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heavyhitterheaux · 9 months

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That's Not Daddy

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: There is never a dull moment in the Harlow household and the triplets are around three in this

Synopsis: Jack decides to trim his beard and his triplets don't recognize him

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 💕

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Ivy?”

“Yes, daddy?” She answered Jack as she was playing with her dolls on the living room floor in front of him. Only the two of them were home since you took Axel and Autumn with you to the grocery store to get things for the week. Ivy didn’t want to go and truth be told Jack didn’t either so he decided to stay home and entertain her.

“Do you want to help me trim my beard?”

She eagerly nodded since anything that Jack did, she was absolutely obsessed with.

“We’re going to surprise mommy, but I lowkey have a feeling that she’s going to want to divorce me, but we’ll see.”

Ivy just looked at him seeing that she had no idea what the word divorce meant and simply shrugged her shoulders.

Ivy led the way to the bathroom in the master bedroom and Jack picked her up to sit her on the counter as he found his clippers in order to get started.

He was working on the left side of his face as Ivy was watching him in awe and immediately exclaimed that she wanted to help.

“Help you, daddy?”

“Of course, bubs, here.”

Jack still held a tight grip on it so Ivy wouldn’t end up cutting him as she placed her small hand on it to guide it over Jack’s face.

Once both sides were finished, Ivy’s eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked as he was cleaning up the sink in the bathroom and all Ivy was doing was staring at him.

“Ivy, baby, what’s wrong?” He asked again as he tried to pick her up to place her back down on the ground and she scooted away from him.

“Oh, you don’t recognize me without all the facial hair, huh? Ivy it’s me, daddy.”

She immediately shook her head no and began to cry and hopped down off of the counter in the bathroom herself and took off running.

“Ivy!”

Jack then heard the doorbell and went downstairs to see that it was Urban and Clay and quickly let them in.

“What the? Where’s your beard?! Did you accidentally cut it like I did when I had to literally shave my entire face?” Urban asked while looking at his best friend.

Clay was just staring at him and shaking his head.

“Wifey is going to be so mad at you.”

“She might divorce me, but we’ll see and no I didn’t accidentally cut it. Ivy helped me, but now she doesn’t recognize me and took off running after I was finished.”

Urban turned to the steps to see his oldest godchild sitting in the middle of the staircase and quickly made a motion for her to come to him.

“Come here, Ivy. Did your daddy scare you?” Urban asked as she came closer to him and picked her up.

She held onto him tighter as Jack came closer to him and she began crying again.

“Jack! Now she’s scared of you!”

“And the crazy thing is that she sat there and watched me do it and now all of a sudden she wants to switch it up. It be your own kids.”

“I mean, you do look like you’re twelve.” Clay added and Jack immediately rolled his eyes.

“Like you’re one to talk. You shaved yours last week and were walking around here looking like a fetus.”

The door suddenly opened and Axel and Autumn ran inside to see Clay and Urban and went straight to them, not paying Jack any attention.

Clay picked up Axel while Autumn looked at Jack in confusion wondering who the strange man that was in her house was.

“Come here, Autumn. It’s daddy.” Jack held out his arms, but she immediately shook her head no.

“That’s not daddy.” She quietly responded, but not being confident in her answer.

“Yes it is, bubs.”

“No. His face is almost naked.”

“Don’t do it,Autumn, he’s an imposter.” Clay said and Jack immediately gave him a look which led to her hiding behind Clay’s leg and starting to cry.

“Good lord, now you got two out of three crying.”

“Soon it will be all four of them once wifey sees him.”

And right on cue, you stepped into the house with a few bags in your hands and once your eyes landed on your husband, they dropped to the floor and the entire room was silent.

“Please divorce him for this so I can slide my way in.” Clay quietly said while your eyes hadn’t left Jack’s yet and Axel’s eyes had now landed on Jack seeing where your gaze led to and he began to get upset and cry.

“What happened to my chair?” You quietly asked while not believing what you were seeing and taking Jack’s face in your hands.

“Aye yo!” Urban exclaimed before laughing and trying to calm Ivy down.

“Baby, I just trimmed it!”

“I’m about to call the police because my husband is missing and now you got all three of my kids crying and upset because they don’t recognize you!”

“Ivy helped me do it!”

“Don’t blame this on her! I know that this was all you because you love stressing me out!” You said while picking up the bags and heading into the kitchen with Jack hot on your trail.

“Babyyyy.”

“Yes? Man that I have never seen in my entire life who broke into my house.”

“I-..... seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I always play with your beard and now what?! I don’t have anything to play with AND I love the way it feels when I sit on your face, but NO of course you had to go and mess up a good thing. Oh my gosh, I have to call Maggie and tell her what you did.”

“WHAT?! BABY, IT GROWS BACK!”

“No, we’re done. I understand our vows said till death do us part HOWEVER I should have included till Jack has no facial hair do us part.”

“I still have some!”

“I need an emergency therapy session for this.”

Clay and Urban were simply looking at both of you and trying not to laugh as Jack was trying to lean down and kiss you, but you were fighting him off.

“NO! Don’t touch me, intruder! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Not her screaming stranger danger! I cannot with you.” Urban responded while shaking his head.

“Come on, baby. I guarantee you that my lips still feel the same up here and down below.”

“Ew, spare us the details.” Clay said as he finally got Axel and Autumn to calm down.

“Maybe if they see you kiss her, they won’t be as scared.” Urban suggested as he now set Ivy down who came over to you and hugged your leg.

“Take one for the team, baby. The team meaning our kids.” Jack said while wiggling his eyebrows and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“You look like a naked mole rat.”

“Babe! You are aware that when we first started dating that I didn’t have a beard, right?”

“If you had a full blown beard at fifteen, I would have thought something was wrong with you.”

“Come on baby and pucker up.”

“I swear the three of them have no idea what I go through to keep this household in one piece.” You muttered before reaching up to kiss Jack.

“MOMMY, THAT’S NOT DADDY!” Axel exclaimed and all you did was sigh.

“Yes it is, Ax. That’s daddy, I promise.”

“He looks funny.” He tried to quietly whisper to Clay, but you still heard him.

“Same thing I said, but he brought it on himself, so what can we do?” You said in response and Jack just gave you a blank stare.

“I’m tired of my wife and kids throwing me under the bus.” Jack quietly said before reaching down to pick up Ivy and she actually let him hold her.

“Daddy?” She quietly asked while looking at his blue eyes that resembled hers.

“Yes, Ivy?”

“Don’t do that again.”

“I second that.” You responded and Jack couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x you #jack harlow concepts #first babies of pg

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amyfreak111 · 10 months

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Hooking Up at Macys

I've told this story many times and it always seems to be a hit. Someone asked me once in a chat group, "what is the most random sexual encounter you've every had?" I didn't have to think too long.

First, the background. I'm a quad amputee...that means I'm missing all my limbs. I lost them when I was 18 to meningitis. To be specific, my legs are both very short -- about 10 inches long. My arms end just below my elbows so, I have elbow function which, quite frankly, is a Godsend because it gives me so much more control than I would have without them. Now, since my legs are so short, I really never use prosthetic legs and rely on a wheelchair to get around. I do use prosthetic arms and have come to rely on them very heavily. I use body powered hook prosthetics which means I don't rely on any electronics or batteries to open and close the hooks...just cables connected to a harness that I can manipulate with my shoulders. Okay, so that's the image. Not a pretty one although I am, as I've been told, very attractive. I manage to stay trim and have been blessed with good genes.

Now, I'm not into labels but I guess I'd say I'm bi-sexual. I have always been with guys and girls ever since I started exploring sex. To be fair, I've been mostly with women the last 5 or so years so, maybe I'm a lesbian? I don't know...I don't care.

Given my disability, I do maintain a high degree of independence. I drive, go shopping, and otherwise enjoy a robust social life. A few years ago I was bitching about my wardrobe and decided to head out shopping. The local mall had a Macy's and I usually find decent deals there so, I headed over. I made my way to the women's department and started looking through the various racks of tops. A very nice older store clerk saw me and offered to help but, I was okay so I thanked her and declined.

I went back to my browsing and wheeled around a rack and bumped into someone. "I'm sorry!" I said without really seeing who I bumped into. The woman turned around and saw me and immediately said "oh, no worries." She was gorgeous. She was about 40 with the body of a 20 year old. She was tall, slender with dark hair and a face that reminded me of Selma Hyak. She was wearing a simple white blouse that was very low cut and a very tight, short skirt. She looked like she was shopping on her lunch break from work.

What really struck me about her was how she looked at me. Typically, I get a lot of stares -- mostly at my hooks or my wheelchair. But, this look was directly into my eyes which gave me a real "vibe" if you know what I mean. I brushed it off and went back to my browsing. As I was browsing, I kept noticing her glancing over at me. She seemed to follow me as I went rack to rack. As I browsed, I pulled a few items off the rack and draped on my chair. I headed to the changing room to try them. As I wheeled over, I noticed my friend right behind me with a similar load of things to try on. The clerk who managed the fitting room helped me in and led me to the very last booth on the right as it was larger than all the others and would probably be easier with the chair and all. I told her I'd be a while (for obvious reasons) and she was gracious and said take all the time you need...just yell if you need anything.

I started to take off my top which can be a slow process with hooks. But, I'm well practiced now so, I manage to get through 3 of the 5 items when I heard someone from outside the booth exclaim, "Shit!" I chuckled and said..."are you okay?"

"I need an opinion", came a reply. It sounded like my hot friend. "I'm desperate. I have a party right after work and I need to look great for the new boss. I just can't decide if what I'm wearing too much. Would you mind telling me what you think?" she said.

I paused for a second as I thought it was a little odd but, she was so hot, I didn't mind. "Sure...give me a sec." I started to open the door to the stall and there she was right in the doorway. "Oh, I'll come in, it'll be easier," she said. I rolled back and she stepped all the way in. She stood right in front of me and I was looking up at her lovely figure enjoying the view.

"I know this is odd, but I'm really in need of woman's perspective and judging by the way the girl who runs the changing room is dressed, you're it."

I laughed out loud, "Sure, no problem" I said.

"Thanks, you're a savior!" she exclaimed. "Now, I have this top." She held up a red knit top that looked very thin against her chest.

"That might be a little too clingy...its hard to tell", I said.

"Oh. Ok, I'll just put it on." she said without hesitation. She went about taking off her white blouse and revealed a very ample bosom. Her breasts were perfect and I started to feel a little warm. She was quick to put on the red knit top and as I suspected, it outlined every curve of her top.

"Oh, that's lovely." I said.

"Not too much?" she asked.

"No. To be honest, its perfect!" She must have caught the lust in my voice because she paused and gave me a little inquizative look.

"Hmm. Based on your reaction, I think I'm making the right impression."

"Oh, absolutely," I said staring at her chest.

"Maybe you should help me take this off," she offered.

"Oh, I would want my hooks to ruin it. These things are great for a lot but not with fragile knit-ware," I said.

"Hmm. I can think of one or two things you could do with them that might be interesting," she said very suggestively. My eyes lit up at that point and I felt my face turning a little flush. "Oh how cute are you!" she said seeing how .

She then grabbed by right hook and guided it to her tummy. "Hmm. It's not cold like I thought it would be," she said referring to my hook. "I wonder how this would feel in my pussy." That was it. She put it right out there so, I went for it. I took my left hook and rotated my right hook so the fingers were pointing up. I then lifted her skirt with my left hook and gently pressed my right hook up against her pussy through her panties and moved it back and forth.

"Oh my! You are a horny little thing," she said. I just looked up with a little pout. Then, she reached down and pulled up her skirt and moved her panties to the side revealing her lovely vagina. I wasted no time and slowly pushed my right hook as far in as I could and began moving back and forth. She moaned in pleasure.

As I moved my hook back and forth I was grinding against cushion of my wheelchair. I was so turned on. She then leaned over and reached her hand down to my waist slipped her hand into my shorts and quickly went to work fingering me. I was out of my mind with pleasure. She used her other hand to push my hook deeper into her pussy and let out the most guttural moan.

We were both fully engaged and lost in our mutual pleasure. Kissing, fingering...it was all so good. I remember trying to keep quiet but being unable to keep my ecstasy contained. Then, as if we were both programmed, we came together. We both quivered and shook and I could feel my seat cushion getting drenched.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed as she started to gather herself.

"Oh my god is right," I replied.

"That was amazing...but...uh...I..I have to go," she said shakily.

"Wait...what's your name? Can I call you?" I asked.

"Uh...I'm sorry...I just have to go." And with that she left the changing booth and ran off. I was so confused and wanting for more of her. She was so hot and turned on ... I just couldn't understand why she bolted off like that.

Over the next few weeks, I kept going back to that store around lunch time on the chance that I might run into her, but I never did. Every night I would replay that encounter in my head and end up getting off using my hooks.

#hooks #prosthetics

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crmsnmth · 10 days

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September Sky Chapter Seven, Part 1

"It is too. Hear me out," I said, almost spilling the cup of coffee sitting on the metal table in front of me. I was animated.

"Fine, I'll hear this crazy theory," Chad cut his laughter. We were meeting with Alana in a few hours. Chad had come early intentionally so we could hang out for a bit, just the two of us. Catch up. And we had done that, and now things were back to as if there never was any distance in this friendship.

"How can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad? Trying hard not to smile, though I feel bad. I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral. Can't understand what I mean? Well, you soon will. That's all I should have to say. He's basically saying he's going to laugh at her funeral. The narrator of the song killed her. In each chorus he's telling you what stage he's at." We were sitting outside a local cafe called Fuel. It was a coffee shop on steroids, and their coffee was a hundred times better than the chain store Collectivo Coffee. It wasn't even a contest.

"You need to go outside more," Chad said deadpan. Chad was a bigger guy, but then again everyone seemed bigger than me. His shoulder length hair was held back in a high ponytail. A thick yet trimmed and taken care of beard covered the bottom half of his face. Without it, his face matched that of a five year old's. He was dressed in all black. The uniform of the alternative children.

"That's your reply? Come on. That song is about a domestic murder. Otherwise that line is pointless."

"Have you listened to the lyrics? I think it's supposed to be pointless."

"That's what I always thought too, but then I really listened to it. It's about murder, dude." I will die on this hill. That song is 100% about a domestic murder. Do not try me, I will argue this forever.

"You're really stretching. The verses aren't about murder. They don't even make sense." Chad said, taking a drink of his coffee. It didn't matter that it was close to 80 degrees out, we were still drinking hot coffee. Outside and in the sun, even. Fuel always put up some metal tables and some very uncomfortable metal chairs.

"Exactly. They're to throw you off the actual words. The verses weren't ever supposed to make sense. It's just adrenaline rushed nonsense. Just a distraction to the chorus and bridges." Every table outside was full. But it was also a nice day out. People walked up and down the sidewalks. Somewhere near, music was pumped into the air.

"You really need to get outside. Leave the house sometimes." Chad said.

"I do."

"I mean, more than just Addison's place and work."

"I'm at Fuel right now."

"Would you be here if I wasn't here?"

"It's possible. Hey, I have three places I could be in. There's nothing wrong with that." I said defiantly.

"You think of some weird shit." Chad laughed.

"So I've been told."

A couple walking hand and hand passed by our table. They were talking with exaggerated movements. For once I smiled at seeing it. It may not have been all that much of a change, but even a subtle change towards being healthier was a plus. The fact that I could see a couple and not feel the deep dark well open up in my stomach was a huge fact to me.

"How's things been with Addison anyway?" Chad asked

"Really good. I invited her to tag alone if she wanted, but she's on-call so she really can't."

"On call?"

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aresite · 1 year

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Warm up drabble

15 Years ago...

A young child sat there on the stump and looked down at her lap. her hands were clenched tightly in her heavy woolen skirt. Her bandaged feet could be seen peeking out at the bottom of the skirt, and she ended up fixating on that instead of looking up - she didn’t dare look up - she could already sense the sneer across the other’s face.

“Home?“ The man echoed her question, “This is your home now, Erya.“

The girl finally looked up. The man who stood across from her was a large, heavy-set man with a thick beard and a heavy brow. His fur coat, large brimmed hat, and the way he looked down at her over the fur trim made him seem like a giant... and made her feel very small.

“But I want to go home-home.“ Erya tried to meet the big man’s eyes, “My fami-“ “This is your home now.“ The man sternly interrupted. He sighed, and then continued with a mock pity in his tone, “Don’t you remember, child? Your Family sold you to us. They didn’t want you. And you should be grateful we did instead or you could have ended up in a Brothel or alone on the streets. Without us, you have nowhere to go.“

Erya’s eyes watered and she fought back a sob. She didn’t know what a Brothel was, but the idea of being alone was more scary to her than the hours she spent a day with the older girls of the Troupe learning how to dance.

The man then walked over and patted her head, “Now now. None of that. our hospitality isn’t that bad, is it? We’ve fed you, we’ve clothed you, and we’ve treated you like one of our own. We want you here, they did not. You should be thanking us for our generosity, not asking to leave.”

Erya sniffled and nodded. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her and suddenly she felt really foolish for asking the man to take her back home... Even though it had been about a year since she was ‘sold’ to the Rovers... she still found it hard to believe her family didn’t want her. Not once did she get that opinion from her parents... they told her how much they loved her every day. But... the more time that went on and they didn’t come for her, and the more she heard from the Chief and the others about how they sold her to them and didn’t want her... the more she started to believe it.

“And?“ The man snapped. Erya flinched, and nodded again, “T-thank you...” “That’a girl.” The man grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back to her feet, and then started directing her towards the door, “Now go on - go make yourself useful and stop bothering me.”

Erya let him lead her out into the chilly winter air outside his Vardo. She flinched again as the cold wind hit her. She heard the door slam behind her and fought to keep her shoulders steady. She didn’t have much time to process anything though, because the moment the door slammed, a boy came bursting from the bushes nearby.

The boy was tall for his age but very thin and rather gangly. He had shaggy black hair, and bright green eyes. His ragged clothes were in worse shape than her own and looked like they barely held back the cold - but despite that, his smile was warm and helped comfort her.

“Erya!“ His smile disappeared as he ran over to her, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to but I heard everything and I-“ He cut himself off when he saw her burst into tears and without meaning too, she leaned forward to hug him.

The boy hesitated for a moment and an awkward look crossed his face. After a second or two, he reached up to pat her back.

“I don’t want to be here forever!“ Erya cried. The boy pulled back from her, “You don’t have to be!” “But the Chief is right...“ Erya hiccupped, “I’ve got nowhere else to go... Mama and Papa didn’t want me...“

The boy hesitated for a moment, and then a mischievous smile crossed his face, and he reached out for her hand, “Follow me!”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and tugged her along after him. Erya gasped as she was pulled from the steps of the Vardo and into the frozen grass below. The Kumpania had been parked in a large meadow somewhere near the edge of a forest. Erya had no idea where they were, but the trees here were tall and spaced apart with white bark and had no branches on two-thirds of their trunks. As usual, the whole troupe had parked their wagons in a spiral centering around one large bonfire where almost everyone was currently gathered for warmth - but instead of leading her further into the spiral, he lead her outwards.

Erya hesitated as they reached the last wagon. Her hand slipped from his as she came to a stop, and he in turn stopped to turn and look back around at her. She felt a new wave of guilt pass over her as she stared at his confused expression.

“I’m not allowed out of the Camp.“ She frowned. “Me neither.“ He replied with that same, mischievous smile, “But it’ll be fine as long as no one finds out!“ She frowned at him, which only made his smile broaden, “C’mon! I wanna show you something!“

Erya looked down at her feet, but as she did he reached out and grabbed her hand. She startled, and looked back up to find him staring right at her with an intent look.

“I promise, I’ll protect you.“ There was a seriousness to his tone that betrayed the look on his face and for some reason it comforted her. She sucked in a deep breath and nodded.

Immediately the boy turned around and pulled her into the trees. He broke into a run and she was forced to run along behind him in order to keep up. Her feet still hurt from the hours of training and the cold seeping through the bottom of her boots made her want to cry, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself too.

After a quick run, the two burst out the other side of the trees, and Erya found herself staring at a wide open plains. Snow dusted the tall grass in the distance, and ice particles hung in the air in a misty sheen. There were only a few trees dotted here and there and their bare branches gave the whole look an eerie, yet beautiful feel.

“Wow...“ Erya whispered. “Yeah!“ The boy cheered. He turned to look at her, “They call this place the Wild!“ He sat himself down in the frosty grass and looked out into the distance, “I’ve heard the Adults say it stretches all across Galar! But no one seems to know how far it actually goes! But one day, I’m gunna find out!“

Erya gave him a curious look, “But... we’re not allowed to, are we?” “Nope.“ He didn’t seem bothered by that though, and shrugged, “But they can’t tell us what to do forever. One day, we’re gunna be adults, and then we can go wherever we want! We don’t have to stay here forever!“

Erya smiled and sat down beside him, “But what would we do out there?” The boy looked thoughtful. He crossed his legs and without looking back at her he replied, “I dunno... but... I keep having this strange dream. I keep dreaming I’m out there - traveling the world and collecting Pokemon friends and battling people! I don’t really know what it means... but one day, I’m gunna find out!” “That sounds like fun.“ Erya sighed. She folded her legs up and wrapped her arms around it, “I want to go too.“ “You can!“ The boy turned towards her with an eager grin, “You, and Olli too! We’ll go out there and see the world some day!“ “Promise?“ Erya murmured, “I promise!“ He cheered.

Erya rested her chin on her knees, “Thank you, Ares.”

#tw: gaslighting #long post #really long post #working on getting back into character by writing out some backstory stuff #idk if it will work but I figured I'd give it a try #though I am not sure how writing the brats before their emotional damage has settled in will help me get back into character #but here we are #warm up drabble

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theretirementstory · 6 months

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Bonjour et bienvenue. Brrrr it’s a cooler morning this morning 7c and thermometer is not expected to rise above 13c today. To make matters worse my hair is coming out thick and fast again (well I knew it would) so yesterday I donned a turban. Just as well I was only in the house as still having some hair made the turban move around on my head. Now the biggest reason for wanting to cover my head right now is not because of the thin hair that is left, nothing to do with keeping my head warm but more to do with the fact that my hairline is receding and I look remarkably like Kelly Brook with a Tefal head (give it a google).

It has been another busy week, well that’s my life here I guess and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So my normal Monday morning is going to be the cleaner doing her “white tornado” impersonation however I also had Nicolas my jardinier/paysagiste here to trim the hedges and prune the cherry tree. He arrived promptly at 8:30 and by 9 a.m. I wondered why I couldn’t hear the buzz of his hedge cutter. Well I looked outside and (poor lad) had been caught by my neighbour who can talk for France. Thankfully they took the hint and work commenced. All went well until Nicolas started to fill his dustbin with the cuttings and was taking them round to his truck at the front of the house when up popped the neighbour again and proceeded to continue the conversation!! After a short time, I went outside to see for myself and my neighbour gave me a cheery “Bonjour” and a big smile! Now this is where my French really failed me as I wanted to rant “I am paying for his time so can you just “buzz off” and let him get on with his work!” Instead I just said “Bonjour” and turned on my heel, went back inside and slammed the front door. Anyway, the work was completed and I must say that having the Weigela at the front of the house chopped down to just a metre high may not do a lot for the birds who liked to congregate there (and poop all over my gates) but it means that I now have a better view of the colline from my front door.

Monique messaged and asked if I needed anything on Tuesday (no I had just been shopping in the morning) but I did say just come down to see me. Then I remembered that I needed some more bottled water so asked if she could get some on the way. It was almost five o’clock when she arrived, fortunately I had prepared my dinner which I have after taking tablets at 6pm. I must say I was not best pleased at the late hour, she explained that she had seen a man she knew in the supermarket and they had spent time talking (no it wasn’t my neighbour 😂). In the evening I discovered a “fuite” (leak) from somewhere within the central heating boiler, plus the boiler was not igniting when I turned on the kitchen tap, I have to use the tap in the downstairs toilet to ignite it. I rang the plumber and told him so he will pop out on Thursday morning.

Wednesday was a day just for me which was quite wonderful.

Not sure what time the plumber would arrive, I was up before my alarm on Thursday morning, washed, dressed and ready for the day. Just as well I was as my cleaner rang to say she was running late (arrived about 9:30) then, knock me down with a feather, if she didn’t start pulling the tv unit, hi-fi unit, sofas etc out so she could vacuum and wash the floor. She only did that a week ago and considering they hadn’t been moved for sometime at that point there wasn’t a lot of dust behind/under. Then she was on the steps cleaning the top of the dresser again! Holy smoke it hadn’t been rubbed down for longer than I care to remember when she did it last week. She mentioned washing the windows again and I said no, once a month would do! Oh she was doing my head in (I am going to have to take myself outside or upstairs when she comes on a Thursday) then the plumber turned up as she was preparing to clean the kitchen. She was under my feet as I tried to explain to him the problems, she didn’t want to leave, in the end I was almost pushing her out of the door! Anyway the upshot with the plumber was that he fixed the leak and will return on Tuesday (with his special equipment 😉) to service the boiler. I really hope he gets it sorted then as I am sick of low pressure on taps and cold water. Fortunately the heating hasn’t needed to be clicked on as I dread to think what that will do to the boiler!

On Friday morning I thought I would venture out to buy some wool. I want to knit some baby blankets to sell on the stall for funds for the knitting group. Well not content with one lot of wool I bought four lots! I sent a photo to the group of me knitting in my armchair and said I was making a baby blanket. If I want it on the stall for the Xmas market it needs to be ready by 24 November (no pressure there then).

“The Daddy” has been busy with elderly relatives this week. His photography has been put on the back burner but hopefully by the end of the month he will be back to enjoying his latest hobby.

“The Trainee Solicitor” had a bit of a nightmare the other night which saw him and “The Ex-Graduate” up and removing unwanted stuff from his home. He is panicking about having his second bedroom ready for me to visit next year, still plenty of time I told him but he really wants it all costed up and then the work done.

Saturday I devoted to my knitting, well removing what I had done on Friday as the pattern was just a bit too complicated and I kept making errors, I am doing a design slightly less complicated but which looks just as effective.

Now to the music part of the blog, the first song takes me back to March 1972, my school friend (at the time) came into school and started to cry, her Mum wasn’t well that morning and she felt something terrible was about to happen, around break time she saw her Uncle walking up the path to the school entrance she screamed at me that her Mum must have died and she tried to get away from the truth by wanting to hide from her uncle! I said she had to see him, to hear the truth, which was exactly as she had feared. My friends birthday is March 4 and that was the day of her Mum’s funeral, my friend was just 15 that day. Anyway, the song that takes me back to that time is Mother and Child Reunion by Paul Simon.

This second song takes me back to April of the same year, 1972. I love this song even now, it brings back so many memories of a teenage girl’s dreams for the life ahead of her. The song is “Run, Run,Run by Jo Jo Gunne.

Pauline has been in touch from Ireland. She doesn’t know what to do with her life, should she stay in Ireland (where it’s cold and wet) or try for an internship in Spain or Italy. She has taught herself Spanish and has many friends from South America who speak Spanish so she uses the language. Or should she return to Paris and try for a job for the Olympics. She speaks to me as if I am her age, whereas I am older than her mother! What can I say, I think Spain or Italy would be best as it would enable her to obtain her Masters Degree, but as she said her job at the moment pays ok, is convenient and she has friends of different nationalities, it’s just the weather and her lost love that make staying in Ireland more difficult. Gosh I am pleased I am not that age again otherwise my hair could be falling out for another reason!

Anie has had bronchitis so she messaged rather than visited. Maud is going to come and see me today, I haven got dinner sorted in case I am pushing her out of the door too.

So I will bid you all a bonne journée, see you next time!

#barsuraube #trees #nature #livingthedream #photography #crafts

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you.

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.”

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again.

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy.

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

A Frank Adler One Shot.

Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…

Pairings: Frank Adler x Reader

A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!

Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist

❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔

I'm gonna make you bend and break,

Say a prayer, but let the good times roll

In case God doesn't show…

Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.

But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.

With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.

How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?

And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.

"Who does he think he is?"

If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys

He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.

He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.

Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.

You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.

“This shouldn’t-“

“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”

He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.

You knew he was a goner.

"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.

You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.

And everything would change.

Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.

“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”

The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.

It was so wrong.

Yet you happily obliged.

It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.

With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.

You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.

“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.

But it had to. There was no way around it.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

"He tastes like you only sweeter"

"Just...let...go," you purred against him.

"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.

"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.

The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.

And you blinked back a solitary tear.

*****

I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.

And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past

One night stand

Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”

He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.

Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.

He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.

It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.

He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.

A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.

And all he could taste was you.

Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.

“You happy?”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”

Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”

“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.

Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”

“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories

#onlyjamesbarnes1.5kchallenge #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler fanfiction #frank adler fic #reader insert #Chris Evans #chris evans characters

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

part 2 (of that new bio!dad fic)

Dick whipped his head over to Bruce, who could feel the heavy gazes of all his children as if they were physical. If they had had heat vision like Clark, he would have already been reduced to a puddle of mush. Bruce shifted, the only sign of his discomfort, but he recognized that the middle of a gala was no place for this discussion. There were too many busybodies trying to listen in for the latest gossip. So he plastered on a smile that he couldn’t quite feel, and held a hand out to Marinette. He was careful to keep a good distance though, and left the choice for contant purely up to her.

The young woman looked down at his hand, then back to his face. Damian had been shocked silent by what she had to say, and perhaps even more by the all too telling way that Bruce hadn’t so much as implied that she was lying, and the look he was giving her was making her a little uncomfortable. Yes, she hadn’t planned on interacting with her father more than just the years-overdue confrontation she had just done, at least not while at the gala… but her plans always left room for improvisation. She could make this work.

With a soft sigh, Marinette extended her own hand— half the size of Bruce’s, he noted almost immediately with a rush of illogical fondness— and grasped his lightly. She couldn’t help but notice the way his impossibly blue eyes brightened, no different than her own when she was particularly happy, or the way his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed beam. Instead, he controlled himself enough so that the only smile he gave would look professional and entirely in character to the nosy socialites still spying on them, and led them out onto the dance floor.

What everyone else saw was the unfairly charming Bruce Wayne giving his young guest of honor a simple dance. Just a basic swirl around the floor that every other social elite had learned when they were five. Clearly he was taking it easy on the self-made girl, who probably didn’t have experience with such dances. Humoring the accomplished young woman with his approval for a moment before he would slink back to his family or patrol the crowds and make the necessary greetings and meaningless chatter.

What his family saw was Bruce taking time to slow his steps, not for Marinette to keep up but rather to prolong the event. What they saw was the grace in Marinette’s steps as she never once faltered, and that Bruce was careful to take his cues from her instead of the other way around. He only led the dance in technicality, Marinette had all the real control.

What they saw was a father’s first dance with his daughter.

“Eighteen,” Dick whispered, eyebrows drawn low. “She said she’s almost eighteen.”

“Well, that lines up doesn’t it?” Jason asked gruffly, his own gaze never leaving the dancing duo. “We were planning on doubling up your big thirtieth birthday party as your eighteenth adoption anniversary,” he reminded his brother, who just made a slightly distressed noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was at the reinforcement of his adoption coming only months after Marinette being put up for adoption, or the fact that he was turning thirty, nobody could really tell.

“Hurt,” Cassandra spoke up from behind them, looking incredibly concerned as she watched the dance. “Uncertain.”

Stephany rolled her eyes, fidgeting from her quickly building energy. Anger was making her restless. “Of course she’s hurt. Bruce replaced her, with a boy he knew virtually nothing about, not even that long after she was born. How do you think that made her feel, when she found out?” Stephany let out a little growl, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and downing it in one gulp. She ignored Dick protesting that she wasn’t of age yet, which made her wrinkle her nose. “Only one more year, Dickhead. Get over it, I need the buzz.”

“Well,” Barbara sighed and maneuvered her wheelchair around the group so that everyone could see her. “Nothing we can do right now but be supportive and watch Bruce like a hawk so he doesn’t make this worse,” she stated easily, not looking even the least bit ruffled by the news despite the disturbed glitter in her eyes.

“... Guys,” Tim spoke up, not looking at any of them. “Who wants to volunteer for Damian duty?” At first glance, it might seem like Tim was thinking about his own first disastrous meeting with the younger boy. Once everyone paid attention though, they could see that the truth was that Damian had snuck away and Tim was pointedly looking at a slightly hidden-away staircase to the second floor.

“Shit,” Dick muttered, but before he could say another word Jason shoved him back and started towards the stairs.

“No, not this time Dicky. I’ll talk to the brat.”

Back on the dancefloor, Bruce and Marinette broke away without any fanfare at the end of the song. If Bruce tried to hold her eyes for a moment too long, nobody noticed besides his observant children, and two of Marinette’s protective friends.

Then, just to make sure that nobody caught on with the help of hindsight, Bruce said something vaguely polite and praising, which Marinette accepted with flawless, distant poise. And they went back to their own groups, Bruce quickly noting that two of his sons were missing. He raised an eyebrow, about to ask why when a presence behind him caught his attention. Unlike Marinette and Chloe, this newcomer was not at all trying to hide their approach or be sneaky about it, even though Bruce couldn’t hear any footsteps that were close enough to belong to the mysterious entity. Closing his mouth, Bruce turned around only to be greeted by yet another vaguely familiar face. Bright green eyes bore into his, unreadable.

“Mister Wayne,” the newcomer greeted, voice warm but stiff. If the Waynes hadn’t all had years of recognizing when a person was only pretending to be cordial, they never would have suspected that the boy was anything but pure-heartedly happy to be there. But they did have that experience, and thus they instantly honed in on the very well-hidden fact that he had a bone to pick with them. Or, more probably, with Bruce.

He cut an impressive figure, for all that he was lithe muscle instead of bulk. Hair that was lighter than Chloe’s, less like cloth-of-gold and more like sunlight glinting off of wheatfields. It somehow hung in gravity-defying tufts, yet perfectly arranged to evoke a calming aesthetic. Like the fluff of a long-haired cat, almost, and it looked just as fluffy and hypnotizing. It contrasted with his emerald eyes, impossibly vibrant in their gleam. And the suit he wore was decidedly top-notch, much like the other two they had met from his class. He was daring, in a dark silver suit that slightly shifted in the light, green accents that matched his eyes standing out strikingly against the collars and trim, and coiling in tantalizing swirls at the cuffs. The lining of the suit jacket was done in a dark green that could almost pass for black in the right lighting, adding a layer of both drama and mystery as it peeked out at the back of his collar, the insides of his sleeves if he moved just the right way, at the bottom hem of the jacket when he turned or bent just so. And with his notoriety in the modeling world? He always knew exactly how to move or place himself to get the reactions he wanted. And he was clearly showing off the craftsmanship of his suit just then as he faked adjusting his cufflinks and lifted his head just the right amount to both look challenging and let the dark green on the back of his collar flash in the light in such a way that Bruce and those nearest him wouldn’t be able to miss the brief reveal of color.

“Adrien Agreste,” Bruce greeted back, eyebrows pulling down in slight confusion. Normally the topic of clothing was far from his genuine interest, but in this particular case it was an intriguing, and possibly even concerning, observation. So he said next; “That suit is not of your father’s usual style of design.”

Adrien scoffed, straightening out his suit’s jacket and making the obsidian buttons glint. “Of course not. I’ve started my rebellious phase— or, well, I finally started being blatant enough about it that my father noticed anyway,” the way his lips curled was decidedly not very attractive, but painted a vivid picture of a son who despised the way he was treated. Adrien quickly wiped the distasteful expression away and replaced it with a camera-ready smile. “I’m wearing one of Marinette’s designs, much to his chagrin. She insisted on making this for me as soon as she heard that my father was planning on sending me in a white suit.”

Bruce quickly caught on, and sighed. How long would the gala go on for, again? He didn’t remember what time it was anymore. “Your friend Chloe already got a pretty clear warning in. I suppose you know as well?”

Adrien’s grin darkened with mischief, and he nodded all too happily. “Of course! Marinette told me almost as soon as she found out, a few years ago. You see, we had to put down a very solid rule about secrets between the two of us. She has a bad habit of trying to shoulder the entire world’s problems and not tell anyone about it, if you don’t pay close enough attention,” his voice was deceptively light but his eyes were hard, warning. “And let’s just say, I have a lot of experience with bad father figures. I can recognize them a mile away by now. The signs of neglect, of apathy,” his eyes suddenly lightened when he saw how Bruce’s throat visibly caught, how the man didn’t seem to realize he had stopped breathing. Maybe he was being a little to mean, Adrien thought. So he let the dark slip out of his eyes, and his smile turned more genuine. “You don’t have those signs. You looked at Marinette like you were both the happiest and most miserable man in the world at the same time. But you can’t change what you did to her, Mister Wayne. If you want some advice from Marinette’s oldest friend?” Adrien held out a closed fist.

Bruce took a second to realize what was happening, too busy trying to recover from his situational whiplash and wave of relief. Once he caught back up to the present, however, he held out his open palm and let Adrien drop something into his hand.

To his shock, it was a pen, engraved with the name he recognized as Marinette’s biological mother. He also recognized it as a popular model of pen-knife. He raised his eyes to Adrien, who winked.

“Marinette doesn’t know I had this made. And she has a lot of tricks that might surprise you, but what she wants more than anything is stability. If you try to give her that, show that you care and you want her safe— and then prove that you’re gonna stay— then maybe you can repair the damage you’ve done. It won’t be easy though, Mari is the single most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And I grew up with Chloe.”

Bruce closed his hand around the pen, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but Adrien’s faith in him and his help… somehow felt significant. He nodded to the young model.

“Not to worry, I have experience with stubborn,” he glanced back at his other kids with a small smirk. None of them were the least bit repentant. “And I do want to stay. Thank you for the advice.”

Adrien shrugged. “Don’t thank me. If you hurt her again, you’ll never see my revenge coming. It can be rather… catastrophic,” with that ominous threat, Adrien bowed dramatically and turned to leave and do some rounds charming the elites. Bruce tucked the pen in one of his hidden pockets, but stayed silent after that. He had a lot to mull over.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the gardens behind the gala’s venue. He was glaring at nothing, and his hands trembled from where they gripped the rail. It was five minutes, a little longer than he had expected but not that odd considering everyone’s distraction over Marinette, before he heard the glass doors behind him creak open.

“Yo,” Jason greeted, knowing it was better not to catch the boy off guard. None of them were good with surprises anymore, for good reason. It was always best to announce their presence before they made someone react violently on accident. Damian’s shoulders relaxed a little— not a lot, but enough for Jason to notice. The older man sighed, walking up and leaning on the rail next to his little brother. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“That could have been me,” he almost instantly blurted. It was still hard talking about his feelings, but certain things were easier with Todd. This was, apparently, one of them. “If Mother hadn’t kept me a secret.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason disagreed, shrugging. “There are several big differences here. For one, Marinette was born three years before you were. By the time you were born, he already had Dick and he would have only been a year, max, away from taking me in. Which means he already had built up his problem with taking in kids, and nothing would have gotten him to give up a chance at raising you. With or without Batman getting in the way.”

“But then why—” Damian growled. “Why did he give her up?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Jason remarked bluntly. “You know how he is. He didn’t have a kid at the time. Hell, Bruce would have only been twenty-two back then. He only adopted Dick on impulse because Dick reminded him of himself, but before all of that shit? He probably made a million excuses about not being able to raise a baby and be Batman at the same time. About his life being too dangerous for a kid. Which, yes it is, but that clearly didn’t stop him later.”

“She’s older,” Damian muttered, this time softer.

“Yup.”

“Her mother wasn’t an assassin, probably. She designs. I hate to admit it, and you are never to repeat it to anybody, but her work that we’ve seen so far is impressive. She can clearly charm even the most stuck-up of gotham’s upper crust.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed neutrally, his eyes never leaving Damian.

“Father won’t need me. He already doesn’t have much patience—” Damian was cut off by a flick to the nose. “Hey!”

“Not my fault you’re being stupid,” Jason defended himself. “Look, B’s actually been real patient with you these past few years. I mean, when was the last time he yelled at you? Or told you that stupid ‘justice not vengeance’ line?”

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. After another moment, he replied; “Almost two years.”

Jason nodded. “It might take him way too long, but he can still learn new tricks. Especially after that mess with Heretic, he’s been trying really hard to be better to you. He still screws up, because I think we all know by now that he’s a bigger mess than any of the rest of us and that’s an accomplishment, but he’s trying. He doesn’t keep you around because he needs you. He’s got plenty of us around if all he wanted was soldiers— though none of us would stick around if we thought that’s all he wanted.”

Damian flexed his jaw. He was still the most violent of the kids, besides Jason. He saw Bruce rubbing his forehead or pinching his nose far too often at some of his decisions or comments. He was stubborn, impatient, reckless.

But hadn’t Bruce himself told him on several occasions that he wasn’t trying to make him a perfect soldier? Hadn’t Bruce himself said that he just wanted Damian to grow into himself?

It was just really hard to swat away those stupid voices in Damian’s head. Voices of the past, mostly, old dialogue he had never actually forgotten. That he merely pretended had never affected him. The “you’re too violent”s, the “that’s not how we behave, Damian”s. All the old lectures, the old fights. They echoed like stupid little gremlins of doubt.

“...Marinette has his eyes.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Jason’s voice was soft, but gruff at the same time as he cuffed Damian over the head. “You didn’t choose to be born, idiot. And despite being a little demon, none of us would reverse it, You’ve saved all our skins at least once. And besides,” he nudged Damian a little with a grin. “You’re not half bad, nowadays.”

Damian chuckled. “That makes one of us.”

“Hey!”

@peterxwade24 @mizzy-pop @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @khneltea @itsmeevie01 @fusser90 @woe-is-me0 @lolieg @moonlightstar64 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #platonic brucinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat fic

582 notes · View notes

mellowswriting · 3 years

Note

2, 3, & 48 with the least expected choice: JAVI BB! 😭 Please I just starve for domestic!Javi a lot

Second Chance

pairing || Javier Peña x F!Reader

summary || Javier comes back to the U.S after taking down Escobar to find you - and what he finds changes his life forever.

word count || 4,824

warnings || angst with a happy ending, soft dad Javi, allusions to sex

a/n || This was so interesting to write, because Javier as a dad??? Yes please! Also because I’m so used to writing mainly fluff that angst can get a little tricky for me. Thank you for this little writing challenge, anon!

Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!

Two years. It had been nearly two years since Javier had seen you - correction, since he had watched you walk out with tears in your eyes and did nothing to stop you like a fool. It was one of his biggest regrets, and that was saying something coming from a man whose job required him to make hard and fast decisions that often left people dead. All he could do was hope and fucking pray that you wouldn’t slam the door in his face.

Even if he did deserve it.

A drive that typically would’ve taken only an hour from the airport took nearly double that, Javier’s hands shaking and stomach turning the entire time. He should’ve done this sooner, should’ve followed you out that door or hopped onto a plane and met you back in the States. Nothing felt right without you, the world around him slightly distorted by your absence. An absence that was entirely his fault.

He shouldn’t have snapped at you. All you had wanted from him was the promise that he would try to play it safer. It was a simple reassurance that he could have given you if he hadn’t been such a moron and snapped at you that if you couldn’t handle the realities of his job, you had no business sticking around. You were scared, worried for him after one of his harebrained plans nearly got his head blown off.

And all Javier had done was make you feel stupid for caring about him. It didn’t help that he did nothing to try to fix it the next day; he was embarrassed, ashamed of his immaturity. And you left because of it. He hated himself for it. He would only hate himself more if he didn’t go to you now that he had taken down Escobar. Better late than never, right? He was back in the states and could’ve gone anywhere, done anything, especially now that he was so well known for his hard work in Colombia. Instead, he used that new status to find out where you ended up and scribbled your address onto a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a nice house. The kind he always hoped you would get, picturesque with the neatly trimmed front yard and picket fence. The sun had just risen enough to tint the sky by the time he pulled up and killed the engine, his millionth cigarette of the day perched between his fingers. You were home. Tiny movements that he could see from the windows and the car parked in your driveway told him that much.

The love of his life was right there. Less than twenty yards away, practically nothing separating the two of you after so long. That realization had Javier finally shoving the car door open and stepping out - and damn near getting himself run over in the process. In his haste, his excitement, he didn’t even glance around himself enough to see the car approaching and… pulling into your driveway?

A spike of fear shot through him. Please, fuck, don’t let that be a man. Don’t let that be some man who is going to walk through the door and kiss your cheek as you welcome him home from work and…

No. A woman, brunette. Launching herself out of the car and practically skipping up to the door. She didn’t bother knocking, just walked right in and closed the door behind her. Something familiar about her tickled the back of Javier’s brain, the hazy memory of a polaroid of her next to you wearing matching goofy grins. Ah, your sister. Amelia, if he remembered correctly.

Javier hesitated at her appearance. He didn’t want to interrupt something. God knows you were already going to be pissed enough at him. So he leaned against his door and puffed on that cigarette like it was his only lifeline, ready to wait for however long it took.

Just his luck that he wouldn’t have to wait long. The door reopened not fifteen minutes later and the two of you both appeared on the porch and holy fuck, Javier’s heart was ready to fly out of his chest just at the sight of your smile as you chatted with your sister. He watched, enraptured, that damn cigarette damn near falling from his lips, his heart leaping at the way your head tilted back with a big laugh. God, he missed that sound.

You turned and poked your head back into the doorway and called something that he couldn’t hear, pausing before rolling your eyes and walking back inside. You appeared again a second later with -

A kid? Propped on your hip with your arm propped under them with ease.

Javier’s heart dropped. Of course. He should’ve known that someone would have scooped you up the second you returned home. If he hadn’t have been such a fucking idiot, that could have been him building a home with you and fuck, he had to leave. He needed to get in his car and fucking go before you -

“Javier?”

It had been so long since he heard you say his name. Even when it was layered with surprise, his name never sounded better than when it was falling from your lips. Javier froze with his hand on the handle. He could hear your sister’s ill attempt at whispering, the harshness of “Wait, the Javier? The one that -” that you cut off before she could finish.

Javier turned, his heart flying in his chest, and started walking up to the gate. The shake in his hands was undeniable when he lifted the latch. Your mouth hung open, chest rising and falling rapidly with your almost frantic breathing, the little girl perched on your hip seeming confused. She was yours, that much was obvious. Her nose, her lips - that little girl was your daughter.

Something in you snapped back into place, your mouth closed and a fake smile quickly replaced it as you turned your softening gaze to your little girl. “Okay, you have fun with Aunt Amelia, okay? Mommy loves you.”

Javier watched the exchange with a heavy heart, watched as your daughter gave you the tiniest kiss on your cheek with a small ‘pop’ of her lips, watched as your sister took her and gave him a wide berth as she went to strap her into the carseat in her car. The moment she was out of your sight, the warmth from your eyes fell away and regarded him with something colder, something angry and sad.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked.

“It’s done.” He mumbled, his fists clenching at his sides. “All of the bullshit with Escobar, it’s over.”

“Yeah, I know.” You scoffed at the surprised look he gave you. “What, you think I didn’t keep track of you after I left? Just because I wasn’t around doesn’t mean I stopped caring about whether you lived or died. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I never should have let you leave. I… I shouldn’t have driven you away to begin with.” Shame flooded him for the millionth time at the flash of hurt in your eyes before you looked away from him, your eyes falling to the ground. “The kid… uh, congratulations I mean. I didn’t know you started a family, I never would’ve shown up like this. I’m not a homewrecker.”

“The kid?” You repeated, your voice incredulous, and Javier cringed. Yeah, not the most eloquent way to put it, but he was never good with words.

“Yeah, uh, she’s a cute kid. You and your… husband or whatever, you got lucky.” Every word that fell from his lips, he regretted. They were true, sure, but holy hell did it sound so awkward coming from him.

“The kid.” You scoffed again, a sound he hadn’t realized he missed so much. You finally locked eyes with him, somehow even more guarded than before. “She’s yours.”

Javier blinked. The words didn’t compute, his brain falling blank at the very thought that he… no, no fucking way. He took a half step back, his mouth falling open. He watched you watch him, watched the way your eyes studied his every movement. Air rushed in and out of his chest rapidly, black spots blinked at the edges of his vision, and suddenly his ass was hitting the hard stone of your porch.

He barely heard the rough, concerned way you said “Shit, Javi!”, barely noticed you disappear from his side. No, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept that. There was no way in hell that his stupid fucking mistake deprived him of this, of his family. Of watching you bring his child into the world and watching her grow, teaching her how to walk on unsteady feet and picking her up when she cried. Of you teaching him how to gently pull her pretty brown hair into the little sprigs of pigtails, just like she wore when he caught a glance of her before she was whisked away.

The cold, wet feeling of a cloth dragging across his forehead made his eyes refocus and there you were. Your eyes, once cold and hesitant now tinged with concern as you gently drug a washcloth down each of his cheeks, trying to pull him out of his panicked state. You were murmuring something to him, something he couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Javier’s hand grasped at yours, pressing it against his cheek tightly.

“Name.” He rasped. “What’s her name?”

You paused, a small smile perking up the corners of your lips. “Elianna. We call her Ellie.”

Ellie.

Javier had a daughter.

“I have a daughter?” Javier needed to hear you say it again.

“You have a daughter.” You nodded and pulled your hand away from his cheek, much to Javier’s disappointment. He missed your touch. You patted him hard on the shoulder before hauling him up. “Come on, we have a lot to talk about. Might as well do it on the couch where it’s comfortable.”

The inside of your home was just as picturesque as the outside, but in a completely different way. Colorful toys were strewn about the living room, a few soft baby blankets crumpled on the couch. It was comfortable, lived-in. Happy. Javier sat heavily on the couch, mind almost on autopilot as he gently touched the blanket next to him, his fingers barely grazing the fabric like he was worried his touch would somehow taint it.

You handed him a cold bottle of water that he accepted graciously and sipped as you sat next to him, a foot-wide war zone of space between you that felt like a stab to his heart. If only he hadn’t fucked everything up. You would be curled up right against him, your head on his chest as the two of you watched the little girl you created together babble over her toys.

“Tell me about her?” Javier asked tentatively, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“What do you want to know?” The hesitance in your voice made him feel even worse.

“Anything. Everything.”

And you did. Javier watched and listened, enraptured as you gushed about little Ellie. At nearly fifteen months old, she was damn near running and constantly getting into everything. She was curious and bright and laughed like she couldn’t breathe when you would roll around on the floor and play with her. Just the sight of the happiness and light in your eyes when you retold the first time you heard her say ‘mama’ made pride swell in his chest.

The intense urge to have her here with him pulled at him, but he knew better than to ask. You were already indulging him by bringing him into your home and answering his questions. Hell, he was lucky you told him to begin with. He could feel the intensity of your gaze on his face as he tried to absorb all of the information that was dumped on him. Silence filled the living room when you trailed off, a few heavy moments where he didn’t know what to say.

“I know you have questions, Javier.” You said, your words slow and deliberate. Clipped, like you were terrified he was going to disappear once again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Javier whispered.

“Well, I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left.” You began with a sigh. “I thought that the nausea and the missed period were from stress, because god knows I was wrecked. I found out a few weeks after I got back to the U.S and… I just didn’t see the point to tell you.”

“Didn’t see the point? Of telling me you were having my child?” His voice rose with his anger, his frustration and he watched as those walls slammed down, your vulnerability hardening in less than a second. He took a deep breath before continuing, trying his damnedest to soften his voice. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“Are you kidding me, Javier? You had just told me to leave. Was I supposed to think it would change anything?” You deflated into the cushions slightly and the sight of the exhaustion and pain in your eyes made some of his anger fall away. You rubbed a hand down your face. “Was I supposed to hop back on a plane back to Colombia? Put myself and my baby in danger? Or maybe I should have just called you. ‘Hey, Javier, I know you just told me to get out of your life, but surprise! I’m carrying your child!’ How would that have gone over?”

“But after? How could you not…” Javier choked up, unable to finish his sentence. You were right, he knew that. But he was grieving the loss of everything he had missed out on. He couldn’t blame you, not really. It was an impossible situation.

“I wanted to. There were these moments that… it took everything in me not to call you and beg you to come to me like some pathetic little…” You trailed off with a shake of your head, your voice cracking. “But I couldn’t. The closer you got to catching Escobar, I just… I couldn’t pull you away from the fight when you were so close to winning. The past few weeks, though? God, I almost called you at least a dozen times. The second I heard about it, I wanted you here, but I was so… so scared, Javi.”

And there it was. Javier’s heart snapped in half. He broke your heart and you managed to still prioritize his career, his fight against Escobar, while you brought his child into the world and shouldered that responsibility on your own. He cleared his throat harshly and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold back those traitorous tears that threatened to fall.

“You don’t have to be scared. If you’ll have me, I swear to god, you will never do this alone again.” Javier whispered, his eyes still closed. Debilitating fear kept him from looking at you, afraid to see the rejection on your face. “I want to be here, I want this. I want my family.”

“Do you mean that?” Your voice trembled with disbelief.

“Of course I do, hermosa.” He insisted. “Please, give me the chance to show you.”

The small, relieved sigh that came from you made something tight ease in his chest and Javier hesitantly brought you into his arms. You relaxed into his side with your head propped on his shoulder, the both of you taking refuge in the familiarity of the touch that was missed for so long. He felt you look up at him and met your eyes, hoping you could see his sincerity. Words had a tendency to fail him but he still had his actions. He absentmindedly licked his lips before asking, “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled at him, a small smile that was still a bit sad, but a smile nonetheless, and nodded. “I've missed your kisses. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He confessed and finally kissed you. After two years, Javier felt the softness of your lips against his and finally felt like he was home.

----------

Javier’s knee bounced rapidly as he sat on your couch hours later, his nerves bounding untethered and desperate for any outlet. Just on the outside on the porch, you had stepped out to greet Amelia, who had brought Ellie home.

His daughter was on the other side of the door and he was about to meet her, for real this time. Excitement and fear warred with each other, neither able to win out over the other in their rising volume. Excitement at getting to hold her, maybe even make her smile. Fear over the possibility of hurting her or being too rough - he didn’t have much experience with babies, after all.

The door pushed open and he heard you call his name softly. “Can you grab these bags for me?”

He was on his feet in an instant, glad to be of help and already jumping at the chance to start proving himself to be a good father. A mess of brown curls poked out from the baby blanket you had draped over your chest where Ellie was apparently still fast asleep, distracting him slightly as he grabbed the bags from Amelia. She… did not look too happy to see him. The hardness in her glare told him something that didn’t need to be vocalized: if he hurt you or Elllie, his body would never be found.

Javier nodded slightly at her. He couldn’t blame your sister. If he were in her position, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be breaking noses. At your request, he set the bags on the kitchen table before walking back to you - and the sight of you swaying in the middle of the living room with Ellie knocked out against you, your cheek propped against the top of her head, took his breath away. The smile you gave him brought him closer, his hand settling on Ellie’s back softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took a moment of maneuvering, but the second you settled Ellie against him chest-to-chest, his entire world came into focus. Her cheek pressed against his chest just so, making her mouth form the tiniest little ‘o’ that he had ever seen. She was so calm, sleeping so deeply, and Javier couldn’t fucking believe his luck. How could he have had any part in creating something so perfect?

He had to sit down. He didn’t trust himself to hold her with unskilled hands while standing. She harrumphed slightly when he eased down onto the couch, but other than that, his little girl stayed off in her dreamworld, content and safe in her father’s arms for the first time.

“Just be careful not to touch the bottoms of her feet even a little bit, it wakes her up every time. She’s just like you with that.” You said, your voice lowered as you sat next to him much closer than before. He preened under the idea that any part of him was reflected in Ellie, even something so small and silly.

“She’s so warm. Is that normal?” Javi asked. He hoped she didn’t have a fever, he knew that a fever could really hurt a baby even with his limited knowledge. You reached out to gently feel her forehead and cheek, smiling after a moment.

“No, she's just a little furnace.” You settled against the back of the couch with a content smile. God, this just felt so right. Having you so close and smiling, having his daughter asleep and safe against him. He could feel the pieces snapping together, could feel himself becoming whole. “Yet another thing she has in common with you.”

“What else?” Javier whispered, desperate to hear everything.

“Hmm, let’s see. You have the same grumpy face.” You laugh when he glanced up at you, his eyebrows ticked together and lips pursed slightly. “Mhmm, that’s the one. Plus she hates carrots. Acts like I’ve personally offended her if I even offer them.”

“That’s because carrots are fucking disgusting.” Javi grumbles goodnaturedly as he gently rubs Ellie’s back. She’s so small, such a tiny, delicate little creature, and he can’t believe it. Any of it. You let him in after everything, took him in and introduced him to an entirely new world of possibility, one where if he was smart and did right by his two little ladies, he would get the life he always dreamed of.

Your fingers brushed an errant lock of hair from his face and Javi sighed, his eyes falling closed as he leaned into the soft touch that he missed so much. He hummed happily, practically purring like a pleased cat, when your fingers buried further in his hair and massaged over his scalp. Heaven. He was in heaven.

A gentle stirring against his chest made Javier glance down at Ellie and that first glimpse of her big brown eyes only confirmed what he already felt deep in his soul - this little girl was his everything. It was the most basic, simple thing he had ever felt, no question to be had about any of it.

Ellie wiggled against him, trying to get herself upright, and Javier immediately held her under her arms to sit her on his thigh. She looked inquisitively up at him from his lap, glancing over at you to confirm that you were nearby before staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing he has ever seen. Her little hand reached up to tug at his mustache, giving him a toothy grin at the way he laughed.

There were tears in his eyes and he couldn’t even deny them, couldn’t pretend they weren’t there. Javier could see them mirrored in your eyes as you watched Ellie stand in her father’s lap and try to balance herself with her hands on his shoulders.

You cleared your throat. “She’s about to start bouncing.”

“What? Whoa!” Javier exclaimed at the sudden feeling of what seemed like Ellie falling in his lap, his hands rushing for a firmer grip only for her to pop right back up and do it all over again. All three of you cracked up, your melodic laughter mixing with Ellie’s high giggling in the most beautiful way.

That night Javier got to cut up his daughter's food and help spoon bites into her mouth, sat at the table with Ellie and the love of his life, eating dinner like a family. He could picture this for the rest of his life. Eating breakfast and dinner together. Kissing the both of you goodbye in the morning and returning to his daughter running down the hall to wrap him in a hug. Chasing Ellie around a park and helping her down slides and pushing her on the swings.

This was his second chance, and he was going to do it right. God help him, he was not going to miss out on anything else. So when he saw the hesitance in your eyes that night after putting Ellie to bed, Javier settled himself on the couch with nothing but a gentle kiss to your forehead. There was no reason to push you. He wanted you to be comfortable, he owed you that much.

A week went by like that. Javier would rise in the morning to the sounds of you coming downstairs with Ellie on your hip and stretch, realigning his spine and pulling the tension from his sore back. He offered small pieces of affection and grinned every time they were accepted - a small peck on the lips here, his arm raised for you to curl closer on the couch there. Little Elianna was all too happy to join in on those little couch cuddle sessions, too, clambering into his lap or yours and snuggling close.

It seemed like the more Ellie warmed up to him, the more you did as well. Javi caught those small smiles when you watched him help ease his little girl to sleep for a nap. The more he proved himself to be a good father, the more comfortable you were letting him in, and it felt like progress. You laughed openly at his stupid jokes, reached out for him for affection of your own volition - kisses over coffee, holding hands as he pushed Ellie in the stroller - and it felt so good.

Javier fluffed up a pillow before tossing it against the arm of the couch, but before he could collapse his exhausted body into the cushions, he felt your hand curl around his bicep. The look in your eyes was almost afraid and worry clenched his stomach, but before he could spiral, you pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him.

A surprised sound hummed against your lips but Javi quickly regained himself to kiss you back. There was something softer about the way your lips pressed against his, something that had been absent from the quick, nearly chaste kisses you shared since he returned. This time you parted your lips and licked along the curve of his bottom lip, your hand coming up to press against his jaw and pull him even closer.

“You aren’t sleeping on that couch anymore.” You whispered against his lips.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Javi grumbled as he pressed even closer and kissed you again and again, slowly guiding you back to your bedroom.

He woke up the next morning with his bare chest against your back, his face buried in your hair, and he didn’t think life could get any better. His arms tightened around you as he gently rubbed up and down your side, the soft touch easing you out of sleep. The way you groaned made him smile; it was a sound he missed, even if it though was grumpy. You rolled over in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck to drag him over you, smiling sleepily at him before kissing him.

“My thighs are fucking aching, Javier.” You grumbled against him as you pressed a line of kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

He shivered at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. “Mm, yeah, and you love it.”

You giggled in that way that made his stomach flip. “Fair enough.”

The door pushed open suddenly, almost hard enough to crack against the wall, and Ellie appeared on your side of the bed, her arms raised as she waited impatiently to be picked up. Javier happily pulled her up onto the bed. Scratch his earlier assumption - now his life couldn’t get any better. He watched Ellie jump and tumble around the sheets with happy squeals and that’s when he heard it. At first, he thought maybe he was hearing things until he saw the way your mouth fell open into a big grin, your eyes flitting back and forth between father and daughter.

“Papaaaa!” Ellie called out, her hands opening and closing rapidly, reaching for him from the other side of the bed. She kept saying it, repeating the two syllables over and over until it all bled into one long call for her dad.

Javier pulled her into his arms and squished her to his chest tightly, his eyes on you as his heart fluttered high in his chest. He couldn’t find the words, his voice choked out by his overwhelming love for the little family he had. He watched as you shuffled forward to kneel next to him and kiss the top of Ellie’s head, then his lips, pride shimmering in your eyes.

“Marry me.” Javier said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your jaw dropped. “Javi… you don’t have to do this. I - I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Are you kidding me? I want to grow old with you, have kids with you, even have a fucking white picket fence.” It was as if the faucet was turned on and there was no stopping the words he so desperately wanted to say. “None of this is out of obligation, hermosa. I want you to be my wife.”

“Yes.” There were tears in your eyes as you listened to the words you had longed to hear for far too long. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Javier surged forward and kissed you again, and in that bed with the precious little girl the two of you created together and the promise of being yours forever, he knew he was right where he belonged.

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @viktorialukowski @cjbtw @agentshortstacc @a-skov @himbotroy

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

936 notes · View notes

luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

400 LUX

Sherlock wants to cut things off but the reader thinks he should really think it over. Or, the one where Sherlock isn’t one for saying “I love you”, but he has always offered you a sword. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You could hear the water running in the bathroom as you slipped down the hall to make coffee, your phone in one hand pressed against your ear as Mary went on and on about all the things that you two needed to do today and the other hand held your shear kit that you barely used. It was a few days before the wedding and things were in full swing for you as Mary’s bridesmaid and Sherlock as the best man. Mary, God bless her, was having a breakdown every other day and it was all you could do to not to set her off by picking the red velvet with buttercream over the vanilla cupcakes.

“— and we need to go by the florist today, too, and I probably should stop by and speak to the DJ... and John, he’s not worried about any of it! He’s asking for tea and biscuits as if I’m not already balancing the most important day of our lives!” Mary was talking at a mile a minute and as she continued the never ending list of tasks she had set for the two of you, you began situating all of your supplies to cut Sherlock’s hair. He had insisted you do it before the wedding, and not even your lack of experience was enough to convince him to just go to the shop with John. Sherlock’s hair was something he took very seriously so you were unsure as to why he’d even ask you to do this.

Speaking of the devil, you rounded the hallway and started for the bathroom.

“One second Mare.” She didn’t miss a beat and continued right on talking once you muted her, and you wondered if this is how John felt talking to Sherlock. Knocking on the door before walking in, you fought through the steam to find a comb on the counter.

“If we’re going to be in here at the same time, you might as well join me.” Sherlock’s head popped out from behind the shower curtain, his hair and face sudsed up and glistening from the water. The longer you realized you had actually been thinking about taking him up on his offer, the quicker you knew that you had to get back to your task at hand and get out of the line of fire. You pulled open some of the drawers and rummaged through them.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.” Hoping that the steam was thick enough to hide your growing blush, you turned back to the vanity and opened the mirror cabinet. “I need you to hurry up. Mary’s having a-“

“You would, too.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and that was enough to make you roll your eyes. Luckily for you, the mirror door was hiding your face from his prying eyes. Smug and darling as always, your man was. You snuck a peek at him and realized he’d moved back from the curtain and resumed washing his hair.

“Seriously, Mary will probably have a heart attack if I don’t leave within the hour. If you love me, five minutes.” You shut the cabinet and slipped out of the room to finally return to your phone call.

“Sorry M, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sherlock is being Sherlock.”

“Now you’re really starting to sound like John. How’s his suit fit? Does he need any adjustments? That reminds me, I should call the tailor! Be a doll and bring something to eat on the way? Love you!” With that she hung up, leaving you in the dust trying to comprehend if she actually was speaking words or Simlish.

—

“Four minutes, fourteen seconds.”

You turned back to him while you gestured for him to sit down so you could wrap the towel around his shoulders. His hair was still pretty wet so you wouldn’t have to spray it much.

“What are you talking about?”

Sherlock only smiled to himself in response, and you figured he’d just moved on from that conversation already. Combing out small sections of his hair and clipping the rest up, you asked again.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I really don’t mind going to your usual stylist with you. I don’t want to mess you up for the wedding.”

“Y/N, I told you already, if I’ve asked you to do it it’s because I want for you to do it. It’s only just a trim. Come on with it.

So you began at that, snipping away little by little. You had cut John’s hair for him a few times right before a date but his was much easier than Sherlock’s and it grew like a weed so even if you did mess up, his date could hardly tell. You told Sherlock all about your plans with Mary for the day and he seemed to be listening intently but you could tell his mind was wandering. You knew him better than you knew yourself.

Moving to stand in between his legs to trim his face framing pieces, you asked him about his plans for the day.

“Hm,” he started, resting his fingers tips lightly on your hips in front of him, tapping away as he thought out his answer. “Mycroft insists he has words for me, despite my telling him to keep them to himself, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him at some point. John is coming here to talk wedding...” which you were almost certain really meant a case, “and I want to tell Mrs. Hudson you’ve decided to give up your flat entirely to live here.”

You had just finished trimming his hair when he had said that and luckily so because you were sure you would have chopped off a lot more than needed being caught by surprise like that. Running your fingers through his hair to be sure you didn’t miss any sections, you contemplated what exactly was happening between you. You had never really brought up completely moving in even though it was true that you practically already did. You hadn’t slept in your own bed in months because you always chose the opportunity to sleep with Sherlock. Moving in seemed like a dream but you always had it in the back of your mind that one day Sherlock would have a change of heart and change his mind on whatever the two of you were, and you didn’t want to be without if that happened.

When he realized you still hadn’t replied to his request, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you. “Is there really that much to think about? John said you’d say yes if I made it clear I was the one asking you to. Had I not done that?”

You couldn’t help but smile, because seriously, what could you have possibly done to deserve the opportunity to love someone as... well, Sherlock, as Sherlock. He was everything everyone said he was, but he had shown you willingly that he was also so much more. You’d choose the life with him, whether it was one of a house and kids and a white picket fence or if it was one that consisted of running around London in the rain because Sherlock swore he saw something suspicious and the only viable option was to run after it. You would choose him. Every single time.

Even with all of your declarations of love, you two had never said talked about the fact that you were definitely exclusively dating which often hindered a conversation of the future. You had told him you loved him more times than you could count but he had never said it back and you were okay with that. He didn’t have to reciprocate it for it to be true. But, it did leave room for doubt that this might not always be what Sherlock chooses.

You thought of all the ways you could bring it it up and realized that straightforwardly was the only way to go. You brought your hands from his hair to hold his face and rubbed your thumbs in slow circles and he relaxed on the spot. He was putty in your hands, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I just don’t want you to feel stuck with me. It’s a big step. And if it ends up making you miserable, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want to be the one to make you miserable.” Your voice was soft as you spoke and you realized that with Sherlock’s bangs being much shorter now, you got to see more of his pretty face. Although, currently, it was contorted as he worked through trying to comprehend what you were saying to him. Blinking away at you for what seemed like forever, Sherlock cleared his throat and took your hands from his face and into his own instead.

“I’m... not sure I understand. I don’t mean to be rude at your expense but if I wanted to leave you, I would. I could rather easily. Just as easily as you could leave me. But you won’t. And I won’t... I’ve tried to show you in all the ways I know how. So would it not make sense for us to live together?”

It slowly started making sense for you and you could slap yourself for being so blind. Sherlock had let you take the lead in a lot of aspects in his life recently that you couldn’t explain what for. He urged you to pick out the next case he would work, allowed you to pick out his new microscope (Y/N, they’re the same color. Pick one. I don’t know Sherlock! I feel like this one is cool grey and this one is light grey, it makes a difference!), and now you were cutting his hair, the most important part of his appearance from his point of view. He trusted you to make the right choice every time and there really was no right choice, your choice was the right choice.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you phone began to ring with Mary’s picture posted on the screen.

“Shit, I’m so late! She’s seriously going to kill me.” Your gaze drifted from your phone to Sherlock who surprisingly patiently awaiting your answer. “Tell Mrs. Hudson as soon as John gets back from holiday that you two will start moving my stuff over. And make a little space for me in your closet, okay? I need more than just a few drawers.”

Sherlock smiled at you like you like he did when you called him brilliant and that was your highest honor to date.

You expected the usual slick remark but he simply said, “You’ll have what you want. Mary will be calling again in about 30 seconds. You should really be hailing a taxi right about now.”

And there he was, the Sherlock you wouldn’t change for the world. You wished you had time to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but alas, duty calls. You kiss him like you mean it- because you do, and rush off to your friend’s rescue but not without stopping in the doorway.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes. But even more importantly than that, I trust you. I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you and I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it if you’d let me. It’s nice to know that you will. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Just like that, you turn his world upside down as you rush down the stairs, leaving him speechless. He thought his story was one that would be written about him and him alone and as sure as he used to be in that, he’d come to the realization that he was just as sure that two was better than one.

“And I, you.”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #mary watson #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #luxwrites

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

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Aaaaand part 6 ideas - I think the timing works out and Starfall is coming. Lucien says he can’t come (a calculated lie), but Elain sends down the bond that she went to that shop along the sidra to wear under her dress. They manage to secure a private balcony. Smut ensues.

You know, I thought about doing a serial where like, Elain accidentally accepts the bond and her and Lucien hate fuck for a while before they get to know each other, but I guess we're doing this instead.

Time has no meaning in this ficlet, do not ask me about the timeline or seasons, they change based on a whim and my needs so anyway WELCOME TO COLD WEATHER AGAIN (I think? I'm unsure when Starfall actually is? And honestly, it doesn't matter).

This is, as per usual, NSFW, 18+ and unedited beyond me just glancing at it to make sure there were no red squiggles in word.

He hadn’t meant to be gone for so long. Spring had fallen to shit and what was supposed to be a two-week stay had morphed into months of trying to convince Tamlin to eat, to legislate, and enforce his border all while Tamlin used him as his personal punching bag. Lucien was exhausted and irritated when Feyre’s invitation for Starfall dropped in his lap.

No I don’t want to go to a party, he thought privately, quickly scrawling back a much politer response. What he wanted was a week of uninterrupted alone time with his mate in which he did every filthy thing he’d been fantasizing about while she begged him for more. Lucien could still taste her in his mouth, could still smell her in the air. She was a brand on his skin, a ghost trailing him everywhere he went. He wondered about her constantly. Was she thinking about him? Did she miss him? Want to see him?

Lucien hoped openly declining an opportunity to see Elain might spur her into reaching out to him in their game and admitting she not only wanted him, but she needed him, too. He was playing aloof, like always but she was just silent. He couldn’t pretend that didn’t disappoint him.

Feyre sent back her disappointment two days later and let the invitation open if he changed his mind. She swore up and down Cassian wanted to chat with him and perhaps the General did. Their friendship was an odd one but comforting and a little familiar. Of all of Rhysand’s inner circle, Lucien liked Cassian best.

He was walking to the stables to patrol Tamlin’s border when a vision slithered down the bond. Elain, standing in front of a mirror, wearing a gown that seemed to be made of pure starlight. Silver and low cut, with capped sleeves and a skin colored lining made it seem as though she only wore the glittering diamonds and nothing else. His mouth went dry at the sight. Had she meant to send it?

Yes. A note followed the image, appearing in the air before him.

Starfall?

That was all she’d written. She might have written pages and pages, for the effect that one word had. Lucien tugged his response back, a resounding yes, absolutely, if I have to crawl I will— and turned abruptly to let Tamlin know he was officially retiring from Spring, and to write if he needed any more assistance.

Back in Velaris, Lucien paid an obscenely large amount of money to secure one of the last private balconies in Velaris. It was far from where Rhysand and his ilk would watch, but still very much out in the open. The edge of the balcony, cut from smooth, gray stone, was thick enough he could hoist Elain up and fuck her brainless if he wanted to.

Lucien very, very much did.

The day before Starfall, Lucien sent Elain only the address and nothing else. There would be no polite teasing, no stolen glances. They would be together…maybe even talk and get to know each other outside of just kissing and touching. The thought of hearing her speak excited him more than anything else, though seeing her stripped of her dress was a very close second.

He dressed in a jacket of silver and trimmed in white to match the fitted white pants he’d worn. He’d neatly combed his hair and tied it off his face after debating for too long whether he ought to leave it down or not. He slipped on clean, black boots that hugged his calves, slipped a knife inside his boot just in case, and forewent wearing any other weaponry.

He’d just made it to the balcony he’d rented when the glass, double doors that led from the building they and others were borrowing, opened, and Elain stepped out. Lucien made no show of dropping to his knee, one hand pressed against his chest, jaw hanging open. He’d lost all rational ability to speak or stand when Elain, his goddess, stepped onto the balcony, a vision in silver stars.

Her cheeks darkened with what he hoped was pleasure, though she made a big show of rolling her eyes. “You’re dramatic,” she accused as he staggered back to his feet.

“Absurd. You’re beautiful,” he replied, caressing those same, heated cheeks. He suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of marring one inch of her body and wondered if perhaps they’d just have a nice, romantic evening with nothing else between them.

She walked to the balcony, illuminated beneath floating fae lights. Lucien stood beside her, resting one of his hands over her own, unable to resist. She smiled faintly at the touch and pressed her shoulder against his.

“I missed you,” she told him without looking up, her eyes still firmly focused on the city below. His heart pounded in his chest at the admission.

“Not half as much as I missed you,” he promised, squeezing her hand. A smile bloomed fully on her face, lighting her up like the sun across the sea and Lucien thought he was ruined entirely for anyone else, regardless of what happened between them.

She turned, suddenly, her sweet smile morphing into something wicked. His body instantly tightened as anticipating thrilled up his spine. What was she thinking? She ran her hands up his chest, dragging her eyes up with them until they were firmly focused on his lips. She didn’t need to ask him to kiss her. He’d happily spend the rest of his life attached at the mouth if she wanted.

That first, sweeping kiss wrecked all Lucien’s promises to himself. She tasted like citrus coated in honey and somehow like sunshine. He was frantic, unable to get enough and all at once, desperate for more. His tongue caressed her own, licking in time with the hips he was grinding into her beautiful gown.

Elain broke the kiss with a gasp, her fingers yanking on the laces of his pants. “Before everything starts,” she said, making quick work of them. He began hiking up her dress but Elain swatted his hands away.

“The first time you have me will be private,” she informed him, her brown eyes glittering with promise. “And somewhere nice.”

He started to ask what her plan was, then, but Elain dropped to her knees and Lucien’s head immediately emptied. The last remaining shred of rationality snarled at the sight of her kneeling when he thought it ought to have been him while the animal that typical slumbered in his chest roared with appreciation at the sight of his mate eye level with his cock.

“I borrowed one of Nesta’s dirtier books,” Elain informed him, her breath curling along the skin of his hard, twitching cock. “I don’t suppose this requires any amount of skill.”

Lucien took a shallow breath as her hand cupped the base of him. She ran her tongue up the broad side of his shaft and he reached for the railing behind him in an effort to keep himself steady.

She hummed softly to herself, pumping him once. She could have done only that and nothing else and he’d have come quickly, undone at just the sight of her. She glanced up at him, her lips moistened, her eyes mischievous.

“Will you beg, Lucien?” She asked.

“Would you like me to?” He choked in response. She smiled, lowered her mouth, and sucked just the tip of his erection into her mouth. Lucien concentrated all his effort on remaining utterly still despite his body’s urge to thrust into her mouth and fuck her throat. It was her first time, he reminded himself. He didn’t need to scare her.

“Yes,” she replied, withdrawing her pretty little lips to lick his head like a piece of candy. Lucien groaned loudly.

“Elain, please—”

His words choked into another groan of need as she took as much of him as she could into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed and her hand making up the difference. Her mouth was hot and wet and utterly intoxicating in its softness. Lucien was desperate and somehow building hotly towards release despite how little time and effort she’d put into the act of sucking him.

She hummed again, the noise vibrating along his skin and settling in his tightening sac. Saliva from her mouth pooled around her hand, making it easier for her glide up and down the length of him as she licked and sucked.

First time? His mind demanded, unable to believe she hadn’t done this before. Had it been so long since someone took him in their mouth that he’d forgotten? Was the act made better when it was his mate who sucked?

Shut the fuck up, the animal in his chest demanded of his wild, out of control thoughts. Lucien’s hips jerked a little as he built higher, fire racing through his blood.

“Elain,” he gasped, unsure what else to say. She quickened her pace and Lucien hung by a thread just long enough to offer a warning. “I’m going to come, Elain—”

She didn’t pull away, didn’t withdraw and a moment later Lucien exploded into a million pieces, yelling so loud he was sure Feyre heard him, wherever she was. He pumped hot into her mouth and Elain, the angel, took all of it without moving her mouth. She waited until he relaxed to withdraw, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You,” he gasped, pulling her to her feet so he could kiss her. “Next, you next—”

A shooting star streaked through the sky and Elain twisted in his arms, her swollen, red lips parted with delight. Lucien quickly pulled up his pants and retied them, swallowing against the aftershock of his release.

“Another day,” she replied, letting him pull her against him, her back resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, aware of what she’d done.

She’d put him in a situation that forced him to see her again.

Did she not know Lucien wanted to see her all the time?

She wiggled a little, sighing sweetly, content in his arms.

He’d show her what he meant.

#elucien fic #elucien smut #elucien prompt #elucien #PART SEVEN #????????#do we want to see them do it or like....#are we all good

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

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Ashens (Part 22)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,600

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

He’s been gone all morning. You don’t know where he went and you didn’t ask before he left. Whatever it was, you weren’t too concerned, anyway. It was about time you two had some space. It helped clear your mind and helped you move on. You were moving on.

There was another reason you were thankful he had left for the morning. You could feel the chills run up the sides of your arms, goosebumps appearing where your skin was once smooth.

You eyed the closet doors curiously. It was almost eerie how quiet it was around you. You dropped your eyes for only a moment before raising them up again.

You had to do this. You were going to do this.

You finally gather the balls to do something you’ve been wanting to for some time now. It had been eating away at you like mad.

Once in front of the closet, you crouch down. You raise your left hand slowly roll the doors open, your eyes immediately dart down to the little black box on the ground. Exactly where he’d left it.

Part of you was happy that it remained untouched.

Per Steve’s orders, you had both buried any of your weaponry about a mile before reaching the wall nearly three months ago. You weren’t supposed to be bring any inside with you. It was forbidden.

It had shocked you when you and Bucky had been arguing about going after Ashen and he had pulled out a G19, angrily strapping it onto his leg to prove a point. He obviously snuck it in. At the time, you hadn’t really given it much thought. You were more shocked that he ignored his best friend’s request.

Now, it concerned you for different reasons.

You sat criss cross in front of the box, staring at it for a few more long seconds. Taking in a deep breath, you opened it. It opened with a small click.

There it was.

Matte black. Subtle but deadly.

You eyed the gun like it was a ticking bomb. You’ve never held a fire arm before, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were nervous. You were nervous to know why the hell he had it stacked away in your bedroom when you knew he didn’t even have the intention of killing anyone on this mission. He made sure to make you aware of this, many times.

You also knew it wasn’t to be used on you. There was no way.

The only other plausible reason he had it, kept you on edge.

You didn’t want your thoughts going there.

You reached slowly for the gun until you felt it lay heavy in your right hand. It was heavier than it looked. It felt deadlier than it looked.

You swallowed thickly, allowing yourself to think the worst.

Was he going to use this on himself?

You suddenly wanted it as far away from you as possible.

Your hand trembled slightly as you put it back in its place, letting your fingers linger on the ridges for just a moment.

You let out a long breath realizing.

When you had eyed the closet, you didn’t really think it through.

What were you going to do once you had it in your hands? Were you going to get the gun and hide it? Were you just curious? Was there something about it that secretly terrified you and you weren’t going to believe you really saw him hold it until you held it yourself?

You shake your head, pushing the box back into its original place. You were over exaggerating.

He probably just brought it in case you both needed it for self protection.

You looked over at your black back pack right next to it and pulled it out.

You fished inside, looking at different things you forgot you still had. You had your grey sweater, scarf, and beat up boots at the bottom. It smelled dusty.

You stuck your hand into the front pocket of the backpack, pulling out a note. It wasn’t your first time reading it, but you need the gentle reminder.

Thank you again for doing this. Thank you for helping me out and for agreeing to our plan to help Bucky be happy again. We can do this together. That plan, to me, is the most important thing right now. Thank you for doing whatever it takes to mentally convince him he deserves happiness. What you’re doing means the world to me, y/n. See you both again very soon. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Steve

You felt small tears in your eyes at your promise. If only he knew how it wasn’t so easy. You closed your eyes tightly together, took a deep breath, and placed the note onto your chest.

I’ll keep trying.

+ +

You didn’t understand these jobs that came with your ID. You didn’t understand most of what you were being told to do, but you did it anyway.

At the end of the day, your number one plan was to still kill Ashen. So you went through with what Bucky ordered you to do until it was time.

Your first day at the tower started off better than how you thought it would. Mr. Hyde was a old gentleman in his late 50s. He had short white hair and a nicely trimmed white beard to compliment it. He knew you were learning and that this would be your first time working up to a secretary job, so he started you off with small assistant duties like transporting paper work around the building, scheduling, and grabbing anything personal he may need here and there.

The best part was when he gave you a tour of the building, the whole reason you even were excited about it. Maybe this was why this was written into the mission.

He explained to you what each floor was but never took you past floor 15. You eyed the buttons on the elevator suspiciously.

He said that wasn’t their area and that “we didn’t need to worry about it”. You needed a special code to access those floors anyway.

You quickly made a connection. You wondered how Bucky had gotten in the other day.

The atmosphere in the elevator went cold when you stopped somewhere on the seventh floor and a man dressed in black and gold walked in. It was a fitted suit, expensive looking, and he had a cold look in his eyes. You swallowed thickly, looking away from him. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to conceal your tattoo as much as you could.

Something about this man was off.

You heard the term Coroner a lot when you worked serving drinks. They weren’t the coroner most people knew, they were cop meets bounty hunter.

There was just something about them that left you uneasy. He stood in front of you and you felt yourself shuffle back a few inches. You looked over at Mr. Hyde and he gave you a small smile.

You smiled back.

+ +

It wasn’t until your fourth day at the building when things finally took a turn.

Bucky was going to meet you at a stairwell for floor eleven. He was going to trace Silas down once and for all. The night after the ball, Bucky was went traced them down to see where they would take the new import. According to what he overheard, there had been some complications and it wouldn’t be administered until today.

You got up from your seat, pretending you were just looking for the restroom, when you turned down the narrow hallway and went for the door that led into the stairwell.

You had three floors to climb up to meet him.

You were on the ninth floor when you turned the corner of the stairs and your heart nearly jumped up into your throat.

His face, his hair, his eyes, and his damn voice.

It all hit you at once and you turned back the direction you came from, leaning back against the steal rods. You put a hand up to your head as you felt dizzy. You could feel your heart beating away like crazy and you felt that anger you harbored down for so long.

It was him. The face from the diner and the face of the man that killed your mom and dad.

Ashen.

And he was with another woman.

“He’s our child and he’s dying!” The woman shouted. You could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know but there’s not much else I can do,” the voice. It was deep and violent. You hated it. You hated him, “He woke up this morning, cured! Without us even giving him the dose of the chemical. It’s obvious his plasma contains some kind of fending off mechanism. It took years, but he obviously survived it and no longer has it.”

You took a deep breath as you processed what you were hearing.

Had the little boy been infected with the virus, but now was doing well?

“And?” The woman insisted.

“And?” An evil laugh came from within Ashen’s chest, “We need all his blood, goddamn it! We need it distributed to our men if we want our side to stay strong once we go out there!”

“You can’t possibly still think—“

“It’s our world —“

“But we are safe here. Our son is safe here!”

“You didn’t think we’d all stay stuck in here for all eternity, did you? Hydra and Sword is to control the world, not the city. These walls kept us safe long enough and our son is well now, and we might have the cure in our hands. It’s all we need to conquer.”

You could hear sniffling.

“You can’t kill our son.” The woman begged.

“No,” he said slowly, “Not yet at least. We need trial periods.”

“Ashen, please-“

“I sacrificed everything for him!” A shriek followed by a gruntled groan came from the woman and you wondered what he was doing to her, “I cut the plan short, of us taking the capitol, because of him! I was minding my own business that night before I got the call. I took the risks, I found the refuge, I found the goods, and I called an initiative, and now look at us, we’re all safe. And our son just also happens to be the possible cure for all of this. If Hydra completing this mission requires my son’s life, so be it.”

“I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let you pick at him with needles and knives. He is my baby boy!”

“Was, honey, was.” You could hear a loud smack, “And after him, you’re next.”

“What?”

“Now let’s get back in there and congratulate him.”

You could still feel your heart beating away inside of your ears as you heard the shuffling of their feet, followed by the closing of a door.

This was way too much information for you to process. This was too much for you. Suddenly, you cursed Bucky for making you work intel. Intel was the worst part.

You knew this information and now you had to tell him without freaking out, or worst, freaking him out.

It didn’t take much longer for a familiar face to turn the corner of the stairwell.

His blue eyes met yours over his scarf.

“What the hell are you doing here, I said eleventh —-“ his voice faltered as he watched your stricken face. His own eyes fell and he raised a hand to the back of your head and caressed it softly, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I—“ you whimpered out. Bucky hushed you as he leaned his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes tightly together, “I—he—“

“Breathe. Breathe. Breath for me.”

You took in a deep breath and controlled your breathing.

When you opened your eyes he was staring straight down at you.

“I saw him.” Bucky’s eyes darted over your face, knowing exactly what you were talking about. Who you were talking about, “I saw him.” You repeat again. He nods, “I can’t stay here, Bucky. Not when he’s here. He killed mom and dad, Bucky.” You whimpered into a cry.

“Hey, shhhh,” he brought his hand to your jaw and ran his thumb there gently, “shhh. I’m sorry,” he straightens his head up over yours and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I’m sorry you saw him.”

You ran your hands up his chest and softly pushed him away from you. Bucky’s face fell, along with his hands at his sides. You looked away from him, running the back of your sweater-clothed hand underneath your nose.

You needed to create distance. You and him, whatever it was, was no more.

“I overheard them.”

“Them?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes, them. Him and what I can only imagine is maybe his wife? I don’t know, it was another woman. The little boy’s mother.”

Bucky took a deep breath.

“Okay, and what did they say?”

“He’s going to kill him. He can potentially save us, save all of us, but instead he’s going to kill him, I—I—“ you were freaking out as your ran both hands down your face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The boy!” You shouted quietly, pointing to the direction where the stairs continued. “Ashen is after the boy. He’s going to kill the mom and he’s after the boy, too.”

“What? Why? Why is he after his own son?”

You took a deep breath and met Bucky’s gaze again. His jaw was tight and he looked apprehensive.

“They think the cure is in his plasma.” You say slowly and carefully, knowing how much weight the words held.

“The cure?”

“For the virus. The boy’s blood.”

Bucky let out a long breath, running a hand through his own hair now and pulling on it.

“And why does he want the child dead? Does he not want the cure?”

“No, no he does.”

“What? He wants it just for himself?” You whined as you looked away again, “Y/N, you came on this mission for this reason. It’s for you to give me the important information you have right at this moment. Tell me, why does he want the boy dead?”

“He says he wants to make enough just for Hydra and Sword,” Bucky’s face went pale, “I’m assuming it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else after that having access to it. He kills the boy, no more cure for anyone else.”

“That,” his tongue clicks, “That’s absurd. Hydra wants to recruit more bad, not kill off the remaining race. It defeats the purpose of world domination.”

“I think they have a change of plans. They said they want to control the rest of the world.”

“With a raging virus? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. That was all he said before I heard him choking his wife. I don’t know what they plan to do after they go out there, protected. I don’t know.”

“And in that vile? What was in the vile?”

“I don’t know, a trial drug. But nothing as good as the boy’s blood.”

Bucky lets out a long breath as he walks back and forth, clearly stressed and overwhelmed. You watched him, intrigued. You’ve never seen him worry like this before.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mumbles under his breath, “What do we do? What do we do.”

You stare down at his feet as they continue to move across the floor.

“I think it’s obvious what we need to do.”

“What?”

“We need to take him.” You say seriously, looking Bucky dead in the eye.

“We need to take him.” He says back.

“We can’t let Hydra have access to the cure and let the rest of the world burn and we can’t get him get killed.” You place a hand on Bucky’s arm to stop him and he looks up at you. You could practically see the emotions in his eyes, “He’s just a little boy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t just go in there and take the kid. I can’t just kidnap someone’s child.”

“Why not?” You ask simply.

Bucky lets out a scoff.

“What?”

“Bucky look at the stakes here. He wants him killed, he’ll build an army to dictate the rest of the world. Bucky we have no other option. This is the end of the world. There is no time for common courtesy.”

“Okay. Okay, just relax. We need to plan this through, okay? So far us two and his parents are the only ones who know about him right?”

“I mean his doctor probably knows too and also the scientist he’s working with. The man who probably sent in those viles.”

“Those viles can be good too, right? We need to take those, too. At least a few. There has to be a reason they brought them in. Maybe they aren’t timely useless. Trial drug or not.”

“So we take the boy, now—”

“We can’t, y/n.” Bucky says strictly. You don’t expect his hand to cup your cheek again. It takes your breath away. Why was he behaving this way? “He said he’ll wait anyway. They probably need to run tests first. We still have two and a half months left in here. If we take him now, they’ll notice he’s gone, and Hydra’s already suspecting there’s intruders inside the wall. It’s too risky. We need to wait,” he runs his hand over your chin and tilts his head slowly to the side. A pained look is in his eyes, “I know you want to, and I want to, too, but we need to do this carefully.”

“So what do you suggest?” Your voice comes out rough.

“I don’t know, maybe we can keep an eye on him or something.” He says. “His father works here, maybe you’ll see him around. Warm up to him. Make sure he’s safe.”

“Ashen knows what I look like.”

Bucky nods.

“I know that. Maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe I can find where he stays in the building. I’ll figure something out. And you’ll be safe, I promise. He won’t see you.”

You believe Bucky’s words and you nod.

“Okay.”

“What do you think? Should we risk him seeing me?” He says with a small smile on his face.

You look at him incredulously.

“Are you dumb?”

“What?” He asks like it’s nothing.

“You’re Captain America’s best fiend. If you really think he wouldn’t recognize you right away and run and tell his dad, you’re insane.”

___

It had been a successful day. It was exhausting and you and Bucky were both clearly burnt out, emotionally and mentally. A lot happened for both of you. You both took a shower, individually of course, you had dinner and you finally got him to watch the first half of Titanic. It was a long night.

But it wasn’t the end of the day yet.

You sat on the bed crisscross and in your PJs, looking out into the city, deep in thought.

Bucky moves over to you and across the bed and you close your eyes tightly together, feeling the bed dip down. You can feel him as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll save him, okay? Imagine how much Steve will love us when you come back not only with a life saved, but with the cure.” His words are gentle and sweet, but hold so much weight over you.

You couldn’t do this. You made that promise a few days ago.

“Look, Bucky I don’t think we should do this anymore. Our agreement.” You say quietly, your voice breaking off at the end.

He went still and you felt a cold rush where he began to remove his hand from your skin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that—“

“Bucky—“

“I didn’t know you weren’t in the mood. I’m sorry.”

“No,” you say quietly and so heartbreakingly slow that you know he can feel it too. Why did it feel this way? “It’s not that.” You slowly turn around to face him. He’s got both arms stretched down on the bed below him, palms down, and he’s staring at you like he was afraid you would hurt him again like you did the other night. You looked away from him and pushed yourself away to give you both more room to breathe

“Sweetheart—“

“I’ve decided to go out with Pietro again,” You watch as his eyes drop from your own to the spot just next to your arm. He swallows hard and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that isn’t necessarily jealously, “We want to see where it goes. I know we’ll only be here a little while longer, but who knows the future, right? What if I see him again?”

Bucky swallows again and clears his throat.

“It wouldn’t feel right doing that to him.”

“Oh.”

“So, uh,” he straightens himself out until he’s standing, and he pulls his shirt down in a sort of fidgety way you almost find adorable if it weren’t for the heartbroken look in his eyes, “you’re gonna date?”

You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t bare.

Why did it feel like this?

“Yeah. I deserve someone that will take care of me like that, don’t you think?”

Bucky’s eyes are unreadable at that point. This was what he wanted, right? For you to move on and meet someone better for you?

“You’ll find a guy your age, you don’t want an old thing like me, anyway.”

“You do.” It hurt him to say it. It fucking destroyed him in the goddamn core.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe , @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 , @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x y/n #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #bucky

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harryrunmeoverpls · 2 years

Text

strawberry ice cream🍓 dylan o’brien

where dylan appears on a talk show for an interview. They discuss a variety of things, but when it comes to his and y/n's great connection, he can't stop himself from gushing about her.

tw: tbh… there’s some dom!dylan towards the end bahahah

a/n: go to my wattpad to see more :D

Dylan’s more than happy.

He's finally got everything he's wanted and more. So when he got invited to be a guest on Jimmy Fallon's talk show to talk about it, he immediately responded with a huge YES. The crowd cheered as he walked on stage, sitting down on the couch and grabbing the mug on the desk. He looked super charming, his hair long and his facial hair nice and trimmed. He wore a tight-fitted black sweater that flattered his broad shoulders and black tight denim jeans. Once the audience has died down, Jimmy begins the interview. They discuss his previous films and how difficult it was to film and perform in them. The conversation goes easy, with a lot of laughter.

"I meant to mention when you walked in here," Jimmy starts another topic. "I see you still have your long hair cut, which looks amazing on you by the way."

"Thank you, actually Y/n told me to keep it." That was completely true. She saw the growth of Dylan's hair and she begged him not to cut it. He was totally okay with that, because Y/n scratching his hair was something he felt like he couldn't live without.

"And speaking of Y/n, we've all just got to know this," Jimmy says while pointing outwards to the crowd. "How's it like being such a busy man while dating such a beautiful girl like Y/n?"

Dylan's face lights up at the chance to talk about her.

"Ah, you know when you got such an amazing girl like her you make time. I find myself being more attached to her every single day. Matter a fact, where are you? Y/n, come here baby!" Y/n comes from the darkness of backstage, and the crowd starts clapping once they see her face. She smiles wide and bright, and waves at the crowd.

"That's my baby!" Dylan exclaims, his eyes wide open as he takes in the beauty of Y/n. She looked so perfect. Her green satin bodycon dress accentuated her curves, and her hair was left long down to her butt. She looks at him solely from backstage, smiling and blowing kisses. He couldn't believe she was his.

"So is it love?" Jimmy asks.

"I'm in love, yes. Without a doubt." Dylan says in response to the question.

"I mean, we can all see you're in love by the way you're staring at her. You've nearly got heart eyes right now, don't you?" Jimmy cracks jokes, and the crowd laughs back.

"I couldn't agree with you more. Look at her, dude! I still can't believe she's mine after all this time. It's fucking crazy." Dylan says. When he glances backstage, he sees Y/n smiling softly. He mouths an "I love you" and she blushes as the crowd erupts in applause.

"So, when did you realize you were in love with her? I had to ask."Jimmy asks as he sips his water, "Like when was the time when you were just like, I really want to be with this girl?"

"Uh, actually I don't think there was a time where I was just like "I really wanna be with her", because I think I always knew. Of course, I've felt that way at times, and I still do, but I feel like I've always known it. Since the first time we met." Dylan says as he shifts around on the couch. And it's true. Even at times when he was in denial, he knew it was going to be her he wanted.

"But when I first fell in love..." Dylan trails off for a second. He rests his chin in his palms as he leans against the armrest, thinking about Jimmy's question.

"...I don't know. I really don't. It came so naturally, I don't think I can pinpoint exactly when," Dylan starts. "I think it was small things. How I always wanna talk to her. I literally wanna text her about the most random shit ever." He lets out a chuckle as he scratches his facial hair. "Or like the late-night trips to the grocery store, and how every time we go she just has to get one of those mini ice cream cone things. Literally every time, and if we somehow don't remember to get one she gets super sad." The crowd laughs at Dylan's statement and Jimmy hushes them down.

"How does it feel, to be this in love?" Jimmy continues on about the topic.

"It feels amazing, Jimmy. She's like a breath of fresh air." Dylan says. "I just wanna scream and shout it to the whole world, It's so insane."

"Do it," Jimmy says. "I mean you're on national Tv, why don't you-"

"WOO! I'm in love!" Dylan interrupts him, now jumping on the couch like a little kid. He looked silly doing it, a grown man jumping on the couch with dress shoes on and everything. His tall body made the couch sink in and back up again. "I'm in loveee!"

Y/n smiles and laughs at him jumping on Jimmy's couch. His hair's now untamed, and he runs his fingers through his hair before looking at Y/n and making a heart with his hands while continuing to jump on Jimmy's couch. She gives him one back.

“Hey! Don't ruin my seats, man! You weren't kidding." Jimmy laughs and so does the crowd, clapping at Dylan's act of love.

"Okay, okay! Sorry." He giggles a bit before sitting back down in his seat. It takes a while for the crowd to die down again, and when it does, Jimmy gets back to the topic.

"Actually, thanks to Dylan we have a video on Y/n getting sad about the ice cream from his Instagram story," Jimmy states, the video now playing on the big screen for the crowd to see. As the video begins, Y/n rushes to the spot next to Dylan. Before she can fully sit down, he takes her wrist and pulls her into his lap. In the process, her silky dress rides up, and Y/n lets out a little scream as she feels Dylan's palm on her ass, shielding her from the audience. The crowd reacts to the sight with a variety of exclamations.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Jimmy, who seemed to be more concentrated on the video than anything else, asked the two.

"Nothing, Jimmy!" Y/n says as lets out a giggle for only Dylan to hear, and a dangerous smile tugs at his lips in response. Jimmy gives them an odd look, and the audience chuckles as he returns his gaze to the video.

"Dylan! I don't go in this with you this one time and you forget my cone!" Y/n whines at the emptiness of her hands, right where the cone should be. She remembers the taste of the creamy strawberry ice cream and the crunchy strawberry bits and she gets even more upset.

"I'm sorry!" Dylan puts his hands up in surrender, looking at the camera. He comes over to her and showers the tops of her head with kisses, making his way to do the same to her face.

The video ends. Y/n hides her face in Dylan's sweater, whining in embarrassment. "Dylan! Why would you give that to him? I look like such a brat." She complains, her voice muffled in his sweater but loud enough for the crowd to hear.

"Oh, shush. You're my spoiled brat." Dylan bounces his leg and rolls his eyes, making Y/n bounce along on his lap. "Shhh," he whispers as he pats her back like a child. His other hand still remains on her ass.

"Dylannn," Y/n laughs, putting her arms to his chest and pushing to try to get away, only for Dylan's grip to get tighter.

"Guys she acts like this, but she loves being babied," Dylan says to the crowd. Jimmy laughs as he fixes his collar, getting more comfortable in his seat. "Man, I don't blame Y/n for being mad at you bout the ice cream. It was that one time! And you managed to forget." He laughs.

"Not you too!" Dylan shouts at him while letting out a loud chuckle, still bouncing his leg for Y/n.

"No no no, I completely agree with Jimmy. You suck, Dylan." Y/n says against his shoulder.

"Um, like you said, it was only that one time." Dylan shoots back.

"What if it was my last straw?" Y/n challenges and the crowd lets out laughs at the two's petty argument.

"Alright, how bout after this we go straight to the store and I'll buy you all the ice cream that smart mouth desires? Hm? How's that sound?" Dylan says as he pets her head, her hair soft against his palms.

"Alright guys, thanks for comin' out, I'mma third wheel Y/n and Dylan for the ice cream, so goodnight New York!" Jimmy shouts and Dylan and Y/n both wave goodbye to the crowd. Her head's still buried in Dylan's shoulder, who's still bouncing his leg and petting her on the head.

"Ready for that ice cream?"

go check out my wattpad ! <3

#dylan o'brian gifs #dylan obrien #teen wolf #american assassin #dylan o’brien imagine #x reader #maze runner #tyler posey #stiles stilinski #stiles x you

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

Text

Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely.

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek @megumifushi @bleueluna @gojos-mochi @delammi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #domain expansion #infinite void #ibye series

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raviotherabbit · 3 years

Text

Reunion Tour - Chapter 1

note: this is an extended version of these two posts, with an ending added on.

[first] - [next] read it on ao3!

Chapter 1: Familiar Circumstances Wild and Warriors meet each other again.

- - -

There were quite a few things Wild wanted to do this weekend. Like maybe sleep in for a bit, maybe cooking a special breakfast. They’d even been planning on visiting little Zelly, a promise that her mother was sure to scold them for not keeping.

Instead, they were rudely awoken by a rough collision with the dirt, and they quickly realized they weren’t in their soft waterbed in Zora’s Domain anymore. Blearily blinking their eyes open, Wild feels like they’ve been hit by Ruta’s Cryonis again.

They’re in the castle courtyard of Warriors’ time. Which, as they seem to recall, is tens of thousands of years removed from their own era.

“Oh great,” Wild scowls as the golden light fades behind them. Ten years since their tearful goodbyes with their fellow heroes, and all of a sudden, Hylia’s playing games again.

Wild pushes themself off the ground, dusting whatever they can off with their one arm. It’s only then, when several halberds are pointed right at their face, that they realize they have an audience.

“Stop right there!” one of the soldiers, presumably a higher ranking officer, shouts. “Put your hands in the air!”

Wild frowns, but some part of their mind still remembers Warriors’ lectures to respect authority in his era. It was always so annoying, especially since he was the only one who cared so much about how they were perceived by the guards, but the anger in his eyes after Wild’s third infraction for trespassing (it’s not like those people were USING their roofs!) was enough to convince them to behave. So, after a moment of hesitation, they raise their arm above their head.

“Both hands!” The guard juts his halberd closer to Wild’s face.

“This is all I’ve got, man.”

A lower ranking guard lifts the side of Wild’s poncho. “They’re telling the truth, sir,” they announce, gesturing to their missing right arm.

“W-well!” the officer stammers, and Wild can’t help but smirk. “Take them to a cell! Trespassing on castle grounds is no laughing matter!”

Wild rolls their eyes as one of the soldiers forcefully grabs their left arm. “You’re gonna regret this, you know.”

“Quiet you!” the senior officer snaps at them. “I’ll have no disrespect from magicians who infiltrate our defenses against the crown!”

“Fine,” Wild scoffs. “Hey, while you’re processing my intake paperwork or whatever, could you tell my brother where I am? He’ll be sooooo worried about me.”

The senior officer’s eye twitches. One of the lower ranking guards whispers, “It is protocol to inform citizens of incarcerated family members.”

“Alright! Alright!” the senior officer throws his hands up in frustration. “Just tell me and get out of here!”

“He’s the hero, Link. Ever heard of him?” Wild forces down a laugh as the officer’s face turns red. “Tell him Wild’s in prison again, and it’s not their fault this time!”

“Take them away!” the senior officer points the guard holding them towards the dungeon. “Now!”

And even though they’re being dragged into the dreaded dungeons of Hyrule Castle, Wild can’t help but laugh the entire time.

- - -

“You’re going to be in big trouble,” Wild lightly scratches at the rusty bars of their jail cell. They’re sitting on the nasty dungeon floor, legs crossed. “Seriously, it’s not too late to let me go.”

The guard stationed outside their cell sighs. “I’m not in charge of that.”

Wild huffs, pouting to themself. A little recognition wouldn’t hurt, would it? They were here all the time a decade ago! And even then, everyone knew they were with Wars. These kinds of theatrics and blunders are just rude!

“So, is Commander Link really your brother?”

Wild’s ear twitches when the guard speaks up. “Commander, huh? Wars got a promotion?”

“Uh, I-” the guard stammers. “I don’t-”

“Yeah, he’s pretty much my brother,” Wild answers. “It’s been a bit since I was in town, though.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

The shout rings through the dungeons, a shrill entitlement that Wild would know anywhere.

Wild clicks their tongue. “That’d be him,” they point their thumb towards the entrance to the dungeon. “You know, it’s been nice hanging out with you.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m going to die.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Wild promises, standing up and gripping onto one of the bars just as Warriors rounds the corner, flanked by the senior officer, who now looks flustered.

And that’s Wild’s confirmation that it’s been some time for their brother, as well. He’s sporting some well-manicured stubble, obviously, because everything about Wars is well-manicured. His hair is longer, tied back in a ponytail that reminds Wild of themself. Of course, they didn’t have a chance to do their hair before landing in the past, so it’s all loose and tangled.

“Wild?!” Warriors shouts, mostly in shock. “You’re really here?!”

“Oh thank goodness!” Wild feels like they could cry. “Wars get me out of here!”

“What are you doing here?” Wars ruffles their hair through the bars, a warm smile on both of their faces. “I thought we agreed, no more trespassing.”

“It’s not my fault, it was the portals!” Wild explains quickly. “They wouldn’t listen to me. I just woke up here!”

Hearing Wild’s poor circumstances, Wars snaps back towards the senior officer. “You ARRESTED my brother!”

“Your one-armed brother!” Wild pipes up from behind him.

“My ONE-ARMED- wait,” Warriors turns back to Wild, his tone suddenly soft as he looks at them with concern. “You lost your arm?”

Wild stares at Warriors blankly. “Don’t tell Twilight.”

“I’m not-!” Wars sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How would I even tell him?”

Wild simply shrugs.

“We’re talking about this later,” Warriors asserts, before turning to address the officer once again. His glare is cold, and his fury is burning. “I can’t BELIEVE that you saw a clearly disoriented individual in your courtyard and decided to ARREST THEM, of all things! Who is your superior, I’ll have to inform him-!”

Wild leans over to the guard, who’s standing frozen with fear next to the cell. “I told you,” they whisper.

- - -

“I’m hungry,” Wild whines, tugging at Warriors’ sleeve. “Can we get breakfast somewhere? I didn’t get to eat before I got arrested.”

Wars, in turn, shoots them a look of annoyance. He shrugs them off, continuing down the street. “You aren’t even the slightest bit concerned that the portals are opening again?”

“Please Wars I’m starving,” Wild begs. “I got pulled out of bed.”

Warriors sighs. “Fine. If you’re so insistent on breakfast, you can have free reign of my kitchen-” A sly smile creeps onto his face. “It’s been a while since I’ve had your cooking.”

“Oh, Sir Link, how generous of you, making your guest work!” Wild elbows him with their one good arm. “You see your dear sweet baby brother again after all this time-”

“You’re almost thirty, for Hylia’s sake!”

“Your BABY BROTHER,” Wild continues, “And all you can think about is what they can do for you.”

Suddenly and swiftly, Warriors pulls Wild into a headlock. “Why is it that every hero I meet is such a brat, huh?” he wonders aloud. “First the old man, then the sailor, and now you?”

“Don’t count yourself out, Commander,” Wild retorts, wiggling their way out of Wars’ grasp. “By the way, congrats on that promotion.”

“That was ages ago, it’s like you don’t keep up with me,” Wars scoffs playfully. “But seriously, I need you to cook for me again. I haven’t been the same without your home-cooked breakfasts.”

“Well, if you insist,” Wild relents. “Though I’m going to need a certain sous chef to help me.”

“That’s only fair,” Wars nods in agreement.

Warriors’ home is a townhouse deep in the heart of Castle Town, surrounded by a tall iron fence with pointed tips. The lawn is perfectly manicured, evenly cut grass and freshly trimmed roses. He’s silent as he unlocks the gate, as he leads Wild inside. Wars quickly closes the door behind them both, the sunlight trickling through the windows the only thing illuminating the darkened foyer.

It’s grand inside, that’s for sure. The blue carpet is soft and plush, and the wooden walls are filled with paintings and pictures. But something about it is… empty. Warriors awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck at Wild’s gaze.

“Kinda quiet around here,” Wild comments, but their face goes red when they realize the harshness of their words. “Uh, I mean it’s a really nice place you’ve got, Wars! You must be doing-”

Warriors suddenly places a hand behind Wild’s back, ushering them forward. “Yes, well, Althai is with his mother this week. Come on, the kitchen is this way.”

“Althai?” Wild cocks their head. “Wars, do you have a kid?”

“Yes, but-”

Wild side steps away from Wars. “Wait, I want to meet him!”

“We can’t right now, Wild,” Warriors pinches the bridge of his nose, an irritated scowl on his face that reminds Wild of the old man. “Freya and I aren’t… together anymore, and I’d rather not face her wrath if I showed up unannounced.”

Wild blinks. “Oh, I see.”

“So!” Wars quickly snaps out of it. “How about we avoid all that, and instead, we can make your breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Wild smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I was thinking crepes. You still like those, right?”

The tension fades away from Wars, and he grins back at his brother. “I’ve always loved your crepes.”

- - -

“You know, I never took you as the braiding type,” Wild remarks over a mouthful of honey crepe.

“Don’t talk while you’re eating,” Wars instinctively responds, one hand focused on Wild’s hair while he uses the other to take a bite of his own crepe.

“Aw, you sound like Zelda,” Wild pouts.

“How’s she doing, by the way?” Warriors asks. “You as well. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“We’re both doing good,” Wild announces. “I mean, after the whole revival of Ganondorf business—which is long over, by the way, please don’t worry about that—things have been quiet.” They gasp. “I have a niece now!”

“You do, huh?” Warriors says. “We’re getting old.”

“Ick, don’t remind me,” Wild sticks their tongue out. “I’m planning on staying as young and childlike as possible.”

“Again, you’re almost thirty.”

“Shut up!”

Warriors laughs at Wild’s outburst. He finishes the end of Wild’s braid, securing it with a hair tie. “All done.”

“Thanks for that, Wars,” Wild says as Wars loops around to sit across from them. “I usually get Sidon to do it, but with the one arm-”

Warriors raises a hand to stop them. “I get it, don’t worry.” His face sours quickly. “We should address the moblin in the room.”

“Right,” Wild sighs. “I definitely should not be here.”

“You’re not an unwelcome guest, but…” Warriors crosses his hands in front of him. “I haven’t heard of any black-blooded monsters again, have you?”

Wild shakes their head. “Nothing of the sort.”

“So whatever issue this is, it’s new,” he reasons. “How likely do you think it is that the two of us will be dragged away to another time together?”

“Based on past experience?” Wild questions. “That will almost certainly happen.”

“Great,” Wars rubs at his temples in agitation.

“Honestly, I’m just glad to get in at the beginning this time,” Wild admits. “You guys already knew everything by the time I joined! That wasn’t fair.”

“Easy, soldier,” Wars pats their head, much to Wild’s chagrin. “Eat up, it seems like we have somewhere to be soon.”

Wild raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Congratulations, you’re going to meet your nephew,” Wars grimaces, crossing his arms together. “We’re going to my ex-wife’s house.”

- - -

"Just let me do the talking."

Wild shoots Wars a suspicious look. The two of them are standing in front of an ornate wooden door, leading into a nice stone house on the edge of the city. "She can't be that bad."

"Whatever you're thinking, Freya's worse," Warriors insists, practically sweating bullets.

Wild rolls their eyes, before reaching forward and slamming the iron knocker into the door repeatedly.

"Wild!" Warriors grabs their hand, yanking them back.

"You were taking too long!"

"I would have knocked eventually, now I have to rush through this," he hisses, pulling Wild up to eye level. "Don't annoy her, don't break anything. Don't be yourself."

"That's so rude!" Wild squirms in his grasp. "Let go, I've only got the one arm!"

“Link?”

Wars drops Wild onto the stone steps below them as he finally notices Freya at the door. She has long, dark, curled hair, pulled back into a bun. She worriedly looks down at Wild, who’s pouting on the floor at their aches.

“Freya!” Wars immediately has a wary smile on his face. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“Uh, yes…” she claps her hand together, suddenly gesturing inside. “Please, please, come in!” Freya turns over her shoulder and yells, “Althai! Your dad’s here!”

“Dad!” a small voice shouts from elsewhere, and suddenly, a child darts in and latches onto Wars’ leg. “Dad, I missed you!”

“Let me see you!” Wars lifts the kid, holding him up to his face. Aside from his tan complexion and curls, Althai is a little clone of his father, with freckled cheeks and shiny gold hair. “How are you bigger already, Alt? It’s only been a few days!”

Althai giggles, and much to Wild’s surprise, Freya laughs as well.

As Warriors turns to Wild, he balances his son on his hip. “Althai, this is your Uncle Wild.”

“Oh.” Noticing Wild for the first time, Althai almost turns smaller in his father’s grasp. “Hi,” he says, shyly offering a little hand for Wild.

“It’s nice to meet you, Althai,” Wild smiles warmly, shaking his hand.

“Uncle Wild, huh?” Freya abruptly speaks up, a scowl on her face. “Althai, how about you show our guest the garden?” Her gaze turns to Wars, who swallows nervously as he places his son back on the ground. “I need to talk to your father.”

“Um. Okay,” Althai takes Wild’s hand, guiding them past his parents. “This way.”

“Alright,” Wild agrees. Before Althai can drag them away completely, they wink at Wars. A viable alternative for a thumbs up, of course.

- - -

Freya keeps a nice garden, Wild decides. They’re sitting on the stone path, dividing the flowers from the herbs. It’s well-manicured, unlike Wild’s own attempt at a vegetable garden a few years back. Bees buzz by, which they idly watch fly along.

Althai’s got his nose buried in a book, but since he’s a kid, Wild’s willing to let such a faux pas slide. He hasn’t said a word since they left the house, though, and they’re starting to get a bit antsy.

“So…” Wild drums their fingers on their leg. “What’re you reading?”

“Uh, it’s a book,” Althai says.

Wild nods. “Sure, sure. Of course.”

Silence hangs over the two of them again. This kid is nothing like the little firecracker Zelly is, Wild realizes.

“Do you really have one arm?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Wild lifts their poncho, showing off their missing arm again. “See? Pretty cool, huh?”

“Woah.” Althai abandons his book, inspecting them closer. “How did it happen?”

“Ohhhh, what a story,” Wild recounts, putting on their best spooky voice. “I was journeying through some caves with my friend, when suddenly, we came upon this evil man, who was put down there for trying to hurt Hyrule. When we got close, he heard us and woke up! And then, he used his evil, corrosive magic to-”

“Eep!” Althai shouts, hiding his face in the green cloth of Wild’s poncho.

Fuck!

“No, no!” Wild tries to amend, pulling back the poncho to reveal Althai’s face. “I was just- I was kidding! The arm was sick, and we had to get rid of it so I could be healthy. No bad men! No evil magic!”

“Oh,” Althai sits on the ground next to Wild. “Okay.”

Wild ruffles his hair. “You like stories, don’t you, kid?”

“Yeah,” Althai picks at the grass.

“Well, has your dad ever told you the story about his journey with the other Heroes across time?”

Althai perks up, nodding. “Mhm! All the Links!”

“Well, did you know I’m one of those Links?” Wild gestures to themself. “It’s true! I’m from thousands of years in the future!”

Althai gasps. “Really?!”

“Yes, really,” Wild confirms. “You know, I’ve got a few stories about your dad from back then. Stories I’m sure he never told you.”

“Tell me!” Althai jumps up, tugging on Wild’s shoulder. “Tell me tell me tell me!”

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Wild pulls the kid into their lap. “How about… the time we lost him on the coldest mountain in Hyrule?”

- - -

“So,” Freya crosses her arms, looking out the window. Her ex-husband sits across from her at the kitchen table. “That’s the Hero of the Wild in my backyard, isn’t it?”

“Er, yes,” Wars awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Yes it is.”

“Alright, Link,” she pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “What happened?”

"Freya, please, it's none of your concern."

"None of my-?!" Freya is taken aback. "How about this, Link. Is it another journey?"

Warriors nods. "Most likely, yes."

"So then Althai needs to stay with me for who knows how long," she reasons. "Which means I need to get his things from your place, and I'll be making the trip to his school to pick him up for weeks. Not to mention the fact that I'll have to comfort my kid over his father's absence."

"I don't have a choice!" Wars reminds her. "Do you think I want to miss my time with Althai?"

"I'm not saying that, Link!" Freya corrects. "I'm saying that this very obviously affects me, whether you'll admit it or not." She covers his hand with her own. "Tell me what happened, alright? Just because we're not married doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Friends, huh?

"I know you're excited to see Wild, again," Freya smiles. "It's been so long, you're allowed to want to see your friends."

"Even if it means leaving Althai?" Warriors frowns. He flips his hand to hold hers.

"He'll be alright," Freya says. "He's tough, just like his dad. He'll be waiting here when you get back."

"When I get back," Wars echoes. "Yes, you're right! We'll visit when we can, and you and Althai can meet all of them!" Wars suddenly takes both her hands. "I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Thank you, Link," Freya sighs in relief. "How about we invite those two rascals back in? I'd love to get to know your brother."

"That's a great idea," Warriors grins. "I knew you were my best idea maker."

"Always have been."

- - -

“I’ll see you soon, Alty,” Wild kneels down to pat the kid’s head. “Remember, if your dad doesn’t let you do something, tell him that Uncle Legend would.”

“Wild, what are you telling my kid?” Wars crosses his arms and scowls. Once again, the image of Time and his disappointing glare comes right to Wild’s mind.

“Nothing!” Wild steps aside. “Just saying he should stay in school! Stuff like that!”

“Sure.” Wild can tell by his tone that Warriors doesn’t believe them, but he instead chooses to scoop Althai up in a hug. “Be good for your mother, my little bookworm. I’ll be back soon! Once this is all done, I’m taking you for ice cream.”

“Alright, Dad!” Althai giggles, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you.” With his free hand, Wars digs through his pockets, producing a key that he offers to Freya. “This is my spare key. Take it, it’s yours.”

“Why thank you, Sir Link,” Freya graciously takes the key. “I’ll be sure to keep all your plants watered.”

And so, Wild and Wars find themselves back on the road, walking side by side as the sun sets. Wild takes a deep breath and sighs, enjoying the fresh air.

This is it.

“You know, Freya was actually very nice,” Wild says, smirking.

Warriors scoffs. “Oh, quiet you.”

“You’re still so dramatic,” they remark. “I can’t believe a word you say.”

“Hush,” Wars wraps an arm around Wild’s shoulder, drawing them close. “I’m trying to enjoy having my brother back, and you’re ruining it.”

Wild laughs, but before they can respond with their own witty comeback, there’s a bright light. Blinking through the brightness, the heroes find a portal in front of them, its golden swirls welcoming and inviting.

“Well, I guess it’s time,” Wild says. “You ready, Commander?”

“I guess I am, Chef,” Wars smiles.

“Aw, it’s cute you think I’m professionally trained.”

And so, once again, two of Hylia’s heroes step through a portal again, with neither an idea of where they’re going nor a care in the world.

#linked universe #lu wild #lu warriors #reunion tour au #rav's writing #fanfic

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