

“Fuck you,” you mutter to her in English, but there’s a smile on your face as you leave the hospital.

“No, fuck Javi instead!”

“Goddamnit, Lori!”

The walk home is uneventful, as normal, but the sun is just about to start setting over Bogotá. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself, and you admire the skyline as you walk back to your apartment.

Once you get inside, you head to your bathroom and sigh as you look in the mirror. You’re tired, it’s evident, but your eyes hold your excitement. Turning on a cassette player in your living room, you dance and sing along to it in the bathroom as you do your makeup and style your hair. Both are simply done, but make you feel a little more confident, a little more elegant for your night in with Javier.

You dance along to the music and make your way into your bedroom. You change out of your scrubs and into the outfit you chose last night, in a rush of excitement after talking with Javier on the phone. It’s your favorite dress you wear when you’re going out, not that it’s often, one that makes you feel fantastic about yourself. You look in the mirror and have to admit, you look damn good.

After you twirl in the mirror a little, you pick up the phone and dial Javier.

The familiar greeting fills your ears. “Peña.”

“Hey, Javi,” you practically sing. “I’m leaving my place now, I’ll pick up the food and be over. Leave the door unlocked, that way you don’t have to get up and let me in, okay?”

Javier chuckles. “Yes ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and you grab your purse and a jacket, wrapping it tight around yourself as you leave your apartment building and head out to a nearby restaurant.

After the food is ready, you carry it in one hand, smiling to yourself as you walk the rest of the way to Javier’s. It’s closer than you ever knew, and it makes you smile even wider knowing that there’s only ever a short distance between you and him. The sun is now setting, casting everything in a warm glow.

Once you reach his apartment, you get hit by a wave of nerves. Impulsively, you climb the extra stairs and knock on the Murphys’ front door.

No response comes, surprisingly. Rather than continuing to knock, you get your courage up and go back downstairs, knocking on Javier’s door and letting yourself in.

Javier is at his kitchen table already, which is nicely set and even has a candle burning on top of it. He looks up when he hears you and smiles, and you immediately smile back. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, nice shirt and a tie, the shirt cuffed to his elbows. His hair, which has been messy nearly every time you’ve seen him, is neatly styled too. He looks professional, and it makes you giggle a little.

He takes a second to take in the sight of you too, his eyes raking all the way up your body until his eyes meet yours. “You look great, cariño,” he tells you with a little smirk, and you walk closer and set the food down on the table.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You look very formal.”

“This is what I wear to work,” he admits and tilts his head to the side.

“Then I’m going to have to come visit you at the embassy some time,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, for the first real time since the hospital. There’s silence between the two of you and you can hear a rhythmic knocking noise coming from somewhere-

You break away and your eyes widen, giggling. There’s a loud creaking sound that accompanied the pounding. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Javi asks, but then the noise reaches his ears.

You have to cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I have to admit, I went upstairs to ask Connie for advice before I came down here… I guess I know why no one answered,” you snort before you hear a uniquely feminine groan, and both you and Javier start laughing uncontrollably, falling into each other.

You bury your face in his shoulder laughing, then quickly remove it, forgetting you were wearing makeup. “Oh god, do you have a radio or something we can turn on to cover that up?” You as him, still giggling.

“Yeah, come on,” he says and leans on you for balance as the two of you walk to his kitchen. There’s a radio on top of his fridge, and he turns it onto the American station in town. You smile at the memory of first meeting him while this was playing. Some slow jam from a few years ago is on, and Javier cranks the dial to adjust the volume until you can no longer hear the Murphys and their activity upstairs.

The sun shines its last rays into the kitchen, casting an orange glow over both you and Javi. He looks down at you and swears he can see exactly what he’s feeling reflected in your eyes. Your eyes hold such kindness and depth and unconditional regard for him, and it makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let you go again, never let either of you ever leave this apartment and this moment. Javier has never been one for words, choosing mainly to express his feelings through the patterns of his hips against a woman’s, but he tries in this moment, just for you. “You… have gorgeous eyes,” he tells you softly, and you giggle and shyly look away. “Really,” he says, catching your chin in his hand and bringing your face back to look at him. “So beautiful. All of you, especially tonight.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing up into those big brown eyes and kissing him quickly. “Care to dance?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Javi chuckles a little and puts his arms around your waist in return. “Why not?” He asks, sneaking another gentle kiss before swaying the two of you around his kitchen. You rest your head in the curve of his neck and he smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to your head. He’s not a great singer, he knows that, but he mumble-sings the lyrics to you. You can feel his chest vibrate from his voice, and you sigh, pressing a kiss into his skin before resting your head on his shoulder again.

The song ends a few moments later and there’s a bit of dead air on the radio. No sound comes from upstairs and you lift your head, laughing a little. “Well, now that that’s all done… shall we eat?” You ask, and Javier nods, sneaking one last kiss from your lips.

The night ends with you and Javier cuddled on the couch. It’s late, and you’re watching his VHS tapes of old American movies. You’re snuggled into his side when he nudges your face with his neck. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in your dress?” He asks.

“What, are you trying to get me naked?” You tease quietly.

“No. Just want you comfy,” he murmurs, half asleep. You have to admit you’re tired too. “I have a proposal.”

“Yes I’ll marry you,” you laugh jokingly.

“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes. “Help me to my bed. You can wear some of my clothes. Sleep here tonight.”

You smile a little. “Is this your way of saying you can’t sleep without me anymore?”

“Sleeping alone is shitty once I got a taste of you,” he says with a charming smile.

“Alright Romeo,” you tease and kiss his lips gently. “I like that idea though. Let’s do it.” You stand from his arms, offering him a hand. He takes it and stands with a groan.

You help Javier to his bedroom, holding him up as a crutch and a balance. Javier’s tie was long discarded, after the two of you ate dinner. He strips the dress shirt and pants from his body, leaving him in just his boxers and a plain white shirt. He heads to his dresser and pulls out a large t-shirt for you.

You take it from him and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes as you unzip your dress. “You’re allowed to look,” you murmur teasingly next to his ear. His eyes fly open and watch you hungrily, the way you’re exposed in just a bra and panties.

“Mi ángel,” he mumbles, his hands on your sides. He looks down at your body before finding your eyes again and smiling softly. He kisses you gently. “I know I have a bad reputation. You know I love you for more than your body, right?”

You nod, your arms around his neck. “Of course I do, Javi. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

He nods. “Just… checking.” This is all so new for him, and you can tell. You kiss him tenderly for a moment before pulling on the big t-shirt and flopping on his bed.

“Now get in here and cuddle me, Superman.”

“Of course, cariño,” he laughs, sliding under the covers and kissing the side of your face.

-

translations:

por supuesto- of course

-

hey taglist, come get y’all juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

[guessimwritingficsagain]

Delightful, chapter Three (Javier Peña x reader)

Warnings : PTSD I guess, also NSFW. 18+. 

Author’s note : About that movie reference ... I'm a nerd.

Previously : Chapter one, Chapter two

Things came and went, time passing like a blur. You would say you’d known Steve and Peña for a long time now, long enough to see Connie come back.

You were glad when you threw Steve's toothbrush in the trashcan after getting a phone call from her, her voice soft on the other side of the line, thanking you. You thought the gesture unnecessary, with the way both Murphy and Peña had wormed their way into your life in a somehow improbable manner.

You’d had to have a talk with your boss about that, by the way, with him asking bluntly if he should expect to find you getting it on with someone in the restroom too. You’d come clean, and had explained what you’d seen that night, and what had followed. He’d softened, then, a hand on you shoulder, and he had murmured :

‘Don’t keep shit like that to yourself. You can talk to me.’

Both Steve and Peña had questioned why they’d gotten a drink on the house, after that.

‘Boss’s orders.’ Was all you’d offered.

You didn’t see them, those days, though. You gathered that with their work, that was bound to happen, and you tried to not let it get to your head. Besides, Nick was back, yet on another business trip, so you two kept busy. You brought him along to a screening of Batman Returns, despite his protests (and there were many). He was a no-nonsense kind of guy, so seeing you excited to see a movie about a man who dressed like a freaking bat and some characters with animal-related names left him incredulous.

‘I mean what the hell, Catwoman ?? The Penguin ??? What kind of names are those ?’

‘Come on, Nick, it’s Batman. The first one with Nicholson was so good, remember ?’

‘Never saw it.’

‘What ?’

He came with you anyway because he was that good of a friend. In the end, he didn’t find the movie that awful, but explained those were his thing anyway.

‘A guy called Penguin coming in a restaurant on a boat shaped like a rubber duck, that’s a bit too much for me.’ He laughed.

He walked you home.

‘You sure you don’t want to take the couch ?’ You asked when yo got to your place.

‘Nah. I’ll take a cab. The company’s paying for my room. I might as well use it.’

You went to bed thinking it had been a good day off.

You’d been woken up by someone pounding on your door. Figuring it was Peña, you got to it grumbling. The sight you encountered opening the door stopped you, though, because he looked like shit.

He came in before you could say anything, found the bottle of whisky he’d stashed here at some point because you didn’t drink whisky, and drank directly from the bottle.

‘Are you alright ?’

‘You don’t wanna know.’

He said that sentence a lot. You don’t wanna know. Right now, though, you felt like you had to know.

‘Talk to me.’

He was staring stubbornly at the wall, not even sitting down but rather leaning on your kitchen table. Why was he here, you wondered, if he wouldn’t even talk ? You allowed yourself to admire his profile for a second because it was a sight, you’d always thought it was, before taking a step towards him. You repeated :

‘Talk to me.’

‘Oh, you wanna know ?’

He turned his head sharply and the dark look on his face pinned you where you stood. You had a feeling, suddenly, that you didn’t want to know. He put the bottle down and started walking towards you, explaining :

‘We got set up and someone died. Seven bullets to the head. Courtesy of Pablo Escobar. And that dude ? That dude was fucked up. Shot a kid in the head, once, right in front of me. But now he’s fucking dead and I was the one who fucking screwed up because some pretty woman fed me some shit and he’s dead.’

Okay so maybe you were wrong thinking you had to know. Sometimes, you forgot how different Steve and Peña’s lives were from yours. They never really talked about it anyway. But right now, with Peña all but looming right over you, you were getting a glimpse of it and it wasn’t pretty. You scolded yourself, because you had seen some shit, once, and it had messed you up. You still were figuring out how to go back to normal. Hell, you weren’t even sure you could. You didn’t know why you were supposed to answer to that so you settled for :

‘Why are you here ?’

His laugh was bitter when he answered :

‘Well, I thought about fucking someone to let it all out but …’

You bristled at that and, not even letting him finish, snapped :

‘I’m not fucking you, Peña.’

You could see that pissed him off. He snapped back, as his hand went to your throat, not threatening in the least, the hold loose, thumb on your jaw, the whole thing feeling oddly possessive :

‘Why do you have to be so fucking difficult all the time ? I’m pretty sure I couldn’t get it up for some lady with nice tits right now because some lady with nice tits got me there in the first place. I’m not here to fuck you. Thought about going to a place I know, but turns out I don’t feel like fucking anyone right now.’

You internally winced at that : Steve had occasionally made some reference to Peña being a flirt and some kind of serial fucker but you liked not to think about it too much. The man himself never spoke about it, and even Steve had admitted once, telling you a story about that, how Peña had grown a bit sheepish when the both of them had to go to a brothel he knew. But, even if you would usually prefer not to know, the question was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself :

‘You fucked her ?’

His thumb pressed into your jaw at that, and his answer was a firm no.

Once again, you couldn’t help yourself :

‘Thank fuck for for that.’

He hummed, eyes a bit lost for a second, and whispered back :

‘Thank fuck for that.’

He came back to you when you put both hands on his shoulders and took a step closer, almost pressing your bodies together. His other hand went to your back, not bringing you closer but just staying there. His forehead gently landed against your temple as he took a deep breath.

‘I’m sorry.’ You stated, guilt tying knots in your belly.

You said that a lot, at least you said that a lot to him. You always assumed when it came to Peña, but both Steve and him were blunt enough to correct you when needed. As it turned out, you needed to be corrected a lot. So you were truly sorry, sorry for the loss of this person who died of course, but also sorry you assumed Peña was here with a prior, dirty, boundary-crossing motive. The only answer he gave you was a brush of his thumb against your jaw so you asked :

‘What do you need ?’

The hand on your back moved a bit, then, pressing you a bit closer, your bodies untangled but not quite hugging.

‘You know I’m not sold on that idea that men and women can be friends.’ He started.

You felt like joking, and you let yourself :

‘Yeah, because you can’t see a woman without thinking about getting your dick wet.’

Your own laugh sounded a bit unconvincing, mostly because you were in uncharted waters : just as he’d never talked about how much of a womanizer he was, you’d never mentioned it either. He humored you, allowed it, though his thumb moved right below your ear and pressed there, as he whispered, his breath hot on your temple :

‘Yeah. Fair enough. But I need a friend, right now.’

You felt like you were tiptoeing on the line now, because he was asking to be friends but you knew of his record with women, you knew his gestures were far too intimate to stay into the safe space of friendship and you were acutely aware of how your body was reacting, right now, to said gestures. But if there was ever going to be a time to address that - and you weren’t sure you wanted to, mostly because of his record with women - that time wasn’t now. So you offered him your couch instead.

You went back to your own bed, even though you knew you wouldn’t sleep, feeling guilty for how needy you were right now, as Peña was sleeping on your couch. You didn’t want to touch yourself because it felt indecent, but your mind kept going back to those moments when Peña’s thumb had pressed into you skin.

Javier, you thought.

Javier, you allowed yourself to think.

You came without a sound.

Chapter four

———————————

Tag list (don’t hesitate to ask to be added)

@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855

#Javier Pena x reader #Pedro Pascal x reader #narcos #javier pena #Javier Pena x you #delightful

[aceghosts]

Whumptober 2021 Day 12: It'll Be Fun, They Said

Prompt: Torture

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Rating: M

Summary: Herald Blue Murphy's treachery is discovered, and Joseph Seed cannot let that go unpunished. Thankfully, for Blue, they have a strange ally.

Warnings: Oh boy, this one deserves its warnings. I'm going to give a warning for an unhealthy relationship (Blue and Joseph), torture, and brainwashing. Also, Joseph and Jacob deserve their own warnings for being themselves. TLDR: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.

Words: 2,236 words.

Ship: Herald Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed (Doesn't really last long though.)

Author's Note: First, shoutout to @archetypesinthefog for letting me use Alec again. I hope I did your boy justice! Second, this is a follow up to a previous prompt, not part of Whumptober. You can read it on Tumblr or AO3. It will help this fic make more sense.

AO3

“We need to talk.”

Blue’s stomach sank at those words from Joseph, fearing for the worst. They try to push the concerns out of their mind, only focusing on making their way to John’s Confession Chamber. As they walk through the bunker, Blue notices the averted gazes and muted whispers from members of the Project. What the hell is going on? What if Joseph is hurt? They pick up their pace, entering the chamber. As they enter, Blue notices John, Jacob, Joseph, and Faith all standing behind a Resistance Member bound in a chair. They stop several feet away from the others, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Does someone want to fill me in on the situation?”

Joseph stands behind the Resistance Member, his hands on the Resistance Member’s shoulders. He looks down to the tortured man strapped to their chair, his hands gently squeezing the Resistance Member’s shoulders. “My child, repeat the confession you made to John.”

The Resistance Member looks up at Blue, tears in his eyes. “I-I-I overheard the Deputy talking with Mary May and Jerome about how he escaped from John’s bunker.” Blue’s blood runs cold, eyes widening behind their aviators. Fuck. “He mentioned a Herald, one who used to be a Deputy. The Deputy said that they helped him escaped, that it was their idea to fake the whole thing.”

All eyes are on Blue. Jacob looks vindicated, positively giddy. He looks like he wants to yell ‘I told you so’, that he knew Blue was too soft all along. Faith looks scared, her arms wrapped around her chest. Blue wonders if she is thinking about the previous Faiths and how Blue might end up like them. John looks hurt and angry, his hands twitching. Besides Joseph, Blue was closest with John. No wonder he sees it as a betrayal. Finally, they look to Joseph. In his eyes, they see nothing but a cold harshness. Blue sees nothing of the man they love, and it is breaking their heart.

“I can explain this.” Blue winces at the unsteady tremble in their voice.

“You betrayed us, and you think there is some explanation that could absolve you of this?” John snarls, taking a step towards Blue. His hands twitch, ready to wrap around Blue’s throat.

Joseph holds his hand up, stopping John. “Please.” He gestures for Blue to continue on.

They swallow, their hands shaking. “Every day, more members of the Projects continue to die. I kept thinking what if the next time it was one of you. I just-I couldn’t live with that,’ They look away, taking a moment to compose themself, before continuing, ‘So, I started thinking. What if there was a different way to solve this? Or maybe there was someone else who could put an end to this? I think the Deputy can do that; I think he can stop this without having to kill any of you. Please, I was just trying to protect you.”

Joseph releases the Resistance Member, walking over to Blue. His pace is agonizingly slow as if he is purposely dragging this out. When he reaches them, within touching distance, his hands reach out for their face. Instinctually, Blue steps back, regretting their actions immediately. His blank expression cracks for a moment, a glimpse of something darker bubbles up to the surface. Joseph’s expression quickly returns to something neutral. “I ignored the signs. I did not listen to those who would question your loyalty to the Project, to me,’ He takes a deep breath, eyes focused on Blue, ‘And look what it has made you into? A Herald without faith. My Judas.”

“Joseph, I love you,’ Blue begs, ‘Please, I was just trying to stop all of this.”

He closes his eyes, standing there quietly. Blue wishes he would say something, anything. That he understands why they did this. That he isn’t mad, just disappointed. Joseph opens his eyes again. Turning away from Blue, Joseph speaks to Jacob, “Do you think you would be up for the task of helping Blue become strong, more devoted?”

Fuck no. Blue knows the rumors that surround Jacob. They’ll die before they let anyone take them there. “It would be my pleasure, Joe.” He smiles, relishing Blue’s fear.

“Joseph, you can’t be-“

He cuts them off. “I am. A Father must always discipline his misbehaving children.”

Good old wrath burns within Blue. “Don’t you dare use the disapproving Father bullshit with me,’ They snarl, anger overtaking their fear, ‘I’m not letting Jacob turn me into one of his fucked up soldiers.” Turning on their heel, Blue runs, determined to get the hell out of dodge.

They’re so close. Blue can see freedom when the Bliss drags them under.

--

Blue awakes, strapped to a chair, in some old hotel room. In front of them, on a projector screen, a poorly made PowerPoint plays, images of wolves on each slide. They know that PowerPoint; Jacob was so fucking proud of it when he showed it off. Blue struggles, trying to get out of the damn chair. Fuck.

The door swings open as Jacob enters the room. Pratt follows on his heels, gaze towards the floor. A current of pity runs through them for Pratt. They return their attention to Jacob, glaring fiercely at him. Blue won’t give him the satisfaction of hearing them beg; they’re done begging. Jacob stands in front of them, smiling wolfishly at them. “You know, I always thought you were too weak. Still had too much of an attachment to those outside the project. Joseph never wanted to hear it; He always thought you would be loyal,’ his smile only grows, ‘And it turns out I was right. You betrayed us because you were too weak. Too weak to do what is necessary.”

He stops his monologue, waiting for Blue to say something. They won’t give him anything, only continuing to glare at him silently. Jacob continues on, “I’m going to make you strong. You’re going to cull the herd. You’re going to snuff out the weak,’ He pulls a small music box out of his pocket, ‘You’ll see, and you’re going to become what Joseph needs you to be.”

Jacob opens the music box, the opening notes of ‘Only You’ starting to play. The edges of Blue’s vision turn red, tiny white specks flying around. Rage courses through them, nothing they have ever felt before. And it scares the fucking life out of Blue. They thrash in the chair, screaming something terrible and primal. Train. Hunt. Kill. It repeats in their mind, reverberating in their skull. They squeeze their eyes tightly shut, trying to get it out of their head.

“Open their eyes.” Pratt comes behind, forcing Blue’s eyes open. They continue to scream, trying to fight off Jacob.

Eventually, it’s too much.

--

Jacob tortures them again and again. He runs them through the brainwashing, never satisfied with how much bloodshed they cause. It’s not a matter of when Jacob will break them; it’s a matter of when.

--

Opening the door to one of the hotel rooms, Alec gags, the overwhelming stench of the dead hitting him. Behind him, Sharky gags too. “Man! What did that guy have for breakfast?” He jokes, trying to put them all at ease. This place is fucking creepy, like something out of a horror movie.

Nick shakes his head as Alec laughs. “This place creeps me out. We should get the hell out of here, Deputy,” Nick grumbles.

“We can’t. Colby said that she thinks Jacob might be hiding something special here. Eli trusts her judgement, and so do I. We’ve gotta find whatever the hell Jacob is hiding.” Colby’s hunches are always right.

“If you say so.” Nick replies, shrugging his shoulders.

Alec continues on, opening the door to the next room. As he steps in, his eyes widen at the sight of the figure in the chair. He knows that person. It’s the same Herald, the one who set him free. Good, he thinks. Serves them right for allying with Joseph Seed. Alec isn’t surprised that Joseph turned on them; he thinks Joseph would turn on his own brothers if God commanded it.

Turning to leave, Alec hears a shaky breath behind him. The Herald is still alive. He turns to face them again, gripping his machine gun tightly. Alec could put a bullet in their brain and do Hope County a fucking favor. Jerome’s words echo in his head. “There is still some good in them. They helped you escape. Somewhere, deep down, they must know Joseph is wrong.”

“Shit.” He walks over, kneeling by the barely breathing figure. “Hey,’ Alec says, shaking their shoulder, ‘Are you awake?”

The Herald awakes with a jump, straining against the constraints of the chair. They look around, terrified, before finally realizing who awoke them. The Herald glares at him, trying to look tough instead of pathetic. “Here to kill me, huh? Better do it quickly.” They sound tired, their voice rough. They look like they’ve been through hell. Well, they deserve it.

Immediately, he feels a small speck of pity, but it is quickly washed away when he remembers what kind of monster a Herald is. “Trouble in paradise?” He replies harshly, poking fun at them.

They snort, a smile at the edge of their lips. “Well, turns out Joseph really wasn’t happy when he found out I freed you.”

Alec raises an eyebrow. “How did he figure that out?”

“Turns out the Resistance isn’t too good at keeping things secret. One of your guys talked, and well,’ The Herald motioned to the room around them, ‘I think you can put the rest together.”

It was the Resistance’s fault that they had ended up here. “Did you-?”

“No, I didn’t say anything about Jerome. “

Alec breathes a small sigh of relief. “Deputy, we need to go now! One of the Whitetail Militia lookout squads spotted Jacob and his men a few miles down the road. They’re heading this way.” Nick calls, leaning into the room. Alec looks between Nick and the Herald. He should leave the Herald here, leave them to Jacob. Instead, Alec makes a different choice. Holstering his machine gun, he pulls a knife out, hacking away at their binds. “What are you doing?” Nick asks, incredulous.

“I agree with Nick, Dep. What are you doing?” Sharky glances into the room.

“Paying back a favor.”

The Herald frowns. “You owe me nothing. Your friend is right; you should get the hell out of here.”

Finishing with the last of the binds, Alec helps them out of the chair. They’re too weak to stand, their legs nearly buckling underneath them. He slings their left arm over his shoulder, wrapping his right arm around their waist. “I’m returning a favor,’ He says, moving with the Herald towards the door, ‘What I’m saying is I’m arresting you.”

Smiling, the Herald replies, “I’d never thought I’d say this, but please fucking arrest me.”

The group starts to make their way out of the hotel. Sharky and Nick go first down the stairs, Alec and the Herald following behind them. The Herald nearly trips, swearing as they do. “Can’t that Peggie hurry up?” Nick grumbles as they slowly make their way down the stairs. Outside, the group can hear the distant sounds of Eden Gate.

“We’re trying!” Alec says as the Herald nearly stumbles again, almost collapsing to the ground. The group is almost down the first flight of stairs when they hear the peggies pull in. The group is running out of time, and now, the front entrance is cut off to them. “Nick! Sharky!”

“Don’t worry! We got your back, Dep!” Sharky replies, placing himself between Alec and the front door. The group head out the back, stumbling into the sunlight.

“The Dock! We can grab a boat there!” The Herald points at the Dock unsteadily a few yards away.

“We’ll cover you!” Nick says as he and Sharky watch for peggies. The group is halfway to the docks when the first peggie arrives. Nick blasts him back, the gunfire startingly loud. Immediately, more peggies swarm towards them, weapons at the ready. With a slightly manic smile, Sharky lets his flamethrower rip, hollering in joy.

Alec and the Herald reach the boat, and he dumps them into it. Pulling the cuffs from his belt, Alec slams it around their wrists. The Herald breathes a sigh of relief, and Alec raises an eyebrow. “What? I was afraid you weren’t going to restrain me, and I was going to go all Manchurian Candidate on your ass.” They reply defensively.

He shakes his head, unholstering his machine gun again. Alec sprays a group of peggies coming towards them. “Get to the boat!” Nick and Sharky don’t need any encouragement. The pair run to the boat, jumping in. Gleefully, Sharky grabs the mounted gun on the back as Nick takes control. Alec follows them, knowing Jacob won’t be far behind.

The boat takes off with all four in it as Jacob Seed comes into view. He only watches, becoming a smaller speck until Alec can’t see him anymore. “So, uh, Dep? What are we gonna do with-?” Sharky motions toward the Herald. They sit against the edge of the boat, trying to look tough and unbothered.

Sharky’s right. What the fuck are they going to do with a Herald?

#whumptober2021 #no.12 #torture #far cry 5 #fic #torture tw #brainwashing #unhealthy relationships #joseph seed #fc5 #deputy alec roberts #the deputy #the deputy/joseph seed #kate writes #the blue fic tag #OTP: I had all and then most of you some and now none of you #I hope I did Alec justice #i've never written from his perspective but I hope portrayed him well #maybe I need to turn this into a series lol #blue murphy

[intu-witch-tion]

Assumptions - Chapter 4 {Javier Peña x Female Reader}

Summary: Javier gets in late and accidentally wakes you up. You meet his partner Steve and engage in some unexpected fun before work.

Word Count: 3532

Warnings: Soft!Javier, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, general teasing/taunting, probably other shit.

You were an unusually light sleeper. Especially when you found yourself in a foreign place, despite how comfortable Javier’s bed was. However, you certainly would have much preferred he be lying next to you in it. It must have been close to midnight when you heard a rustling in the bedroom that startled you to waking. The faint glow of the hallway light leaked in through the cracked bedroom door and you wiped your eyes to see a blurred image of Javier fumbling through his nightstand. “Javi?” You mumbled groggily. He closed the drawer, gripping what you believed to be a lighter. “Shit. I tried not to wake you.” He replied softly. “What time is it?” You asked him, propping yourself up on your elbows. Javier sat himself on the edge of the bed, cupping the back of your head in his hand and pulling your forehead to his lips. “Late. Go back to sleep.” He cooed softly.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tug of slumber coaxing you to lay back on the pillow. You gripped his arm as he tried to get up to leave. “Come to bed?” You pleaded softly, too tired to care how pathetic you sounded. His hand fell onto your knee, rubbing it through the thin comforter. “I can’t. I have to review some files before tomorrow.” You could hear it in his voice how badly he wanted to stay with you. “Pleeease?” You whined and he chuckled under his breath, rising from the bed. “Sleep. I’ll be in later.” He pinched your cheek tenderly and left the room, closing the door behind him. You fell asleep easily, somehow more relaxed knowing he was in the other room.

What you assumed to be hours later, you woke suddenly, your arm sliding to the opposite side of the bed to find it still absent of Javier. Your brow scrunched and you crawled out of bed to investigate. When you walked into the living room, you saw Javier sitting on the couch next to a large box of files, sifting through them in a blind focus. You leaned against the wall that led into the living room. You wore one of his shirts, your hair mussed atop your head. The clock on the wall read 3am. His eyes shot up to you as you watched him quietly. He threw you a sleepy grin. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, his voice low and consumed by exhaustion. You folded your arms over your chest, gazing at him through half-lids. “I didn’t think the first night spent in your bed would be without you.”

He grinned down into the file in his hand before closing it, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry, princesa.” He was wiped. You admired the dedication he had for his work. But you hated seeing him so swept up that he deprived himself of sleep. “Are you almost finished?” You simpered affectionately, your tone laced with concern. “Not even close.” He sounded defeated. You blinked at him, a look of pity giving away just how badly you felt for him.

“Come here.” His voice came out soft like velvet, but the command still struck you with the fortitude of steel. Javier adjusted himself on the couch, moving the box onto the side table to make room for you. You perched yourself on the cushion beside him, touching his shoulder gingerly. “Someone’s been rummaging through my dresser.” He remarked teasingly, tugging at the sleeve of the shirt you wore. You sneered at him playfully. “Should I take it off?” He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down and you giggled. “Looks good on you.” He finally said, curling one of his fingers over a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

You yawned and he patted his thigh, signaling for you to put your head in his lap. You settled into a comfortable position, the feeling of his soft pants brushing your cheek. He proceeded to open the file and continued his reading. Your eyes shuttered closed as his other hand caressed your shoulder gently and over your hair. You dozed off with ease beneath his mindless yet tender ministrations.

Hours later…

The morning light crept through the windows of the living room. You slept soundly in Javier’s lap, who had succumbed to sleep himself, his head drooped along the back of the couch, the file hanging limp in his hand. A knock at the door startled you both to consciousness. Javier jumped and your eyes shot open at the sudden movement. He looked at his watch, cursing under his breath. You sat up, curling against the arm of the couch. Javier made his way to the door, peering through the peep hole. “Goddamn it.” He groaned. “Who is it?” Your voice cracked sleepily. “My partner.” He grumbled.

A voice boomed from the other side of the door. “Javi—open the fuckin’ door.” Javier flattened the hair on his head in a futile attempt to look presentable. “Give me a goddamn second—” He replied, fussing over his untucked shirt, finally deciding it just didn’t matter. You took this opportunity to get off the couch, and made your way to the bedroom to change.

Javier opened the door and a blonde-haired man walked in presumptively. “Where the hell have you been?” Javier rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “I, uh. I overslept.” Steve rolled his eyes and shot Javi a disbelieving look. “Since when?” He retaliated. Javier was not one to be late for anything, so his partner knew better than to believe such a weak excuse. “That girl is here, isn’t she?” He accused without qualm. Javier fidgeted with the pockets of his pants and replied too fast to be convincing. “What? No. What girl?” Steve rolled his eyes, walking over to the box of files on the side table and pulling one randomly. “Give me a fuckin’ break, man. The one you won’t shut up about.” He said dismissively into the file. Javier cleared his throat awkwardly as he sees you emerge from the bedroom and down the hall.  

You were back in your own clothes, hair tidy and face clean. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extended your hand politely to the stranger. He shook your hand firmly. “Steve Murphy.” He looked to Javier with a smirk. You interrupted the exchange. “Javi, why don’t you make some coffee?” You suggested, knowing he would likely welcome the distraction. “Yeah.” Javi replied, a contemptuous edge to his voice. Steve grinned, impressed by your poise and your ability to give Javier direction that he took without question.

You found a seat at the small kitchen table, and Steve joined you. He hunched casually in the chair as Javier knocked around the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee. You watched him for a moment, your mind flashing to the escapades from the night before. The kitchen counter was still stained with the evidence of you.

“So, you’re the mystery girl.” Steve interrupted, his tone taunting towards Javier. “Mystery girl?” You looked over at him and he looked at you. Javier was shaking his head, grumbling under his breath. These two were like brothers and it was clear that Steve was hellbent on embarrassing Javier. You figured you would play along. “Oh yeah. Javi was up in arms after he met you that first night.” You tilted your head with a smirk. “Really? How so?” You inquired, your inflection curling upwards like the final note of a song. Steve smiled wide, excited that you were happy to play along. He continued. “Told me he met some woman at the bar. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about her.” He smirked over at Javi whose back was turned to him. He mulled over the coffee maker buttons longer than deemed necessary. “Aww. How sweet.” You bemused, your voice still ringing in that same sing-song tone. “Yeah. Javier is the sweetest, isn’t he?” Steve crooned sarcastically and you both stifled laughter. Javier folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter and scowling at the both of you. The coffee pot beeped, announcing a fresh brew. Javier made himself a cup and added tersely, “If either of you assholes want coffee you can get it yourselves.”

You and Steve continued snickering and Javier’s glared burned into his mug. “Whatever.” He groused and made his way back to the box of files in the living room. You pursed your lips in amusement, sharing a jovial smile with Steve. You got up and poured you both a cup, sliding his across the table. Javier stewed over a folio as he sat on the couch. You moseyed into the living room, stopping when your toes touched his. “Javiiiii?” You rang sweetly. His eyes never left the page, working hard to ignore you. You smirked and tried again. “Jaaaviiiiiii?” He didn’t flinch. You took a seat next to him, kissing his cheek delicately before whispering in his ear, “Have I overstayed my welcome yet?” You could see an amused grin sneak across his face. His eyes still glued to the folder before him, he finally spoke. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You chuckled, dropping your head onto his shoulder as Steve walked into the living room, sitting in an armchair and pulling a file from the box. They discussed the details of a photo until Steve finished his cup of coffee. He stood with a stretch. “Alright. I’m heading to the station. I’ll see you there?” Steve eyed Javier sharply and shot you a playful glimpse. You grinned along the edge of your coffee mug in response. Javier let out a hard and irritable sigh. “Yes. For fuck’s sake. I’ll be there.” Steve left with a chuckle under his breath, calling over his shoulder before opening the door, “Nice to meet you, Y/N!”

After a moment, you shrugged lackadaisically and said, “I like him.” Javier turned to you, giving you the most admonishing look. He tossed the file to the floor, putting your coffee mugs on the table, and quickly pinning you to the couch. You giggled, looking up into his eyes, which burned with mischief. “I thought you were heading to the station.” You reminded him. He threw you a determined leer. “Not before I punish you first.” His fingers found your sides, tickling you in a fervent effort that made you squeal suddenly. You laughed until you could barely breathe, and you tried to squirm from underneath him. He was unrelenting but your wriggling finally freed you as you rolled from beneath him and onto the floor.

You made a break for it, clambering on all fours for an instant as you raced towards the kitchen and down the hall. Javier smirked as he watched you turn the corner towards the bedroom, his own pace only breaching slightly past a leisurely stroll as he followed. When he darkened the doorway, he found you laying on the bed. Naked. Javier raised an eyebrow, eying you up and down hungrily. “Well, this is a problem.” He stated suddenly. It was not at all what you were expecting, and you felt a bit out of place for a moment. “What??” You questioned. He slowly stepped closer to the edge of the bed. His eyes were locked on you like a tiger stalking its prey. “You were right. You definitely look lonely in that bed without me.” You cocked your head to the side with a smirk. You liked where this was going. “I tried to tell you.” You replied in good humor with a brief pause before continuing, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Leaving me in here all alone last night.” You pouted.

His face twisted into a gentle frown of faux sympathy. He loosened the buttons on his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor and crawling into the bed on top of you. He lowered himself, leaning into your ear, peppering kisses across your neck. His words breezed against your skin, causing goose bumps to rise. “I am very ashamed.” He caressed, looking down into your eyes, his lips barely brushing your own. “Will you ever forgive me?” he lingered so closely you could almost taste his words. “That depends.” You contributed, trying your best to maintain some self-control. His kisses trailed along your cheek and down to your chin. “On what, princesa?” He mumbled, the question getting lost as he doted over you. You stifled a wanton moan. “How you plan to make it up to me.” You said with a sensuous lilt in your voice. He let out a silent chuckle, the only evidence of his laughter being the wisp of air rushing from his nose and against your neck. “Mmm. I’ll come up with something.” He reassured and you did not doubt him for a moment. Truth be told, he was already doing a damn good job.

Javi’s hands began to peruse over you slowly, dripping down your sides and over your thighs. It was agonizing how he took his time and you were beginning to squirm, dying for more. He smirked at your impatience, but his pace did not hasten. His palm searched over the peak between your legs and he painted his fingers against your bare mound. You shivered and writhed fluidly beneath him, in a vain attempt to stave some of the tension in your body. You groaned, opening your eyes to look at him. He was sure he could watch this forever, studying you like an oil painting. His body betrayed him as you felt his rock-hard cock dangle against your thigh, indicating he was not as cool and collected as he outwardly appeared. You smiled in satisfaction, pulling your knee tight against his crotch to feel it more intimately. He flung his hand to your thigh, gripping tightly to stop your taunting. “Behave, princesa.” He chided and you bit your lip in mute triumph. You gasped as his powerful fingers dug into your flesh, rougher than he intended. He loosened his grip instinctually. You wouldn’t tell him how much you liked it.

Your lips curled into a smile, fingers ghosting along his bare hip. You couldn’t help but to look down at the swollen cock between his legs and you moaned at the sight of it. A trace of a smile flittered across his lips at your hunger for what he had to give to you. His olive skin gleamed in the late morning sun that filtered through the drapes and he watched your eyes follow the contours of his form. You didn’t consider yourself to be a vain person, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy nice things. And you certainly appreciated the way his body flexed for you. Your tongue darted over your lips in an involuntary motion as you imagined tracing the lines of his abdomen with your tongue. You marveled at him and the muscles in his arms rippling as you undulated under him in blatant invitation. His lips landed on your stomach and you shuddered in surprise. He moved down, kisses dappling your legs until reaching your feet. He lifted an ankle and kissed the skin there before letting it fall back onto the bed. You watched him, wordless and with shallow breath.

He spread your legs gently and the positioning, the idea of it, made him groan. You pinched your lips together, almost embarrassed at how he admired you so unashamedly. You parted your legs for him a little more, shattering him entirely. Javier reached forward, grabbing you by the waist with both hands and pulling you across the bed and closer to him. He grasped your breast with a firm hand, and you gifted him with a delicate cry. He crouched on all fours, crawling over you, bending to kiss your neck. He bit you ardently as he continued to squeeze your breast. His lips devoured your soft flesh and he studied the skin with the devotion of a young lover as a crescent shaped mark rose to the surface of your flesh.

You watched the satisfaction form on his face. He was not subtle. He moved away from you again to the bottom of the bed and you whimpered as he fell out of reach. But you risked losing control as his hands slid up the inside of your legs, the tips of his fingers tickling the throbbing lips of your cunt. You knew that he would feel now how much you truly wanted him. “Fuck,” is the only word he could manage as he moved his fingers in small, examining circles. He pressed them hard against you and your breathing hummed with the timing of his movements. You lifted your hips in silent encouragement.

A moan of sheer pleasure erupted from the back of your throat and he dipped his head down to kiss your thighs before sinking his mouth over that bundle of nerves that yielded the sweetest harvest he had ever tasted. The room swallowed your moans as you closed your legs around his head. You knotted your fingers into his dark hair, pulling his face further into you. He moaned as he licked and sucked and kissed his way against you, driven by the need to pleasure you. He could feel your body begin to contract, your hips lifting as you cried his name into the red heat of the room and was rewarded with your final pleasure and the hiss of ‘Javi’ on your lips. You seemed to melt into the mattress, breathing heavy, lips parted, eyes closed, your legs spread before him in such a submissive way he could feel himself grow even more.

A slight blush of pleasure dashed over your cheeks and he knew that he had succeeded. “I want you.” You muttered suddenly, and without delay, he forced himself into you with all his might. You gasped in pain as you tightened around him and he groaned in pleasure in due response. You wrapped your legs around his waist, arching into him with whimpers of encouragement. He heaved a grunt with every thrust, admiring the lust etched on your face. “Does that feel good, princesa?” He asked between his thrusts. You pinched your eyes shut and nodded with a moan and he drove his hips up at an angle, causing you to writhe in ecstasy. “Right here? Is that it, baby doll?” He asked you as he continued his driving, bottoming out at that delicious slant that sent your head reeling. You nodded feverishly with a heated moan and he drilled harder as you cried out his name again.

He leaned down, consuming your pleasured cries into his mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, which left you demanding more kisses as he gripped the bed, knuckles white and bloodless. He pulled from you slightly, and you licked his chin and kissed his neck and anything else you could reach with your mouth as he became more focused on the passionate pumping of his own hips. Repositioning himself, he gripped at the pillows on either side of your head, trying to steady himself over you. “Javier—” You started, and before you could complete your declaration of desire, your body began to contract again, and the success of his work drove him almost to the brink. But he was very skilled in this area, and not until your third release did he finally give in to his own blinding oblivion, pumping you full of his seed and stopping to let you feel each throb and pulse as he filled you up. His head landed on your outstretched arm as he panted over you before rolling off to the side of the bed, leaving you a dripping and resplendent mess of his aftermath.

In true Javier fashion, only after a few labored breaths, he reached over and lit a cigarette. He took his first drag, the action so thoughtful it was as though he were writing in a journal of his recent conquest over you. You watched him, curling up on your side and dragging your finger down his hip, now damp with sweat. “I’ve got to get to the station, sweet thing.” He announced, his tone reluctant but resigned. You sighed. “I should get going too.” Javier looked down at you, as if to will from you some further explanation. You sat up in the bed, gathering your clothes and beginning to dress. “You’re welcome to pay me a visit when you’re done with work.” You said as you pulled your skirt around your waist. You walked over to his side of the bed, scribbling your number down on the pad that sat next to the rotary phone. “Call me later?”

Javier was pulling his pants on when you handed him the paper. He took it from you, the look in his eyes warm yet somehow still bearing a resemblance of danger. He stuffed the note into his back pocket. “Yes ma’am.” He said, winking at you with a fox-like grin. You called a cab that took you home, where you would wait for his phone call on bated breath.

Chapter 5*

Taglist: @lv7867​​​ @klaine-92​​​ @rocketqueen​​​ @bounty-in-the-eye-of-the-mando​​​ @mrsparknuts​​​ @sarahjkl82-blog​​​ @beltzboys2015-blog​​​ @makingloveout​

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x female reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[drakewalkerfantasy]

The art of seduction. (Tatum x MC)

Summary: When Tatum saw her in the pretty gown she wore for the state dinner he could do nothing else but imagine his best friend in his embrace. His old feelings quickly surfaced. And as much as it would be fun to give up to her seduction, he could do nothing else but try to resist her. Can he do this? Or will he fail trying?

Words: 1893

Authors notes: I really hope you will enjoy this. I left space for part that will be more NSFW.

**Warnings: tiny bitsy suggestive language and a bit of swearing. Also sensual, so I would say 17+**

With the finale glance in the full-length mirror Claire finally made her way out of the bedroom. Her eyes instantly finding Tatum’s, feeling how the air leaving her lungs with the strenght of the wrecked train, when she sees his gaze fixed on her. His intense eyes roaming subtly over her body clad in the silvery grey backless dress with the cut ending just below her hipbone. His eyes stoping there just for a split second before snapping back to hers, and she could swear that she caught a glimpse of a blush colouring his cheeks.

“That good, huh?” She asked. Her lips curving in a knowing smirk watching Tatum to clear his throat before giving her a reply. Reply that instantly wiped the smile from her face, making her eyes widen and her cheeks flush.

“Let’s just say... what I’m thinking isn’t part of my job description,” murmured he in a low husky whisper that send an immediate shiver down her spine, making her pulse speed up, and her eyes darken.

And oh my God, the thoughts he thought... These little dirty thoughts about his best friend's body pressed firmly to his. His hand slipping through the cut in her dress, wandering higher. His fingers fluttering along the edges of her suspender belt that he caught a glimpse of when she saunter out of her bedroom. The other hand woven in her hair letting them fall down her back, while his lips hungrily claimed hers. His tongue...

Shit... he swore under his breath snapping back to reality. Feeling ashamed of how instantly his body reacted to her, straining against the fly of his trousers. And shit it was, when he caught a glimpse of a knowing smile spreading Claire’s lips. That knowing smile that he knew far too well did not bode anything good. The smile that he knew will test him to the limit. Cracking his facade of indifference. Breaking the mask, he so hard tried to protect. And the next step she took undoubtedly confirmed his suspicions.

Her hand with calculated precision brushed against his. Her fingertips ran against his pulse point sending it in overdrive. Her eyes hooded under her black thick eyelashes, shining with mirth like two black sapphires when they met his. Her lips parted, while the tip of her tongue flitted over them, making him almost moan with desire. And her deliciously hot breath brushed the rim of his ear when she passed by. His legs buckled almost bringing him to his knees. The low husky whisper still ringing in his ear sending the cold shiver up his spine.

“Eyes front, soldier,” she murmured only for him to hear. The tips of her fingers pressed firmer to the pulse on his wrist, brushing them lightly over it before stepping aside. The floral perfume she was wearing leaving the sweet teasing trail behind her.

For everyone else it looked like a simple accident. Like she only passed by him. But he knew better, and he only could pray to be strong enough to resist her act of seduction.

He could hear her walk out the door after Murphy and Dionne. Her heels clicked on the floor, fading in the distance, when he finally let out the breath he even didn’t realised he was holding. His body still vibrating from how close she stood to him. His pulse still quickened from the way her fingertips ran over it with featherlight calculated touch. And his legs still rooted to the place, while he turned his head to watch after Claire’s retreating figure, forcing himself to move after her. It took him only a few strides to catch up with her, slowing his pace and walking next to her. His mind racing, still focused on the moment they had just a seconds before. The moment when every cell in his body was vibrating from the feel of her body heat. But even with his mind racing, his sharp trained eyes now and then still slipped to look at her, noticing everything she wanted him to notice. Her hips swinged sensually, just enough to make his blood boil, but not enough to someone else to notice. Her chest rising and falling with every step she took. And every time when her lips parted, he could see the tip of her tongue running over her peach glossed lips with exhale. And when she turned her head finally meeting his intense gaze, he didn’t missed how her pulse picked up the speed and her pupils dilated. His lips quirking in the satisfying smirk noting, that he has no less impact on her than she had on him.

“Game on, babe,” he thought before leading her toward the private plane. The stoic mask once again put on his face.

The flight to the Kingdom of Pavadena was a nightmare. The nightmare he wasn’t sure how he survived or didn’t drag Claire to the nearest bathroom. He was dreaming to turn her around to face him. Dreaming to push her to the door, to press his lips to hers and to demand for them to open, while his tongue would slip inside swirling around hers and deepening the kiss. Kissing her hungrily as he dreamed of doing so many years ago... in another life. The picture of this still pulsing violently in his mind, while his hands gripped the handrests firmer, when the most alluring sound in the world slipped past, making him freeze. His eyes dilated becoming a shade darker. His nails dug into the cold leather of the seat and his teeth grind, while he desperately tried to keep calm. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see how she dip the piece of strawberry, as red and no doubt as delicious as her lips, into the whipped cream. Her tongue slowly darting in between of her parted lips, swirling it deliberately slowly around the tip, making Tatum almost growl shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Her lips wrapping around it with a moan, and her eyes closing before she finally swallowed the berry. It took everything in Tatum not to look at her, and not to meet her eyes. Stubbornly refusing her a satisfaction of seeing, what she was doing to him. And when he felt her gentle touch to his hand, it was as if a naked electricity wire hit him.

He thought that it will get better when he and Murphy were send to the back room to join other bodyguards. That finally he will be able to breathe. And yes it was... at first... and only for a little bit until the moment Claire joined them. And what a torture it became, when she did. Her bare hip brushing against his tigh. Staying pressed to him just for a second too long for it to be just an accident. Making him grow bigger and harder than he ever was. Her eyes meeting his, reading him as an opened book. Smiling at him with this smug smile, while she called his bluff, knowing quite well that she won this round. As if knowing that she didn’t just won a game, but also his heart. The fact that he would deny if confronted. The fact he must deny to protect her from her own mother. But oh well, if she didn't make it so difficult to do... so incredibly hard to resist her. Making his task a torture. A torture so much worse that the ones that were brought on him by the terrors of war.

His hand involuntarily dropped to his hip touching the place where her hip was pressed just a moment ago. The place that burned not only from her touch but also with a memory of the hot rod digging into his flesh.

He was suddenly pulled out from his thoughts to the present by the whiff of her floral perfume, and he could almost feel the heat that was radiating from her body when she moved closer to him. Her voice barely a whisper only for him to hear, accommodated by the ghost of the touch only for him to feel.

“Walk with me?” she uttered. Her voice almost a plea and he felt himself nod obediently despite knowing that this was a huge mistake and a trap he went into willingly. Only hoping that the sheer will of his would be enough this time to not give up to her wiles and to be able to keep his stoic demeanour.

They went in a silence for some time, the only sound that broke it was the sound of their synced breathing. Her body so close to his, that he could feel hers with every cell of his own body. Their hands brushing and their fingers unknowingly to each other aching to be interlaced together. Their eyes secretly following each other's movements, when they thought they wasn’t watched, longing and wanting to be closer. But knowing how impossible this wish was. Impossible... and ridiculous. Knowing that she is only his best childhood friend he was dreaming about for so long. Knowing that she would never see him another way with abyss of difference between them. Not knowing why she would play this game of seduction, while her heart wasn't in it. 

Soon they finally stopped at the dead end of the long hallway, where the lamps weren't as bright and the noice of the party was only a distant whisper. She slowly turned to him watching around before stepping closer, making his heart leap in his chest and his breath hitch. She lean in closer, giving him a chance to step back, letting him to bid her goodbye before going back to the back room, but he didn’t. As if rooted to the spot he could feel her body lean into his. Her hand squeezing his before she tip toe toward him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. His hands involuntarily drop to her waist. His fingers brushing the edges of her bare back sending the current of electricity through her body, while her lips grazing lower pressing to the corner of his lips in a lingering kiss before stepping back. Her lips curving in the soft smile, while her cheeks flame, feeling shy for the first time this evening. Her heart rate peaking up, watching as Tatum flushed, raising a hand to cover the spot Claire’s lips were just a moment ago. Their eyes finally meet with so much emotions and their bodies vibrating from the longing for each other that was held back all these long and lonely years. His hands balling into fists trying to suppress the urge to grab her by her hips and pull her toward him. Trying to suppress the desire to kiss her hard on the lips. 

He held her gaze for a moment longer, the torment and desire clearly blazing in their eyes, but after a moment Claire reluctantly started to walk away. Her heart thundering treacherously with every step she took. Her hips swaying, making him watch her every move, making him throb in a confines of his trousers. Making him to want to run after her, to claim her lips, to claim her as his. The fantasy he would never be able to fulfill. The fantasy that will always stay only that... the fantasy.

Tagging: @jamespotterthefirst​ @choices-bound​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @openheartthot​ @ramseysrookiex​ @shaylan211 @annekebbphotography​

#tatum mendoza #tatum x mc #choices fanfiction #foreignaffairs #choices foreign affairs

[nyotamalfoy]

“Unexpected.” - Part 1 Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader

Requested by @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby

Summary: (Y/N) gets a chance to go to the sets of her favourite series, Peaky Blinders, but the day doesn’t go as planned. 

Warning: mention of death

Part 2 can be found here

‘It’s just a birthday, he’s a busy man. He’ll come by later, I guess…’  (Y/N) tried to console herself as her uncle, Neil, hadn’t come to visit her on her birthday like he did every year.   

Neil was her closest and only family after her parents died in a plane crash. She could always rely on him and talk to him about anything and everything. He was (Y/N)’s best friend. But, he was a costume designer and therefore, a very busy man. Neil had told her in a recent phone call that he wouldn’t be able to make it for her birthday because of work. Speaking of work, he had been hired as the costume designer for her favourite Netflix series of all times, Peaky Blinders.   

(Y/N) had been ecstatic when she found out and almost begged him to let her come to the sets with him. She loved the cast and wanted a chance to meet them. In particular, she wanted to meet Cillian Murphy. She had been his fan since she saw him on Batman Begins. Actually, that would be an understatement, she was basically in love with him and had accepted the fact that it was just a celebrity crush which she could do nothing about.   

Coming back to the point, (Y/N) was a bit sad when Neil said he couldn’t make it but was hurt when he didn’t even call. It wasn’t like him to miss her birthday.  As she was laying on her bed, tired after a chaotic day of celebrating her turning a year older, she heard a creak from outside her room.   

She shot up straight and got out of her bed, walking towards her door, grabbing one of her textbooks from her study table to use as a weapon on the way – great choice, (Y/N). A textbook? Seriously?   

Opening her door as quietly as she could, she stepped out into the hallway, trembling, with the textbook held above her shoulder, ready to strike someone.  

(Y/N) gasped as she felt someone poke her shoulder from behind and turned around, smashing the bundle of maths problems on the side of their face.   

“Ah!” She heard a familiar voice wince as she fumbled around for the switch to turn on the lights.  

“Uncle Neil?” (Y/N) called out, looking at him in surprise as the lights came on. “You scared me to death, you prat!” She grinned, walked up to him and slapped his upper arm before hugging him.   

“Why a textbook, though?” He said, rubbing the side of his face as they pulled away. “A bloody heavy one too.” She felt a bit guilty, but he was the one that snuck in her house, so she laughed at his expense.  

They both laughed and talked for a while, having walked into the kitchen, sitting on the barstools with cups of coffee and biscuits in front of them. He still hadn’t wished her ‘happy birthday’ but she let that slide knowing he was a bit absent minded at times and meant no ill-will. Just as she thought this, he suddenly stopped speaking and his eyes widened as he looked at her.  “I almost forgot!” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a lanyard with an ID card attached. “Happy birthday!”   

“Finally! I was beginning to think that you actually forgot.” She took the lanyard and hugged him saying a quiet but excited ‘thank you’ before sitting back.  

(Y/N) looked at the lanyard confusedly at first but when she turned the ID card, her eyes widened as she read the words written on it, and she froze. She read it, then read it again just to confirm. On it, it said in bold print letters:  

VISITOR’S PASS - PEAKY BLINDERS  

“AHHHH!” She screamed in excitement and hugged a laughing Neil with such force that he would have definitely fallen if he was still sitting on the bar stool.    

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“Do I look okay?”   

“You look gorgeous, (Y/N). Let’s go now, we don’t want to be late now do we.” Neil urged her to get out of the house but couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he saw her skipping down the driveway in excitement.   

After three hours of driving and Neil answering (Y/N)’s questions about the set and cast and everything in between, they finally reached.   

“Let’s go!” (Y/N) pulled Neil to the entrance as they got out of the car. The guard standing in front of the door checked their identification and smiled when he saw (Y/N) grinning, flashing her visitor pass to him. Neil chuckled as he led her down to the sets. 

He dropped off his gear in the room assigned to him and checked the time.   

“Okay, they’ll be coming in any minute now,” Neil started and went on to tell her of all the rules and things she needed to take care of. She listened obediently even though she could barely contain her excitement.   

Some minutes later, the actors and actresses arrived in short intervals of each other.   

“Oh, hello! Who’s this pretty lady, Neil?”   

“Helen, meet (Y/N), my niece, and (Y/N), this is-” Neil was cut off by (Y/N).  

“Helen McCrory, I know, I’m a big fan, ma’am!” (Y/N) gushed about everything she loved about her acting without sounding too creepy or cringy and Neil was thankful for her staying composed and not jumping on her.  

Helen found, for whatever reason, she was enjoying talking to (Y/N). They talked for a while before being interrupted by the Cole brothers. They were slowly joined by almost all the cast members including Paul and Tom but not Cillian, all of whom had taken a liking to (Y/N) immediately due to her friendly and excited demeanour. Neil watched on in amazement at how she managed to win all their hearts in less than 20 minutes and that thought couldn’t keep a smile off his face.  

“What’s going on here?” A voice (Y/N) knew all too well made an appearance. She snapped her head to the source of the voice and froze. She was standing in the same vicinity of the man she had the biggest crush on, the one and only Cillian Murphy.   

“Neil was just introducing his lovely niece here.” Sophie gestured to (Y/N) and smiled at her.   

“We have work to do so can we focus on that, please.” As Cillian said this, he had an annoyed and frustrated expression on his face. “We don’t have time for visitors right now.”  

The cast members looked at each other in surprise because Cillian never acted this way; he was always the nicest, most kind person on the set.   

After (Y/N)’s initial shock dissipated, she had the biggest of smiles on her faces which was now tinged with hurt, hearing Cillian say that. The cast surrounding her looked at her and gave her sympathetic smiles, some hugs and promises to meet after shoot as they started walking away.  

“You should leave before you break something or ruin a scene,” Cillian said before walking ahead of the everyone who had turned to look at them when they saw him approach (Y/N).   

Everyone was shocked, to say the least. They could clearly see that something was troubling him but they sure as hell didn’t appreciate the way he was treating their new-found friend. Looking at (Y/N), they could see the hurt in her expression clearly with the way she was looking down, lips trembling.  

(Y/N) had never felt such a sharp pain in her heart as she did now. Cillian’s words had cut through her like a hot knife, leaving her with no choice but to go as far away from him as possible.   

So, once everyone had left to continue on with their work, with a heavy heart and tears threatening to fill her eyes, she ran. She left the sets and kept running until she felt sudden stabbing pain in her leg.   

Great, this day is just going so well. She thought to herself as she sat on a nearby bench and pulled the sharp stone out of her sole which had pierced through her sandals, leaving her foot bloody. Her tears fell then, like white hot metal down her face.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Neil felt like it was all his fault; he was the one that brought her here with the promise of her meeting her crush. He never would have imagined that Cillian would act the way he did. He went to his room on the sets, hoping to find (Y/N) there so he could speak to her.   

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Neil knocked on the door before opening it. He looked around for the familiar head of (Y/H/C) hair but dread filled him when he didn’t see anyone. Picking up his mobile phone, he dialled her number and a bit of relief touched him when he heard her familiar ringtone somewhere around the sets.   

He walked out to where everyone else had gathered and looked around for (Y/N). His hopes quickly vanished when he saw her bag on the floor near a wall in which her phone was ringing.  

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)?” Neil asked the cast members as they all turned to look at him with concerned expressions.  

“Wasn’t she with you?” Helen inquired as she too looked around hoping to see a glimpse of her.  

“No, she ran off. I thought she’d go to my room but there’s no one there.” Neil ran a hand through his hair, guilt coursing through his veins.   

They asked the guard at the gate if he had seen (Y/N) and he told them that she had ran out about 2 hours ago.  

As everyone spread out, some by foot, some by cars and bikes, Cillian was left alone with his thoughts.   

Earlier that day, he’d gotten into a bad fight with his brother over some family issue. Then, he had to deal with idiots in the traffic while driving to the sets. Lastly, he had spilt his much-needed coffee on himself meaning that he had to go back home, change, buy another coffee and then come onto the set 20 minutes late. He’d had a very testing day but his patience broke when the producer met him at the entrance and told him off for being late to the set.  

To add fuel to the fire, no one was even ready to shoot as they were all standing around someone happily chatting away. He snapped then. Telling off an unsuspecting fan, his good friend Neil’s cousin at that.   

Cillian was almost 100% sure that he was the one that scared her away with his rude behaviour and that killed him as he realised this. She had looked so happy with that big grin on her face that he had successfully managed to wipe off with a few hurtful words.   

He put his face in his hands as he sat on his chair. Cillian only had one string of thoughts going around his mind: This is my fault. I have to find her and apologise. She didn’t deserve this.

#cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders cast x reader #cillian murphy #fem!reader #tommy shelby

[forever-rogue]

Disappear Here - 1/4

A/N: So, I’ve decided to turn this into a little series because I have no sense of brevity, and why not? So here’s part 1, which I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is welcome! xx

Based on this blurb

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ALTERNATIVE ENDING

SEQUEL

»»————-　♡　————-«« 

One Year Ago

You felt your eyes growing heavy as you tried  to follow along to the late night rerun of a telenovela that was currently playing on one of the local channels. It was the only thing that was illuminating the small living room, everything else was bathed in darkness, much like your heart at the moment. You’d been sitting there for some time, ever since you’d gotten home from the embassy, in a vain attempt to keep your mind occupied. If you tried to focus all your energy into trying to keep up with the rapid Spanish, maybe no dark thoughts would impede the light buzz that was flowing through your veins . 

The empty wine bottle on the coffee table was supposed to help aid in your plan to chase away all the negative thoughts there were creeping in at the idea of Javier still being gone. He was supposed to be back today, supposed to be back in the office along with Steve, but neither of them had returned. It had been nothing but radio silence from their end.

Instead, you’d spent the day performing all sorts of menial tasks around the office, waiting for either of your partners to bursting in through the door and announcing their triumphant return. 

But it never came. 

Instead you were only met with silence, the only sounds that met your ears were those of people passing by in the hallway and someone occasionally popping their head in to say hello. Your face lit up every time, thinking maybe you’d get a glimpse of Peña’s smirk or Murphy’s soft smile; instead it was just another coworker whose name you didn’t know, or care to know. 

By midday, you’d gotten the entire shared office space clean and organized, going so far as to even clean the dingy windows, and caught up on paperwork that you’d been avoiding for weeks. 

But even after all that, you still had time to spare.

When you couldn’t take the deafening silence any longer, you stormed out of the much too quiet office and stormed into Ambassador’s Noonan’s office, not even bothering to knock, only throwing the door open as you walked to the front of her desk. She barely lifted her eyes from the papers splayed across her desk as you stood in front her, your arms crossed definitely over your chest. 

“Agent L/N,” it was almost mocking, cold, and you could see she really wasn’t too keen on listening to any problem that you were about to present her with. There were days when you hated her, wishing you could jump over the desk dividing you and wringing sense into her; other days you were glad that she was around, knowing that no matter how harsh and stern she was, she had your backs...more or less.

“Murphy and Peña aren’t back yet,” you didn’t bother to waste time with formalities, deciding to lay the facts on her instead, “they were supposed to be back in the office today. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”

“I’m well aware that they were supposed to be back,” she flicked her eyes up to meet yours for a moment before turning back to her papers, “and just what is the issue?”

“They’re missing!”

“No one is considered missing for at least forty-eight hours,” she explained as you openly groaned. You knew that. But they weren’t just any sort of civilians, they were DEA agents, and more importantly, your partners, your friends, “and they technically still have several hours left in the work day to return before the clock starts ticking.”

“You don’t understand -”

“No, you don’t understand, L/N,” she barked and slammed the papers down on her desk, causing you to jump back in surprise, “this is how things work sometimes. This is a dangerous field, there are risks involved and sometimes you just have to accept that. You have to be all in to do this job, and I expect that even a rookie such as yourself understands that.”

“I-...”

“I get you want to do the right thing and you’re concerned with the welfare of your partners, but you have to learn to get over these types of things,” you were rendered speechless, taking a step back at her harsh words. You knew this was a dangerous job, that going after Escobar was an almost certain deathwish, but you had still agreed to do it, and you still wanted to hold onto some sense of humanity, not just be a cold shell that went through the motions every day. Maybe that was the rookie part of you after all, “perhaps you’d do well to remember that Murphy and Peña are just your partners. Especially Peña; I am not immune to the rumors and follies that float around in this office. And if you can’t remember that, maybe you’d best start looking for another job.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador-”

“This conversation is over,” she didn’t bother to spare a final glance before gathering her papers back together, “come back and see me in a few days if they still aren’t back, and then we’ll take the next steps. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling them prick at the back of your eyes as you rushed out of her office. You knew she was right, at least to a certain extent, but it didn’t make your current predicament any easier. 

At this point you were sure that you couldn’t handle staying in the office any longer, so you grabbed your stuff and headed home, stopping by a corner market to pick up cheap wine to keep you company for the evening. It was better than being stuck all alone with only your thoughts after all; having flashes of Pena and Murphy somehow getting killed was starting to drive you crazy. 

But despite your best efforts, nothing held your attention for long, which was precisely why you had resorted to watching programs in Spanish, trying your best to follow along with what they were saying. Spanish wasn’t your strong suit, you’d grasped the basics and then some, all the slang and curses of course (the latter part mostly thanks to Javier), and could hold a conversation well enough, but it was nothing compared to Javier’s natural fluency. Even if you looked like you might somehow actually belong in Columbia, your accent and lack of comprehension gave you away every time, as you stared at the person with your big wide doe eyes (that little comment was courtesy of Murphy). Javier enjoyed teasing you about it every time. You didn’t mind.

You sighed to yourself as you realized that you might never see him again. Your last interaction with him had hardly been a proper goodbye

“I can’t believe you told that witch to keep me away from this,” you glared at Javier as he started to gather supplies, Murphy closely following behind him. When he didn’t respond, you just shoved his chest, which quickly got his attention. He easily captured your wrists in his large hands and gave you a stern look, “you’re an asshole, Javi. Even Carrillo thinks I can handle myself just find out in the field.”

“I don’t give a shit what Carrillo thinks,” his voice was low, signaling the end of conversation as he released you from his strong grip. You looked over at Murphy, who was busy intently pretending not to be listening to your exchange. He was going to be of no help to you.

“Well I do,” you were just trying to get a rouse out of him; if he wasn’t going to let you come, you might as well annoy him, “Carrillo is a better everything than you could ever wish to be.”

“You think so, huh?” you’d gotten under skin, you could immediately tell by the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed, and the almost growl he adopted. You put your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised as you just nodded at him, “listen here, kid. This is dangerous. You think you know what to expect out there, you think you know what’s it like out there? You haven’t even seen a dead body, have you? You really think you could go out there and handle that?”

“This is my job-”

“You’re still green,” he insisted, “and this is not the time or place for you to suddenly decide to be the hero. I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you insisted, the way his voice had softened with his last words not lost on you, “I can handle myself.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he sighed heavily as he exchanged a look with Murphy, “you’re staying here and that is final. And if I hear even the slightest hint of you trying to weasel your way in from anyone else, I’ll have your ass on the first flight back to the States.”

“I’m insufferable?” you threw up your hands in exasperation at him. He was so thick skulled and stubborn sometimes, it drove you up the wall, “what about you, old man? Scared of what will happen if I get there and make you look bad?”

“I have it had it up to here-”

“Will the two of you just shut up already?” Murphy had finally had enough of the two bickering back and forth. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence by any means, no, the two of you were constantly up in arms. Sometimes it was over the who made the better shitty office coffee, his incessant chain smoking, your habit of wearing high heels, his use of informants. Everything. But the two of you were starting to get on his last nerve, which said enough considering that Murphy was a patient man.

“Steve-”

“Just stop arguing and fuck already,” he said and you immediately felt all the blood in your body flow to your face, sure you were just as flushed as you as deep red tomato. You didn’t dare look at Javier for fear of the expression on his face, “or do whatever you need to in order to stop getting at each other’s throats all the time. You’re worse than children.”

“Well, you’re both the worst,” it was the only thing retort you could come with after his little outburst. You kept your back turned to Javier as you stormed out of the storage locks without another word, “have fun or whatever. Don’t get shot, I guess.”

You cringed slightly at the memory, wishing it had gone slightly smoother than that. You seriously hoped that wasn’t the last interaction you’d have with either of them, especially Javier. You didn’t know what you would do if that was the last time you’d gotten to see him. 

But you pushed the memories to the back of your mind as you  felt the sweet lull of slumber finally start to win over, a loud, booming knock came at your door causing you to jump and almost fall off of the couch. You sighed heavily before collecting yourself and pausing to glance at the clock on the wall. It was nearing two in the morning - no one in their right mind should have been at your door. Your first thought was that it was someone coming after you, someone that had decided they had a vendetta against you, coming to make you pay for your sins. 

Instinctively, you moved to the kitchen and grabbed your gun, holding it in front of you as you headed towards the door, alarmed by another loud knock. Putting your hand on the knob, you swallowed the lump that had worked its way into your throat. You were suddenly wide awake as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. After mentally counting to five, you yanked the door open, gun cocked and aimed at whoever had decided to come after you, ready to pull the trigger and stand your ground. Maybe you were green, but you were confident in the fact that you could hold your own if you suddenly had to.

Instead of an enemy, you found yourself face to face with none other than Javier Peña.

“Javi,” his nickname rolled off your lips in a quiet whisper as you met his warm brown eyes, your own already stinging and on the verge of spilling over with tears. You felt like you could breathe again, waves of relief crashing down on you as you realized he was alive. But at a price. He looked tired, very tired, and worn out, his hair a mess and his clothes looking in need of a wash, much like the rest of his sweaty body. But he was alive, and that was the operative fact, and the only fact you cared about in that moment.

“Were you going to shoot me, kid?” he asked, his deep velvety voice reached your ears and causing your stomach to flutter slightly. He looked between you and your still outstretched hand before grabbing the gun, removing the cartridge of bullets, and tossing it to the side where it clanged to the ground with a loud metallic clang. He studied you silently, almost in a challenging way, trying to see which one of you would break down first. He was the one that had showed up on your doorstep after all.

But it wasn’t going to be you because you weren’t able to find any words. Instead you were frozen in time, your body humming with content as you realized that all of your worry had been for nothing. He was okay, he was alive, and he was currently mere inches away from you; you could feel his body heat radiating onto yours, his natural musk invading every bit of your senses. 

You had missed him more than you thought, for reasons that were known to you, but you would never speak out loud. You didn’t want to hear the words ever come out of your mouth because that would mean that they were true, that your feelings for Javi were more than just those of friends and partners. That your feelings were those that made it seem like he was the reason for all the glittering stars in the night sky, that he was your morning sunshine after a dark night of rain.

But Javier didn’t need you to say anything.

It all happened fast; so fast that you didn’t even have a chance to process what was going on before he put his hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips onto yours. It was needy, fast, bruising, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. After reality hit you like a train,  you responded by throwing your arms around his neck, carding a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as  his rough hands found your waist, his fingers quickly finding their way under the hem of your shirt and brushing along the soft skin.

It was hard and fast, the two of you expressing your desires without the use of words, only pulling apart when you needed a breath of air. You looked up at him and found him staring back at you, his eyes expressing an emotion you couldn’t quite place. It was intense, frightening, and most of all hungry. He was the hunter and you were his prey. 

“Y/N,” Javi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he kissed you a few more times, eventually finding your jaw and working his way down your neck. It took everything in your power not to moan out loud at his touch, at the feel of his lips on your delicate flesh, and you bit your lip as you kept your arms around his neck. But before you could let it go any further, something snapped inside you and you came to your senses and put your hands on his chest, a silent plea for him to stop. As much as you wanted him to continue, to somehow have it end up in your bedroom, with you under him as he gave you what you had been desperately wanting, you knew you shouldn’t. He was your partner, your friend, and on top of all of that, he was older and he had a reputation. 

It was a reputation he had earned for a reason, and that was enough for you to stop whatever might transpire before it got any further. 

“Javi,” you said as he pulled back from you, looking at you with concern written all over his face. You shook your head and took a step back from him, already saddened by the loss of his body against yours, “we...we shouldn’t do this. We can’t do this.”

You pointed between your bodies, biting your lip in a way that drove him crazy, not that he would ever admit that, and sighed. Sometimes your rationalism got the best of you, and you wished you could just throw it out the window. How you wished you could just have him then and there, to feel him all over your body.

“Why?” he asked quietly as he put a hand on your cheek before ghosting his fingers over the contours of your face, and he wondered, momentarily, why he’d waited so long to touch your soft skin.  Part if you wished you had let him continue, but the rational part of your brain told you that you’d done the right thing, “I thought...we...that there was something there? Between us.”

“We can’t,” you just repeated softly, “we’re friends...partners...this can only end in two ways, and neither of them are good.”

“Give me a good reason. Just one good reason,” he insisted and you knew he had a valid point, but you also both knew what you were trying to say, “tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’ve been wrong in thinking that there was something between us this whole time. Tell me I’m wrong. And if you don’t want this, it stops here and I’ll walk away.

You looked at him silently for a few moments, his eyes pleading with yours, rendering you  unable to form a coherent thought; you wanted to tell him that he was right, but all you could see was looming heartbreak on the horizon, and you weren’t about to willingly put yourself through torture for nothing. Not with him or anyone else. 

Every other relationship you had had blown up into a million pieces in front of your very eyes. You weren’t able to subject yourself to that again, no matter how much you longed for him, no matter how many nights you spent alone in bed, thinking of him, wishing he was there with you. You finally, painstakingly, met his eyes, giving him a small grimace before shrugging your shoulders, “I...I don’t want this.”

A lie. A bold lie you both could easily see through. 

“Okay,” he took a step back, shaking his head at you as he tried to keep himself in check. He wanted to yell, to scream, to cry, something - anything. But instead, he moved silently towards the door, stepping through it without so much as another look at you, slamming it shut behind him. You winced slightly at the loud sound before slumping back down onto the couch. You gave the wine bottle a pathetic look, wishing you had more so you could block the events that had just transpired. 

Either you had just made the wisest decision of all, or you had possibly made the biggest mistake. 

It was a fine line between the two. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #disappear here series #steve murphy

[thinkinem]

seeing discussion of lgbtq+ representation in one chicago on the dash so I’m taking this as my opportunity to float my overindulgent head canon* that Matt Casey is one superbly repressed queer.

*this quickly got out of hand and is likely well into au territory, but if I have to think about-- it as incoherent as it is--then you do too!

The reason he botched his moment with Sylvie so hard was that when things slowed down and Sylvie asked her Gabby question, Matt got majorly overwhelmed by the reality that he was about to jump into another relationship with a woman that already has all these ideas about who he is as a man and as a boyfriend. 

Usually he can ignore the dull feeling of disconnect that always comes when he’s first intimate with a woman. But dammit, he really thought Sylvie could be The One. He really thought this time those feelings of affection and aesthetic appreciation that he could conjure when he pressed himself to meant something. He was so sure that he was going to feel that spark people write songs about with Sylvie. That it was going to redeem him for all the ways he couldn’t be enough for Gabby, for all the times he looked Hallie in the face and wasn’t truthful.

But that spark, swoop, tingle, whatever it’s supposed to be, it isn’t there. Sure, he’s got the motions down, a smooth execution of the classic moves, and he likes feeling strong and needed and scooping Sylvie up without hesitation does that for him. But it’s not the aha moment he was expecting. The moments they’d shared over the past two years, the little glimpses of a future with this woman in his arms turn stale just like they always do when he goes to seal the deal. 

When Sylvie pulls back, Matt’s heart stops. He’s sure this is it, that if anyone is going to finally see through him it’s going to be Sylvie Brett. And in a lot of ways he’s relieved. Sylvie is a safe space, a trusted confidante, he knows she won’t mock or laugh. But also the idea of putting words to the way he feels scares the life out of him, to say it out loud would make his Otherness too real. (Even when he and Kelly were in the middle of whatever it was they had, Matt could never fully admit to it out loud, not even just as a whisper in the dark to the man that had already seen all of him and stayed close anyway). 

But Sylvie doesn’t see through him. Or she thinks she does, but really she couldn’t be farther from the truth. So when she asks if he’d go with Gabby, it feels easiest to say he doesn’t know. 

But his “I don’t know” was less about going with Gabby as an individual, and more about the idea of committing himself to another/any woman again. The divorce gutted him. It forced up a lot of thoughts and feelings that he was relying on that relationship to keep a lid on. But also, it felt a lot like checking off a task from a to do list: he did his due diligence as a man to have a wife and attempt a classic version of a family just like he was always expected to do (and in a lot of ways it felt like a big fuck you to his father and every one of his sneering insults).

The thing is, Matt knows in his bones that he wants someone like Sylvie Brett by his side for the rest of his life; she’s amazing, loyal, funny, understanding, everything he’d want in a partner. But in that moment Matt decides he cannot go down this road again. Sylvie is all those wonderful things and more, and she deserves a guy who wants all of her, not just the idea of her. 

For a moment he thinks it’s going to work out. He gets out the cliched “it’s complicated” and is almost ready to do it, ready to own who he is right there. But the words get a little stuck and then Sylvie is filling in the blanks with all the wrong colors (and, Jesus, isn’t that familiar). Then the next thing he knows, he’s breaking Sylvie Brett’s heart exactly the way he vowed to never do. The moment is quick and messy and feels terrifyingly unsalvageable, but it’s happening, then it happened, and there’s nothing he can do about it. (He sleeps with Sydney because that’s what he does when a relationship ends: he sleeps with a stranger, always female, and does everything opposite what he did in the relationship, just to double test the theory that it really is something in him and not just around him. Sydney: sexy and funny and charming; The Theory: confirmed)

And suddenly Matt is exhausted. He’s got decades of built up secret and accumulated grief on his shoulders and he can’t move with it all weighing him down. So he just sort of stops fighting it. He puts up the token efforts with Sylvie, tells her he doesn’t regret it, that she’s still very important to him, then lets her walk away when she informs him that it can never happen again, that he is a man still in love with his ex wife. On net, she’s actually kinda half right, and he lets himself have a quiet, sardonic chuckle at that.

Matt’s got the job, his rank, his men, the city. They’re more than enough to live for, to love, to give his all. They’ve got expectations of him too, and they’re ones he can meet with an ease that doesn’t exist anywhere else in his life.

Five weeks after Matt decides he’s really only meant to be Captain Casey, he wakes up on Christie’s couch with the mother of all hangovers. He gets a solid five minutes of laying awake, nauseous and self-loathing before his older sister comes in with a steaming cup of coffee and smile more gentle than he’s ever seen her wear. She digs her hand into his shoulder and tells him about coming home from her freshman year of college for Thanksgiving. 

She tells him about letting herself be dragged back to the high school stadium by friends she hadn’t quite lost touch with yet for the annual cross-town rival Turkey Bowl football game. She tells him about not watching a single moment of the game, about missing the moment when Star Quarterback John Murphy’s collar bone snapped. She tells him about becoming the most committed high school football fan in the five minutes after the ATs got John Murphy off the field, and the coach decided that what the hell, they’d finish the game anyway, that scrawny freshman Matt Casey would finally get some playing time after a whole season of sitting the bench. She tells him about flying off her seat, about going hoarse the next day from telling everyone in the stadium “that was my brother, Matt Casey, the kid who made the final point, that’s my brother.”

Matt, sitting up now, gives Christie a soft smile and mumbles that it was fluke really, that he didn’t see a second of playing time again until his junior year, that he was always more of a hockey guy. Christie reaches across him again digging her nails into his shoulders, says with the mean kind of love only older sisters are capable of, “Matthew Michael, you are not a fluke.”

A week after Matt pulls himself off Christie’s couch Sylvie tells him she is done needing space, that she misses her friend. He’s grateful for that and does his best to not be annoyed when she starts looking surprised that he isn’t ‘fighting’ for her or doing whatever charming manly bullshit he would’ve done even just a few months ago. But Matt is done fighting for things he doesn’t really want, is done fighting himself at every turn and is ready to start fighting for himself. He isn’t a fluke and one of these days he’s going to prove it. 

In fact, he proves it when he goes to dinner at Stella and Kelly’s new place on a warm fall night just under a year since he was standing in the hallway of Sylvie’s apartment exhausted of himself. It’s him, Stella and Kelly of course, Sylvie but not her boyfriend, and Sam Kidd, Stella’s older brother who just moved to Chicago and is “desperate enough for friends that I’m hanging around my baby sister, I know it’s--ow, Steve, don’t hit me!”

Sam Kidd is funny and charming and tells terrific stories about a precocious preteen Stella. And after dinner when he and Matt end up alone in the kitchen having volunteered for clean up duty, Sam puts a firm hand on Matt’s shoulder and says he appreciates how Matt has looked out for his baby sister these past years, that he was skeptical of the stories Stella told him about her Captain right up until he shook Matt’s hand earlier that night. Sam readily agrees when Matt insists that Stella has never needed any looking after but his hand lingers in an appreciative squeeze on his shoulder anyway. 

They walk down the block toward their cars together after seeing Sylvie safely to her Uber. When they get to Sam’s sleek black sports car (he’s in marketing and apparently very good at it), Matt is less surprised than he thought he would be when Sam crowds him against the passenger side door and sweetly asks “would it be alright if I kissed you?” (Matt says yes, to the kiss and a date, as well as a second date and third one too).

They don’t make a big announcement or anything, but they also don’t hide it. When Stella and Kelly get married in the Spring, Sam pulls Matt out onto the dance floor and holds him close right in front of everyone. For the first time in his life, Matt doesn’t mind the attention a single bit because he’s finally where he fits.

When Matt is all danced out, and Sam is cutting in to dance with his sister, Matt finds himself in the little anteroom straightening out gift bags and taking a moment to feel quietly pleased with himself. Sylvie comes in then, eyes shining to compliment the new ring on her left hand. For a moment Matt worries she’s upset with him, but then her face breaks into a soft grin and he barely catches her “oh, Matt” before he’s catching her. When they pull away from each other Matt gives her a grin of his own, one that he hopes says I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry it all got so messy but I can’t be sorry for who I am. Sylvie must understand him because she’s still grinning as she says, “you’re happy.” It’s not a question, but Matt nods anyway because finally, after years and years, it’s fully and all the way true. He’s happy.

#matt casey #sylvie brett #christie casey jordan #chicago fire #chicago fire fic #chicago fire headcanons #if i was any good at this I would've included a casey/severide moment as well #but im not so i didn't #i have it in my head tho #also stella telling a very good joke about the two of them being so codependent that they had to fall in love with people from the same fam #also i feel like sylvie isn't very flushed out in this but like it's about matt so... #she's an ally #i want that clear #sylvie is 100% team matt living his truth etc #also definitely fast friends with Sam #he calls her in a panic one day bc matt came home with his arm all bandaged and unconcerned #but sam IS concerned bc ANY amount of skin melting is too much skin melting dont come at me with a degree system matt

[queenshelby]

A Friend with Benefits (One Shot)

31 Days of Kink: Day 26

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, FFM Threesome, Breeding Kink

Words: 2,365

Notes: Alright now. I am in a same sex relationship and this is my biggest fantasy. Here you go. I hope you enjoy.

***

You and Laura have been together for five years. You recently got married and purchased your first house together and, whilst you were extremely happy, there was one thing that had been missing in your lives. A baby!

You were well aware of the fact that you wouldn’t be able to make a baby without a man and it was on a Sunday afternoon that, over several drinks at the local pub, your close mutual friend Cillian had offered his help.

‘Let me know what clinic you are going to use and I will, you know, do what has to be done’ Cillian chuckled, causing you both to laugh.

‘You know, we could just fuck. It saves everyone the hassle of going through the artificial insemination and a lot of money too’ Laura smirked, causing Cillian to choke on his pint of Guinness.

‘You mean like me with the both of you?’ Cillian asked somewhat flustered and you both looked at each other and then nodded.

‘Yes. You are single, we are willing and you really need to get laid’ Laura observed as his last date with a woman he had met at an art exhibition didn’t go very well and Cillian admitted to you both that, the last time he had sex, was six months ago.

‘Hmm, I always wanted to have a threesome with two women’ Cillian admitted, flushing cheeks as he did.

‘Well then Cilly, let’s set a date then, shall we?’ you asked and he nodded eagerly.

***

Your soft feminine mouth was pressing against Laura's as her tongue caressed yours. You both felt a little awkward being watched by someone at first but when you heard Cillian's breath deepen with arousal at the sight of you kissing each other, you started to relax in to it.

Laura then wrapped her arms around you allowing one hand to drift down to the curve of your spine while you took Laura’s bottom lip between your teeth pulling at it gently before resuming the kiss deeply and passionately.

Soon the familiar flutters in your panties began and you both yearned for each other’s touch.

But, just as you hungrily pressed into the kiss, Laura pulled away and turned to Cillian and delivered the same intense kiss, parting his lips and pressing her tongue in to his mouth as you watched on.

Laura then gestured with her head that it was now time for you and Cillian to kiss. Without losing any time, you pulled Cillian towards you, sharing the kiss you had been craving for and it was at this point that he felt his cock swelling as the thoughts of being with both, you and Laura, intruded his mind.

All of you were so turned on that the kiss was animalistic as your tongues fervently danced around one another and you both grabbed at one another aggressively, not caring if you caused the other pain before Laura had yet another turn, doing the same.

As Laura was kissing Cillian, you stepped behind her, laying your hands on her slender waist. Slowly your fingers started creeping up Laura's ribcage closing in on her chest.

Your hands stopped short just as your index fingers reached the underside of Laura's breasts and your thumbs pressed against the sides. With featherweight movement you drew your thumbs across Laura's breasts lightly brushing against her nipples.

Laura had neglected to wear a bra that evening as she had intended to tease Cillian with that fact, perhaps even accidentally let him glimpse down her shirt. Now her nipples pressed hard against her shirt clearly visible to Cillian as he broke off the kiss and watched you both put on yet another show for him.

He watched your hands stroking Laura's breasts and felt his cock springing to action in his pants. He loved the light moaning noises Laura was making as your dainty fingers flicked and pulled at her nipples unremittingly.

Cillian lifted Laura's shirt over her head admiring her perky breasts as they came into view. He stepped to the side and reached out further to repeat the action with you. You did have a bra on, a fine lacy black number which left almost nothing to the imagination. Your breasts were much larger than Laura's and the bra did an amazing job of pushing them up in a deliciously tempting way.

He reached behind and unhooked the clasp with ease. Coquettishly, you let both straps fall down your arms whilst holding the main material of the bra to still cover your breasts. Cillian looked at you directly in the eye.

‘Drop it’ he growled.

‘Yes sir’ you giggled as you let the fabric fall from your hand revealing everything. Your skin was bronzed from hours in the sun and your large firm breasts beckoned for him to touch them. He placed a hand on one feeling the weight in the palm of his hand whilst he lowered his mouth to the other. As he took your nipple in his mouth he felt it harden against his tongue.

Cillian then reached out and took Laura's hand and guided it towards your breast. There now were hands all over and you leaned in towards Laura and again began kissing her passionately as Laura grew more adventurous and lightly flicked at your nipple. Her other hand rested on the curve of your narrow waist enjoying the feeling of your womanly shape and soft feminine skin.

The removal of the remaining items of clothing was a blur and soon Cillian found himself naked, splayed horizontally across the bed with you and Laura standing at the foot. As the clothing slipped away clearly any remaining inhibitions had too. You whispered something to Laura who got on to the bed between his legs.

Her large eyes looked up at him briefly before tenderly she bent over and kissed his thigh a few inches short of where he wanted to feel her mouth. She planted another kiss and then another, slowly working upwards until her mouth reached his soft pubic hair. But instead of taking him in her mouth she skipped over his penis and ran her kisses down his other leg.

During this time, you had moved to the side of the bed and were now kneeling alongside him. In one athletic gesture you stretched out her leg, pivoting slightly until your smooth pussy was positioned just above his face.

He breathed in your sweet, intoxicating scent and stretched out his tongue to take that first tempting taste.

Almost exactly as his tongue met with your soft mound he felt Laura's tongue connect with his erection. Tantalizingly slowly Laura's tongue worked her way up his seven inches until she reached the head and plunged it in her mouth. Again, she reversed her action and made her way back down his penis until she reached his balls which she gently took in her mouth and sucked.

At the same time, Cillian’s hands were on your ass to support you as his tongue lapped at your wet opening and you bucked around. Occasionally he would push his long tongue through your pussy lips and thrust as though he was fucking you with it driving you wild. Then he would shift his focus to your clit, skilfully stroking it with his tongue.

He had a girl on his cock and another on his face. It was heaven.

‘Let’s change it up a bit and make this baby, huh’ Laura then said eagerly as she let go of his cock and let it fall from her mouth.

‘Who first?’ Cillian chuckled, as he lifted you from his face and laid you down on the bed.

‘Y/N first’ Laura said as she collapsed next to you and, after you shared another brief but seductive kiss, you climbed up on all fours, pushing your ass out towards where Cillian was kneeling.

You shifted over, between Laura’s legs while Cillian lined himself up with your entrance.

Tentatively you placed your hands on Laura’s slender, toned thighs, her thumbs turned inwards so that they almost made contact with her labia. You then brought your mouth close and softly breathed on Laura’s skin causing her to shiver involuntarily just as you could feel Cillian push his length inside of you slowly.

‘Oh god he feels good’ you groaned against Laura’s wet mound, causing all three of you to moan.

As light as a feather you traced the tip of your tongue gently up one side of Laura’s pussy hearing her moan in response all while Cillian pushed into you further and further from behind until he bottomed out against your cervix.

Then, Cillian started off with slow but firm trusts while you tried your hardest to seductively tease Laura’s velvety haven, alternating your deliberate, predictable patterns with sudden surprise moves.

‘Is he fucking you good Love?’ Laura moaned, enjoying the sight of Cillian taking you from behind while he watched you giving Laura head in the most seductive and pleasurable way.

‘So fucking good’ you moaned as Cillian picked up speed, causing you to groan and moan even louder.

‘Fill her with your cum, Cilly’ Laura moaned as she observed Cillian’s facial expressions change as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Oh my god fuck, Cillian’ you moaned, unable to pay any attention to Laura’s needs at this point as you could feel your climax approach quicker than you had expected.

It was at this point that Laura scooted up from beneath you and kneeled next to Cillian, kissing him passionately as he continued to fuck you.

‘You are making her cum Cilly, I can see it’ Laura groaned as she pulled your ass cheeks apart, giving Cillian a better view of his cock as he slid in and out of your wetness.

‘Oh my god yes that’s it’ you moaned loudly as your orgasm finally washed over you and your walls tightened around Cillian’s cock, milking his seed from him.

‘Fuck’ Cillian groaned as he reached his high only seconds after you did, filling you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘Hmm fuck, yes’ Laura groaned as she watched some of Cillian’s cum spill out of you and, just after he pulled out, she pushed one of her fingers into your pussy, pushing his seed further into you.

‘Jesus Laura’ Cillian huffed out, watching her play with his cum inside your pussy and, just after your breathing had returned to normal, she scooted beneath you and began pleasuring you with her tongue.

The sight of Laura licking his cum from your pussy turned Cillian on immensely and, within mere seconds, he grew hard again.

‘Common, my turn now you stud’ Laura chuckled as she spread her legs while she continued to dip her tongue into your wet folds.

Cillian was quick to line himself up in between Laura’s legs while you turned around, facing him while Laura, who was still lying beneath you, continued her attack on your cum dripping pussy.  

Without losing any time, Cillian pushed in to her tight little hole and felt the satisfaction as she cried out when his girth filled her up completely.

He fucked her slowly, watching as her enthusiasm for licking you continued to grow. She was not holding back now and he knew that her face would be wet with your juices and his cum.

Then again, Cillian watched Laura work a couple of fingers into you and focus her oral attention directly on your clit causing you to become even more feverish.

Knowing that she was having this effect on you was such a turn on and combined with the feeling of Cillian's incredible cock slipping and in and out of her she felt the familiar tension building in her body that ached for release.

As he was fucking Laura, Cillian began to rub his fingers over your clit while, ever so often, play with your breasts and kiss you.

Laura felt like she could cum at any second but continued to focus on her own work. She slipped your clit between her lips, cradling it in her tongue and sucked gently. This caused you to suddenly cry out with a shattering moan thrusting her pelvis as your orgasm overtook your body.

‘Your cum tastes so fucking good’ Laura growled after you finally moved away and took a closer look at what Cillian was doing.

‘I can’t wait to have a taste’ you moaned as you pulled Laura’s legs back, giving Cillian better access.

‘Fuck me hard now’ Laura screamed at Cillian who obliged only too willingly drilling his cock in to her so hard that a loud slapping noise filled the air. Her back arched upwards off the bed and her pussy gripped tightly at his erection as she cried out in pleasure amidst her climax.

Overwhelmed from the intensity of the sensations that had shot through it, Laura's body crumpled beneath Cillian causing his rock-hard cock to explode for a second time.

‘Oh god yes, fill her up’ you groaned as you watched Cillian come inside Laura, coating her insides with his seed until, finally, his movements came to a standstill and he pulled out.

Just as he slipped out, you lowered your head and took his hard shaft into your mouth, cleaning the cum of it and tasting Laura’s sweet juices.

‘Holy shit’ Cillian gasped as Laura sat up and joined you, taking his balls deep into her mouth while you focused on his shaft.

‘Is there more for us Mr Murphy?’ Laura then asked cheekily and Cillian couldn't take his eyes off the sight as both of you taking your turns to pleasure him.

‘Are you girls for real?’ he asked and, despite the fact that he had only just come, Cillian could feel his cock starting to stiffen again. This was going to be a long night!

***

Three weeks following your encounter, you were excited to break the news to Cillian and thank him for his efforts.

‘So, which one of you girls is pregnant then?’ he asked as you called him rather excitedly.

‘We both are you stud’ you both cheered.

‘Jesus, well, congrats ladies’ Cillian said.

‘Want to come over to celebrate?’ you then asked.

‘How does 7 o’clock sound?’ Cillian asked.

‘It’s a date’ you responded.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

[halfwaythereroyal]

Leave Us Here (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

GIF credit: @petercapaldi

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader 

Rating: Explicit. Smut. Unprotected sex (PSA: no love without the glove). Oral F! Receiving. Fingering. Lots of pining. Kind of angsty. 

Word Count: 3,600 words.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked my first fic. After I saw the responses about “And You Are?” I started writing this in the middle of the night and did not stop until 4 AM. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

👑 All my writing will be posted to my side writing blog from now on! 👑

Masterlist

_____________________________________________

If you asked me how a friendly goodbye ended up with my body entangled with Javier Peña’s on this scenic, rainy night, I couldn’t tell you.

Well. I could try.

It had been months and months on end, working at the Colombian embassy as a CIA agent. I had become somewhat of Peña’s and Murphy’s liaison whenever they needed CIA intel. All good and well with me since it gave me an excuse to talk to Javier.

Oh, Javier.

At first, I didn’t think much of him. He acted like a fucking dick whenever he worked with CIA, so my first impression was marred with rumors and stories I had heard of him from our coworkers. How he was impatient, obsessed, disrespectful, and a womanizer. Having to be his liaison and neighbor confirmed all these qualities.

As time went on though, he and I became closer. Small talk turned into friendly banter. Fleeting interactions turned into intentional time spent together. Sooner rather than later, his annoying qualities became ones I admired. He wasn’t impatient. He was insistent. He wasn’t obsessed. He was dedicated. He wasn’t disrespectful. He treated you the way you treated him. He was willing to do what’s right even though it broke the rules. He wasn’t…well actually…yes, he’s a womanizer.

Getting to know Javi these past few months, I understood why he is the way he is. For a man who didn’t keep relationships for long, he craved them. I saw how much he loves his family. There were many times I sat in his passenger seat, eating street food, while listening to his many stories of his family back home. The way he lovingly talked about his family had me hooked on every word, every expression, every gesture he made. He contributed his inability to keep an intimate connection with a significant other to the dangers of his job. He couldn’t afford to endanger anyone else especially with his line of work. Escobar was ruthless and despicable, and there was no line he wouldn’t cross to save his own ass.

As time went on, Javier became the highlight of my day. I looked for him in the winding halls of the embassy. I listened for his door to open and close when he came home from a late night yet again. I found my heart beating a little faster and a little louder every time I caught a glimpse of him. I found myself replaying every interaction we have ever had, every word, every smile, and every touch. I talked about him to my friends and family more than I would like to admit. I was fucked. I had fallen for Javier Peña.

Peña being linked to working with Los Pepes did not come as a surprise. Javi had already hinted to me that he was willing to do whatever it takes to take down Escobar and his associates. Him being sent home, however, came as a much bigger surprise. It stung to think of not having him here. He had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, only to be sent home and not be able to see the fruit of his work. I couldn’t even bear to see him pack up his desk to leave. Instead, I actively avoided any type of interaction at the embassy for his last few days, knowing it would hurt too much to say goodbye.

The night before he was scheduled to fly out of Colombia, there was a loud knocking at my door. It had been raining all day in Bogotá, so I was curled up on my couch with my oversized sweats and wine in hand. I wasn’t expecting anyone. With all the violence that had been happening, a CIA agent can never be too careful. My body immediately went on alert. I gently placed my wine glass on the coffee table, grabbed my gun, and crept toward the door. There was another set of knocks, louder than the first.

“Y/N? It’s Peña!” I stood on my toes and looked through the peep hole. Damn it, Peña. Didn’t he notice I was actively avoiding him? I unlocked and opened the door to reveal his handsome face. He was wearing a blue button-up shirt, and jeans that always fit him too well. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed. Or stared.

“What are you doing here, Peña?” I asked nonchalantly. Can’t be too eager, now can I? In reality, a warm and tingling feeling had bubbled up in my chest. I turned around and walked back to the living room. I could smell his cologne. I could feel his gaze burning holes at the back of my head. Javi took this as his invitation to come inside. He shut the door behind him and laid a pack of beer on my kitchen table.

“I haven’t seen you at work lately” he said. I sat on the couch to face him, brought my legs up, and tucked my feet under me. I looked at him basked in the yellow glow of my kitchen light. His chiseled features emphasized by the shadows cast on his face. He stood next to my table with his hand still on the drinks. He had his face scrunched, so that he had those lines in between his brows. I’m pretty sure it was permanently set that way. No amount of jokes I made could make those lines from his face disappear.

“I was busy.” Actively avoiding him. I took my wine glass from the table and took a sip. I put my free arm to hang on the back of my couch. “What brings you here?”

He took a beer out of the case he brought and opened it. “I wanted to spend some time together. For old time’s sake. One last time before I have to go.” I nodded and gestured to the spot on the other end of the couch. He sat down, took a sip of his beer, and leaned back. He pinched his nose bridge and blew out a long breath that felt like he was holding it in for a while. The lines in between his brows relaxed, but they remained visible and faintly scrunched. I really do think they have been etched into his skin. Whenever he got exasperated like this, I could almost swear his lips get a bit poutier. I gripped the back of my couch to stop myself from curling into his side. This man who has risked everything was sitting on your couch, looking for comfort. I wanted nothing more than to close the space in between us and feel his body relax into mine. I wanted to share in his worries and successes. To be there at his side. The smell of his cologne was almost overwhelming, willing me to draw closer. All these longing thoughts were easily halted by one plain fact flashing at the forefront of my mind.

He was leaving.

There was nothing that could be done about that. Javi was going to be leaving the next day, and I was staying here. Before my thoughts could continue spiraling into a pool of pining and pity, he spoke.

“I wanted to say thank you,” he looked at me with those brown eyes. Eyes that I often found myself lost in when he would talk to me. Eyes that are emblazoned into my mind at night as I play and replay our conversation from the day. “Thank you for everything.”

“You made it easy, Peña. I’m really sorry you don’t get to stay.” He fell quiet and looked off into the distance. He took another sip of his beer, leaned forward, and placed it on the coffee table. He put his elbows on his knees, and put his face in his hands. Almost instinctively, I set my glass down, moved closer, and put my hand on his back. I felt his back tense at my touch, and I immediately took my hand off. “Sorry I…”

“No, it’s okay.” He leaned back again on the couch. We were a lot closer than I thought. If I leaned my head forward, I would be touching him. My senses were heightened more than ever. The feel of his thigh against my knees. The heat of his body radiating to mine. The smell of his cologne, cigarettes, and beer all mixed into one to form an intoxicating cocktail that took every ounce of my self-control not to lean into. He was looking into my eyes as if searching for something. He was furrowing his brows, and my eyes were momentarily drawn to the pout of his lips. I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. I could feel him leaning closer and closer to me. So much so that I could feel every breath he took on my face. My mind and body were going haywire. Overanalyzing yet ready to abandon all thought and reason at the same time

He brought his hand up to the side of my cheek where it trailed a path to my hair. I felt him playing with my hair as we leaned even closer. His other hand took ahold of mine and brought it to his cheek. Time halted. My mind, analyzing every move he made, fell silent. The silence that engulfed in that moment was tense, intimate, and almost suffocating. He leaned forward, and I tilted my head forward, leaning my forehead against his. “What are we doing?” I whispered. I refused to look into his eyes, afraid of looking into them and seeing the realization of how stupid this moment could be for us.

“If you tell me to stop,” he brought his finger to my chin and tilted my head forward, meeting my eyes with his, “I will. You can tell me to walk out of this door right now, and I will.” I pondered his words, letting the silence hang in the air even longer. I stared into his eyes and found longing. It was as if something had clicked. My mind and body felt at peace. It felt…right. I brought my other hand up to fully caress his face and pulled him in to close the little space in between us. I felt the faintest touch of his lips on mine. “Javi,” I whispered, “Stay with me."

I felt him press his lips against mine. It was gentle. Bordering on timid. Not what I had expected at all from Javier Peña. He pulled away after a few seconds and touched his nose to mine. I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved one of my hands to tangle my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. I pulled him to me and all but smashed my lips on his. I must have taken Javi by surprise, because it took him a few seconds to respond. I felt him scrunch my hair in his fist. Our breaths got heavier and heavier as our lips moved with each other in a desperate dance to connect. He broke off from my lips to leave small kisses trailing from my mouth to my jaw to my neck. I felt his hands grip my waist, urging me to move up and allow him room. I obliged. He laid me down on the couch and settled his knee in between my legs. His kisses left a path of burning skin. Javier Peña was too much to take in.My mind and senses were muddled with the heat of his kiss. His hands on my body. The feeling of his arousal grinding on me as he kissed my neck. I tried to respond as best I can, acting purely on instinct. My hand stayed tangled in his hair while my other hand felt his arm. I often dreamed of him holding me in the very arms that encircled me now. I often fantasized what it would feel like for him to wrap his arms around me from behind, press his body against mine, and hold me.

He moved to the bottom of my sweater and pushed it upwards, asking if he could take it off. I raised myself up slightly, and he took it off and threw it on the floor. He brought his lips back to mine and snared me into another passionate kiss. My hands flew to the buttons of his shirt, attempting to undo them and failing in my haste. I groaned, both in arousal and frustration. I even tried to rip his shirt open in frustration before I felt his hands on top on mine. Javier laughed. He actually laughed. I opened my eyes and found the space in between his  brows to be free of those worry lines that often adorned his face. They were gone! I giggled as the tips of my fingers touched the faint lines that often made their residence there.

“Your worry lines are gone!” I smiled.

Javier held my wrist in his hand. His heavy gaze falling on my eyes. A soft smile remained on my face as he leaned his face into my hand and left soft kisses on the inside of my palm. My other hand was feeling the muscles and veins of his forearm. This, whatever this is, felt special. The world can wait tonight. Javier Peña was all that mattered to you right now.

He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor to join my sweater. In the meantime, I had taken off my sweatpants and started to unzip his jeans. He hastily got up and less than gracefully discarded his jeans, afraid to ruin the intimacy we had built. He joined me again in a heated kiss, and I felt his hands on my breasts, squeezing and groping.

“You have no idea…how much I have wanted you…liked you…never right time,” Javier muttered against my skin in between kisses. I moaned at his skilled touch. Javi took this as an opportunity to dip his tongue in to my mouth and wrestle with mine. He moved to kiss the tops of my breasts with an open mouth. I felt one of his hands slide towards my back. I arched my back, and he swiftly undid my bra and took it off to add to the growing pile of clothes. He placed hot, wet kisses to my nipples as his hand wandered down to my underwear. He slowly circled my clit, my underwear acting as a barrier, and yet not doing anything to downplay how Javi’s touch has affected me.

“Javi…oh my god, Javi. Mmmm…please. Please, I need you.”

“Tell me,” he whispered into my ear as he continued to rub circles that made me grow wetter and wetter for him. “Fuck I can feel you’re already so wet. Tell me what you want, querida. Tell me.”

“I need to feel you Javi. Please,” I moved my hand down to feel his arousal above his underwear. “I need…I need…ahhhhh.” Javi’s fingers had dipped into my underwear and slid his fingers up and down my pussy, spreading my arousal. He squeezed and played and circled my clit.

“You feel that, Y/N. You feel how wet you are? Tell me.” He whispered again.

“I want you in me, Javi. Please please please” I pleaded. He kissed the area beneath my ear, moving down to my neck, my chest, breasts, my stomach, until right above where I needed him most. I propped myself up and leaned against my elbows to fully look into his eyes. His eyes that could melt you even from afar.  He held my gaze as he slowly took off my underwear. He made his way back up my legs again by kissing the inside of my knee, my thigh, and then he paused. He looked at me and furrowed his brows in question. I bit my lip and nodded my head. He wasted no time in licking up from my pussy to my clit. He latched on to my clit while he inserted a finger into me.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Javier whispered. “God, you’re so fucking tight.” My head fell back in pleasure. His touch felt electric, and my body felt like electricity was running through my very veins. My hand flew to grip his thick hair. A lifeline to keep me grounded in the blinding pleasure Javi was giving me. He added another finger and picked up the pace. The salacious sounds of Javi and me moaning as he fingered and licked my pussy at the most delicious pace filled the apartment. I felt my body tensing, my legs shaking, and my grip on Javi’s hair got tighter. He groaned, sending vibrations into my pussy. I balled my hand into a fist and slammed it on the side of the couch. “Oh my god, Javi please. I’m so…fucking…ahhh I’m so fucking close.” I was on the edge of sobbing, desperately seeking to come.

“Come on my face, querida. Let go and come for me.” Javi said in that damned husky voice of his. His fingers went in and out of me faster as he sucked on my clit. I squeezed my eyes shut as my back arched, his hands keeping a firm grip on my hips. I moaned out loud as my body spasmed in ecstasy. Javi groaned and prolonged my orgasm for as long as he could, licking my pussy as I calmed down from my high. I was still catching my breath when Javi had taken his underwear off then crawled up to kiss me. His body covered mine, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being safe with him. He ground his hard arousal into me. I could taste myself on his tongue. This man was intoxicating, exhilarating, and dangerous at the same time. I couldn’t think of anything else outside of Javi and me. Right here. Right now.

“Fuck you’re so wet and tight. Are you ready for me, querida?” he muttered while continuing to grind into me.

“Javi, please. I want you. I need you inside me.” I reached down in between us and stroked him. He shut his eyes, threw his head back, and moaned. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he tried to keep it together. He put his hand over my hand that was currently on his cock.

“It’s about you tonight,” Javier said. “Let me.”

He positioned his dick for the tip to barely be entering my pussy. The sensation made me whine, needing more. He braced his weight on his elbows, and tucked his face into my neck. My hands went to his hair and his back. My legs wrapped around his hips, hugging him to me, afraid to let go. He slowly, ever so slowly, pushed himself inside of me. The sweet feeling of being stretched and filled clouded my mind. When he had pushed himself all the way to the hilt, he stopped. He looked into my eyes and whispered.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

He built up the pace. He switched from slow and sensual. Passionate and rough. He constantly kept me on edge, guessing how he could possibly add even more to my pleasure. Whenever I felt close to coming, he would slow down the pace, making me groan in frustration and him laugh at my reaction. Whenever he wanted to keep building up the tension of my pending orgasm, he would either change positions or snap his hips into me in a rougher, faster pace. We were lost in a haze of kissing and touching and moaning and groaning. Javier Peña had an undeniable hold on me. I was on top with him fucking me from below in a blissfully quick pace when my body tensed up and shook as I came. I practically screamed, overcome with all the pleasure Javi had been giving me. Not once did he ever break his focus on my pleasure throughout the night. I was still in the midst of my orgasm when Javi wrapped his arm around me and crushed me to his chest. His fingers tangled themselves into my hair. He ground his hips into mine. His thrusts losing its rhythm.

“Where do you want me to come?” Javi asked, breathing hard, trying to hold on to some sense of sanity.

“In me. I’m on the pill. Come in me, Javi.” I kissed his neck as his grip on me tightened, keeping me to his chest. I felt him coming into me. Hot spurts filling me as he buried himself to the hilt, grinding against my pussy while gripping my ass. His delicious moans right in my ear. His hot breath fanned over my hair. When he finished, I felt him kiss my shoulder and my neck. He caressed my face with both his hands. He planted a passionate kiss on my lips.

“Where does this leave us?” I couldn’t help but ask. I just spent a mind-blowing night with the man I wanted for so long. This was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. He was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. And he was leaving.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kissed my lips. I knew it. We had no choice. We had to leave us here. Wrapped up in the intimacy of our irrefutable connection. Knowing our attraction for each other would have to wait for the world. For now, however, the world can wait.

He looked into my eyes. “Leave us here.”

_______________________________________

Masterlist

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fic #self-insert #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #halfwaythereroyal #javier peña smut #narcos smut #narcos imagine #javier peña imagine #javier peña #narcos x reader

[jehaatiade]

:,) a humble ask for hc’s for Din, Ezra, and Javier admitting they love you in an angsty situation :,)

This took me hours but it came together so well! Thank you for the wonderful prompt!

Din:

he has mixed feelings about taking you along on bounties. you’re the rare combination of a talented bounty hunter and a person who’s never tried to cheat him.

but on the other hand… the possibility of coming back from a hunt without you makes something deep in his chest ache.

you make him laugh. you like him, but you’ve never pushed him to take off his helmet. you make the Razor Crest and the flight time between planets seem more alive.

he’s kissed you. more than once. but only as a Mandalorian, the cold beskar of his helmet against your forehead. he doesn’t know if you understand what that means.

the two of you are on a nameless dump of a moon where the grey salt flats are studded with wreckage from a space battle, tracking a pirate with a hefty bounty on his head, when it happens.

you get a single glimpse of the pirate before there’s a hail of blaster bolts headed in your direction. you both take cover, and the Mando uses terse field signs to lay out his plan: you go right and flush him out. i’ll go left and take him down.

the plan does not come together nicely. in fact, the plan does not come together at all.

the mark is harder to scare than you expected, and by the time you’re in range to force him out from behind his cover, you’re close enough that he can grab you.

it’s a little embarrassing, honestly. you haven’t been in a choke-hold with a blaster to your head since you were sixteen and stupid.

“Let her go,” the Mando says. despite the anger in his tone, his voice is even and his aim doesn’t waver. you’ve admired that rifle since the first time you saw it: the faint iridescence of its prongs, the elegant curve of its stock, the meticulous modifications to its forestock. you’ve never had it pointed at you before.

“Of course, my friend,” the pirate says. “Because I have survived this long by being incredibly foolish. No, she is coming with me. If you ask nicely, I may even leave her in one piece once I reach my ship. If you try to interfere…”

he makes a nonchalant who knows? gesture, and for a second the barrel of his blaster isn’t pressed against your head.

you haven’t been sixteen and stupid for a long time. the heel of your boot comes down on his instep with as much force as you can muster, and when his hold weakens, you drive your elbow back into his nose.

the pirate crumples into a groaning heap at your feet. the Mando lowers his rifle. you make a show of dusting off your hands, because no one has ever accused you of lacking a sense of drama.

it looks like the Mando wants to say something - you can see it in his posture - but he doesn’t, so you fill the silence. “Don’t tell me you were worried, Mando,” you tease. “Like you’d miss me bouncing around the Crest’s cargo hold making a mess every time we go somewhere. You just love having me around.” 

you’re not expecting him to reply, so you take the binders off your belt and bend to cuff the pirate. when you straighten, the Mando is right next to you.

“Yes,” he says. “I was worried. Yes, I would miss you. Yes. I love you.”

for once, you’re speechless, so you just watch your smile grow in the reflection of his visor. then you lean just a little bit forward, closing the gap and pressing your forehead to his.

(and then the pirate at your feet snickers, and you kick him in the ribs.)

Ezra:

taking this job has been one of your worst decisions to date. and of course, you did it because Ezra talked you into it.

“An absolutely unprecedented adventure, little bird!” he’d said. “A moon still molten from the fires of creation, spitting up gems like a baby with a colic? The harvest will be unparalleled; with the right gear, we will stroll through the lava fields collecting Niobe’s roses as easily as if we were berry-picking.”

it is, of course, not that easy.

calling the Red Moon molten is not an affectation; its broken crust oozes lava like a slow-clotting cut. you’re here for rhodoniobium, beautiful silver blooms that appear on the surface of the lava flows. it isn’t difficult to use the nets and poles to retrieve Niobe’s roses. what’s hard is staying alive while you do it. miners die in ugly ways every single day, and they’re rarely mourned.

liquid water is a thing of fantasy down here, for the most part, and everyone is forced to return to the base camp at Kīpuka when they run out. that’s where the two or you are headed when you get separated.

you’ve been examining plutonic rock formations since you arrived, looking for evidence of pegmatite mineral inclusions: rubies, sapphires, emeralds and other beryl gems. sure, they don’t sell for as much as Niobe’s roses, but you’ve never been able to resist sparklies. 

Ezra usually indulges you, but in this case, he’s been looking forward to a bath for two weeks. so when you stop to chip a sample from a smooth dome of granite, he keeps walking. you don’t think anything of it, figuring you’ll catch up to him, until a sharp “Shit!” comes through over the comm.

“Are you all right?” you ask, quickly starting to pack up your tools.

“Hardly the finest way to introduce oneself, taking pot-shots at innocent passersby,” Ezra says, his voice fuzzy with distance. “If you have had your entertainment, I would be much gratified to be permitted to pass.”

you abandon your tools and set out after him at a run as a much younger man says “This is our gorge, and if you want to pass through to Kīpuka, then you’re going to have to pay our toll.”

“I am always enthusiastic to participate in the civil preservation of infrastructure, have no doubt,” Ezra assures the men who you suspect are holding him under rails. “My partner is a ways behind, and she is carrying our meager pickings. You’ll allow me to contact her and request her presence?”

a grunt of agreement, and a short pause, before Ezra’s voice comes through more clearly on your private channel. “May I assume you’ve been listening, little bird?”

“Yeah,” you pant. your lungs are starting to burn, and you’d be tempted to throw off your heavy insulating gear if you didn’t know that the average air temperature around here is high enough to bake bread. “How many?”

“Four. Alas, more than I feel confident dispatching alone.”

“Almost there. I’ll come in over the ridge. Be ready to draw.”

“I always am.” there’s a pause, and at first you think he’s finished. then your comm crackles again. “If this goes wrong, little bird-”

“Don’t,” you say, because it feels like bad luck.

“I love you. Most ardently. If I die here, then I die happy to have known you.”

the only thing you can say is “Damn it, Ezra.” because you can’t wipe the tears from your eyes, and that’s going to make shooting these bastards just that little bit more difficult. he laughs softly, and clicks back to the public channel.

Ezra chats away with the bandits, distracting them with that awful anecdote about the channelrats while you close the last small distance to the ridge above the gorge. you crawl to the edge, thrower rifle cradled in your arms, and take a sniper’s position.

“I’m almost there,” you say over the public channel. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, little bird.” You can’t see Ezra’s smile, but you can hear it in his voice. He’s ready.

it goes very quickly, as most gunfights do: you push a stone over the edge to start a small rockslide, the bandits turn toward the noise, and you shoot the two men lounging in the shade while Ezra shoots the two standing in front of him.

“Ezra? You know what?” you ask once the bodies have hit the ground.

“What?”

“In spite of the fact that you have damned awful timing, I love you, too.”

Javi:

as Javier yells at you, you wonder idly if Murphy can hear you upstairs. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Just because you couldn’t have made it out of there, doesn’t mean I couldn’t!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he hisses, stepping closer.

you shove him back. “It mean you strut around Colombia flashing your badge and shooting sicarios like that’s what you get paid for! You’ve got Kiki Camarena keeping you safe. You know what I’ve got? A fucking press pass! If my cover’s blown, I get auctioned to the highest bidder and tortured to death!”

“Which is exactly why you should know better than to go sniffing around Escobar’s planes!”

“I don’t tell you how to do your goddamned job, Javi! Don’t you try and tell me how to do mine!”

Javi snarls and digs the packet of cigarettes out of his breast pocket, tossing it carelessly on the couch once he extracts one.

“You’re upset because I could’ve died?” you ask derisively as he lights his cigarette. “Let me tell you something. You, breaking in guns drawn because you think you’re rescuing me, are a lot more likely to get me killed than any mistake I could make.”

“Shut up,” he growls. he won’t look at you as you move closer.

“What is your problem? If this is still about those papers on the guerrillas-”

he shakes his head and turns away. you fucking hate it when he does this, pulling away from an argument rather than just fighting it through to the end.

“Then what?” you demand. if he’s going to disengage, then maybe you need to hit the right buttons to make him change his mind. “Don’t tell me you’re pissed off because you’ve finally realized I really am a better operator than you-”

“Because I love you!”

Javi’s outburst startles you, and you take a step back without thinking about it. he sighs, the tense lines of his shoulders going lax, and turns to face you again.

“Because I love you,” he says more softly. “Because I don’t know what to do without you any more, and that scares me more than any narco son of a bitch. Because I can’t even imagine what I would do if you were killed. Just the thought makes me feel sick.”

“Javi…” you whisper.

he shakes his head to stop you. “You want to know why, every time you come here, I ask you how your articles are doing? It’s because I have this-” he huffs out a helpless laugh. “- idiotic, ridiculous fantasy that one day, you’ll do so well that you’ll leave the agency and actually be a journalist for a living. And you’ll come and live with me, and I won’t have to wonder if you’re dead every time you go longer than a week between calling me.”

“Javi,” you say again. when you take the cigarette from his loose grasp to put it down in the ashtray, he raises his hand to rub his knuckles against his eyes. “You’re right. Part of your fantasy is ridiculous.”

“Only part, huh?” he doesn’t quite manage to make his sarcastic smile look sincere.

“Yeah. The part where you don’t seem to realize that all you have to do is ask.” you cup the strong angle of his jaw and lean in, almost nose to nose. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Why would you want to stay with me?” he asks. “I’m an asshole. I work too much. I’d just make you sick of me.”

“Because I love you,” you say, and kiss him.

#the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #narcos fanfic #javier pena #ezra #din djarin #rzrcrst #jehaatific

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fiancé: Chapter Five

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY

Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.

Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts.

A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, apartment sharing, protected sex, and more tags to be added!

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

Reality Bites

TUESDAY

Gentle sunlight filters in through a small gap in the curtains, warming your face. Stretching your legs out as you hum softly, you keep your eyes closed for a few minutes longer, clinging to the last remnants of sleep as your body revels in the support and softness of the bed and pillows.

Finally, though, as the alarm on your phone sings a trilling tune, you push yourself up and roll over to turn it off. Falling onto your back, you can’t resist lying there for another minute or so, gazing up at the ceiling and stretching.

Pushing the covers off, you slide out of bed and slip your feet into the slippers you had found in the wardrobe, and cross the room to where you’d hung the robe on the back of your door. Pulling it on, you yawn quietly, tying the cord. Slightly dopey from your deep sleep, that is a miracle bed, you open your door and move to the stairs, descending as you wipe at your eyes and mouth.

Mmh, right, drink, food, shower and then—

“Good morning, sunshine!”

Your eyes dart up as your foot touches the ground floor, your hand tightening on the banister. You stare at Nat and Sam, sat on the stools at the island, sipping drinks and looking bright-eyed, possibly having been up for hours, and Steve, standing behind the island. They’re all looking and smiling at you in varying degrees; Sam’s grinning, Nat’s got a smile that verges on a smirk, and Steve’s smile is warm.

... and then reality.

Raising your eyebrows as you clear your throat and lick your slightly dry lips, you continue to approach, moving into the kitchen area.

“Well, good morning,” you say to Sam’s greeting, starting to make yourself a hot drink as Steve moves out of your way.

You glance up at him and return his smile, though, God damn it, you hate how you still feel awkward. Last night you’d eaten together and watched the movie you’d chosen, but you’d both just sat in silence, only speaking to make a comment about something in the movie or to ask if the other wanted a refill on their drink. Saying goodnight to each other had been... okay. Had been in the same vein as when you might wish an acquaintance that you desperately wanted to like you goodnight, filled with lots of exclamations and smiles, at least on your end; ‘goodnight! Hope you sleep okay! Don’t let the bedbugs bite!’.

God, I hope I can settle in today.

“Did you sleep okay?” Nat asks, lowering a mug of what is probably the darkest coffee in the universe onto the island.

“Yeah, actually.” You wrap your hands around your drink, letting it warm you. “Dropped off straight away and slept right through.”

That had surprised you as much as it probably secretly did them. You’d anticipated a night of tossing and turning and fixating and anxieties, but your mind was probably so ready to be unconscious it had let you easily slip into sleep and stay that way.

“That’s good,” Steve says to your right, his arms folded across his chest.

“So the bed’s good and comfortable?”

You glance at Sam as you hum an affirmative, lifting your mug to your lips.

You can’t help but feel slightly like a flighty, caged animal and the most sensitive being in the world all rolled into one with the way they’re all looking at you and asking how you are, almost like they’re tiptoeing around you. It just reminds you of the huge favour you’re doing them, how dangerous it is, and also how it came about because of you.

No, stop that.

You’d told yourself last night, as you’d got into bed, that yes, you and Steve are in this situation because of you, but now you have a chance to make amends for it and help him, so there will be no more guilt or self-pity, just helping. With that in mind, you lower your mug after taking a long sip and swallowing, and widen your smile a little, looking between them all.

“So, what joys do today bring?”

“Well...” Nat reaches down into a bag you had spotted at her feet and pulls something out, straightening and placing it, a manila folder, onto the island. “... we have your schedule for the week here.”

Right... the hard part isn’t over. It hasn’t even begun.

"Okay,” you answer, grazing your teeth over your lower lip. “So what’s on the agenda?”

“Like I said yesterday, venue, cake tasting and dress shopping. We’ve got certain places we’d like you two to go to so we can start to see who’s tracking Steve.” Nat’s only looking at you, so they’ve probably spoken about it with Steve before you got up. Part of you wishes you’d just be told these things together, then you wouldn’t have to take and process everything on your own.

“Okay.”

She pushes the folder towards you before resting her arms on the island. “We now have five days to identify and arrest them, so it’s gonna feel like a lot but, as we’ve said, very necessary and useful. Today you’re—”

“Woah, hang on.” You’d opened the folder as she’d spoken, your gaze drifting down the very packed schedule, and you’ve just reached ‘THURSDAY’. You look up at her, feeling your stomach flip. “I’m not doing an interview.”

Nat takes a small, quiet breath. “No, we thought you wouldn’t want to, but...”

Ah. This is why they were being so nice and attentive.

“But?”

She holds your gaze. “But you will both need to do one. We need all the social pages to be buzzing and the chatrooms going, and people will wait outside to get a glimpse of you both. It’s the best place for someone to try and blend in, as they’ll have prior knowledge of where you two are. By Thursday we should have a list of suspects, so that will be our final, large opportunity to scope people out and potentially seize them.”

You look at Steve, who’s looking at you, quiet, expressionless, and you know he already knows all this so he’s probably agreed to it, so how can you challenge it? He doesn’t say you don’t have to like he did yesterday, probably because you know as well as he does that you do, you both have to.

In for a penny, in for a pound...

This is to help him, this is to help him, this is to help him...

“Okay,” you reply after a moment, your gaze dropping back down to the schedule.

Nat continues, glancing at Steve while you’re not looking. “All right, it’s with America Today at 1PM, but you’ll both need to be there for 12 for hair and make-up. We can guess what they’ll ask, probably about how you two met, how you’re feeling, probably light things like that.”

“Will it be live?” Her eyes are back on yours when you look up.

“Yeah.”

Fucking hell.

“Okay.” Your heart is pounding but you know you need to start giving more than five word answers, because you do want to do this, you’re so fucking determined for this to be successful, and you can’t bear any of them feeling guilty... but from Sam’s shifting, Steve’s silence and Nat’s tightly clasped hands, you guess they already are.

Inhaling a breath, you smile. Closing the folder, you wrap your hands around your mug again and lean back against a counter. “Well, we’ll think about that when we get to it.”

If Nat’s concerned, delighted, or surprised by your shift in demeanour, she doesn’t let on, and even all the tips she’s given you about reading body language can’t help you suss out her mood now. “Good. There’s plenty of time to prepare and I can ask the producers for a general idea of what they’re gonna ask. As for today, though...” She smiles, and it’s probably just as secretly forced as yours is. “... you’re gonna go venue viewing and cake shopping.”

"Ugh, marvellous. No, I actually am excited for that,” you say as Sam raises his eyebrows at your groan.

“Good, ‘cause there’s gonna be a couple of places, but first there'll be the venue visit that we’ve managed to leak to the press.”

“Okay. Oh, uhm,” you start to add as Nat goes to slide off the stool, “I’d like to add drinks with my friends for Wednesday evening...” You glance down at the schedule, double checking that it’s clear. For some reason, all your evenings are, except Saturday.

How kind of them.

“With who?” Nat asks, removing her phone from her pocket and unlocking it.

“Dolly Murphy and Bridget Sanderson. I work with them.”

“Yeah, we know who they are,” she says as she types something down on her phone.

Of course you do.

“Oh, I like them, uh, as in both of them, I mean,” Sam quickly continues as you arch an eyebrow, a smirk starting to form on your lips.

From what Bridge’ had told you last night, they both like each other very much.

“Good, so... do I have permission?”

“Yeah, that should be fine,” Nat answers as her phone disappears back into her pocket. “We’ll work out logistics, but a night out—”

“Could help me relax before the interview?”

Her lips twitch as she folds her arms. “Could give us another chance to watch the people who track you separately, along with you going dress shopping without Steve. People who are fascinated by your relationship will want to see and follow you, people fascinated with Steve, in all kinds of ways, will want to follow him. With that being said, we need you to post on social media, too. Photos on your Instagram grid, stories, things like that so people can figure out where you are.”

“Right, okay.”

Off private we come, brilliant.

She looks at you, her features softening a touch, "Do you have any more questions or anything else you’d like to add to it?”

You shake your head before you can even being to entertain the idea of anything else. “Nope. Seems all good to me.”

You can’t be the only one who wants to laugh at that.

Nat nods before any of you can and rises off of the stool, reaching down to grab her bag and lift it onto the island. “There’s just one last thing.” Reaching into the bag, she pulls a small handgun out—

A handgun.

And holds it out to you.

You hear Steve hiss out a quiet breath as she looks at you and you stare at her.

“What? A gun? Are you kidding me?”

She places it between you on the island. “It’s just for peace of mind, okay, and for your safety. Just in case.” Her eyebrows raise slightly. “Do you remember what I taught you?”

Nat had invited you to the gun range at SHIELD once, probably about a year ago, after a spectacularly shitty day for both of you, to blow off some steam. It had worked, and she’d shown you how to properly operate some of the many handguns they had. It had been a fun day, the most time you’d ever spent with Nat actually, and due to her very thorough demonstrations, you still remember what to do.

“Yeah, I do.”

Steve looks at you, taking the small gun and holding it in your hands, stood in your pyjamas, slippers and robe. He looks away, and meets Sam’s gaze. The other man just raises his eyebrows, a silent reminder he can’t reprimand or challenge Nat on this.

Because they’d already discussed it in harsh, hushed tones barely twenty minutes ago.

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind, Nat?”

“My tests say ‘no’,” she’d answered drily, her arm resting on the back of her stool. 

He’d braced his hands on the island, arching an eyebrow. “She won’t need a gun, she shouldn’t need a gun, not with our protection.”

“I’m not taking any chances, Steve. We don’t know what these guys could do, I have to cover every kind of situation imaginable, you know that, as awful as it might be, I have to think of these scenarios and be ten steps ahead. This is a precaution.”

He’d pressed his lips together, knowing she was right, knowing he’d most likely make the same decision at the end of the day. He just hated the idea that you might need to use it.

“Steve...” Nat had licked her lips, exhaling a breath, her shoulders dropping just slightly. “You have to be okay with all of this. Even with the interview and the gun. It’ll make it easier for both of you. I’m not making these decisions lightly. Fury put me in charge of this so I’m gonna make damn sure my friends are kept safe, okay?”

He hadn’t been able to argue with that, either. He’d have gone to the ends of the earth for you all if roles were reversed, and he trusted Nat. So, he’d kept quiet, watched you, been the calming presence he so often needed to be, but he hadn’t been able to stop his reaction at seeing the gun, as quiet as it was.

He’ll make damn sure you don’t need to use it.

You place the gun in your robe pocket as you blow out a breath. “Wow, well, guess I’m one of you guys now, huh?”

Nat snorts as you catch Sam’s eye and smile, and she heads to the stairs, gesturing for you to follow. “Yeah, I’ll email you when there’s a recruitment drive. Come on, time to get ready, Miss America.”

You’d thought Nat was joining you to choose an outfit for you for some reason, but instead she just sits on the bed, letting you choose whatever you want and taking your phone, uploading a whole new, SHIELD approved security system to it that will protect it from being hacked, and block numbers you haven’t added to your contacts. She also gives you a more in-depth run down of the day as you change in the wardrobe.

The viewing is going to be at hotel, and she had chosen the place because A) ‘it is very fucking fancy’, and B) to see if anyone would inquire about rooms for the random date you’ll tell the person showing you around, the date of which will somehow be leaked to the press.

Then, you’ll have lunch at a cafe, somewhere you can see people and they can see you, and then it’ll be on to the cake tasting at two of the best places in D.C.

“... so don’t fill up at lunch,” she finishes as you emerge from the wardrobe.

Closing the doors, she sits up, having lain back on the bed for probably the only rest she’ll get, as you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“We should have you back for about 5, then, all right?”

You hum through a mouthful of toothpaste before spitting it out. “Okay.”

She falls silent as you finish up in the bathroom and head back into the bedroom a few minutes later. Adjusting the engagement ring on your finger, you push the bathroom door shut with your foot as she looks up at you from her phone with a smile.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.” You strike a slight pose before finding your shoes. “Can I ask, why don’t Steve and I have anything scheduled for the evenings? I thought there’d at least be a fancy dinner or something where we would have to show ourselves off.”

She exhales a laugh as you sit beside her to tug your shoes on. “We toyed with the idea, but we know how much you and Steve like having your evenings to relax.”

Your eyebrows raise as you look at her. “Wow, you mean we’re actually getting something we want?”

She snorts. “You’re telling me you don’t want to spend all this time with Steve?”

Your mouth opens then closes as you pause for a second. “Well, yeah, but, you know, that’s not what I meant—”

Nat pats your hand as she rises to her feet, her lips twitching. “All right, come on, before you pop a blood vessel.”

Your face feels warm because she’s got that infuriating smirk that means she’s either sussed your feelings out, mortifying, or she’s just teasing you which is just as annoying. But... That is actually... That is actually quite a nice take on all of this. Despite the circumstances, you are getting to spend a lot of time with your best friend. 

You feel brighter as you follow her out and down the stairs, pushing your phone into your bag over your shoulder and closing it. Sam and Steve are still at the island, both sat on stools this time, and Steve’s laughing at something Sam is saying, gesturing with his hands what you work out is his latest attempt at trying out a new version of his wings.

“... Ah, man, I tell you, I am not paying Stark back for that,” Sam finishes as you and Nat reach the ground floor.

Steve’s chuckling fades but his smile remains as you and Nat approach, the men turning to you.

“You ready?” Nat asks him as she continues on, heading for the front door.

“Yep.”

Both men slide off of their stools as you come to a stop, hearing Nat answer a call on her phone.

“Nat’s gonna be tailin’ you two today, along with some other agents,” Sam says as he meets your gaze, rolling his shoulders.

“And what are you going to do?”

He snorts and points at the balcony. “I’m gonna try that pool out. Have a great day.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous,” you call after him after he slaps Steve on the back and heads outside, waving.

“Me, too, actually,” Steve sighs, both of you looking out of the window at Sam, knowing how cold it is from seeing his breath in the air. “God, lounging in a heated pool all day would be nice.”

“Hey, we get to spend the day eating cake and having people stare at us.”

He chuckles as he meets your gaze, tilting his head. “Well, there’s no competition, then, is there.”

“Come on, you two,” Nat calls from the door and you both start to move at the same time, not wanting to annoy her by being half a second slower than necessary.

Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you feel... optimistic about today, your smile easy. As you both head down the short hall towards the door, Nat holding it open for you, you glance at him, one hand in his pocket as he presses the button for the elevator with the other. 

As you hear Nat closing the door behind you, you murmur to him, “You know I... I’m glad to be doing this with you, too.”

His gaze shifts to you, a corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other and, oh, how you’ve missed that twinkle in his eye.

“Let’s give ‘em America’s couple, huh?”

—

“Fuck me, this is nice.”

“Yeah... I don’t know actually. You’d have to get so lucky with the weather.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

You’d envisaged a rather nice hotel, but this place is a fucking mansion. Four floors, you can’t remember how many rooms the guide had said but there’s far too many, the ballroom where they hosted receptions was ginormous and decorated, like the entire building, to an exquisite degree that put the penthouse to shame. The gardens at the back of the property are what is really selling the place, though, stretching on with immaculately trimmed hedges and lawns, gorgeous fountains and statues.

You and Steve are standing some way off from the man showing you around, sipping champagne and surveying the land. The champagne had been a nice surprise, the glasses having been handed to you the moment the tour started as a congratulatory gift and as a taster of what the hotel could supply.

You’d flipped the brochure open with your free hand as you’d gone from one room to the next, trying to find the price list. You’d nearly spit your mouthful out when you’d seen the cost. 

Then you’d asked for a refill, the man happily obliging, so beside himself with joy that you were both considering this as the wedding venue that he’d have given you anything.

Taking a sip, you lower the glass with a snort before continuing, “Well, if you got unlucky and it rained you could just be like, ‘hey, it’s like that song’.”

“What song?” Steve had also accepted a refill, but thanks to his serum you think the alcohol is only making you a little looser.

Thank God.

“You know the one, I think it’s on the playlist, ‘it’s like rain, on ya wedding daa-ay~’...”

“Aah, yeah,” he laughs. “If you were the right couple you could get a real kick out of that.”

“You could milk that story for years.” Draining your glass, you make a sound of delight as you point down to the bottom of the garden. “Oh, look, a little bandstand.”

Steve lets out a hum, nodding. “Oh, that’s a nice touch, people love that.”

“Great photo opportunity. Oh, that reminds me, photo time.” Handing him the brochure, you open your bag and pull your phone out, having to put three codes in now to unlock it due to the new security system, and then you open the camera app. Turning slightly, your back to him, you raise your phone and beam, tilting your head, and he lowers his head into the frame, his chin just above your shoulder, and smiles. 

You take pictures together all the time, candids of the other person or selfies of your reactions to the classic films you watch, but you don’t think you’ve ever really taken a photo like this. You never post a picture of you two on your social pages, respecting his privacy and not wanting the attention it will draw, but you have a couple of framed photos at your apartment of when you’d celebrated your birthdays together that you love.

“Perfect,” you say after you take the photo, dropping your arm and locking your phone, planning to upload it when you’re back in the car.

Sliding it back into your bag, you loop your arm through his as you huff out a breath, squaring your shoulders slightly as you head back towards the guide.

“You cold?” he asks, bending his arm so it can support your hand. 

“Just a little.” You scoff. “Who decided to have a winter wedding.”

He tilts his head, exhaling a mock-exasperated breath. “Think that was you, honey.”

“Me?” You give a faux-gasp in return. “No, darling, it was you. So desperate to marry me you don’t even mind freezing.”

He side-eyes you, arching an eyebrow.

You clock on a second later.

Your eyes widening as your mouth drops open, even as a wide grin lifts the corners, you pull your arm back, trying very hard to stop a laugh. “Oh, oh, no, right, no, I didn’t mean—”

“I think I’m gonna insist on a prenup,” he tuts, shaking his head even as you watch him trying to gain control of his smile.

Laughing, you feel the damn best you have in days. Looking up at him, your teeth graze over your lower lip.

“This is actually quite fun, isn’t it?” you whisper, conspiratorially, because should it actually be, because this is actually a serious fucking mission.

His answering smile tells you it absolutely fucking can. “I think it is. Free champagne, nice apartment, and, hey, cake tasting’s comin’ up.”

You groan with delight. “Ugh, don’t, I’m already so excited, let’s go.”

Practically dragging him along, you regroup with the guide who is still just absolutely beside himself. You have a little bit more small talk, are assured the entirety of the hotel could be booked out for you, they’d be happy to notify patrons who have booked rooms on the day to reschedule or stay elsewhere, which has you catching yourself before you cringe, and then he’s taking you back towards the building.

You thank him and say goodbye, telling him you’ll let him know your decision soon, (you and the whole world will find out together, bud), and then it’s just you and Steve, walking back towards his car in the huge, gravel parking lot. It’s quiet now, the hotel often has celebrity clients so no one really ogled you even when you were in the building, just a few glances and double-takes but very discreet ones, and it’s too cold for people to be milling about out here, even if they do want an autograph.

The front gates, someway down the main gravel road, won’t be quiet, though. Paparazzi had been waiting there when you’d both arrived and they’d had to back off as Steve’s car came through, but that hadn’t stopped the flashing lights and muffled shouts coming from the small crowd. You’d just kept your gaze ahead and ignoring them and thinking about what you might have for lunch had actually helped in stopping you from feeling overwhelmed.

It’s the same as you leave, the reporters now shouting if you’ve found your dream venue. Glancing at Steve as he eases the car on to the main road and you head back towards D.C, you lean your head back against the chair.

“Does that ever really get to you?”

“The press?” He glances at you and you nod before his eyes return to the road. “Sometimes. They’ve always been there, though, since I took the serum. It’s just something I got used to. Sure, there’s social media now but press tactics haven’t changed much, and I think once they realised I’m just a boring guy who only goes out for food and a jog they’ve eased off.”

You laugh, your arms folding. “You’re not boring, Steve.”

“By press standards I am. What sells more papers, me doing the same thing every day or Stark doing something different and exciting every day?”

“Oh, well, now, you’ve got me there.” You sit up a little suddenly, staring at him. “Wait, am I gonna meet him on Saturday? What has he said about all of this? Does he know? The truth?”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t see the statement?”

“No, oh, God, why...” You’re fumbling with your bag, opening it, grabbing your phone and unlocking it, (God, this takes so long now), and opening up the internet browser.

Typing Tony Stark engagement statement, you tap on the first result that includes Steve’s name.

... Stark’s full statement below, released this morning:

On behalf of all the Avengers, all of New York and all of the world and the universe, Pepper and I would like to congratulate Steve and Y/N on their engagement. We couldn’t be happier for the couple and were delighted to share in their happiness with being the first to know. If he needs any advice, Steve knows he can come to me. Y/N, may God help you. 

You groan as you lower your phone. “Oh, he knows, doesn’t he...”

“Yep.” You can hear the amusement in Steve’s tone even before you look at him. “Fury thinks he hacks into the SHIELD system every now and then just to have a look around. He knows about the threat, he and I have spoken about it, so we think he just connected the dots.”

“Well, he is a smart guy,” you mutter; the understatement of the century.

Steve drops a hand from the wheel, resting it on his thigh. “He’d probably’ve been told anyway, there has been a threat made against his building and party so Nat’s gonna work with him on security.”

“That’s comforting, at least.” Placing your bag in your lap, you place your phone back inside, being careful to tilt the bag away from him slightly so he can’t see that you brought the gun Nat had given you. 

Just in case.

Zipping your bag shut and placing it on the floor, you sit back and put the radio on, both of you soon humming along to it, Steve’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

The rest of the journey is comfortably quiet, both of you just listening to the radio and commenting every now and then on a song or singing along. A glance in the wing mirror every now and then tells you a couple of news vans and cars are following but Nat had told you to expect that and that a couple of the cars would have an agent in. They fall back somewhat as you return to the city, traffic starting to grow.

By the time you reach the cafe you can’t see any of them but you know it won’t be long before they catch up.

Well, ‘cafe’.

Nat had called it a ‘cafe’, but you would have called it a ‘fancy bistro that you, Dolly and Bridge’ would go to either on pay-day or for very special occasions’. It’s all leather booths and low, dim lighting, with black and white photographs on the walls of different places around the world along with quotes in neon lights. It even has a valet. Nat had made a reservation, though, so they’re expecting you and you’re greeted by name as you enter, the waitress beaming. She’s lovely, though, introduces herself as Charlie and is genuine in her asking of how your day is going as she leads you to the table Nat had booked for you; a booth up in the furthest corner with no other tables close to it.

After ordering your drinks and food, and snapping a quick picture because you know Bridge’ will love the interior here, you’re left alone, an indication that this place also probably serves celebrity patrons. 

With these prices I wouldn’t be surprised.

Due to the time of day, and it being a weekday, it’s quiet, the few people here either older or seemingly having business lunches. They’re all sitting quite far away from you two, but maybe Nat had requested the tables around you be kept free, probably compensating them quite handsomely for it.

It gives you a chance to talk freely, though, which is nice, but you still keep your voice low.

“This is a nice place,” you murmur as you sit back, your hands falling into your lap, “We need to start going to more upmarket places.”

He arches an eyebrow, one arm resting on the table, the elbow on the other placed on it, his hand supporting his jaw as he feigns hurt. “You don’t like our diner?”

“I love our diner, are you kidding. No, I just...” You blow a breath out, shaking your head. “I was gonna say I wish we went out more, for dinner or lunch or even breakfast, but, no, I like it when we stay in and cook.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, me, too.”

 You shrug. “Maybe we should get out more, though.” You then tilt your head. “Oh, but I like staying in. Am I making any sense?”

He exhales a laugh as he nods. “Uh, yeah, a little.” His features soften. “I understand. I like going out, too, sometimes, and feeling, well, I can’t say this in any way that doesn’t sound self-pitying, but feeling normal.”

That makes your chest ache.

“No, I know what you mean.” You widen your smile. “Do you remember that bar we went to, in the summer? The one Sam took us to? I liked that place.”

“Oh, yeah, I liked that place, too. Great prices on beer.”

Your lips twitch and you continue, “Maybe we could go to more places like that, find bars and restaurants that have people that will just... leave us be.”

“Yeah,” he nods after a moment.

Charlie returns with your drinks then, and you don’t catch that his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he sits back. After you thank her and she leaves, he says after a short pause as you both take a sip, making his smile widen and his eyebrows raising, “We should start to plan what we’re gonna say for the interview, we can probably predict the most basic questions they’ll ask.”

You catch yourself before you pull a face, lowering your drink and swallowing, licking your lips. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

  You discuss the finer details as your food arrives and you eat, the irony not lost on you and your whispering brain that yeah, you had started to develop feelings for him as you’d grown closer over the years.

But we’re not thinking about that right now.

When you finish your food and just about finalise your story, though, you’re actually quite relieved it’s quite close to the truth, it’ll make it all easier to remember. Charlie approaches with the receipt in a gold tray and places it between you, prompting you to nudge it towards him.

“Oh, he’s paying.”

“Oh, it’s already been taken care of,” she smiles, clasping her hands together.

Both of you look at her, your eyebrows raising.

“Has it?” Steve asks, and you suspect Nat is the culprit, but why—

She turns and points to a table a little way away. “That couple over there have settled the bill.”

You and Steve crane your necks to follow the direction of her finger. An elderly man and woman sit at a table, looking over and smiling warmly. The man formally salutes Steve, who, you see in the corner of your eye, returns it.

As you glance up at her, she continues, “The gentleman said you were his hero growing up, Mr Rogers, and that his father served during the war.”

Steve looks at her after a moment. “Can we pay for their meal?”

“They've already settled their bill, too.”

You watch Steve return his gaze to the couple, nodding and returning their wide, warm smile as Charlie steps away, but you can see the slightly helpless look that washes over him, knowing he’ll want to repay the debt and display his gratitude in a meaningful way.

Leaning forward, you murmur, “Go and say hello.”

His gaze darts to you. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” you smile, your features soft. “Go. They’ve been very polite but I think talking to you will make their week.”

He nods, and you know he’ll have needed that little push, that assurance that he could give something back. You watch him as he slides out of the booth and makes his way over, your smile growing as the man touches the woman’s hand and his eyes widen.

You watch them introduce themselves to Steve and shake his hand, and watch them laugh as they talk, watch Steve, relaxed and easy. A sense of pride suddenly starts to bloom within you, your stomach flipping slightly.

Your phone vibrating pulls your attention away, and you open your bag, pulling it out and unlocking it. A message from Aaron greets you. You’d swapped numbers, you finding Instagram too intimidating and daunting to go on much now, and it just makes it easier.

I hope your day’s going okay

You smile lightly, your teeth grazing over your lower lip as you reply. Putting your phone away, when you look back up, their conversation seems to be ending as Steve shakes their hands again, and then he points to you.

You smile widely and wave as they do and mouth, “Thank you so much.”

They just wave their hands dismissively, beaming. Steve returns to you as they gather their things and move towards the exit, a smile lingering on his lips.

“They seemed really nice,” you say as you get to your feet, shouldering your bag.

“They were really nice, that was a good conversation.” He continues as you both head for the exit, too, “Told me all about his dad, how he was nearly stationed near me but then he got injured.” Both of you pause as Charlie brings you your coats and you thank her for the service, both of you handing her a few notes for a tip which makes her beam.

“He was a lovely guy, he and his wife,” he says as you step out into the small porch area, adjusting your coats, Steve handing his ticket to the valet, who races off to retrieve his car. Paparazzi have spotted you, but the bistro has a small gate and hedges up, blocking them from your view. 

Looking up at him, you smile again as he does, sliding his hands into his pockets, “He congratulated me on our engagement, too, said I’m a lucky man.”

You give a faux-smug smirk even as you feel heat rise on your cheeks. “Well, duh.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you, knew it would go to your head.”

You laugh as he shakes his head, the smile rising on his lips.

“Well, you did, and I’m gonna hang on to it forever.”

You hang on to it as the valet returns and you and Steve head outside, ignoring the shouts of the paparazzi and their snapping cameras once more, (hey, this is surprisingly easy), and for the ride over to the first cake shop.

It’s just as fancy as the hotel and bistro had been, but you get the sense Nat has chosen them not for their aesthetic qualities but more for the structure and layout of their buildings. The hotel had tall gates, the front one far from the building, the bistro had gates and hedges to obscure the door, and barely any windows, and the cake shop is nearly identical to the bistro, immaculate, neat hedges at the front, a small entrance-way between them, and floor to ceiling windows only on the front wall of the store. It’s connected to another shop on one side, the other a sidewalk, so Steve is able to park right outside, giving you the opportunity to dart across the pavement, through the entrance-way and straight into the store.

No reporters or citizens were waiting for you outside, which is excellent so you automatically like the shop very much, (no snitches here, wonderful), though you know that’ll soon change, as it has to.

Think about cakes, please.

As you enter the store, an older woman approaches with a wide, warm smile and greets you by name, (I could get used to this), and directs you towards a small, grey table, giving you a moment to take a seat. You glance up and meet the gaze of the other two couples here, one looking away quickly and whispering to each other, the other smiling at you a little shyly. You return it with a wide smile, and a slight raising of your eyebrows, a look of almost, ‘Look at us, huh, choosing our wedding cakes, how exciting’.

And, God, this is; you can see samples of the cakes behind a glass display window, freshly made and brightly lit, and photographs on the walls of some of their favourite creations. The interior is also gorgeous, industrial with a classy edge.

The woman, Damilola, she introduced herself as, places a book before you that lists their flavours, some you’ve never even heard of, styles, decorations, previous creations, prices and a page with a classy version of ‘create your own’. She takes a seat with you and is delightful and warm, and you feel bad for thinking for a moment or two if it’s an act to keep clients happy.

Then again, if I worked in a cake shop I’d be happy all the time.

This is by far the easiest thing you’ve done all day, maybe in your life, you and Steve both genuinely interested in the process and asking her how long she’s worked here, (30 years and she’s the manager), and she isn’t surprised when you ask for a sample of nearly every flavour, in fact she seems quite relieved.

“People tend to go for what they know and never really experiment or try anything new.”

Lady, you’re in luck; I’m still hungry and I’m gonna get what I can out of this.

You’re given a little card book to make a note of what you liked and didn’t like but it’s barely given a glance as you and Steve tuck in to the long plates that Damilola has placed down. She’s leaves you be, so you’re free to groan, albeit quietly, with delight at nearly every mouthful. Not every one’s a winner but, hey, it’s free cake.

“Mmh, oh, Steve...” you groan after a particularly divine slice and lick the crumbs from your lips.

He just nods and hums in return, scooping up every little crumb he can with his tiny fork.

Leaning a little closer, you whisper, “I’m so in love with this place, I’m gonna buy an end of engagement cake after this, and you can expect all your birthday cakes to be from here.”

Wiping his mouth, he sits back and nods, blowing out a breath of satisfaction. “I’m not gonna complain about that. Can my birthday be every week?”

You nod enthusiastically as you lick your lips again. “Gotta start making up for some, right?”

He laughs as you smile, putting your fork down and pushing your plate away.

“Perfect, we’ve got an air-tight reason. Should we take some samples back to the apartment? Or take some from the next place?”

“Oh my God, I forgot there’s gonna be another.” You pat your stomach as you sit back, knowing you’re full... but... “... We can take some samples from here. For the sake of comparison.”

“Absolutely, the sake of comparison...” He’s already lifting his hand to get Damilola’s attention, and when she approaches with a warm smile, he orders a slice of everything you liked to go. 

Again, she’s not surprised, but smiles rather knowingly. “They’re good, aren’t they?”

“So good—”

“Honestly so delicious—”

“... Heaven...”

“... Don’t think I’ve had a better selection of cakes in my life...”

She laughs at you and Steve talking over each and heads off to box them up for you.

Resting your chin in your palm with a contented sigh, you look over at him with a smile, lowering your voice. “I have really enjoyed today.”

He looks at you and holds your gaze, one side of his mouth higher than the other. “Me, too. It hasn’t been so bad, has it?”

You follow his eye-line that briefly lifts to look out of the front windows, the tops of peoples heads and cameras just able to be seen over the hedges.

“No,” you answer, dropping your hand onto the table. “What was your favourite cake?”

He blinks slightly as your swift conversation change but doesn’t say anything, raising his eyebrows as he links his fingers together over his stomach. “Oh, now that is a tough question that’s gonna take some more sampling to determine.”

“You’re damn right there, Rogers.” Your smile widening, you look up to Damilola as she returns with two medium-sized boxes. 

You both thank her warmly and greatly as you pull your coats on and take the boxes, moving towards the exit, and ask her to give your compliments to the bakers, who have been peering out of the kitchen every few moments to get a look at Steve and see your reactions.

She promises to and that you’re welcome back any time and she looks forward to hearing your decision. You say your goodbyes as she holds the door open for you, each of you holding a box, and you step out and—

The crowd has grown. A lot. 

Swallowing lightly, you follow after Steve as you head towards it, barely able to see his car, and you lower your head slightly as you start to push through because they don’t part. Your photo from the hotel and one you took of the interior of the bistro, both of which you’d uploaded during the car rides, has obviously indicated you and Steve are out and about and are now in the city, and even if you hadn’t been uploading them, you know you’re being tailed by various media outlets and citizens. Your movements are probably being reported minute by minute.

... I wonder what people are saying.

No, stop it.

It’s too late, though. That thought, that one little thought, has embedded in your mind and just like that, the mental wall you had put up comes crumbling down.

“... comment on how you’re feeling...”

“... when’s the date set for...”

“... is it true it’s going to be...”

“... do you have anything to say about the article in the...”

“... using Steve to further your career...”

You’re listening to them now, seeing them, really seeing them. The whole day you’ve forced your mind to be blank, to think of something else, to just stare and move on, on, on, almost akin to dissociating, but you’ve lost it now and it’s overwhelming.

You’re staring into the faces of wide-eyed, shouting people, microphones and cameras, flashing lights making you blink and narrow your eyes. You realise suddenly that Steve’s taken your free hand with his and is trying to keep you close behind him, pulling you through the crowd. Some people are shouting at others, telling them to give you space, actually pushing them back, but this is so much worse than when you’d left your apartment, your actual apartment, your home, oh my God, I want to go home...

Damilola has come out of the shop to ask the crowd to move back, saying they’re blocking the way for their customers, but she can only do so much, and her voice is just barely able to be heard above the sound.

“Come on, guys, can you let us through?” you hear Steve saying, frustration seeping into his tone.

Someone in this crowd wants him dead. 

The thought comes out of nowhere, so suddenly and so sharply that a rush of breath escapes you. You don’t realise your hand is squeezing his, your nails digging into his skin.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you in front of him, his arm around your back and you realise you’re at the car, and somewhere far in your mind you’re so fucking grateful he thought ahead and parked with the passenger side against the curb. You’re pressed tight between him and the car, your back against his chest, and his arms are either side of you, shielding you in as he opens the door, moving back with you to give you space to get in. You do and as he slams the door shut you close your eyes, feeling for the seatbelt and securing it. You keep them closed even as people tap against the window, even as you hear Steve telling them to back off as he makes his way around the car, even as they keep on shouting and shouting and shouting.

Steve opens the door and gets in, slamming it shut and reaching back with his other hand to place his box on the back seat, and starts the engine as you open your eyes. When people don’t move away, he blares the horn and people start pulling others out of the way, yelling at them to move. Then there’s a gap and he’s pulling away, hissing out a string of curses, his grip tight on the steering wheel.

“Hm?” you say, your gaze darting to him as you register that he’s spoken to you.

He looks between you and the road, concern and fury trying to fight for their share across his features. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I just...”

When you don’t continue, looking at him, he nods, having seen the faint glint of desperation in your eyes.

“How about we take these cakes home and do some more testing, huh?”

You look down at your lap, forgetting you had even been holding the box and nod as you swallow, managing a smile. “That sounds like the best thing.”

“All right.” As you keep a tight grip on your bag, he presses a button on his steering wheel and says, “Call Nat.”

She answers on the first ring. “What happened?”

He shakes his head even though she can’t see it. “There was too many people, Nat. It was a fuckin’ nightmare, it was too much.”

She sighs on the other end, and there’s a note of frustration to it. “I know, I could see from where we are, we had some agents in there keeping people back but we couldn’t do too much or they’d risk blowing their cover.”

He releases a breath as he rolls his shoulders. “I know, it’s all right. We’re gonna head back to the apartment, can you cancel our reservation for the other place?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want me to come over?”

He glances at you and says a moment later, “No, we’ll be okay.”

“All right, I’ll message you.”

After she ends the call, he releases another, longer breath. You’ve kept your gaze on the dashboard, just focusing on your breathing.

There’s silence.

Then, you feel his hand back on yours, his fingers curling around it. You don’t move, you don’t say anything, either of you, but it’s so nice. It’s so grounding. Closing your eyes, you focus on it, letting it anchor you in the moment as you just breathe.

— 

“Nat says they've got their eye on a couple of suspects,” Steve says as he returns from the kitchen, handing you a drink.

You move your hand out from under the blanket and accept it with a smile, balancing it on your stomach, your fingers wrapped around it. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” He resumes his position on the other end of the couch, stretching his legs out. “She’s hopin’ tomorrow will be the indicator, see who follows you and who follows me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see Peg.”

A smile lifts your lips as you look at him. “Oh, that’ll be nice, tell her I say hello.”

“I will,” he says as the ad break ends and the next programme starts. 

You’d been watching a travel show, making a mental note of some of the places you want to run away to when this is all over. After you’d arrived back at the apartment, about an hour ago, and kicked your shoes off, put your bag and the cake box down and sat on the couch and turned the TV on, you’d flicked through some channels and settled on it and hadn’t moved since. You’d heard Steve move around in the kitchen for a few minutes before he’d joined you, handing you a drink and a blanket.

You’d both sat quietly, commenting every now and then on the places shown and how nice they were, both of you knowing you don’t want to talk quite yet about the day.

Now, though, the talk show you’d caught yesterday begins. As the opening theme plays, you exhale a breath and Steve shifts as one of the presenters talks over it, images and headlines on the screen.

Images of you and Steve from today.

“Let the wedding bells ring! It looks like our new favourite couple are deep into planning their special day!” she trills. “On the show today we’ll be giving you all the coverage of where they went and what they got up to... and the wedding date!”

Slightly shaky, zoomed in footage from someone’s phone starts to play, showing you and Steve walking back at the hotel, your arm looped through his, both of you smiling.

Ah, so someone had done more than just double-take.

Your lips twitch as Steve reaches for the remote.

“Also coming up, the must-have gift for kids this Christmas, you will not want to miss it!”

For a reason you don’t quite know, as the screen shows the presenters sat at their table, pictures of you and Steve displayed on the small screens behind them, a laugh escapes you. 

Steve’s gaze darts to you as he pauses and you laugh again. "What?”

Unable to stop a smile, you rub your face with your hands with a slight groan. “This is just so dumb.”

He glances at the screen, which shows the presenters poring over a copy of the menu from they bistro they must have printed off, and the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Are you kidding me, this is top-notch journalism,” he says, just as the woman declares with a laugh, “... well, I’d’ve had the salad and a margarita!”

You burst out laughing into your hands as you simultaneously groan and cringe, Steve’s chuckling only fuelling you on.

It’s a good minute or so before you both calm down, Steve looking at you with a grin, his arms folded as you blow out a breath and wipe your eyes. He opens his mouth to say something when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the screen lighting up.

Clearing you throat as your smile lingers, you glance at it and see you have a notification so you lean over to try and get it. You fall just short, though, and you groan, looking at him.

“Help mee...”

“All right, all right, I got it...” Sighing mock-exasperatedly, he sits forward and leans over, lifting it and handing it to you.

He catches who the message is from.

"Thank you kindly,” you say as you sit up, reading the message.

Sitting back, he says it before he can stop himself. “Aaron, is that the door guard at our place?”

Oh.

“Yeah.” You don’t want to elaborate, and you reply to the message quickly before you lock your phone, dropping it into your lap, and look up at Steve... and there’s a slightly teasing smile on his lips.

“You like Aaron, huh?”

“No...” you scoff, folding your arms, and he just arches an eyebrow, making your mouth open and close. “... Maybe a little.”

 “All right.”

“Don’t start—”

His widening smile is accompanied by a tilt of his head and both eyebrows raising. “Hey, I owe you for all those Sharon jokes.”

You had ribbed him about that. A lot.

You pull a face as you make a begrudgingly agreeing sound, and he chuckles, his arm resting on the back of the couch. Looking at you, he speaks after a moment.

“I’m sorry that this is ruining starting something with him.”

You blink at him, your lips parting, before you snort quickly, waving your hand dismissively. “Oh, no, don’t be silly. I just like him, it’s just a crush, doesn’t mean I actually want to have a relationship with him. Everyone has those kind of crushes, don’t you?”

Did I say that too quickly.

He looks at you for a few moments, then his eyebrows raise a little. “Ah... Well, yeah, a couple, possibly.”

“Who?”

Now I definitely said that too quickly.

He shrugs a shoulder, rubbing a hand against his jaw. “Couple of people at work.”

“Well,” you smile, tilting your head, “Sorry if this is ruining anything for you with them.”

He chuckles as he shakes his head. “Well, sounds like we’ve got options once the break up’s announced.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, perhaps a touch too forcefully.

There’s silence.

“Well,” you say a little loudly, pushing the blanket off of you and sliding your legs off of the couch, “I think I’m gonna go and take a nap. Cake tasting is exhausting.”

“Who knew, huh?”

He smiles as he watches you go. It fades a little as you ascend the stairs.

A crush these days meant you didn’t want a relationship?

He doesn’t just have a crush, then.

—

Comments and reblogs make my day in a way I can’t describe.

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Tagged: @herb-welch, @jobean12-blog, @gifsbysimplysonia, @multireality, @saltyspiceduh, @sergeantangel, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky, @dispatchvampire, @superapplepie, @rynabarnesrogers-reading, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @imaginedreamwrite, @thesefleshfailures, @mrsbarnes32557038, @tellthemall-i-saidhi​, @tacohead13​, @opalsandlace​, @notsomellowmushroom​, @river-soul, @ollypopp​

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female plus size reader #marvel fanfic #my writing #flamehairedwritings

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together? thank you so much xxx”

AN: This is a multi-part series--I couldn’t help myself! Also, I based this fic around something Gerard said in a Rolling Stone interview:

Hope its ok Anon! enjoy!

You had dreamed of this moment since you first picked up a guitar. Back then it felt like an impossible fantasy, being on stage with your band, playing in front of a crowd of screaming fans; which is why it felt so surreal when your manager Tim told you that your band, The Violent Delights, had booked Warped Tour.

"June 18th," he told you with a satisfied grin, "you're in for the long haul, kids."

Your band-mates let out a collective shriek of joy, while you planted a grateful kiss on Tim's cheek.

"You're an OK manager, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, dramatically wiping his cheek where your lips had been. "Now you guys better get practicing. This is a good opportunity to really get your name out there. Plus you got some real popular acts to compete with."

Your interest was peaked. "Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Off the top of my head? Fall Out Boy, Dropkick Murphys, and I think a band called My Chemical Romance."

"Oh shit, My Chem?" your bassist, Gavin, piped up excitedly. "That's the band I'm always trying to get Y/N to listen to."

"I'll have to finally borrow their last album," you replied, "gotta scope out the competition after all." Gavin rolled his eyes while you laughed.

Your manager got serious. "It's three months on the road, and its gonna take a lot of energy and hard work. Quite frankly, it ain't glamorous."

"Tim, when have we ever been glamorous? I wouldn't care if it were a 12 month tour," you declared, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world." Liz, your drummer, nodded in agreement beside you.

"You might be singing a different tune when you haven't had a shower in three days."

"As long as I'm singing it in front of an audience, we'll be fine."

* * *

Back at your apartment you marked June 18th on your calendar with a star, feeling invigorated with excitement all over again. This was it, you thought, the next level for our band. You were determined to give it your very best, outperforming every other band there.

After all, you had worked so hard to get to this point. Starting in friend's basements and tiny cafes, the band had slowly built up a sizable following of loyal fans. You were no longer the opening act, drawing sell out crowds more often than not. You made a promise to yourself that the band wasn't going to lose this momentum. There would be no distractions for you on this tour, just hard work and the thrill of performing. That meant no parties, and absolutely no boys. You weren't ready for another relationship, you told yourself, especially since the last one ended in disaster.

Yes, this was the moment the band had been waiting for. You let the warm excitement that this knowledge brought envelope you, and you lay your head down on your pillow, falling asleep to fantasies of what lay ahead.

* * *

Its a long road from Maryland to Ohio. Columbus was the first stop of the tour, which meant your band had 6 and a half hours to go over the set-list, make adjustments  discuss their hopes and fears for the three month experience. Gavin gave you a few CDs to listen too, including My Chemical Romance's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.  You had heard their first album ages ago and enjoyed it, but there was something incandescent to the music you were hearing now. It stirred a whirlwind of heavy emotion, and you were enthralled from beginning to end. You made a mental note to see them perform at Warped as soon as possible.

When your bus arrived at its destination, you felt the unwelcome buzz of nerves building in your stomach. This was real, you thought, this was happening. You were used to performing at this point, but it was the amount of people you'd be performing for that was nerve-wracking. Not to mention the fellow artists who may be watching and judging your sound. You breathed deep and tried to push past the nervous thoughts that hummed incessantly around your head like insects.

Your band-mates were buzzing about with excitement, but you needed to distract yourself. Fresh air always helped settle you, so you grabbed your shoes and decided to go for a walk around the venue.

It looked almost like a circus with all the trailers and tents that had quickly populated the surrounding area. Merch stands and catering tents were being organizes as dozens upon dozens of vans and trailers pulled in. There were already a few fans camped outside of the chain-link fence that surrounded the area, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of their favorite artists.

You kept wandering, and you saw that a band was being interviewed in the media tent. There were five of them, each holding a microphone; but one member, a dark haired boy, was doing most of the talking. He was cute, you thought, and your stomach did little flips watching him respond to the questions that were being asked.

You watched a little bit longer from a distance, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Gavin and Liz, who had been doing a bit of exploring as well.

"Hey, there you are! I was talking to a few people by the catering tent. They said some bands are having a party on their buses later tonight, we should check it out." Gavin informed you excitedly.

You hesitated. No parties. "I dunno, I want us to be in good condition to perform tomorrow."

Liz chimed in. "All work and no play, Y/N. C'mon, it'll be a great chance to make some connections with other bands."

"If you don't come with us," Gavin pronounced dramatically, "we'll be far too devastated to perform tomorrow." His hand went to his forehead, as though he was about to faint.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Pretty please?" Liz stuck her lower lip out pathetically.

"With sugar on top?" Gavin added.

You glanced at the black haired boy in the distance. Maybe he'd be there, a small voice in your head piped up.

"Ugh Fine! But I'll only stay for a little bit."

Satisfied, the pair stopped harassing you, and left you to continue wandering, promising to meet up with them later.

* * *

People spilled out from open trailers as music blared from an unknown source in the background. Some were already far gone, stumbling from place to place, or lying on the ground blacked out.

You followed Gavin inside one of the trailers. You watched as he interacted with the strangers inside with ease, a trait you envied. He managed to find you both drinks, and you grabbed the mystery beverage, sculling it in hopes that it would numb your nervousness. You may have been a great performer onstage, but offstage it was easy for your social anxiety to take the wheel.

Gavin began to walk away, ignoring your whispered pleas not to leave you. Fuck. It always felt awkward to not know anyone at a party. You clutched your red cup like a life jacket keeping you afloat in a sea of drunken strangers.

A man approached you out of nowhere, the smell of alcohol emanating from every pore on his body.

"You look lonely." He leered at you expectantly.

"Then it seems like you need glasses. I'm just fine on my own."

He laughed. "Ooo! I like you. You've got spunk. Name's Brent, guitarist from Midnite Heist."

"Can't say I've heard of you guys."

Brent was either oblivious to your indifference, or just chose to ignore it. "So how'd you end up at this party?"

"I'm in a band on the tour too. Lead singer actually."

"No way! That's awesome, we need more talented eye candy on this tour."

You screamed internally while he droned on, tuning him out as you continued to sip from your fast emptying cup.

You scanned the room, watching people laugh and dance. Your stomach suddenly flipped again as you noticed the black haired boy from this afternoon, solemn faced and quiet, silently nursing a diet coke in his hands. He was clearly not having a good time. The guitarist who had been talking you up soon saw you looking at the sullen figure and turned his attention towards him, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Gerard fucking Way!" he bellowed, carelessly sloshing his drink as he waved him over, causing a stream of alcohol to fall to the floor below.

Gerard seemed to hesitate before walking over. "It's been awhile man," he said softly. His eyes, a warm hazel, flicked to you repeatedly as he spoke. "you here for the whole tour this time?"

Brent laughed, his sobriety dangling by a thread.  "Yeah, but still not up on the main stage, unlike you big-shots." he said, punching Gerard in the arm. Gerard offered a crooked smirk in return, his patience already wearing thin. Brent nudged you in the arm. "This is Y/N, her band is new to Warped. I told her I'd show her the ropes." He grinned at you. Ugh.

Gerard seemed to sense your discomfort. "Welcome, nice to see a new face around."

Brent interrupted before you could respond. "How come you're wasting time with a coke? I would've expected you to be the first one wasted here."

Gerard's jaw clenched, and you cringed internally at the sheer awkwardness of the encounter. "I'm sober now," he informed Brent, "I don't touch that shit anymore."

Brent laughed dismissively. "Dude, you?  Do you even remember the last Warped tour? I'll give it 2 days before you're lying face down in the bushes again." he laughed as if he had just said something hilarious.

You were livid, and Gerard was on edge. You decided to step in when you noticed his knuckles turn white from clenching his coke can.

You moved slightly, ready to get between them. "Hey you know what? I'd really love a coke right now too. Mind showing me where they are?" you looked pleadingly at Gerard. He took the hint.

"Follow me."

You gave a curt wave to Brent, who looked on in confusion before continuing his drinking binge.

You stepped outside, and the sounds from the party behind you became a faint, thumping buzz in the background. You were both silent for a moment before you decided to break the ice.

"So that guy was a dick."

Gerard's scowl turned into a thin, lopsided smirk. Your heart melted a bit. "Yeah. I just realized some of these people are only tolerable when I'm drunk."

Stop. Move away. You don't need a distraction like this. You tried to scold yourself but words kept escaping from your lips, prolonging the encounter.

"This is my first time doing Warped Tour, but I'm assuming these parties are pretty much never-ending?"

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Oh yeah, its every night for some of these bands. You're in for an interesting experience." You looked at him for a moment, perhaps for a bit too long. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful while surrounded by clouds of smoke.

"Yoohoooo! Y/N!" you heard the hollering of a clearly tipsy Gavin call from the doorway of the next trailer. "Where'd you go? The night is young! Get back here!"

You sighed. "That's my cue. Well actually that's my bassist, but he'll never let me live it down if I don't go back in there."

Gerard turned his head to the side and exhaled. "Catch you around. Next time you need rescuing from a douche-bag just light the bat signal."

You gave him a soft smile, forcing yourself to turn away and walk back to the trailer. As you did, you whispered aloud to yourself as a reminder:

"No distractions. No boys."

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #fanfic