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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Note

Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her

A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.

Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader

second part || Masterlist

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"It's not that easy."

"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."

You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."

"What?"

"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."

Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.

But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?

---

That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-

Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.

"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.

"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.

Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.

It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.

You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.

"Were you out clubbing?"

Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."

"'S okay." You offered another small smile.

Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.

As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?

The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?

And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?

You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.

"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"

Cariño.

You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"

Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.

"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"

You frowned, "what?"

"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"

You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."

"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Cariño-"

"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"

You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."

"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.

Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."

He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.

You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."

"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.

He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.

"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."

----

A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.

second part

#daddy pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #romance #joel miller #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #tlou #fluff #angst #request fic #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal tlou #javier pena #oberyn martell #rpf

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

Note

Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.

Word Count: 3,330

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.

She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.

This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.

Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.

"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."

Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.

Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.

Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.

It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.

Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.

It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.

Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.

"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.

To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.

Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.

What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.

That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.

Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.

"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.

It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.

"I would advise you not to lie to me."

He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.

"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.

"I'm here to help."

"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."

With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.

"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."

That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.

She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.

"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."

Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.

She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.

"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.

"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."

Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.

"What did they say? Who was it?"

The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.

"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"

Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.

"I told you, it's du-"

"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.

"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."

She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.

"Al... what are you..."

"Y/n, you are stunning."

There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.

Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.

"Alastor, I-"

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."

There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.

"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."

"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.

"Far from it, my sweet."

His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.

"You drive me to distraction."

Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."

"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.

"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."

He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?

"I'll go."

Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.

Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.

"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."

Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.

"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.

"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."

"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"

Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.

"Pinky promise me."

She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.

"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."

"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.

It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.

"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."

She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.

Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.

"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."

Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.

"No. You can."

Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."

She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.

"Do that again."

It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.

Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.

He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.

"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.

"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"

"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"

The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.

"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"

Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.

"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."

With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.

Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.

He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.

"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."

A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.

"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."

Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.

"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."

In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.

Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.

----

A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 4 months

Text

I Believe You, But Tell Me Again

(x)

Summary: Y/N is wondering if Jensen still sees her as he used to.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of fluffy smut. Sexy af Jensen. Rockstar!Jensen. Definitely a warning. Unprotected PinV sex. Oral (f receiving), Brief fingering, some slightly insecure thoughts, established relationship. Fluff.

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3,314

A/N: This fic is a request by @lacilou .

I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I can't get this out of my head. Jensen, in the photo you're using for Off and On Again. Where he's super hot, and he knows it. Kinda cocky but totally in love with the reader (established relationship - married, long-time girlfriend??) And reader doesn't understand why he's so into her, but she KNOWS it even though Jensen has to remind her with "Feel this? It's all for you, "while he's holding the reader's hand over his bulge. If you could throw in "this what you want?" while he's slowly stroking himself as he walks towards the reader, lust in his eyes.

I hope you enjoy it sweetie, and everyone else too.

The dividers below were created by @talesmaniac89

The lights were bright, slightly blinding, as Y/N sat in front of the two cameras aimed at her. There were two cameras so they could decide later on which side was her better side. Or possibly her worse side, depending on the tone of the interview.

Y/N squinted at the primped and stylish woman sitting across from her getting her makeup touched up. She wondered, would this interview be a friendly one? An interview to say, “Look everyone! Aren’t the Ackles great?” Or would it be one of those interviews that had an edge of nasty hovering just beneath the smile of the interviewer.

She watched this interviewer, Shauna, pull away from her makeup artist, scowling. “It’s fine, Lisa. Just leave it alone.”

Uh oh.

The interview started off friendly enough, touching on the things most journalists talked to her about - Jensen’s incredible skyrocketing success, his status as a rockstar icon, what a talent he was. As Jensen’s biggest fan, Y/N always enjoyed those kinds of questions. She couldn’t get enough of bragging about her ridiculously talented husband.

But then the mood of the interview shifted and Shauna started asking much more pointed questions.

“Now, Y/N, you and Jensen have been married over a decade now, right?” Y/N nodded. “Is there a secret to your success?” Shauna was smiling, but Y/N could see that her gray eyes were calculating.

It was a question she’d been asked a lot in the last couple of years as their ten year anniversary came and went. People seemed very interested in the fact that their marriage had lasted so much longer than had been anticipated. When Jensen had started dating her, just a nobody from nowhere, everyone had predicted it wouldn’t last.

People on social media and angry people with podcasts all had an opinion on their relationship.

-- She’s not cut out for the limelight.

-- It’s way too hard for someone like her.

-- She’s not used to the media. She’s gonna break under the pressure.

-- He’s a rockstar who could literally get any girl he wanted. So, what’s up with him picking her?

-- It won’t last. These showbiz marriages never do.

But ten years on, now people were wondering how they actually made it to a decade. “What’s the secret?” They all wanted to know.

“There’s really no secret, Shauna.” Y/N said with a smile. “When two people are madly in love with each other, when they respect each other and work together as partners, staying together becomes much easier.”

It was a variation on the same answer she’d given dozens of times. It happened to be true, but Y/N was still tired of trying to find new ways to explain to people that they got married because they loved each other, and they stayed married because the alternative was unthinkable for either of them.

Shauna smiled a sharp smile. “And in all those years, you’ve never been worried about the rock and roll lifestyle…leading Jensen astray?”

Y/N kept smiling because she couldn’t falter and let the reporter know she’d scored a hit. They weren’t usually that pointed with the infidelity question. Usually they skirted around it, saying things like, “Does it ever get hard when he’s on the road?” or “You must miss him when he’s touring. How do you keep tabs on him?”

Y/N’s personal favorite version of this question came from a middle-aged woman reporter with lipstick on her teeth. “Have you ever just shown up to surprise him, or tried to catch him being naughty?” It was said with a cheeky grin as though they were just besties chatting, but Y/N had wanted to snatch the woman bald.

Shauna’s version of the question was the closest anyone had ever come to asking her outright, “Do you worry about your husband cheating on you?”

Y/N kept smiling and shook her head. “No, never. If you knew Jensen, you wouldn’t wonder about it either. He’s the most loyal man I’ve ever known, and the most honorable. I know beyond a doubt that he doesn’t take our vows lightly, and that he would never, ever hurt me like that.”

Shauna seemed slightly taken aback by Y/N’s adamant, genuine answer, clearly expecting some anger or some kind of dramatic reaction from her. When she didn't get it, the reporter just smiled again.

“So sweet.” Was her response, acid dripping from her words.

***

The day of interviews had taken quite a bit out of Y/N, especially the last one, and she was tired as she wandered out to the limousine that was waiting to take her and Jensen back to their hotel, whenever he was done with his part of the press junket.

The limo driver opened the door for her and smiled. “Fatima says Mr. Ackles is almost finished and will be out in about ten minutes. Do you want to wait for him? Or should I take you and send another car for him?”

Y/N smiled back and shook her head. “No, let’s wait for him.”

“Okay, great.” The driver said as he closed the door behind her.

In less than ten minutes, she saw Jensen push out of the double doors, and amble towards the car. He wore black jeans that clung to his thick thighs, and a gray t-shirt covered by a black, long-sleeved denim shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the veins and corded muscles in his forearms - muscles he’d gained by long hours spent playing the guitar.

As he got closer to the car, she watched him push a hand through his long hair, sweeping it off his forehead, and she sighed deeply. Good God, he was so stunningly sexy.

Even when he was just walking, he moved with the same seductive grace he used like a siren song onstage. No matter how many times Y/N watched him in concert, she never got used to that kind of magnetic, cocky seductiveness that poured out of him when he was singing. He knew he drove people crazy. He knew it, and it just made him smile.

He was smiling now as he climbed into the car. “Hey beautiful.”

Y/N smiled tiredly at him, feeling her heart warm at his usual greeting. When he settled into the seat, he reached over and pulled her into his lap.

She squealed lightly as he lifted her, and then chuckled. “You know there are seatbelts we’re supposed to be wearing.”

Jensen shrugged and squeezed her tighter against him. “Nah! I gotcha.”

Y/N laughed again. “Oh, okay then.” She said, snuggling closer to him. The interview had knocked her off kilter a bit, and it felt especially good to have Jensen’s arms wrapped around her.

She tucked her head under his chin, and he ran his big hand up and down her arm. “Hey,” he said with concern lacing his voice, “everything okay?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a long day sitting in the same room, being asked basically the same questions.” She shrugged. “I just wanna get home. Or, well, hotel.”

Jensen accepted her answer, kissing her forehead and then her lips. “Me too.”

They ordered in their dinner, neither of them keen to face more crowds and questions, and spent the evening watching some trashy reality TV before calling it a night a bit earlier than usual.

Y/N went into the bathroom to get ready. She brushed her teeth and took off her makeup, and as she stood in front of the mirror she looked at her face closely.

There were some lines there that hadn’t been there when she first met Jensen. She knew there was a gray hair or two hiding amongst the rest that also hadn't existed back then.

She pulled her silk nightgown tight against her body and could see where she was rounder than she had been when she was younger. Her muscle tone wasn’t as good.

I should hit the gym more, she thought.

She pinched one of her love handles and pulled at her skin, wondering what Jensen really thought about all these changes. She knew he loved her, knew that he’d always found her attractive. But how was that holding up these days? Did he still feel the same kind of heat for her? Did he still want her as desperately as she still wanted him?

She jumped slightly as Jensen popped up in the mirror behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, and nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. He wore his pajama bottoms and nothing more. She looked at his biceps flexing around her as he squeezed her back against him, and his round, muscled shoulders, broad and strong, and she sighed. He was still so unbelievably perfect.

She lightly tapped his forearm where it rested just below her breasts. “You scared me.” She said, her voice accusatory.

He chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.” He caught her eye in the mirror. “But you seemed to be lost in thought.”

He moved his lips to her temple. “What thoughts are swirling around in that beautiful mind of yours? Hmm?” He murmured.

She shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.”

Jensen’s face in the mirror wore a disbelieving look. “Don’t believe that for a second.” He pulled back slightly, and turned her in his arms so she was facing him. A small line of worry was creased between his brows.

“You’ve been quiet all evening; something is obviously on your mind.”

Y/N shrugged again and looked down at their bare feet. “Just tired.”

Jensen put his knuckle under her chin and made her look at him. “Y/N. Tell me.”

Y/N was caught completely by surprise as her eyes welled up with tears. She didn’t know where these doubts were coming from or why she was feeling this way. Maybe it was just one too many snide questions.

Jensen’s face crumpled as he saw her tears. He cupped her cheeks and brushed them away as they spilled over her lashes. “Baby.” His voice was worried and confused. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, nothing happened. Really. It was just this reporter.”

Jensen waited for her to continue, but his worried expression darkened slightly in anger.

Y/N bit her lip and debated what to tell him, how to explain the feelings she barely understood herself. Finally she just went for the honesty they’d always had with each other; they’d never been afraid to ask for what they needed from one another, and what she needed was reassurance.

“Do you still want me? I mean, the same as you used to.”

Jensen seemed completely taken aback by the question. Clearly that hadn’t been where he expected this conversation to go. He shook his head.

“Why would you even ask that? Of course I do.”

Y/N frowned. “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. Please, tell me the truth. Are there things about me you’d change if you could?”

Jensen’s expression turned thunderous and he dropped his hands from her cheeks to grip her upper arms. “Y/N.” He said firmly. “What the hell are you talking about? Where is this coming from? Of course I don’t want you to change.”

“I don’t mean my personality, or whatever.” Y/N explained wiping her tears away with both hands. “But my face or my body, the way I look. I know it isn’t the same as when we first met.”

Jensen shook his head, his voice incredulous. “Well no, you don’t look exactly the same as the day I met you over a decade ago.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “But you know, I’m pretty sure I don’t either.”

Y/N felt her skin flush. “But you’ve just gotten hotter.” She frowned. “Guys do that.”

She opened her mouth to say something more, but Jensen slammed his mouth down on hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and invading her completely. She let out a little whimper as his hands let go of her arms to grab her ass and press her hard against him. He kissed her long, deep, swallowing every soft moan.

When he pulled back his voice was husky with want. “Baby, I don’t know where these questions are coming from, but I know the answers.”

He grabbed Y/N’s hand and placed it on his hard cock where it tented his pajama bottoms, obviously not restrained by underwear. She bit her lip as he closed his eyes and groaned when she wrapped her fingers around him.

“Feel this? It’s all for you, all because of you. Fuck, Y/N do you see what you do to me? Still? Always?” He pushed aside some of the bottles and jars that littered the countertop and lifted her onto it easily. His hand slipped between her legs and he groaned at her bare, wet pussy. “Believe me when I tell you that I want you. Every day. All the time. Years don’t change that.”

He shook his head. “In fact they just make things better cause now I know what happens if I do this.”

He dipped his head, sucking her satin clad nipple into his mouth, while his thick middle finger slid inside her body at the same time. A strangled cry left her lips and she thumped her head back against the mirror.

She felt him smile against her. “Exactly.”

He took his hand out of her to tug on her nightgown. She shifted slightly so he could pull the silky material over her head as he continued. “And yet, your body’s always a revelation to me. It never stops fascinating me.” His eyes followed the path of his fingers as he trailed them down her arms and then over the soft swell of her breasts. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin and her nipples puckered.

He circled his forefinger around the tight little bud, before dipping his head once again to flick the tip of his tongue against it.

Y/N moaned deeply and wrapped her fingers up in his honey brown locks. “Jensen.” She gasped as he sucked her breast into his mouth and drew on it deeply, causing her cunt to clench and quiver.

He pulled her forward, to the edge of the counter, and then dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her wide open so he could reach his tongue up to tease her hole. Y/N plunged her hand back into his hair and tugged on it before pushing his head harder against her dripping pussy.

“God, fuck Jensen, yes.” She rambled.

He hummed against her folds before nibbling at her clit, making her knees try to lock around his ears. But his superior strength kept her legs spread wide so he could feast. He breathed hot against her, alternating between flicking his tongue against her clit and sucking it between his plump, luscious lips.

It wasn’t long before Y/N was bucking against his mouth as she rode out her climax while he lapped up her juices. She panted desperately and tugged on his hair again, begging him. “Please Jensen, fuck me. I need to feel you, need you inside me so badly.”

Jensen stood and scooped her off the counter, walking back into their bedroom. He laid her out on the bed, making sure her head was propped up on the pillows, before stepping away from her. He moved far enough back so that she had an unencumbered view as he slowly lowered his pajama bottoms.

His cock sprang free to lean, hard and dripping, against his stomach. Y/N felt her mouth go dry and a keening moan erupted from her throat as he gripped himself in his fist, pumping slowly.

He walked towards her one slow step at a time. His voice was a growl. “Is this what you want?” She nodded, biting her lips and trying desperately not to come again, just from watching him.

“Tell me you want it.” Jensen ordered.

Y/N nodded again, almost frantically. “Yes, fuck. I want it. I want your cock.” She reached for him as he stood barely a foot from the side of the bed. “I need it. I need you.”

Jensen climbed onto the bed on his knees, grabbing up her wrists with both hands and pressing them into the pillows on either side of her head. He stared into her eyes as he spoke.

“And I need you too, Y/N. I need you desperately, obsessively. I need you every waking minute. I need your love and your kindness. I need your good soul and beautiful heart.” He entered her in one hard thrust and she cried out. “But I also need your soft body. I need to sink into you. I need to feel you move against me. I need to hear you say my name like a moan. I need to feel you clench tight around me.”

He began moving slowly, sliding in and out of her with silky, unhurried movements. “I will always love you. I will always want you. And I will never need you any less than completely.” He cupped her cheek with one hand. “Do you understand me?”

Y/N nodded and gasped as his cock slid over her sweet spot. “Yes. Yes.” Was all she could manage to chant. But it satisfied him and he began to move faster.

He switched positions slightly so he could lift her hips off the bed, hooking her knees over his forearms. He began to slam into her, hitting that same sweet spot over and over until Y/N was screaming out her overwhelming pleasure and falling into euphoria.

Jensen continued to jackhammer into her, grunting harshly with each thrust. He pounded into her pussy over and over until she was once again on the precipice of bliss. As his hips faltered, he dropped one of her legs so he could slide his thumb between their bodies and swirl it against her clit. She screamed again and fell for the third time, clenching around him and pulling his climax out of him, along with her own.

The familiar aftermath of damp skin pressed together and lungs starved for oxygen, brought Y/N a kind of all encompassing satisfaction and peace. When Jensen finally rolled off of her, she rolled with him, so she could slot herself up against his side, wrapping one arm over his ribs and laying her head on his chest as he ran his fingers teasingly up and down her back making her shiver.

They were both quiet for a few minutes before Jensen broke the silence. “Y/N tell me the truth.” He said, and Y/N could hear the protectiveness and anger on her behalf permeating his tone. “Did someone say something or do something to hurt you today?”

But she just shook her head. “No, it wasn’t any different than a million other interviews really.” She shrugged. “Something about it just hit me, I guess.”

She raised up on her elbow, chin in her hand, to look at him. “But if you tell me you love me as truly, madly, deeply as you did the day we met, then I believe you.”

Jensen frowned slightly. “Are you comparing me to a Savage Garden song?”

Y/N giggled, but ignored the question, kissing him softly before laying her head back down on his chest. She smiled against his skin as she spoke.

“I believe you, but tell me again.”

Jensen��s breath ruffled her hair as he sighed contentedly. “I will love you, and desperately want to devour you, every single day of my life - for the rest of my life.”

Y/N nodded, and her voice was full of confidence as she snuggled closer. “Thought so.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#jensen ackles #jensen rpf #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles fan fic #request fic

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akoyaxs · 7 months

Note

Hi! Could you do a Ao’nung x Sully Reader where Ao’nung gets heat stroke or something and kind of brushes it off and is stubborn about it (cause he doesn’t really seem like the kind to ask for help-) but Reader takes care of him anyways. Thank you!!

✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!metkayina!tsakarem reader (betrothed but not in love YET)

✮ Tags: oneshot, injury, FLUFF

✮ Word Count: 1.8k

Sweet Anon, I hope you enjoy this story 💗

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You knew something was wrong when Aonung didn’t have that stupid cocky grin always plastered to his face, no taunting gleam in those bright eyes, no entitled comments rolling from his mouth like it was his birthright (which in some ways it was, but you’d never admit that).

He had stumbled into the healing marui you occupied when helping Ronal out as Tsakarem, completely oblivious to you seated on the floor, crushing some herbs in the cool shade from the entrance. You frowned first, fully intending on asking him what he was doing bothering you right now when he knows full well his mother isn’t in here, before it occurs to you that he mustn’t know you’re in here either.

Usually, he spots you with that piercing gaze reserved only for you, just so he can come over to make some snarky comment or boast about his latest accomplishment you hardly pay attention to. Which makes it extremely odd he hadn’t noticed you in your pretty obvious spot on the floor, staring at him with confused annoyance as he rifles carelessly through the boxes and storage of herbs you had just organised.

“Can I help you,” you ask with a sigh. You were well used to Aonung’s entitled take on life, but this was a whole new level of brazen cockiness to storm into your healing marui and make a complete mess.

But to your surprise, Aonung flinches back, apparently actually not having realised you were right in front of him, face twisted in a slight grimace, which he tries to hide with a scowl.

“Yes, actually,” he grunts, teeth grinding slightly as he straightens up. You notice the muscles in his neck tighten as he winces again. “Where is all your stupid healing shit?”

“In this marui..?” you point out, getting increasingly confused, and now slightly unnerved. “You need to be more specific. What do you need help w-”

“I don’t need help,” Aonung says tensely through gritted teeth, and your frown deepens. “Just- where is all your stuff?”

He gives an irritated flick of his hand as he turns towards you, accidentally knocking over a box of herbs you collected this morning, all of them spilling and mingling out of their neat selections onto the woven floor.

This is how it usually was with Aonung. Since the two of you became betrothed, you had tried to make reason with him, but by this point you had resigned yourself to the fact that your future mate was a complete and utter skxawng. Trying your best to fight down the pained, annoyed shout you were longing to berate him with, you take a deep breath and lightly tug at his arm.

“Sit, Aonung,” you sigh, leading him to the floor. When he impatiently tries to tug himself free, you tighten your grip and give him a stern look.

“Do you know who I-”

“Yes I am very aware who you are Aonung,” you roll your eyes, pushing down on his head to try and get him to sit, to no avail given his ridiculous size. “But this is my marui where I heal, so no matter who your parents are or if you’re going to lead in the future, I won’t be tolerating bumbling skxawngs with anger issues breaking my stuff.”

Aonung huffs in disbelief and you’re sure he’s about to make some comment that one day you’ll share as mates, blah blah blah, but finally to your surprise, he obliges and sits cross-legged on your woven mat for your patients, and you sigh with relief.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you say, patting his head like a good little boy and kneeling in front of him. “Now what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, not meeting your gaze and scowling.

“Right,” you raise your brows. “So I guess I’ll just let you sulk on my floor then.”

“Perfect, I don’t need you bothering your pretty little he- HEY!”

You suck in a sharp gasp, ignoring Aonung’s indignance that you distracted him to try and discern the issue, and his ears flatten back against his head. Half of his side, stretching painfully from his waist and up along his ribcage is scraped with the unmistakable barb of the outer-reef coral, and there’s a deep bite mark in the flesh of his left arm. Instantly, your gaze flicks up to Aonung, to find him already watching your face closely.

“You went hunting outside the reef alone? Again?”

“Eywa,” Aonung says sullenly. “I’m not a little boy, I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly not,” you whisper, eyes raking once more over the scrapes. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t know you were in here,” Aonung hisses, teeth gritted once more. “If I knew you’d be here and bothering me, I never would have come. I can just as easily leave-”

“No!” you say quickly, grabbing his arm to keep him still. “I’m sorry. Just let me help you.”

Aonung blinks, the words he’d been about to utter dying on his tongue at your offer, before his gaze flicks down to his arm held in your gentle, smaller hands. Instantly, for fear of being yelled at for touching the precious prince, your fingers loosen, and your hand drops away, face flushing.

“I just mean,” you correct, clearing your throat and cursing the blush on your cheeks, “that it wouldn’t be right of me to let you leave like this, particularly with you being… who you are. Just… please stay still Aonung.”

To your surprise, he blinks back, still looking a little disorientated which you quickly write off as a side effect of his injury. With a small sigh of relief and a shy, encouraging smile, you stand up and gather some herbs and ointments, mashing them in a large round shell before kneeling back in front of him.

“This may sting a little,” you say gently, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder to get a good look at his injuries. All he returns is a curt nod, muscles tense under your fingers as your face peers around his body.

It’s a tedious process, wiping and dabbing the scrapes with a cool damp cloth, tentatively smearing the paste over them before blowing lightly on it. Despite all your determined efforts to be overwhelmingly gentle – you are weary of the fit he might throw if you accidentally hurt him – Aonung doesn’t complain or wince or hardly even bat an eye, and you’re ever grateful for it.

However, it is a tense ordeal. Every light brush of your fingers against his warm muscled body makes his jaw clench. Every infinitesimal flex of your hand on his shoulder as you lean and shift to treat him makes the muscles in his neck strain somewhat, as though he’s fighting the urge to break away from you. Every cool breath of yours fanning across his skin has his eyes narrowing and widening in a laboured almost-panic.

You’re almost scared to speak (though you don’t know what you would say), terrified to break this strained, stretched silence, but also very aware of every movement, noise, and flinch in said quiet. You settle on finally speaking; at least that way you aren’t flinching every time you accidentally brush against him.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly. “Is this not-”

“It’s fine,” Aonung says tersely, cutting you off with blunt coldness, and you feel yourself wincing inwardly at how stupid you sound right now.

“Right,” you mutter under your breath, aspirating the t and rolling your eyes. You duck your head back down and continue in your work, praying to Eywa he doesn’t notice the flush of your cheeks as you heal him.

Finally, his side is finished, and you take his arm in your hands to study it. It must be an akula bite, given the sheer terrifying size of it, and as you slowly dab the injury, Aonung finally cracks, letting a tiny wince and an almost silent hiss escape from his stony façade.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but Aonung just shakes his head, grits his teeth, and you continue.

It’s obvious this wound is deep, excruciating even, but Aonung stares straight ahead throughout your dabbing and smearing and blowing until you can finally wrap a bandage around it and clear your stuff away. You pour him a cup of soothing tea as he waits somewhat patiently for you to address him, maybe even dismiss him. His newfound obedience is strange, and you find yourself smiling at the sight of him sitting cross-legged and grouchy like a little boy who scraped his knee.

“You should stop hunting alone outside the reef,” you say quietly, back turned to him as you rinse out the paste and blood sodden cloth. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

Aonung is silent for a moment and you highly suspect he’s rolling his eyes or maybe even preparing himself for yet another entitled monologue on his great status and disregard for authority and yada yada yada, but strangely, you feel him shift behind you with an amused, “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m serious,” you huff, chucking the towel down and turning to glare at him. The amused look on his face slides off at the evident concern on your face, and you sigh. “You have to stop getting injured, Aonung.”

He blinks in surprise, before reaching out to tug you closer. He’s strong enough – even with his injury – to pull you alone, but you find yourself obliging and coming to sit beside him.

“Well, I’m lucky to have you to fix me up,” he comments, smirking slightly and tucking your hair back.

“Not if you keep acting like an absolute skxawng every time I try and help you,” you counter, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you still, letting Aonung’s hand tucking away your hair fall gently to stroke your cheek fondly.

“I’m sorry syulang,” he whispers, a small furrow forming between his brows. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie. “You were bothering me.”

Aonung laughs lightly, but as his face trails nearer to yours, you still don’t pull away.

“Is that so?” he asks, face inches from yours. You don’t answer. It’s only when his lips are practically breaths away from brushing against your own when you pull back and frown at him.

“Heal first skxawng,” you grin at his offended, shocked expression. “Then we’ll see what happens.”

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༊ Taglist:

@hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul

😘

#avatar fanfiction #aonung x reader #aonung fic #aonung x female reader #avatar fandom #avatar smut #aonung fanfiction #avatar the way of water #aonung #avatar #request #request fic #betrothal #healing

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

okay am actually obsessed with feral reader & i saw you’re taking prompts/requests!! so how would feral reader react to joel being injured 👀 either while on patrol in wyoming or on their journey there w ellie

Aww thank you!! I'm so happy people have taken to her! And yesssss I'd had something along this line roughly in my head so I'm definitely down with this prompt!

Beast Joel Miller x fem!reader The Last of Us (Show/Game) 2.3k Words Warning: Gore, violence! Really putting the feral in Feral Reader lol

Later, she’d tear herself apart because they knew better. They knew to stay in pairs, knew to still be cautious, knew to not be so casual about the trips to the outskirt cities during patrols. It didn’t matter how long they’d been at Jackson, they knew what life was like outside the walls and it wasn’t something they could be nonchalant about. Complacency led to death and Jackson gave you a taste of that life. Life before a monstrous fungus destroyed everything. They were paying for that delusion now.

She grit her teeth at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of Joel’s growl of pain and anger coming from around the corner where she was hiding. Something had felt off and she’d come back only to find he had been ambushed, wrist shackled to a pipe low to the ground and cut on his forehead bleeding down into his eye. The bruise blossoming on his cheek told her he’d already taken a few punches.

From her hiding spot, she could see there were two guys in the room with him. One crouched down holding a knife close to Joel, blood smeared across his face from a busted lip and black eye already forming. The other was standing closest to her, watching what was unfolding with a pistol hanging loosely in his hand. She almost snarled at the site of the blood spreading from Joel’s side, turning her favorite denim shirt dark red from some injury she couldn’t fully see. He was as angry as she was, brow heavy and glaring up at the two with a sneer. It was a stare that had promised violence, had signed death warrants and delivered it. They’d hurt him. They’d hurt Joel. It wasn’t an impossible thing. He was human. She’d seen them get into fights before, but this time they’d cornered him and there was no Ellie barrier. No leash that told her to be quick and efficient and not freak the kid out. No second focus for her. No one besides Joel to protect. All she could feel was rage because they’d hurt one of her people and were enjoying it, grins on their faces and chuckles leaving their throats. Her hackles raised, teeth grit together to the point her jaw hurt, as her hand gripped the bow she’d brought. They had planned to hunt. Got tired of dinner experiments and attempts to cook so they were going back to what they knew. Hunting wasn’t entirely off the table, just a different kind of prey was the target. She’d have to move fast. Move before the one closest to Joel could hurt him, move before they could react and shoot either of them. She didn’t have the same brutal strength her partner did but she was quick and quiet and that was all she needed. Taking a deep breath, she swiveled around the corner and drew the bowstring back taut, feeling it almost kiss her cheek before releasing with a quiet swish. It was fast and at close range the arrow hit home hard and brutally into the back of the guy closest to her’s skull.

A choked gasp left his throat from the impact then he was sliding to his knees, crumpling and drawing the other’s attention. Even in the chaos she could see Joel’s eyes flick over, take her in as she ran in a dead sprint towards the one crouched by him. He was still kneeling, knife in hand, but he was slow to react. In the back of her mind, she wondered how these men could have gotten the jump on him. Maybe all the jokes about him getting older were starting to ring true, her complaints about settlement life making them complacent coming back to haunt them. Domesticated. They’d been domesticated and for some reason that pissed her off more. The stranger hadn’t managed to get off the ground fast enough and instead was the perfect height for her to get the bow around his neck and yank him hard into her knee. He choked and wheezed, arms flailing as she growled and pulled. She pulled with all her strength, using her arm strength to keep the bow as tight against his windpipe as she could while her knee pushed him harder and harder into it. Ellie had asked once if they had ever snapped anyone’s necks. Like in the movies where they simply yank the goon’s head slightly in the other direction and it cracks, easy peasy. She’d told her it wasn’t that easy. Spines and necks are actually a lot tougher, can take a lot of strain and usually need a lot of pressure to break. Right now she wished it was that simple. Wanted to see how much pressure she could drive into his spine before that crack would reach her ears. The guy finally stopped flailing in panic and decided to use the knife still in his hand, stabbing wildly over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her and get her off him.

Joel was bucking and yanking at the cuffs, yelling as he attempted to get free or reach them to help. His hand was turning purple from the pressure and the blood in his side was spreading even more. She wanted to tell him to quit it, to think and focus because he was only hurting himself.

Both her hands were starting to hurt from the strain of pulling the bow and he wasn’t going down. With a hiss, the knife managed to skim her shoulder, slicing through her shirt sleeve. It was a gamble but she couldn’t keep it up, was going to exhaust herself before the guy would be out. When the stranger went to stab her again, she dropped the bow abruptly and grabbed his arm, wrenching it far back and ripping the knife from his grip as he screamed in pain. The knife found its home soon after, stabbed into the side of his head, cutting off the sound of his strained gasps. Jerking it back out, she took deep breaths while holding the knife, panting and watching the body collapse at her feet. There was silence for a bit, the slight clinking of the cuffs rattling against the pipes all she could hear for a second and adrenaline shooting through her veins. She enjoyed that silent moment after the fight was over where all she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat and lungs expanding and collapsing. It was the sound of still being alive. Joel’s eyes found hers and she relaxed a bit, seeing the way they burned. Either from want, gratefulness, wonder, she wasn’t sure. But never fear or disgust and that’s all she cared about. He was safe, they were alive, the people were dead. And maybe that small moment with him was what distracted her right before a third attacker came barreling in, tackling her to the ground. The man was big and angry and screaming in her face. The tackle had put her at a disadvantage, shoving her onto her back with her arms pinned between their bodies along with the knife. She couldn’t get her harms free or make any room to get leverage against him. The third attacker was heavy and her breath had been knocked out of her. She struggled to gulp in the air, to get breath into her lungs, before the man’s hands were around her neck. Joel was shouting her name. The man was spitting and yelling so close to her she could feel the spit land on her skin while his hands squeezed. They were big, were wrapped all around her neck easily. All she could do was buck like a trapped animal, teeth and claws bared as she struggled wildly under his weight. If she got taken out, Joel would be next. If she died, Joel would die. He couldn’t get free, couldn’t get back to Jackson and Tommy, couldn’t get back to Ellie. Her throat was raw and lungs burned, her mind desperately trying to find a solution but all she could hear ringing in her ears was Joel’s yells. The man was almost nose to nose with her, dirty face twisted in rage.

As hard as she could muster, she smashed her head into her attackers, feeling the clatter of bones and teeth shake her skull. He shouted and jerked back, hands loosening just a bit. Not enough she could get her arms free, but enough that she rushed forward and latched onto his neck with her teeth. She clamped down as hard as she could. His skin was dirty and salty and bile rose but she bit down harder and harder. Flesh tore beneath her teeth and blood rushed into her mouth, metallic and sharp, as he screamed and tried to get away from her. It only helped her to do more damage, ripping the skin. Jackson was home, but it wouldn’t tone her down. If anything, it gave her more to protect, more things she would tear herself apart to keep safe. She’d rip the throat out of anyone who dared to hurt what was hers. The man rolled off of her, desperately trying to cover the large hole in his neck as blood flooded out. She spat out the chunk of flesh with a growl and turned over with a hard swing of her hand, the knife skimming off bone before sinking into his chest with a hard thud. There was a wet gurgling sound coming from him and she panted, spitting some of the blood in her mouth onto his body. There was no appreciating the silence this time, no letting the rage simmer down. It stuck to her, hot and bright, like the blood coating her mouth and jaw. “Which one had the handcuffs?” she bit out and almost startled herself at how rough and raspy her voice came out. It felt raw, painful, but she swallowed past it and climbed unsteadily to her feet. Joel’s face was a mask as he took her in, took in the three bodies around him and the blood covering her. He didn’t say anything, only jerked his head at the guy with the shiner she had attempted to strangle. Her body didn’t feel grounded, a second delay in her processing making her feel out of it, but she focused on the taste of copper on her tongue and roughly went through the guys pockets searching for the key. Her fingers wrapped around a small piece of metal and she sighed in relief, thankful she wasn’t going to have to find a way to break the pipe and get the cuffs cut off in Jackson. Joel still didn’t say anything as she walked over and kneeled heavily in front of him, hands going to the cuffs and working to get them undone. His hand and wrist were torn up from all the yanking he had done and she was thankful it wasn’t his dominant one or he’d be pissed. Not broken, but the skin was bruised and purple and would need one of the doctors to look at it along with the wound in his side. The metal clicked and she pulled his hand free, not letting go, instead checking it over completely before she cupped his cheek and took in the gash on his forehead. “Hey,” he bit out the word, eyes dark and lips pressed together into a hard frown. She ignored him, focusing on checking him over and taking a mental log of all his injuries. She should have killed them slower. “We’ll have to scrap this run and get you looked at. I don’t trust those cuffs and the last thing we need is you getting infected,” muttering, she yanked up the bottom of his shirt without even asking and took in the long gash along his ribs, “You’ll need stitches. I can also see if Maria can get the blood out of the shirt and maybe patch the hole. This one’s a good one, I don’t want you to have to throw it away.” Joel growled her name again, this time louder, and grabbed her chin roughly in his hand to force her focus onto his face.

She clenched her jaw under his fingers, swallowing blood and pain. Waited for the beratement, the breakdown of what went wrong and the self-punishment he liked to give himself so often. Waited for the potential disgust at the violence. But she wouldn’t apologize. He’d seen her do worse for less and she wouldn’t apologize for protecting him.

Instead, he watched her and took in the hard line of her brow, the blood drying across her mouth and chin and smeared all over, the bright fire of rage still burning in her eyes. And then he yanked her forward, kissing her hard and brutally, practically pulling her into his lap.

He didn’t cringe away at the taste of someone else’s blood on her tongue, of the way those teeth had ripped into someone a few moments before. He drank her in desperately, uninjured hand diving into her hair and tightening on the strands. The pain was still there. Her throat was raw and his hand stung as it clung to her side, knife wound bleeding even as he brought her onto his thighs. They both didn’t care, swallowing the other’s gasps of pain and pleasure.

Her whole body relaxed in his grip as if to say he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay and she let herself hold him tight and kiss him.

He would never say thank you. It was a process to get the words dragged out of him, but with him his actions always spoke louder. His fingers skimming her throat whispered that he would have killed them himself if he could, his tongue against hers spoke of his acceptance, his tight grip on her was his gratefulness.

Joel didn’t pull away from her, didn’t try and change her, and she’d rip the whole world apart for him for that fact alone. He was her family and she protected what was hers.

#tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #raicodoll writes #oc: red #fic: beast #Series: feral #anon asks #asks #request fic

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fortunekookie07 · 20 days

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X amount of time ago, I got my first request for a story. I am still over the moon about that. And being that Xavier's new memories just dropped, I chose him per requesters prompt.

Potatosugar this one is for you

Moment Forever Lost

Rafayel, just thinking or hearing his name sent butterflies coursing through your stomach. Your best friend, the person you felt closest to in the world. The one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Rafayel, the one existence in this world you felt you could never reach. Not after she entered the picture. How many plans had been rearranged, canceled, or simply forgotten because for Rafayel, she always came first.

When Rafayel told you that she was the one who had rescued him as a kid, and then confided in you that I'm that moment he fell in love with her. Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

After all, how could you compete with that? She was a hero to Rafayel, and he was smitten. The first time you met her you wanted to abandon all hope. She was beautiful.

Perfect, straight, long dark brown hair. A small frame and delicate features. It was like fate had created a perfect girl and then sent her your way to destroy the future you'd wanted.

You had begun to war with yourself internally. Half of you instantly hated her for stealing your place. The spot next to Rafayel had belonged to you. You'd been the one friend who stuck by him since middle school. Rafayel's personality was a bit off putting to most people after all. Even she had found his manners a bit extreme.

The other half of you actually liked her. She was nice, friendly, and very likeable. Her smile alone put anyone at ease. Then there was her talents. As a Deepspace Hunter, her skills were unrivaled amongst her graduating class. She had been named the best and she'd gotten to join the Unicorns Team that took on the most dangerous missions. It was no wonder that Rafayel was smitten with her.

You constantly compared yourself to her. Frustration rising whenever you thought about the goal you once had. Your Evol had never really developed. Making the ground shake around you would not benefit you or your partner at all. Often times you couldn't even control it. Whenever your emotions got out of hand so would your Evol. It drove you crazy to see someone else living your dream.

You hated yourself for having such negative thoughts about someone so kind. She ha never once been cruel to you. Even if she constantly seemed to but in whenever you were spending time with Rafayel.

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

Today was your birthday, twenty four years old now. The same age as Rafayel. By a few months, as he constantly reminded you. Proud of being the older, and therefore wiser one.

Rafayel had insisted on going out to celebrate. He'd wanted to take you to his favorite restraint. It was high class and typically only catered to famous individuals and top notch business men and women. It wasn't unusual to see this place booked out for some high tech companies meeting.

Rafayel had persuaded you to come here. He wanted to make you feel important. Not just to him, but for yourself. He wanted to make this a day to remember. He had reserved a table with a fantastic view of the city below and gotten you a beautiful dress to wear.

The color was a deep, dark blue. A sheer outer skirt of intricate lace. The lace went all over the dress and the sleeves. Fitting your figure perfectly. Complimenting all of your best features.

You arrive at the restaurant and walk to the maitre'D. "Reservation for two. Under Rafayel, has he arrived yet?" You ask with a smile. The man looked down at the tablet in front oh him, scanning the list of reservations for the night.

"I'm sorry miss, I don't have any reservations for Mr. Rafayel tonight". The man looked apologetic as he relayed the news. "Oh maybe he made the reservation under my name"? You say with a question and rattle off your own name. The man shakes his head again. "No miss, no reservations under you either". You felt your heart sunk as you stepped away from his podium.

You fish your phone out of the small hand bag you'd brought and immediately call Rafayel. It goes straight to voicemail so you leave a message. "Rafayel, I'm here at the restaurant but they don't have a reservation for us. I'll just wait for you. See you in a few". After hanging up you go to sit on the cushy bench just outside the entrance doors.

Five minutes goes by and you check your phone anxiously. Nothing, no calls or texts. You tuck your phone back into the bag. Couples drift by you once in a while. Some of them glance at you curiously as they walk inside.

Fifteen minutes go by and Rafayel has still not appeared. A sinking feeling in your stomach knots your insides up. This is not the first time you've been stood up, but like a puppy everytime he calls your name you go running back. A burn in the corners of your eyes start as you desperately try not to cry.

You pull your phone out again and call Rafayel once more. It still goes straight to voice mail. "Rafayel where are you? You are coming right? I'm still here waiting for you". Your voice cracks a bit at the end before you finally manage to stave off your tears.

Still wanting to belive that he would not ditch you on your birthday, you continue waiting. Perched on the seat, hoping, just praying, that Rafayel will suddenly appear. Hair disheveled from running and face apologetic, but it doesn't.

For forty-five minutes you sit on that bench and wait. When some of the people who'd gone in for dinner are now coming out you stand up, shame burning your face red. The looks on their faces clearly peg you as having had your date ditch you. You can't take being judged by people you don't even know and run off. The tears have broken free and are streaming down your face.

You don't know or care where you are going at the moment. Just away from there. You stop running after you stumble and realize you've made it to the edge of the downtown area. The restaurant is some thirty blocks behind you. Thankfully it isn't too late and this is a well traveled area. You're able to get a taxi.

Your phone rings as the taxi pulls up in front of your apartment. Rafayel's name and picture flashing on the screen. You send the call to voice mail and pay the driver.

As you're unlocking your door your phone starts ringing again. Rafayel's name and picture showing up once more. In anger you just turn your phone straight off and stuff it into the bottom of your bag. A voice speaks behind you.

"Wow, are you so against taking my call that your abusing your phone too"? That haughty tone can only belong to one person. Rafayel.

You turn and pin him with your angriest glare. "I don't even want to see you right now, much less hear your voice." You spit, hurling all the venom you can muster with your pain and humiliation.

He reaches out to take your hand and you're quick to slap it away. You hide the wince at the loud sound if the smack and the stinging on your palm. His arm is still held out towards you. The back of his hand red with the marks of your fingers.

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes again. "I get that I am not first in your life and that I never will be, but how could you stand me up on my birthday with plans that YOU made"? You ask not looking at him as your voice cracks. He moves in closer and forces you to look at him.

"You are important to me, you're my best friend. I am so sorry about tonight...". You cut him off placing your hand over his mouth before he can say her name. "I don't want to hear it Rafayel, don't say her name. Especially right now". You feel like your soul will shatter if he utters her name now.

He brushes your tears away one handed and you finally realize he's been holding his other arm behind his back. Before you can ask he's drawing his arm from behind his back and presents you with a bouquet. The fragrance hits you before your mind can register what you are seeing.

In his hands is a dozen of the largest white chrysanthemums you have ever seen. The bloom easily bigger than his hand. You didn't even know the flower could get this big. You close your eyes breathing in the scent of your favorite flower.

"I am sorry, this couldn't be avoided. It was an emergency. Let me make it up to you tomorrow. It's the first day of the lantern festival. Let me take you". You look at him in surprise. It was a well known fact that Rafayel hated crowds, for anything. It was one of the reasons why he so often skipped out on his painting exhibits. He didn't care for all the noise either. You'd never been able to get him to go to one before.

"R-really"?!? You ask hardly believing your ears as your heart soars. He nods before replying. "Really, let me take you". You hug him tightly in response. The ruined birthday all but forgotten now.

"I'll pick you up at 6:30 tomorrow". He says when you finally let go. "See you romorrow"! You tell him excitedly before going inside.

Once in the kitchen you search for your flower vases. Finding the perfect one that can hold such a large bouquet, you fill it with water and csrefully place them in it.

You take a deep whiff of the flowers before heading to your bedroom. As you get your pj's on you feel a sense of dread, like something bad is going to happen real soon. You squash it down and force yourself to sleep.

The following day can't pass fast enough. All day long you are distracted, even you co workers notice that you aren't getting much done. Seeing as you are usually zipping through your work it isn't hard to notice.

Finally the end of the work day has come. You excitedly clean up your desk and shut your computer down. Being an office consultant had its drawbacks but the job was easy and the pay was good. Even if it was boring sometimes. It was the safe and stable direction your parents had encouraged you to take after failing to qualify for the Hunter's Association.

After you got home you were quick to jump in the shower and freshen up. You only had an hour before Rafayel would be knocking at the door.

You decide to wear easy to move in clothes. A white dress and sandals with no heel. The dress is simple and cute. Having a halter style top and a point cut skirt that swishes while you walk.

Just as you finish tying your hair into place the doorbell rings. You grab your phone, keys, and wallet then slip them into your small off white knit bag and run towards the door.

Rafayel smiles in the other side and draws you into a hug. "You're right on time"! You say brightly closing thr door behind you after locking it. Rafayel casually takes your hand as he's done many times before and you start walking.

He asks you what you want to do first when the first lights appear just ahead of you. "Let's walk around the stalls and play some games"! You say just as a familiar figure comes into view. Your blood freezes as you recognize her.

You turn and look sharply at Rafayel and stop short. He tries to mask his expression and you can stop the look of betrayal on your face. You jerk your hand out of his. "Did you invite her to come with us"?!? You ask your eyes darting back and forth across his face searching for a denial.

She quickly interjects. "Rafayel didn't invite me. He told me he was going and I decided to come too. I didn't know I was interrupting a date". She says holding her hands up to calm you down. Her face is genuinely sorry and guilt is written all over her face.

"If it makes you feel better I'm meeting up with someone too. I though we could walk around as a threesome. But we can make that pairs. He's my partner from work. His name is Xavier, he's a good guy. Easy to get along with. You might like him". She says with a bashful smile.

Oh, OH there's that look on her face. You recognize it as you'd worn that same expression whenever you thought about Rafayel before. You glance at the man in question. His face is tight and there is a forced smile on his lips.

"There he is now! Xavier"! She calls waving wildly to someone coming up behind you. Turning you see a tall man with ash blond hair and a pair of the deepest blue eyes you've ever seen. "This is Rafayel and his friend". She introduces the two of you to him. He nods and looks you over before nodding with a small smile. "I'm Xavier, nice to met you". He says going to stand beside her.

This man radiates calmness but you can feel a dangerous aura lurking beneath that. As well as a fierce protectiveness for the small woman beside him. She grabs your hand and tugs you into the bustling crowd ahead. "Come on, or were going to miss all the fun"! Her excitement is contagious and your earlier anger had completely disappeared.

It seemed for once that Rafayel had not interjected her into your plans. That happiness was short lived when you noticed he kept paying attention to Xavier and suggesting that he play this and that game with her. Alot of the time she agreed, sometimes she would decline and play with Xavier. Most of the time she would play twice with both of them.

You were beginning to feel like a third wheel and regretting ever having come to this festival. Rafayel was hardly doing any of the activities with you and it stung sharply. Wasn't this supposed to be his apology for ditching you on your birthday?

Finally you could stand it no more and you stopped walking. The only one to notice was Xavier he looked back at you and asked "Are you ok"? You shook your head. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home". You turned and walked straight back the way you'd come. Ignoring the protests from everyone coming this way and them telling you, you were going the wrong way.

It seemed like it took forever but finally you made it back to the entrance of the festival and you sat down. The tears came again. You just couldn't understand how and why you were so ignored by Rafayel. Your jealousy burned as every scene played back in your head. Rafayel had only played a few games with you and every time had been when she hadn't wanted dtonolaybwith him first. It had only been then, once she'd rejected that he would ask you like a second choice.

Once again you found yourself completely distraught for the second time, for the same man in only two days.

You walked home alone. Mood completely sour and expression dark. Fishing your keys out as you stood in front of your door you noticed your phone. Unlocking it you were unsurprised to find that there were no messages. Either Rafayel hadn't noticed you were gone yet, or he just didn't care. You shut it off and opened the door. Silence greeted you, just as it always did.

"I'm tired of being alone". You say out loud to no one. "I don't want to be in love with someone who doesn't even see me anymore". You cry sinking to the floor and sobbing again. You don't know how long you sit with your back to the front door crying. Your thoughts are jarred when the doorbell rings. You say nothing and listen. The bell goes off again two and then three more times.

Rafayel's soft voice comes from the other side. "Why did you leave without saying anything to me? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick in the first place. I was worried". He says and the concern in his tone irritates you. You stand up and yank the door open.

"Were you actually worried? How long did it even take you to notice I was gone??? Did you even look for me? Why did you ignore me almost the entire time I was there? Am I just a doormat to you? Am I supposed to act grateful any time you decide to toss me even a SECOND of your precious time"? You hurl all your pent up frustrations at him as more tears slip down your face.

Rafayel frowns and you can see him getting angry but you cut him off. "I'm tired Rafayel, I'm not a puppy that will keep running back to you every time you call my name. I will not be grateful just because you remember that I exist. I can't do this anymore. Loving you hurts to much and I just can't take it. It's killing me inside". You try to wipe your tears away.

"I never asked you to love me. I told you she was important to me a long time ago. It was your stupid choice to fall in love with me knowing all that". He spots back at you angry now. Not since your days in middle school when you first met has Rafayel spoken to you this way.

"You think she'll come to love you back?!? Open your eyes and look you stupid ass! She's in love with someone else too! She won't choose you"! You slam the door in his face before he can respond and run to your room and throw yourself into your bed. You sob yourself to sleep and wish that you had never met Rafayel. He's finally driven you into that dark place you'd tried so hard to avoid.

In the days that pass you feel numb to the world. Two weeks have gone by and not a single message or call from him. Not that you were expecting any or wanted any. The last message was from him and one of the silly stickers he liked to use.

If your heart wasn't broken and you weren't trying to recover from the severe emotional beating you'd taken, you might care that your phone was so silent for the first time that you could remember.

Several times you'd opened your contacts and went to trash all his messages and then block and delete his number all together. You just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Maybe in a few more days. You kept telling yourself that over and over again. You were caught in this vicious cycle. Wanting to move on and finally free yourself from him altogether and being unable to do just that.

You had adjusted to your life without Rafayel in it. A few times you'd seen his writing a message bubble pop up in your conversations but he never sent anything. You still didn't care.

Two months had gone by and nothing. Once Thomas had reached out to you asking why you hadn't been to the gallery recently but you didn't answer that message either. Under different circumstances you might have felt guilty leaving him on read.

After work that day you decided to change your pace for the first time in weeks. You went to the coffee shop you used to frequent. The Cafe style had always been cute to you and the chairs were so comfortable. Just as you put your hand on the door you noticed a familiar figure in your favorite chair.

Rafayel was slouched in the chair, completely unlike him. His wavy purple hair was messy and ot looked like he was neglecting his sleep. Badly at that, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by. His head was perched on his hand and he was tapping the arm of the chair.

As if sensing your gaze he looked up. His eyes went wide and he immediately stood up and took a step in your direction. You let go of the door handle and stepped back blending into the people walking as you hurriedly left. The moment your eyes met you felt a twinge in your heart. You weren't ready to see him again.

The next day at work your mood was positively black, as if a heavy thunderstorm was hanging over your head. Everyone steered clear of you. Only coming to speak to you when absolutely necessary.

The day passed by slowly and you paid little attention to anything around you. By the time you noticed that it was quiet everyone had already gone home. You packed your things up slowly and were getting ready to leave when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. There was a strange energy in the room and your senses screamed danger at you.

Just then a strange screech echoed in the room and something hit you out of nowhere. You flew up into the air and across the room just as alarm bells went off in the building. Metaflux! Your alarmed brain screamed at you through the pain as you were crumpled on the floor where you'd fallen. A Wanderer was inside the room with you and you had no way to defend yourself.

Sheer panic overtook you ss you lifted your head and looked behind you at the horrible monster bearing down at you. That was when the tremors started and you screamed as it's blade bore down on you.

Just as it was about to strike you a gunshot rang out. The monster was knocked sideways and it's blade swung off course. Cutting the desk in two, instead of you. The creature screeched as a flaming dagger sunk into its arm. Rafayel had showed you his Evol many times before. You knew that dagger even at a glance.

The screen around you changed suddenly and then you weren't in your office building. "Protofield"! A female voice called out. Finally you could see Rafayel and her. He called your name and tried to come to you but was held back by the group of Wanderers.

"Just stay put we'll rescue you"! She called tone serious. You couldn't exactly move. Pain and fear had you rooted to the ground. You'd read about protofields before but lacking the skills, you'd never been in one.

Gunshots, screeches, grunts, and communication between the pair sounded all around as they fought the Wanderers off. Just as quickly as it had appeared the protofield vanished. The last Wanderer seeming to have been destroyed.

The two made their way over to you, picking across the damaged desks and scattered paper. Rafayel knelt next to you. Assessing your injuries as she made a call on her watch. Relaying the situation back to the Association as well as medical support.

You hadn't realized it yet, but your breaths were coming in short gasps and you were starting to feel dizzy.

That was when the floor started shaking again. This time the tremors were violent. Rafayel glanced around as he stood up trying to hold his footing. "Earthquake"? He asked glancing at he watch. She shook her head as Rafayel looked around some more.

Only you realized where the tremors were coming from. You'd never told Rafayel you had any Evol at all. He'd believed you when you said you were born without one and had never developed one after the Wanderers first appeared.

The shaking got worse and cracks appeared in the windows as it seemed like the whole building was moving. "Danger"! You managed to gasp out feeling like your energy was being sucked out of your body. You lay on the ground feeling dizzy and nauseous. The windows busted out, sending glass straight to the ground ten floors below.

Rafayel took as step towards you just as a violent shudder went through the building and the floor gave way beneath you. Then you were falling. You tried to scream as you fell. Above you Rafayel was falling too. Seeming to have jumped through the hole after you. Groaning metal and breaking glass was all that you could hear before you blacked out and then silence. Nothing but silence.

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

Three months later

Rafayel sat at your bedside. He was usually here at this time of day. It was part of his routine now. He'd gotten used to the beeps of the machines in your hospital room. He'd thought back again and again. The Dr's had determined the earthquake like tremors had come from you. When you had panicked your body's natural instinct to protect itself forced your Evol out of control.

The result had collapsed the building you'd worked in. Thankfully everyone else had gone home for the day. His injuries were nothing compared to yours. Bumps, scrapes, and bruises. He hadn't even needed to be checked into the hospital.

You on the other hand, the list was long and scary. Broken ribs, a punctured lung, skull fractures, a dislocated arm, broken leg, the list went on. He had tried not to read all of it.

The Dr's had treated all your physical injuries and you'd had to under go three different surgeries. The skull fractures had caused the most concern for them. A concussion was the least of your problems.

Right now you were comatose. Your body had shut down all necessary functions to try and repair the damage. The extent of damage to your head had been undetermined as long as you remained asleep.

Rafayel looked at you again, glad most of the bandages were gone now. Beeing wrapped in gauze nearly from head to toe was hard to look at. He took your hand again, careful not to disturb the IV.

"Hurry and wake up, I'll even let you yell at me. I don't mind anymore. You can be mad all you want. Just don't sleep anymore. Please". His voice was a weak whisper as he rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand.

For the first time your hand twitched in his and he looked up sharply at your face. He called your name and the heart monitor picked up your increased hear rate immediately.

He waited anxiously with baited breath and then after what seemed like hours your eyes fluttered open. He leaned over and pressed the call button on your bed after informing the nurse you were awake he turned his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened. You were right. I acted like a jerk, and I didn't treat you very well. I knew for a while that my feelings wouldn't be returned. It's not like she didn't tell me about Xavier before. I just didn't want to listen. If you'll just forgive me, I don't need anything else. " Rafayel said in a rush. Spewing everything out that had crossed his mind in the last three months.

Confusion had knit your brows together. You were looking at him with an odd expression. The door opened as the Dr came in just as you started speaking in a raspy voice. Your words had his heart sinking to the floor.

"Who are you?"

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

Uwahhhhhh I just realized how long this was editing and proofreading 😵‍💫😵‍💫

I really do torture myself, but then again, short stories aren't very common for me. Oh, well.

I do hope you liked this one. It's a no happy end one. Unless you want to pick it up from my ending and make it happy.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lnds #lnds mc #lnds xavier #love and deepspace xavier #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #angst #angsty #angst with a sad ending #@potatosugar #request fic #request prompts #requested

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cleake · 11 months

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heyy i love your blog the fics are so cute!!! i wanted to kindly ask you if you could do a fic with neville? i love the way you portray him in your stories. usually others just write him off as sme shy weak boy but you portray him in such a special way, like yes he is shy but theres more to him than just loving plants and being inroverted, and i respect you so much for it. i was wonderng if you could do a big headcanon or fic centering around neville having a crush on the reader or him being the reader's boyfriend? i just miss him sm :(

Hello, dear. Your words made me feel very happy and appreciated, thank you very much. I would love to write more about Neville, he’s a very interesting character. So I’m back from the dead and my multiple months break from writing to give you some of this sweet boy. Thank you again, you’re wonderful <3

Warning: English is not my first language, please excuse any mistakes

Neville Longbottom having a crush on you

-Neville felt like an outcast. He felt that he didn’t fit in with how he was, how he looked, how he behaved, or what he was interested in. He had bad experiences with trying to make friends, let alone trying to find someone that would be special to him. He was rejected, laughed at, and ignored by his peers and he stopped trying to talk to others. He still wanted to have friends, people to like him and respect him but he just feels that won’t happen, that he was a lost cause. So he went on through the years in Hogwarts being only a background character, nothing important.

-Then you showed up. And it was amazing for him. You were amazing.

-When Neville noticed you and you noticed him it felt like something finally clicked, that something finally happened in his life, that he wasn’t alone anymore. He felt like a person, someone with will and importance. You made yourself memorable to him by just being a good person, by being a friend and someone who didn’t see him as a joke. He was overjoyed. He felt like he had something that could make people like him. You made him feel like he was nice, like he was good and worth everything wonderful. He finally had a friend.

-But after some time of you being friends, of you two talking about your interests without any judgment, you making gifts to each other, you making efforts for each other, spending your time together, Neville had a realization to make. He loved you, he liked you and he wanted to be the reason you keep on smiling. He was terrified at the beginning. He was scared and felt so alone with that thought and feeling of loving you. This changed how he saw your relationship and he felt like that was a bad thing. He started to see you in a different light and it made him feel guilty. He started to notice the way you smiled, the way you looked at him, the way you laughed, the way your hair fell around your face, the way you stood, the way your hands touched things, the way your eyes looked so peaceful when you read or looked at something important. Like him. It was such a wonderful thing to witness your beauty in the simplest things, he loved it. But it made him feel so bad for thinking that way, you’re friends. You’re friends. Nothing more. And maybe he had to accept that fact, maybe he shouldn’t look at you in that way. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve to do that.

-Neville was so conflicted with his feelings and thoughts toward you, his days were filled with admiring you quietly, punishing himself for doing that, and then feeling alone and powerless. His mind was focused on you, he was thinking about you. And it wasn’t only the administration, he thought about you and how you’d react to him having those feelings about you, he thought about how he was disrespectful for doing such things. He was sure you’d be angry, upset, sad, embarrassed, disgusted, disappointed if you found out. He was so scared. But he loved you so much. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of you, when you were near when you complimented him, praised him, noticed him. He loved you. And there was no way in denying it.

-He felt so much love and appreciation for you, he just wanted to cherish you forever, treat you like a god, worship you. He knew he was a bit dramatic in his feelings but he loved you so much he couldn’t help it. He saw you as something pure, wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous, and enchanting, he had to feel this way. He had to give you all the stars in the sky, all the pearls in the ocean, all the sunsets and sunrises. He knew you deserved it. But he didn’t know if he deserved you. And it made him feel miserable in his loving you. He didn’t know what to do.

-But then you showed something that was close to showing romantic feelings toward him as well and Neville got so excited and so happy, but at the same time so scared and nervous. He wanted to tell you how he loved you, he wanted to scream it, he wanted it to pour out of him so you could see it, he wanted to give you his heart. He wanted to say it and it ached him to death. He wanted to let you know. He was so enchanted by the thought of telling you that he got brave enough to tell you, not even thinking if you agreed or not, if you thought of him as weird and embarrassing. He got to tell you.

-One day he run up to you, his eyes wide, his lips parted, his breath coming out heavily from the emotion and adrenaline. He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking at you with a glimpse of something in his eyes that you just caught from time to time. Now it was directed at you and it was visible, he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. He had to take a moment before he could speak. He didn’t care if anyone was close to seeing, he didn’t care if people were laughing at his emotions, he was here with you and that only made him feel safe. After a moment of him trying to find his words, opening and closing his mouth in hesitation and fear of saying something wrong he finally choked it out.

“I love you.”

It was quiet, shaky, and uncertain but it was said. He said it to you and he was worried. How will you respond? Will you be disgusted like he always imagined? He just realized what he had done to your friendship and that it won’t be the same after this. All that could save this moment was your response. And he was desperate for it.

-He loved you and he loved that you loved him. And it made him the happiest and the most grateful he ever was. He was ready to give you himself and his heart and you wanted it. That was the most beautiful thing to him. He was always overjoyed with you and you were a miracle to him that he’d protect and love to the end of his existence. He was ready to feel loved and appreciated, to be someone’s “one and only”, to be their heart and soul. And he always wanted it to be you.

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cookiesupplier · 4 months

Text

Drain the blood out from your veins (nsfw)

pairing: Ricky Olson x Fem!Reader (Chris' Sister)

Summary: Vampire Ricky, back from tour with the band, continues his sexual relationship with Chris' little sister without her brother knowing.

cw: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, established relationship, Dom/Sub leanings, blood, masturbation, vaginal fingering.

author note: unbetaed, readers beware lol, bit of an anon request so I hope you enjoy!

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @faceless-mirror

Tags are open for future fics, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my general list.

Ricky was strung out, and he just wanted to go home, sink his teeth into a feeder and gorge his fill. Living off donated blood bags while they were on tour was the most disgusting, and vile feeling in the entire damn world. The sacrifices he made for Chris. Sometimes, if he was lucky when he could, he could pull up one of the feeder chat rooms for the town they were in on an off-day and see if anyone was offering, with a non-disclosure agreement of course. It wasn’t that their fans didn’t know he was a vampire, they did, and they were very aware, but it was highly discouraged for any of them to throw themselves at him offering up their blood.

One too many times had he gotten vials of blood sent in the mail from devoted fans, offering him a taste in hopes that he might want to come and drink from them, personally. So it was made known that he wouldn’t. It was ridiculous really, the worst ones, the blood was turned and rotted by the time it got to him, and at best they remembered to preserve it for transport in the vial, and he knew, it would taste like nothing but the chemicals that had been used to do so if he even tasted a drop. He didn’t, why would he? That kind of obsession was not something he was ever going to touch.

Anyone he drank from that was not a dedicated personal feeder at home, signed a NDA.

There was one exception to the rule for Rick. One person he’d fed from in the past that was neither technically a personal feeder nor he had ever asked to sign an NDA.

He knew she wouldn’t say anything. He knew she wouldn’t tell a soul.

Her neck would be on the line as much as his, and not because of the fans, but because of her brother.

Y/N was Chris’ little sister.

Admitted, Chris would forgive her, he’d never forgive Rick. There was no way in hell that he’d forgive Rick for touching his little sister.

Half-sister technically, but sister just the same, and Ricky, couldn’t get her out of his system, and it would seem, she was no better with the way her eyes had been on him the moment he’d entered the bar with her brother, but they’d switched quickly over to Chris the moment he’d called y/n, a smile immediately flashing across her features for her brother as she ran over and threw herself into his arms. She’d not seen him in weeks, Ricky didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on him around his side as she hugged her brother.

They’d just gotten home from another stint on tour, and they would be home for a little bit, planning to work on some more music, and Ricky himself was strained from living of months off of blood bags. Sure, it might have been weeks since they’d been home, but months on tours, and barely a good bite here and there if he was lucky? He had thought about hiring a personal feeder for long tours, but the last time he tried, it give an intensely wrong impression, and she’d just gotten so attached when he got home.

He didn’t want that.

Especially when, when he was at home, he had other preferences in mind.

Ricky knew he shouldn’t, but Y/N was always on his mind.. Chris would kill him if he knew about the way he thought about his little sister, the things he thought about her.

He was not, well, there had been a time when he was not the most upstanding vampire there was. Chris wanting him to stay away from his little sister wasn’t without reason.. But did he listen? No.

Did she listen? No.

He did try to stay away from her at the bar, at least, he did try. Knowing that Chris was out the front with the other guys however, laughing, talking, with the chatter of all the other people the only noise that was keeping them hidden, it was just too tempting.. What she looked at him across the room while Chris was busy, her eyes meeting right before she slipped away, he smirked..

Following after a moment.. Throwing back his drink, before slipping right into the women’s bathroom, flicking the lock behind him.. It was easy to tell she was the only one in there, only one heartbeat.. Only one, hers.

Y/N was washing her hands in the basin, facing the mirror and Ricky’s already stormy blue eyes darkened at the sight of her in the reflection, moving behind her in a second, his arms either side of her on the counter, framing her in.

“Did you do what you were told?”

Breathing in her scent up the side of her neck slowly, god, she smelled divine, but that wasn’t the scent that he wanted just yet..

“Yes, Daddy.”

Smirking.. He’d given her very specific instructions of what she was supposed to do before she was to come tonight.. Admittedly, it was supposed to be for a treat for after, but he was impatient, and she was just being so alluring tonight, how could he resist. Not to mention, the mere thought of finding out if she’d behaved and actually done what he told her to, well, it was far too tempting.

“Mmmmm, I don’t know.. Maybe I should find out for myself.. What do you think, BabyGirl.. Should I?”

One of his hands was running up the insides of her legs, his fingers stroking up the bare skin of her thigh, she got that part right to start with,

“No tights, good girl.”

His voice a rasp as he smirked when he saw her face flush warm in the mirror, then as her fingers press harder to the counter in front of her, feeling the way she tried so hard not to squirm but her hips still shifted back against him ever so slightly. Tsking, he tilted his head forward to nip at the side of her neck with his blunt human teeth,

“Stay still.”

A whimper escaped her as his hand continued to travel up.. Until he came to the juncture of her thighs, and his fingers brushed along the lips of her pussy.. She was so wet already and she she whimpered when he denied her more, his hand slipping out from under her dress and lifting to lick the arousal from the very tips of his fingers.. A whine escaped her throat as she watched him in the reflection..

“Such a good girl.. How many did you have up there before you came inside?”

He told her.. She was to finger herself in the car before coming in, but not to cum, if she did, she would be allowed to again all night, and he wouldn’t touch her again, not once, before the next tour.. One orgasm for the price of many? That would be a no-brainer..

“Three, Daddy, please.. I’ll do anything you want. I need to cum so bad.”

Her thighs pressed together and he grinned at her in the reflection.

“Anything?”

She nodded eagerly to him.. He stepped back and patted the counter, up on the counter, face me.. All too eager, she didn’t even need to question him before she was hitching up her dress around her hips and was pulling her tiny frame up onto the counter. How she was Chris’ sister was beyond him, her miniature to Chris’ giant, but she was just a perfect size for Rick.. and fuck if he got his fill every time.

As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, and damn did he want to, it was too messy a clean up, and getting caught by Chris because y/n had his cum dripping down her thigh in the middle of the bar, really wasn’t on his agenda tonight.. That could wait until he got her back to her his apartment and he could take her apart properly. Have her come apart screaming on his cock.. He had another hunger to satisfy now.

Down on his knees before her, her his hands spreading her thighs wide, glancing up to her,

“You don’t cum unless I give you permission, and after I’ve had plenty to drink, understand?”

A whimper escaped her, but she nodded quickly, she knew what was coming, and it wasn’t the bite that was going to be the hard part ti endure, Ricky always like to push her right to the very edge of pleasure and pain.. That was the best part between them, while he fed.. Feeling her body shake under the assault of his fingers, his cock.. Whatever he was doing to her at the time..

His tongue traced up along the skin of her groin of her femoral artery, his favourite place to drink, and the most covert.. Who thought to look for bite marks there. Not to mention, Chris would notice if his sister suddenly started walking around with neck scarves all the time. As his fangs sank into her flesh, her blood pooling delicately onto his tongue, he was careful how he drank, clean, his thumb was rubbing over her clit, drawing a moan from her as two of his fingers pressed into her cunt.. Just as she had been earlier.

Oh, her blood was like pure nirvana on his tongue, she was always absolute perfection, nothing tasted like y/n.. Not her blood, or her pretty perfect pussy. He didn’t know which he liked better if he was being truthful, he could spend all day between her legs in one manner or another, his face covered in her, and he would be a happy man.. Already very dead, but a happy, happy man.

His fingers pumped inside of her as his thumb worked circles over the numb of her clit as her warm blood ran down his throat with each swallow he took. His tongue swirled at her skin with each pull from her vein and fuck.. but then he flicked at the sensitive nerves of her clit a bit hard when she started to squirm with a groan. Lifting his mouth from her skin with a gasp,

“Y/N,”

His voice holding a commanding rasp, looking down at him, her eyes met his with a whimper, her thighs shaking as she held them wide for him,

“You are being such a good girl. Now stay still. I’ve almost had my fill.”

He could have let her cum then, he could have, but he wanted to see how much longer she could last, he loved watching to see how far he could push her, see her walk to the very edge until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Her thighs pushed a little wider as she pushed herself to satisfy him, there we go, he knew she could do it, such a good girl. A lick of his tongue over the bite before his mouth returned to her beautiful silken skin and drew another pull of her blood. This time it earned a moan from her, he savoured not only the taste of her as her blood pulsed hot, running down his throat so perfectly, but the way she reached for him next.. Her fingers threading into his hair, pressing her fingertips against his scalp as she whimpered.

“Daddy, Daddy, please, I need to cum.”

She was close, so close, he could feel her thighs trembling as she fought to hold them,

“Please!”

The way she pleaded was utter perfection and with a last flick of his tongue, pressing it down hard enough to put pressure on the puncture to stem the flow of blood and seal the wound. Then as he stood up between her legs, his fingers that were buried deep in her cunt, curled to rub at her g-spot as he flicked at her clit as his lips came to hers, fangs scraping at her lips as she moaned,

“Cum for me BabyGirl, cum for Daddy like a good girl.”

All she needed was that little push over the edge, and she was falling. Her shriek as she orgasm smothered by his kiss, no, no they couldn’t let anyone outside here, No Chris, not any of the band, or the crew.. They might come find out what was happening, and find the locked door.. Best they didn’t investigate. Kissing her while he fucked her with his fingers through her orgasm, her whole body trembling with delight as she grasped onto him, panting against him as she did… he grinned when he finally started to hear her heartbeat slowly come down, her eyes starting to come back into focus..

“I’ve missed being able to make you fucking scream properly.”

If Chris killed him when he found out, so be it.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

#ricky olson #ricky horror olson #ricky olson smut #miw #miw smut #motionless in white #motionless in white smut #miw fanfic #ricky olson fanfic #fanfiction #ricky olson x reader #vampire #request fic #cw: blood

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Note

you write papí pascal so well i absolutely adore your writing! any chance there could be a continuation of Age Gap while they’re at the red carpet? thats all i’ve got feel free to do what you want with it! love ya <3 - 🪐

a/n: Thank you! And I did not expect some of you to request a part 2 hahahha but here you go, lovelies 💕 side note, look at how proud he looks in the gif right before he said "cool slutty daddy" - i love him

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

first part || Masterlist

------

It made you sick to your core -- your nerves. Maybe that's a good sign, maybe that meant you're taking this seriously.

So you're nervous, as you should be! You're dating the world's biggest star right now, and it just so happens that he's 20 years older than you.

No big deal, right? You'll get through it, right?

You tried to smile at yourself in the mirror and ended up grunting in stress.

The red carpet event was tonight, and you're already in the hotel room Pedro's team had booked for the two of you to get ready in. You didn't even think you'd have his team help you get ready, you thought you'd just get ready at home and leave with him, but nope!

This must be how Mia Thermopolis felt, you thought.

"Hey Y/N, you ready?"

You looked at Pedro's stylist, "Yes! What do I have to do?"

She chuckled, "Nothing, honey. Just sit tight. We'll do the work."

Behind her, 3 other people followed. They brought in the outfit you were going to wear, a huge makeup box, and what you assumed to be a few options for shoes.

They were quick, of course, they're professionals. By the time Pedro got to the hotel room after a press conference, you were already in the outfit, and his stylists were picking out the right shoes for you.

"Dios mío..." Pedro whispered to himself, "You look... fucking beautiful, cariño."

You smiled back at him, "Thank you, Pedrito."

"Pedrito?" He raised his brows suggestively, "Oh I like this new nickname."

Pedro made his way to smother you in kisses and hugs, but his team had pulled him away because he, too, had to get ready. "I'll be with you soon, amor!"

"You two are too cute." One of his stylists commented.

"He's too cheesy sometimes."

"I can hear you!"

-----

You were holding Pedro's hand for the entire ride to the red carpet. It wasn't long, but it felt like ages.

"Don't worry, you'll do great." He smiled, trying to reassure you.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. You didn't want to make the red carpet to be about you, it was the premiere of one of the biggest, most famous video game adaptations of all time. But at the same time, you felt a little relieved knowing that maybe - just maybe - the media might focus on the series instead of you.

"You ready, cariño?" He asked before he opened the door, making sure you were okay.

Nodding your head, Pedro exited the car and circled around to your side of the door. He had made you practice letting him open the door for you every single time.

You could hear the screams of fans, the cameras flashing, everyone was incredibly happy to see him.

Just put on a smile. You're here for Pedro.

Pedro opened the door for you, peeking his head to make sure you're okay one last time before offering you his hand. You took his hand and slowly got out of the car, keeping a friendly smile.

"You're doing great." Pedro kissed your temple as you both made your way further into the red carpet, hand in hand.

Just. Breathe.

"Pedro, over here!" You keep hearing paparazzi scream. Pedro's team had warned you and basically trained you on how and where to pose, but Pedro was leading both of you in such an amazing way that you had no problem doing it at all.

Of course, there were times where Pedro had to take solo pictures, so you'd stand on the side, watching as your lover really took control of the crowd.

"Y/N!"

You heard a familiar voice. Bella had a beaming smile on her face as she raced towards you and gave you a bear hug. "Pedro told me you'd be here and I'm so glad you are!"

You met Bella before when you'd visit Pedro at their shooting sites. She's very kind towards you -- the entire crew was, which surprised you because well.. again, the age gap thing doesn't usually sit well with everyone.

"You look amazing!" You complimented her, "And it's been a while, how are you?"

"It's been good," She nodded, "Tiring, but good. How about you- Wait, is this the first time you two are going out in public together?"

"Yeah," You laughed nervously, "I'm a nervous wreck, if you can't tell."

Bella laughed, "You're doing fineee, besides, you've got nothing to worry about. I'm sure Pedro has it all under control."

You nodded, "I know, but I don't want him carrying all the weight, you know? I don't want to be a burden."

"Nah, you're definitely not. I'm telling you, he doesn't stop talking about you when we were on set."

Pedro finished his session and went to hug Bella, "I hope you girls aren't talking about me."

"Of course not, we've got better things to talk about than you, old man." She teased, "Anyway, catch you guys later."

You held onto Pedro's arm as he guided you through the red carpet again. It was time for what you were most nervous about -- interviews.

Given, you probably won't be in a lot of them, but some of them were bound to ask about you. Speak of the devil.

"So, I see you brought in a plus one," One of the interviewers who's known Pedro for a while teased, "Can we meet your special someone? Can we introduce you two as a couple now?"

Pedro laughed and brought you closer, "This is Y/N, the love of my life, and.. we've been in love for about 2 years, actually."

"2 years?!" He gasped, "How are we only hearing about you now??"

Pedro rubbed circles on your back, comforting you in any way he could.

"I'm a bit shy." You smiled, "He's actually been begging me to come with him to events for a while but I've always refused."

"Honey, it's about time you showed up." He said, "Have you seen his fans? They're about to eat him all up."

"That's what I said!"

"And Mr. Pascal, sir, what is with all this daddy content you're promoting when you have a lover??" The interviewer tsk-ed.

You laughed, "It's alright, I don't mind sharing."

"What?" Pedro asked, almost in a whine.

"Well you heard it here first, people. Pedro Pascal is taken, and I am here for the cute couple! You two look amazing."

-----

It was more fun than you expected, you had to be honest. You put your phone on silent for the entire night because you were afraid of what the internet would say, but that was a mistake because you realized you'd need to deal with it the next morning.

"Morning, cariño." Pedro mumbled, his arm rubbing circles on your naked back.

"Good morning," You kissed his chest and sighed, "I don't want to check my phone."

"Then don't." He pulled you closer to him, "Who cares what the world thinks?"

Sighing loudly, you decided that he was right. Who cares? All that matters is that you're happy, and he's happy. "Yeah, you're right. Fuck it."

He smiled lazily and moved to be on top of you, "Good. Now relax and let me reward you for doing so good last night. You were amazing, cariño. So good for me."

"Mm, I think you've shown me enough last night."

He gasped. "Nonsense. You can never get enough of me. You know it."

------

a/n: ....should i just write smut on this account? I swear, I have a separate account for a reason but now I kinda just want to smush it all together......

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 9 months

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omg yES I'd love a part two to the Captain Rex headcanons with an anxious reader with the relationship part since you offered! ;u; I loved the first part so much (and that you included more from the 501st!) tytytyty 💙💙💙

Aw anon I'm so glad! Thank you for coming back as well, and continuing to fuel my feelings for our fine captain. 💙

Warnings and Information: Largely the same as part one. Undescribed fem!Reader with unspecified anxiety/anxious tendencies. Lots of fluff and other good feelings, primarily. Follows bullet point format. No Mando'a used this time. Reader is given different "nicknames" from the Clones to by-pass the use of a name in some cases.

Word count: 2,458

The set-up

The first time he goes to ask you if you'd like to grab some caf together, or go check out that little corner store not too far from the base by speederbike that one of your coworkers mentioned to you in passing, Rex puts in the effort to clean up his armor a bit. Now he doesn't go so far as to polish and repaint all the parts, but he doesn't want to look fresh off a battlefield either where he's caked in mud and dirt and ash. He wants to show you he cares by looking nice when he goes to lay out his offer. You're past the probationary period following your transfer, and he thinks it'd be nice to sort of celebrate that.

You're in your jumpsuit, cheerfully strutting around the hangar to complete the necessary work a little earlier than usual this morning when he first sees you. "Good morning, Captain Rex!" You're all bright-eyed and sunny smiles for so early in the day. Must be in a really good mood now that you feel the weight that comes with being fresh blood in the "office" has been lifted from your shoulders. Can breathe a little easier when there are less eyes scrutinizing your every move. "You're in a good mood today." Rex replies, careful to keep the right balance of being personable and professional within earshot of other civilian staff, as always, "Is there a special reason?" Your grin and your body language tells him everything he needs to know.

"Oh, no reason. Reasons, on the other hand…" you suggest, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from giggling within earshot of those same workers that you've seen him eyeing out of caution. You can afford to be a little braver now, but you should still be cautious. Rex smiles, delighted to hear and see that you're not feeling quite so anxious as you once were. You still have your nervous, self-soothing quirks like fiddling with the wrist-strap of your time device whenever you wear one, or twirling a stylus between your nimble fingers or rocking softly on the balls of your feet. Rex doesn't see you utilize them quite as often these days now that you're off probation, and it makes him feel so much better to see you more relaxed and comfortable here.

He still asks his brothers to keep an eye on you or give you any help in his stead if he senses you becoming overly anxious about anything. Dogma still offers to take any paperwork down to General Skywalker for you (and is certain to remember to knock, now). Fives and Echo still hang out around your desk and your workspace whenever they get the chance. Tup drops by with small snacks or drinks from the mess if you can't spare a moment to get away from your work (and he'll never say no to an offer to help fix up his hair, either). Kix has been by a few times to come sit with you when the anxiety gets really bad, coaching you through your grounding exercises, or acting as a GAR medic (who has authority to treat civilian staff in non-emergency situations) he can administer something to take the edge off. And Jesse has made plausible excuses for you to your boss's face if you've needed to step away and collect yourself, if it's really severe.

They all figure if the captain likes you, and on occasion asks them to check in with you for his "peace of mind" ("Captain Rex has a cruuuuush~" "Hardcase stop before you get yourself in troub-" "It's not just the Captain, Fives. She does too.") they shouldn't be afraid to cement their friendships with you anymore.

“Oh, by the way, Captain,” you call over your shoulder as you walk off to where you’d been summoned, “your armor looks very nice today.” Unfortunately, you were called away to take care of something just as he plucks up his nerve to ask if you’d like to grab a cup of caf with him before the day really gears up, but he doesn’t have to wait much longer for another opportunity.

The first "date"

It comes as a rather impromptu and unofficial thing, with one of the mechanics shouting across the hangar as he wraps up his welding kit that the repairs have been finished on a LAAT that had taken a heavy beating. "Captain! Gunship's good to go!" These guys are good. You get to the gunship before Rex does, admiring the handiwork of the repairmen in awe. "Wow… almost looks brand new, doesn't it?" He agrees with a chuckle, elbow to elbow with you. "What's it like to fly in one of these?" you ask, turning to him with earnest curiosity. It surprises him. "Weren't you transferred to the base in one of these?"

You shake your head, the datapad cradled a little tighter against your chest. "No, I got here by passenger shuttle."

Stay here, he tells you, he has an idea. He just needs to go find where Hawk is.

Hawk takes little time to get kitted-up in order to go take the LAAT for a test flight. Rex boards the gunship first, taking hold of one of the handles overhead before offering a hand out to you to help you up.

You regard the offered hand with mild apprehension, unclear if this is even allowed. "A-are you certain I can be up there? I'm just a civilian. I don't know that I can-" A simple smile is all he needs to calm you, quell your fraying nerves. “I’ll think of some clever excuse if anyone asks.” Rex promises you with one of his charming smiles and playful lift of his brow. He allows you to stand beside him so you feel more secure, showing you where best to grip the support handles as Hawk gears everything up. “Best hold on,” he warns you before you’d feel that lurch in your stomach as the ground falls away fast.

He tells Hawk to take it pretty easy, just a few test laps around the base and not too fast, and Rex keeps his eye on you as Hawk climbs the gunship high enough for his liking. Any sign from you that this was getting to be too much, and he would call it off. But you’re all giddy smiles and awed murmurings as you bravely peek at the ground far below from time to time.

“Beginning aerial test laps, Captain. I promise to go easy, ma’am!” Hawk calls back to the pair of you, beginning to maneuver and swing the gunship out to the right, making you bump hips with the Captain, unprepared to brace for the movement with your legs in addition to your upper body. You go to apologize, but he puts his hand on your opposite hip without a word (at first) to hold you a little closer to him to help you feel secure and steady. Rex apologizes to you for not warning you about the nature of the turns. “Flown in these things more times than I can count; it’s all just second nature to me.” You suppose that makes a lot of sense, surely a little flushed in the face, being so close. On the next turn, you know to anticipate it this time, but you still lean pretty heavily against him.

What happens next however is absolutely not your fault. Hawk purposefully takes a much sharper turn as he completes one of his last laps, and with the centrifugal force you’re really pushed up against Captain Rex, practically chest to chest with him now, and then laughs apologetically from the cockpit. “Whoops, sorry sweetheart! Got a little carried away on that one. You alright?” You’re fine, you answer just loud enough for Hawk to hear, finding yourself still so close against Rex, his hand still on your hip to hold you steady. You and Rex look at each other for one long moment, almost missing what Hawk says about taking you in for a landing, feeling a little lost in the other’s eye…

Once you’re back on the ground, you thank Hawk for letting you come along on the test flight for the repaired LAAT. “Oh, you’re welcome! I hope it was nice despite that one turn. Just got a little ahead of myself and forgot you’re not used to those kinds of ships.” You promise it’s okay, and thank him again. You should probably get back to work now, you explain, a little color in your cheeks after smiling at Rex and bidding him goodbye next.

He makes no mention of the transfer-smear of lip product found on his Captain’s face, one that looks an awful lot like the color you’re wearing this morning, until he’s certain you’re out of earshot. “That’s a nice color on you, Captain.” Rex takes a moment to clean his cheek of the evidence, a gentle pout playing across his features, his broad nose creasing as he responds to Hawk’s compliment. “You swung too wide on that last turn before we landed…”

As partners

It’s not long after that that things kick off. Secretly. There’s no official code or regulation against this (you’d know: Echo and Dogma checked for one extensively, separately and together) relationship taking place, but you’re going to keep it on the down-low for the most part. Rex has a professional image to maintain as a captain of the GAR, and you risk being transferred out should any of your higher-ups feel this partnership of sorts comes as a hindrance or serious detriment to your job as a civilian. (“Do you know how many want to be in your shoes? Do you have any idea just how sought-after this position is?” “A-A very good idea, actually. That’s why I’m here, sir. I promise, I’m not going to make any trouble.” (Oh how Fives and Jesse had wanted to give the civilian staff member you reported to a piece of their minds for talking to you like that.)) You and Rex find a way to make it work, with a little help from his brothers.

He visits you during work. Often as he can. Sometimes it's planned out in advance, where the two of you have lots of time alone. He makes sure that you're doing okay, and that you're taking care of yourself, of course, but primarily these opportunities to see you are just to spend time with you. Take his mind off of the war. Take your mind off of your job, or whatever troubles you. Sometimes it's discreet, spur of the moment little meetings in empty offices… or secluded corners his brothers have told him about.

"There's a blind spot in the cameras around here," Hardcase explains, unprompted, one afternoon over nutrimush in the mess hall, "You can get away with a lot of stuff right there behind the shelving." He's not sure if he's about to reprimand Hardcase as his Captain or to thank him as a brother for this insight for a long moment. "What do you mean by get away with a lot of stuff, 'Case?" There's quite a few options it turns out. Stash some contraband, (re)paint your armor without being bothered too much, or just… y'know. Have a nap? (Damn, okay, aside from whatever Hardcase means by contraband that sounds like a pretty great spot.) "Maybe I'll… check it out." Rex agrees with a simple shrug.

Oh and if he does, he has to be careful about a certain box on the shelves. Can't put empty snack wrappers back in it otherwise it'll attract ants again, Hardcase says he learned that one the hard way and it took a while to get it back under control just short of throwing away his whole collection of snacks. Two of them are welcome to just about anything they find in the box if Rex takes you there, but the energy drinks are off limits.

"Or just leave Hardcase five credits if you do take one." Echo calls from a little further down the table, pouring over some section of the regulation manual related to your job that you were having trouble understanding. (They used a lot of unnecessary and complicated words because it was translated into Basic from another galactic language.) "Fives and I do it all the time." A few more brothers confirm that they do the same since being let in on Hardcase's little secret. Dogma insists he does not. "I don't like these crazy energy drinks they come up with. 'Trotting Tauntaun' and 'Hyperspace Rush'? Makes me feel sick to my stomach and my heart race…" (It's probably all the caffeine, Kix calls back to him from Rex's left. Dogma might have a low tolerance for it and that's why he doesn't like it.)

This little nook within the hangar becomes the perfect place to decompress whenever Captain Rex notices you are looking more anxious than typical. One of his men has stashed away an old GAR-issue blanket that's stained with various smears of cobalt blue - 501st's Blue - but still plenty warm and comfortable to wrap up in. You can tell that it's Fives who added a little stack of flimsi scraps to write notes on the first time you come back here to this corner of the hangar with the Captain. Rex can see from a mile away that Kix is to thank for the healthier options within the box of Hardcase's snacks.

You're both not sure who scribbled your name along with his under the list of people who were "invited" here, but it makes you cry, in a happy way. To welcome their brother here would be one thing - all Clones had come up with secret, secluded spaces for themselves to have their privacy and establish stealthy boundaries for themselves and their well-being - but they were inviting you too. None of your other colleagues know about this sequestered space. They trusted you to keep their secrets. They liked you. Really liked you.

"To our Captain and his girl" the note begins, waiting for you both on top of the neatly folded blanket when Rex first helped you here, trying to help you settle your nerves after you were badly frightened by a speederbike backfiring outside the base as it whizzed past, "Welcome to our cozy little corner! We hope you like it here and trust that you'll keep it a better secret than General Skywalker and Senator Amidala being a "thing". Speaking of, figured it was time to let the loth-cat out of the bag now that you're both getting as serious as this war allows~. - The 501st"

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those fancy forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Part one] [Masterlist] [Reqests: OPEN]

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

Text

The Christmas Present

This fic will cover my Dates Keep Getting Interrupted square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. ❤️

Summary: Y/N is beginning to wonder just where she fits into Jensen's life. Is she expendable?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all fluff. A wee tiny bit of smut. Just a wisp of oral (f receiving) and unprotected PinV sex. Nothing really explicit. Pretty much a smidge of angst and mostly fluff.

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,599

A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one came from a lovely anon who asked this:

hi! how about an angsty “dates keep getting interrupted” with jensen? something along the lines of him being busy and just simply being swamped with work but reader feels like jensen might not be in love with them anymore.

I basically took that first idea in your request and ran with it sweetie! Hope you enjoy this one. It ran a bit fluffy, but I hope you like it.

The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89

Y/N inhaled deeply as she pulled the freshly made pumpkin pie out of the oven. She looked at it with pride; she’d made it from scratch because she knew it was Jensen’s favorite this time of year.

And he was finally coming home.

For the last month and a half he’d been working all the way across the country and in all that time, they’d been relegated to nothing but video calls and texting. When he took the job the week before Thanksgiving she’d been disappointed they wouldn’t get to spend the holiday together. But as Jensen had assured her, it was only a month of shooting, and he was only one, six hour flight away; they’d visit lots and he’d be home a good week or more before Christmas.

But the shoot had dragged on and on with an inexperienced director and a picky and demanding producer. Everything was so disorganized that Jensen had made it home only one time in those six weeks, and he’d been swamped with press the entire time, as well as trying to fit in meetings with his manager, agent, and another producer considering him for a different project. It meant that in his one day at home Y/N had him to herself for barely more than an hour, during which, he'd been completely, understandably, exhausted.

Four other trips home had been planned, complete with date nights Y/N put together that would allow them to go out together, but also stay in together a lot too. But all four times those trips and those dates had been canceled. Even a desperately planned skype dinner date had only lasted a half hour before one of the PAs came banging on Jensen's trailer to drag him away to help with some unforeseen dilemma on set.

Y/N was sick with missing him. She knew he missed her too, but lately she’d been wondering...just how much?

How hard was he really trying to get home? How important was she to him? Was she just a girlfriend he was saddled with, someone he was obligated to try and get home to see? Was she just a scheduling conflict - one of the smaller ones, easily brushed aside for something more important?

After their last canceled date, she'd even asked herself the question that terrified her...was he losing interest? After a year and three months of dating...was she still loving him while he had one foot out the door?

Her mind shied away from answering those questions. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers.

But two days ago he’d called her up to say he was finally going to be wrapped the following day, and he’d be home early Christmas morning. She’d seen his plane ticket and everything; it was going to be the best Christmas present she could get.

So she’d made his favorite pie in celebration.

As she set the pie on the rack to cool, she heard a notification bing, telling her she had a video call from Jensen. She felt knots form in her stomach, but decided he was probably just calling to say he was getting on the plane in a few hours.

He’d just text you for that, she thought, but she brushed the thought aside.

She sat down at her kitchen table, and clicked her mouse to answer, smiling as Jensen’s face appeared on her laptop screen.

“Hey.” She said, overly cheerful.

“Hey.” He said back, and she could hear the waver in his voice, but she ignored that too.

“How are you?” She asked.

His jaw clenched and she felt her stomach plummet further.

“I’m…not good…I…” His green eyes looked at her through the screen, regret etched deep into his verdant irises. “I’m so sorry, baby - “ he began, but Y/N cut him off with a cry of disappointment.

“No! No!” She denied loudly. “What the hell? You said you’re wrapped, you said -”

“I know, I know. But they’ve decided they need a shit ton of reshoots, there’s a bunch of stuff they said they didn’t like, and…” He trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N turned her face away from the camera as she nodded in heartbroken acceptance, trying to hide her eyes swimming in tears. “But…” she cleared her throat. “This is like the fifth time you’ve had to cancel, can’t they understand that? I mean, it’s Christmas. Why the hell do they need you to work on Christmas?” Her voice rose at the end, anger seeping through to fill in her cracked heart.

“I don’t know.” Jensen said with a shrug, and the gesture made her anger take a swift turn towards him. “It’s Hollywood, they don’t always give a shit about things like national holidays.”

“Well, they should!” She shouted. “I mean, what the hell? Do they think they own you? Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off?”

“Y/N -”

“Seriously, that’s basically what you’ve been telling me to do for the past six weeks, but you can't even tell them once?”

The muscle ticked in Jensen’s jaw again. “Y/N, I’ve spent the last day and a half doing nothing but trying to get them to listen to me, to agree to let me go for a day or two and then come back, but -”

“Wait!” Y/N cut him off. “You’ve known about this for a day and a half and you’re only telling me now?” Her voice was incensed and furious.

Jensen threw up his hands. “I was hoping I could get out of it, Y/N! I was…look, I’m sorry." His anger was obvious but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or not. "Don’t you think I’m disappointed too?”

“Are you?” Y/N asked before she could stop herself.

Jensen’s face grew suddenly calm. “What does that mean?” He asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing. It just means that it’s been six weeks, and so many canceled dates and plans, I mean…”

“Five weeks.” Jensen interjected as she paused for a breath.

Y/N scowled at him. “What?”

“It’s only been five weeks.”

Y/N clenched her teeth. “Oh well, excuse me! Then, I guess - who cares?"

Jensen was shaking his head. “No, look I just meant to say that I’m well aware of how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to see you, but…” He looked slightly defeated. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She smiled sadly and nodded at him. “Yeah, well, you should know. That’s uh…” She sniffed and wiped her fingers across her cheeks. “That’s sort of the problem.”

Jensen opened his mouth to say something, but when he hesitated, Y/N just gave him another broken smile.

“Merry Christmas.” She said softly before clicking off the call.

***

Y/N sat slumped on her couch with a half eaten pumpkin pie discarded on her coffee table. On the TV, Ebeneezer Scrooge was calling out Merry Christmas to everyone in the street below him, having realized the true meaning and value of Christmas. Y/N’s face was nothing but frowning lips and a scowl as she shut off her TV.

“Bah, humbug.” She countered quietly.

Her heart was actually hurting; a physical ache had taken up residence in her chest and she rubbed her palm over it trying to ease the sting.

All she could see was Jensen’s face as she'd ended the call. And whenever she saw his face the fear started that it was going to be the last time she saw it - at least the last time off the silver screen.

She’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call him, but she never managed to hit “call” before tossing her phone down and crying some more. Now it was almost one in the morning and she picked it up again. This time she managed to press his name and hit the green call button.

It went straight to voicemail. The beep sounded and she contemplated hanging up. But after a pause she spoke, clearing her throat first.

“Hey, it’s me…but you probably saw that already.” Another long pause. “So…I was hoping you’d pick up, but…you’re probably sleeping. I just…wanted to…”

She paused long enough that she was worried she’d be cut off, so she rushed out the rest. “Just wanted to say I love you.” Her throat caught. “And Merry Christmas.”

She heard a beep in her ear. “Oh,” she said, surprised, “I’ve got another call.” She saw Jensen’s name on the caller ID and hung up with the voicemail.

“Jensen?” She said tentatively as she answered.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Hi. I was just…” She let out a burst of slightly nervous laughter. “I just left you a message.”

“Oh?” Jensen asked. “What did you say?”

“Just…just Merry Christmas, and…love you.” She answered, her voice almost shy. Then she burst out full voice. “Jensen I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to -”

But Jensen cut her off. “No, baby, I’m sorry. That’s the whole point.”

The tension eased slightly from their voices and Y/N tried to explain her disappointment. “I just miss you.”

“I know, believe me, I know.”

She was going to say something else, but Jensen spoke first. “I had something delivered to you.”

“You what?” Y/N asked with a laugh of surprise. “You had something delivered to me, from across the country, at one in the morning on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, it should have been there by now. It’s probably already sitting on your porch. Go check. But stay on the phone with me cause it’s after midnight.”

Y/N giggled a little breathlessly and ran to the front door. She grabbed her sweater from the peg beside it and pulled it on against the snowy chill outside. She opened the door and peered out, but she didn’t see anything.

She stepped tentatively outside in her slippers. “There’s nothing here.” She told him. “I hope someone didn’t steal it.” She worried.

“No, it’s okay, I got it.”

Y/N's head whipped around as Jensen’s voice echoed tinnily through the phone. Her face froze as he walked towards her from the side of the porch, holding a box in his hand.

Y/N gasped loudly and then immediately screamed, running forward to throw herself into Jensen’s arms, making him drop the box. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life

His strong arms wrapped her up, cuddling her close against his thick, navy blue winter coat. She buried her face in his chest and wept unabashedly. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and then kept his cheek pressed there while she cried her fill of happy tears. She finally pulled back to look up at him, with tear tracks mottling her skin. His big hands were cold as he pushed her hair back and cupped her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “How did you manage this? What did you tell them?”

Jensen shrugged. “Told ‘em to fuck off.” She choked on her laughter as he continued. “I told them in slightly more polite terms, but not by much.”

She shook her head, a worried smile on her face. “But Jensen, you’re gonna get in trouble.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re gonna get fired.”

“I don’t care.”

When she opened her mouth to speak again, he kissed her, sucking away her breath and warming her from head to toe. Then he pulled away before pulling her close, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, and speaking against her skin. “I don’t care about anything more than I care about you.”

He pushed on her shoulders so he could look her in the eye. “You are everything to me Y/N and I need you to know that.”

He cupped her cheeks again, thumbs brushing away her newest tears. “So, to that end…” he bent down and scooped up the box he’d dropped. He brushed the fluffy snow from it and handed it to Y/N for her to open. “Merry Christmas.”

Y/N felt her heart race and then lodge in her throat as she cracked open the ring-sized box. Sure enough, nestled inside on a bed of velvet was a beautiful, elegant, gold engagement ring.

Jensen bent to one knee, and she started sobbing, trying desperately to hear him over her own noisy joy.

His bright, green gaze was sure and steady and overflowing with love. She wondered now, how she could ever have doubted it.

“I need you to know,” He began, “that I love you more than anything. That there is nothing,” he emphasized, “nothing more important to me than you. And for the rest of our lives I wanna be with you on all our Christmases and every New Year’s Eve, and Valentine’s Day, Fourth of Julys, hell, Arbor Days even!” he said with a watery chuckle. “It doesn’t matter what I’m celebrating, I wanna be celebrating it with you.”

He slipped the ring on her finger and she cried harder. After a minute he squeezed her hand. “Is there a yes in there, maybe - this snow’s cold on the knee.”

Y/N laughed merrily and threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” She shouted, and squealed as he stood up, and spun her around in a dizzying circle.

“Thank god.” He said quietly as he brushed his thumb across her mouth. “Fuck, I missed you, baby. Please say I can kiss you now.”

Y/N's belly clenched and her breathing kicked up a notch as she nodded and breathed against his cool lips. “Yes, god.” She sighed.

He kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue past her lips and licking up into the roof of her mouth. Many breathless minutes later, Jensen pulled back and wore a contemplative look. “Mmm…you taste like pumpkin pie.”

Y/N smiled. “Oh yeah, I made you a pumpkin pie.” His eyes lit up. “But I ate it.”

Jensen laughed and began kissing and nibbling on her neck. “Well, then I guess I just gotta feast on you.”

He pushed her back through her front door and slammed it shut, kicking off his shoes and pulling off her sweater as he went. By the time he got her to her bedroom, he had them both stripped to nothing. They fell easily onto the bed, clinging to each other and savoring the closeness they’d missed for so long.

Jensen kissed her slowly, skating his lips across her skin, stopping to lick and nip at different peaks and valleys of her body, making her arch into him and card her fingers through his hair. She tugged on it as his soft, smooth beard tickled her skin, before moaning deeply as it scratched against the delicate skin of her inner thighs.

Jensen kept her coming on his tongue for a very long time, till she was shaking and shuddering and begging him to fill her up.

“Jensen, please,” she panted, “I need you so close to me.”

Jensen understood exactly what she meant. Seconds later he pushed into her welcoming heat, home at last, finding the bliss he always found in her arms, and giving it back to her.

***

Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny and Y/N stretched languidly, rousing Jensen beside her, smiling as he gave out a sleepy moan. She turned to face him and gently traced her finger down the line of his nose and then began counting his cinnamon freckles, connecting them as she went.

Another small moan issued from Jensen’s throat. “S’early.” He mumbled. “Why’re you wake?”

She placed kisses all along his tight, square jaw before she answered. “I was just admiring my gift.”

He cracked one eye and looked at her left hand as it passed over his chest. A small smile lit his face and he ran a finger over her engagement ring. “You like, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded. “Oh, definitely. The ring is gorgeous.” She moved quickly, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, surprising a deep groan out of him; she could feel him harden beneath her. “But that’s not the gift I was talking about.”

She braced herself against his shoulders and rolled her hips against him before leaning down and pressing her lips softly to his, her voice teasing and full of love.

“Merry Christmas, Christmas present.”

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles fluff #jacklesversebingo23 #jensen ackles fan fic #jensen ackles angst #jensen ackles smut #christmas fic #request fic

217 notes · View notes

flonkertn · 9 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jj maybank x kook!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : implied abuse, mention of luke, jj is hospitalised, i think theres swearing?, a tiny bit angsty

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.4k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : when her dad leaves for the mainland, y/n basks in the freedom of her house and leads her relationship with JJ. but her freedom is too good to be true when JJ is beaten half to death and hospitalised.

𝐚/𝐧 : based on this request, tysm!! i loved writing it sm it was so fun and i rlly wanna write more about a kook!reader with JJ

The insistent buzzing kept you from your sleep in such an agonising manner and seemed to be causing it’s own earthquake on the nighstand that sits next to you. You figured it was just a wrong number, a scam or maybe even a drunken friend who dialled your number by mistake for the third time this week, but by the sounds of it, the ringing didn’t seem to be coming to a halt, and you were so desperate to silence it.

Sigh after sigh escaped from your lips as you began to sat up, the duvet drifting away from it’s place on your body and resting on top of your calfs. You scoffed whilst your arm made it’s way over to the source of sound, as though the phone would notice your tone and shut itself up to save your mood, but when the light of Kiara’s contact filled your eyes, your breathing almost stopped.

“Kie? What’s wrong? You never call this late.”

How late it really was you weren’t sure, but if you were in bed, it was already late enough to rouse suspicion as to why she needed to talk so urgently, opting for repeated phone calls instead of a regular text message.

“It’s JJ.” Her voice sounded hoarse and breathless, tears becoming apparent when she spoke as she almost whispered down the phone, tone laced with worry and fear.

The past year with JJ had been stressful, to say the least. You knew your father already disapproved of your relationship with the Pogues, his obsession with the island’s hierarchy controlling your every move, but once he heard that Sarah and Kiara were spending their time with you, he seemed to ease up;his mind set at rest with the knowledge that at least half-Kooks where apart of the group.

But when word got round that you were dating one, he lost his mind. He couldn’t even comprehend that his precious Kook daughter, royalty of Outer Banks, could ever love a piece of shit like JJ, as he so lovingly puts it. And yet, you could.

You loved JJ more than you ever imagined was possible, it was more than what love is made out to be in fairytales and cheesy rom-coms, it was so much more than that, it was life-consuming and brain-rotting and had you melting whenever he simply peeked his way into your eye-line, and nothing was going to get in the way of that, not even your family. You convinced your dad that the relationship was fiction, that his country club friends were victims to the gossip that was spread through brunches and golf sessions and fuelled by bottomless mimosas and scotch.

Thankfully, he bought it, after a week of you, along with Sarah and Kiara, partaking in said brunches and adorning yourself with diamonds and stepping up to the royal pedestal your dad had built for you. A perfect ruse for a stupid man.

Since then, you’d kiss your father goodbye each afternoon and spend countless nights with JJ, hours dedicated to taking pictures of you and Sarah in multiple different outfits one evening just incase your dad requested evidence of your whereabouts.

And when your father informed you that he was spending the next month and a half on the mainland for business, leaving you with an open house and an open schedule, you exploited the opportunity as much as humanly possible, maybe even pushing into the extraterrestrial shit, inviting JJ over every single night he could spare and roaming the island in peaceful bliss without the beady eyes of your father’s vultures watching your every move and reporting back. Having him sleep in your bed and use your shower and cook (burn food) in your kitchen, living like a married couple, how it was supposed to be.

“What happened?” You practically screamed down the phone, throwing the duvet from your bed and planting your feet firmly on the floor, reaching for your shorts as you secured the phone between your cheek and shoulder, ready to move at her beck and call.

“He’s in the hospital. I’m not sure what happened, Y/N/N, but he’s out cold. He needs you.” That statement alone had your body shaking, the pain in Kiara’s voice making the severity of the situation abundantly clear and shooting spurs of adrenaline up and down your spine as you moved to collect the necessities, sprinting out the door within mere seconds.

The drive there was silent, obviously you couldn’t talk to yourself, but your usual booming music had been exchanged for your raging heartbeat, which echoed within your ears and making your entire body vibrate, you could’ve sworn the car was shaking from it as well but maybe that’s just the nerves.

You were sure you’d broken the speed limit, and you were sure you hadn’t parked the car properly, not sparing it a glance and assuming it would simply roll out of the car park with a wide open door on the driver’s side, but none of that mattered, especially when Kiara’s words continued to resonate in your tightened chest, replaying in your mind like a chorus while your feet matched the rhythmic thumping of your head and provided an unhealthy percussion.

“What room is he in?” The nurse at the front desk just stared blankly back at you, watching as you shook your head and sighed, hands clenching and grasping at nothing on top of the cold marble of the countertop, which clawed at your previously warm fingertips and sucked the heat from them.

“Sorry, what room is JJ Maybank in?” Your eyes were apologetic as you withdrew slightly from the nurse, her slow nod as she scanned her computer and pressed the keys ever so gently, filling you with hope and easing the pace of your breathing, a pace which was sure to kill you if you didn’t see JJ soon.

“Room 403, the elevator is down the hall.”

You bolted through the room, shouting many thank yous to the nurse as you repeatedly pressed the elevator button, mimicking the earlier buzzing of your phone which picked up again in your pocket. Kiara again.

“What’s happened? I’m coming up now.” You informed her, voice frantic and panicked, not letting her squeeze a word in before you, fingers picking up the pace as the doors refused to open, blatantly ignoring your mutters and curses at them.

“He’s fine, don’t worry. It just looks like he’s starting to wake up and I wondered where you were.” Kie’s tone was calmer now, tears dried and legs crossed in a plushy armchair that sat close to JJ’s body, her hand gripping his.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just need these goddamn doors to open!” An involuntary shout left your lips, drawing unwanted attention to you and your outburst, which came at an unfortunate time as the doors chose to open just as you caused a scene.

Sighing and rolling your eyes, you stepped into the lift and muttered something to Kiara, pushing the number ‘4’ in the lift before hanging up, tapping your foot on the floor impatiently, as if the elevator would notice and speed up.

Eventually, you found yourself in room 403, edging closer to JJ and reaching out for him, closing the distance between the two of you and plopping down next to his body, scanning his face and peering through the tears that began to form along your waterline, waiting for his own eyes to lift open.

“His heart stopped on the way here.”

John B’s flat tone pulled your gaze away from the blonde boy, his body resting against the back wall with his head turned to face the window, watching the world go by and trying to ignore the pain his closest friend was in, wishing it all away in his mind.

“Fucking Luke.” Spit fell from his mouth the same time as the anger fell from him, watching as Sarah moved closer to his frame and cupping his face with her warm palm.

Your fingers rubbed against JJ’s knuckles, tracing the cuts and scars that sit on his hands, twitching slightly under your touch.

You don’t even notice Kie coming up behind you and giving you a quick hug, moving to rub circles into your back whilst her other hand twirled strands of your hair between her fingers.

“His heart did stop in the ambulance, but only for a second, and he’s okay now. I promise you he’ll be fine, the nurse assured so.” Her voice was barely a whisper, careful not to agitate John B further, leaning in a little to amplify the comfort she was providing you with.

“You said he was waking up.” Your breathing slowed but your tone was still panicked, eyes flickering between JJ’s closed lids as you let out a shaky breath, leaning back into Kiara’s touch.

“It looked like he was, but he didn’t manage to.”

And then the room fell silent, the only noise present being the rustling of the wrinkled, polyester bed sheets whenever you adjusted your position and the slowed, heaving breath of each body in the room. Each respected couple cornered off, one comforting the other desperately;John B’s head pressed into the crook of Sarah’s neck as she fiddled with the loose strands of hair that sit on his nape, Cleo’s hands working to ease the pain in Pope’s chest, their legs tangled together on the arm chair, sat facing one another, a soft smile playing on Cleo’s lips as she tried to reassure him, and Kiara stood behind your figure, massaging your shoulders and neck in order to relieve the pressure you felt and allow you to breathe easier.

But one by one they all left, Kie pressing a soft kiss to your temple and pulling the chair over to you as she picked her bag up off the floor, making you promise that you’d sleep before trudging out the door, reluctant to leave you alone but not wanting to anger her parents anymore that she already had.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sat there, clinging onto JJ’s hand for dear life as you whispered to him, convinced that he could hear you as you begged him to wake up, wishing he would just open his eyes and fight.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Dappled sunlight peeked through the gaps in the closed blinds and pressed onto your skin, tugging at your eyelids as it pulled you from your sleep.

Your pupils dilated when you finally opened your eyes, not even because of the light exposure, because of JJ’s eyes staring back at you, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as his hand rested against your waist.

You’d ended up falling asleep next to him, after asking the nurse it was alright to lie in the same bed, you drew the blinds and placed your body next to JJ;head pressed into his chest and your legs coming up to rest gently on his hips.

“JJ!” You pressed your lips against his and cupped his face with your hands, finally gaining the warmth of his face on yours that you so desperately needed to calm you down.

That was until he started tapping your back and whining into your mouth, causing you to pull back and apologise, becoming abundantly clear that the action was hurting him.

Nonetheless, you moved to play with his hair, brushing it away from his forehead and fiddling with the strands that covered his eyes.

And you stayed like that for hours, looking at each other as you both explained your perspectives of the previous night, both of your fingers glued to the other’s body, his fingers coming up to gently scratch against your scalp.

In fact, you stayed like that for two weeks, insisting that you feed JJ and care for him as much as he lets you, often pushing over his boundaries, not caring if it makes him feel inferior and weak, he is weak, as you kept telling him.

The only time you leave his side is to pick up clothes and toiletries and any other necessities for the both of you, giving yourself a half-hour time limit and forcing a nurse to stay in the room just because you aren’t there. But besides that, you stay by his side relentlessly, only ever standing to stretch your legs by process of pacing at the end of his bed, or to use the bathroom, or to fetch him food. You left him more than you anticipated to but if you walked out of the room for more than two minutes you called him, speaking to him through the phone so he wasn’t without company.

You eventually felt as though he was sick of you, getting tired of your constant coddling and need to be within his line of vision.

JJ, however, couldn’t get enough of you, basking in the care that you show him and sometimes even playing up his pain just so you’ll kiss him more. He loved you more than words could describe, and each time you smiled, beamed up at him from the book you had buried your nose in or from your place on his chest, he felt his heart-rate pick up and push against his chest, calling to rip open his body and hug you itself.

“You aren’t sick of me are you? ‘Cause I can leave if you want and give you some space, ju-“ He pushed a wide palm against your mouth and leant in, replacing a hand with his lips in a quick kiss.

“I could never get sick of you princess, and I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me forever.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, your entire face turning bright red as you scrunched the bridge of your nose and kissed him, not bothering to care wether or not you were hurting him.

“Even if I’m begging you to leave because you’re just sooo annoying and clingy.” He mumbled against your mouth, whining out when you slapped his chest.

“Ow! That hurts and you know it.” His eyebrows were raised and his tongue pushed against his teeth to prevent the smile that was urgently pulling at his lips from showing.

“I don’t care.”

Your face contradicted your words however, smiling so widely that your cheeks ached and your eyes glistening at him. Filled with love.

Not fairytale love or cheesy rom-com love, but real, pure love. The kind that consumes your life and rots your brain and melts you whenever that one blonde boy makes his way into your eye-line.

The kind of love that stays with you forever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @runningfrom2am

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #kook!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #request #request fic #rudy pankow #rudy #outer banks #obx #obx fic #outer banks fic #fic

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daceydeath · 4 months

Text

Coffee & Cookies

Pairing: Felix x M reader Word Count: 678 Genre: Angst (slight), Fluff Warnings: None Reqested by @oliveroliveoil (I hope you like it)

The café was almost empty as you waited for Felix to turn up, it was a strange feeling not being sure if you were about to be stood up or not. Yes Felix was incredibly sweet and kind but he could also be rather shy and you had a sneaking suspicion that his members didn't totally approve of the whole idea, although you weren't sure if it was the whole situation of you being a guy or that they were just trying to protect Felix as best they could.

Minutes were ticking by and Felix was now officially 15 minutes late, you sat playing with your phone trying not to make eye contact with the girl behind the counter who was beginning to look at you sympathetically as though she knew something you were not yet privy to. Until the bell chimed above the door and a small herd of college looking students descended upon the counter to order and you were able to avoid her pitying eyes. You hadn't noticed that at the end of the line of the rowdy students was Felix his eyes darting around to see if you were still there before breaking into a relieved grin.

"I am so sorry I'm late" Felix whispered softly to make sure you were the only one who heard "The shoot went on longer than I thought it would and I shouldn't make excuses I should just say I'm sorry again".

"It's alright Lix" you smiled your eyes crinkling at the beautiful boy in front of you "I just was starting to think I had the times wrong".

"No, this is my fault!" his deep voice affirmed before looking back towards the counter and the collection of people now making the café noisier than he would have liked "Should we order and go? We can head to the park?"

"Yeah, I'd like that" you smiled standing up and following Felix to the counter pulling out your wallet to pay for your own order.

"Can we get two iced Americano's to go and four of the cookies please" Felix smiled angelically charming the girl who just smiled and nodded at him ringing it all up for him and starting on his order immediately.

"Did you just?" you trailed off as Felix smirked at you tucking the bag of cookies he had been handed into his bag.

"Yes it's my apology" he continued thanking the girl for the drinks before leading you towards the door. You walked in a comfortable silence sipping your drinks until you reached the park where Felix felt a little more comfortable and started to walk a little closer to you.

"To be honest Lix, I thought you might not show up today. The others didn't seem so thrilled about us spending time together" you sighed, turning to look at him slightly as you walked down one of the paths towards a set of large shady trees.

"I know they were a bit tense about it" Felix pouted slightly his perfect bottom lip poking out just enough to make him look adorable, not sad "but it wasn't because it's you, it's because they worry about me".

"That this will end up badly if people find out?" you nodded knowing that this was all very much meant to look like two friends hanging out not a date or anything even vaguely more intimate.

"Not really, more like I might get hurt or that you might get hurt. People are not often kind when you do what I do" he mumbled purposely moving his hand so it brushed yours, sending goosebumps up your arm. You remained silent as you collectively wandered towards a park bench that was a little more secluded from the main park.

"I'm glad you came though" you smiled sitting beside Felix on the bench as he pulled the cookies from his bag "I really wanted to spend time with you".

"Me too" Felix grinned his eyes crinkling into pretty little moons before a comfortable silence fell over the pain of you.

Fin

A/N: Thank you for reading, this was my first attempt at same sex fluff and I hope I did it justice. If you have any suggestions for me please let me know it helps my writing getting constructive criticism.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow, @mrsseals16, @fawnpeaks, @leeknowinggg, @uno7, @tanzen-ist-gold, @junebug032

#lee felix x reader #felix fluff #felix x male reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #fluffy goodness #request fic #tooth rotting fluff #felix is everything

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thlayli-ra · 12 days

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Succubus!

(Sequel to 'I Prayed For This...')

Characters - Drew McIntyre, CM Punk, Jinder Mahal, The Undertaker, Frankie Calaway (OC)

Pairings - Drew McIntyre/CM Punk, Drew McIntyre/Jinder Mahal, CM Punk/The Undertaker

AU - Valetverse (created by Syreina)

Rating - Mature (18+)

Warnings - Male slash, dom/sub undertones, non-con elements, forced kissing, forced bondage, gagging, abduction, choking, masturbation, mentions of past abuse, strong language, mild violence

Words - ~4,800 (yeah, it's long, sorry!)

Background Info - In a world where women no longer exist, society is split into two; dominants (the ruling class) and valets (who possess the 'inualidus chromosome' that allows them to bear children). Stripped of basic human rights, valets are expected to be entirely subservient to the dominants that claim them and few are prized higher than the valets of the WWE.

Summary - The rot takes hold...

From the moment the bell rung it was sheer brutality. The combatants had gone to war, firing every weapon in their arsenal and while there had been advances on both sides, there was only ever going to be one winner. When Drew McIntyre landed the devastating Claymore that almost decapitated CM Punk, he knew it was over. Throwing himself across Punk, he pulled his leg back to deepen the pin while the referee counted the one, two, three.

And it was all over! He had won!

Standing up, he yanked his wrist out of the ref's grasp - he didn't give a damn about posturing to the crowd. All he cared about was the battered, broken and bloodied valet lying crumpled at his feet. Punk groaned as he slowly turned onto his stomach, curling an arm around his bruised ribs. From above, Drew watched the tattooed man manoeuvre his leg out to the side to steady himself, the way he usually did whenever he found himself face-down on the canvas.

Completely oblivious to the danger lurking above him.

Stepping closer, Drew nudged his boot between Punk's open legs. The valet jerked with shock as the dominant's toe bumped him through his trunks. One dazed eye creaked open to plead silently with the victorious Scotsman but Drew only sneered back.

The referee scuttled over with the papers and Drew snatched them off of him, signing his name on the dotted line before there could be any interference. The very second that the deed was done, he crouched down, bending his entire frame over his fallen foe and presented the contract to him.

'Look at this, Punk,' he taunted, grabbing up a fistful of the valet's dark, damp hair and pressing his face flat against the paper, smearing the fresh ink with Punk's blood and sweat. 'What did I tell you? I said I'd make you my bitch and I have. Your arse belongs to me now!'

A taped palm connected with the middle of Drew's chest, shoving him back. The Scotsman chuckled menacingly at the weak retort, throwing the contract aside so that he could grab his newly won prize by the ears.

'You can fight me all you want, it doesn't change a damn thing,' he yelled in the valet's face. 'In the eyes of the law, you are mine and there's nothing you can do about it. So if I want to do this-' he pulled Punk towards him, ramming their lips together harshly. The fighting spirit inside his beaten opponent flared up, and Punk got his fingers in between their foreheads, pushing Drew off but the Scot was not to be denied, cackling as he pinned Punk's wrist to the mat and kissed him again. Forcing his tongue between Punk's pursed lips and swirling it around obscenely, forgetting his own warning of 'PG, brother'.

Yanking him up by his snagged wrist, Drew tossed the weary valet over his shoulder before retrieving his papers then walking up the ramp with both of his prizes, grinning from ear-to-ear despite the ungodly blare of boos from the crowd.

The dominant ignored the looks and frowns that awaited him in gorilla, striding right past them with an iron grip on Punk's legs, squeezing them tight to his chest. His body was so warm and wet from the ring, the bare skin of his thighs sticking to Drew's sweaty pecs. He couldn't wait to shed the rest of his new pet's gear and see what delicacies lay underneath.

'Now then, Punky,' he sang, marching down the hallways of the backstage area. 'Where's your private locker room? Big star like you, gotta have your own locker room, right?'

Eventually he found the door with the name 'CM Punk' taped to it and went inside, making sure to snap the lock shut behind him before dumping his prize onto the floor. Punk let out a weak cry as his battered body collided with the unforgiving concrete.

'You know, when you make such sweet sounds like that it's hard not to bend you over that bench and claim you right here, right now.' Drew dug the toe of his boot underneath Punk's chin and tilted it back. 'But luckily for you, I'm a patient man. I can wait. Now, let's get you packed up and take you back to your new home, shall we?'

Without warning, the wounded wrestler fought back. Grabbing Drew's ankle, Punk flung his arm up, aiming for a brutal low blow but the dominant was able to step out of harm's way before the taped fist hit its target. The shock on Drew's face dissolved into rage and he savagely smashed his boot into Punk's side, kicking him again and again, all while laughing maniacally.

'Haven't you learnt yet? Didn't I make myself clear in that ring?' Drew tossed back his mop of sweaty hair as Punk curled in on himself, coughing feebly with pain. 'You can't beat me, Punk so stop trying. Just accept that I am your new dominant now. You belong to me! Did you not see your nice new name on your papers. You're no longer Phil Calaway, you're now Phil Galloway. Not that different, really, if you think about it. You should get used to that easy enough.'

From down on the floor, Punk rasped something out, the words choked by another harsh cough.

'What was that?' Drew said, bending in close to the beaten down valet.

'Fuck... you!'

Drew went silent, gritting his teeth behind pursed lips. His fingers tensing into tight fists. He took in a sharp breath to calm himself before he beat the defiant valet black and blue.

'You want to do this the hard way, Punk?' He couldn't hide the snarl in his voice 'Fine, then we do this the hard way.'

Leaping up to his feet, he went to Punk's bags, ransacking his belongings until he found exactly what he was looking for. He chuckled menacingly as he grabbed up a roll of the valet's wrist tape. 'This'll do nicely,' he smirked, yanking the end loose with a loud ssrrrrkkkk. 'Let's start by shutting up that big mouth of yours.'

The second Drew grabbed his jaw and forced the tape over his lips, Punk yelled out, but it was too late and his protests were soon muffled by layers and layers of white tape being wrapped around his lower face. Once firmly gagged, Drew thrust his newly acquired prize flush against the floor and straddled the small of his back, capturing both of Punk's frantically flailing wrists. Despite the valet's struggles, his hands were soon bound together with tape, snaring them behind his back. His ankles were next to follow until the tattooed valet was entirely restrained. Defenceless.

It didn't seem to matter to the older man, however. Once Drew got up off of him, he began to thrash against his binds, desperate to loosen them and break free, all while spitting stifled insults from behind his gag.

Drew wasn't finished with him. Amongst the valet's belongings, he spotted a bundle of faded black fabric. Punk's hoodie! He lifted it up to admire the weathered garment, even going so far as to press it against his nose and take a deep breath. It reeked of Punk. That same alluring scent that permeated the very air of his private locker room, the same aroma that had hung around them in the ring, the intensity becoming too hard to bear whenever they were pressed together in close contact. Drew had enjoyed the first taste of his new pet and he looked forward to becoming more intimately acquainted with it later.

For now...

He grabbed the off-white tie of the hoodie and pulled the entire length out. This, he used to fasten Punk's taped wrists and ankles together, a nasty final insult to the defeated valet. Gagged, hog-tied and exhausted, his semi-nude body bruised and bleeding, Punk finally surrendered to his immediate fate. Placing his sticky cheek against the cement floor, he went quiet and still, focusing on conserving his energy for later.

For he would need it, Drew would make damn sure of that!

Stuffing Punk's belongings into his bags, he packed them into his rental before retrieving his biggest prize of the night. Opening the trunk of his car, he carefully placed the fettered valet inside, stepping back to admire the breathtaking sight of the fear in Punk's wide hazel eyes. No shiny golden belt, no jewel-encrusted crown, no title, not even a Wrestlemania moment, could ever rival the status of the trophy he currently had in his possession, quivering in the confined space.

'A word of advise?' Drew said, tilting his head to the side. 'Enjoy the drive. Because once we reach our destination...' he sneered viciously, '..I'm going to make your life a living hell.'

He slammed the trunk shut.

'HAH!'

Drew shot awake, beaded in cold sweat. He glanced around him, recognising his bedroom back in his apartment. It was early morning and the first soft rays of light were drifting in through the drapes. Little dapples of spring sunshine danced onto the man beside him in bed. Jinder, his husband. The man he loved.

The Scot scrubbed a hand over his damp face. A dream. It was all just a fucked-up dream. His shoulders stooped when he spied the tented bed covers at his hips. He had an impressive case of morning wood.

But why? Because of CM fucking Punk?

Checking that Jinder was still asleep, Drew slipped out of bed and tip-toed into the bathroom. The first thing he did was splash his face in ice-cold water, try to cleanse away the rot from his brain. It was getting harder each day, like mould left untreated in the shower tray, it kept coming back worse and worse.

CM fucking Punk!

He didn't even like Punk. He didn't even like valets! Yes, he had been married to one once but that had been a marriage of convenience. Dominants weren't meant to love other dominants, least not without a hot piece of valet ass sandwiched between them, but Drew had never felt anything for the gentler sex. Not even for Curtis, who had been nothing but sweet and caring to them both, even though he knew there was no love involved in their set-up.

When Jinder was defeated by Ryback in the match that lost them Curtis, Drew wasn't upset. He'd went to his husband's side and held his cheeks in his large hands. 'I'm sorry,' Jinder had said, on the verge of tears.

In reply, Drew kissed him, in plain sight, in front of the WWE Universe, in front of the cameras, in front of everybody. 'We don't need him,' he replied. 'Now we can be us. Who we really are.'

They had paid dearly for their true selves; both of them were fired by the company. But times had changed and attitudes had softened and the pair had eventually been welcomed back with open arms. The atmosphere was certainly less tense with Hunter running things.

So why was Drew suddenly so... unsatisfied? And why was CM fucking Punk of all people harassing him in his sleep? Haunting his dreams. More than his dreams, he was afraid to admit. The past few weeks, he had never strayed far from the Scotsman's thoughts even when awake.

The cold water did nothing to cool the solidness between his legs so Drew stood over the toilet bowl. Grabbing hold of his massive shaft, he began to pump it with his fist, pulling his foreskin back over his leaking head as far as it would go then folding it back again. A groan sounded in his chest, almost like a tiger's growl. He thought of Jinder, thought of his big hands roughly pushing him down onto the sheets, kissing his neck, fingers grasping the hair of his chest.

The pumping hand quickened.

Those calloused fingers pinched tight around his nipples, teasing them up into stiff peaks before sucking them into a warm mouth. Drew screwed his eyes shut, imagining the soft tongue soothing his swollen skin. Envisioning the coolness of the metal ball flicking against his dusky-

Wait...

The head lifted and he saw his lover's face. It was not Jinder!

Paler skin, softer features. Eyes shining olive green in the hazy morning light. Thin lips broke out into a lop-sided grin, climbing up its right cheek to crinkle the crow's feet at the corner of its eye. The tongue, that had moments before been teasing Drew's nipple, flicked out, rubbing the ball stud against the metal ring pierced through its bottom lip.

Drew gave a strangled gasp, perfectly capturing Punk's face in his mind's eye, blurring his image from both past and present. His cock was screaming for more and he indulged it, pumping vigorously.

The succubus stared down at him from on high, an angel with burnt wings. A demon.

'Come on, Drew,' it scoffed, the tip of its pink tongue rubbing the lip ring back and forth. 'You know by now, I'm not a demon.' The pale skin deepened to a blood red, fire burning in its eyes as two boned horns grew out of its forehead. 'When pushed, I'm Satan himself.'

The harder Drew jerked himself to his climax, the tighter he grit his teeth, hoping against hope that no noise spilled from his lips for Jinder to hear.

He reached out his hands, wrapped them around the devil's throat. And squeezed. The pierced grin widened, hazel eyes rolling into the back of its skull as Drew pressed his thumbs in deeper. Gasping for air, the demon howled like a cat in heat-

'Urrrggggffff,' Drew came hard, strings of his seed spilling out of him into the toilet bowl. Post-climax exhaustion hit and he steadied his wobbly arms against the wall, pressing his flushed cheek onto the cool tile.

Knock, knock, knock. 'Hey Andrew? You ok in there?'

Drew straightened up with a grunt, quickly shoving himself back into his boxer shorts and flushing his sin away. One last glance into the mirror, he shook any thought of Punk from his mind and went to the door. Jinder looked half-asleep but worried. They'd been married over a decade and yet he still cared so much for the Scotsman.

It made Drew's heart ache to lie to him. 'Yeah, fine,' he said with a shrug. 'Just needed a pish.'

Jinder snorted a laugh. He knew he would and it did the job, breaking the tension immediately. 'Oh good,' his husband smiled, running a hand over his face 'I was worried it was the chowder I made last night.'

'Hah, no,' Drew flopped onto the bed and scrubbed his fists against his bleary eyes. Jinder snuggled into his side, wrapping his arm around him.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked out of the blue.

'How did you know I was thinking?'

'It's your eyebrows. They're like two drunk caterpillars when you've got something on your mind, and you get that faraway look in your eye.'

'Hmm, I'm that transparent, am I?' Drew didn't like that. He hoped that Jinder was the only one who could read his secrets so easily.

'So?'

Drew took in a deep breath. 'I was thinking about... Curtis.'

Jinder opened his eyes and frowned up at his husband. 'Do you miss him?'

'Do you?' Drew shot back.

The Canadian thought for a moment. 'Sometimes. I miss the mornings like this where we would all wake up together in each other's arms. I miss having somebody to complain about you to.' Drew's chest heaved with a chuckle. 'I do miss having a valet's touch around here - our place is such a dominant's pad.'

'It's not that bad.'

'No, but, it was nice, you know.' Jinder lifted his head in order to look directly into his husband's eyes. 'Why? Has somebody caught your eye?'

Drew felt a sharp pain in his chest. A pang of panic before spilling his darkest thoughts.

'No,' he said. 'Nobody. Except you.'

The pair kissed sweetly and Jinder snuggled back into his side, falling into a peaceful sleep. But Drew's mind was wracked with alarm.

He hadn't lied. Not technically. Hearing Jinder reminiscing about their time with Curtis had made Drew deeply uncomfortable. He didn't want that, he didn't want sweet, domestic fluff. Not when it came to him.

Drew didn't want to share.

He wanted Punk all to himself!

The Calaway Residence, Texas

'Urgh!' Phil grumped as he flopped onto the chair.

Mark glanced up at his husband over the top of his newspaper, noting his gym wear which confirmed his suspicions that the valet had gotten up early to do his physio therapy exercises. 'I made you some breakfast.'

Phil looked down into his bowl of oats and dried fruit. 'Why do you hate me so fucking much?'

'Would you rather I made you a stack of pancakes dripping with syrup?'

'YES!' Phil shot back, then scrunched up his nose. 'No. Not like I can work it off cause of this fucking arm.'

'You're getting there.'

'Not fast enough. Doc says it's still not one hundred percent.' He stared forlornly into his bowl. 'Just when I had finally worked all the baby fat off too.'

'I like you with a bit more meat,' Mark replied warmly. 'Especially your cute little gopher cheeks.'

'Well say goodbye to them,' Phil scoffed. 'Them, the stomach rolls, the muffin tops. It'll all be gone by the time I'm done with them.'

'Pity,' Mark noted, turning the page of his paper.

Shoving his oats around the bowl, Phil moped. 'Maybe I'll stop by the bakery later and stare in through the window. If I look pathetic enough then maybe one of the guys will let me lick one.' His eyes was suddenly drawn to the door leading to the hallway and a shadowy figure trying to sneak past. 'Hey! HEY YOU! Get your ass in here right now!'

With a theatrical roll of his eyes, a young valet aged around nine years walked in. 'What?' he huffed.

'Don't 'what' your mother,' Phil scolded his son. 'The hell are you wearing?'

'A shirt.'

'Well I can see it's a shirt. Where'd you get it? Was it from Uncle Sting?'

The boy looked at his mother like he was an idiot. 'It's yours.'

Phil paused. Looking again at the faded black T-shirt, he read the words CM Punk. Welcome to Chicago, motherfucker.

'Huh...' he hushed out, feeling a small lump in his throat. He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling with pride. 'Well ok then,' he grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. 'Go get 'em, Frankenstein.'

'You do know that Frankenstein was the name of the scientist?'

'Exactly! And you're the monster I created.' Before his son could protest, Phil planted a kiss on his forehead.

'Urgh, you're so embarrassing!' The boy wriggled out of his mother's grasp and grabbed up his skateboard.

'Love you, Frankie,' Mark called out to the boy as he left.

'Love you too, Dad.'

'Aww, he's a good kid,' Phil beamed.

'He's gonna get called up to the principal's office about that shirt,' Mark warned.

'Principal Mendoza doesn't talk to me anymore, you know that.'

Mark let out a ragged sigh. 'Fine,' he grunted, 'I'll swing by after my meeting later.'

'Thank you, honey!' Phil teased, grudgingly picking up his spoon to eat his breakfast as he swiped through his phone. Moments later, he let out a loud snort of laughter. 'Can't believe this, he's at it again.' Mark cocked an eyebrow at his husband. 'Drew McIntyre,' Phil explained without being asked. 'Guy can't post a single thing on social media without mentioning me. Must be desperate for traffic or something.'

Mark put down his paper and eyed his husband warily. 'Should I be concerned?'

Phil's brows shot up his forehead. 'About Drew McIntyre? Pfft! God no! He's harmless.' Mark looked unconvinced, however. 'We go way back, believe me. I know him and well... let's just say I'm not his type.' Getting the hint, Mark lifted his paper back up. 'Nah, I'm not worried about him. Seth on the other hand...'

'Still having problems?'

Letting out a long breath through his crooked nose, Phil pursed his lips irritably. 'Guy's still pissed with me, not really sure why. Think it has something to do about me leaving the way I did.'

Mark's furrowed his brows. 'He knows why you did, right?'

'Kinda,' the valet returned, his face turning sad and pensive as he finished off his bowl. 'About the same as everybody else does. I dunno... we weren't really speaking at the time after all that shit went down with Dean and Roman. Maybe that's why he's pissed, or maybe it's because Dean (or Jon, whatever he's calling himself these days) and I had our little falling out at AEW.'

'He was hardly innocent in that fiasco either,' Mark pointed out, flatly, making Phil smile; his husband liked to play the tough guy but he always had the valet's back.

'Yeah, well, neither was I,' Phil said, grabbing up his husband's plate and cutlery to take to the sink. 'You know, Dean was the only guy back then who tried to help me out. He really put his neck on the line for me. And look how I repaid him. Can't blame Seth really, if he only knew what really happened, how bad it got...'

Phil went quiet.

Mark looked up and found his husband staring into the middle of the table, as if lost in a trance. It was then that he spotted his inked fist wrapped tightly around his discarded fork, blood dripping from where he was squeezing the prongs into his palm.

Throwing his paper down, Mark reached across the table, placing his large hand over his husband's quivering digits. Phil flinched at the touch, his frightened eyes finding Mark's soft greens.

'Phil, look at me,' Mark said, his voice gentle but firm. 'You're ok, you're here with me.'

'I'm ok,' the valet repeated. 'I'm here with you.'

'You're here with me.'

'I'm here with you.'

'I need you to breathe, ok? In.'

'In.'

'Out'

'Out.'

They continued this pattern until Phil's breathing steadied. Shaking his head, he flickered back to his surroundings, finding his husband's concerned face. 'I'm good,' he said at last. 'I'm ok.' Slowly, tentatively, Mark let go. 'Shit, haven't had one of those for a while.'

His husband watched him silently. 'You know, if it's too much for you, Phil, going back to WWE, you don't have to-'

'It's not,' the tattooed valet assured his husband. 'It's really not. It... feels different there now. Now that they're gone. I dunno how to explain, it's just... different. And anyway-' Punk shook out his neck and shoulders, hardened his features. 'I've got to go back. I've got something to prove. It's just like it was with Cody, I have unfinished business there.'

Mark only nodded, letting his husband get his thoughts out. Listening closely.

'I'm sick of holding on to all this... shame! The way people look at me, the way they look at Frankie. I fucking love my kid and I'm sick of people using him against me all the time, like he's some kind of, I dunno, punishment for what happened to me. He deserves better than that. We both deserve better than that.'

'I understand,' Mark said solemnly.

'And if I don't go back? Then he wins. Again! It's just yet another thing that he took away from me. And I'm fucking sick of him controlling my life.'

Mark lowered his head, unable to hide his guilt. 'I understand,' he said again, 'and you know that I'm here for you, no matter what. If you need to do this, then I'll support you but if it gets to be too much and you want to leave, I'll support that too.'

'I know,' Phil smiled softly, reaching over to place his hand over Mark's, caressing the large knuckles with his thumb. 'I love you.'

'I love you too. So much. You have no idea.'

'Oh, I do, believe me,' Phil teased.

'And you promise me, at the first sign of trouble-'

'There won't be any trouble.'

'Phil...'

The valet sighed. He couldn't deny that he had a long storied history of getting on the wrong side of the wrong types of people. But that was back then, when he was young and reckless. Well... more reckless. He was also prettier back then. These days there were too many wrinkles on his face and greys in his beard, the skin hung looser on his frame and his C-section scar was clear across his lower belly. He loved that scar, it was his favourite one of them all, for it gave him his precious son, but a lot of dominants looked at it with disgust. Like he was spoilt goods, well passed its sell-by date.

Not that he gave a single shit. For once in his life, he didn't have to worry about dominants. He could finally allow himself to relax, finally allow himself to be happy. He was fulfilled with his home life and now, he wanted that same satisfaction with his wrestling career, which had been stopped all too abruptly, both when he left WWE and at AEW.

It was time for him to finally carve out the legacy he was destined for.

* * *

It was obvious that the manager recognised Drew by the way he lavished him with a full escorted tour of the self-storage lot. Drew had rejected the first three options, finding them too close to the centre. Made sense that most people preferred the units on the inside - it was more secure there - but Drew wanted one as far away from prying eyes (and ears) as possible.

'Ah, here it is,' the manager said, inputting the code on the number pad. Drew liked the look of this one. On a corner, right at the edge. Beyond the chain link fence there was nothing but empty wasteland for several miles. The door slid up and the manager held out his arm for Drew to go inside. The Scotsman scanned the interior of the storage unit, his imagination hard at work.

It needed some work done. Sound-proofing mainly. There was a lot of wall space to cover to ensure that not even the smallest peep escaped to the outside and alerted a suspicious passer-by. He would have Punk gagged most of the time, but considering the activities he had planned for the pair of them, it seemed a shame to not be able to hear him. To hear those delightful moans and whimpers and cries. To hear him pleading for Drew to stop before howling for more.

Walking around the unit, he looked for the best places he could install either a bar or a ring into the wall to attach chains that he could tether to Punk's wrists or ankles. Perhaps, some kind of dog collar. Aye, leash the bastard like the dog he is. He'd probably like that. Maybe he could affix a hook to the ceiling that he could use to dangle the little shit when he misbehaved.

Everything else was easy enough to get. A mattress, a bucket. They'd be the only home comforts Punk would be allowed. Drew could envision it so perfectly. Imagining the tattooed valet huddled against the wall, stripped completely bare, his pale skin filthy with grime. Chains softly clinking as he shivered with the cold. If he pleased his dominant, then he may earn himself a blanket to keep himself warm.

But Drew knew it would take a long, sustained effort to tame the wayward valet. He was notoriously fiery, rebellious and stubborn. Even nearing middle-age, he had a short-fuse, as his time at AEW proved, and he wasn't afraid to lash out.

But he already had a plan in mind. Everybody, be they dominant or valet, had a breaking point, and Drew was determined to find Punk's. He'd start by starving him, wear him down physically. He'd withhold water from him too, and if he swallowed some of his pride and submitted to his new master, Drew would satiate him. But only by his own hand. Drew would hold the water bottle for Punk to suckle from, spoon feed him one bite at a time, like a babe, until he learnt who held his very life in his hands, who was responsible for his welfare and imprinted on him as his one true dominant.

And when Drew had finally exorcised the demon from the man, he would be left with a flawless angel, the vision of perfection.

'So what do you think?'

The manager's voice snapped Drew from his dark thoughts. He wobbled for the briefest of moments, doubting himself and his cruel intentions...

... then sharply shook them off.

'I'll take it,' he said.

#Thlayli-writes #valetverse au #cm punk #drew mcintyre #the undertaker #jinder mahal #punkintyre #underpunk #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fan fiction #request fic #for anon #drewpunk

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