#we love boys who physically maneuver their mans to where they want them to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

Note

That’s the golf cart boy that helps your family when you go to the country club and play golf and you ask him to teach you how to swing properly so he can put his arms around you

“I missed.” Y/N huffs as she watches her golf ball sail through the air and disappear into the lake behind her target, her shoulders slouching and mouth dipping into a subdued frown. This is her third failed attempt yet. “You’re utter shit at teaching for someone who’s been working here so long.”

Harry simply gives the amateur a crooked grin from where he’s standing off on the sidelines, his lean arms crossed over his stomach nonchalantly as he waits for her to finish walking towards to him. He takes the bait for their usual banter, snorting in amusement at her fiery reaction. “I’m an amazing golf coach; it’s not my fault you have no talent. I can only build on people’s skills, not pull them out of my ass and hand them over on a silver platter. Maybe if you actually practiced like I told you—”

“Maybe if this sport wasn’t so fucking boring,” she bites back, using the end of her golf club to nudge him pointedly in his sturdy chest, “I would be stimulated enough to try.”

Harry purses his lips to hide a filthy smirk, taking the tool from her and tossing it into the bag across the backseat of his cart. He turns back to face his conditional student, one of his brows inching upwards snidely. “Are you saying you’re not stimulated enough?”

Y/N’s features crack into a scowl at his inappropriate joke. “Hilarious. I bet you’re a hit among pre-teens, aren’t you?”

“I am, yeah!” He quips brightly, exaggerating an innocent smile as he rounds the side of the vehicle and mounts into the driver’s spot. He parts his legs widely as he gets comfortable, and she has to restrain the urge to rake her gaze down the unbelievably short trousers riding up his thick thighs. He pats at the seat beside him symbolically, silently requesting that she join him. “But I’m also great with the ladies. Get a hole in one every time. Literally.”

The girl releases a sound of aggravated disgust at his stupid self-absorbed comment, trudging through the wet grass and rolling her eyes in exasperation as he giggles boyishly. She hauls herself up into the front seat, plopping onto the leather surface with a deadpan expression written all over her face. “You’re despicable.”

“Ooh, that’s a neat new word! Are you working on expanding your vocabulary? Proud of you, love.”

“Just shut up and drive, Tiger Woods.”

“To our usual spot?”

She maneuvers to position herself accordingly, propping her feet onto his lap as he finagles the buggy into the designated setting. She fixes her frilly pastel blue skirt over her thighs as she does so, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sly eyeful. Knowing him, he’d definitely take the chance.

Y/N taps the tip of her shoe against his lean tummy for significance, shrugging her brows impassively as she leans her head back against the nearest railing. “Where else would we go?”

“I dunno, maybe back to the club so your family isn’t left wondering where you are? S’kinda rude to make them wait,” he pauses for a moment to glance down at the watch decorating his wrist, humming to himself in realization, “especially because lunch is already being served. Food’s gonna get cold.”

“They can wait five minutes. It takes longer than that to starve to death.”

“Pretty brutal.”

“What is?”

Harry glimpses over at her with his tongue pressed along the inside of his cheek, condescension scribbled all over his demeanor. It’d been infuriating if he wasn’t so hot. Well, it’s infuriating regardless, but at least his attractiveness allows her to benefit from his antics.

The young man’s accent holds the same type of smugness slathered across his plush lips and defined cheekbones, and his words send a flush of heat down the knobs of her spine. “That you’d rather get fucked in an equipment shed than spend quality time with your relatives.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him pettily, muscling down the warmth rising up her neck. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing much.” He bobs his shoulders easily, tone dismissive and indifferent as he secures one bejeweled hand onto the steering wheel, the other finding perch above her knee. He gives it a playful squeeze, his dimples winking at her flirtatiously when she jolts at the iciness behind his chunky rings. “Just an observation, s’all.”

“I’m not sleeping with you so you can make observations.” She grumbles, but despite her attitude towards him, she doesn’t make any conscious effort to shed his touch. His skin is always so soft, and the sensation of his large palm resting anywhere on her body feels so fucking right.

“Aren’t you?” Harry inquires with snarky pretension, dropping the sole of his sneaker onto the acceleration pedal and causing the car’s ignition to roar to life. The tiny vehicle takes off across the slopes of the golfing meadow, jumping and creaking as it rides over all the dips and hills of the valley, trees and flags whizzing by as it speeds towards an all too familiar trail. “Because last time I checked, you seem to love it when I observe you on your knees. Beg for it, even.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches tightly at his taunting. “Piss off.”

“How’s that go again? Something along the lines of,” he sweetens his voice down into a dramatic pleading lilt, mimicking her moans from the past, “‘You taste so fucking good, Harry.’ and ‘I love it when you cum on my face, baby.’ and ‘I want you to fuck my mouth, daddy. Want it so bad.’”

The young woman’s teeth squeak from how hard she’s biting back her anger. “Asshole.”

“Is that not right? Is that not what happens?” Harry implores with a ridiculing pout and fluttering lashes, going out of his way to ride on her last nerve. His fingers begin to crawl higher up her leg, sneaking beneath the billowing edge of her skirt and tracing random shapes along the suppleness of her inner thighs, pinching and twisting at the flesh until he gets a physical response. He adores seeing her squirm against the waxy seat as she suddenly grasps onto his arm needily, especially because she does absolutely nothing to deter him from continuing. “Sorry, my memories get jumbled sometimes. There’s just so many of them, y’know? You whimper and whine for my cock so often, I can hardly keep track of every single time. Maybe I should start a transcript or summat, hm?”

Y/N’s voice pipes up low and venomous, but there’s a trembling undercurrent to it that she can’t deny. “If you keep being a dickhead, this’ll be the last one.”

Harry tuts conceitedly, cooing at her as his digits dive deeper into her bottoms, hooking into her panties and toying with her clit beneath the damp material. He doesn’t break his gaze away from the expanse of grass before them, but his arrogant simper is wide enough that she gets the perfect view of it from his ridiculously handsome side profile. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Get fucked.”

“I’m about to.”

#drabble

292 notes · View notes

kkusuka · 3 years

Text

Anatomy lessons <3

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

genre: smut

synopsis: ushijima is helplessly devoted to volleyball, and his grades reflect that.

cw: anatomically fem reader, vaginal fingering, blowjob (i think that’s it, if anything seems left out let me know!)

a/n: all i could think about is that ushiwaka is canonically stupid and i love that.

based o this request: Studying anatomy and using your body as a physical map- Ushijima ((smut)) I’ve had this imagine suck in my head about Ushijima but like just picture this, Ushijima and Y/N studying together and they both like each other but Ushi doesn’t know how to act on his emotions and Y/N can’t tell if he likes them so they are just running around in circles pinning for each other, but anyways Ushi is studying for anatomy but he just can’t get the female anatomy to stick into his head and he’s getting a bit frustrated and so Y/N is like well I’m a female, you can practice on me and he’s like well shit. Y/N lays down Ushi is gliding his hands over their body as he names the muscles and whatnot, they both get a bit hot and bothered and when Ushi finishes “studying”he’s got an awkward boner and Y/N is like “now it’s my turn to study your anatomy” and they push ushi down and 🤪🤪🤪 please give this to me I’ve been thinking about it ALL DAY!!! -✨Puppy🤩

Shiratorizawa’s reputation was built upon intelligence and elegance.

The students are of the highest degree in not only book-smarts but also athletics. Only the most talented and were persons were allowed in the walls of the academy. Hell, the entrance exam resembled an AP college exam.

“I do not understand.”

Of course, there are always loopholes.

The first being an athletic scholarship. One of the more annoying ways to make it into the school, according to the students. You don't mean to sound mean but, it was blatantly obvious when someone is on athletic help.

But that wasn't what you were dealing with right now. No, it was something the students found way worse.

A recommendation.

Actually, it was an athletic recommendation.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was known before he had even appeared.

You had been the lucky one to sit next to him first, and second, and somehow third year. And through that, you’ve learned more than a few things about him.

Firstly, he was the most amazing volleyball player you have ever seen. He also had so much passion for the sport that it had seemed to rub off on you. By the end of first-year gym class, you knew how to receive a light spike of his.

Second, he was extremely easy to fall in love with. For being constantly aloof and oblivious, he had this pull to him that just roped you in. at first you weren't sure what you felt for the bot, then he had helped you with a project ending the night with a smile and you were done for.

He was also incredibly easy to stay in love with. Once he had your attention he was almost the only person you thought of. Plaguing your mind with fluffy fake dates and worries that he would never like you back.

But he hasn’t said anything for you to believe either of those situations so you sit at a constant stalemate.

And thirdly, he was not only dense but utterly stupid. How was someone so sought after so completely unaware of admiration? Not only his social unawareness, but he was also not the smartest when it came to school.

Then you swooped in, raised his grades a few points, and became his official homework helper. You thought it was a blessing, more time with the man who had your heart, but you underestimated just how much help he needed.

You had no idea how many times you would have to explain the Pythagorean theorem to someone before they understood. (you're sure now that he didn't really understand and he just didn't want to hear it again.)

And anatomy was no exception.

“That’s alright Toshi, do you want to try looking at a different diagram? That might help!”

Opening a new book, you spent another ten minutes staring at the page just looking at it, before staring back up at you. And that's your cue. No more diagrams, he was never going to learn like that.

This was what you called plan visual. somethings, namely science, were better learned but seeing and not memorization.

Letting out a sigh, you closed all of the books and told him to do the same.

“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen.” placing yourself directly in front of the cross-legged man, garnering his full attention, “I'm going to give you an arm and a leg and, let's start with the skeletal system, so just tell me all the bones you can remember.”

Lending your hand you took it in his and gave you a nod. Going up the length of your arm finishing at your shoulder blade, he moved to run a hand along your un-bending leg. Starting at your ankle he kept a constant hand on the back of your knee, keeping your leg hanging in the air.

A few mixed up bones later you finally moved on to muscles. Not only did it take far longer but you could tell he was getting frustrated, if the hand gripping your thigh as he tried to name all the muscles there was any telling.

On his fifth try, you gave him some help and just decided to move on, seeing that it wasn't needed for him to know blood vessels just yet, there was only one other thing he had to do.

Male and female anatomy.

You had tried to avoid the topic but that seemed almost impossible at the moment.

“Is something wrong Y/n?” As he spoke you became all too aware of his hand still on your thigh and how he was staring right at you like he could tell exactly what you were thinking, “the next topic is the reproductive system correct?”

“Erm, ye-yeah, but we don’t have to-”

“Don't be silly, we have to get through all the material that will be on the test. May I have the textbook to reference from?” he spoke as if he was ordering food, completely nonchalant. As if his hand wasn't reaching into your skirt and sliding your panties to the side.

“This unit does not require the breasts so you can keep your shirt on.” he continued to slide your underwear from your legs flipping your skirt, pushing you onto your back. Maneuvering you to how he wanted, you holding your legs spread open and close to your chest, he got to work.

“The outer lips, formally known as the labia majora,” he spoke as he ran a finger down, spreading them open to e your hole clench around nothing. He let out a breath and intently stared at your core.

“Labia minora, inner lips.” running another finger along your lips he collected the wetness that had collected on them, bringing it to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he licked it clean. “A woman creates a natural lubrication to aid in intercourse.”

Deliberately avoiding your clit, he moved to the urethral opening, passing it quickly. Moving to run a hand along your stomach placing where he thought your cervix and womb lay.

“The clitoris, an organ that is completely dedicated to pleasure.” his thumb rubbing small circles around your bud was the final opus for you to let out all the soft whimpers you had so desperately wanted to let out.

Eye’s shooting to meet yours his thumb moved quicker, drawing more pants and wanton moans from your throat.

“Please Toshi, I wanna-”

Your beg must've ripped him away from whatever daydream he lost himself in, roping his thumb away from your clit, a whine escaping you, he moved to his final destination.

“The vaginal hole, where a man enters a woman and makes her his own. It leads straight through the cervix into the womb.” right as he finished two fingers shoved their way into your pussy.

Reattaching his thumb to your clit, he coaxed moan after moan out of you.

Hitting a spot somewhere deep in you, cunt spasming as he rode out you high with slow strokes, “the g-spot, a small area that aids with the female orgasm.”

Taking his fingers to his mouth once more, he watched you let your legs down and close your eyes to help calm your roaring heart. In your bliss, you felt two lips connect to yours, a soft dance between new lovers.

A forehead rested on your hands and ran up and down your sides placing you back into a sitting position.

“y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“We still have one more thing to do.”

Oh right, this lesson was a two-way street.

Crawling to kneel between his crossed legs you palmed his bulge as he leaned back on the chair, bringing his hands behind his head. He watched you take his cock out of its restraints, wrapping your lips around the tip leaning his pre-cum.

He let you pace yourself, don't complain when you came up to explain what you were doing to what.

On the contrary, you could tell all he wanted to do was push your head down and keep it there until his load stuffed your throat. Realizing this was probably the last time you would have control over the boy.

But all seems worth it when he shows you the A+ on the anatomy test.

Maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi is a good student after all.

#ushijima x reader #ushjima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader smut #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

733 notes · View notes

finnyboywolfhard · 3 years

Text

Gross

Richie Tozier x Reader

summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross.

Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo

warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about

word count: 2.1k

The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.

“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.

“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.

“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.

“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.

“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.

“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”

“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.

“Hey Richie?”

“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.

“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”

“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”

“What if we made them stare for another reason?”

“You got an idea?”

“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”

“Please don’t slap me.”

“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”

“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.

“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”

“What should I do?”

“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.

“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.

“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.

“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”

“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”

“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.

Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.

“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”

“Fine.”

“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”

“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”

“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.

“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”

“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.

“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”

“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.

Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about me huh?”

“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.

“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.

“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”

“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.

“What were you really thinking about?”

“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”

“You really want a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.

“Oh and Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.

Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.

“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”

“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.

As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.

“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.

“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.

“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.

“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”

“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”

“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.

“I love you Richie.”

“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.

#richie tozier #richie toizer x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie toizer imagine

371 notes · View notes

hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years

Text

Mother’s Day Drabbles

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Miguel Galindo x Black!Reader, EZ Reyes x Black!Reader, Obispo Losa x Black!Reader

Summary: Four drabbles with my four favorite men from Mayans MC commemorating Mother’s Day with their loves.

Warning(s): Grief, loss of a child in the last drabble (sorry to my bishop girls) but the other ones are all fluffy goodness

Word count: 1,545

AN: It’s almost Father’s Day so y’know what sounds good? Reading some EXTREMELY late Mother’s Day drabbles!! lol. I haven’t posted anything in so long and these were in the drafts so here we are. Enjoy these random ideas that popped into my head. Trying to force myself to get into shorter form writing like drabbles and headcanons. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading! xo

Breakfast in bed - Angel (fluff)

“Daddy shhh! You gots ta be quiet.”

“Lo siento princesa.”

You fought to keep your eyes shut and not smile as they tried and failed at surprising you. You wouldn’t ruin their efforts so you just listened as they came into the bedroom and something was set on your nightstand.

It was silent for a moment before a ball of energy landed firmly on top of you, knocking the wind out of you and fully waking you up.

“Good morning mommy. I made you breakfast in bed.” Your beautiful little girl told you once she saw your eyes open.

A throat cleared and your eyes connected with your husband’s.

“Oh, Daddy helped too.” She added, getting comfortable in your lap as you sat up against your headboard and adjusted the bonnet on your head.

“Oh he did? Well thanks for helping Daddy.” You teased, as he took a seat on the bed next to you.

“Anything for you. Happy Mother’s Day.” Angel leaned in and kissed you on the lips once, twice, three times. The last peck lingered a little too long and the princess was not amused.

“Let her eat! The food is gonna get cold.” She grumbled, and you broke down in giggles. That daughter of yours was a sass machine and she stayed on her daddy’s head. He loved every bit of it.

“Okay, okay.” He relented, a grin on his face. Anything for his girls.

Coming home to a spotless clean house - Miguel (fluff)

As your driver pulled into the driveway of your large home, she sighed knowing your day had only just become. After a full day of work, she knew as soon as you stepped foot in the house you would need to pick up after the kids from their time running the nanny ragged. Then, you’d have to get dinner cooked before wrangling the kids to eat, bathe, and then sleep. No clue if you’d see your husband or if he was having a late night.

You loved your life. You loved your family. Sometimes things could just be a little tiring. But you put that smile on your face and you made your way into the house.

The quiet was the first thing to hit and surprise you. Your home was never this quiet at this time of day. You slowly walked further into the house, your nose guiding you to the kitchen where a delicious aroma caught your attention. As you rounded the corner, you were shocked to see your husband standing at the stove.

“Miguel?” You asked, confused at his presence and the state of the house. Everything was clean and put away. He was at home at a decent time and not off somewhere handling business. Something was going on.

“Hello mi amor.” He walked closer to you before grabbing your face and kissing your lips. You’d missed him today so you added a little pressure to the kiss, but it didn’t last long as there was a burning question on your mind.

“What’s going on? Where are the kids?” You asked, head swiveling, as soon as you ended the kiss, to see if you could spot them. You didn’t even notice Miguel maneuvering you onto one of the kitchen stools.

“The kids are in their rooms, dinner is cooking, the house is clean and you are going to enjoy this chardonnay I bought for you.” He handed you a glass and you took it without complaint. A sweet smile spread across your lips as you realized he did all of this for you.

“You do so many wonderful things for this family. I want you to enjoy your night to yourself. I will handle putting the children to bed and you will relax for the night. Your dinner should be done by the time I get back downstairs but in the meantime, I know you’ve been wanting to catch up on the new season of A Black Lady Sketch Show. It’s queued up in the living room.”

A kid wrangling free night? Your favorite tv show and wine? He already bought you everything you could ask for but this? This is so much better than any present he could have come up with. “How did I get so lucky?” You pondered, a dreamy smile on your face.

“I ask myself the same question every day. Happy Mother’s Day.” He replied, kissing you again before going to fulfill his promise.

Spa day for expectant mom - EZ (fluff)

Knowing what comes with being pregnant and actually experiencing the symptoms are two very different things. You don’t wanna say you underestimated things, but you were in the middle of your third trimester and you weren’t handling things very well.

“EZ!! EZEKIEL!” You hollered for him, from where you sat propped up on the couch. Your back was killing you, you couldn’t see your feet but you knew they were a hot mess, and you just generally felt uncomfortable. You knew it would all be worth it in the end, but the end was taking too damn long to get here.

Your boyfriend had been incredibly understanding of your constant mood swings. When you first told him you were pregnant, he went out and bought a bunch of pregnancy books. He was always reading one that first trimester. Angel would tease him and say he could just google everything, but EZ had always preferred having physical copies of text. He wanted to know everything you’d go through so he could help you deal with it.

You call him now and he doesn’t respond. You grow annoyed, but also slightly concerned because he never doesn’t answer you.

It took several tries but you manage to get yourself off the couch and head back towards your bedroom. When you push the door open, a wide smile breaks out on your face. The lights in the room were dimmed and your favorite candles were lit, bathing the room in a soothing scent. Songs from your ‘self care day’ playlist filled the otherwise silent air. On the bed was the biggest, fluffiest robe you’d ever seen in your life. There was also a basket filled with goodies including face masks, different color nail polish, massage oil, and your favorite snacks.

“What is all of this?” You asked your boyfriend who had almost as big a smile on his face as you did.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d just let your first Mother's Day go by with no acknowledgment, did you?”

You blinked somewhat in surprise. “I...I mean yeah I guess. My first Mother’s Day is next year. Baby Reyes isn’t even here yet.”

“So? You’re carrying our child. You gonna let me spoil you or you gonna keep making excuses why I can’t?” He asked, his eyebrow raised and a sly smirk on his face.

“Spoil away then.” You grinned, holding out a hand for him to take before pampering you for the rest of the night.

Cuddles - Bishop (angst, heed the tw up top please)

The ray from the television was the only light source illuminating the living room. You were laying on your side on the couch, eyes on the tv but not truly paying attention to it. The light from the tv reflected off the tear stains left in her cheeks.

Bishop came back from dealing with club stuff and leaned on the doorway just watching you. He knew it was a rough day for you. Everyday was hard, but today was especially hurtful. He’d be feeling the same way just next month.

He placed his kutte onto the armchair and slipped off his shoes before climbing over you. You jumped a little at his presence but he just gently nudged you up so he could squeeze between you and the back of the couch.

One arm slid under your head and the other rested on your waist as he settled in. The hand on your waist reached out and gently ran a thumb over the little face in the picture frame you held tightly in your hands.

“Our sweet boy.” He whispered, a sad smile on his face.

Your breath hitched and your shoulders began to shake as you silently cried. You missed him so much. The whole day you stayed inside hoping to avoid all the mother celebrations, but that didn’t help. The hurt ran deep and no amount of avoidance could stop it. This day was a special slap in the face and every year the last three years have been spent like this.

Bishop curled the arm under your head until his elbow laid on your clavicle. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

“You’ll always be his mother. That love is forever.” He softly but firmly stated before pecking your shoulder over and over.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in at the feel of him squeezing you tightly. It was comforting. He was always holding you together. He understood your pain and even though it hurt worse some days than others, you knew you had to continue on.

But for right now, you would cry in your man’s arms and hope next year went better.

#mother's day drabbles #angel reyes #ez reyes #miguel galindo #bishop losa #obispo losa #black reader #hhgbyebruh fics

174 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

You'll Dig a Grave with Me

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Dabi/Reader Warnings: cemetery/grave desecration (like digging-up-a-coffin-and-opening-it bad), violence/murder/gore, corpses/corpse-handling, smoking(?) idk it’s kinda small potatoes compared to what i just mentioned Summary: Maybe you need a new boyfriend. One who doesn't make you help him bury dead bodies. Word Count: 1.2K ~~~

“Get in the fucking car.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Look at this face,” Dabi only stops to turn and briefly gesture to his scarred features, “Do these look like smilin’ muscles?”

you relent, as you usually do, and grumble all the way to your shoes and throughout the process of pulling on said shoes, “Get me up at two in the morning and doesn’t even tell me where we’re going - sounds like Touya.”

“Dabi.”

“Dickhead. They’re all the same.”

“You’re funny,” Dabi rolls his eyes as he holds the door open for you, “you ever think about becoming a comedian?”

“Yeah, actually,” shaking your head, you climb into the driver’s seat, “When I’m not being a chauffeur, I’ll totally go out and tell a shitload of jokes about how my boyfriend’s a nationally wanted villain. It’ll be great.”

“I get it, you’re sarcastic. Go to the cemetery down the road from here.”

“Jesus, man, who’d you kill?”

Silence settled in the car, neither party caring enough to clarify whether that was a joke or not. Because with Dabi - it didn’t matter. If he wasn’t joking, it wasn’t anyone's business. Unless anyone was you. Then you were part of the clean up crew.

“That lot?”

Dabi nods and goes to the back of the car to pull out a duffel bag and the shovels buried at the bottom. He follows after you as you approach the body he’d haphazardly left at the end of a row of graves. He should know better than to get sloppy, but knowing Dabi was knowing that he enjoyed the thought of police already swarming the lot when they arrived. He liked the thrill. He liked the opportunity to serve his flames a kindling.

Handing over a shovel, Dabi nods at the lot, “When we hit the coffin, we pry it open and toss this fucker in.”

“It’s new, will anyone visit?”

“Past visiting hours.”

“You, of all people, should know that some people don’t listen to laws.”

“If anyone comes, I’ll kill them, there? Happy?” Dabi shakes his head, lodging the edge of his shovel into the dirt and pulling up the fresh earth.

Another quiet settles over the couple as they pull up the soil covering the rotting dead. You wipe at sweat forming over your brow and jam your shovel into a spot near your foot, walking towards the other corpse as Dabi maneuvers his own shovel to pop open the baby blue coffin of a person who didn’t deserve this perversion of their memory.

Upon closer inspection, you notice how the man’s head and hands are charred beyond recognition of flesh, and his mouth has fallen open into a horrified, toothless scream. Usually, just torching the people he murdered would do all that his manual labor had. This man was different. This man must’ve wronged Dabi closely.

Grabbing underneath the dead man’s armpits, you begin dragging him towards the grave as the telltale creak of a coffin opening rings through the cemetery. Dabi puts a hand up and the man is dropped carelessly outside the rectangular pit - bending down, Dabi pats down the man’s blazer and tugs out a wallet and keys before pocketing both.

“What’d he do to avoid being completely scorched?”

“Just wanted this one to be more personal; some low-level at the old man’s agency,” Dabi picks himself back up to a full stand and kicks the man into the open coffin and nudges his body just enough to ensure no limbs are poking out before going to shut the coffin.

“Maybe you should’ve picked an older spot, huh?” you mumble, crossing towards your boyfriend and plucking a pack of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket and picking one out, “Two bodies don’t fit in one coffin comfortably. And I don’t think either of us is going down there to fish him out.”

“Fuck,” the villain hisses, picking up his shovel only to stab it back down in anger, piercing mother nature in retaliation for an event which she had no control over, “Whatever. Just put the dirt back over them. If they find him, who cares?”

“Probably us when they find him and start asking questions,” placing the cigarette between your lips, you lean over towards Dabi, “Light?”

He ignites a single finger and watches the cigarettes' illumination of cherry and ash before turning back to the grave and murmuring, “Slacker.”

“When I start killing people and making you bury the bodies, then you can call me a slacker,” you sit down on a patch of grass where the dead man once laid, cold and clammy and soulless, “Until then, I’m taking a smoke break.”

You never saw yourself helping the little red-turned-white haired boy you grew up with bury a body he’d murdered in cold blood. You saw yourself having a future with him, in the way children typically grow attached to friends quickly - but actively helping him get away with and hiding evidence of his crimes?

It was wrong. You weren’t an idiot. What you - both of you - were doing was horrid and it would catch up to them eventually.

But Dabi would burn down the world for you and you’d be lying if you said watching it go down in flames after all the pain and misery and hatred it’s churned out wouldn’t be satisfying. All the monsters like Enji could burn and you’d both dance in the flickering light of the flames. All the elitism and fakeness of heroes would crumble and you’d toss the ashes around like rice at a wedding. You’d kiss on the grave of society and giggle over the wreckage you caused together. Because loving Dabi was accepting the chaos he chased. It was changing the ending of the monster and helping him kill Frankenstein.

It was helping him get away with his crimes and cleaning up his corroding body in the wee hours of nightfall.

Dabi huffs in exertion while burying the sins he’d committed only hours prior, he knows he isn’t built for heavy physical labor and he knows that’s exactly why he brought you. He also knows how easy it would be to scare you into crushing that cigarette out right now and coming to his side - but he can’t bring himself to.

The only home he’s ever known and the only person he’s never had to prove himself to, he can’t lose. So he continues to pile dirt atop the bodies while you finish your smoke without whining.

“Got schmutz on your forehead there, darling,” you mumble upon your return, bringing up a thumb to wipe at the dirt staining your lover’s skin.

“You’re not much better,” Dabi nods at your forehead, “Gotta take a bath when we get home.”

“Then will you chill the fuck out and come sleep?”

He merely nods again as you pick up your shovel and catch dirt onto the blade before tossing it down into the filling pit.

No, you never imagined yourself up at three in the morning helping Touya Todoroki hide a body he’d murdered - but there you were. Rewriting the end of a monster and helping him kill Frankenstein, slowly - but surely. Frankenstein and the society that enabled him would die by Dabi’s hand, and you were going to be holding the other hand the entire time.

Because loving Touya was loving Dabi.

#dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya x y/n #touya x reader #bnha x reader

84 notes · View notes

thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

The answer | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3

“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.

"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.

Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:

“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.

“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.

“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.

Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.

Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.

He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.

Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.

When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.

Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.

A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.

Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.

“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.

“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.

“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”

Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.

Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.

Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.

The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.

Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.

Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.

It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.

Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.

You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.

For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.

Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.

A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?

You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.

Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.

“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.

Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.

You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.

The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.

You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.

“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #frankie x reader x santi #triple frontier imagine

106 notes · View notes

deluweil · 3 years

Text

So this is a way Way overdue prompt that I got ages ago, but didn't have the time or muse-cooperation to write.

But I finally managed to write it!!

The prompt was given to me by the lovely @coffeeflavoredcookies : Chris all snuggled up to Buck as he tells him bedtime stories with Eddie standing at the door looking at them fondly.

This is fluff all the way, hope you like it ❣

The house was dimly lit when he got back, at this point Christopher would have usually already been in bed - post bedtime story.

But Buck has been staying the last few days with them after getting hurt on a call. Nothing too bad, mild concussion, some bruised ribs and a now relocated shoulder still stuck in a sling, so things aren't exactly on the normal side.

Buck had trouble understanding Eddie’s insistence that he stays with them, not wanting to be a burden (earning him an eye-roll from Eddie) and reminded him that he shouldn’t have to look after a grown-ass man while having an actual child of his own to take care of, (which resulted in Eddie calling Christopher and asking him, on speaker, what he thought of Buck staying with them for the next few days. Christopher cheered and Buck glared at Eddie, mouthing ‘traitor’ at him.)

The thing is, Buck seems to be unable to understand that whenever he’s hurt, physically or emotionally or just generally off-balance, Eddie is thrown to a loop right with him. Eddie would rather have him near and safe than wonder how he is, if he’s sleeping, eating - taking care of himself.

Back when his leg was crushed, so close to losing Shannon, Eddie was very close to saying to hell with Ali and then Maddie and just take him over to their place.

But Buck wasn't his to keep back then, and to be honest he's not his now, but Ali is long gone and Maddie is super pregnant, giving Eddie the best excuse to bundle him into his truck and take him home.

Sore and tired, Buck mostly slept, crashing on the couch, no matter how many times Eddie tried to get him to crash in the master bedroom, at least during the day.

Eddie got used to returning home from work to find Christopher sitting in the living room either doing his homework or playing or watching TV while Buck slept on the couch. Sometimes Christopher could be found nestled to Buck's side as they both nodded off watching some nature documentary.

Eddie has an album in his phone containing multiple pictures of his boys together. He will never get tired of snapping pictures of them, moments frozen in time, forever.

Eddie took his shoes off at the door and dropped his bag next to them. He showered at the station so he wouldn't waste time with Christopher in favor of washing the day off, he quickly rinsed his hands with soup, a habit left from crazed Covid days, then went in search of his boys.

The house was quiet, and the normally occupied couch was empty. Eddie made his way to Christopher’s room, already recognizing Buck’s low gravel voice, reading what sounded like “I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew”, Buck got Christopher the book a couple of weeks prior to his injury.

He told Christopher that Maddie used to read it to him when he was younger. They read it so many times, that both of them knew it by heart at one point. This is the first time he got to read it to him, if Eddie is not mistaken.

Eddie quietly made his way to the bedroom and stopped to lean on the door frame, taking in the sight in front of him. Christopher was lying in bed snuggled up against Buck’s uninjured side, he was already fast asleep, but Buck kept reading quietly leaning against the headboard.

“Then I dreamed I was sleeping on billowy billows

Of soft silk and satin marshmallow-stuffed pillows.

I dreamed I was sleeping in Solla Sollew,

On the banks of the beautiful River Wah-Hoo,

Where they never have troubles. At least very few.”

Eddie was so caught up in the cute picture presented before him, that he hadn't noticed Buck’s stopped reading and turned welcoming eyes on him, “Hey Eds.” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey Buck.” Eddie greeted back with a smile, slowly making his way inside, gently detangling Christopher from Buck to lay him properly on the pillow, and freeing Buck to rise and stretch carefully.

The blonde nodded gratefully at his friend, with a last look down at Christopher, he smiled and left Eddie to tuck Christopher in safely and say goodnight. Eddie’s eyes followed Buck as he left the room, making sure he’s steady on his feet and also because he couldn’t really look away.

When Buck was out and on his way to the living room Eddie turned around, pressed a kiss to Christopher’s forehead, turned on the nightlight and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Eddie noted Buck’s absence in the living room and followed the sounds to the kitchen, standing at the door, he inquired “Should you be without your sling?”

"Honestly, no." Buck admitted with a sheepish smile, "But my neck is killing me and doing everything one handed is driving me crazy." He complained, handing Eddie a beer and leaned back against the counter while drinking the Gatorade he started earlier.

“At least you’re not drinking beer.” Eddie rolled his eyes. Buck scoffed “I wanted to, Christopher said no.” he smiled at Eddie’s laugh.

“Sounds about right.” Eddie nodded. “Did Carla make dinner?”

Buck shook his head, “No, she had to leave early, I told her I got this.”

“Tell me you ordered dinner.” Eddie demanded.

“There are waffles and Eggs in the microwave for you.” Was Buck’s sole reply.

“You’re supposed to be resting.” Eddie protested with an exasperated look.

“I have been resting, Edmundo!” Buck rolled his eyes, “And I’ll go back to resting now that your kid is fed, ready for his day tomorrow and has fallen asleep in his own bed for a change.” Buck retorted and was about to move past Eddie when the latter grabbed the wrist of his good arm and turned him around, bringing him flush against Eddie’s body.

Faces a hairbreadth away from each other, Buck met Eddie’s eyes with a curious look, “You gonna teach me to dance Eds?”

“I thought you already knew how to dance, Ev.” Eddie replied with a soft smirk, voice barely beyond a murmur.

“Hmm.. So wha..” Buck didn’t finish the rest of the sentence because Eddie’s lips were on his, and the finally in his head was so loud, it took him a second to sigh contentedly and kiss back.

Eddie’s hands strayed to Buck’s waist bringing him even closer as he maneuvered them carefully out of the kitchen and into the living room, stopping when the back of his knees hit the couch, his palms framing Buck’s face with one last kiss before breaking apart, chuckling at Buck’s protesting whine.

“What was that for?” Buck asked as Eddie rearranged the pillows on the couch before situating himself with his back to one side and reached to gently pull Buck down so he could lie back on Eddie’s broad chest, framed between his stretched forward legs.

Buck went pretty easily, not even questioning Eddie’s tactile display, it’s been known to happen, it just didn’t usually start with a kiss. Buck turned his head to one side looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes, Eddie’s brown eyes were soft and fond, Buck couldn’t help but smile back at him when Eddie offered him a grin.

Before Buck could open his mouth and ask again what’s going on, Eddie wrapped a long arm across Buck’s broad chest and threaded the fingers of his other hand with Buck’s, resting them on Buck’s stomach. “I’m done overlooking the pink elephant in the room.”

“Is that a veiled reference of your dislike for that shirt?” Buck quipped, squeezing Eddie’s hand reassuringly.

“That too.” Eddie played along, he really did hate that shirt, but Buck kept insisting it defined his muscles, which it did, but literally most of his size-down shirts already did that. “But also because coming home to the sight of you and Christopher every night, was pretty much wearing me down.”

Buck’s face broke into a smile that was a complicated mix of self-consciousness and contentedness, which Eddie found adorable, “So what broke you tonight?” Buck asked, bringing Eddie out of his reverie “I mean, it was a pretty standard evening in the Diaz household.” He pointed out with a teasing smile.

“You made sure Christopher fell asleep in his own bed.” Eddie said, chin resting on the top of Buck’s head gently.

“Well, It felt like some normalcy was needed.” Buck replied, his voice soft. “Both of us injured and out of commission in the short span of five months seemed to be taking a toll.”

“And the fact that you’re the one who managed to find a way to stir him back into the right direction is what broke me, I guess.” Eddie admired quietly, “That, and the cute picture you two presented when I got into the room.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to Buck’s temple who was blushing endearingly.

The moment was broken by an exhausted yawn from Buck, “Sorry, been a long day, and you’re too comfortable.” he accused jokingly.

“Bed?” Eddie suggested.

“You sure?” Buck asked, it’s not like they haven’t shared a bed before but this was semi-new territory. “I've already bonded with the couch, I’m good sleeping out here until we figure this out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Bed.” he determined with a growl.

Buck chuckled amusedly as he rose carefully to his feet along with Eddie, “Caveman.” he teased.

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, “brat.” he retorted, pecking Buck’s lips before taking his hand and leading him to the master-bedroom.

***

That's it :) I hope you like it!! 💖💖

ps. That book Buck is reading to Christopher is a story my dad used to read to me and my sisters when we were youngers, we all know it by heart, to this very day. 🤗💕

#buddie prompt #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christoper diaz #is a national treasure #short fluff #buddie #9 1 1 on fox #buddie fandom #buddie fanfiction #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #eddie and buck #9-1-1

73 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

fathers.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it turns out the words really do fly out of you when you write in comic sans. who knew? anyways, here’s a little sunday morning angst for you. starts sweet, ends sweet. takes place au!may 2016.

words: 1.8k warnings: discussion of abuse and alcoholism (nothing too graphic)

summary: “‘why do men like me want sons?’ he wondered. ‘it must be because they hope in their poor beaten souls that these new men, who are their blood, will do the things they were not strong enough nor wise enough nor brave enough to do. it is rather like another chance at life; like a new bag of coins at a table of luck after your fortune is gone.’” – john steinbeck

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Aaron walks in from a very long day at the office to find you and Sean crashed out on the couch. Isaac’s asleep, too, sprawled out on his back in his Pack ‘n Play. He can hear Jack shuffling around in his room, probably on the tablet or working on homework.

Sean has the remote loosely gripped in his hand, hanging off the edge of the couch. His head is in your lap, one of your hands in his hair, and your body curled around his shoulders. You look more like a pair of siblings or long-lost childhood friends than anyone Aaron’s ever seen - certainly more so than he would in the same situation.

He almost envies the familiarity you and Sean have between you. Your friendship is easy and automatic - always has been.

How can two people, seemingly so similar, feel so starkly different about him?

Aaron’s not quite sure how long he’s been standing there watching as you two sleep like a pair of house cats. Eventually, you stir with a furrowed brow, squinting into the late afternoon sunshine.

When you find Aaron’s eyes, you smile widely and wink at him. After some delicate maneuvering in which you replace your thighs with a couch cushion and your arm with a throw blanket, you’re free of Sean’s weight and you can finally tuck into your husband.

He kisses your head and wraps his arms around you. “How was your day?”

“Good.” You burrow further into his chest. “Sean and I talked.”

Aaron dips his head. “Oh?”

“Mhmm.” You pat his chest twice and kiss his cheek. “Later.”

+++

“Sean talked to me about your dad today.”

Aaron freezes where he sits at the edge of the bed. You don’t mean to ambush him, but there’d never be a good time, so out with it was your best option.

He shudders as if a chill ran through him, but the room was warm and free of drafts. Sean warned you that this might be the reaction. Even then, he only told you about his experience with the patriarch of the Hotchner household. When you’d asked about Aaron, he only paled and shook his head.

“Ask him about it, but I won’t… I can’t do that to him,” he’d said.

So you have. And now you wait.

Aaron’s voice is a croak when he speaks. “What -” He clears his throat. “What did he say?”

You turn toward him, tucking your legs close to you and pulling the duvet up. “He told me a little about what it was like for him growing up.”

“Just him?”

“Just him. He wouldn’t say anything about your relationship with your father, nor about your childhood. I didn’t push.”

You pause for a moment. He’s still frozen, but his breath picks up. Not for the first time, you notice the silver lines - scars - across his back.

Long-healed and decades-old.

“I realized in that moment that it’s one of the few things I don’t know about you. I knew, even when I first met you, never to ask and you never told. You’ve alluded to things over the years on cases, and I’ve seen the unique kind of loathing you have for unsubs who hurt their children.” Your voice is low, Isaac sleeping in his crib beside the bed, almost old enough to sleep in the nursery.

You hear Aaron’s breath catch and you lean forward, putting your hand beside his hip so he knows you’re there.

“I’ve known not to ask for so long that I never did.”

A huff leaves him. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t expect to,” you reply simply.

Aaron’s hand wanders back to find your own and he grasps your fingers like a lifeline. Eventually, he turns, sitting in the middle of the bed like a child, his legs crisscrossed with his feet nearly underneath him.

He stares at the bedspread as he tells you about his father. A charming, handsome lawyer with a wicked vodka habit. That particular wicked habit fed into his other one - a liberal use of his belt as a tool of discipline.

Aaron tells you about the day he was old enough to step between his parents, to take whatever his father had to throw - sometimes literally - on behalf of his mother. Evelyn did her best, kept the house together and her boys as safe as she could. It didn’t always work.

She’d thought, Aaron shared with you, that a second child would soothe whatever hurt tortured her husband.

Aaron never resented her. Especially after starting his work as a lawyer and later as an agent, he understands how difficult - really, impossible - it is to leave those situations when you have children.

As his parents struggled to conceive, his father grew worse. By the time Evelyn had Sean, Aaron was thankfully old enough to wrangle his father into a cold shower and into bed most nights before he could get violent. He was thirteen.

“It was almost a relief - it was a relief - when his body finally failed him. I was barely in college when he died, and I graduated early. Sean was still little, so I don’t know what he remembers.”

Aaron sits for a moment, thinking. “If I could hazard a guess, I’d say it was the shouting.” He shakes his head. “We were always shouting.”

You’re both in tears now, but your crying is silent and his tears hardly disrupt his breath.

“Almost everyone at his funeral was someone he worked with. They, of course, loved him. His functional alcoholism served to make him affable enough to make and keep friends at the law firm. They had no idea what happened after he came home.”

He takes another breath. “I did my best to protect Sean after our father died, to keep him safe. I know he resented me for it - might still resent me for it - but he’s alive. And so is my mom.”

You can’t imagine what Evelyn’s been through, the peace she’s probably had in the decades she’s spent widowed. How the Hotchner line managed to survive - managed to become as kind and genuine and loving as they are - is close to a miracle.

You tell him as much.

He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, looking very much like the lost boy who took on too much, too fast, too early. “I don’t know how.”

“Because,’ you say, leaning forward and crawling into his lap and wrapping around him like a koala. “You are a better man, Aaron. You won.”

His breath is unsteady as he clasps his arms around you, his hands locked around his opposite forearms.

“You’re a great brother, a fantastic husband, an exceptional father.” You lean back so you can frame his face in your hands. “You wanna know something?”

He just stares at you.

“I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard you raise your voice at a member of our team or your family.” Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones as his eyes flutter shut. “You are a strong and gentle leader who relies on integrity rather than force to win respect.”

You kiss his cheek and hook your chin over his shoulder, holding him as close as you can. “We’re never afraid of you. Your sons can’t wait for you to come home. They’re thrilled when they hear your keys in the door.”

He sniffles. “I’m afraid...”

Leaning back again, you grip his jaw with a kind of gentle ferocity, forcing his gaze. “Aaron. Look me in the eye and tell me what your sons could do to push you to beat them, to physically discipline them. What would they have to do?”

He meets your eyes, shifty and shadowed like a wild animal, and stares at you without speaking. After a moment, the wildness fades and his lower lip wobbles as he exhales.

That’s enough of an answer for you.

“Can’t find anything, can you?”

Aaron shakes his head. He’s barely audible.

“No.”

“No,” you echo, your voice gentle and soft. Bringing his head back to your shoulder, you hold onto him, running your hands over his shoulders to soothe some of his shaking.

Isaac snuffles and stirs, drawing your attention. Aaron looks up too, his eyes searching for his son.

“Lemme get him,” he says. You untangle yourself and shuffle to the edge of the bed, looking over the edge of the crib. Knowing Isaac, he probably just wants snuggles. He’s the snuggliest baby you’ve ever known.

His father’s son, certainly.

Aaron rounds the crib and leans down, bringing Isaac to his chest. “Hey, little man. You alright?”

Isaac makes a little creaky baby noise and grabs Aaron’s shirt in a death grip.

There are still tears streaked down Aaron’s cheeks and his breath is still a little unsteady, but he’s relaxed as he gently rocks Isaac around the room, shifting his weight from side to side. In his father's arms, Isaac falls right to sleep.

+++

Aaron’s night is fitful, but after you curl up at his side he manages to close his eyes and rest.

You’re up before him in the morning - a rarity - finding Isaac awake and holding onto his own feet in the crib, staring up at the ceiling.

My boy. Always happy to entertain himself.

You pick him up and carry him out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. At this point, you’ve perfected the one-armed carry thanks to Aaron, and it usually comes in handy.

Jack and Sean are already awake, making cereal so quietly the bowls probably deserve their own top-secret clearance.

“Good morning, boys,” you say with a smile.

“Morning, Mom,” they drone, in tandem, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

With a laugh, you find your own bowl and Sean pours your cereal just the way you like it while you pull a bottle for Isaac.

The four of you eat breakfast in relative peace. It’s nice to have Sean here with you for more than one reason, but for now, it’s because he’s holding Isaac’s bottle so you can eat with one hand. One hand, you've learned, is decidedly better than no hands at all.

Aaron rolls into the kitchen about ten minutes after you, looking rumpled and squinty in the morning sun.

“Coffee’s on, honey.”

He mumbles his thanks and you share a smile with Sean.

“He’s predictable,” you explain in a half-whisper.

Sean nods, playing at something pensive. “And old.”

“Heard that.”

You and Sean share a look and a smile. You look over your shoulder. "Heard what?"

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @writefasttalkevenfaster @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @simsiddy @jeor @synonymforlame @roses-and-grasses @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @cevanswhre @joanofarkansass @infinity1321 @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @ceceguajardo-blog @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #abuse tw #a joyful future fanfic

375 notes · View notes

alienheartattack · 3 years

Text

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

#rivamika #alienheartattack writes #this fic has been in the works for YEARS and i've only managed to finish it today #if you dig through my blog there's a headcanon about this #it's good to be back!#i am working on other prompts - y'all really want some cottagecore arranged marriage stuff #the only arranged marriage AU I have in my head is dark af but I'll probably write it anyway #and I do have an old cottagecore postcanon fic idea i might be able to use #am I just procrastinating writing my novel? probably #btw if you want to know about that plz drop me an ask #i am 165k words in and it's still not done #and yes it is smutty and romantic

110 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Old Habits

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader

Request from my fave @masterlistforimagines: I’m back with more requests for everyone’s #1 Daddy: “Do it, I dare you” and “I haven’t forgot you yet” (Prompts are from This Post)

Warnings: Light angst (with a happy ending), language

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Still working through a personal life slump, but I was pretty stoked to finish up this fic. Idk why I’ve been putting Bishop through some things lately, but this one does have a happy ending I promise!

Bish Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969

It had been months since you last saw Bishop. The breakup went about as well as anyone could expect any breakup to go. It didn’t end with yelling and screaming, just a lot of tears and the recognition that trying to force things to work was hurting the both of you. It was difficult to try and adjust to a life that didn’t revolve around each other. You put off getting your things from his house for a little longer than necessary, not wanting to admit to yourself that it was really over. For weeks he still texted you or called you once a day to make sure that you were doing alright. Both of you had to fight not to slip up and say, “I love you,” before hanging up the phone. Old habits really do die hard.

By your second month apart, you both had gotten to the point where you didn’t follow through on the impulse to reach out. Your heart sank a little every time you’d get a notification on your phone and you saw that it wasn’t from him, but you knew that it was for the best. It still sucked, though.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. You still thought about him often, but you had gotten a grip on your emotions over it. He hadn’t tried to contact you, and that let you know that if he was over it, it was time for you to be over it too. After a lot of prompting from friends, you set yourself up on Tinder. It was a dumb idea, and all it really was, was a distraction. But it was an effective one. You’d had your fair share of disastrous conversations, awful first-dates, and not-terrible hookups since joining. Dating apps weren’t really your thing, but you hoped that maybe you’d stumble across someone who could start to fill the gap that Bishop had left.

After another awkward dinner with a man that you would never speak to again, you decided to meet up with your friends who were out at the club. The night was young and you didn’t want your entire Saturday night to feel like a waste. One of your friends was waiting for you outside the door to the club, and she beamed at you as she waved you over.

She wrapped you in a hug, “Date was that bad, huh?”

You laughed, nodding, “Another on the long list of disappointments. I don’t even know why I bother.”

“Well, come on, we’ll make sure the rest of your night isn’t so disappointing. Now that you’re here we can all do shots!”

The night was definitely the perfect distraction from your disaster of a date. You and your friends had spent all night on the dance floor, completely detached from everything else that was going on. You hadn’t even gone back to the bar to get more drinks, which was probably for the best. You were still just buzzed, not drunk, and that was much better for everyone involved.

You finally had to go get some water and sit down at the bar for a minute to catch your breath. You managed to maneuver through the packed groups of people and waited patiently for someone to free up a stool at the bar. You plopped down, taking a deep breath.

You were sitting back, sipping on your water when a familiar face materialized in front of you. Your eyes grew wide as a smile spread across your face. Hopping off of your stool you jumped and wrapped your arms around Angel.

“Holy shit,” you laughed as you stepped back so you could look at him, “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, “Guy’s night out.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Since when does that not happen at the clubhouse, or over at Vicki’s?”

“It’s called branching out, querida,” he laughed.

“Who’s all here?” you looked around.

“Usual crew of troublemakers,” he nodded towards the door where Coco and Gilly were standing, chatting with a group of girls.

“No EZ?”

“He’s outside, him and Bish are having a smoke.” Your heart dropped into your stomach, and Angel saw the change on your face, “Still not talking?”

You shook your head, “Not in a long time. Never reached out to me.”

“Well, you got about two minutes before neither of you are left with much of another choice.”

“Fuck me,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Angel ordered you each a shot and you took it, praying it would alleviate the nerves building up inside your chest. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side for a moment, “Quit stressing about it, Y/N. You’ll be fine.”

Before you could attempt to argue with him about how wrong he was, Bishop and EZ appeared on either side of him. Your breathing hitched as you took in the sight of Bishop after not having seen him in months. You forced out a hello to both him and EZ, and Angel took that as his cue to drag his brother off to find a different section of the club to hang out in.

It was just you and Bishop facing each other now. Every part of you wanted to get up and hug him, but you knew that it would undo months of work. You weren’t over him by any means, but you could at least pretend that you were.

“Wouldn’t expect to see you in a place like this,” you finally said.

He smiled, shaking his head, “Me either. It definitely,” he glanced around the club for a moment before returning his eyes to you, “wasn’t my idea.”

“Just being a good team player?”

He laughed, “Something like that,” he paused, “Can I get you a drink?”

You smiled, “Angel bought me a shot before you got here…but I’ll take a beer.”

He lingered close to you as the two of you talked. Somehow you managed to hear each other through the music and the sounds of a million other conversations happening around you. the bartender would wordlessly refill your empty beer glasses and neither of you commented to get them to stop. Every now and then Bishop’s hand would brush against yours as he reached for his glass and you didn’t comment on it, but you knew that you both noticed it happening.

You had been afraid that the conversation was going to feel awkward, or forced, but it wasn’t. Truthfully you had completely forgotten that you were there with your friends. By the looks of it, Bishop had decided to leave the rest of the club to their own devices. The two of you caught up about the safe topics. He asked you about work and you asked vague questions about the club, just inquiring to how everyone was doing.

“How’s my boy Chucky?” you asked with a smile.

Bishop laughed and nodded, “He is doing as well as he ever was. He and Leti are a dynamic duo now. Keeping each other out of trouble.”

You laughed, “That’s good,” you paused, biting down on your lip for a moment before saying, “I need to step out for a second and grab a smoke.”

“Want some company?” he was trying not to look too eager.

You smiled, “Sure.”

Bishop placed money on top of the bar and followed you towards the door. You’d caught Angel looking at the two of you and you purposely didn’t hold eye contact with him. As you were reaching the door to the club, you felt Bishop’s hand press lightly against the small of your back. You looked back and smiled, arching your brow.

“Hands to yourself, Bish,” you laughed as the two of you landed out on the sidewalk.

He chuckled, “Or what, you’re gonna fight me?”

You smiled as you leaned back against the outside wall of the club, digging your pack of cigarettes out of your purse, “You’ve seen what happens to men who get too handsy with me.”

He smiled, shaking his head as he took the cigarette that you offered him, “Do it, I dare you. It’s been a while since I’ve had to fight someone.”

“That’s not a streak you should be looking to break,” you laughed as you lit your smoke and passed the lighter over to him.

There was silence between the two of you for a little bit. Despite the fact that there was more physical space between you, it felt so much more intimate now that you were outside without the chaos of the club to distract you. If it had been a few months ago, the two of you wouldn’t have had any space between you—he never could manage to keep his hands off of you whenever the two of you went out. The gap between you felt wrong, but you weren’t going to be the one to close it.

“How badly do you want to be home right now?” you asked with a smile as you exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Bishop laughed, “You know dance clubs have never been my thing,” he stepped in a little closer to you, “But this part here isn’t so bad.”

You felt your face start to get hot and you couldn’t meet his eyes. He wasn’t touching you but you could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Without even meaning to he was making you feel so small, but part of you didn’t even mind it.

“Be careful, Obispo,” you were trying to keep things light but your voice came out so soft, “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

His free hand came up and tilted your chin so that you were looking at him, “I haven’t forgot you yet, not even for a second,” he didn’t break eye contact with you, “And believe me, I’ve tried.”

You let out a shaky breath as you tilted your head up so that his hand was no longer touching you. You dropped your cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with the ball of your foot. Bishop hadn’t back up at all and you were forced to look at him. There was a familiar light in his eyes, something that you had been missing desperately. He took one last drag before putting his cigarette out as well. You leaned back against the brick wall, trying to grant yourself a little more space between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, visibly fighting the urge to pull you in close to him.

You nodded slightly, “Me too,” you swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, “You stopped answering my texts.”

He rested one hand on the back of his neck as he took a deep breath, “I figured that it would be best for you…for both of us.”

“I hate being broken up,” you blurted out. You quickly reached up and covered your mouth with your hand, unsure of where that had come from. It was true, sure, but you weren’t planning on saying it. You shook your head, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I know why we did but fuck, I just mi—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. He stepped in and pulled you into a rough kiss. One arm snaked around your waist while his other hand rested against the back of your neck, pressing you into him. After a moment the shock of it wore off and you fell into him, hands gripping his kutte and pulling him as close as humanly possible. He pushed your back flush against the side of the building and you couldn’t help but to moan into your kiss.

He finally pulled his lips off of yours. You tried to catch your breath as you rested your forehead against his. His grip on you loosened as his hands slid around your hips and found themselves nestled into your back pockets. You smiled at the comfort of the familiar gesture. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, tracing along his cheekbone and feeling his stubble slide underneath the pad of your thumb.

“I’ve missed you so much, Y/N,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

You gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I thought it would be better if we weren’t together anymore, and maybe it’s selfish of me, but I want you to come home,” he pulled away slightly so that he could look you in the eyes, “Please.”

You felt the anxiety melting out of your body. You had spent months imagining him saying those words and it was finally happening. “Can I come home tonight?”

He chuckled, nodding, “I’d love that,” he pulled you into a hug, letting your head rest against his chest, “And I would really love if we left now so I don’t have to go back in there.”

You laughed into his chest, “I guess that’s fair,” you pulled away, letting your hands slide so that your fingers interlocked with his, “Take me home Obispo.”

He laughed, tugging you in the direction of his bike, “It’d be my pleasure.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x you #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa angst #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

311 notes · View notes

raysofcrosby · 3 years

Note

Ch.23 was literally SO worth the wait! This story is so good!!!! I literally do not know what to do until the next chapter! any chance we can get a sneak peek of the AU or next chapter to hold us over 👀

i can't remember if i gave this little sneak peak from the au or not, but here's a little laughing moment hehe 👀💛

“Hi, Rosie,” she smiled, pushing herself up barely. “Is everything okay?’

“Everything went great,” Rosie smiled, bringing the bassinet to a stop just beside the hospital bed. “All his levels are right where we want them to be, his color is normal, he’s just a perfect little boy.”

Matt stared at the bassinet, a little pink blob...well...human blob, was lying in it, his arms up by his ears and his legs relaxed. He was wearing only a diaper, a blue hat and a hospital bracelet on his right ankle. His eyes were open, safe for the moments he’d blink slowly every so often like they were adjusting to the light of the room. That little 2D black and white ultrasound in planned parenthood and the alien looking 4D blob at A Stork’s View...was now lying down on top of a white baby blanket with green elephants on it– here, in the physical world.

Matt had always been a Dad from the moment Caroline found out she was pregnant...but now it was real, he was a Dad. He was this baby’s Dad, his son’s.

“Dad?” Rosie asked, Matt zoning back in as he looked away from the bassinet. “Would you like to meet your son?”

Matt nodded, then paused, looking down at Caroline. “Did you get to hold him?”

She nodded, a smile on her face. “Go ahead, Matty.”

When he got up to move, Rosie stopped him, shaking her head. “No, you can stay seated. I’ll bring him to you.” She smiled, leaning down to the bassinet.

“You’re supposed to take off your shirt,” Brady said, everyone staring at Taryn’s phone screen. “What? I’ve been doing some reading.”

Matt felt embarrassed that he forgot all about the skin to skin bonding. He knew it because he read it somewhere, but he was just so overwhelmed and in disbelief, that he forgot. He pulled off his t-shirt dropping it between him and Caroline as Rosie walked around the hospital bed and came to a stop beside him.

“Okay, I’m just going to go ahead and lay him on your chest and then you can take it from there, okay?” Rosie smiled, holding him out.

Matt nodded, his arms bent up towards his chest as he watched her lay the newborn down onto his chest, immediately feeling the baby’s own warmth against his chest. He bent his knees slightly, his right hand resting beneath the diaper as his left forearm draped softly over the small newborn. He could see that the baby’s eyes were closed, head resting heavily against Matt’s chest.

“He’s so small,” Matt whispered, kissing the top of baby’s beanie.

“6 pounds, 4 ounces and 19 inches long,” Caroline whispered, bringing her left hand up to the baby’s face, brushing her index finger softly against his cheek. “He was born at 7pm on the dot. You’ve got yourself a birthday twin.”

“I’ll go ahead and give you guys a few minutes,” Rosie smiled, nodding at her. “But another nurse will be by shortly to help guide you through the breastfeeding process.”

“Process?” Matt whispered, the fingers on his right hand brushing against the baby’s legs. “Doesn’t he just...suck or something?”

“He has to latch,” Caroline laughed, adjusting the little beanie on the baby's head. “And then it’s just me figuring out what to do, getting him in position and what not. But really...it’s the latching we need to figure out.”

Matt felt the baby’s hand move against his chest before feeling the side of his lips begin to move, his head shifting slightly. “Uh...no, wrong nipple,” Matt panicked, looking at Caroline with wide eyes. “Tell him I’m the wrong nipple, I’m not who he wants.”

“I’ll go get a nurse,” his Mom laughed, Matt still panicking as he felt the baby try and mouth at his chest.

“Care, seriously...is he going to bite my nipple off?” Matt’s Dad laughed, causing Matt to look at him. “What? Why are you laughing?’

“Oh nothing,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You three are going to make one interesting little family.”

Matt went to speak again when he felt something wet against his chest, eyes wide. “Care!”

“I heard we got a hungry baby,” a different nurse smiled, walking into the room with Matt’s Mom following behind her.

“We’ll be right outside, you two,” his Mom smiled, escorting them all out of the room and leaving the two of them behind with the new nurse.

“Alright Dad, let’s go ahead and hand over little man to Mom here and we’ll get you guys all acquainted with how to feed,” the nurse nodded, standing beside Caroline.

Matt carefully maneuvered the baby around, holding him up and handing him over to Caroline, who instantly cradled him. “See this?” Matt asked, pointing to his chest. “This is the bad nipple,” he pointed at the baby, who seemed to be focused on him before pointing at Caroline’s chest. “That’s the good nipple. That’s the one you want. Not mine. Capiche?”

“Matthew, he’s not going to remember,” Caroline laughed, reaching up and pushing down her hospital gown.”

“I don’t even know how he gets confused, there is a very clear difference between the–”

“Matthew!” Caroline laughed again, sending him a look as the nurse smiled. “Sorry about him.”

“It’s fine, we love it when the Dad’s are involved and make jokes. Just keeps the mood uplifted,” the nurse replied, clapping her hands together softly. “Okay, let’s get this baby fed, hm?”

#anon #answered #wltay

24 notes · View notes

green-socks · 3 years

Text

Hungry Eyes chapter 1

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC (Dirty Dancing AU)

Summary: Dirty Dancing but here Benny is in the role of Baby and the dance instructor is a female OC. Benny goes to the resort with Will’s family (because who wouldn’t want cool uncle Benny to join their summer vacation?), and ends up falling for a dance instructor working on the resort. This first part is Benny and the dance instructor’s first meeting, basically the “I carried a watermelon” scene if you will.

Words: 1,818

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, some curse words. Something else? Let me know!

Notes: This is one of those “I want to see it so I have to write it” situations. I have never ever written fiction before and this is scary as fuck, but I have this story in my head and now I’m trying to put it into words. I’m posting this part of the story now because I can, but I’m also working on a prologue of sorts.

This idea came to me in a dream (which was probably inspired by this headcanon ) and I told @the-purity-pen about it and she told me to write it. Without your encouragement I never would have even tried this fun thing and I’ll love you forever for it <3

And of course I’ll be eternally grateful to @astroboots for the beta and giving me that final push! Thank you for letting me ramble to you about this and being so lovely <3

Prologue

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

The night was warm, only the sounds of crickets and the slight rustle of wind keeping Benny company on his walk. Most people on the resort, like his brother and his family, had already retired to their cabins and rooms for the night. It was quiet, calm.

Despite what many people thought, Benny enjoyed the quiet. Needed it, in fact. He was always energetic around people, giving them all of himself. And he didn’t have to fake that energy, but sometimes even he needed to wind down and enjoy some peace and quiet. These walks, this whole vacation, was his time to relax and just be.

Benny was walking along a path near where the hiking trails begin when he heard the quiet thumping of bass through the night air. The further he walked along the path the louder the music got.

Through the bushes and trees Benny could see a house a little further up the hill. There seemed to be a party going on there, judging by the noise and music coming through its open windows. Benny wondered who were partying there and if the house even belonged to the resort or if it was a private property.

He continued walking, thinking he’d just walk past the house and continue further into the woods, when he saw a woman on the bottom of the stairs leading to the house. She was carrying a big box in her arms, clearly struggling under the weight of it.

“Hey! Do you need help with that?” Benny hollered to the woman.

She let out a breath. “Sure, thanks,” she answered, while handing Benny the box and starting to climb up the stairs. “Hope it isn’t too heavy!”

“Nah, doesn’t weigh a thing. We goin’ to the party house over there?” Benny asked, nodding his head in the direction of it.

“You’re technically not supposed to be here, you know. It’s off limits to resort guests.”

“I can keep a secret”, Benny grinned.

“What’s your name?” she asked him. “Benny.” “Nice to meet you Benny. My name’s Lily,” she added, pointing to the name tag still on her work shirt.

“Anyway, some of us who work on the resort live in this house for the summer, and sometimes we throw parties. But they’re strictly for a limited group of people, and we could get into a lot of trouble if our employees or other resort guests found out, so you better keep your mouth shut,” she warned sternly.

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

They continued up the stairs and Benny heard the telltale clinking of bottles from the box even through the loudening music.

“Wait, you’re all of age, right? Cause this is a lot of booze”, Benny asked, suddenly slightly worried about assisting these partiers.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we have a strict no minors policy!” Lily answered.

With that they reached the top of the stairs and Lily held open the door for him into the house.

Benny wasn’t fully prepared to the sight that greeted him.

Sure, he had seen his share of parties, especially with his boys, but these people were wild.

There were no more than twenty people in the room, but they were all dancing like no tomorrow. Benny doubted they even needed all the booze he was carrying to let loose like that.

He watched in awe the mass of bodies moving to the beat, everyone shaking, grinding, jumping, twisting, and twirling around without a care in the world.

“Who are these people?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Lily laughed at his shock. “We’re the entertainment team! Most of us are dancers or come from a theater background. Now come on!” she said and led him deeper into the house.

Benny suddenly felt like some silly delivery boy, even though he was probably older than most of them, when he maneuvered around the dancing people, trying to watch his step. Some of them spared him curious glances before getting lost in the music again.

“I imagine you don’t dance like this during the day when you’re doing dance classes on the resort?” Benny joked, still trying to get his bearings.

“Oh hell no, this is just for our own entertainment here,” Lily laughed again.

Suddenly two more people burst through the door, arm in arm, and everyone cheered happily in greeting.

A man and a woman, who Benny recognized as the lead dance instructors on the resort, joined the party, immediately grabbing drinks and making their way through the dancefloor.

Benny noticed how they seemed to greet everyone individually by dancing with them; how they took eye contact and often physical contact with everyone and danced with them for a while before moving on, each one with a slightly different way. It was like they were speaking to one another, all these bodies communicating through movement alone.

He was mesmerized looking at them both, the attractive couple that were clearly the life of the party. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who seemed to move so easily, so freely, the joy and love she was feeling visible in her every movement.

Benny couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had taught a dance class to his nieces earlier that same day. Sure, he had noticed her even then, how could he not; she was very pretty.

But the woman he was seeing now was sexy, confident, nothing like Benny had seen before.

“Those are my friends Patrick and Jolene, they helped me get this job!” Lily shouted in his ear over the music.

“They seem to have great chemistry,” Benny remarked, his gaze still focusing mostly on Jolene.

“Yeah, it’s because they know each other so well. People always think they’re together --“ Benny certainly thought their very physical and intimate way of dancing would mean that “-- but they’re just best friends from a long time”, Lily chatted casually, oblivious to Benny’s thoughts.

Benny found his heart beating a little faster with this information, not that he really knew what to do with it.

His mouth was getting dry and he was breathing a little quicker. For fuck’s sake, he was getting a little turned on from watching her. Get it together man, he thought to himself.

Benny tried not to stare too hungrily; he didn’t want to be that creepy guy at the party that no one even knew.

The longer he watched these people dancing their hearts out the more he found himself slightly bopping along the beat, wishing he had a beer in hand, or maybe that he knew how to dance like they did.

______________

Jolene was enjoying herself, finally letting off steam after a hard day’s work. Few things on this earth made her happier than dancing, especially dancing with her best friend Patrick on these summer nights they got to spend together.

As she spun around in Patrick’s strong arms, she noticed the tall stranger standing near the back of the room next to Lily. Who the heck was this guy and where did he come from?

Jo tapped Patrick on the shoulder to let him know she was going to get something to drink and made her way through the crowd towards Lily and the stranger.

“Hey, Lil. Who’s your friend here?”

“Oh, this is Benny. He came with me.” Lily answered happily.

“Yeah, I, uh, helped her carry the box up here”, the guy, Benny, supplied shyly in a deep voice, pointing at the box in question.

Jo gave Lily a stern look. She really should’ve known better than to bring customers up here. These parties were kept a secret for a good reason, since they could all lose their jobs if the resort managers found out, but especially her and Patrick, because they were responsible for their team. And they were already on thin ice as it were, because, in Jo’s humble opinion, the managers were a bunch of jerks.

Lily just shrugged and Jo sighed deeply before turning to look at the man next to her, who, for some reason, was avoiding her gaze.

“Well, Benny, would you like to dance?” Jo thought she could size the guy up a little better if she could get him alone with her. She had to look after her team after all. Besides, he looked a little lonely, bopping along the music shyly. Maybe she could teach him a few things.

Benny looked a little startled, as he answered “Oh, I don’t know how to dance”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” Jo said, pulling him on the dancefloor.

“C’mon, just follow my lead. Do this. And try to feel the rhythm.” Jo started showing him how to move to the beat, swaying from side to side.

“Good, now loosen your hips a little more,” Jo instructed, putting her hands on his hips and directing his movements.

Jo had to hand it to the guy; he was learning surprisingly quickly, and it was refreshing to see a man who was willing to try and learn dancing even if it was a bit awkward at first. His movements were a little stunted, but he clearly had a good ear for the rhythm. He was even smiling and laughing a little at his own awkwardness, but Jo could see he was also enjoying himself.

“Okay, now let’s try this. Follow my lead again,” Jo said, putting her hands on his broad shoulders. He was so tall she had to reach pretty far, but they managed it anyway. Jo stepped closer and started grinding against him, showing him how to move by using her own body to guide him.

Slowly Benny was easing into it, even putting his arms on her waist.

“Okay, you’re getting the hang of it now!” Jo smiled at him proudly and he grinned back.

_______________

Benny was actually enjoying himself. He was dancing with a gorgeous woman and he wasn’t making a complete and total fool of himself. He considered that a victory at this point.

He just knew Santi would be laughing his ass off if he could see Benny now. Will probably would tease him too.

Benny grinned at the thought. But hey, they weren’t here and he was having fun so who cares, he thought.

Although he had to admit, he was still a little shocked at the fact that this amazing dancer was dancing with him and even looking like she wasn’t completely hating it.

He was still a little dazed when the song ended and Jolene patted his arm, told him “See you around” and bounced her way to the middle of the crowd again.

“Yeah, uh, see ya,” Benny muttered after her, standing awkwardly on the edge of the dancefloor.

Deciding he had probably already overstayed his welcome Benny readjusted his hat on his head and quietly headed out to the warm night air again.

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

Chapter 2

Notes: If you read this far I don’t even know how to react. Thank you?If you like Benny and/or Dirty Dancing we can probably bond over that

#i accidentally wrote something #who even am i #what am i doing #what #benny miller x ofc #dirty dancing AU #my benny boo #i wanna boogie with benny #triple frontier fanfiction #nobody puts benny in the corner

39 notes · View notes

5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

Text

Undertow (VI)

Word count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Descriptions of physical harm to Shawn

Listen to the audio here

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

“Are you sure that’s the right one?” Merlin asked as he helped Ripley drag Shawn’s unconscious body through the water.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s the right one,” Ripley said, not bothering to spare a glance at the subject he’d been tracking down for the past few days. “You saw him up close yourself. How could you not be sure he’s the right one?”

“I don’t know. They all look the same. Brown hair, oddly specific t-shirts, absolutely jacked even though their jobs don’t require them to be that muscular.”

“Shut up and give him some oxygen, would you?” Ripley grumbled. “Tertis wants him alive when we arrive. A dead body won’t do him any good.”

Merlin tossed a small orb at Shawn’s face, filling the boy’s lungs with oxygen without waking him up. Tertis made it very clear that he wanted the subject alive and then proceeded to explain the consequences that would occur should Shawn be dead in very close detail. It made Merlin shiver just thinking about it.

“We’ll bring him to that cove before we hand him over to Tertis. Maybe we can get him to hand over some information before Tertis beats it out of him.” Ripley made a sharp turn in direction of the cove, jerking Shawn and Merlin along with him.

“But Tertis said to bring the subject directly to him.” Merlin was too scared to act out against the boss, the thought of Tertis’ threats plaguing his mind.

“Tertis can wait,” Ripley muttered, maneuvering around the rocks that guarded the cove Y/N had been stranded in days before.

The two men squeezed Shawn through the small spaces between the rocks and haphazardly threw his body onto the floor of the cove. Scrapes could be seen all over his legs and face from where he’d been dragged and dropped throughout the journey. He took a deep breath, his lungs no longer struggling to conserve oxygen like they did under the water.

“Do we wake him up?” Merlin asked as he dragged himself out of the water.

“Could Tertis have assigned anyone more stupid to this job than you?” Ripley kicked Merlin out of his way and stopped just inches away from Shawn’s body, nudging the boy’s hip with his foot. Nothing happened and Ripley let out an annoyed huff.

“The things I have to do.” He leaned down and smacked Shawn across the face, then proceeding to wipe his hand against the algae-covered wall of the cove

Shawn’s eyes shot open, frantically searching around the room as his breathing picked up. His breath caught in his chest once his eyes landed on Ripley, who towered over him and blocked most of the light that dared enter the cove. Nevertheless, the boy’s chocolate eyes sharpened in a squint, studying the stranger in bewilderment.

“Wh-where...who are you?” Shawn wheezed out, voice hoarse and throat aching from the saltwater. “Where is Y/N? Where are we?” His eyes frantically dashed to absorb the dripping walls of the cavern and the cold rock against his legs. “Why--”

“Quiet,” Ripley demands, grinding his teeth. “I thought you asked too many questions.” He muttered bitterly, sparing a glance towards Merlin.

Shawn attempted to control his panting, which echoed against the thick rock of the cove as Ripley carried on his talking. “I’m gonna say this once, so you and your land-walker brain better think, and think fast.” At the term he had only heard his new aquatic friend use, Shawn sucked in a breath. “I’m sure you can already guess what I’m about to ask you--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab--”

“I said quiet!” Ripley barks. Merlin winces beside the man as he raises his arm only to swing it back and administer a harsh strike against Shawn’s cheek. Immediately, Shawn’s hands wriggle in attempts to soothe the sting on the side of his face, but he pauses and elicits a puzzled murmur when his hands remain unmoving. Turning his head, he grunts at the sight of his wrists bound together quite tightly with seaweed.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. And I don’t want any other words out of your mouth except a location we can find Y/N. Otherwise, it’s going to be your head and hers mounted on the king’s wall by dawn. Understood?”

Shawn stays quiet.

“Now, tell me where Y/N is...and I’ll set you free. We can pretend this never happened and you can carry on living your little land-walker life.”

But Shawn found the thought sickening. To revert to his life before his entire wipeout and run-in with an Atlantean was an insane demand and one Shawn would rather die than grant. “Tell me now!” A vicious growl leave’s Ripley’s throat as he continues towering over Shawn.

“Fine...guess we’re gonna get answers from you the hard way.” Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, Ripley manages a shrill whistle, calling outward to the water. “Sandy!”

The boy could not hold back an amused snort at the call. “Oh no, not Sandy! I’m really in for it now,” he chuckles sarcastically. It has Ripley wishing he would have used extra seaweed to gag him. A few light splashes were heard until a noodle-esque figure flopped onto the rock near Shawn’s captors. Menacing laughs come from Ripley, who grips the fish bare-handed complemented by a sinister smile.

“Oh yes, you are…” He inches closer to the tied up boy and Shawn gulps at the sight of the rubber tube of an animal staring back at him with the same flash of evil in his eyes Ripley was currently holding in his own. Its slippery body had Shawn visibly shivering and already imagining the shocking pain he was going to endure from the eel.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” Ripley growled. “Where is the girl?”

Wesley stared wide-eyed at the retreating shoreline. One minute, it was a regular afternoon on the beach. The next, the ocean looked to be about 15 feet farther back with waves tall enough to swallow a building. His feet were glued to the sand beneath him.

The rushing of his fellow lifeguards snapped him back to reality. He rushed towards the water, doing his best to redirect the people running into the towering waves for their loved ones.

“Ma’am, it’s not safe here. You need to run to shore and get to highland.” He grabbed the crying woman by the shoulders and turned her in the opposite direction.

“My son!” she cried, resisting Wesley’s attempts to divert her.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him.” The woman didn’t look convinced but Wesley didn’t have time to worry about that, the calling of his name tearing his attention away from her.

“Wesley!” Y/N called as she caught sight of him in the middle of the chaos.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? You need to get back to shore!” Wesley caught hold of her arm once she was close enough, trying to turn her around so he could lead her back to safety.

“Shawn’s been taken. We gotta help him!” she said, referring to the moment she looked back in Shawn’s direction and he wasn’t there. She just knew he didn’t run to safety like she told him to. She took Wesley’s hand off her arm.

“What do you mean he’s been taken?” He followed her as she jogged ahead.

“No time to explain. Just follow me!” She looked back at him to find pure terror on his face. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. You just have to trust me.”

“I can’t just leave! People need saving.” He stopped abruptly, almost running into a teenager running away from the waves.

“You’ll die if you go into that water! You’re going to save a lot more people if you come with me. I can’t do this without you.” They didn’t have much time. If they waited much longer the fate of Shawn and the town would be well out of their hands.

“I know how to stop this but I do know that if you don’t help me, we’re all going to be in serious danger!”

“Fine.” He shook his head clear of the fear plaguing his mind. His chance to be a real hero was finally here. “What do we need to do?”

“Your house. There should be clues there.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you once we get there but we need to go, now!” Y/N bolted in the direction of town, Wesley following a second later.

“Wait, Y/N!” he called as she made it to the edge of the parking area. “Get in the car. It’s faster.” Neither of them said anything as Wesley floored it to his house. He didn’t know what he was getting into, but he trusted Y/N enough. If she was that frantic, something in him just knew it was urgent. They flew out and ran to the door the second the car was parked, Wesley fumbling with the keys as he tried to unlock the door.

“Did your dad have any secret rooms? Anywhere you and your mom weren’t allowed to go in? He’s gotta have some information lying around here.” Y/N ran her hands along the walls, occasionally pulling books off the shelves that littered the living room.

“I was never allowed in his office.” Wesley closed the door and twisted the lock. “He kept it locked and he always has the key on him. There’s no way we’ll be able to get in.” He led Y/N to the oak door, twisting the handle to show that it was indeed shut tight.

“Leave that to me.” Y/N took a pin out of her hair and shoved it in the lock, maneuvering it until she was able to twist the handle and let herself into the massive room.

“How’d you do that?” Wesley questioned, surprised by her quick actions. “You don’t know basic facts about yourself, like where you came from, but you know how to pick a lock?”

“I wasn’t exactly my father’s favorite. Spent a lot of days locked in my room. A girl’s gotta get out somehow.” She walked in, immediately going to the stacks of books scattered around the office. She glanced back at him to see a concerned look stretching across his face as he opened a drawer from the big desk sitting in the middle of the room. “I mean . . . uh . . .”

“Wait, I think I found something!” Wesley stared down into the open drawer. “I don’t actually know what I’m looking for but I found something.”

Y/N hopped up, nudging him out of the way to get a better look. A cartoonish looking map stared back at them, the words City of Atlantis printed out in scraggly handwriting across the top. “Uhh . . . maybe?”

“It kinda looks like something I would’ve drawn when I was five now that I’m looking at it.”

“Put that to the side for now. Maybe we’ll find something else.”

10 minutes later and they still hadn't found anything. They were running out of time and Y/N was growing more frustrated by the second. All she needed was that stupid map. She slammed her hand on the side of the bookshelf, jumping back when it moved so easily. She pressed her hand on it again, the bookcase sliding over to reveal a black and white painting on the wall.

Wesley turned around when he heard the noise of the bookcase scratching the floor. “What the--”

“This is it!”

Painted on the wall was a black and white painting of the same map they’d seen earlier, with a few extra details. Extra towers and secret dungeons were clearly labeled around the castle Y/N used to call home.

“Got it memorized?” Y/N asked, promptly turning away after burning the image into her mind.

“What? No, I looked at it for 2 seconds! Why do I need it memorized?” He still wasn’t sure what was going on in any capacity and his patience was wearing thin.

“We can’t just take this giant piece of wall with us and you’ll get lost if you don’t know where anything is. The castle is gigantic and Atlantis is even bigger. You’ll need to know where you’re going in case we get separated.” She gestured for him to follow her out of the room.

“Castle? Atlantis?” Wesley crossed his arms and sat on the desk he found the first map in.

“I’m not moving until you tell me exactly what we’re doing, Y/N.”

“We don’t have time for that.” She gestured for him to get moving again but he kept his ground.

“Tell me what we’re doing right now or I’m not coming at all.”

“Fine,” she huffed, stepping back into the room. “Shawn’s been kidnapped. The storm acted as a distraction so they could get him. We have to go save him and humanity in one sweep. There’s your explanation. Let’s go.”

“That’s like a CliffNotes version. I need details so I know what I’m actually getting into.”

“What is a CliffNote?”

“Doesn’t matter. Explain!”

“Alright, you want details, here they are.” She closed the door and brought Wesley close as if she was afraid someone would overhear her secret. “I’m an Atlantean. My dad is the king of Atlantis and he forced me into an arranged marriage for political gain. You know, as dads do.”

“My dad never did that but go on.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some news for you, buddy.”

“Hmm?”

“Anyways, I ran away not long before the wedding was supposed to happen and my dad was not happy. He’s sending search parties after me and he has spies everywhere. Your dad kidnapped Shawn to get information out of him and lure me back to the castle. Your dad’s an Atlantean, by the way.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You wanted details, you’re getting them. Now shut your clam.” Her face meant business and Wesley decided it was better to do as she said. “They’re either at the cove or taking him to one of those dungeons. They’ll stop at nothing to get me back and I refuse to ever go back to that treacherous life under the sea.”

“Ooh, that’s a song from The Little Mermaid. I love that movie!”

“You land-walkers and your stupid mermaid movies. I am not a mermaid and Atlantis is not all fun and games! I had zero control over my life down there and I am not going back to that!” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she thought of going back to her previous life.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just go”

“I’m almost done, just let me explain the plan. I’ll call Douglas and he’ll get us to Shawn. If he’s at the cove, great. If not, the plan doesn’t change much. We go to Atlantis and search the dungeons until we find him. Once we do that, I’ll find my father. I’m gonna have to turn myself in while you get Shawn out. The two of you escape with Douglas. Once my dad locks me in the dungeon, Douglas will come back to get me, and hopefully, I’ll make it back here.”

“What if you can’t escape though?”

“It’s a risk we have to take. Getting Shawn back to shore is more important. I can survive down there. Shawn won’t last more than a few days.”

Wesley bit his lip as he took it all in.

“So you’re a mermaid? And my dad’s a mermaid?”

“We are not mermaids!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t have time for this. Are you in or are you going to let humanity suffer at the hands of a power-hungry idiot?”

“I’m in. Just let me get a picture of this map.” He pulled his phone out and snapped a picture of the painting.”

“That map better not leave that magic device there. If anyone else finds out about Atlantis, the whole sea population is in trouble.”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get going.” Y/N zipped out the door, not bothering to make sure Wesley was following.

He stood up quickly, taking one last look at the room before following the Atlantean out the door and into an adventure he hoped they all made out of alive.

“The current is too strong, how are we gonna…” Y/N rolled her eyes and brought her pointer fingers up in between her lips. A shrill whistle halted Wesley’s desperate ask and allowed his ears to become very appealing to the palms of his hands. As Y/N continued whistling, the noise wafted along with Hawaii’s breeze and alerted some of her friends from home.

“Douglas! Hey boy, glad you brought some friends.” She ran towards the bottlenose, ignoring Wesley’s gaping expression as her legs threaded through the waves to pet the gray rubber of Douglas’s head. “Alright guys, listen up: I need you to bring me and my friend here to the cove just a little past the current. Douglas can lead the way.” Wesley continues to study Y/N’s flapping lips and the dolphins’ calm expressions as she instructed them. So Douglas is a dolphin...noted.

“How much saltwater did I drink?” he asks, bringing a hand up to his temple.

“Oh, and could you call us some backup? We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Water spouts up from each of the dolphins’ blowholes and Y/N is greeted with eager chirps which could only send the right message.

Giggling, she says, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She turns back to find Wesley with his toes firmly dug in the sand. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“O-okay…” he decides, slowly wading his figure into the water. “I still don’t know how we’re getting through that current.”

“Oh, only the fastest transportation known to sea.” She spares a confident chuckle, before gently grasping Douglas’s dorsal fin. “Ever ridden a dolphin?”

“Um...once. When I was six...and it was technically a figurine on a carousel.”

“I don’t know what that is but it sounds close enough to me!” Y/N decides, readying herself as Wesley mimics her stance and takes hold of the bottlenose nearest to him.

“We’re ready when you are!” A series of chirps sound from Douglas.

“Yes, I promise I’ll get you Harry Styles’ autograph,” she groans, before surging off into the water with Wesley’s horrified screams keeping her company along the way.

“Just tell us already, Shawn. This whole . . . torturing thing is getting kind of old, don’t you think?” The boy was twitching helplessly against the rock, staring up at Ripley and Sandy, whom he was gripping with an unyielding fist. Foam from the previous administrations of the eel to his ribs is spat from his mouth and onto the cold, hard surface of the cove as he maintains his unblinking stare with the knight. Quickly, they flick down to the slick eel controlled by Ripley’s fist.

“I hope you get hooked, canned, and sold,” the boy muttered sharply, trying to control the tremors still sweeping through his body.

Ripley hums at this. “Very well.” The screams Sandy’s electrified body pulled from Shawn echoed around the cove in a haunting manner. Even Ripley found his arms covered with chills, but he refused to acknowledge them.

“You ready to fess up now? I’m sure it’ll only be a few more whips of Sandy’s tail before we leave you for dead.”

“Why--why are you doing this?” Shawn manages through a whisper. “Why does she matter so much to you. You don’t own her.” A strangled cry left Shawn as he maneuvered his body against the rock.

“I could ask you the same thing. What’s a land-walker want so badly from an Atlantean? For all we know, you could be planning to send her away for experiments and expose our whole kind to your world. So, tell me, Shawn, what is your motive for not giving me answers?”

Douglas and tens of other bottlenoses crept slowly towards the cove as soon as Ripley’s booming voice became apparent. Wesley gulped, finding the octave and swing and cadence of the voice all too familiar for his liking. As they neared the edge of the cove, Y/N dismounted from the dorsal fin of her companion and Wesley mimicked the action from his.

“So what is it, Shawn? Hmm?” Ripley started slow footsteps towards Shawn, urging the boy to clench his teeth in preparation for another round of jolts against his body.

Y/N spoke quietly to Douglas and the others, urging them to stay put as she and Wesley heaved themselves up onto the rocky edges of the cove. Both Merlin and Ripley had their backs turned to them and Y/N perceived their slow-moving figures as they cornered a trembling form.

“Tell us! NOW!” The same thundering voice from moments before reintroduced itself. And now with--somewhat--of a visual, each of Wesley’s new-built fears had all come true before his eyes.

“Dad?” The boy whispers meekly.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming 3/19/21

Join the taglist to see what happens next!

Taglist: @fallinallincurls @ilumxna @lonelyreputation @purely-imagines-and-fantasies @shawnmxndxs @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @sillyquirkymendessupporter @itsalwaysbeen305 @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @marissje @princessmia1705 @rosetoronto @itrocksmysocks @organicpurplepants @truthfulteenager @bluebellwoods

43 notes · View notes

amelka-anxiety · 3 years

Text

Tommy is babey, literally tho

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TOMMY

Run. Run. Run was all that could go through his mind right now. Dream was chasing Tommy. Tommy just wanted to get away from there. Dream blew up Logstedshire; Tommy had nothing to lose, apart from his life apparently, which was what he was running for right now. After about 15 minutes of a very close chase between Tommy and Dream, Tommy seemed to outrun the elder, which he was ever so thankful for.

After running so far, Tommy was exhausted and rightfully so; he almost just died. He was so, so cold, he was stuck, surrounded by snow. The boy decided to walk north for a bit further, in hopes that he would find rescue, and just as he hoped, he did. In the distance, he saw a small spruce cottage, with smoke erupting from the chimney, signaling that someone lived there; whoever it was, Tommy prayed that it wasn’t Dream. Uh oh. His vision became dotted and he could barely see, that probably wasn’t good. Right as he reached the front door and was about to knock, his legs collapsed and his mind went blank. He had passed out.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TECHNO

Technoblade finally had some time to himself. He’s been busy breeding the hounds and organising all day and he hadn’t had much time to relax in a while, and therefore he was now all cozy next to his fireplace, reading some books on greek mythology. He was pretty relaxed, well, until he heard a thud at his front door that is. He contemplated leaving it however his curiosity got the better of him. As he opened his door, he saw someone laying on the front step, ‘There’s no way that they’re older than 16.’ he thought to himself. Now, Techno is a ‘lone wolf’ as some might call it but he wasn’t gonna let some malnourished kid freeze to death on his front step. The man maneuvered the boy from outside onto his small couch; now that he got a better look at the boy, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

This frail, skinny boy was his younger brother. Worry filled Techno’s eyes, even though he pretended that the younger annoyed him ever so much, he had a soft spot for him, the kid could brighten anyone’s day by just saying hello. He had no idea what happened but that kid who was a ray of sunshine suddenly looked as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks and if anyone were to merely touch him, he’d crumble right then and there on the spot. Techno didn’t really know what to do except make Tommy comfortable until he woke up, and once he did, he’d ask him about everything. Techno couldn’t help but wonder what Tommy had gone through before he was there, ofcourse, he knew about Tommy’s exile but if it was like when he was exiled for the first time, Tommy wouldn’t be like this. Techno scoured his mind for what he knew of Tommy’s latest exile; Dream was to look after him, well clearly he wasn’t doing a good job. Oh fuck. Dream must have been abusing his little brother. With that thought, Techno stood up in rage. He was gonna kill that green bastard. That was until he heard stirring and a small whine from the couch. Whipping his head around, he saw Tommy try to sit up and ran over to him. The second that Tommy saw him he immediately started panicking. Techno being the awkward man he is, hugged Tommy in attempt to calm him down. This was gonna be a long night.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TOMMY

Tommy opened his eyes to be in an unfamiliar place, so of course, his first instinct was to panic. He sat up as quickly as he could and looked around, he saw his older brother approach him. Still in his tired state, his mind was all over the place and all that was going through his mind was ‘POSSIBLE DANGER. RUN’. Before he could process what to do and where to go, Techno had seemingly sensed his anxiety and hugged him tightly. The physical affection seemed to do its job and calm the younger down but it also made him feel loved, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. The overwhelming emotions made the boy burst into tears, something in his mind seemed to shift, it made him feel younger. However, that was utterly absurd, it must’ve been the stress getting to him. Oh no. Tommy realised what was happening, he almost forgot that he used to do this to cope during all the wars. Of course, nobody knew about it, he’d be caught dead before he let anyone know he regresses; however, his mind was too foggy right now to tell what was happening and therefore reciprocated the hug. Techno was surprisingly a good hugger, and when he finally let go after 5 minutes of a silent hug, only filled with Tommy’s little sniffles, the younger slightly whined at the loss of the calming touch. When Techno looked at Tommy’s eyes, something about them was.. different. They were filled with a somewhat childish innocence which made Techno suddenly feel so protective of him. Tommy seemed to come to his senses and tried to get out of headspace, which he somewhat succeeded at, and immediately apologised to his big brother. ‘I’m s-so sorry Techno- fuck- Imma go, imma go now,’’, Techno was now worried for his baby brother so he couldn’t let him get off the hook so easily. ‘Hey, Toms you’re not going anywhere, you’re clearly ill and I’m worried, tell me what’s going on, hm? You usually wouldn’t burst into tears just like that..’ Techno stated with clear worry in his voice. Tommy was contemplating just lying to Techno but he knew that it wouldn’t work. For someone who barely socialises, Techno is really good at reading people just like open books, so Tommy decided to, reluctantly, tell him about his regression above all of his other issues, seeing as he was already on the verge of regressing again. ‘Uh so about the crying thing.. have you ever heard of fuckin.. Age regression or little space of some sort?’ Tommy just hoped that this wouldn’t go badly. Techno of course, read a lot, so he had the general grasp of what Tommy was talking about, he guessed that his little brother regressed, and he couldn’t lie, just the thought of it was utterly adorable. The piglin hybrid noticed that he hadn’t actually answered Tommy’s question and nodded, ‘So.. you regress? I know a little bit about this stuff, do you wanna be little?’. If he was being completely honest, Tommy had no idea that Techno would be acting this accepting and.. caring? He subconsciously made the choice that Techno was friendly and it was okay to regress around him, and he gave a small nod, on the edge of completely slipping.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TECHNO

Techno sat himself comfortably next to the younger boy, looking at him in awe; the boy was only 16 and he’d gone through multiple wars and several betrayals, he was so very strong, Techno couldn’t even begin to describe how proud he was. ‘Hey buddy how old are you feeling?’, Techno got a reply of Tommy shying away into his hands and raising 3 fingers. ‘Very small then hm? We should get you into something into a bit more warm, you look quite chilly buddy.’, Tommy made grabby hands at Techno and how could he deny such an adorable request? Techno lifted the skinny boy and brought him to his bedroom, placing him on his bed. Techno once again couldn’t help but get upset once again that his former friend hurt his baby brother; Tommy could have gotten frostbite or hypothermia with the tattered, thin clothes he had been wearing in such a cold biome. Techno finally fished out some joggers and a red hoodie he hadn’t worn in a long time. When he turned back from his closet to his bed, the sight he was met with nearly gave him a heart attack with how pure and adorable it was. Tommy was sat on the bed, knees tucked to his chest and played with his fingers softly, a tiny smile painted on his face. Sadly, this is the happiest Techno had seen Tommy in months, or years even. Techno sat on the bed, next to his younger brother, and helped him get dressed, slowly and carefully, making sure that he didn’t startle the baby. Techno picked Tommy back up and placed him back on the sofa; the two were just cuddling, that is until they heard the front door open. Tommy curled himself into a ball, while Techno protectively placed himself in front of him. The older was slightly relieved to see Phil in the doorframe, however he didn’t know how their father would react to Tommy’s regression, or whether Tommy would even want him to know: Techno could tell that Tommy was very shy and secretive about it. ‘Hey Techno, mate, who’s that?’ Phil asked, clueless about the stress that his sons were in because of his presence. Techno was almost physically sweating with the pressure being put on him, he awkwardly replied ‘Oh uh, hey Phil,’ Techno looked to Tommy who looked terrified. ‘Hey Toms? It’s just Phil, you’re okay..’ Techno whispered to the boy in attempt to calm him down; it seemed to work quite a bit. Unfortunately for the boys, Phil heard what Techno said and jumped at the opportunity to talk to his youngest son, ‘Did you say Tommy? Hello Toms, what’s up?’. Tommy froze and slowly looked up at his dad, tears gathering up in his eyes, Techno noticed and went to comfort his little brother. Phil was beyond confused, and did what anyone would do, ask what was going on. Techno looked to Tommy for approval before telling their dad, to which the boy nodded. With the knowledge Techno had gathered, he tried his best to answer Phil’s question; Phil is a nice guy, he helps anyone who needs it, and so he knew of quite a few coping mechanisms, and this was one of them. The eldest seemed to grasp onto the idea surprisingly quickly, and was immediately helping Techno coddle the younger. Neither of them could deny, the baby was adorable, babbling to himself and chewing on his fingers, which wasn’t exactly sanitary but adorable nonetheless. With the three being fully aware that Ghostbur wouldn’t mind this version of Tommy, and would have fun taking care of Tommy, Techno and Phil couldn’t help but hope that their family could grow close once again. Philza was sure to never let his baby boys go again, they would all rekindle their relationship with each other day by day, and soon were a fully functioning family once again.

#agere community #sfw agere #sfw little blog #sfw #sfw little community #mcyt age regression #dream smp agere #agere mcyt #mcyt agere #little!tommy #cg!techno #cg!philza #dream smp age regression #dreamsmp

52 notes · View notes