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mendesbadrepuation · 3 years

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Knife Play || Bucky Barnes

*gifs not mine...creds to owner*

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger Y/n

Background: It’s simple. You have an itch that needs to be scratched. If he’s willing to play then he too needs to be scratched. We all know how boring it can get when everyone is out of the Avengers Compound for the weekend. Except for the two people in the place who have always had an attraction for each other.

Mature Content Warning: slight knife kink, unprotected sex (male x fem), very slight spitting, just a sprinkle of fingering, 18+ minors DNI

A/n: this is my first time posting smut. I never have had the confidence to do this. Just felt like it’s not my best quality when it comes to writing. Posting this for fun and as always everyone is welcome for feedback! :)

•••••

I was training late in the afternoon in the compound. I had an itch that needed to be scratched and the best way to release those feelings were working out. It was strangely quiet around the building today and it was expected to be like that for a couple of days. Really I think it was just me here and Tony’s technology. I had a faint idea that maybe someone else was here but we haven’t crossed paths yet.

I pick off my blades from the target board one by one. Each of the knives were sitting side by side each other. My aim was about as good as Clint’s. He did have some credit for making me who I am today. My skin was hot and lightly covered in sweat. I was training in a tiny black sports bra and tight spandex shorts. The sports bra left nothing to the imagination. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror to the side. Pieces of my hair had fallen around to frame my face. My braids were a little messy but still holding together.

Without looking at the target I shut my eyes and throw one knife. I hear it hit the board and I open my eyes to see where it landed. Dead center of the target. Damn I’m good.

“That was too easy.” A voice breaks the silence I was in and it startled me. I look up and meet eyes with James Barnes.

“You shouldn’t startle a lady with knives James.” I reply and playfully point the knife towards him. I watch him pull an evil smirk on his face. He brings his arms up and folds them in front of his chest. His biceps and shoulders looked as if they were going to shred his shirt at the stance. James had a muscular body like all the men in the house do. But his was different. His was more in his back, shoulders, and biceps. Most importantly his chest. Something I had always found insanely attractive about him. Often times I would catch myself daydreaming about the possibilities. The way he would take me.

“Knives don’t scare me. You for sure don’t.” He replies in a cocky tone making my stomach burn.

“Hm I’ll remember that.” My tone was playful towards him. What I would give for him to just fuck me right now. I couldn’t put a price on it. That’s how bad I wanted him and how bad I’ve always wanted him. “What are you doing here? Honestly thought I had the place to myself.” I turn my body back to facing the targets. Without hesitation I sling one at the furthest target hitting straight in the middle. Then I sling another a little closer to me doing the same.

“I stayed behind like you. I knew you were here earlier. I heard you singing in the kitchen this morning.” My cheeks burned from embarrassment at being caught by him. I was in no way a good singer so I’m sure he was not happy about that.

“Ooh sorry that you had to hear that.” I try to laugh it off to ease my thoughts.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. You have a pretty voice Y/n.” Just as my cheeks were coming back to normal they flamed red hot once more.

“Uh wow thanks James.” I reply.

“You can call me Bucky.” He responds and I felt honored I could. Steve and Sam were about the only two that could in this place.

“Well Bucky. You wanna throw some knives with me or stand there and look pretty?” The words came out of my mouth before I could really think about them. This grin pulls on his lips at my statement.

“Hate to show you up. I shouldn’t deny a beautiful lady like yourself though.” He replies and starts walking towards me. I lick my lips as I watch him heading my way. The moment he gets close enough he easily towered over me. I watch him look down at my body his eyes snuck their way to my chest for just a split moment. I still caught it though. I break the connection and make my way to retrieve my knives sticking into the targets. Bucky casually goes to the wall of weapons and picks the ones he wants.

Once I come back and stand next to him is when he begins throwing his. Each one he threw hit the middle target precisely. His intense focus was something that made the heat in my belly even hotter. His jaw was tense and the way his biceps would flex as he threw the dark metal. It was stunning. There was this thick tension in the air from the two of us. I believe both of us were wanting an itch to be scratched.

The gears in my head turn for ways to get him closer to me. Close enough he would touch me. When he goes to retrieve his knives I thought of something. I knew it would increase the tension in here to the max. Without hesitation I throw my knife directly past Bucky’s ear landing dead center of the target. It was centimeters away from hitting his hand. My aim was too good to actually touch him. His entire body stops dead in its tracks. He turns around slowly to face me. I’m standing there smirking. I had a very sadistic smile forming on my face.

“Do you real want to play that game?” Bucky asks daringly.

“Come on honey. You know I wouldn’t have hit you. I’m too good for that.” I was being downright playful with him. And maybe just a little to cocky.

“Let’s put that to the test then.” He stands directly in front of the target board. Just as he lines himself up I throw another knife in his direction. It lands directly above his head and it was so close im sure I snitched a piece of his dark hair. He didn’t flinch an inch from my actions.

“You know something that’s really hot? That a man can have, that is.” I spin the knife around in my hand as I sway on my hips. I never lost my eye contact with him. I was really testing my limits with him this time.

“Do enlighten me, doll.” He replies. I watch the way he licks his lips making me think of sinful things he could do with that tongue. The little pet name rang in my ear and he knew the effect it had on me.

“Fast reflexes.” I throw the knife aiming directly for his head. If anyone would catch it it would be him. I wouldn’t have thrown it if I knew he couldn’t. That’s what made this so fun. He easily catches the knife in his hand. The tip of the blade was pointed dead center of his forehead. I saw the subtle way his eyes turned to lust rather than rage. He knew what my intentions were in that moment. He flips the handle of the knife around and twirls it between his fingers. From here I could see his veins popping out in his strong hand. His metal hand shined in the light of this room. What I would do to have that metal touch me. The thought of how cool it would feel against my hot skin made goosebumps rise.

“You got some guts throwing that knife at me like that.” He says as he’s still twirling that knife around in his hand.

“Someone’s gotta put you in your place old man.” I playfully joke knowing that term would get him riled up easily.

He looks down at the floor and this time he has the sadistic smile forming on his face. “Someone needs to put you in your’s.” He uses the knife to point towards me.

The moment he locks his blue eyes with me I felt the words spilling out. “Then do it.” His body comes walking towards me like a man on a mission. He had one goal in mind and I was hoping we were on the same page with it. We become toe to toe and my head tilts up to meet his gaze.

“If you want me. All you have to do is ask.” I felt him place his metal hand against my waist. The contact made a shock go through my entire body. That’s when I felt the handle of the knife glide up to rest at the top of my chest. He rests it there waiting for my response. I don’t make a move or even place my hands on him yet.

“I don’t beg.” I reply back.

“Oh doll, I didn’t ask for you to beg. I asked if you want me. It’s a simple yes or no question.” He flips the knife around with the dull side against my skin. I felt him glide the knife up towards my neck very slowly. I keep my heart rate at a steady beat and do the best I can to show him he doesn’t have that much control over me. Even though he could have his way with me right now. He leans in pulling me to him by my waist. My chest collides with him in a split second. His lips go to the left side of my head directly next to my ear. “Yes or no.” He whispers into my ear and I felt my knees go weak. I know he saw the goosebumps form on my skin. He now had me where he wanted me.

I swallow hard before I answer. “Yes.” My words did not come out as strong as I wanted them to. He noticed the slight weakness. This time I could see the playfulness poking out of him. I felt him take the knife up towards my face. The pointed tip gets flipped around now. He gracefully pressed it against my bottom lip careful not to hurt me.

“Yes what?” He asks as he looks down at me now. He tucks a long piece of fly away behind my ear swiftly. His flesh hand cups my cheek and I lean into it instinctively. My tongue slides out and grazes across the metal in a seductive way. His eyes sparkle at the action. He removes the lethal weapon away from me and tosses it over his shoulder. It lands somewhere in the room.

“I want you.” I let the words fall out fast. I lean up on my tippy toes to reach his height. He meets me halfway to help and we put our lips together. I felt the burning sensation go through my entire body. He greedily slides his tongue on my bottom lip and I grant him access. My head spins at the feeling of us exploring.

Bucky brings his hands down to the back of my thighs. In one quick movement he tugs up letting me know to jump. The moment I do he hoists me up into his hold where my legs swing around his waist. Our lips never parted with all the movements. He carried me a few feet over to where the mirror was. My back pressed against it and the force of his body collided into mine. I suck in a deep breath from the feeling it gave me. The old man had more moves than I thought.

“That was smooth.” I whisper into the kiss and he huffs a laugh.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He says and my stomach burns. Bucky begins placing kisses down my neck. Each one a little longer and he began to suck. I knew he was going to leave his mark on me. I let a low moan out when he sucks a spot on my collar bone. My hands now run through his hair tugging and scratching. I pulled him closer to me if it was possible. I wanted him to know his actions were very wanted.

His hands firmly grasp under my thighs again and he pulls away from the mirror wall. I securely link my arms further around his neck to get me stable. There was no way he was going to drop me no matter what I thought. I felt him sit down on a gym bench. It was leaning up so he had a back rest now. My legs simply straddled him giving me a lot more control. My hips grind into his groin very slowly and I got a good feel for him. Already so hard for me. He pulls back from my neck and looks directly at me. Our breathing was heavy and our hearts pounding.

“The amount of times I have thought about this. The way I feel right now doesn’t compare. You’re a dream.” I smile at his words. I let it slide that he pauses our moment.

“You’re unbelievably sexy.” I confess as I look at him. He had a little stubble around his chin and jaw. Only he could pull that look off. My fingers work their way down to the hem of his shirt. My hands slide under and my nails scratch up his torso. Lightly I trace the creases of his abs and watch the way he reacts. I could see his eyes trying to roll in the back of his head at the pleasure the action brought. He was trying to hide how bad he wanted me just the same way I was being.

I lift his shirt up and over his head tossing it in a random direction. I see the scars from his time in Hydra. This time he watches me to see how I react to his body. He was beautiful and the scars only made it better. I trace my fingers along his chest and torso some more enjoying all the exploring. My hands make their way down south to the zipper of his pants. I lock eyes with him and slowly pull the zipper down. With some help from him he rolls his pants down just enough he could break free. I hear him sigh out from no longer be restricted in the pants. I stand up for a moment and peel my spandex off quickly stepping out of them. He watches my every move with those steel blue eyes. My heart flutters the moment he extends his hands out pulling me back on top of him.

I bring his cock out from his boxers and I was instantly intimidated. I spit in my hand and bring it down to slowly rub him to start. The moment I began my sensual hand motion he moans. That sound alone was euphoric. Bucky places his lips on my shoulder as I rub him. He sucks another hickey and his breathing was increasing. I tilt up to align my entrance with him. With his help I glide my way down and he fills me up inch by inch. When I bottom out we were both releasing moans from just that feeling. I start to rock my hips once I get adjusted to his size.

His hands firmly grip my hips and forces them down on to him thrusting me harder on him. In a swift movement he brings his hands up under my bra line. He tugs it up taking it off and throwing it down. I was completely exposed to him and I never felt so good in my skin before. He looks at my body from top to bottom and make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“Gorgeous.” He says and it gives me more confidence. My hands now rest on his shoulders and I pick my pace up. I felt the burning coil ready to spring up from my high. His metal hand makes his way down from my neck. He pauses at my breast to give it some attention. His tongue laps around my nipple sending me into pure ecstasy. Then the cold metal goes to my wet center where his thumb now rubs my clit.

“Oh J-James. Right there.” I moan his name loudly from the new sensation. It only brought me closer.

“You like that baby?” His voice was raspy and deep. Something about saying his real name got him going. I try to pick my pace up so the friction would increase between us. With his thumb rubbing me and the way he filled me up made it challenging.

“Yes.” I say and it follows with a loud moan. He notices the way I slow down from exhaustion and starts to thrust himself up to meet me. It deepened himself into me making me see stars. He goes over to my other breast giving it equal treatment. The entire room was spinning from all the sensations. You could hear our moans bouncing off the walls of the training room.

“I’m so close.” Bucky pulls his mouth away from my chest to say. I bring my head down to rest between his neck and shoulders. My left hand was cupping the back of his head as it tangled in his now sweaty hair. The right was gripping his bicep very strongly. My small hands didn’t stand a chance from how wide they were.

“God James don’t stop.” I whine as he thrusts even deeper into me. My heart pounds and I knew I was right there. His cold metal thumb continues to rubs circles and it completely sends me over the edge. I moan loudly into his neck and felt myself release. Just from the sound of my moans Bucky cums right after me. I felt him slow his thrusts as he rides out our highs.

“That was fun.” I say with a smile. I was still seeing a few stars as I lean back to look at his face.

“That was amazing.” He was still catching his breath. I carefully pull myself away from him and he lets out a huge breath from the overly sensitive nerves in his tip. I felt the emptiness from him no longer filling me up.

“Round two in the shower?” I ask him. He looks up at me quickly making sure he heard me right. I had that playful smile back on my face. “Or does the old man need a nap?” His mouth slightly falls slack and his tongue pokes out licking his lips. “If you keep teasing me with your tongue like that I’m going to lose it.” I let the words slip out and this time he smirks.

“I’ll show you what this tongue can do.” He replies and quickly I stand up. I take my bra and spandex and hold it in my hands. Bucky grabs his shirt and we practically run into the bathroom. The one we so happened to share. So you could imagine how high the sexual tension was between us when one of us accidentally came in on the other.

“I’m going to make you regret calling me an old man.” Bucky tells me as he backs me up against the wall of the shower. Hot water was coming down the stream and the air was already steamy. He licks a strip from the valley of my breasts up to my neck. I hold back the moan that so badly wanted to fall out.

He never made me regret a thing ; )

#Bucky Barnes #fatws bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #smut #marvel #the avengers #Sebastian Stan #y/n x Sebastian #y/n x bucky

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crescentsteel · 3 years

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Keeping a Secret - Part 6

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.1k

Part 5 || Part 7 || masterlist

[a/n]

I’m sorry for the slow update (As you know, I finished my other mini series last week and I was just a ball of exhaustion, until now tbh)

I think we’re halfway along the story now. I think. Lmao.

AO3 link is on the masterlist’s page.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

No one budges - not Tsukishima, not the team, not even you. You scram the insides of your brain, trying your absolute hardest to come up with a panic-stricken solution on how to remedy the carelessness brought by your surge of pride from winning.

You can feel your heart pounding on your chest. Or maybe it's Tsukishima’s against yours. You can’t tell at this point and you don’t bother trying to. You push your cognitive skills to its maximum as you strive to think for a fix for your current predicament.

Luckily, you’re not a university scholar for nothing.

You release Tsukishima and open your arms wide to the next person you lay your eyes on.

“Kyou-kun! Good job,” you manifest the joy on your face as you come up to Kyoutani for the similar hug you just gave Tsukishima.

Like Tsukishima, Kyoutani also stills when you embrace his perspiring body. Kyoutani is not a touchy person, but unlike Tsukishima, you know he’s fond of you. So he doesn’t push you away. Rather, he awkwardly pats you at the back.

“T-thanks,” he says with his low, raspy voice. You beam at him and move on to the next player until you’ve hugged all six on the court.

When you come back to the benches, there’s an organized line of the rest of the Sendai Frogs.

You blink quizzically for a few seconds, wondering why, until you realize that they’re waiting for their turn as well.

“Aww, you guys!” you gush dotingly at how adorable they are. Yet, you can’t indulge them.

“Maybe next time? You need to line up already,” you remind them. They all groan downcastedly, but Coach Mira castigates them immediately.

“What the hell are you all sighing for? You won. Stop dawdling around and fall in line over there, not here!”

The guys snap out of it and do as they’re told. Before Coach Mira joins them, she shoots up an eyebrow at you, probably looking for an explanation for your behavior.

“Sorry, Coach.” You chuckle as you apologize for getting the team a bit sidetracked, but provide no reason why you did so. “Won’t do it again,” you supplement the apology.

She lets it go casually and lines up with the team as well.

Once the match is officially done, you head over to the restroom. You enter one of the cubicles quickly and lock its door, you knock your head on it.

‘What is wrong with you, you dumb bitch!’ you lambaste yourself while staring at tiles with petrified eyes as you replay the scene again.

When you made the deal with Tsukishima, you were confident that there wouldn’t be problems with hiding what you two have. He is one of your athletes first and foremost; that hasn’t slipped out of your mind. Yet for one moment there, you blurred the line that you and Tsukishima had established.

You got cozy with him when you’re not in private--when you’re not supposed to. It was just a hug, but still, it was something when you’ve made the whole Sendai gymnasium your audience.

You’re the one who even assured Tsukishima that no one will know about your set-up. Tough luck, you’re also the first one to mess up.

You bang your head on the cubicle door again. The sound of your frustrated groan echoes through the whole bathroom. After a while, you take a deep breath and unlock the cubicle. You go back out to the halls.

When you turn left to head for the bus, you’re startled at the presence of the blonde that was just in your mind. Tsukishima is there, leaning against the wall next to the door you emerged from.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you exclaim.

“Tell me about it,” he replies with a straight face. Despite the nonchalance, you know there’s meaning behind his short retort.

You scan the area, looking for any other member of the team who might be present. When you see none, you drag Tsukishima outside to a secluded area at the side of the gym. Once there, you check around again just to be sure no one will pass by.

Tsukishima just watches you acting in distress, waiting for whatever it is you’re going to say. Obviously it’s important enough to you that you tugged him all the way here. Once you’re done confirming that the coast is clear, panic sets in your face.

You clutch his jacket and start lamenting. “I’m so stupid, Tsukki! Oh God. They’re gonna find us out. We’re screwed!”

He thought that you were just going to explain and apologize for your slip-up earlier. He was stupefied when you did it. He’d probably be giving you an earful right now had you not resolved your mishap before it became an object of inquiry to the others. Admittedly, he was still planning to scold you a bit. However, seeing you this freaked out about it makes him change his mind..

“I’m so sorry!” you go on as you drive yourself deeper to hysteria.

He can’t understand why you’re having this kind of reaction. You solved the problem. You hugged five huge, sweaty men to make up for it. That was a convincing distraction for testosterone-filled players who just won a match.

“Can you calm down? I do-”

“Maybe we should stop it already,” you suggest strongly, cutting him off as perturbation clearly clouds your judgement.

This throws him off. The idea didn’t cross his mind at all. He was just going to reprehend you to be mindful, not call off the agreement you two made.

He doesn’t mind it anymore - kissing you. Sometimes, they’re more enjoyable than he initially anticipated them to be. Most importantly, they’re harmless. They’re just meaningless kisses born out of what little attraction you two have for each other. No one is getting out of line. You don’t go beyond kissing. You both act like the deal doesn’t exist unless it’s just the two of you in your room.

That’s why he is willing to let your mistake go, apart from the fact that you were successful in covering it up.

But instead of contesting your suggestion, he says, “If you say so.”

Even though he’s accepted that kisses from you are allowable, if you want to back out from it, why the hell should he stop you?

“Right??” you persistently convince him even though he basically said yes already.

“Right,” he presses on as well to satisfy your apparent need for him to agree with you.

His answer effectively calms you down as you let go of his jacket and sigh a breath of relief. You swiftly regain composure and face him with your trademark sassiness. “Awesome,” you say with a reassured smile.

“You go ahead first so Coach won’t ask me to chew your ass for taking too long to get on the bus.”

“And you?”

“I’m the manager. I’m always the last to get on the freaking bus.”

He turns around and walks back to the bus. That’s strange. He thought you love taking advantage of every opportunity there is for you to pick on him. He might be wrong.

He can be sure about one thing though: you really are the manager who looks out for everyone, including him.

Maybe that’s why it bothers you so much. Above all else, you are their manager. So when you acted upon something other than such in the court, you lost your cool.

Oh well.

It’s not as if scrapping the deal off is a loss of any kind. He’s gained some sort of fun from it. That’s that. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Tsukishima knocks for the second time. He wouldn’t have bothered knocking since it’s your scheduled time to meet today, but he also doesn’t want to barge in without your permission. So he knocks again.

Sure enough, it opens this time. Yet, no one’s there to meet him.

“Tsukishima...”

His eyes drop further down to where your voice came from. You’re on your knees, your head faced down on the floor, and your arm reaching on the doorknob where your hand is latched onto.

What is it this time? What kind of antic will you throw his way? He waits for you to do something unearthly again, readying himself for anything you might surprise him with.

But nothing. You just stay where you are while he stands still.

You groan weakly and ask, “Did you not get my text?”

He slouches down and gets on your level, still not discarding the thought that you have a trick up your sleeve, and you’re waiting to spring it on him.

“What text?” He didn’t check his phone on the way here so he doesn’t know.

You lift your chin to face him while he anticipates your big reveal -- your comedic idea of the day -- but it doesn’t come. What greets him are your squinted eyes, almost beet red cheeks, and pale lips.

“Not today,” you struggle to say which comes out raspy and frail.

He instantly reaches for your forehead to confirm his speculation. His eyes widen with worry when his palm touches your skin. Even without a thermometer, he can confidently conclude that you’re sick. Not just sick, you’re burning with fever.

He looks behind you and sees your laptop open with a mug filled with brown streaks of fried liquid he can only assume to be coffee.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. You really won’t fucking stop at nothing even if you’re literally sick already.

He peels your hand off from the doorknob. He scoops your legs and waist with ease and stands up.

“H-Hey,” you protest. You’re gravely debilitated so you do not move at all aside from a hand feebly clutching his shirt for support. He kicks the door close and walks over to your bed.

“Do you have a fucking death wish, y/n?”

Even with his harsh tone, he’s extra careful to duck down from your top bunk because he’s too big for the damn thing. If he’s not mindful, he’ll surely bump his bed on the metal frame.

He delicately lies you down on your bed as he manages to sit beside you without hurting himself.

Your eyes are closed and your whole face screams of discomfort. Your mouth opens as you scuffle the words to come out.

“Go home. You’ll get...sick too. Game soon,” you whisper hoarsely.

As usual, you’re still thinking about the team. Is it always everything else before yourself? Don’t you really know how to take a fucking break? It’s an eyesore. Watching you slowly but surely deteriorate yourself is more taxing than handling your childish nonsense.

He’d love to give you an earful of his thoughts about your pressing behavior, but it’s not what you need to hear at the moment. “Who should I call to be here?” he asks instead.

You force your eyelids to open and look at him. “No one. I can take care of…,” you trail off as your eyes begin to flutter close again.

He can’t decide if it’s funny or foolish that you think you can take care of yourself when you can’t even finish your sentence. “Right,” he says, unable to help himself from sounding sarcastic despite your situation. It’s just so stupid how this easily could be avoided if you didn’t push yourself too hard.

He’s in no way responsible for you. He should just walk out like you said. You did this to yourself. There’s no reason for him to stay there.

Yet, he puts down his bag and takes off his jacket.

“Do you have a medicine kit?”

His question is no longer heard. You’re already passed out. He stands up and starts looking around your room for anything that resembles a first aid kit. If you do have one, you didn’t place it where someone can easily see it.

He sighs as he’s left with no choice but to go out and buy the stuff you need. He can’t possibly go through your things. It feels like an invasion of your privacy.

When he comes back from the pharmacy, he’s expecting that you’d ease up even a bit since you finally stopped working. But when he sits beside you again, he can see the same worrisome distraught wrinkling your pretty face.

Alt hough he doesn’t want to disturb you, he has to. He needs to feed you, get you to take medicine, wipe you with cool compress, chang e your clothes, then tuck you back in bed. After that, he still needs to stay to make sure your stubborn ass won’t get back to working once you feel a tiny bit better.

He feels all his facial muscles droop down at the amount of chores he needs to do for you. He really shouldn’t bother. He can just turn a blind eye and go home, leave you alone since you brought this upon yourself.

But there he is, tending to your needs for no substantive reason other than him being a decent person. Well, he’s already taken the first step, so screw it.

He can still work on his own uni requirements while he watches over you anyways.

Although you resisted a bit at first, your own lack of strength makes you give in to his attempt to cater to your sickly needs. The feeding and the medicine was an easy task. You were practically a lifeless doll and just went with whatever he tells you to do.

Now that he’s in your bathroom with a small basin of cool water and a small towel hanging on his shoulder, he contemplates on how to proceed with the next step: a sponge bath. He should just hand you the towel along with a new set of clothes, leave the room, then come back after a few minutes.

Because he is not doing it.

He won’t be undressing you and wiping your naked body. Just no. You should gather whatever energy you have left because you’ll be doing that all on your own.

He dips the towel in the basin and squeezes the excess water out of it. He puts the moist towel in a container and goes back to your bed.

“Hey, sit up for a bit.”

You groan softly, but does as you’re told. He puts the small plastic case with the towel on your bed and helps you get up. “I’ll get you a new set of clothes, then wipe yourself down,” he instructs you.

You let out one short hum of approval, so he goes to your drawers. He pulls the first shirt and bottoms he sees. As long as you have your blanket, it should be fine if you’re not wearing thick clothing.

When he turns around, he finds you holding the wet towel to your shoulder, completely still as you rest against the wall by your bed. You fell asleep with the towel soaking up your shirt.

“Crap,” he curses as he rushes back to you.

He places your fresh clothes to the side and hurriedly removes the towel off of you. He’s about to shake you back to consciousness but aborts his plan as soon as he touches your other shoulder.

You look like you really want to do it yourself as well. Even now, he can see minute movements from your fingers as if you’re still trying to follow his directions earlier.

Goddamn it. It’s really up to him now, isn’t it?

He glances at you one last time, thinking of another way out. If you hadn’t gotten your shirt wet, he would have ditched the sponge bath idea already. Now he’s left with no choice but to proceed with it.

Whatever. It’s just a human body for Christ’s sake. He shouldn’t be as alarmed as he currently is. He’s seen a female human body before. Yours should be no different.

He takes a deep breath and gently tugs up the shirt you’re wearing.

‘They’re just mammary glands,’ he repeats in his head but makes sure his eyes never land anywhere near the blob lump of fat on your chest.

He gets to work, brushing the cool towel starting on the sides of your face, then down to your neck. You must only be half-asleep because you lift your chin up a bit to allow him access to the column of your neck. He keeps his eyes on it as his hand travels down a bit further.

He spreads the coolness of the towel on your chest, but as soon as he feels a particular softness, drags his hands back up. With his hand still on your chest, he feels the pace of your breathing quicken a bit. When shoots his eyes up to your face, you’re already looking at him with dazed eyes and slightly agape mouth.

Beautiful. Too fucking beautiful for his liking.

It’s ridiculous. People are supposed to look like shit when they’re sick, not inviting.

A certain delicate temptation kicks in, urging him to back away a bit to reward himself with a quick sweep of your semi naked figure.

‘No,’ he grounds himself.

He’s not that barbaric. He’s not doing this so he has an excuse to ogle at you.

So why is he doing this?

With the turbulent thoughts reigning in his mind, he unknowingly squeezes the moist towel he’s holding against your skin.

The cool water drenching from his palm distracts him from his pondering. Reflex makes him look at his hand and involuntarily follows the slow trickle of water down the supple mount of flesh he’s been meaning to avoid looking at this whole time.

He realizes he’s been staring, but he’s too enthralled to stop. He lets his eyes wander further down, still watching how the droplet glides to your stomach. It gets absorbed by the fabric as it reaches down the waistband of your shorts.

The absence of the water he’s been trailing with his eyes snaps him out of his trance.

What the fuck is he doing?

He quickly moves on to your arms, patting your skin aggressively and haphazardly so he can finally get this cumbersome chore over with.

When you recover from this, he’s going to barrage you with a litany of fulmination on your self-destructive habits.

He’s supposed to wipe your thighs and legs too, but the idea is already tossed away as his train of thought is antagonizingly twisted today.

As fast as he can, he puts on the shirt he got for you. He was being gentle previously, but his priority at present is to cover up your exposed body away from his sight.

When he successfully clothes you, he gently lays you down again. He pulls the blanket to your shoulders and looks at your overall state.

You look a bit better now so he goes to your study table. He tidies up your stuff and puts them aside for him to set down his own.

Finally, he can get his shit done while he waits for your fever to go down.

He’s halfway through his elective course when he hears you whimper. He ignores it the first two times, but he hears it again louder the third time, he concludes something is wrong.

When he gets to your bed, you’re shivering frantically even with your blanket covering your whole body. He quickly searches for another one and piles it over the one you already have.

It only lessens your trembling but it’s still there. Your pretty face is still ruffled with unease. He touches your arm and finds out that you’re shaking way worse than you look.

In just seconds, he slips inside the blankets and draws you in to provide you the body heat you might need. You desperately cling onto him, pressing your body to share what he silently offered. Your fingers that are clutching the back of his shirt are quivering. You sink your face on his chest with agitation, badly in need for an additional source of warmth.

His displeasure towards your self-negligence dwindles when he feels your trembling body against his. Yes, this might be your fault, but he’s certain you hate this more than he does. Not only are you in pain, but you probably see this as a waste of your valuable time. You brought this upon yourself, but you don’t deserve it.

He encases his arm on your waist and tugs you even closer. He lowers his body a bit and gently nestles your face on his neck so you can feel the direct warmth of his skin on your cheeks.

Within a few minutes, you begin to relax within his embrace. The tremors become less and less until your fingers on his shirt loosen up.

You faintly pull back to look at him. “Sorry, Tsukki,” you mumble groggily with forlorn eyes.

“Shut up,” he utters without any trace of hostility as he cups the back of your head and buries your face on his neck again.

Your grip on him slackens but you don’t let go. You ease into him with your breathing getting even and your heart beating softly against his chest. When your chills completely fade away, he’s left with nothing but the softness of your body within the confines of his touch.

He becomes more aware of your bodies tangled against each other now that you’re completely still. The plumpness of your breasts are pinned on him. Your ample lips are grazing his neck. His pinky and ring fingers are hovering just below your spine, almost touching the curve of your behind.

To make things worse, you begin letting out small moans of succor which he can hear only because you’re too close.

He should be immune to this. He’s already had his fair share of kisses with you and sometimes, it involves a lot of touching. However, it is never as intimate as this. The furthest you two have gone was when he slipped a hand underneath your shirt before your friend barged in.

Before today, he had never seen your bare body. He had never held you to the point that almost your every curve melds with his. He has never thought about what it’d be like to do more than just making out. Only now when you’re not even doing so.

He considers himself a level-headed person driven by logic and rationality, but for crying out loud, your thigh is nudging on his crotch as if challenging his self-control.

As much as he wants to keep himself in check, his own body betrays him when his dick starts to nudge back at your right thigh.

‘Breathe in, breathe out,’ he reminds himself repeatedly to calm himself down.

“Hmmm,” you snuggle even more on his neck, your moist lips tracing his skin before you press it on him as you relax even further.

Fuck.

The shameful tent in his pants is becoming painful on his jeans as his imagination runs wild. How will you sound if it's the other way around, if it's his lips that’s traveling on your neck? How will you react if it’s his palms kneading the supple flesh pressed against his chest right now? Would you blush a deeper shade of red than the one you’re wearing if he slams his…

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t decide who is more sick: you or him, who’s lusting over you despite your situation. His plan to chastise you for your own inattentiveness for your own health is back in action. He’ll make sure it's ingrained into that irresponsible, beautiful head of yours.

To distract himself from his inane fantasies, he forces himself to recall the scientific names of all the reptile species he’s aware of. And when he’s exhausted his mental list, he moves on to whatever animal species he can think of until he dozes off with you.

You haven’t opened your eyes yet, but as you regain consciousness, you can tell that you had an amazing nap. For the first time, you reap the benefits of a power nap. It feels like you slept for a complete eight hours or even more. You no longer feel sick. You celebrate the after effects of the nap, stretching your legs before you get up.

You look out your window and see that the light is still a dark shade of blue so you still have the whole evening to finish what you need to do.

When you turn your glance to your table, Tsukishima’s seated on the floor with his laptop in front of him.

Why is Tsukishima here? You texted him and called off your meeting today.

Something’s off.

You don’t really remember going to bed. You just remember doing one of your subjects when you heard someone knock.

“Tsukishima,” you call his attention urgently.

He turns to you, but you can’t see his eyes from the light reflecting on his glasses from his screen. “What time is it?”

He looks back to his laptop. “It’s 5 am.”

What?!

You didn’t take a nap. You fucking slept. A more horrid realization comes to you when you remember what happened before you did. You passed out and Tsukishima fixed you up.

Shit! He’s been telling you all the time to stop overworking yourself and he had to be there and clean up the mess you did to yourself.

You panic when he sits beside you. You sit properly, hands on your lap, pressed lips, eyes on the floor as you prepare yourself for a long, tedious arduous lecture from the blonde.

“Hey.”

You slowly turn towards him, anticipating the slew of curses about to unroll from him.

“Y-yes?”

You keep your eyes leveled on his chest, embarrassed of yourself for burdening him with your unwell ass.

Instead of speaking, he inserts a thermometer in your mouth, causing you to shoot your gaze up to him. Neither of you say anything and just hold each other’s stare until the thermometer beeps.

He takes it out of your mouth and checks your temperature.

“You’re okay now,” he announces, then starts getting ready to leave. “Don’t bother coming to training later or else I’ll tell Coach that I caught you extremely sick,” he threatens nonchalantly.

Your mind is running laps on how to process everything all at once, but you decide to deal with the most pressing one.

“Uhhhh..”

He glances at you, silently waiting for what you’re going to say, but you only gape at him as well.

What were you going to say again? Shit, you actually can’t remember what it is.

He disregards your quietness and proceeds to your door. “You should just stay in. One day of missing classes won’t cost you your scholarship,” he says before he closes the door behind him.

“Wait.”

He’s gone. It’s only then you remember you wanted to say thanks.

When you come back to the gym two days after, everyone expresses their worry about you. You assure them that you’re completely fine now. Even with the love and concern you are showered with, your eyes scan for someone who isn’t among the players in front of you.

There he is, dribbling the ball and is about to do a jump serve. Just before he tosses the ball in the air, he looks at your direction.

“Y/n?” Kogane’s voice pulls you back to them.

“What was that?” you ask because you didn’t hear whatever they were saying.

“He was asking if you’re really okay now,” Eiji says.

You nod enthusiastically. “So stop wasting your training time on me and practice instead,” you say with cheerful authority that they’re very pleased to hear again.

Once the crowd disperses, you spring your way to the middle blocker who didn’t welcome you back.

“Hello!” you greet him sprightly.

“What?” he asks with a bored tone.

You step closer to him for the next thing you’re going to say is for his ears only. “I really appreciate what you did the other day.”

Tsukishima sees the earnest, grateful expression on your face, but what grips his attention is how refreshed you look. You look brighter than you usually do.

He was almost sure that you were going to ignore what he said about going absent on both in classes and in here, but you seem to have taken his advice with how well-rested you are.

But most of all, he didn’t expect you’d bring it up during your working hours. Neither of you talks about what happens in private when you’re the ‘Sendai Frogs’ manager,’ not his classmate, or occasional kiss-buddy .

“I don’t,” he responds vacuously to your thankful sentiment. It was a very tough night for him. When he woke up, his erection was still raging through his pants. As undignified as it was, he got himself off in your comfort room just to ease the unbearable sexual tension that was still there in the morning.

As usual, you don’t take offense from his sour remark. You chuckle whole-heartedly and pat him hard on his shoulders. “Of course you don’t,” you say mirthfully before you walk over to Coach Mira.

It was a very tough night you made him endure, but he’s relieved to see you back on your feet.

The team is going to the fourth match of the regular rounds. Three more after this and you get the chance to have a game from the bottom two teams from Division 1.

As you and the team march towards the court, you hear someone call Tsukishima.

“Tsukki!”

You look at whoever it is and stop when you see Kotarou Bokuto, the wing spiker of MSBY Jackals, crazy energy on court, super clean line shot.

He’s waving energetically at Tsukishima while the latter just nods at him. You grab Tsukki by his shirt and stop him from advancing any further.

“You guys go ahead. We’ll be there in a sec,” you tell Kogane who’s the person in front of you. He nods at you then walks off with the rest of the team.

“Why did we stop?” Tsukishima asks with a frown.

“How do you know Bokuto?” you ask.

“I used to train with him during high school,” he says like it’s nothing because to him it really is not a big deal. Bokuto and Kuroo practically coerced him to join their free practices when he already wanted to call it a day. Training with them was a drag - a drag that pushed him to become a better blocker.

Among the four of them who regularly practiced in the third gym, it was him and Bokuto who went professional. Even if the wing spiker is in a higher division, he still sees Bokuto as the same person who told him it only takes one hit to be hooked on the sport. Bokuto just got better at it.

Other than that, he still seems like the silly guy Tsukishima knows him to be.

“Can you introduce me?” you say as you try to hide the zeal in your eyes, but horribly failing to do so.

“Shouldn’t I go warm up?” he counters instead of responding to your question.

“I promise to be very nice to you in the three succeeding training days. Introduce me, please, ” you beseech graciously at him, insistent on meeting the athlete.

“Make it five days,” he tests to see your conviction.

But you easily agree, “Deal!”

Seeing that you won’t let this go easily, he thinks it would be better to just give you what you want.

You both walk over to where Bokuto is. Beside him is another part of the third gym, Kuroo, who’s now the official promoter of the Volleyball Association.

“Hey hey hey, Tsukki!”

“Hey,” the lack of enthusiasm in his response totally contrasts Bokuto’s. “This is-“

“Hi!! I’m Y/n, Tsukishima’s manager,” you cut him off which makes him jolt. Why even bother asking him to introduce when you’re more than capable of doing it yourself?

You grab Bokuto’s hand and shake it vigorously. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” you dramatically state, your eyes twinkling with idolatry.

Bokuto, as expected, is exceedingly glad from the adoration. He uses his two hands to shake yours and reciprocate the same energy you gave him.

“I’m such a huge fan. Personally, you’re my favorite player from Division 1. I don’t care what others say. That chest bump. Flawless save!” you drag on, endlessly showering the spiker with compliments which Bokuto is totally eating up.

He’s egging you up even more by constantly nodding, laughing, and agreeing in everything you’re saying.

Meanwhile, Kuroo and Tsukishima are just standing there watching the whole exchange.

“I’m sorry if this is a stretch, but can I hug you?” you ask almost like a tame puppy.

He’s been disregarding the entire conversation, but really? A hug? Have you no shame? Not that he cares but should you be ogling at another athlete when you’re wearing the uniform of Sendai Frogs?

Great. Go worship a big brawny dude from Division 1 minutes before your own team’s game. How thoughtless.

He imagined it would be a civil hug but then you open your arms to Bokuto and envelop him in the warmest hug he’s ever seen you give. His eyes drop to Bokuto’s limbs which are ensnared around your waist as the spiker hauls you closer to his body.

How imprudent. It was a mistake bringing you to Bokuto. You should have known it’s unwise to mix up your personal agenda with your work. You should have known that it was better if you just ignored Bokuto and made him warm up, than make him introduce you to your favorite player.

What is wrong with you?

Kuroo’s attention slips from you to Tsukishima’s change of demeanor. Tsukishima is usually unbothered, but as soon as you embraced Bokuto, Tsukishima’s mood became sour. It is an amusing sight to watch.

He never thought Tsukishima would associate himself with an individual as lively as you. But who could blame him?

He, himself, has just been watching since you fanned the ego of his old buddy. You have not graced him even a glance since you approached them. Your eyes were all set on Bokuto. You’re probably not aware that another presence is also there.

So he’ll make you be aware.

“Ehem,” he clears his throat to grab your attention, which works as you shift your gaze from Bokuto to him. “Hello,” he flashes you the best smile he has, but has no effect whatsoever at you.

The difference in treatment is drastic. While you revere Bokuto with adoration, you regard him like a nuisance. It’s not that palpable, but it’s there. You look at him like he’s an obligation to deal with.

Your smile is rehearsed and so is the cheerful “Hi” that you give him.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he introduces as he offers his hand. You take without hesitation, firmly gripping his extended hand for a brisk, professional handshake.

“Y/n, manager of the Sendai Frogs,” you respond in an amicable, yet refined manner. He gets his business card from his pocket and hands it to you.

“So, Miss Manager, how are the Frogs doing?” he asks to strike up a conversation.

You scrutinize his business card for a quick while then pockets it. “I believe as their manager, I, myself, represent the team more than my words can. So what do you say, Mr. Promoter?” The professionalism chips off and reveals a real slice of you - sly and mischievous, as you compose your stature and put a hand on your hip, accentuating your curves.

He crosses his arms as he eyes you from head to toe without any reservation, then back up again.

“I say the Sendai Frogs are looking hot this season,” he says with his own grin that’s just as devious as yours.

“There’s your answer then,” you give him a wink that almost makes his heart flutter.

‘Geez, lady. Take it easy on unsuspecting men,’ he thinks to himself but easily recovers as his grin spreads out.

“Oy, we should be getting back,” Tsukishima says, breaking Kuroo’s trance towards you. You snap out of it as well, agreeing with Tsukishima as you give the blonde a nod.

“It’s so nice to really meet you, Bokuto,” you tell Bokuto before turning around. Even though you’re treating Kuroo as if he doesn’t exist, he can’t help but be intrigued even more by you.

“Bye, y/n,” he says a bit loudly for you to hear since you’re already a few steps away from them.

You’re about to look back but Tsukishima puts a hand on your shoulders and starts talking to you. Kuroo would have disregarded it, but he doesn’t miss the quick glare Tsukishima throws at Kuroo and Bokuto. What’s even more eye-catching is how Tsukishima’s hand travels down a bit on your back.

You don’t take notice of it though. It might because you’re preoccupied or because you genuinely don’t mind. But for Tsukishima to do so, it’s a different story altogether.

“Hey Bokuto, did you see that?” he turns to his friend.

“Uh huh. She’s so pretty!” Bokuto squawks out, obviously not catching what Kuroo did. Kuroo just lets it go since it wouldn’t really do much even if he tries to explain. He looks back at you and agrees with Bokuto instead.

“Yeah, very pretty.”

Even though you’re the one who broke off the deal, you still feel the urge to kiss Tsukishima at times. He does too. You notice the way he glances at you briefly then returns to his work as soon you catch him.

It’s not awkward. There’s none of the tension-filled air, probably because you’re both aware that the impulse is there. You just silently agreed to dismiss it.

It’s all good though. It’s for the best. You don’t want another slip-up like the one from the Jaguars’ match. What’s weird is that even though you’re no longer making out, it feels like nothing has changed.

You still sit beside him. He still lets you lean on him. He still lets out nasty side comments but he’s not as rancorous as they used to be.

“You’re spacing out again,” he points out.

“That’s cause I’m done, Tsukishima,” you counter immediately while still gazing at your window across you. “Anyways, I’m gonna nap,” you announce.

He stops typing and looks at you. That’s weird. He’s always the one strenuously suggesting that you take a break when you’re feeling tired. What gives?

“Are you sick?” A bubble of unwarranted concern rises within him from your sudden inclination to take a nap.

“Oh, no. But I’m going to a party later so I need to recharge a bit.” You head to your bed and start straightening out the crumpled bedsheets.

Party? Are you out of your fucking mind? You could rest instead, make the most out of the night by catching up on sleep. But you’d rather attend a pointless party? Here he thought you were being thoughtful of your own health.

Not to mention, there might be perverts getting their hands all over you again. Obviously you can protect yourself, but wouldn’t you prefer not having one ogling and harassing you?

“Mind enlightening me how a vomit-smelling gathering is of any benefit to you?”

“Mind enlightening why it’s any of your business?” you retort instantly.

“It’s not,” he responds just as swiftly. “I’m just curious because I honestly don’t get it,” he says calmly. If you want to go to the damned party, then by all means. He really doesn’t care what you do with your free time.

“If you’re so worried, Tsukishima, you’re very welcome to come,” you tell him, mockery dripping from your invitation.

“I’d rather not,” he says dryly.

You shrug as you slip under your blanket. “Lock the door when you leave.”

“Unbelievable,” he mutters.

‘Truly unbelievable,’ he tells himself again as the smell of cigarette and alcohol tickles his nostrils while he sits at the bar, mulling over whatever the hell possessed him to come there.

It definitely isn’t because of you.

He’s not looking for you either nor is he worried about you.

It’s worse than he remembers. There are more people than last time and the music is banging on his eardrums.

“Are you getting anything?” the bartender asks him.

Although he absolutely detests alcohol, he feels like punishing himself tonight for lack of better judgment in coming there.

“Your worst drink.”

Even though you slept that afternoon, you still don’t plan on staying out too long for the party. You just wanted to catch up with some uni friends and instead of meeting them all one by one, it would be efficient if you attend this party and meet them all at once.

Although you would prefer if you just slept or watched a documentary, you think it’s necessary for you to be here. You almost don’t have any time to spend with friends. This might be your last chance to do so since it’s almost graduation.

As usual, you avoid drinking since you hate dealing with hangovers. You learned that the hard way when you had to keep up with who’s scoring points in an official match while an invisible hammer pounds your head.

So, despite the endless free shots given to you, you persistently decline. You also did not pay much attention to the dance floor to save your energy.

After a while of talking to everyone you know, you look around to check if you missed anyone. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a familiar blonde slouching by the bar.

‘ No. It’s not possible ,’ you say to yourself but you’re already smiling hard as you saunter to where he is. It’s very unlikely that it’s him but on the rare chance that he is, you’re not going to let it slip by.

He’s facing down his glass which is joined by two empty shot glasses. You lean back with both your elbows on the counter.

“You new here?” you playfully ask. If it’s not who you think it is, you’ll just dance awkwardly to throw him off.

“I actually am,” he says as he encircles the rim of his glass with his index finger. Then he raises his face to turn to you.

When he reveals his face, you confirm that it is indeed Tsukishima, but at the same time, he looks nothing like his usual self.

The tips of his ears up to his neck are burning red while his eyes are dazed like you’ve never seen them before. But that’s not the weirdest thing.

He’s smiling. He’s fucking smiling like a happy idiot.

“Tsukishima?” you ask him for confirmation in any case that it’s just someone who looks extremely like him.

“Hmmm?” he asks with a little bit of a slur that throws you off.

As if you’re not astounded enough by the scene unfolding before you, he grabs you by the waist and lugs you until you’re situated between his thighs.

“Who did you think it was, manager?”

Part 5 || Part 7 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq @yongboxerrr @gomenpudding @kutiekoge @fizzfrick @flamingosis @korean-bbq @ihaterainbowsprinkles @red-lint @backtonormalthings @borpcorp @lonelyheartxn

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader

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secretlittlerandezvous · 3 years

Text

Explanations - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Y/n is an actress and the press likes to share rumors about her. One day Matthew sees pictures of her, and some other guy and he decides that making her jealous is the best way to deal with things.

Note: Requested by my love and written with love for my @star-gazing-game 💘

Words: 2150

Nothing was going right. Ever since Matthew woke up in the morning troubles seemed to follow him everywhere. He spilled hot coffee all over himself, burned his hand while preparing his breakfast, forgot his hockey gear on the way to the ice rink and when he returned home for it, he got stuck in traffic. Y/n was coming home after a few weeks of living in New York and he was strangely nervous about it though he had no reason to worry. Things were great between them; he was crazy for her and it seemed like she was crazy for him as well. But he felt like he needed to do something special to welcome her home but didn’t know what. She didn’t even like surprises.

When he returned home, this time hopefully for good he decided it’d be for his best to just sit down and watch tv and do nothing. He wasn’t the type to sit around and be lazy but from time to time he needed a break and he certainly deserved some rest after the morning’s events.

“Actress Y/n L/n was spotted out and about in New York and it sparked some exciting news,” Matthew immediately turned up the volume of the tv when he heard his girlfriend’s name and with excitement watched the news. “Y/n was spotted with her co-worker and they seemed to be pretty close. The actress hinted a relationship a few weeks ago and ever since then, the fans wanted to know who the lucky and mysterious guy was. Well, they look pretty good together what do you think guys?”

Matthew stared at the screen in shock, the color drained from his face, he had trouble breathing and he felt heartbreaking pain as he scanned the pictures carefully. There she was, Y/n, his girlfriend and her co-worker happily walking around the streets of New York, hand in hand and smiling widely at each other. In one picture it seemed like he leaned down to kiss her cheek but to protect himself Matthew decided the guy probably just whispered something into her ear. Matthew was doing his best to stay calm and not to panic, surely there was an explanation to this situation, and he wanted to believe they were just close friends and nothing more. But the harder he tried the more doubts and questions came to his mind and after a while he found himself questioning every moment from their meeting to this crushing moment.

Y/n and Matthew met almost four months ago during a Christmas event in Calgary, a common friend introduced them, and they hit it off right away. It wasn’t love at first sight, but they found each other familiar as if they met before. They shared common interests and the same opinions on dozens of different things, he made her feel safe and calm which was new for her because whenever she was seeing someone she became a nervous wreck and she could never relax and she made Matthew laugh like no other girl before. Matthew asked Y/n to be his girlfriend just two weeks after they met, and she jumped around his neck and kissed him hundreds of times before she said yes. Quite nervously she then asked Matthew if they could keep their relationship private for a while. Y/n wanted the media to focus on her new movies and not on her love life and she was worried that once the media would found out about it they would do their absolute best to dig up some dirt on both of them. Matthew understood her reasons and he agreed. Y/n was relieved he was so understanding, and Matthew was glad because he himself wanted to keep it lowkey to avoid unnecessary drama.

But now he saw things in a completely different light. What if he was just a distraction, a replacement, and someone to have fun with when she was in Canada and her real boyfriend was waiting for her in the states? What if she wanted to keep their relationship a secret so she could have fun with anyone without being caught? He wanted to call her and confront her, send her the pictures, and ask for an explanation and at the same time, he wanted to pretend she didn’t exist and forget about her.

That evening Matthew decided to have a good time. If she could hang out with other men, he certainly could do the same. It was Friday, they had no game and the boys gladly accepted his invitation to go to a club. He had various reasons to go there. The main one was to make Y/n jealous. He knew there was a high chance of pictures and videos of him having fun with other girls would appear across social media. Another reason was to drown his sorrows in alcohol and another one was to have at least a little bit of fun that day. The music was sensual and loud, the club was crowded to the absolute maximum and as soon as the girls found out he was a hockey player they were all over him. Exactly what he needed.

Especially one girl caught his eyes. A girl with golden skin that glowed in the neon lights, her brown curly hair framed her face nicely and her eyes were full of lust and she shamelessly flirted with him and hinted a few times she was available if he was interested. With each sip of his drink, he got closer to her until she was pressed against his body completely and they danced like one person. He liked it and to his horror, he enjoyed every move, every touch, and every smile she gave him. She was tempting him, and he had a hard time resisting her. And maybe because she noticed something was holding him back or maybe she was just tired of waiting she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him down closer to her, and eagerly kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back at first, but she didn’t stop, and he soon wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her back.

“Finally,” she murmured against his mouth with a satisfied smile and continued kissing him until he pulled away and took a few steps back. “What?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry this was a mistake.” He hoped she would forgive him because he didn’t like it when someone was angry at him, but it was too late. She was already angry and mostly disappointed she wasn’t going home with him.

Matthew said goodbye to the boys, called a taxi, and wanted to get home as fast as possible. He couldn’t wait to go to bed and forget about the whole day. The next day Y/n would arrive, she would explain the pictures to him, and they would continue in their relationship as if nothing happened.

The following morning Y/n arrived in Calgary, called, and texted Matthew a million times but he wasn’t responding. The plan was to go to his apartment immediately but after she learned about his last night’s affair, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. The curiosity however won, and she decided to go to his place and demand a reasonable explanation for his actions. Her whole body hurt, her hands were shaking, and she had a hard time holding the tears back. Y/n was on the plane, on her way to Calgary when she opened Snapchat and saw stories from one of his teammates. At first, she laughed at Matt’s silly dance moves, but the smile quickly disappeared when she saw the video of Matthew and some girl dancing body on body. Y/n was willing to forgive him for the dancing, but it was the heated kiss she couldn’t ignore. The kiss that broke her heart.

“Y/n?” Matthew was surprised when he opened the door and found her standing there. Sad and tired. He himself just woke up, his head hurt badly and the regrets of last night were taking over him slowly but surely. “Oh my - I’m sorry I completely forgot. Come in.”

She didn’t even look at him and with doubts entered his apartment. The welcome was cold. Y/n imagined there would be music playing, a breakfast waiting for her, and most importantly she couldn’t wait to see his open arms and hug him. “Care to explain this?” She said loudly with all seriousness and showed Matthew the video of him and the girl.

Matthew’s face got even paler, he felt sicker than before and he couldn’t believe he did it last night. But then he remembered the reason he did it and decided to fight back because he wasn’t going to let her yell at him when she wasn’t innocent. “I’ll explain it but first you should explain this me this?” He said and reached for his phone and showed her the pictures that haunted him. “Maybe this is the real reason you wanted to keep our relationship a secret?”

“Oh god,” Y/n laughed. “Seriously? And you believe this? We did a movie together for God’s sake! These pictures are from a scene, the last scene we shot. The paparazzi sold them to the media as hot news, as if they caught us in real life which is utter bullshit!”

“Really?” He asked but it was more from the relief that she most likely wasn’t cheating on him.

“Yes, yes really!” She yelled. “I can’t believe you believed it! And that you thought I would do this to you! And you didn’t even have the guts to ask me about it.”

“Y/n, baby I’m sorry alright? I am. I panicked, I was jealous, and I acted like a complete asshole.” He admitted. “I wanted to make you jealous, but I never meant to take it this far I swear. I pulled away from her because I quickly realized it was a mistake and I rushed home.”

She was angry and hurt but too tired and very happy to be finally with him that she couldn’t help but forgave him almost right away. Y/n knew him, she knew he acted foolishly whenever something bothered him, and she could tell he truly regretted it.

“Alright,” she nodded and then rested her head on his chest, wrapped her hands tightly around him, and looked at him with love and no anger. Y/n wasn’t going to lose him, especially not because of some rumors and the press or because of some random girl in a club.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once again and kissed her forehead. His hand found hers and they intertwined their fingers and squeezed them tightly.

He kissed her once more this time on her lips, just a gentle and loving kiss before he pulled her into his lap so she sat on him and he pressed his head against her shoulder, hiding in the corner of her neck and shoulder and pressing gently kissed on her soft skin. Y/n let out a deep breath and released all emotions at once and she finally relaxed and threw all her problems away. His heart was beating faster, and she felt butterflies in her stomach and they both felt relieved to be finally in each other’s arms. Y/n could never hold a grudge against someone for too long, but she knew Matthew didn’t deserve such quick forgiveness. But what was he supposed to do? She was too happy to be with him and she understood his feelings but he still should’ve asked her instead of chasing girls at a club to make her jealous. Matthew sensed the confusion and he was ready to do whatever it would take to deserve the forgiveness.

“What can I do baby?” He whispered.

Y/n shook her head in response because she didn’t have enough strength to talk. Matthew stroked her hair and held her close to him worried she would leave him.

“I promise I didn’t want to take it this far,” he started explaining. “I wanted to have some fun, but this was not supposed to happen.”

“I know,” she whispered and smiled at him.

“You’re the most precious person I know, and I hate that I did this to you,” he said with a hope she would melt under his words. “And I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

His hand then cupped her face, stroked the soft skin of her cheek making her look him in the eyes so she would know he was being honest and in the next moment he leaned closer and kissed her. Y/n truly melted under his words and mostly under his touch and she decided that all the love she felt for him was stronger than her hurt ego and she could always deal with it later. But that day she allowed herself to be happy and to enjoy being back with her loving boyfriend.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk writing #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames one shot #calgary flames writing #calgary flames imagines #nhl players imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl one shot #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #hockey writing #hockey imagines

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eyayah-oya · 3 years

Text

Return to Me

Clone Ship Week | Day 6 | Post-Battle - @cloneshipweek

Cody/Rex

Rating: G

Warnings: mentions of Point Rain, canon typical violence, disgustingly cute happy ending

Ao3 link

Geonosis was just as awful as every vod had ever described. It was hot and dusty, of course, but Cody didn’t really care about any of that. It was the number of brothers he’d lost on the way to Point Rain, the hundreds more killed by the bugs and their weaponry, on top of all the droids that seemed to come in never-ending waves.

Cody and the rest of the 212th were going to join General Mundi and the 21st Nova Marine Corps on the other side of the planet while Rex and his men worked with Gree and the 41st under General Unduli. They would be taking on the enormous droid factory the next day, and Cody would not be able to help any of them. He would have his own mission to run.

There were hundreds of vod’e all over the fortified base they’d managed to find and set up camp in. Brothers from all four battalions mingled and shared increasingly exaggerated stories. Cody had spotted Corporals Fives and Echo talking to some boys from the 21st, and he’d seen the medics fussing over the injured vod’e and generals. But there was no sign of Cody’s cyare.

“Lieutenant!” Cody called to 2nd Lieutenant Jesse of the 501st.

Jesse snapped off a sharp salute. “Sir!”

“At ease, Lt. Have you seen Rex around recently?” Cody asked.

Thinking for a moment, Jesse slowly nodded. “I think I saw him over by the remaining gunships, sir. He was talking to General Skywalker about half an hour ago.”

Cody nodded and clapped the trooper on his shoulder. “Thanks. Make sure you take some time to rest, Lt. We’re in for a rough campaign.”

“Of course, sir. You do the same and see if you can get Rex to sleep, too.”

As Cody walked away, he chuckled to himself. Little brothers were getting uppity. At the start of the war, there was no way any trooper, let alone one from a different battalion, would have talked to him so casually. It was a testament to how well the men of the 501st were relaxing around their Jedi and learning how to be something besides soldiers. It was nice.

Cody prayed to whatever gods watched over clones bred for war that Rex hadn’t gone back up to the Resolute already. He needed to see Rex and make sure his cyare was alright. Too many vod’e were walking wounded, and even more were severely injured or dead. As much as he knew it was a real possibility, Cody did not want to ever consider a reality where Rex marched on ahead of him.

“Hey, Commander!” Commander Tano chirped from out of nowhere. She smiled up at him with bright eyes that hadn’t been weighed down by war yet. She still had hope and Cody prayed that she would never lose that. Yet another thing he prayed for to unknown gods.

“Hello, Commander.” Cody dodged a pair of vod’e carrying a crate full of supplies and glanced down at Commander Tano. “Can I help you with something?”

“Jesse said you’re looking for Rex? I know where he is! But we have to hurry before my Master pulls him away again.”

If Commander Tano was willing to help him find Rex, Cody was definitely not going to say no. Especially after the massacre they’d just faced. “Thank you, Commander,” he said, warm affection warming his chest briefly. “I appreciate it.”

Commander Tano waved away his thanks. “It’s no problem. I get it. Master Skywalker practically ran to Master Kenobi’s side as soon as we got here, and I know Jesse went to go find a batchmate of his from the 41st. Sometimes, you just need to make sure everyone’s alive.”

“That is very wise, Commander,” Cody said. He really shouldn’t be surprised, but in his mind, the Commander was just so young. She shouldn’t have insights into how war worked, and why they needed time to recuperate after a bad battle, if only to reassure themselves that their loved ones made it out alive or to mourn the ones that hadn’t.

There were far too many mourning vod’e.

“I have a great teacher,” Commander Tano said with a warm smile. “Rex said you taught him a lot of what he knows and he’s been passing some of that down to me. It’s helped me in some tough situations, so I should be thanking you, Commander.”

“No thanks necessary, Commander,” Cody managed to say without choking or giving away his emotions. Not that it probably mattered since Jedi were attuned to the people around them. Only General Kenobi had ever thanked him for anything, and Cody was convinced that his General would thank Ventress after she stabbed him with her saber. Karking di’kutla jetti.

“Anyway, Rex is over in that tent, hopefully taking a nap. Coric was threatening him earlier with sedation, so he might have followed through on that threat.”

And with that, Commander Tano skipped away, most likely to terrorize some poor shiny who wouldn’t know how to deal with an overly friendly shiny Jedi Commander. Cody privately wished he had a holo of their flailing. It would provide some good laughs in the future.

Cody strode over to the tent Commander Tano had pointed out, and knocked on the frame.

“Come in,” Rex called and something inside of Cody’s chest loosened.

He undid the fastenings and stepped inside, taking his bucket off immediately. Rex was sitting on the cot, a datapad in his hands, likely going over the initial casualty reports for the battle. Most importantly, he was very much alive.

“Rex,” Cody gasped out with a strangled breath.

Rex jerked at his voice and then a second later, Cody had his arms wrapped around his cyare, breathing him in as he held on as tight as he could.

“Cody! You’re okay!” Rex said. He pulled back to give Cody a sharp look. “You are okay, right?”

“Yes, I am. I didn’t end up getting injured. That was purely my General,” Cody said, trying for some dry humor but it fell flat in the face of their combined relief. “What about you? I heard you got thrown off a wall?”

“Karking Fives and Echo,” Rex growled. “General Skywalker and Ahsoka caught me, so I wasn’t hurt. Nothing beyond a few bumps and bruises.”

Cody ran his eyes over Rex’s body, as though that would tell him if Rex was hiding any injuries with the armor in the way. Once he verified that there wasn’t any gaping hole or crack in Rex’s armor, Cody dropped his helmet to the ground and pulled Rex into a bruising kiss. His cyare responded eagerly, clinging desperately to the hard, sharp planes of Cody’s armor. There was no finesse, no sweetness in the kiss. Just pure, heady relief and a desperation to prove that they really survived.

Rex gripped Cody’s hair tightly with one hand, the other wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as their armor would allow. He sucked on Cody’s bottom lip and gently nibbled before letting go and pressing his head against Cody’s in a soft keldabe.

“I was so worried when we heard that most of your gunships went down, including General Kenobi’s. You’re usually flying with him.”

“We decided to split our forces. It was a really close call a few times, but we made it. We both made it,” Cody answered. He was shaking from relief at having Rex in his arms, alive and unharmed. Nothing would ever be able to beat that heady feeling of overwhelming gratitude to whatever gods were listening. They’d listened to at least one of his prayers today.

“Stay alive tomorrow,” Cody demanded after a moment of just breathing each other in. “That factory is going to be really dangerous.”

“I know. Gree is a solid vod, though. He’ll have my back and I’ll have his. Plus, we have the Jedi to help keep us safe.”

Cody very carefully didn’t think about the many times General Skywalker had gotten men killed by doing something reckless or stupid. The R2 droid was not important enough to sacrifice his padawan, Rex, and three other men to General Grievous. Out of four, only Rex and Denal had made it back, and Commander Tano had nearly been killed by Grievous when she kept Grievous from killing Rex, all for a droid. Cody was skeptical, but he also had faith in Commander Tano and General Unduli and her padawan. They’d protect the men while Skywalker handled whatever crazy idea he had.

“We will be safe,” Rex said, giving Cody a shake. “While you’re off with the Marines, you should talk to Bacara. They’re out of contact with most of the GAR. Only Neyo and Jet can get through the blockades to deliver supplies and intelligence to Nova.”

A frown carved the worry lines on his face deeper as Cody absorbed that information. “I’ll talk to him. See what we can do,” Cody swore.

Rex nodded. “Good. He’ll keep you alive. Bacara already told me he’s planning on sharing all of my embarrassing ARC training stories to you while you’re on campaign together.”

Cody grinned. “I’ve been trying to pull those out of Neyo, Keeli, Thorn, and Thire for ages now. And Bacara’s the one to spill the beans?”

Rex grumbled and buried his face against the crook of Cody’s neck. “He said I don’t have enough blackmail material on him to keep him from blabbing. He also said I don’t scare him because, and I quote, “I’m as terrifying as a sleepy baby nexu cub buried in a pile of nip”.”

“That—is strangely accurate,” Cody choked out, laughing at Rex’s offended growl. “You’re a little prickly, but everyone knows you’re just a softy. I mean, you’ve been teaching Commander Tano what I taught you?”

His cyare shrugged. “She’s in the middle of a war, and she doesn’t have the training we do. I don’t want to see her die when I could have prevented it. Nor do I want to see my vod’e die because she makes a bad decision. I’m giving her all the tools she’ll need to be successful and survive this war.”

“You’ve adopted her.” Cody couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. Rex had always loved with all his heart, as evidenced by the numerous vod’e who loved him unconditionally. Of course, Commander Tano would have made the list. “If she’s yours, then she’s mine, too,” Cody said. “We’re in this together.”

Rex finally peeked his head back out from where he’d hidden it against the small sliver of skin on Cody’s neck. “Really?”

Cody didn’t hesitate. He nodded and bumped their foreheads together. “I promise.”

For the first time since their first kiss, Cody had the amazing opportunity to see Rex completely and totally flustered. He blushed bright red, sputtering and coughing as he tried to find something to say.

It took a few minutes for Rex to completely compose himself and then it was Cody’s turn to be flustered. “Are you asking me to be your riduur?”

“What?” Cody spluttered.

For a second, Rex faltered. But then he squared his jaw and firmed his spine as if he was facing the worst of odds in a battle. “We are one when together. We already do that, and have done that since we were cadets. We are one when apart. At this point, I don’t think there’s anything that could separate us, even when we’re fighting on opposite ends of the galaxy. We share all. We tell each other everything. You said it yourself. What’s mine is yours, too. We will raise warriors. We are raising Ahsoka together, since we share all. Not to mention all of our men that we’ve both trained since this war started. If that doesn’t count, I don’t know what would.

“So, are you asking me to be your riduur?”

As Rex laid out each point, Cody found himself agreeing. He and Rex were already married, they just hadn’t said the vows to each other yet. And honestly, there wasn’t a better time than now. Cody would rather be married to the love of his life for a few hours, then never have married him and watched him die in battle.

“Yes, Rex of Torrent. I am asking you to be my riduur,” Cody said, determination in every cell of his body.

Rex lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Cody, bringing their foreheads together. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde,” Rex swore fervently, his whole heart bared for Cody to see.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde,” Cody echoed the vow, offering Rex his heart with every breath.

They shared the same space for a moment, pressing into the keldabe more firmly before their lips brushed together. Like a firework had been set off in his bones, Cody tugged Rex into a passionate, over-whelming kiss that stole their breath away. He could feel his heart swelling with the amount of love he felt for Rex, bursting out from behind the dam he kept on his emotions most days. It rolled over him until the only thing he could think of was that Rex was alive, in his arms, and that they were now married. What more could Cody care for in that moment?

Eventually, air became a necessity, and they broke away from each other to breathe. Rex gave a soft chuckle. “You do realize that means you’re going to have to adopt Ahsoka, too, right?”

“YES! I get two dads AND Cody has to call me by my name now!”

“Shh, they can hear you, Soka.”

“Oops! Everyone scatter!”

Cody laughed. His heart couldn’t contain the joy he felt, and he would carry that joy throughout the war as a hopeful flame for when they could all have peace again. But in that moment, he had all night with his riduur, and Cody planned on making the most of it.

#clone/clone #cloneshipping #codex #cody/rex #captain rex #commander cody #ahsoka tano #getting together #soft and fluffy #mild hurt/comfort #cloneshipweek2021 #day 6 | post-battle

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misskittysmagicportal · 3 years

Text

The Joan Jett Quartet

Word Count: 2185

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy between S1 and S2 (Klaus x Reader)

Warnings: Where do I start? Swearing Graphic, filty smutty sex (NC-17). Consensual BDSM (choking and mild body mutilation) Loads of edging.

A/N: The warnings pretty much say it all. I’m putting the entire thing under a read more because oh boy. I have to say, I shocked myself.

@firstpersonnarrator @robertsheehanownsmyass @messengeronthemoon @super-unpredictable98 @rob-private @forenschik @bisexualnathanyoung @magic-multicolored-miracle

Book 1- Do You Wanna Touch Me There?

Klaus stared at the smooth wooden table in the middle of your room with his head cocked. One hand on a thin hip and his bottom lip turned down in thought. He wore only a pair of brightly colored bikini briefs.

“You’re just going to strap me to this table? Couple of questions.”

“Prophet this was your idea,” you informed him. Your hands spaced apart on the tabletop as you bent forward to display your cleavage in the satin and lace bra you bought just for this.

“Sure. Sure,” Klaus’s eyes widened briefly at your breasts. Then he waved his hand through the air and made his way around to you. “I did leave the rest up to you. Use your imagination and blah blah. Are you blindfolding me? Most importantly: handcuffs, ropes, or straps?”

“Again, Prophet, you confided in me that you were hoping to experiment with your level of comfort in bondage. “

“Surprise me! But can you stop calling me Prophet? A guy accidentally creates a cult and the reputation sticks for the next fifty-seven, but somehow also three years.” his brows knit together under the stress of trying to figure out his time-traveling.

You snorted, “I was playing a role. But look, Hargreeves, I've never done any of this shit. I thought you'd rather a more experienced dom beyond just some handcuffs and spanking. So if you have a request, I'm willing to improvise as we go.” Nerves plain on your face.

“Do you wanna try a modified version of this?” Klaus reached out and you settled into his arms. His finger traced the curve of your cheek. “You ask, and I'll tell.” His nose followed the same path.

Then Klaus’s hands roamed freely over your curves that embarrassed you most days. Your soft stomach and large hips kept you literally in the dark most times he came to you for sex. Your brain was always screaming that he just couldn't find anyone else, but your heart screamed back. He constantly grabbed a handful of your ass and relished massaging your stomach and kissing it. Your nudity and freedom once you got going turned him on.

“That's more my speed. . I'm sure once we get going,” your hand teased the bulge in his underpants, “I'll get the hang of it.” You squeezed harder and relished Klaus’s body spasm. “But first we might need reinforcements from you brother.”

“Diego?!” Klaus squeaked. “For what?” he was nervous and you loved that too.

“Well now. That was a quick answer, wasn't it? It's only to tie you down if you choose rope “ You continued the friction on his cock.

Klaus’s mouth hung open to let a moan escape. “The straps? Reminds me of this one time Reginald had me committed, and honestly the surprise that beefcake orderly got when he-”

“Did I ask for a fucking diatribe, Klaus?” you grabbed his face under the chin. “And how do we ask for what we think we want?”

Excitement blazed in his eyes, “The straps, please?”

“If you behave. Strip and get on the table,” you demanded. “Get all fours.” You dug your nails into his cock causing him to gasp. You started to find some authority.

Klaus eagerly obeyed. Once naked, he climbed up onto the wooden surface on his hands and knees. You followed suit and, also naked, got on behind him in a kneeling position before you grabbed the back of his neck and roughly pushed his face down onto the table the way he had done to you in the past. Your hand on the back of his head tightened in his hair and pulled. The free hand slid between his ass where you got your sharpened nails into his balls before they dragged up the shaft of his hardened cock.

“Fuck,” escaped from Klaus’s mouth muffled by his hair and the table.

As you clawed at the erection, the grip on the back of his head intensified. You yanked it upwards so that he was bent back awkwardly, “Did I fucking say you could talk?”

Klaus merely whimpered in reply as you released his hair and started to squeeze his throat instead. The harder you jerked him off, the further into his skin you buried your nails. His body twitched but he remained silent even though you could tell he found it difficult.

Now you raked a hand down the center of his back. Hard so that you saw yourself break skin on the way down to his ass, still working his cock from underneath. Once down to his waist, you let go of his junk and steadied yourself with those claws now anchored in his thin hips.

“How many fucking times has a man told us face down ass up?” Klaus writhed a bit beneath you.

It was a rhetorical question. you settled so that he could feel your wet sex on his ass as you slammed into him. That same rhythm men found when they wanted it doggy style. You weren't comfortable with a strap-on yet, so hoped this made do.

It was just the motion that got to Klaus. You ramming him back and forth into your body so that every time your cunt hits him. Like you were riding his ass. The power coursing through you. Impressed with how he kept his forearms on the table bent forward into a prayer position.

You let go of a hip and reached around to grab hold of his cock again. Nails scraped along the shaft harshly, and you stopped bucking against him all together. You opted for now laying over him with your tits pressed to the middle of his back. Even though his breathing was heavy he maintained a silence.

Klaus’s cock pulsated in your hand as it worked a frenzy. You had done this enough to know that he was on the verge of cumming. Seconds later you abruptly stopped and got down from behind him.

“Get on your back,” another command that he obeyed. Then “Put your arms up behind your head.” So that you could strap them in the cuffs. Except he was right, they resembled the restraints most often used in hospitals and psych wards.

You tightened the restraints as hard as you could and the air hitched in Klaus’s throat. A smirk of satisfaction crossed your lips as you repeated the process on his ankles. He didn't ask for whips and chains, just what you were willing to do. Metaphorically busting his balls was enough of a turn on.

Now your comfort included situating yourself so that your cunt hovered over Klaus’s face. You leaned forward with knees on his shoulders. His heavy, hot breath driving your sex to throb but you ignored it as you raked your nails from his stomach up to his chest. He cried out and temporary disobedience led him to push his tongue inside the hood of your cunt. The tip expertly found your clit and his arms struggled against the restraints.

White hot anger flared in you from nowhere at his insubordination. Your fingers pinched and tugged at his nipples, twisting them roughly. A strangled laugh mixed with a yelp escaped Klaus beneath you.

“Did I fucking say give you permission to touch my clit?” you lost yourself and twisted harder. “SPEAK!” you yelled.

“No y/n!” he cried into you.

You let go of his chest and continued to hover but raised yourself higher to make the temptation greater but follow-through harder for him. Again raking your nails as vicious as possible then got your hands on his engorged cock. There was an untapped fury to the way you started jerking him off. Nails clawed, squeezed and worked up and down. You shifted more of your weight on his shoulders and bent to start biting at his chest. There you didn't break the skin, but the blood vessels underneath soon became purple with bruises.

It didn't take long of you aggressively jerking him off for Klaus to start his pre-cum pulsating. Or becoming slick with just that as you licked at the head of his cock. His moaning uncontrollable at this point as his body flexed against the straps.

This whole situation was just as difficult for you. It was taking extreme discipline to not just sit on him and ride. Which you will, but you wanted to edge him a little more. Your body vibrated because of newfound power combined with Klaus’s hair and goatee brushing your thighs and cunt.

You caught yourself from allowing him to use his tongue and mouth to satisfy you. Instead crawled over him so that Klaus got an eyeful of your ass and sex until you could turn around and kneel between his legs.

You crouched over to place his cock in your cleavage. Uncertain for the first time since you got started. You clutched his hips as you started up at him. “Fuck them”

“What?” he craned to look at you.

“I said, your dick is there. Fuck. My. Tits” Emphasising each word with a forward thrust motion.

Klaus arched an eyebrow but eagerly obliged. His hips started to buck up and down swiftly, cock pushed forward towards your face and then back again. He repeated rhythmically. . It impressed you how he managed despite his struggle with the straps to get his body off the table enough to create friction. His taut stomach came into contact with your mouth. You nipped and licked at it and he growled louder than his moans.

Suddenly you sat back on your haunches to hover above Klaus’s erection like you had his mouth. One hand braced on his scratched and bruised chest as you lowered yourself down. The other gripped his cock and settled it between the folds of your sex allowing the head to hit your clit. His hips bucked instinctively and you twisted his nipple again.

“I didn't say fucking move,” but your body did.

You rocked back and forth a few times to allow for that bundle of nerves to be hit just right. A sliver of tongue darted out from between Klaus’s lips before he bit one and scrunched his face up in pleasure. His breathing was erratic when you bent down to force your tongue inside his mouth. A sharp intake as he swallowed you and fought back. Your body rocked quicker still on his cock.

Then you stopped and Klaus audibly whimpered into your mouth. “This is the FOURTH time you almost blew your load. I'm not fucking ready so you don't get to be either. Now be a good boy and tell y/n what you want most “

“I want to fuck you,” plainly.

You slapped him shocking yourself and him. Klaus wore a mask of humiliation, but excitement shone in his trusting green eyes. The faintest hint of a smirk on those full lips.

“Choke me,” he begged.

“How do we fucking ask, NUMBER FOUR?” you bellowed and yanked at his erection.

“PLEASE, y/n! CHOKE ME, PLEASE!” His body writhed in your hands.

You wrapped your hands around his thick throat. Your curved fingernails drove into it and squeezed harder and rougher than you knew you were capable of. The revelations continued to come to light and pleased you as you finally sank down on his cock at the same time.

“How do you want this, Klaus?” it hands gripped tighter.

“Harder,” his voice cracked. “Please”

“If it's too much, Prophet, just say.. Reggie,” you cackled at your own joke before you caught yourself. “But really that's the safe word.” He nodded eagerly.

So you indulged and crushed his neck as best as you could with your small hands on his muscular neck. You pumped your body as fast and quick as you could. Klaus writhed under your hands and cunt. His throat turned red and then purple, veins and muscles popped as the blood in his face drained.

Your body slammed up and down repetitively on Klaus’s. His cock deep inside as you twisted your hips when your bodies came together. Over and over your bodies pounding together with you tightening even harder. You angled yourself so his shaft hit your clit, wishing you could help yourself. Frustration and that building heat helping you bare down.

It wasn’t long before Klaus exploded inside of you and minutes later you joined him screaming out his name with eyes shut and thighs clenched around his waist. There was no response making your eyes fly open. You remembered and dropped your hands from around him.

Blood rushed back to his beautiful angular face. Klaus began to giggle. A loud boisterous laugh filled the bedroom where the two of you were as if he couldn't help it anymore. Your shoulders sank with embarrassment; his giant sparkling green eyes danced with approval, and you felt relief with a smile.

“There really is nothing like strangulation to make a sick bastard like me cum harder than he has in ages.” Klaus made a roaring noise as he shook his head like a dog. “How do you feel about whips?”

#Robert Sheehan #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader #man hazel and cha cha would be disgusted #reader wouldn't waterboard klaus if he begged on hot coals #LOL #robert sheehan character fics

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pseudofaux · 3 years

Note

enju and gekkamaru. romantic, passionate, WHATEVER IT IS GO WILD!

Romanticccccccccc. ♡ ◜▿◝

Thank you VERY MUCH for requesting this tipseu! And for getting me into Nightshade. And for keeping me alive during [REDACTED]’s route even if it was just so you could :> at my suffering. I love you, you monster.

She is holding a basket of fish and grasses to her hip, and there is a tiny splash of river silt on her cheek. In the brightness of a spring morning, the sun makes the silt flash like a fish, and she is the most glorious thing he has ever seen. Though that’s been true always, always. Always. When she makes her delicate way back to the riverbank, he’s there to take the basket and hand her the sandals he found at the water’s edge, and a cloth to dry her hands.

Enju has become good at catching fish, good at maintaining their little house with him. Better at medicines. Better at speaking her mind. These are things that come from stability and security and trust. Gekkamaru is glad every day to wake and work beside her.

And, well. He is glad for the nights, too. Tender and close, their voices quiet because they are so near to one another, beside their fire or in the bedding they share. He remembers the first few weeks, when his words choked him in the dark so many times despite all they’d been through. But as soon as Enju asked him to speak, they flooded out in a rush of earnestness, and she smiled at him so gently until his words wound down to only breathing. She’d shuffled a little bit closer and whispered Me, too, and after that there had been no going back.

So they went forward instead, and made their new lives, very far away from where they’d started. At first he did everything... but she quickly insisted on learning. Some things took more time than others, but her beautiful determination never wavered. And now she has caught their fish and picked a few blades of a river grass that will impart sweetness to it when he cooks it for their dinner.

He still cooks. Cooking is a little harder to master than fishing, he’s told her gently. She seems good humored about it. It probably helps that she has gotten quite good at catching the fish.

Her quickness is a lovely thing to watch, when there’s time. She is still so slight that the fish must think her ankles are river plants. They come lethally close, she moves quick as a thrown blade, and then she ends them. She is better at it all than he is. So he leaves the fishing to her and she leaves the cooking to him.

Enju has taught him some things about medicines he didn’t know. Like the one she puts in her tea- after the first month, they went to the nearest town and got tea, and they’ve done it each month since-- every morning. But one night, after their bellies are comfortably filled by greens and rice and fish, they sit beside the cooking fire and she says, “I want to stop taking it.”

He knows exactly what she means. There’s only one thing she takes, and this isn’t the first time she’s brought it up. But it is the first time she’s been so declarative.

“Let’s just try,” she says quietly. Her voice is too clear to be a whisper, but it is close and quiet, a secret for only the two of them though there is no one else to hear. Not yet. He cannot believe she would consider this, that she would give him this trust, this gift. They’ve left the village long behind them, but-- but a child with hair the color of snow in a spring shadow, they... the world is so harsh...

“Enju,” he says. She demanded-- did not ask, demanded, with her hands on her hips-- he call her that before she even learned the tricks of fishing. It still feels like not enough to call her, and sometimes the incompleteness of it stops his speech, like it does now. It cannot help that the topic of conversation shocks him the way it does.

“I’m sure,” she tells him. She sounds it. She is so sure of herself these days, and every time he feels like he has gained a new sureness she says or does something that makes him feel like he should fall at her feet.

“If you are,” she adds. She ducks her head down a little to see his face.

“I’m not,” he confesses to the fire, shaking his head. Gekkamaru wants to be very careful with his words here, they come out of his mouth like staggering men. “But if you are, you should. Stop. Taking it.” He does not want to give up any of their closeness or they ways they enjoy their bodies together, but there are other ways of not... doing what the powder in her tea prevents. And more than anything he wants for himself, he does not want her to do anything she does not want to do.

Her fingertips smell like their dinner when she reaches for his cheek and presses it to turn his face toward her. “Why not?” she asks, direct and gentle in that way of hers.

A hundred thoughts of a thousand dangers to a child come to mind. What if something happened to her, more importantly. They don’t have anyone to teach them what to do. They find enough food for themselves and make enough from medicines and strength to buy what they cannot find, but would they be able to manage another mouth?

He is honest to a fault, though, so the largest truth falls out between his teeth. “I don’t... feel... worthy,” he tells her.

She scoots the little space between them, bringing her body right against his on the mat they wove together. They could do better if they wove one now, but this has held up well and they use it when they sit by the fire outside. Their bare arms touch.

“You are,” she says, pressing companionably against his side. “I love you. No one else is worthy at all.”

He can’t say anything to that right away. It’s all he can do to keep the whine in his throat so he doesn’t sound like a puppy. Eventually, the largest truth comes out of him again. “I love you,” he says. “I don’t think anyone but the person you choose is worthy.”

She puts her head on his shoulder and he can feel the way her temple moves when she smiles.

“It’s a good thing I choose you then, isn’t it?” Enju asks.

He rubs his cheek against her beautiful hair, still unbelieving but always willing to go where she takes them. The fire is noisy as it dies down, but no sudden crackles disturb them. Enju and Gekkamaru have no reason to jump. They have earned their peace. Their bodies remain still, close together beside their fire until it gives itself over to the air and becomes no more than a glow and a curl of smoke.

She does not add the powder to her tea in the morning. She never takes it again.

#nightshade fanfic #nightshade fanfiction #nightshade gekkamaru #berrycrepes #tipseu

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

One Of A Kind

Pairing: yandere!Steve x Reader. Warnings: obsession, graphic depiction of violence, death of minor characters, unstable skinny Steve. Words: 1963. Summary: the ones hunting your family knew nothing of a monster in human shape lurking behind your back. Ps. I’ve finally decided to choose Steve for this one. Thanks to everyone who participated in the discussion! _____________________________________ Steve was an odd kid. Well, technically, he wasn’t much of a kid - he had already turned 18 - but with his extremely skinny built he looked younger to you. You knew his mother fell very sick when she was pregnant with him, and it explained a lot about his physique. It wasn’t his physical health that troubled you, though.

He was really into this military stuff, secret operations, death traps, serial killer hunting, things that guys of his age were not often interested in. Not to this extent, at least. His room was full of war history books, documentaries, scary posters with roaring bears, his own drawings of knives, guns, grenades and things like that. Steve didn’t talk much, and sometimes he even preferred gestures to communicate with others. You thought that maybe his anger manifested itself in this way. You didn’t even want to imagine how severely Steve had been bullied at school before moving here. Thankfully, most of the time he was really sweet to you, smiling shyly, helping you out with the choirs and trying to adjust to living together. Your dad married his mother a month ago, and now you all moved into a new house, pretending to be an average happy family.

Except for Steve’s disturbing hobbies, it wasn’t that bad, actually. You were slowly getting accustomed to the presence of someone other than your father, having nice family dinners together, going to shop with your stepmom who was always treated you nicely, playing cards with Steve in the evenings… You could get used to it. One of the hardest things was trying to think of Steve as your younger brother because you just didn’t feel like it. You were growing closer and closer with each day, true, but to consider him your relative wasn’t that easy. Maybe you couldn’t accept him this way at all. Maybe him just being your friend would be enough.

The first day you moved into a new house your stepmother asked you to keep an eye on him when she wasn’t around. She said something about his health – he needed to take his meds every day – and pleaded you to forgive Steve if he would be rude to you. She asked you not to tell anything to your father. It was surprising, considering the fact you dad wasn’t really strict or unkind, but everyone had their fears, right? In the end, you meant the world to your him. She was afraid he would hardly tolerate her son’s bad attitude towards you.

Anyway, you knew your father wanted you to became closer to Steve, and you did the best you could. At the end of the month it was you bringing him his medication every evening, not his mom. You were wishing him goodnight and turning off the lights in his room as if you truly were his older sister, and he was more and more willing to spend time with you. As the time passed, Steve didn’t seem so scary to you anymore. He was just a poor kid mistreated by people.

It all changed when those men showed up in your house one morning. They were heavily armed, black balaclavas concealing their faces, their beefy figures advancing upon your father. The next moment he was laying dead in the hall. The blood gushing from the hole in his chest quickly covered the grey floor you had only washed yesterday.

Steve’s mother was the next one after a man asked her something and was not satisfied with her answer, apparently. You heard the gun firing in the kitchen, and you knew what had happened to her. But the only thing you did was staring at the floor covered in your father’s blood, your body frozen to the point you forgot how to breathe.

They were dead. They were dead, and you were all alone in the house with five murderers. The only reason why you were still alive was because they simply didn’t see you standing on the top of the stairs.

No, you were not alone. You had Steve. You needed to get him out of the house before these men caught you.

“Get the kids!” Somebody yelled from the kitchen, and you ran without thinking.

Steve’s room. Steve’s room. In the end of the corridor. To the left.

Somebody was already following you with such speed you could hardly outrun him. You didn’t dare to glance back, but you knew it was a large tall man with a knife or something like that in his hand instead of a gun because he didn’t shoot you outright. He would either kill or rape you in the next 10 seconds. Maybe he would kill you once the leader got whatever he wanted from you.

“STEVE!”

You jumped to the door and suddenly fell onto blue carpet in his room, Steve standing right in front of you with something in his hand. You blinked and heard the loud steps of a man behind you.

“Help me!”

Your head was not working properly, panic ruling over you now. Why did you ask him for help? What could tiny Steve do against a 6’5 feet tall armed man who was obviously not some rookie robber? It would take at least several policemen to bring him down, not a scared to death girl with shaking hands and a kid skinny as a rail.

Then you heard a weird bubbling sound somewhere behind your back and saw Steve’s black boots moving instantly. Why was he wearing his combat boots in the house? And, more importantly, did he just throw something at the man?

Crawling further to the opposite wall, you didn’t dare to turn around until you felt the boy’s gentle hand pulling you up with a strength you never expected from him. His sickly-sweet smile was now gone, one of his hands covered in blood and clenching a small knife, the other holding your arm. You looked at his unnaturally calm expression, all emotions wiped from his face.

“I will help.” He said quietly and moved to the door, punching the man’s legs to the side to close it.

Then you finally saw the intruder laying down on the floor and not moving. Did Steve knock him out? Did he throw the knife at him once he entered? The pool of blood under his face was growing so much you realized Steve must have cut his throat right after that.

There was no time for second thoughts when the boy motioned you to the open window. He got on the red roof first and helped you to come down, then jump right into the bushes. You were shaking feverishly, understanding absolutely nothing but following Steve to the forest without a word. At that moment he was godlike to you, your protector, your saviour, the one who had just saved your life. You didn’t ask where he got the knife or how he managed to kill that big guy. Nothing else mattered than your survival.

The next moment you were fully conscious the two of you were somewhere in the woods, Steve wandering around some garbage and fiddling with rusted metal and pieces of rope. He had bandaged your leg that you scratched badly while clawing your way through the bushes. Where did he get the bandages? You looked around and saw a first-aid kit on the ground near you. When did he?..

Now watching him you thought Steve was way too collected. His face betrayed no emotion when he placed a plank with long nails in the grass. Then he pulled the string somewhere close to the fallen tree, setting some kind of a trap. You could not comprehend what he was doing.

You reached down the pocket of your shorts instinctively, searching for anything that might help. Instead you found one of Steve’s white pill cases with his meds. You often carried them with you not to forget to give him a few every evening.

When he suddenly touched your arm you almost jumped, shivering and letting out a gurgling sound. The boy was standing in front of you and gazing at the pill case in your hand.

“Your… your meds.” You mumbled under your breath. “For the evening. You’ll be ok.”

He smiled, rubbing your shoulders with his unbearably hot hands dirtied with dry blood. For some reason Steve looked happy as if you two were not in the middle of the woods, chased by fi… four murderers. Why was he so calm? He heard the gun twice; he knew his mother was dead.

When you watched him as he took your hand again and pulled you forward, you saw him wearing his black jacket, t-shirt and tactical pants. Why? He didn’t plan to go anywhere this morning; it was Sunday. When did he get dressed? Did he do it when he heard the men coming? But it happened in the matter of two minutes maximum. Did he start gathering his things once he heard the first shot?..

“Steve.” You felt tears streaming down your face when you saw an old metal bear trap close to one of the multiple trails on the forest glade.

He pointed his finger to the other places around, and you saw snares and ropes everywhere.

“Steve.” You repeated weakly, thinking of everything that happened. You were ready to cry. “They’re dead. Our p-parents… These people will kill us too.”

In a second, he let go of your arm and stepped closer to you, his hands now on the sides of your face. His hollow eyes stared at you sharply. Opening his mouth wide, Steve pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof that way you could see and then exhaled slowly. After that he closed his mouth and inhaled through the nose for a few times. You realized you were repeating after him – he was teaching you to control your breath. Steve was helping you to calm down.

You were breathing with him for a few minutes until you felt your heartbeat returning to normal.

“If you want my protection,” he said calmly, touching the lock of your hair, “I will protect you.”

You squeezed his hand in yours, staring him into the eyes. You only realized now something was very wrong with Steve. He acted nearly… inhuman. He wasn’t bothered by the death of his parents. He wasn’t frightened like any sane person would be in a situation like this. No, instead he planned how to get rid of those guys, setting death traps right before your eyes. He made them so thoroughly and so fast as if it weren’t his first time setting them. And where on Earth did he get a real bear trap?

Something was telling you he was far more dangerous than any of those men breaking into your house. You had never asked his mother what mental issues he had, right? You had never found out what his meds were for. Were they really just for helping him to calm down before going to bed? Why was his mother always keeping him in her sight? Why had his hobbies always involved depiction of extreme violence?

You bit on your lip and looked at Steve’s face. Whoever he might be, he was your only savior. So be it. If it was the only way to survive, to avenge your parents slaughtered like pigs, so be it. Whatever he would do, these people deserved it.

“I want it, Steve.” You whispered to him, gently rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He gave you one of his sweet smiles in return and showed you the safe path on a glade full of his traps, guiding you by the hand.

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #skinny steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers #pre-serum steve #yandere

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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

took the words right out of my mouth

Acatl decides to teach Teomitl how to row. Teomitl does indeed learn something new.

Also on AO3!

They were curled together lazily in the shade of Acatl’s courtyard like two lizards, arms around each other despite the heat, when Teomitl had what was in retrospect one of his better ideas.

It started out as a half-drowsy murmur as he nestled further against Acatl’s chest. It was really too hot for a position like that to be comfortable, but he was perfectly willing to bear discomfort if it meant feeling as well as hearing Acatl’s heartbeat in his ear. I might never have had this, he thought, but what actually came out of his mouth before he could sink too deep into introspection was, “You were the best teacher I could ever have had, you know.”

Acatl made a small noise; belatedly, Teomitl wondered if he might have been falling asleep. “Oh?” Then his words must have penetrated the haze, because the arm around Teomitl’s waist tightened as he nuzzled at his hair. “Mm. You give me undue credit.”

Well, now, that couldn’t be borne. “I do not,” he huffed, and twisted around—the angle was awkward and his neck wasn’t happy with him, but if Acatl was going to go about doubting his own obvious excellence in all things, then Teomitl had to kiss him until he saw sense. They’d only been together for a scant matter of days, and sometimes he caught Acatl flushed and staring at him as though it hadn’t sunk in yet. I love you, ridiculous man. Let me show you.

Acatl, it turned out, was very willing to be shown. He slid a hand up into Teomitl’s hair as they kissed, pulling him closer, and hummed in pleasure when Teomitl ventured to coax his mouth open. Pressed together as they were, he thrilled to the feeling of Acatl’s heart beating faster under his fingertips. “Mmm...” It was a barely audible hum, but it was enough to drive Teomitl a little wild; he writhed in Acatl’s arms until he could worm his way onto his lap, tangle his fingers in the rippling fall of his hair, and kiss him until they both had to pull away panting for breath.

His lover was beautiful at all times, but none moreso than now—face flushed, lips red, eyes with that hazy look in them that said he was very much enjoying himself. Teomitl had to suck in a breath before he could manage words, fighting the urge to wriggle pointedly in Acatl’s lap. No matter how much he wanted him, things between them were still so new. Acatl, he suspected, would have to be lured like a skittish deer. “The best of teachers,” he whispered. “The best of men.”

And now Acatl was blushing. It was adorable. “Teomitl,” he murmured, and ducked his head.

“It’s true.” It was. Only the very best of men would have saved the world so many times and accepted no recognition; only the very best of men would have met his eyes on that day and told him there was no need for an apology when Teomitl had been prepared to lay his bleeding heart at his feet.

The memory case a shadow through his mind that must have shown on his face, because Acatl smoothed gentle fingers along his cheekbone and smiled softly at him. “Hm. I wouldn’t say the best of teachers.”

“Why not?” But he thought he knew what Acatl was going to say; there was still that gap in Teomitl’s education they’d never been able to rectify, and he could admit it nagged at him.

Sure enough, he wasn’t disappointed. Acatl’s smile turned teasing as he continued, “I never could teach you to row.”

And that was when it occurred to him, even as he flushed with embarrassment. “It’s not too late.”

Acatl sat back, tilting his head as he considered this. “You want to learn?”

He was the Master of the House of Darts, one day to be Revered Speaker. She of the Jade Skirt was his patron. If he felt like it, he could have a legion of slaves or a herd of ahuitzotls to take him anywhere on the water he wished to go. But in his mind’s eye he saw Acatl rowing, the steady ripple of strong muscles as he propelled a boat through muddy water with ease. It was something any man in Tenochtitlan ought to know how to do, and he’d always been awful at it. But no matter how terrible at it he was, he knew Acatl would never mock his failures. He never had.

Besides, even if he wound up learning nothing at all, it would be pleasant to be out on the water where it was cooler. And where he probably wouldn’t spend all his time pondering the myriad temptations of Acatl’s home, particularly the parts involving a closed entrance curtain and a convenient mat. Or floor. Or wall.

“Yes,” he said, and slid off Acatl’s lap before he could get distracted again.

Of course, they couldn’t simply set out. A boat had to be found and a secluded place to practice had to be arranged; the latter was more difficult than the former, but if Teomitl was going to flail around with an oar he wasn’t going to do it with an audience if he could help it. Fortunately, there were plenty of secluded little spots around the edges of the Floating Gardens if you knew where to look—and with Jade Skirt’s magic, he would always know where to look.

Acatl took them out there, letting him relax for the moment and ensuring they wouldn’t crash the boat before he’d even had a chance at the oar. It really was better on the lake, with a breeze stirring their hair and the spray from the water cooling their skin. Not to mention that Acatl had shed his cloak in deference to the sun’s heat, leaving Teomitl with an excellent view of bare shoulders and a lean, strong back. Acatl was no warrior—his muscles were on the wiry side where they showed at all, unlike Neutemoc who was built like a tree—but that didn’t make him weak. Teomitl allowed himself to imagine standing up, sliding his hands over those shoulders and down his arms, telling Acatl that really, they’d gone far enough—

Then he shook his head, grimacing at himself. No matter how much I want him—no matter how much he loves me—I have better self-control than that. I don’t want to lure him into something he might regret. They’d been together a week. He’d courted Mihmatini for a year. He could wait. At the very least, when he got Acatl onto his mat he wanted there to be a mat.

“Will this suit?”

Teomitl gave a start; he’d stopped paying as close attention to his surroundings, but when he lifted his head he saw they’d reached a place where calm water lapped at the edges of a small island. The water was too clear for tlilcoatls to lurk, and the mud of the bottom wasn’t deep enough for the oar to get stuck too badly if he dropped it. Most importantly, it was utterly deserted. “It should.”

“Good.”

Then Acatl turned, holding out the oar, and flashed Teomitl one of those thin, soft smiles that transformed his face from merely decently attractive into something that took Teomitl’s breath away. “Shall we?”

Here was his first test: standing up in the boat without falling over. He grabbed the edge of the boat and braced himself, ignoring Acatl’s outstretched hand; he could at least manage this unassisted, even if the rocking of the craft under him made his stomach clench until he was steady on his feet again. “Let’s.”

Shortly after they switched positions and he took up the oar—still warm from Acatl’s hands, gods—he realized he’d miscalculated. Badly.

He hadn’t realized Acatl teaching him to row would involve so much of Acatl touching him. Of course, it made sense—he had to ensure he was holding the oar properly, after all—and he wasn’t doing anything forward, but that didn’t seem to matter at all to his libido. Now that he was no longer halfway to melting in the sun, it turned out his body had very strong opinions on the quick, sure way Acatl’s hands brushed along his shoulders or forearms or wrists. He tried to think of unappealing things. The main autopsy rooms of Acatl’s temple. Quenami’s fucking smirk. Tizoc.

It didn’t work. Acatl stood behind him, close enough that he could feel the heat from his skin, and when long fingers came to rest on the backs of his hands he had to bite back a sound that wanted to be a whine. “Nnh.”

“Here, you’re still not holding it right—” The worst part was that Acatl didn’t appear to even notice; he bit his lip lightly in concentration as he adjusted Teomitl’s hold on the oar, but that was all the expression he showed.

Teomitl exhaled. Right. He’s always taken lessons seriously. I’d be a poor student if I couldn’t do the same. Focusing on the smooth wood under his palms and not his lover’s scarred fingers, he shifted his grip and found himself automatically adjusting his stance to keep his balance. “Like this?”

“Mm. Now try pushing off.”

He did. The boat lurched, weaving from side to side like a drunkard, and they both swayed on their feet. Acatl was steadier; the arm he put around Teomitl’s waist to keep him upright didn’t so much as shiver. Teomitl turned automatically to look at him, acutely aware of how they were touching—Acatl’s hand just grazing his stomach, his side against Acatl’s chest. They were nearly close enough to kiss. He saw the way Acatl’s gaze flicked down to his lips and thought, just for a moment, that they might.

Then Acatl released him and stepped back, all business again. “You’re too abrupt. Here—like this.” Hands over his own again, he poled the boat forward. Teomitl tried not to think about how easy it was to let himself relax into that touch. “It’s more important to have your movements smooth. You can worry about speed later.”

Smooth, he thought. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of the lake. On the edge of his hearing, he could almost catch a faint snatch of chattering song from his ahuitzotls. That’s right. I have Chalchiuhtlicue’s protection. I can do this. Remembering the way Acatl had moved him, he did it again. Their boat hadn’t quite come to a halt yet, but as it drifted forward he felt the water part at the stroke of his oar. He exhaled. “Ah.”

“See?” A smile tugged at the corners of Acatl’s lips. Teomitl wanted to kiss it. “You’re doing well, love.”

His face burned, and he had to drop his gaze to the water. You’re doing well. His heart gave a lurch in his chest. Every time Acatl praised him, whether it was for his magic or his quick thinking or something as simple as rowing a boat, it set a swarm of butterflies rioting through his insides and a pulse of heat through his veins. It was far too easy to imagine that low voice saying the same things against his hair, or with his lips moving against the pulse in his throat—to imagine it rough with need and growling Good boy, Teomitl, you’re so good for me—and gods, for Acatl he’d be perfect. He swallowed hard. “...Praise me when I’ve managed to get this thing moving.”

Acatl’s expression said he’d expected a reaction like that. “Go on, then.” Then he sat down, elbows on his bent knees, to watch how Teomitl did on his own. The pose reminded Teomitl so sharply of his lessons in magic that the morning’s devotional scabs on his earlobes started to itch. “Slow and steady, like I showed you.”

He rolled his shoulders, took in another deep lake-scented breath, and started to row. It was easier now than it had been; the boat still lurched and he knew trying to turn too fast would send him over the side, but he was starting to understand why Acatl had told him to move slowly. Mud and water didn’t care if you were in a hurry; it would drag you down all the same. Careful, he thought. Shoulders like this, back like this—no, I’m doing the thing with my hands again, that’s better...

He wouldn’t be winning any races, but the boat was moving forward more or less in a straight line. Eventually he’d have to figure out how to turn without crashing the boat, but he was sure Acatl would be happy to show him that, too. For now, this was...

Well, it was exhilarating, honestly. He was rowing a boat and it was actually obeying him! He wouldn’t need to summon slaves or ahuitzotls to carry him over the water anymore! Elated, he turned back to his lover. “How am I doing, Acatl-tzin?” He hadn’t called Acatl tzin in a while, but the honorific slipped out anyway; something about it seemed instinctual when the man was teaching him something new.

Acatl seemed to have been preoccupied; he twitched when Teomitl addressed him, head coming up to meet his gaze like a startled hound. There was a faint flush across his cheeks that Teomitl was sure he couldn’t blame on the sun. “Ngh.” He swallowed visibly. “You—you’re doing very well. But your feet should be—space them a bit wider apart—“

He nodded, shifting his stance. “Like—”

Oh, no.

There was a split second of vertigo, a terrible awareness that he’d leaned over too far, and then he hit the water and the lake was rushing in his ears. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move; it took a heartstopping moment for him to remember how to work his limbs and right himself, realizing that he’d gone to his knees in the muck. When he opened his eyes, the world he saw was made of dark jade. His ears were filled with that foggy not-silence of the water, but the song of the ahuitzotls rang clearer than it ever had.

In Tlalocan...

The water wasn’t so deep here, maybe to his chest if he was standing. His lungs burned. If he stood up, he’d be able to breathe. But he was on his knees and he couldn’t—

It felt like forever, but it had to have only been a few seconds. Even muffled by the water, he could hear Acatl’s cry. “Teo—!”

Then there was a surge of water that could only come from quite a large boat suddenly tipping over, followed by a second, louder splash and a flurry of very energetic cursing. It seemed to unfreeze whatever had taken hold of his muscles, and he shot to his feet with a surge of panic.

Air was a relief. He shook water and his own wet hair out of his eyes, looking around for Acatl through the droplets still clinging to his eyelashes.“Acatl-tzin!”

“Ack—ugh. I’m alright!” Acatl was an arms’ length away from him in water up to the middle of his chest, spitting out wet strands of hair with a grimace, but most importantly, he didn’t look hurt. Teomitl could breathe a little easier.

Not, admittedly, much easier. The last time he’d seen Acatl like this—soaking wet, with the coils of his dark hair plastered to his skin and streaming off into the water like ink—had been when Tlaloc had sent His agent into the Fifth World. Then he’d been freshly filled with Jade Skirt’s power and they’d been fighting for their lives, and there hadn’t been time to admire the view. Now that there was, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Acatl’s skin gleamed, water sluicing down the curve of his shoulders and clinging along the ragged lines of old scars. Sunlight turned the sparkling droplets to fire, and Teomitl wanted to catch every one of them on his tongue. When Acatl threw his head back and raked his hair away from his face, he swallowed a whimper. Fuck. Fuck me.

It took real effort for him to remember how words worked. “You’re sure?” He waded closer for a better look. They were close enough to touch now, if he dared.

Acatl huffed, shaking his head. “Never mind me, what about the boat?”

Right. The boat. The boat which was now floating perfectly upside-down on the water a few feet away from them. He eyed it, frowning. Acatl’s strength was in his magic, not in his muscles; he was stronger, but not enough to get their craft flipped upright with only the traction provided by slippery lake mud under his feet. There was only one other option. “...I can call the ahuitzotls to help us right it?”

“...In a moment.” Acatl’s distaste for that idea was clear; Teomitl honestly couldn’t blame him. They were pretty creepy. But then their eyes met, and Acatl’s expression shifted to concern. “What was all that about?”

He swallowed. Acatl’s gaze didn’t seem to know where to settle—it slid from his face down to his collarbone and back up to rest somewhere around his mouth. He was suddenly very, very aware of the way Acatl was looking at his mouth. Without really meaning to, he took a few steps forward. The water between them was suddenly too much. “...You were...” Heat rose in his face. “...Distracting,” he finished lamely.

Acatl made a soft noise, and his hands flexed as though he’d like to reach for him; Teomitl wasn’t expecting him to, and so calloused fingers cupping his cheek made him gasp. A faint smile curved Acatl’s lips at his reaction. “Oh?”

He’d thought he would have to coax Acatl onto his mat like a hunter luring a deer. He’d thought Acatl would be shy. But the way his lover was looking at him now, all heat and hope, made him think again. Emboldened by the light in Acatl’s eyes, Teomitl reached for his waist and pulled him in. Even in the cool water, his lover’s skin was deliciously warm under his hands. “Mmm. Let me show you.”

Their mouths met, hot and wet and perfect. Again Teomitl realized how wrong he’d been; it was impossible to imagine how he could have thought Acatl shy when there was a hand in his hair and another sliding down his back, pressing them together; he stumbled a little in the mud, but Acatl only held him tighter. They broke apart only to kiss again, and when he dug his nails into the meat of Acatl’s back he was rewarded with a hum of pleasure. “Mmm...”

“Acatl,” he panted. He wanted to fix their boat. He wanted to get to that island, wanted to peel off their sodden loincloths and—but he couldn’t say any of that, because when he’d broken the kiss Acatl had moved his attention to his throat, and the feeling of his mouth there drove all the words from his mind except one. “Fuck.” Acatl hummed—gods, he could feel the vibrations of that sound—and did it again, tugging his head back, and Teomitl clawed at his back with a shuddering groan.

And Acatl didn’t stop. He kept going, mouthing a trail up Teomitl’s throat, and when he got to his ear he breathed, “Enjoying yourself?”

He’d never liked rhetorical questions. In lieu of an answer, he pressed closer, stomach to stomach; the heat of Acatl’s skin against his own was intoxicating. There was no room in his head anymore for thoughts of care or circumspection; he rolled his hips in a rough and inexpert grind, and the answering press of very hard flesh against his own made him gasp. “Oh.”

Acatl’s hands slid down to his hips, all but anchoring him in place. His voice was as rough as Teomitl had dreamed as he murmured, “You aren’t the only one who’s been distracted. You don’t know what it’s like, watching you move.”

He licked his lips. “Acatl-tzin.” That got a reaction too; Acatl’s head lifted, eyes locked on his own, and though his lover’s face was flushed all the way to his ears it was so clearly not a blush of shame that it gave him the ability to breathe, “I want...” But he wanted so many things they all clamored to leave his mouth first, and so he was temporarily struck dumb.

“What?” Acatl’s self-control had always been impressive; now, though he didn’t move, his fingers tightened on Teomitl’s hips.

Teomitl’s heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his fingertips. Desperate for something more to hold onto, he sank them into the wet, heavy fall of Acatl’s hair and watched him tremble at the contact. “You.” Just you. In any way you want, any way we can dream of. Their loincloths were entirely too much fabric.

Acatl sucked in a harsh breath. “Let’s set the boat to rights, and then you can have me.” His hips rocked lightly, giving Teomitl absolutely no doubt as to what he had in mind.

“Ngh.” He’d never been harder in his life. He didn’t think he’d even wanted the crown this badly. But his lover had been chaste and devoted only to his god for years, and so something made him pause and mutter, “Acatl-tzin. I thought—”

The way his gaze fell must have told Acatl more than his words could, because he found himself quite effectively shut up by a brief, sizzling kiss. “You’ve been driving me mad for months. Did you think I didn’t want you?”

Months, he says. Months. He breathed in, tasting the lake and the shadow of Acatl’s mouth on his own. “...I thought it was something you’d want to consider first.”

Acatl’s eyes gleamed; the spark in them made him look as young and vibrant as he really was in those moments when the burden of his office fell away, and Teomitl somehow fell even more in love. “I have.” His voice lowered to a near growl. “In great detail.”

Teomitl wasted no time summoning his ahuitzotls after that, only barely remembering to haul up the boat when they reached dry land.

It was, after all, a very secluded little island.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #teocatl #paladin writes stuff

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angelicdestieldemon · 3 years

Text

First time for Everything (Day 11 of Christmas) NSFW

Request: pegging

SHIP: Barson

Requests are open for the next 14 days, I write for Barson, Bangan, Barisi and potentially other Rafael Barba ships (even other Raúl Esparza characters too), just talk to me on asks or private messages.

To say Olivia was nervous would be the understatement of the year. She and Rafael had been having a discussion after one too many glasses of wine on the couch a few weeks ago. And eventually they had come across the topic of sex or more importantly sex toys. Rafael had found some in her bottom drawer while searching for pyjamas to lay out for after her shower. Olivia had been embarrassed at first, not about owning them just because she didn’t expect him to see them outside the sex context. After a few drinks she had felt a lot more comfortable about the whole thing, although Rafael had still been trying to reassure her.

“It’s nothing to feel embarrassed about,” he reassured, the soft look in eyes making her believe him.

She was cuddled up to his chest when he said it.

“How do you think I’ve managed without a partner for so long?” She remembers her eyes snapping open at his words, and she turned to face him.

“You have sex toys?” she had asked, staring at him in shock, Rafael was an attractive man with no kids, she had just assumed he would rather go out and find someone rather than pleasure himself.

He had looked right back at her, a strange look in his eyes, but he had still been smiling so she didn’t worry too much.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of time to look for one-night stands,” he had quirked an eyebrow and she felt shame blush across her face.

“I didn’t mean that… I guess I’m just trying to work out what sort of toy you would want?” She remembers asking but instantly regretting it when he grinned a devilish smile.

“Mi amor, we’re not much different… although mine is bigger.”

The sound of the door brings her back into the moment, she is waiting in the bedroom wearing nothing but the harness, various sizes and shapes of toys lying beside her on the bed.

Since the initial conversation, they had only spoken about her penetrating him a few more times but they had made it clear it was something they would both like to try when they got a chance. With Noah having a sleepover just before breaking off for Christmas it was the perfect opportunity.

She hears him pottering around outside their bedroom, most likely taking of his shoes and suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves and putting away his briefcase in the study. Finally, she hears the soft sound of his feet on the carpet heading her way and she takes a deep breath, leaning back on her elbows, her skin exposed completely to the warm air of the room.

When the door opens, Rafael has already unbuttoned his shirt, his chest hair visible. When he spots her his mouth drops open. He leans back against the now closed door, his eyes burning a trail up and down her naked skin.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” he manages to grind out, his eyes blown in lust at the sight of her laid out for him.

Once he’s drank his fill of her, he looks to see what is on the bed, and licks his lips at the sight of the toys on the bed. Finding the strength in his legs to move closer, she stands up to meet him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him soft and sweet.

“I was not expecting this tonight,” he murmurs against her lips, his large hands finding her hips above the harness.

“I felt like treating you, and you said you had missed this, so why not, I’m willing to try it if you are,” she responds, her nails scratching down his chest, leaving little white lines in their wake. “I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I got a few choices, I’m comfortable with whatever you are.”

Rafael’s eyes trail down to the toys, glossing over each of them before reaching down to pick up a long thick purple one, it wasn’t as thick on his own length, but it was almost as long. She remembers him saying that his toys were bigger than hers, but she didn’t think he meant this big and she briefly wonders when the last time was, he used a toy on himself, but she quickly discard the thought.

Olivia moves the rest of the toys to the bottom drawer on her bedside cabinet and sits back on the bed as he strips himself. They had discussed what would happen if they were to try this and they had agreed, that for the first time he would prep himself and if they both enjoyed the experience, she would have a go the next time. She secures the toy in the harness, the weight of it feels different but not unpleasant.

First, however, she needs to kiss him, crooking her finger at him he grins and climbs over her sealing their mouths together. At the feeling of the toy pressed up against his stomach, he feels a rolling heat begin in his belly. That fire increases when Olivia swipes her tongue across his and the taste of her is enough to make him grow from semi to fully hard.

When they break apart, Liv hands him the lube and he moves into a more comfortable position to prepare himself. Liv pays no mind to what he’s doing as he begins to stretch himself, sealing her lips to his neck. The sensation of his fingers and Liv mouth driving him mad, but he keeps going, too excited at the prospect of Liv fucking him.

It takes longer than he remembers but it had been a while and he doesn’t want Liv to feel bad if he limps for the next few days. Which he probably will anyway, but he can’t help the fact that he has always liked his men (and toys) thick. Eventually though, he finally feels ready and he turns to kiss Liv before rolling onto his hands and knees. They had decided this position would be easiest for the first time and as Liv positions herself behind Rafael she can see why he likes this view of her on the nights where they don’t have long. His shoulders are broad, and she can’t help scratching down his back again, watching him shiver at the touch. She makes sure the toy is covered in more than enough lubrication before slowly pressing into him.

Rafael feels the stretch of his body as Liv pushes in and he moans at the feeling, he really has missed this, and being able to share this feeling with Liv is better than any one-night stand or toy on his own. He feels her reach around to grip him, working him back up until he’s hard again. Once their hips are pressed together Liv breathes out, the sound of his breathing fills the room. Slowly she withdraws before pressing back in and Rafael moans at the feeling. With each thrust Rafael relaxes into the feeling more and more and Rafael can feel his orgasm approaching quicky, he wants to make this last, but it has been too long, and he can already feel him dripping precum all over the sheets. Teetering on the edge of his climax, Liv adjust her angle and begins slamming directly into his prostate and he just can’t hold himself back. He feels every muscle in his body go rigid as he clamps down on the toy, his vision whitening out until his arms collapse beneath him. He winces as Liv pulls out, laying soft kisses up his spine to his neck.

He vaguely hears her undo the straps of the harness as it thumps to the floor and she curls up behind him. Running her hands through his hair as he comes back to himself.

“Good?” She asks the soothing motion of her hands helping him slow his breathing until he can think clearly once again.

“Incredible,” he replies, turning to kiss her passionately.

Before she can stop him, he pushes himself down until he’s latched onto her core with his mouth, immediately going to work. His tongue and teeth sucking, licking and nipping at her until she’s a moaning mess under his mouth. He knows what she likes, and he uses every trick in his arsenal to work her body until she shakes with her release.

He kisses her, the taste of herself on his tongue is overwhelming and she can’t help but moan into his mouth, the rest of her however is exhausted and she knows he feels the same.

“I love you, so much,” he whispers in her ear as he wraps his arm around her.

“I love you too, Rafa.”

#Barson #rafael barba #Olivia Benson #Raul Esparza #mariska hartigay #Law & Order SVU #Rafael x olivia

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imperiuswrecked · 4 years

Note

So...I really would like to see your take in Namor/Maximus, it can be anything that comes to your mind I'm not picky (any universe, situation, gender...just make it gay 👀)

Sorry this took so long! I choose the 616 Verse because it’s really the one I know most and wanted to write this. The answer to who gave Namor those band aids when he got beaten up by Thanos.

Short fic under the cut~

Pain. It had been a constant companion to Namor throughout his life, and now just as when he was a child, he endured that pain alone. He had retreated retired to his rooms for the evening after his humiliation at Thanos’s hands. He winced as he sunk into his pool, an accommodation he had insisted on when he chose his room which he had filled with salt water, the cuts burning as the salt entered them. He lays at the bottom for some hours, too lost in his mind mulling over recent events. So much death, so much destruction, and for what? they were no closer to making sure his world was safe. Every new threat that came, he crushed, but the Cabal was out of control.

Namor at first had ignored the signs, the bloodthirsty leering of the group as though they were some pack animals getting excited at the scent of death, telling himself it was necessary to align himself with Thanos and his Black Order, but as each new body fell, as each new world was bathed in blood, he felt less and less sure of himself. Now he was going to be watched carefully, he had to find a way to get a message to Richards and the rest of the Illuminati who was still around. His wounds had slowed considerably while in the water and now he kicked off from the bottom of the deep pool to break is head on the surface, his lungs taking in the first cool gasp of air. His gills were fine for underwater but there was a sense of relief that one only got from taking in those deep clearing breathes.

“Do you have to resurface? Or can you stay there as long as you please?”

The lilting voice of Maximus the Max rings out in the empty room and Namor swivels in the water to look behind him. The Inhuman Prince lay stretched out on fainting couch, eating from the bowl of fruit that lay on the small table beside him. His happy light cadence was at odds with the blood on his hands. Namor eyes the man carefully. He did not know much about him, only that he would be an asset to the team with his scientific genius which is why Namor had brought him on. Since then he had not much time around the man, since they usually only saw each other when another incursion occurred.

“I can live the rest of my life in water and pray that the humans leave me and my people alone, and never would I surface.”

Namor lies, not to others, but to himself. He would try and fool himself thinking if he had peace he would never roam, but Namor knew he would always have this urge to see the world of his father. As some people would say the sea called them, so did the land to Namor. Max pops another grape into his mouth, as Namor swims towards the edge nearest the Prince. He eyes Namor with a appreciative expression as the Sea Prince lifted himself out over the edge, his naked body on display as water rivulets ran down the length of his form. Namor always swam naked when he was alone and he was never shy, he noted the Inhuman Prince’s stare as he walked to the couch where at the end he had left a towel and his suit. He ignores the sharp intake of breath as he nears. Many people found his form beautiful, but he wondered if they would still want him if they saw him for who he really was? A man willing to snap the neck of any living being if it meant further his goal of keeping Atlantis and his people safe another day.

“What are you doing here Prince?” Namor asks as he dries himself off, Max’s gaze is hungry as he looks at him, he knows that look. Many a maid, and man, would then speak in breathy whispers, and try to persuade them to bed them.

“I was tired after our last massacre, Thanos had us hop to another world to kill not even one under incursion, just because he had been denied his last world... by you.”

So that was why he had not been visited by anyone, even Black Swan for the last few hours.

“That does not answer my question, you have your own rooms to retire in, why are you here?”

Namor drops his towels and pulls on his suit, Max sits up now, and swings his legs off the couch.

“Who else would patch up your wounds?” Max pats the seat next to him and smiles up at Namor. The Prince had dark shining hair, and bright blue eyes, his smaller build meant Namor towered over him but it did not deter the Prince even when Namor glowered at him.

“I am already healing, the water rejuvenates me, soon even these small cuts will disappear. I don’t need you to administer your... care.” Namor says in an acidic tone, “Don’t you have bombs to build? Or other innocents to murder?”

“Ah just for that, now the choice of my Hello Kitty band-aids are off the table.” Max says in a pouting tone, “Come now, you can growl at me all you want as I bandage you.” He scoots a bit more, “I will tell you all about my bombs and then you will ask me how to send a message to my idiot brother and his friends without any of Cabal knowing you sent it.”

Namor’s expression must have shown his shock, Max giggles a bit, coming from the grown man it sounded strange and if there was a lesser man standing there, he might have been unnerved by the Inhuman. Namor simply sits and turns to face Max who hastily moves them about until Namor’s legs are stretched out and Max is straddling his waist. He opens his white and black coat to reveal the inside pockets did indeed hold Hello Kitty Band Aids as well as normal white band aids and a number of other unusual objects including; different sized remote controls, tiny silver tools, a small jar of jam, a set of earrings, a tv guide to soap operas, and a single apple that looked like it had been swiped from his bowl of fruit.

“Ah ah.” Max saying in his sing song voice, “No kitty for you.” He selects the white bandages and sets himself to work, Namor allows the man to touch him. He need to get this information, and most importantly he need to make sure Max wouldn’t tell the others, even if that means killing him after Max gave him a way to contact the others. Max covers the small cuts over Namor’s face, one on his nose and other’s on his cheeks. Namor had survived bombs, and bullets, and the Hulk, all without anything ever cutting through his tough skin, but Thanos strength had been enough to shatter Namor, he was only lucky that Atlanteans could heal fast and he faster than most. Max’s fingers were nimble and his hands were gentle. It had been a long time since anyone had been nice to Namor and the man almost did not know how to react.

“Why are you doing this? Why help me at all?” Namor’s voice is low, and Max lifts his gaze his own voice is soft and breathy, “Why not? You’ve never hurt me or mine, I don’t think we are enemies my Prince, and if we aren’t enemies then that means we are allies, and what do allies do if not help one another?” He muses as he continues, “Maybe I am getting this ally thing wrong, my brother would know what to say if he were here, the man never shuts up when it comes to telling me what is right and what is wrong.” He laughs softly at his little joke. His eyes turning back to the cuts.

“Will you tell the others that I will be speaking to the Illuminati?” If Max said yes, Namor would have to snap his neck, he couldn’t let his plan fail, even if that meant killing someone who was showing him kindness.

“That depends.”

“On?” Namor growls, his hands twitched.

“On what you will bribe me with to shut me up.” He smiles slyly at Namor, like a cat who had been caught in the canary cage.

“You seem to have planned for everything that might happen before you walked into this room, so tell me Lord Maximus, what is it that you want?”

Max places the last bandage on Namor’s arm, setting away his kit he turns back to the Atlantean.

“I’ll settle for a kiss, to keep my lips shut.”

Namor blinks, he would have thought the Inhuman would demand more than that, money, power, riches, or even a night in Namor’s bed from his earlier admiration. He speaks slowly so that there is no confusion in the terms of their deal, “For a kiss, you will stay silent about any plans I have to dismantle this Cabal?”

“Scout’s Honor!”

Maximus does a small sign with his fingers, and Namor has no clue what he is talking about, or what Scout he might mean. Still he has to trust someone, if Max did end up betraying Namor like so many others in his life then Namor would deal with it then.

He sits up a bit and places one hand behind Max’s head, pulling the Prince in for a kiss, soft lips brush Namor’s and he had meant it to be a quick action but he found himself falling deeper into their kiss. Max’s hands hold his shoulders and the Prince moans slightly as Namor presses his lips harder against Max’s. It is a few moments later that they part, both men breathing a bit harder than before. Namor’s heart pounding as though he had just swum a hundred miles. Namor stares at Max, noting the slight blush to the man’s cheeks as Max smiles.

“A kiss to seal the deal.” Max says softly and he later is good on his word.

Later after he hangs up from the call Namor leans back in his chair and thinks about the kiss, his fingers brushing his lips. He hopes Maximus knows how to survive what is coming, because Namor doesn’t know if he will save him.

A Namor/Max fan art by me for @esteicy-blog : I’m very sorry for the bad quality, but I will keep practicing so I can make more Namor ship art!

#namor #maximus boltagan #namor the sub-mariner #maximus the mad #madmariner #mim writes a thing #thanks for asking!#esteicy-blog

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iamtotallycool · 4 years

Text

EOA Ship Appreciation Week Day 4: Music

Decided to do a fic for one of the only actual canon ships!

This was my first time writing for them though and actually had a lot of fun with it, so I hope you do too!

PS the song in here is “I love you too much” from the Book of Life, where this scene is partially inspired from!

Enjoy!

Whether you asked the fishermen at the port or at the bankers located in the heart of the city, everyone could agree that it had been many years since the streets at night in Avalor had been safe.

Everyone knew as well that this was in large part to the mysterious group known as Los Tres. A trio of men who had appeared seemingly overnight a year ago. Some argued that they were demons, beginning their reign of terror by picking those full of sin. Others said that they were ancient Maruvian guardians, sent to protect those that now lived on their lands.

It would probably disappoint them so to know that they were all wrong, and that the truth was that the group were just mortal young men. Royals, yes, but mortal all the same. And, of course, with being a group of young men, they tended to get restless themselves when they had no action to quench their thirsts.

This forced them to find ways to occupy themselves.

Some were more productive than others though.

"I can't believe this!" El Místico exclaimed as he tore a piece of paper off the stone wall and began to wave it around. "They can never get my nose right!"

El Guerrero sighed as he froze mid push-up and used his impressive upper body strength to push himself back onto his feet with ease. He knew if he didn't actually engage in his friend's plights, he would never hear the end of it.

The larger man peered down to see that El Místico was holding one of the groups many plastered wanted posters.

Apparently, according to the local guards, they were considered reckless "vigilantes" which was highly "illegal." Luckily, Los Tres had gained the love and respect of the people that they were more than willing to look to the way or simply shrug their shoulders when questions about the group were pressed.

"You're right, I can't believe it," El Guerrero said with a smirk. "Considering how big it is!"

He didn't say anything about having to be nice or supportive to his friend's needless dramatics.

El Místico just threw his arms at El Guerrero's comment.

"I'm sure El Capitán will agree with how outrageous this is," The shorter man said, pointing his big nose up as he made a swift turn on his heels. However, the barrel the leader of the group had been sitting on was now empty. "El Capitán?"

El Místico then stepped closer to El Guerrero as his hissed out, "Where the hell is he?"

"It's 8 o'clock, hombre."

El Místico let out a labored sigh. "He doesn't know when to give up, does he?"

The large man shrugged. "He's in love, what did you expect?"

"That soft headed man has been in love before," El Místico replied flatly.

"Not like this though, amigo. This one is years in the making." El Guerrero turned to the direction he knew his friend had disappeared to. "And I don't blame him one bit."

El Guerrero had indeed been 100% correct, as Francisco Flores aka El Capitán, quickly slid down the dark allies and rounded tight corners of the part of town that had been familiar to him for years now. One hand pressed to rapier on his hip and the other holding the strap of his guitar that was slung over his back, making sure to keep both items from jostling around.

After a few more twists and turns, Francisco reached his destination. The Reyes Chocolate Shop.

All of the lights in the building were off, but that didn't deter the young man as he quickly moved to the side of the building. His eyes immediately trailed up to the balcony that was located in the farthest corner of the building, where he was met with a lit candle that sat on the railing.

She was here and expecting him.

Francisco unsheathed his guitar as he would his sword. He gave one more glance at the candle before he took his position and began playing the song he had started working on this morning.

I love you too much

To live without you loving me back

I love you too much

Heaven's my witness and this is a fact

His sharp eyes picked up a figure moving towards the balcony doors. They swung open, and Francisco felt his heart race at the sight of Luisa Reyes's face as it came into view.

Tonight, she was wearing her work uniform. Which somehow complimented her curvy figure beautifully.

I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much

Francisco stopped playing briefly so that he could bow to Luisa, he never forgot his courtesies.

"Careful not to play so loud," Luisa said as she placed her face in her hand. "Or someone might mistake you for El Sombrerón."

"Do you think I am Hermosa?"

"I haven't decided yet," Luisa said coyly. "Perhaps I need a closer look."

Francisco smiled as he walked over to the strong and thick vine growth that curled down the side of the building. Muscle memory guided him to all the secret foot holds to allow him to take the easiest and fastest route to up to the balcony.

Luisa smelled of mint and chocolate, and he thought that it suited her perfectly. Sweet, but a sharp undertone that some couldn't handle. Luckily for Francisco, he had an appreciation for just that sort of flavor.

Once Francisco was comfortable and, more importantly, securely sitting on the balcony's railing, he pulled his guitar back over his shoulder with a great flourish. He picked up where he left off as his fingers strummed out the soothing melody.

I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night

I love you too much

There's only one feeling and I know its right

Luisa had said that she wasn't musically talented enough to pick up an instrument and try herself. She seemed to have an appreciation for it though, as she beautifully leaned against the wall, her eyes closed as she absorbed every note he played.

I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much

As soon he played the final note, Francisco reached into his pocket to produce a red rose, a Flores Red Rose, one from his family's famous bushes that grew in the Castle gardens and was on the crest of their family house.

Luisa's eyes sparkled at the sight of her favorite flower as she gingerly took it from him. She inhaled the vibrant flower's scent before tucking the flower into her hair. It looked like it was made for her.

"Did I earn the lady's favor this evening?" He asked hopefully.

"That was quite the romantic balled. All of them have been." Luisa bit her lip lightly. "I have to admit though, I've never been one for mystery or secret admirers. I prefer for things to be open and straightforward."

Francisco's fingers gripped tightly on his instrument. He had been anticipating this day, but it still caught him off guard.

"I already know you're a royal, El Capitán, if that's what you're worried about." Luisa nimble fingertips lightly grazed over the finely sewn threads of his jacket. Oh, how Francisco wanted to hold that hand. The hand that could delicately decorate even the tiniest candies or punch a wannabe criminal in the face.

Why was he hesitating again?

"Well, I would rather not think about Royal stations." Francisco said, settling for resting his hand on top of hers. "I would rather just for you think of me as just a man, asking a very beautiful woman, to come with him to the Summer Festival tomorrow."

Luisa cocked an eyebrow at him. "And I, being the beautiful woman, would tell this man that I do happen to have the afternoon off from the chocolate stand."

"And then I would ask her if she can meet me by the west-side fountain."

Luisa leaned forward, her aroma becoming more intoxicating. "And I would ask how am I supposed to recognize him, seeing as we've never properly me?"

"I suppose if I were to have something of the lady's, then she could spot me that way."

Her smile broadened a little more, but there was something that wavered slightly in her deep green eyes. Francisco had been raised and trained in the Royal Court to be able to pick up small ques and changes from a person. And he could easily guess the reason for her change in demeanor. This all felt too strongly and was becoming too serious to continue to be a simple flirtation. However, she wasn't going to fully say yes unless she could trust him a little more. And he knew what he needed to do.

"El Capitán--"

"Francisco," He then abruptly. Even though he was breaking one of the most sacred rules of the brotherhood, he wanted her to know. "My name is Francisco Flores."

Her eyes instantly widened. "Francisco?"

The young man gave her a cheesy smile and raised in his arms to convey a way that said 'ta-dah.'

"It's, uh, it's been a few years," She then tried to say casually, but the annoyance in her voice was hard to miss.

"Are you upset?" Francisco asked tentatively, placing his guitar back behind him.

"I guess, maybe. I'm not sure yet." She wasn't looking at him anymore. "It's just...you haven't really visited me since you've come back from studying abroad and now I found that....did you not want to see me?"

"No it's not that, at all." Francisco turned and swung his legs over the railing so that he could face her completely. "My comrades and I returned with a promise to start protecting Avalor for those who need it. So we thought it best to keep our distance in order to not get anyone mixed up in it."

"Well you clearly aren't doing a very good job," Luisa said flatly as she motioned to him, still sitting on her balcony.

That he couldn't argue with that.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. None of it.

He and Luisa had at least been acquainted with each other since they were children. Francisco had loved coming to the shop to spend his allowance and play with her. He had felt maybe there relationship had changed a little when they became teenagers. It wasn't until he had returned though, and first saw her not as a girl, but now as a woman, that he had felt cupid's arrow shoot through his heart.

He wasn't being fair though.

"You're right, that was selfish of me to let this continue the way has for so long," Francisco said. "And for that, I am truly sorry."

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, but her eyes at least met his again.

"Please know that I really do have feelings for you, Luisa." He straightened his posture. "And on my honor. I'll do whatever I can to prove it to you."

A few heavy seconds passed, and Francisco began to fear the worst. That he had let his desire for grand romantic topes cloud him too much to ruin something real that he had with her.

It was a huge relief then when Luisa said, "Wait here."

She disappeared into her bedroom. Francisco pulled a his collar and had enough time to quickly wipe his sweaty palms against his breeches before she reappeared.

"I suppose you really will need something of mine, since I didn't even recognize you."

Luisa surprised him as she now stood incredibly close to him and presented something even closer to him that he couldn't tell what it was for a second. But as his eyes adjusted, he realized it was a blue silk handkerchief.

"This is my favorite," Luisa said sternly as she pressed it into his hand. "So I'll never forgive you if you don't return it."

Francisco felt like he could whoop, and he rarely ever did, except when he was watching an Olaball match. And these days, he was the loudest spectator when Luisa made a point using her incredible skills. He pulled his hand back, their fingers gliding over each others skin and even lingering at the very tips for a few seconds longer.

"I'll guard it with my life," He boldly declared as he securely tucked the handkerchief into the breast pocket of his jacket.

Luisa shook her head slightly at his gallant promise, but the slight blush on her cheeks was hard to ignore.

The City bell then tolled out. Indicating that it was now 9 o'clock.

Francisco sighed as he dropped his head, he wanted to stay here much longer with her, all night if she let him. But, he had made a vow to his comrades that he would only be away for an hour before he would resume his duties.

"Good night, Luisa." Francisco said with a smile, hoping that the handkerchief meant that there was no longer any negative feelings between them.

"Good night, El Capitán."

He was wrong, she was definitely still a little mad.

Francisco kindly bowed to her though and began his decent down the vines, jumping onto the stone road when he was close enough.

He began to walk away, but decided to take a chance and he turned around. His heart leapt a little when he saw her leaning against the railing, watching him.

"If I may ask," He began, his hand nervously fiddling with the guitar strap. "Do I really still have any chance?"

She reached up an gently touched the rose that was still in her hair.

"Ask me again tomorrow," She said pointedly. But the small smile that graced her lips was enough to lift his spirits as she blew out the candle and retreated back into her room.

While the wiser choice for Francisco at moment would be to move through the shadows and remain as quietly as possible to avoid detection, he couldn't help it as he instead jauntily moved down the middle of the street with a little bit of kick in his step.

Let a hundred guards or a thousand ruffians come for him. He felt so good that he knew he could take them all. He had a date with Luisa and nothing was going to stop him from being there.

#Elena of Avalor #Francisco flores #luisa flores #Disney #disney jr #ship appreciation week

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leavaloo · 4 years

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Original Works: Daki Character Study

While I’m done with requests for the night, I wanted to post some original stuff. This time, this short story is featuring two of the characters from my Beast Trial series that I’m working on. I hope you all enjoy! Please let me know what you think, especially since this is me getting more accustomed to my characters!

Hope y’all enjoy~

Quiet mutterings echoed through the dinner where Daki sat. He frowned into his mug of ale, acting like he was deep in thought, when really, he was simply listening. It was a new technique he was trying, and one that was also fairly dangerous to the soul. Should he get caught, it would at the very least get him kicked out of this specific dinner. At the worst, possibly killed. Luckily, Rien was with him, who quietly wrote across the table from him.

Yeah, he was doing school work, but he was also playing a very important role in all of this. He let Daki know if there was any suspicious looks their way by tapping his foot slightly. All in all, Daki didn’t like Rien, at least to begin with. Now, for the most part, he respected the work ethic he brought to their schemes. And of course, they always had the excuse that they were simply training for their celestials.

Daki’s head thumped against the table, sending a wave of ash gray hair over Rien’s schoolwork. Rien raised an eyebrow at his roommate, brushing some of his deep black hair out of his black and white eyes. Daki always found that interesting. Rien’s eyes, especifically. Most souls had their eyes stay a similar color to their hair, even if a black soul retained a seemingly pupiless eye. It was the opposite for him. It was like he was monochrome right from the very start. White outsides, black iris, white pupil. Part of Daki wondered if he was colorblind.

“What’s on your mind?” the black soul asked, resting his head in one of his hands, brow furrowed.

“…I want you to be honest with me, Rien.”

The silence begged him to go on.

“What do you think about being chosen by Celestials to become divined champions?”

Rien almost thumped his head down with Daki, with how heavy his sigh was. It raised a chuckle from the other male’s body. He set down his quill, taking a deep drink of his own ale while looking off at the people passing by. Daki also looked out, both of them collecting their thoughts before this obviously intense conversation began.

Keirak was, of course, the capital of Azen. And honestly, this place was so much different than the snowy wastes where he came from. His body shivered instinctually, and he decided to push those bad thoughts out of his head. He watched as horses passed by on the elevated platforms, carrying carts willed with people or goods. The diner they were eating at specifically was, like many shops and stopping points in this canyon, carved into the red rock. He could hear the call of merchants from the square down below them, the jingling of many wares being transported, and the talk of those who rushed about from place to place. Yeah, a lot different from home.

“I’m confused,” Rien finally spoke, bringing Daki’s attention back to the table. His head leaned on his arms, one of his hands playing with the long, gray rat tail that he had. His dark gray eyes scanned Rien’s body for any available clues of deceit, but even Daki had to admit, whether Rien was meaning to or not, the guy was hard to read.

“Confused how?” Daki pressed.

“Back in my village, I was known for being the black soul who couldn’t do any magic. I was good with weapons, not magic. Kids would run up to me and ask for a magic trick, and I’d never have anything to give them. So, out of all the other possible black souls out there, even with people like me being sparse, why me? I guess I don’t feel deserving of this title.”

Daki was kind of taken aback. This entire time that he had been rooming with Rien at the academy, he had seen him as the type that got everything he wanted. It was one of the reasons he hated Rien from the start. Shaded souls like Rien always had the most amount of magic compared to any other shade or color. Daki solemnly looked at his hands for a second, wondering if the small amount of magical prowess that he had was more than Rien had even mustered.

“I didn’t know you couldn’t do magic,” Daki said, kind of stupidly.

Rien just sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, well, I’ve been trying not to tell anyone here at the academy. Wynrie knows, and so does Maki. They’re really the only ones. And now you.”

Daki raised his head up, furrowing his brow once more. “Why tell me? I’ve been a dick to you since day one.”

Rien shrugged. “I figured if we’re being forced to room and train with each other because of our Celestials, I might as well tell you the obvious that you would be seeing. Speaking of magic, how’s yours coming along? The Queen’s messenger taught you something new, right? That’s why you dragged me here?”

Daki just nodded, settling back into his arms with a frown. “Yeah but… it’s difficult. I’m having second thoughts. It might be best to continue doing it back at the academy, instead of here.”

Rien just flicked his forehead.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” Daki sat up, rubbing the place on his forehead that Rien flicked.

“You won’t learn unless you go out of your comfort zone.”

The gray soul kind of stopped, staring at him. Why was this entitled black soul giving him such strange information today? Rien nodded over to the crowd that was standing around a table. Two men were in an intense gambling match, from the looks of it, the stakes were high.

“Try it there. Plenty of distractions, not many people to notice.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Rien just winked with a sly smirk. “I’ll tell you later.”

Daki just groaned, closing his eyes and burying himself into his mug. He heard Rien starting to work on his homework again, and Daki felt a tap against his foot, signaling that it was good to go. He focused deep into his soul, imagining the room, and suddenly, he was able to get a reading of the environment.

From his vision, though his eyes were closed, the black world was outlined in stark white, with only the brightness of everyone’s shadow to guide him. Over at the gambling table, he found that Rien was correct. Plenty of shadows, plenty of people engrossed by their game. Any tingle in their soul that would alert an intruder could be passed off as a high stakes anticipation.

Daki’s soul and vision jumped to one of the gambler's shadows, and suddenly, Daki was able to hear, see and understand everything that was happening, though he was watching in third person. He could hear some of the patrons whispering around him, some suggesting some cards to play, others trying to help him cheat. On the table was some highly prized jewels, beautiful enough to make any rich man drool in his sleep. He had a losing hand, which was probably why his brow was sweaty, and his poker face was starting to fade.

It was clear that, across from him, the finely dressed man in blue, silken robes and deep purple hair had a winning hand. He smirked at the commoner, lazily adjusting the collar on his robes, leaning back in anticipation. To Daki, it seemed this commoner waged his savings on this in hopes of gaining more than he bargained, and it was not going in his favor.

Behind this man was a bouncy, anxious woman, who seemed to be the man’s wife. She was looking over his hand, and in that moment, Daki took that opportunity to jump to her. It was a good decision, because he could feel from her soul that she was incredibly nervous, despite the winning situation. He was also able to see from her perspective the blatant cheating of this simple card game. Hidden in one of the man’s sleeves were several losing cards, probably making it so that the information was only privy to his wife. Daki jumped away and came back to his body with a sudden gasp of air, and in the distance, he heard the commoner groan, “I fold.”

Rien raised an eyebrow, and Daki sent him a look of “don’t ask yet”. He just nodded and went back to his schoolwork. The lord chuckled to himself, scooping all of his winnings into a pouch on his side, then standing up and linking arms with his wife. He bid the commoner goodbye, a sneaky smile on his face that could easily be misconstrued for a charming grin. Once the lord left, the commoner held his head in his hands, while some other patrons ordered him a couple of drinks, taking the two royal leige’s seats.

Daki let out a breath he was holding, and gave a little smile to Rien.

“It worked.”

Rien’s eyes lit up, almost literally with his pupils, and he leaned forward. “Really? How did it go?”

Daki, saying it in the most casual, but also low voice he could, explained how the lord had been cheating, making himself have a better hand than he started with. But more importantly, he described the experience of shadow hopping, and the two of them, for the first time, acted giddy together at the newfound power.

“That’s so interesting,” Rien started, taking a thoughtful sip of his ale. “I wonder if you could jump into shadows that don’t have a soul attached.”

Daki just shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s currently not up to me, but up to the Raven herself. Which, by all accounts, is a weird sentence to say aloud.”

Rien chuckled slightly, tapping the edge of his quill against the counter. The two sat in silence for a while, before Daki finally piped up with a question he had been curious about for a while. “Say, Rien, if you can’t do any magic, how do you suppose that your two celestials are going to teach you any of their special techniques? Would you even be able to handle it if you already knew how to do magic?”

Rien bit his lower lip, with it being his turn to have a confused look on his face. “I dunno. That’s what all of this is for,” he started, gesturing vaguely to the papers in front of him. “It’s all about how I feel on a day to day basis. I dunno, I feel like I’m being treated like a child, but they say it’s necessary.”

Daki just nodded, drinking his untouched ale and staring out into the street once more. To be honest, he didn’t think that Rien was so special to begin with. He was a black soul, yes, and if he couldn’t do magic, then he was nothing more than an insignificant bug that Daki could easily squash under his feet. And yet, despite all of this, the guy somehow managed to become the divined champion of not one, but two of the Celestials in the prime council. Two! And these two were the heads of the council, who basically ruled over all things Celestial. Just the thought of it made his blood boil.

It was Daki who stood up first and walked out of the dinner, putting a couple of gold down for the workers. That was usually how him and Rien departed. No words, no acknowledgement, just silent resentment. As he slowly walked around the boardwalks connected to the canyon walls, he realized that there had been something different in his encounter with Rien. He couldn’t shake the sad look that Rien kept getting in his eyes. So much so, it caused him to stop and look at the descending shadows from the fall of sunset. Part of him thought that, maybe, just maybe, there was more to this guy than meets the eye. The other part of him grit his teeth, shook his head, and forced himself to keep moving back onto campus. Yet, the thought still lingered, deep within the recesses of his mind.

#kai writes #original works #short stories #high fantasy #Beast Trials #Rien #Daki #Daki character study #short story #original works of kai #souls #magic #i dunno quite what else to tag here but i hope yall like it

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tiny-maus-boots · 5 years

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Wild West AU pt 15

A/N: always a huge thank you to @chloes-yellow-cup for being awesome and always doing the things i hate and/or refuse to do with posting. ilyan.

A/N: this is nearing the end. maybe another chapter or so. sorry it’s taken so long to get through this one.

Beca

“Hey! That’s enough out of you. Should be grateful I waited for you all to see to your own. Now get off my train.”

She almost couldn’t hear him past the roar of hot rage that washed over her. Beca struggled against Chloe’s firm grip trying to launch herself at the train and the men threatening to take it. A low growl trickled past her lips and one hand went to the handle of one of the knives in her chest rig. Both of Chloe’s arms wrapped around her tightly, voice soft in her ear trying to soothe, but Beca was having none of it.

“Lemme go, Chlo…”

“Sorry, Cowgirl. Not the time or the place.”

Beca struggled to move forward even if she had to take Chloe with her but the redhead was intent on keeping her put. After a few moments she gave up struggling and settled for seething anger instead. She wasn’t even sure what bothered her more, that Chloe held her back or that the jackass trying to take their gold was laughing at her.

“I’ll see you in Hell, you hear me? I will find you, and I will end you!”

She struggled again but Chloe was expecting it and tightened her grip on Beca. He only laughed harder giving Beca a surge of strength that was powered solely by her desire to murder him. It was enough for her to be able to drag her mate a few steps forward but Chloe dug her heels in and threw her weight into it and Beca was well and truly caught.

“Easy, lover. Easy.”

It was that soft warm tone that did the most good in calming her even if she didn’t want to be calm. But it was hard to fight against the weight of Chloe’s body and the utter unconcern in the ease of her voice. The bitter edge of anger starting to dull, leaving her able to finally see more than Chicago standing over Aubrey and Stacie with his gun drawn. Her eyes drifted to Aubrey’s prone body and the anger turned to something else entirely. Chloe was right, this wasn’t the time or place.

Movement behind the train was visible by the wheels and she frowned slightly. For a moment it was just the flap of fabric in the wind that ghosted along the carriage then disappeared. Beca blinked a few times trying to understand what was happening when Lilly’s head poked out from between train cars where she made a complicated hand signal then disappeared just as quickly. Beca snapped her mouth shut with a click and Chloe eased her grip slightly. She had no idea what that signal meant but she trusted her friend, and more importantly she trusted Chloe.

“Glad to see ya calmed your pits. Hate to shoot you when I’m being all reasonable like.”

Beca gave a snarl that she couldn’t help even if she had wanted to. She might be willing to let things play out but she wasn’t about to do it silently. Besides keeping their eyes on her meant no one was any wiser about what was happening behind their backs. “Reasonable. I’ll be sure to have that carved into your headstone.”

“You’re mouthy ain’t ya?” His eyes narrowed and the gun swung slowly from Stacie to Beca. He pulled back the hammer with slow, deliberate ease. “I’m starting to think it’d be better if we didn’t leave any loose ends to come back and haunt us.”

“You’re not gonna shoot them.” All eyes drifted to Bumper who had hoisted himself on to the platform and was standing with his hands on his hips between Beca and the barrel of that gun. “I get takin’ the train. Gold is fair game ‘round here. That’s just the way it is.”

“They’re trouble.”

Bumper gave a nod but his gaze traveled down to Aubrey and Stacie and something flickered in his eyes that Beca never expected to see. Something she wasn’t even sure she’d ever seen in him before though their paths had crossed plenty in the past. Just a hint of respect and maybe a little awe. “Yeah, maybe. But you’re still not gonna shoot them. They could have left us to the Army back there and they didn’t. She didn’t.” Bumper pointed to Aubrey’s far too still figure before spitting off the edge of the platform.

Chicago started to lower his gun, turning in frustration to the pair of women still on the platform. He didn’t like leaving loose ends, and he guessed that Beca was as good as her word. They’d come for those men and he wasn’t entirely sure who would win. Chicago grunted and raised a booted foot to push Aubrey off the edge of the platform. “I said, get the hell off my train.”

A low growl of renewed hate and anger rolled up from her chest and it was echoed by Chloe who still held her tightly. The boot never managed to reach Aubrey before Bumper had skinned his gun and pressed it to Chicago’s head. “You…you don’t get to touch her. Understand?”

It felt odd watching Bumper of all people defending Aubrey and Beca couldn’t imagine what had happened in the caverns to make that kind of loyalty possible. Stacie raised her head slowly, green eyes radiating the kind of hate that choked the breath out of men. It was enough to make Chicago back up a few steps and bow a mocking grand gesture that they were free to go. Chloe released her grip and they both jogged over to help Stacie lift Aubrey and carry her off the train.

She hadn’t expected Aubrey to be light, but the weight of her as they carefully eased her onto the ground seemed too much and far too limp. As though the only thing left of their friend was meat and bones. Beca eased back so Chloe and Stacie could hover over the blonde and turned to eye the men on the train. Some of them looked a little nervous when she pinned them with her gaze and marked their faces for later. Finally she let her eyes land on Chicago who seemed both irritated and smug at the same time.

“Don’t worry Mitchell. They’ll be so busy chasing us they won’t think to swing back ‘round to you. Hell, you should be thanking me for this.”

Most of the men laughed as the train started to roll slowly forward. Bumper stood at the rail, gun still raised to Chicago, exchanging furious and short jerks of his head with Dingo. It was obvious each of them wanted the other to choose their team. When it was pretty clear he was going to be riding that train without her, Bumper muttered and shoved his gun in his holster. “Aw hell and damnation, woman!” Beca blinked in amused surprise at his less than graceful leap from the rolling platform. They watched him roll down a gentle embankment before getting up and dusting himself off.

A soft groan of pain made Beca turn back to her friends, every one of their team crowding around Aubrey’s body protectively. As a group they held their collective breaths and watched as Aubrey’s eyes fluttered open. It took a second or two for her to focus but when she did she found Stacie, Chloe and Beca hovering worriedly over her. “Is it…heaven?” Beca felt her breath squeeze out in a shuddered gasp because she honestly thought Aubrey was already dead. Had maybe even been preparing herself for the shock of it.

A shadow dropped over them and Bumper leaned down with a grunt. “Oh well lookit who decided to wake up for the party. About damn time, Posen.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes up to take in his looming face with a disappointed sigh. “Oh. No.” Her lip curled, nose crinkling with the effort. “It’s Hell.”

It broke the tension and Stacie leaned forward sobbing out a laugh as she peppered Aubrey’s face with relieved soft kisses. Beca let out a breath as she and Chloe sagged against each other, oblivious to everyone else for a moment. Chloe let out her own ragged breath and bent to rest her head on Aubrey’s chest, content to feel the rise and fall of her steady shallow breaths. A rough sniffle made Beca turn to Bumper who rubbed at his face and stared at the sun for a minute.

“You alright there, bandito?”

“Got dirt in my eye from the jump.”

“You mean the wild flailing leap?”

“Shaddup.”

Beca eyed him for a second then punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You’re alright Bump.” He gave her a derisive snort and moved off to Dingo’s side. Beca shook her head slightly, still not entirely sure of what had just happened.

“Praise the Lord that’s over.”

She looked up quickly and frowned at Jessica and Ashley wondering where they’d come from. “You know you two aren’t exactly nuns right? And where they hell were you two while they were running off with our gold??”

Jessica shrugged with her usual sunny grin, the nun’s habit she wore still looked crisp and pristine. Beca might have taken up a high perch to watch for riders while the train was being loaded but she knew The Sisters and La Muda hadn’t been there when they showed up with locomotive. They were too clean to have participated in loading it and she wondered what they had been doing while what was left of the Swansons took after their leader and double crossed them.

“We were doing what we were told to do.” What? Beca brought her gaze to Chloe who smirked and looked up at the other two women.

“Did you have any trouble?”

Ashley shook her head and laughed. “Town was half empty as it was but who’s going to stop a couple of nuns? The Sherriff even waved us off as we rode out. I don’t think he even realized we rode out with an extra cart.”

Things were moving too fast and she didn’t understand what was happening. Chloe took pity on her and leaned into Beca’s body a little. “I thought Jesse might try to mess us up. So I had a backup plan.”

It still wasn’t enough of an answer so she blinked and gazed off at dark speck of train moving sluggishly away. “But our gold…”

“C’mon, let’s get Bree in one of those carts. You’ll see.” They stopped talking long enough to lift Aubrey carefully between them. The blonde whimpered softly but it was a damn sight better than the deathly silence of before. Ace and Florencia backed a cart up close and they slid Aubrey into the back. She didn’t even stop to think about the fact that Lilly was already backing King and Roan into place and buckling their harnesses. Chloe climbed into the back of the cart and gave one of the planks a hard kick to loosen it. The board popped and lifted and she yanked it up to show Beca the small compartment below it. Gold lined the space and Beca reached out to touch it reverently.

“But…”

“There’s no gold on that train Bec.” Stacie finally tore her gaze from Aubrey’s face and gave her a smirk. “Just the rubble we cleared from the mine. By the time what’s left of the Army regroups we’ll already be out of the territory.”

The reminder of the Army brought her eyes down to Aubrey and she swallowed hard. It was too close and they weren’t out of the woods just yet. Aubrey might still fall ill from her wounds and a long bumpy ride across the hot dessert wasn’t going to be easy on any of them. “What’s left? What happened at the caverns?”

Bumper chuckled then cleared his throat somberly. “Aubrey happened. Damnedest thing I ever did see. I thought we were all goners, hell, thought she’d already gone after she took a few hits.” He paused and shook his head remembering the chaos and frenzy of the moment. Bumper let out a breath and shook it off with a shrug. “But damn if she didn’t get her ass right back up to chuck that boom stick right out the entrance and in their stinkin’ laps. For a woman, she’s got some damn big cojones.”

Beca bit back a chuckle and gave Aubrey wide impressed eyes. “Well damn Bree, your bounty is gonna be bigger than mine.”

Aubrey met her eyes with a tired smile and settled back into Stacie’s cradling body too exhausted to answer. Beca gave a nod and looked around as their girls scrambled to load themselves into the four carts that had gone unnoticed for days. Lilly patted her shoulder and mouthed something that Beca definitely didn’t hear and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Her lips twisted in a slight frown and she looked back down the tracks before turning to Lilly. “What were you doing on that train?”

Lilly only smiled and moved off to climb into Jessica and Ashley’s cart. Beca started to ask again but thought it was better that she didn’t. A rumbling boom sounded off in the distance making the ground roll and shake just as she was hauling herself into the bed of Kat and Emmy’s wagon. They all turned to look but from that distance the only thing visible was a gray and black cloud rising upward. Huh. Beca’s head turned and she glanced over at Lilly who was very happily laying in the back of the wagon, eyes closed and hands crossed serenely over her chest, a smile on her face.

“Was that the train?” Stacie looked over from the bed of the other wagon and gave a nod and a wink. Well at least she knew why Lilly was on the train now. A smile tugged at her lips as she wondered if Chicago even realized there was no gold before the train blew up. “Well don’t that beat all. Huh. Guess they got theirs.”

She knew they weren’t done yet. They still had a score to settle up with Jesse and Avery. But at least they had the gold and were more or less alive, that was worth something. Emmy gave her a teary eyed look and she reached out a hand to the younger woman.

“Don’t you worry Em. I promise we’ll get him back.” She didn’t know how yet but she knew they’d get Deputy Benji back safely. They just needed to find a safe place to regroup. As the cart pulled out she realized she didn’t have the slightest idea of where they were going. But it seemed that Chloe and Stacie had thought of that too. She opened her mouth to ask where they were going but Kat spoke first.

“We need to take Aubrey someplace Emmy and I can take care of her while you y’all take care of this…situation. We’ll be safe at Ma and Pa’s place.”

Beca gave a slight frown but nodded. Ma and Pa’s wasn’t her favorite place but it was safe and easily defensible. It dawned on her that this would be the first time she was going to be in on the rescue mission and it made her smile. “Least it’s not me this time.” And if they were really lucky there wouldn’t be a next time either.

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