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thesunisatangerine · 5 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part twelve (final part)

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: mentions of grief, suggestive content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.2k

This wasn’t the first time you caught yourself thinking how difficult it was to have two professional athletes in your life, and it also wasn’t the first time you wondered how their bodies could store so much energy.

“Princess, slow down a bit. I think your mom needs to rest again.”

Even with the distance, you could hear the teasing cadence in Alexia’s voice, made prominent by the use of her mother tongue, and you watched as the both of them slowly came to a halt, turning their heads to look at you over their shoulders. At the extra attention, your cheeks heated with more than the exertion and, as pride urged you to save face, you pushed yourself to pedal quicker so you could lose the distance between you and them, stopping with a relieved wheeze when you finally arrived at their tail. Although amusement graced their features with a lightness, their ever-present disquietude–try as they might to hide it–shone clear in their eyes for you to see.

“Mom, are you okay?” Came Elisa’s question and, upon removing her cycling sunglasses, you found her brows furrowed.

You only managed to give her a thumbs up as your breath still eluded you, but when it returned, you added, “Yep. Just–just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“Seriously, Mom, you don’t have to push yourself too much.” Elisa placed a gentle hand on your back, rubbing circles as if she was trying to expel the malaise there.

“Ladybug, I appreciate the concern, really, and I may be no athlete but I can do this, thank you very much.”

Elisa raised her brow at you, clearly unconvinced, before she muttered deliberately loud enough for you to hear, her tone excessively dry. “Yeah? At this rate, by the time we get to the beach, the sun will be gone.”

Despite your state, a laugh bubbled from your throat when Alexia flicked Elisa’s arm who yelped dramatically, scaring a couple of birds to flight from a nearby tree, before she grinned and stuck her tongue out at Alexia.

“Be nice,” Alexia reprimanded but the quirk at the corner of her lips betrayed the seriousness of her tone, clearly amused.

Elisa grumbled as she rubbed her arm, “I’m not the one who’s making her laugh! If she passes out, it’s on you.”

Ignoring Elisa’s point, Alexia reached out and rubbed your arm in a soothing manner, speaking softly, “But really, love, if you can’t go on, we’ll just Uber there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m fine.” You grunted, letting a bit of your annoyance bleed in your tone, but you appreciated the thought behind their concern nonetheless. It was just, Alexia and Elisa’s protectiveness exceeded that of Derek’s–a feat in and of itself–and no matter how much you tried to assuage their doubts, they still hovered. And the only way to stop it was to let them know you were vexed. Then you added with a huff, “You two just have such ridiculous stamina. It’s not fair.”

“Alright, as long as you say so.” Alexia said, taking your answer in stride by putting her hands up as if in surrender. But then she smirked, adding in a low tone, “And it’s well earned, my love.”

Your brows raised, both surprised and pleased with the innuendo, before you smirked back and spoke in the same tone as she did. “And so you say.”

The moment was broken when Elisa let out a mixture between a sigh and a groan.

“No offense, but if you guys are done flirting, could we please get a move on? We’re about to lose daylight.”

At that, the three of you started again, Elisa taking the lead as Alexia fell into pace beside you. Then Alexia turned to you, mischief clear in the gleam in her eyes, and she muttered, “Remind me to tease her the next time Camilo comes over, hm?”

“I heard that!”

Much to Elisa’s delight, the three of you arrived at the beach with just enough time to spare before the sun began to set. You got off your bikes and began to lead it by your sides as the three of you began to walk the length of the shore.

Apart from a handful of people strolling about, the beach was barren today, and the lack of a crowd made the place more peaceful to you. And as buried your toes further into the pleasantly lukewarm sand, as you took in the breeze delivered home by the waves which carried a breath of freshness and a promise of another good day in the morrow, you regarded the sun, in her blazing glory, painting the skies with one last glimpse of her radiance.

Enraptured by the sight, you stopped and rested your bike against your thigh, rummaged through your bag for your camera to capture it. Once done, you turned to Alexia and Elisa who were farther along now, seemingly so immersed in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed you’d lagged behind. You watched them, their figures half bathed in the titian brilliance of the setting sun which made their shadows stretch long along the shoreline, and the sight stirred emotions in your chest that you felt compelled to capture them as they were: Alexia with her arm across Elisa’s back, one hand on Elisa’s broadening shoulder, while both of their bikes rested on their outer legs. As you were looking through the viewfinder, you saw Elisa’s bike fall to its side as Elisa wrapped her arms around Alexia, alarming you at first before you saw the scene as it was. You didn’t dare approach them; the moment, you perceived, was too tender for such an intrusion so you remained where you were, capturing the scene with your camera for safekeeping.

Shortly after, they walked back towards you in silence. Alexia’s gaze remained casted down as she tried to subtly brush her tears away with the back of her hand but when she caught your gaze, she knew you knew, but instead of asking about it, you only gave her an understanding smile–she’d tell you when she was ready. But Elisa, much as she tried, had always struggled with keeping her countenance free from emotions–a stark contrast to Alexia who, from years of practice, could school her features to faultless stoicism in a moment–and couldn’t deter the somberness from showing on her face for when she smiled at you as if to pacify you, her lips remained crooked with telltale signs of her affliction, chin trembling. The sight tugged at your heart, as it always did whenever you saw any of them this way, so you reached and cupped her cheek, brushing your thumb under her eye to try and soothe her. Elisa closed her eyes at your touch and when she opened them again, the weight in them looked lighter, and you smiled.

As the last traces of the sun sank under the horizon, you loaded your bikes on the rack attached to Elisa’s car which you parked there earlier that day, and Elsia drove up the mountain you just rode down on so she could drop you both off at Alexia’s car. Once there, Elisa helped you unload your bikes from her car and transfer it to the other car, and then it was time for goodbyes.

Alexia had to crane her neck up slightly so she could rest her chin against Elisa’s shoulder as they hugged. Alexia kissed her cheek, then patted her on the back as she said, “Drive safe, love. And don’t be late tomorrow.”

“I will and got it, Coach. I love you.”

You stepped in next, kissing Elisa, too, on the cheek as she stooped down to wrap her arms around you.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, ladybug. I love you. Be safe.”

“See you, Mom, and I love you, too.”

With that, the glow from the taillights of Elisa’s car receded into the darkness while the both of you got into Alexia’s car, heading for home. The ride was quiet except from the music that came from the radio, the volume so low it was almost like a hum, as Alexia drove with a steady hand, her face impassive but her eyes disclosed she was anything but serene.

Still, you held your tongue.

You had chipped away at Alexia’s emotional wall over the years you’d known her, enough that she now allowed herself to be vulnerable around you without being prompted to open up, but there were still instances which required patience, moments that asked for time until she was ready to come to you. And this was one of those times.

It didn’t worry you too much, though. The both of you had agreed to never let anything go unsaid–to never let things fester–until the next morning, so you gave her space now to mull things over.

Later that night, as expected, after spending the majority of the evening in her office, she greeted you with a soft murmur of your name, taking your hand and kissing the back of it as she settled on her side of the bed, drawing your attention away from the book you were reading.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” You asked softly, putting your book aside on the bedside table, shifting against the pillow you were propped on so you could see her better. The angle of the light casted shadows on her face and made the lines that time etched on her face more prominent, and it made her look more inviting; her earthly beauty made more resplendent.

The question that came was spoken with the faintest of air.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

At first, the question confounded you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words to answer her. But as you continued to regard her with an even more careful eye, you found a silent vulnerability in her eyes, so heartrendingly delicate, a rare look you only saw whenever she talked about–Oh.

Oh, Alexia…

Emotions surged through you, chest tightening as it ached with your lover; as it ached for the pain and grief that will forever live with her–for the love in her that had nowhere to go, permanently in search for a beloved soul.

Gently, you cradled her face in your hands, soaking in every feature, every freckle, every blemish and every line. You carded your fingers through her hair, consoling, then you traced her brow with the pad of your thumb before you kissed her temple and lingered there, then the skin just beneath her eye, then the bridge of her nose, and then the corner of her lips.

“I see… everything that makes you,” you breathed out, voice trembling under the weight of your emotions. “Your mother’s brows and the color of her eyes… the shape of your father’s eyes, his nose, his smile. Their love lives in your skin and it’s all you, Alexia. I see you. Oh, how I see you.”

At your words, Alexia’s face broke: her lips trembled, brows furrowing, while tears streamed down her cheeks. Then she dropped her head to your shoulder, a sob leaving her throat as she clung to you and you held her just as tight.

“I miss him.” Alexia choked out, “God, I miss him so much. It’s been so long and yet it still feels like I only just lost him today.”

Oh, the familiar paroxysms of grief. Most days, you remained untouched by their shadows but the intensity by which they instill the pain of loss when they did get you, how they stretch that empty space in your heart into an abyss filled with teeth, was something else entirely. Agonizing, yes, but it was also a bittersweet repose for it served as a reminder of who loved you and who you loved.

The moment that followed was spent in silence, apart from the soft stutter of Alexia’s breaths.

“I told Elisa that her parents would be proud of her, that I wish I could meet them and tell them all about how their daughter turned out to be this wonderful person. And you know what she said?” Alexia laughed, teary and voice hoarse. “She told me she wished she could meet Papá but at the same time, she felt like she already had. She told me I look just like him.”

“You do. And he’d be so proud of you, you know?” You whispered as your own tears fell while you gripped her hand in yours. “And I wish I could’ve met him, too, and Elisa’s.”

Alexia lifted her head so she could look at you, murmuring softly, “And I wished I could’ve met yours, too.”

Through the night, you exchanged whispered stories of the past as you held each other, shedding tears at Alexia’s recollections, laughing at the memories. But how sad it was that loss made your shadows long, all three of you? And how beautiful it was that one’s capacity for love–though at times could stray or waver–could never truly be lost even after a deprivation from the loss of a source? But wasn’t that how lives intertwine? Through shared suffering? Through the bitter grief and the sweetest joy? And wasn’t it where lives intertwined that love bloomed? And in this world of shadows–in these long, seemingly endless nights–warmth and light were all the more precious, and love… Love was both of those things and more: it was an enduring flame, so quintessentially human, an evermore of the sublimest kind.

Love was never lost, you knew this. Life would end but love would always remain; it did long before you, and it would continue on long after you.

But you were here, in love, loved, and alive. Could you ask for something better than this state of grace?

The answer echoed in clarity in your mind long before Alexia’s comforting warmth and the gentle beat of her heart had lulled you to sleep.

No.

Nothing could ever come close to this.

Tomorrow came with a splendid radiance, casting everything in a golden tone likened to that of a developed photograph which made the colors vibrant and inviting; the kind that promised that the memories made today would be looked fondly back on in one’s recollections. Waking up to the sight of Alexia in your arms made today all the more brighter for she held the vision to what the world had to offer; all the beauty and warmth in this world began and ended with her.

True to her words, Elisa appeared on the porch first thing in the morning. You opened the door for her, which also revealed her hand intertwined with Camilo's, who looked on devotedly at you daughter as she stepped into Alexia’s embrace, and then yours.

The three of you had prepared most of the things yesterday before you went cycling, but there was still much to do before the hour came for the others to arrive. So, the four of you paired up and went to work. Alexia and Elisa were delegated to setting up outside, while you and Camilo set up inside.

Your attention flitted to the two of them outside as you cooked but before the end of the hour, they’d finish installing the extension roof over the open gazebo, had moved and arranged the tables and chairs, and finished spreading a light blue linen over the tables before laying a strip of folded fabric of a lighter color in the middle. As for you and Camilo, you’d about finished with the arròs negre and the fideuà when Alexia and Elisa came in.

They stepped into the kitchen to grab the plates, glasses, and utensils laid on the counter–but not before Alexia snuck in a sweet kiss on your cheek, a diversion, you thought, so she could steal a spoonful of the fideuà; Elisa, too, grabbed a bite to eat which was fed to her with gentle affection by her lover–which they then arranged on the table.

After a moment of tending to the food, you looked through the opening that gave a view outside and saw the two setting up the party games for the kids. In an act true to their professions, they’d began setting up Elisa’s old folding goal posts, the backyard expansive enough to accommodate them, even sneaking in a couple of juggles and shots after they’d inflated a handful of balls.

(When Alexia caught your eye, she rubbed the back of her neck, putting a hand up in apology–Elisa laughed but she immediately shut her mouth to a bashful smile when your eyes flitted to her–before the both of them returned to their task.)

You watched Camilo in awe as he worked on the coca bread, empanadas, and ensaimadas all at once while you started on the esqueixada. Although you’d seen more of his intricate works, it wasn’t the first time you caught yourself amazed by the skills and work ethics of the aspiring patissier. After the last batch of pastry was put in the oven, the first of your guests arrived.

To your surprise–but not really for you had held enough family gatherings to expect it–you and Alexia’s immediate families came first, more than an hour early, and Elisa was greeted and congratulated as Eli, Alba, your mom, Derek and Robert, and their two-year-old daughter, Olivia, passed the door Elisa had opened for them.

And in typical fashion, their maternal instincts kicked in and Eli and your mom gathered around the kitchen, looking over the food, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at them as they fussed over you, not with malice, until you playfully shooed them away.

“Honestly, we can hold down the fort here. Right, Camilo?”

Camilo, bless his shy and gentle soul, flushed, darkening the olive complexion of his cheeks, as he just nodded in agreement.

You stuck your thumb to the direction of the back field and said, “The two outside, however, might need a little help.”

At that, you heard an offended, “Hey!”

(It was Alexia.)

But your mom, Eli, and Alba proceeded to the back, placating the pouting Alexia with a hug, and they chatted and caught up while they helped Alexia with the grill.

About half an hour later, Mapi and Ingrid arrived with Anton–their toddler of one and a half years old–asleep in Mapi’s arms. Alexia’d welcomed them in, embracing her old teammates, which roused Anton from his sleep. When Mapi set him down, he blinked around, taking in his surroundings with his big eyes, and when they settled on Olivia, he giggled and stuck his tiny hands out, recognising a familiar, friendly face.

Olivia and Anton played in the living under Ingrid and Derek’s supervision, the two of them chatting on the couch, while Mapi and Robert came over to check on you and Camilo. They then headed out into the back and shortly after, laughter filtered inside and when you looked through the yawning, Robert was gesturing wildly in the air, and, you believed, he’d started telling one of his intricately conceived comedies to his audience.

When Ingrid and Derek brough Anton and Olivia outside, Eli and your mom–as was the tendency of grandparents presented with children–fussed over the little ones, cooing and awwing at their slightest movement. You stopped what you were doing to take in the warm scene, so distracted were you that you didn’t feel Alexia’s presence until she’d wrapped an arm around your waist as she placed a kiss on your temple.

You sighed, leaning into her touch, but you remembered you’d been in the kitchen for the last couple of hours. So, you pushed her away gently with your shoulder, whining, “Stop, I smell like food.”

To your chagrin, Alexia turned you around with enough force to make you squeal, before she made a show of burrowing her nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in loudly, and the movement tickled a giggle from your lips.

“Alexia!” You smacked her shoulder playfully, still laughing. “Stop, seriously, I smell horrible!”

“Oh, really? I can’t really tell. You smell delicious all the same.” She muttered against your ear, a hand splayed just over the bottom of your right rib. The statement made you flush in spite of yourself, your body too in tune with her wiles and you found yourself stepping closer to her before you remembered where you were.

“Alexia, our mothers are literally right there, don’t start.” You warned her under your breath, glancing where said persons were sitting beneath the shade of the gazebo, doting over the little ones.

“Fine,” sighed Alexia, pouting, but she took the ladle from you anyway, kissing you on the cheek. “Go freshen up and I’ll look after the food.”

“Thank you. I’ll be quick so you can shower before the rest gets here.”

You pecked her on the lips, grateful, and just when you thought she’d finally stopped with her shenanigans, a mischievous gleam glazed over her eyes and Alexia said with a suggestive half-smile.

“Or I can always join you? You know, to save water and all that.” She spoke it in a smug way, like someone who was pleased at having said the last words. And you were about to reprimand her again until you remembered something. When Alexia got like this, there was only one way to go about it: to play her game.

So you looked at her, making sure you dropped your lids just enough–the change in your demeanor instantly noticed by the way she stilled, staring at you with wide eyes and bated breath–and you stepped into her space, trailing a finger from her chest to her collarbone before you wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, going on your tiptoes and craning your neck forward until your lips brushed her ear.

“Keep that up and you won’t get any tonight.” You whispered low. You didn’t miss the way she shivered against you and you relished it. “You do want to take me, don’t you?”

Alexia nodded, as if on autopilot, her figure stiff.

“Okay. So, play nice until I get back, yeah?”

Alexia croaked out an agreement and, satisfied, you pulled back, taking in Alexia’s appearance, her pupils now blown and a delicious crimson streak had painted her cheeks, lips now slightly parted. With one last peck to her lips, you fled the kitchen.

When you passed the living room to get to the stairs, you saw Mapi and Derek sitting on the couch, and, upon seeing you, their lips curled into a knowing smirk, and Derek–the jerk–had the audacity to wag his brows at you.

“I think you broke her.” Mapi wheezed out while Derek clapped a hand on his thigh as he laughed. Your cheeks flushed and you ducked your head as you flew up the stairs.

After immersing yourself in a much needed cold shower, you headed down to the kitchen and relieved Alexia–who was still more than a little dazed when you got back to her– from her kitchen duty with a placating kiss on the cheek so she could freshen up herself. Half an hour later saw you and Camilo, and with a little help from Derek and Alba, finished with moving most of the food to the table outside, just in time as most of your guests arrived.

One minute there were only a handful of people lounging in the backyard, the next the space was lively with music and the sound of amiable company; the chatter from friends and family. The lunch commenced and after the toast for Elisa’s recent signing under Barçelona Femeni’s First Division, Elisa stood to thank everyone for coming. And then, she turned to you and Alexia, who wrapped an arm around your waist, steady and strong.

“To my mom and Coach,” Elisa’s deliberate emphasis drew laughter from everyone, while Alexia raised her brow, lips quirking in amusement at the light jibe.

“To my mom and Mamá,” Elisa corrected herself, and she proceeded with a choked voice, eyes reddening, “I am forever grateful for what you’ve done for me. For all your love, your continued support and comfort, and for believing in me. I love you. I love you so much.”

You clasped a hand over your own lips in fear that a sob would escape them but tears spilled down your face all the same, and you gripped Alexia’s hand on your hip as your chest filled with love. When you turned to Alexia, her lips were pressed in a thin line, chin trembling, as she tried to keep the tears at bay, her eyes, like yours, shone with pride.

And so there you were, much later, under the shade of one of the trees in the backyard, nursing a glass of something stronger than champagne–Mojito to be exact–regarding the scene before you with a warmness that, you knew, transcended that of the sun’s.

Elisa was in jovial conversation with her friends and Ingrid–football related, you supposed, by the way Ingrid gestured in the air and the way her juniors were listening attentively; Camilo engaged in what seemed to be an interview by your mom and Eli–for recipes, most likely–while Derek and Lucía–Irene’s wife–looked on them with amused expressions as the both of them talked; Mapi and Robert partook in a game of football as goalkeepers on opposite teams: Mapi, Mateo, and Olivia against Robert, Gabriel–Irene and Lucía’s second son, Mateo’s junior of three years–and Anton; Alexia and Irene, meanwhile, stood to one side, their hands clasped behind their backs, as they stood a vigilant watch over the children, commenting on the game with a light tone, exclaiming and clapping their hands every now, true to their profession.

The air was filled with glee, painting the atmosphere with a lightness of not only of the physical sense, but also of being that you couldn’t help but reminisce.

Alexia retired from football about two years prior but, as expected, the sport was never really done with her–or her with it. So, the Number Eleven jersey may have been put away, but Coach Alexia Putellas was very much involved with the growth of new Blaugrana bloods, involving herself with–and quite capably–developing and guiding Barça’s youth team. Although she was called to lead the Spanish Women’s National Football Team, after their years of continuous fighting for reform, Alexia rejected the offer for–in her own words–her heart belonged to Barcelona, leaving the responsibility to fall on Irene’s shoulders who had accomplished plenty in the short time she’d managed the team.

You, on the other hand, flourished in sport photography, accompanying Alexia or Elisa in most of their matches as per your contract with the club. But you were still very much part of the firm you and Derek built, larger now, involving yourself in its internal affairs and, if necessary, partaking in the journalistic side of things.

Speaking of, after Derek and Robert moved in together somewhere in your home city–even more so after Olivia was born–he gave you this Barcelona house despite your deep insistence that you’d buy it from him, but not without saying a little side remark, ‘You guys did the nasty there already. Keep it.’

You’d always wondered where home was, but now, as you took in the scene before you, and even more when you beheld the woman walking towards you, you knew, in your heart, where it was.

When she got to you, Alexia took your hand, lifted it, and she twirled you around gently, taking your glass from your other hand and placing it on a nearby surface. And as you stopped, she stepped into the space behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist as the both of you settled to a gentle sway in time with the music.

“What are you doing back here all by yourself?” She asked beside your ear but not before she pressed a chaste kiss on the side of your head.

“Just thinking.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment to better savor the feel of her body, strong and gentle.

Alexia hummed, you felt the rumble of it from her chest before you heard it right beside your ear, melodic, before she pressed a kiss on your bare shoulder. “About what, my love?”

“This. Us.” You lifted one of her hands, brushed your lips over her knuckles. “You.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“With you? Always.”

The both of you swayed and simply watched the scene in silence for a moment. Then a thought occurred to you but as you were about to voice it, Alexia beat you to it.

“The kids, they grow up so fast.” Alexia said in a wistful tone.

“They do. I still can’t believe Elisa turned 18 this year.”

Alexia sighed, “Oh, to be young again.”

You snickered. “You make it sound like we’re so much older. And it’s not that bad, is it?”

“No, not really.” A pause, then, “But that’s less time left loving you both.”

The softness of her answer wasn’t lost to you and your mind went to the conversation you had just the night before and your heart ached, so full with your love for this woman. You leaned back, enough that you could feel the way her heart beat through her shirt, and you squeezed her hand.

You turned your head so you could rest your forehead against the line of her jaw, closing your eyes as you sighed, “You know, you say and do these things that make me fall in love with you all over again.”

“Good. I’d like to keep it that way.” Alexia murmured. “And I will never stop loving you. You’re my person, always. I did tell you, didn’t I?”

The memory of white fabric, white petals thrown in a line between the pew chairs, trembling hands; the way the sun light shone on Alexia’s light brown hair and spun gold in them, her hazel eyes glassy and earnest and filled with so much love, and then, her words of promise; of always and forever.

She’d taken your right hand into the open palm of her left, a twin set of silver bands that rested on the fourth finger of each hand glinting in the late afternoon sun, as she pressed further into you, her cheek now resting against your temple. With your other hand, you cradled hers, tracing the coolness of the metal on her finger with your thumb.

Then you whispered, “I love you, Alexia. So much.”

“And I love you, my wife.”

And just like all the times you’d heard it, you shivered all the same.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.” You admitted as you turned in the embrace, immediately wrapping your arms loosely around Alexia’s neck after, fingers gently playing with her hair as you looked into those resplendent and doting eyes. And you asked just barely above a whisper, “Can you say it again?”

She brushed a strand behind your ear, tracing the line of your brow before her hands settled on your hips, eyes now lidded with even more affection.

“Ask me who I am.” Alexia said in the same tone, leaning close that you could feel the brush of her lips over yours.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Alexia,” she whispered, and then she added with a smile.

“Your wife.”

And then, you kissed her.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#weve finally come to the end and i just want to say thank you all for the love and support #i hope you stay safe this new year's eve and i hope 2024 will treat you all kindly #again; thank you #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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purple-imagines · 1 year

Text

Disaster

Pairing - Chase Davenport x Reader

Summary - Reader meets Spike for the first time

Warnings - kissing, swearing

Word Count - 697

Masterlist

“Y/N!” She heard Leo scream out of her phone, as soon as she answered it.

“Hello to you too, Leo.” She replied back.

“Can you come to our house? The lab to be exact.” She could hear banging in the background.

She narrowed her eyebrows, “why?”

“Well, Adam made Chase angry and Spike decided to make an appearance.”

The girl let out a sigh, of course. “Where’s Davenport?”

“Out of town.” She could hear Adam scream in the distance.

“Tasha too?”

“Yep. Are you coming?”

“Yes, I’m headed there now.”

“Good. Hurryy-” He hung up after screaming.

The girl walked the street to the Davenports, only 10 minutes away. Arriving, everything looked normal from the outside.

She walked into the house, seeing Bree on her phone on the couch, Adam in the hallway, looking out of breath, and Leo running into the living room.

“Thank God! He's in the basement.”

Y/N crossed her arms, “what’s in this for me?”

“Uh- Chase will do your homework.”

“We already do our homework together.”

“Oh.” Leo looked defeated, “I’ll cover for Chase next time y’all want to stay out past curfew.”

“Hm.. ok.” She shrugged, heading towards the elevator.

Going down towards the basement, she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. She’s heard of Spike, but never actually met him. She trusts Chase though, and according to Leo she could do it.

The elevators open and she’s greeted with silence. Walking through the doors, she hears a loud bang, causing her to jump.

She could see lab equipment all over the floor, some in pieces, others still salvageable. Spike was standing in front of the tubes, looking mad.

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he smirked, “what’s your name?”

Y/N crossed her arms, “Y/N.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Spike, but you can call me whatever you want.

She huffed. He was annoying, to say the least. “Well, Spike,” she jumped up onto a counter, swinging her legs. “What do you wanna do?”

“Other than you?” He continued to smirk, causing her to roll her eyes. “I want to destroy this place.”

“Ok then.” She slowly pushed a lamp off the counter she was sitting on. Keeping eye contact with Spike the entire time.

His eyebrows rose, he slowly walked towards his left, towards Davenport's inventions. Copying what the girl did, he slowly pushed one off, causing it to break in half.

The girl hopped off the counter, keeping eye contact, she walked towards the middle of the lab, taking her arms and sweeping everything off the table.

Back in the living room, Adam, Bree, and Leo were watching everything on Eddie's screen.

Leo drug his hands down his face, “what is she doing? She’s supposed to stop him from destroying the lab, not help mess it up.”

Bree shrugged, “it’s working.”

Looking back at the screen, they could see the smiles on both their faces. They were causing havoc, but were happy about it.

Now they stood face to face, about five inches apart. “If they kiss, I’ll throw up.” Leo gagged, walking over towards the couch.

Y/N put her forehead on Spikes, looking him in the eyes. “You happier now?”

He laughed, “yeah.” He pulled her in and kissed her lips. The girl slowly kissed back, putting her hands on the back of his neck.

Pulling back after a couple of seconds, she realized his hands were on her waist. “Chase?”

“It’s me.” She pulled him into her, hugging him tight.

He slowly pulled away, looking around at the damage. “Did I do this?”

“Not all of it.” She winced.

Chase let out a smile, pulling her into another kiss.

“Is it clear?” They hear Leo yell from the hallway.

They laugh as they let go of each other. “We’re good.” She called back.

Leo, Bree, and Adam walk into the lab, looking around at the disaster. Adam and Leo walk towards Chase, while Bree walks towards Y/N.

Bree bumps shoulders with her, “someone had fun.” She teased.

Y/N gasped, “you were watching?” Bree laughed and nodded.

Chase wrapped his arms around YN, “now I’ve got to see this video.”

#lab rats #lab rats imagine #lab rats imagines #nickelodeon #nickelodeon imagine #nickelodeon imagines #chase davenport #chase davenport fanfiction #chase davenport fanfic #chase davenport fic #chase davenport imagine #chase davenport imagines #chase davenport x reader #chase daveport x y/n #bionics #spike x reader #spike #spike imagine #fluff

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shayyprasad · 3 months

Note

Hi, congratulations on reaching over 100 followers! For your event, can you do a fluff imagine between y/n and Peter Parker when they are older? They have just welcomed a baby girl and on the day they take her home, y/n surprises Peter by putting the baby in a spiderman onesie, which Peter gushes over and maybe even cries a little. And after getting home, Peter gives the baby a tour of their place and they end the day all cuddling together.

baby jam | peter parker

thank you for requesting!!! ❤️❤️❤️ i'm sorry this took so long to get to you!!!!!

summary: in which you and peter welcome home a little girl. your little girl.

warning: none just tooth-rotting fluff and sleep-deprivedness

pairing: older!reader x older!peter

word count: 1.5k+ words

you couldn't take your eyes off her. because, god, she was the most beautiful thing ever.

and she was so beautiful because you made her.

you and peter.

may bennie parker, your (as of 12 hours) newborn baby. the last time you'd touched her was to slip on a spider-man onesie to suprise peter. and she looked adorable. like, so freaking adorable.

she laid there in the crib, and you rocked it back and forth gently. you would've had her in your arms, but one; you were beyond exhausted and didn't know if you had the energy to hold her, and two; you were afraid.

and there were so many reasons to be afraid!

what if you dropped her? you couldn't drop her! then she'd be jam on the floor. your eyes widened at the mental image, your soft newborn baby, with her squishy skin, reduced to a pile of—

"hey, angel," peter's voice brought you out of... whatever that was. his hand were slightly wet, since he just got out of the bathroom. peter wrapped his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. you rested your head gently on his, embracing his touch.

"wait. nah. wait, wait... is that?" he trailed off.

"a spider-man onesie? yep. it was half-off! isn't it so cute?"

and there he went, bawling again. "do you not like it?" you asked, starting to panic.

"no, no! it's perfect. she's perfect. you're perfect. i love you, i love you so much."

"aw. i know," you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"isn't she so pretty?" he murmured.

"well, duh. she's my child."

"our child," he corrected.

"mmmm... wasn't i the one who had to push her out?" you teased.

"mmmm... wasn't i the one who put her in there?"

"peter!" you gasped, "not in front of our child!"

"hah! you said 'our'!"

humming, "yeah. she's ours." you heard a wet sniffle, and pulled away, looking at peter.

"are you crying? again?" you asked, recalling how he sobbed when he first saw her at the hospital.

"honestly, i don't think i stopped," peter answered truthfully.

kissing away his tears, you grinned, "that's so cute."

"hm, well, y'know, i'm pretty cute." you rolled your eyes and peter perked up.

"we have to give her a house tour!"

"uh. if you wake her up, she's gonna start crying again. also, i haven't gotten sleep in more than 2 days, so i might start crying."

"that's all the more fun, then."

"what? me crying?"

"no! everyone's better when they're delusional and sleep-deprived."

you considered this, "true."

he scooped her up from the crib, so quickly (and in your opinion recklessly) that you held out your hands just in case.

"relaxxxx, baby momma," you wrinkled your nose at the name, "i won't drop her."

"okay, first, we aren't ever gonna call me 'baby momma', and second, we don't rely solely on the 'peter-tingle' when it comes to may. i don't want jam for a baby."

peter raised an eyebrow at your wording, but corrected you, "'spidey-sense' sounds cooler!"

"'peter tingle'," you whispered sharply.

"okay, buddy."

you narrowed your eyes at him, and opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you. "okay, baby may," he said, pretended to zoom her around, "house tour time!"

seriously, it wasn't that you didn't trust him, but you really didn't want to have to clean up baby jam.

"pete..." you whined, making grabby hands at him, "sleep?"

"but—"

"who's the one who just spent 6 hours pushing—"

"really quick, please? while she's in the onesie?" peter pouted at you, thrusting your baby at you like she was a damn doll.

"be careful," you muttered, "i only like strawberry jam. and sometimes grape," you added after a second.

"strawberry does hit different," he nodded.

you looked back at him, "i told you we needed sleep."

he waved you off, staring at may's squishy, half-lidded eyes, "this," peter declared, "is your baby bedroom. that's your crib," which you've already seen, duh. uh, that's a wall. there are four in this room. by the way, this is an apartment, a really tiny one, we're in because we cannot afford a normal, good one."

peter looked around. "okay, that's it here."

"ooh!" you jumped up, clapping your hand, "show her the diaper drawer next!"

he gave you a look, "why?"

"so she knows where she's taking her dumps?" you said, as if it were obvious.

"actually, why not?"

he pretended to fly here over (two feet) to the the dresser. you pulled it open, jazz handing. "ta-da! diapers."

he nodded in approval, "now our baby knows where she's taking sh-" you gasped, clamping a hand over his mouth.

"taking poopies. and peepees."

"isn't it funny how every poo-poo time is pee-pee time, but not every pee-pee time is poo-poo time?"

"hmm. yeah. oh! we should hit the living room!"

"common room," peter corrected.

"living room."

"no, common room sounds better."

"nuh-uh! living-"

"come on spider-baby, to the common room."

you huffed in defeat, but followed ensuite. "y'know, our apartment is tiny."

"we're broke."

"facts."

"do you think she can tell we're broke?" peter whispered, holding the baby away from him, in hopes may wouldn't hear.

"uh, she literally just got un-womb-ified. i don't think she can 'tell' anything."

"oh. yeah."

"yeah."

he was quiet for a second before pulling may back to him, "this is our very not tiny common room. because we're rich."

"well, don't lie to her!"

"i'm not. i'm sure we are rich. in some universe that's not this one," he added.

"okay," you contemplated it, "okay."

"there's not much here, baby may."

"that's the table. table," you enunciated. "and those are chairs. and that's a couch. and that's a vase. and that's a cond- peter, for the love of god, is that a dirty condom?"

"uh. no."

"is this how you want to raise your daughter?" you scolded, "well, is it?"

"no," he said, bowing his head in shame.

"i mean, what if she gets- like, i don't know, infected? she's got a weak immune system!"

"can you get infected from c-"

"peter benjamin parker."

"sorry."

"mhm. who are you sorry to?"

he faced may, "i'm sorry, dearest may."

"that's more like it," you said, mid-yawn.

"where next?"

"kitchen?"

"sure." he pretended to fly her around, making airplane noises. it was wholesome, but you were terrified he'd drop her the entire time and turn your baby into jam.

you followed after him, leaning against the wall as you watched him try and explain to a half-asleep baby what the difference was between a fork and spoon.

"now, this leads us to the evolution of the spork."

you watched him interact for a moment longer, trying not to fall asleep standing.

"do we need to show her the bathroom, too? 'cause she isn't even old enough to use the toilet," you paused, "or, like, anything in there."

"but it's part of the house tourrrr," peter whined. you sighed, giving in. but, jeez, it was such a long walk. such a long six steps there.

huh, you thought, the apartment was small. you stumbled forward, due to the lack of sleep, to your shared bathroom. peter was already there, educated may on the importance of a sink.

"and that right there, my love, is a toilet."

you teared up slightly, not because of the talk of toilets, but because of peter and may. this was it, this was the family you'd always wanted.

the family you'd always wanted with peter.

because from the moment you saw him, walking down the hall with ned in freshman year, you knew he was the one. (okay, that was a stretch but... still.)

"you take sh- poopies in it. but not right now. right now, you do them in your diaper."

you blinked, something putrid smell that entered your nose. it took you a moment but, "oh, may, sweetie, he didn't literally mean now."

the to peter, "i think you should change her."

"okay!" he sounded very excited to be changing a poopy diaper, but you figured it was the new-fathering. you shook your head, going after him as walked another six steps to the bedroom.

man, screw new york and rent.

you sat down onto the bed, groaning slightly. because, god, soreness. you watched at peter changed her diaper, cooing incoherent babbles to may.

he picked her back up, and you kept your eyes trained on them, "don't drop her, petey."

"ugh, i won't."

"you'll be saying that until we have baby jam stained on our floor," you muttered.

"that was... hmm. now i'm imagining things i don't wanna be. thanks." he placed may gently beside you, crawling under the covers.

"i love you," peter murmured, kissing you softly.

"i love you more."

he smirked, "i love you most."

you frowned, but let it slide. "don't roll onto our baby and turn her into jam."

"for the love of-"

didn't matter, you were already asleep. peter chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead, and then may's. he brushed a finger over may's cheek, wiping away a tear of his.

"i love you," and after a moment, "and i'd love you if you were baby jam, too."

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #angst #fluff #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #shay's 100 follower celebration #shay writes

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marlynnofmany · 7 months

Text

Seeing Faces

It’s rare when we get a shipment to deliver that’s not packaged somehow — either in Earth-standard boxes, another world’s version of shipping crates, or a livestock pen of some kind. Even that bunch of alien trees had been thoroughly wrapped at the bottom. But this collection of machinery parts didn’t have so much as a layer of cling-wrap on it. I guess the owners figured these things were sturdy enough not to need it.

They were probably right. The metal chunks were heavy. I tried to guess what they were made for as Blip and Blop muscled the biggest ones onto a hover sled, clearing the way for Paint and me to gather up the smaller pieces. Captain Sunlight bid the customer farewell and shut the cargo bay door.

“I think these look like vertebrae,” I said to Paint. “Greasy vertebra. Ew. I’m going to need a new shirt.” The offworld engine oil of whatever didn’t seem acidic at least, so that was nice. I sighed about the black smears.

“Strange vertebrae,” Paint said, juggling her own armload of odd shapes that didn’t seem to be rubbing off on her orange scales. Not that I was jealous or anything. “There would need to be a dual spinal cord.” She tapped a claw on one of the holes.

“Hm, yeah. There are probably animals like that,” I said. “Or robots, as the case may be.”

Ahead of us, Captain Sunlight opened the door to the appropriate storage hold, then headed off on captainly business. It was impressive how different a vibe she gave off compared to Paint, for all their physical similarities. Both were little lizardy people, but one strode with her lemon-yellow head held high, every inch the authority figure, while the other was Paint. She somehow bounced when she walked, even when weighted down by unwieldy metal things.

“I’ll bet these stack really well,” Paint said. “They look like they interlock. We could probably build a spinal column without them falling over.”

“We probably could,” I agreed. “But I don’t want to be the one responsible for bending one of the flanges because we wanted to test it out.”

“Hm. Yep yep yep. But I maintain that we could.”

“We could.”

The two of us entered the storage hold to find Blip and Blop racing to see who could unload the sled faster. It’s not that the Frillian twins were overly competitive, but they were twins. They’d apparently hatched at the same time, and had been in a low-key competition to see who was better at life ever since. But they smiled while they did it.

“Done!” Blip declared, setting down a lump of metal big enough for Paint to hide behind. She raised her hands in triumph, fins fluttering.

“Doesn’t count,” Blop said as he put down his own piece. “You didn’t line them up right. Mine are tidier.”

They squabbled about this while Paint and I unloaded our metal chunks nearby. I had to kneel to keep from dropping the things. It would be just my luck if they did warp on impact, or bounce off each other and whack me in the shin.

The Frillians took their debate out the door before I finished. They’d already moved on to who could steer the hoversled with the minimum of touching.

“Ha,” Paint said. “They do stack.”

I turned to see only one of the things set on top of another, with Paint ready to catch it if it slid. She took it down before I could say anything.

I just nodded and arranged my own into a reasonable huddle, then wiped my hands on my shirt. It was only when I moved toward the door, with a look back at the big pieces, that I got a good look at the one that Blop had set on its side.

This was the logical place to put it, not sticking out past the rest, but the thing that caught my attention was the shape when seen from this angle. Those two holes could have been eyes, and the flanges were shaped like stubby arms. There were even a couple slots in the middle like nostrils.

I burst out laughing.

“What?” Paint demanded.

“It looks like Zhee!” I said, pointing. “Big bug eyes and everything!”

“What does?” Paint asked. She came to stand next to me, following my arm, but just looked confused. “Where are the eyes?”

“These!” I said, stepping closer and pointing at the holes. “And those are the arms. Isn’t it perfect?”

Paint cocked her head as if slightly tilted vision could unlock the answers. “Arms?”

I repeated myself, but she still looked lost, so I found a notepad and pencil in a storage cupboard —reliable even when the batteries all run out — and sketched what I saw.

“Ohh, I get what you mean now,” Paint said when I showed her. “Those parts are lifted like pincher arms, and those are roughly the same proportion as Mesmer eyes.”

“Yeah, it’s uncanny,” I said.

Paint took the notepad to study it closer. “How did you even notice that?”

“It was pretty easy,” I told her. “It just jumped out at me when I looked from the right direction. Like seeing faces in clouds, you know?”

Paint’s blank expression said that she didn’t know.

“Do you not do that? Find patterns of familiar shapes in random things?”

“No?” she replied. “Is that a thing I’m supposed to be doing?”

“You don’t have to! It’s just something that everybody does on Earth, ever since we’re kids. It’s probably from a long history of watching for camouflaged predators in the bushes. You’ve got camouflage on your planet, right? You must.”

“Yeah, sure,” Paint said easily. “But I guess not that much. I’ve never seen a face in a cloud; that sounds terrifying.”

“Not really; it’s more like feeling smart for spotting something. Well,” I amended. “It could be a little unsettling if you see a skull or something. But that’s rare. There are whole systems of divination about this sort of thing.”

Paint looked like she was about to ask a million questions, but right then the sound of familiar clicking footsteps tapped down the hall.

“Zhee!” Paint called, whirling with the notebook in her hand. “Zhee, look what Robin saw!”

Zhee came into view looking just as eyecatching and purple as usual, halting at the doorway while Paint eagerly explained the conversation we’d just had. Quickly and enthusiastically. With lots of waving the sketch around, and pointing back at the machine part.

I felt like apologizing as he stared with an unreadable alien expression. His antennae weren’t even moving; I couldn’t tell what he thought of it all.

Finally Paint finished talking. “She says it’s probably because her species watches for predators in the bushes. Isn’t that amazing?”

Zhee made a point of looking slowly from the sketch to the metal thing, then to me. I braced myself for judgement.

Instead, Zhee raised his pincher arms into the same pose and declared, “I am the danger that lurks in the bushes.” Then he slunk out of sight, many legs scuttling in a quickstep way that he knew darn well I found creepy.

Paint blinked at the empty doorway, still holding the notebook.

“Aw, man,” I said. “He’s picking things up from Trrili.”

Paint immediately closed the notebook. “We definitely shouldn’t show her.”

“Agreed!” I said.

After a moment of thought, Paint tore the page out and handed it to me, then took the notebook back to the cupboard. I pocketed it with a final glance at the metal vertebra that looked remarkably like a cartoonish Mesmer squaring up for battle.

Someone had left a roll of no-residue marking tape on a box nearby. I grabbed a strip and stuck it onto the metal, with the ends curved up.

Now the thing had a goofy grin that possibly no one would recognize. But if there were any humans on the receiving end of this delivery, they ought to get a good laugh out of it.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

8 Days of Christmas — Baby, It’s Cold Outside

pairing: agent whiskey x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, jack being jack, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink obviously, dom!jack, cock grinding? idk, riding, creampie)

word count: 2.2k

8 Days of Christmas Masterlist

It was a long, cold day at the slopes, Jack having spent the better half of the day trying to teach you the basics of skiing which, more often than not, ended up with you landing flat on your ass. You may have found the day irritating if it hadn’t been for the amount of hearty, full-bellied laughs your clumsiness had pulled from your usually reserved boyfriend.

Now, with a sore ass and sore cheeks from smiling, you and Jack made your way back to the private cabin he’d rented out for the weekend. The two of you had a busy year, only seeing each other at night and on the weekends, except for when Jack was called on by the Statesmen. Both of you deeply craved some time alone together, uninterrupted by the demands of your busy careers, and what better place than in the middle of the snowy woods during Christmas, when everyone was too busy with family to bother you?

“I think my ass is gonna be ice cold and sore for the next week,” you groaned as you finally made it inside the cabin, Jack quick to turn the heater on while you kicked off your snow boots. “Gonna have to take it easy on me tonight.”

“Oh, is that so, sugar?” He chuckled, walking to you in the entryway, his arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you with that winning smile of his.

“Mmhm,” you grinned up at him, holding his face in your hands. “You’re not gonna get overeager and start throwing me around like you like to do?”

“Only if you beg,” he winked, leaning down to give you a sweet peck. “How ‘bout you head your fine ass into the bathtub while I whip up some supper?”

“You gonna bring me a glass of wine, too?” Jack playfully rolled his eyes before nodding.

“Of course. Whatever the queen demands.” You leaned up on your toes to give him another peck on the lips, this time letting it linger long enough to earn a hum from your cowboy. “Alright, sugar. Don’t get me all worked up if you ain’t plannin’ on deliverin’.”

“I always deliver, don’t I?” you asked with a smirk, pulling away from him to head off towards the master suite. Jack slapped your ass as you walked past him, earning a hiss and a scolding glare. “Watch it, cowboy.”

“Oh, believe me, I am, darlin’.” He made a point to eye your ass through you snowsuit, making you laugh and shake your head as you left him for the warmth of the bathtub.

One glass of wine later, and you were sat on Jack’s lap at the dinner table, the two of you too needy to sit in your separate seats while you ate. He lifted his fork to your lips, feeding you a piece of perfectly cooked steak before doing the same for himself. You hummed at the taste of his cooking and shook your head.

“I have no clue where you learned to cook so well,” you started as you took a sip of your new glass of wine. “Another woman perhaps?”

“Yep.” You scoffed, swatting his stomach playfully. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout my damn mama, sugar. No need to get jealous.”

“When it comes to you, there’s every need to get jealous. Where else am I gonna find a man that looks this good, treats me like a queen, and fucks me like a slut?” Jack’s eyes widened at your words, chuckling as he lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips.

“That wine gettin’ to ya?” You shrugged, playing coy. “What do you say we take this party over to the fireplace, hm? Get cozy?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Jack walked you over to the sofa, ordering you to “sit your pretty ass down” while he lit the fireplace. You grinned into your wine glass as you watched him bend over, the grey of his flannel pajama pants showcasing his adorable ass while the white of his perfectly form-fitting t-shirt stretched over the expanse of his broad shoulders. Feeling impatient, you uncrossed your legs and slid the hem of your silk nightgown up to your hips, your fingers running up and down your lace-covered slit as he turned around.

“My, my…what a sight,” he praised as he stalked over to you with a winning smile on. “Gettin’ started without me, sugar?”

“Just getting warmed up,” you replied in a pure, tugging him closer by the waistband of his pants. Jack was grinning as he watched you sit up a bit, your eyes locked on his as you undid the tie around his waist, your hands then smoothing over his thighs, purposely avoiding the growing tent in his pants.

“You gonna play with me all night?” he questioned, reaching to smooth his fingertips over your jawline. You shook your head, smirking at him as you brought one hand to his bulge, stroking him through the fabric. Jack let out a soft moan and bucked his hips into your open palm, his head falling back as he allowed you to tease him to full hardness. “Jesus, darlin…”

“Can I take these off?” You lightly tugged on his pants, earning his gaze again. Jack nodded eagerly, pinching your chin before watching you shimmy his pants down until his cock was springing free, the leaking, purple tip hitting your lips. You giggled at the attack and gripped him at his base, staring up into his eyes as you pumped him against your puckered lips. “Mm, you’re teasing me but you’re just as worked up from your whiskey.”

“It ain’t the whiskey, it’s just you, sugar,” he assured, combing your hair back. “Now why don’t you go ahead and have a taste?”

You smiled before sticking your tongue out and flattening it, tapping his thick head against it just to watch his brows crease.

“C’mon, don’t tease,” he begged in a rasp that went straight to your clit. Wrapping your lips around him, you sucked just the head into your mouth, earning a deep growl from your cowboy, his fingers tangling in your hair. “That’s good, baby…keep goin’ just like that.”

You couldn’t help the whine you let out from his praise, sucking him deeper into your mouth until you were kissing your fist wrapped around his girth. Jack’s moans were now given freely, his hand in the back of your head guiding your movements as you bobbed on him, working your throat up to taking him all the way.

“Baby girl,” he cooed, his lips formed in an ‘o’ as he watched you, his head tilted to admire your good work. “That mouth is heaven and hell all in one.”

You pulled him out of your mouth just to smile, spit stringing grin your lips to the head of his cock. Jack couldn’t resist bending down to kiss it away, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you. You hummed against him and pulled him closer by his neck, Jack willingly following you onto the sofa. He rested between your open thighs as you laid all the way back, his hands running over the silk of the nightgown he’d bought you last Christmas.

“As much as I love the sight of you in this number, I’m gonna need you to take it off for me,” he husked as his thumb brushed over your nipple, causing your back to arch into his touch. Jack stripped while you peeled your nightgown off and tossed it onto the floor, leaving you only in your red lace thong, his eyes turning black with lust as he took you in. “Look at you sprawled out like a damn pinup.”

“You gonna touch me or just keep looking?” you purred, spreading your thighs for him. Jack’s jaw ticked as he watched you slip the lace to the side, exposing the glistening sheen of your pussy.

“You’re a damn gift to mankind, sugar.” He laid on his stomach, his head resting on your thigh as his mouth remained just an inch from your pussy, his fingers stroking through your slick. “And all mine, right?”

“All yours,” you confirmed with a grin. “Why don’t you go ahead and taste my pussy, daddy?”

“Your pussy?” He questioned with a quirk of his brows. “C’mon, sugar. Whose pussy is this?”

You grinned mischievously, biting your lip. “Mine.”

“Oh, is that so?” He chuckled and kissed your thigh. “Maybe I need to remind you? Or…maybe the best way to remind you is by doin’ nothin’ at all.” He sat back on his ankles, crossing his arms over his chest. You frowned at the absence of his body heat, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you in challenge. “Go on. If it’s your pussy, why don’t you make yourself cum.”

“Jack,” you pouted, sitting up and crawling to him, straddling his lap. “It’s your pussy.”

“Yeah?” He watched as you rocked your hips against his cock, sandwiching it between your pussy and his belly. “I don’t think you deserve my mouth yet, sugar. Not after that.”

“Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip and earned a half-smirk, his hands coming to rest on your hips to guide your movements.

“Get yourself off like this and then I’ll give you my mouth, baby girl,” he ordered and you eagerly obeyed, rocking your hips against the underside of his cock, your clit catching deliciously on his fat tip. “Yes, baby…just like that.”

“Fuck,” you whined, brows furrowed as you looked down at the slick now coating his cock as you worked yourself up to your first climax. “Can I put it inside, daddy?”

“Thought you wanted my mouth, sweet thing?” He chuckled and cupped your face with one hand.

“I want your cock,” you pled, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster through your pleasure. Jack cooed at you, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip. “Please, I’m so close. Want you inside me when I cum.”

“Alright, sugar,” he nodded, pulling your face closer so that he could press his lips against yours. “Go ahead and take it. Take what you need.”

You shivered as you guided his cock into your heat, both of you gasping against one another as you fully sheathed him in your wetness.

“Jesus,” he growled, his hands now gripping your hips as he guided you on him. “That’s fuckin’ good, baby. Riding me so good.”

“Jack,” you moaned, tipping your head back as his cock brushed against your inner bundle of nerves.

“Need my fingers, baby?” He asked sweetly, bringing his lips to the base of your throat. You nodded quickly, nails clawing at his shoulders. Jack smiled against your skin, seemingly pleased with your eagerness as he brought to fingers to your clit, stroking perfectly pressured circles against it.

You shivered with a moan as your high started to slowly trickle through your every nerve, radiating from where he was connected to you to the very tips of your toes and fingers. “Oh, fuck, Jack, baby…god.”

“There ya go…sweet thing,” he cooed, laying you back against the sofa and bringing his body to hover over yours. He ran his hand over your cheek and admired you like you were the most delicate thing he’d ever see. “Ready for one more, sugar?”

“Fuck, yes please,” your hands cradled his neck and jaw as his thrusts turned sharp, hips snapping harshly into yours while he kept his eyes locked on you. “Jack, I love you…fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too, pretty thing,” he promised, giving you a sweet kiss that was the total opposite of the thrusts he was giving you. “God damn…you’re squeezing me so tight I can hardly pull out.”

You did nothing but mewl, your eyes squeezing shut as he hit that spot inside of you that blurred your consciousness, his shit-eating grin going unseen by you as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

“That it, huh? That’s the spot?” You nodded quickly, not wanting to give him any reason to stop. “Look at me when I make you cum, sugar. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

“Oh, god, baby,” you mewled, your face scrunched up as though you were in pain but you were deep in bliss as your second high dawned upon you, Jack’s grin widening somehow as you looked him in the eye. “Jack, I’m—“

“I know, I can feel it, baby girl,” he chuckled and leaned in, kissing your chin. “Gonna fill you up now, that alright? If I fuck you full of me, sugar?”

“Yes! Fuck!” You writhed for him as you came, chest heaving and eyes squeezing shut to rise out the waves while Jack’s thrusts turned animalistic, his growls and moans filling the room like your favorite song.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he groaned, pressing his cock as far inside you as you’d take him. You opened your eyes in time to feel his cock pulse inside of you, Jack’s eyes screwed shut, his brows creased, his bottom lip pouted as he let out a string of moans and curses, his hands roaming over your stomach and hips for purchase.

“That was so good,” you praised, raking your fingers through his dark hair. Jack chuckled, finally coming back to earth. He let his weight fall on top of you, hugging you into the plush sectional and remaining inside you.

“I gotta get you wine-drunk more often, sugar.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld @pedropascalsx @laureliciousdefinition @rocketrhap3000 @fishingforpike @lexloon @littlemisspascal (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to future content!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x y/n #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x y/n #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #8 days of christmas

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lyranova · 1 month

Note

Leopold x reader, Leo asking reader out and they’d getting together officially please?

Hiya anon! Ooo a Leo x reader 👀? I don’t think I’ve written an Xreader for Leo before, so this was pretty interesting and fun! I’ll admit; I do have a hard time picturing Leo in a romantic setting, but I hope I potrayed him well and that you enjoy anon! Also because you didn’t specify what pronouns to use, I just made the reader Gender Neutral!

Taglist: @thoughtfullyrainynightmare (because Fue makes an appearance 🤭)

Word Count: 1,683

Warnings: None

————

“ Aniue~! Aniue, I need your advice!” Leo exclaimed loudly as he rushed into his older brother’s office. Fuegoleon jumped a bit at the sudden noise, but he quickly recovered and looked up from his papers.

“ Leo? What is it?” He asked, his voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. Leo quickly rushed up to his desk and placed his hands on the edge before leaning forward.

“ I need your advice on how to ask someone out on a date!” He announced loudly, his words echoing around the large room and in Fuegoleon’s ears.

He…wanted to know how to ask someone out on a date?

The room was silent as he let his little brother’s words sink in.

“ This ‘someone’ you’re talking about; do I happen to know who they are?” Fuegoleon asked curiously, and he watched Leo smile brightly.

“ Yep!” He answered simply, and Fuegoleon chuckled in amusement.

So, it was them. To say Fuegoleon was surprised would be a lie. He and Mereoleona had a feeling there was something between Leopold and his friend; but both had figured their little brother was too…focused on other things to even notice that a certain someone was harboring a crush on him.

But now it seems like Leo had noticed, and maybe even reciprocated their feelings…he really was growing up, at least a bit.

“ I see,” Fuegoleon began as he placed a thoughtful hand under his chin. “ Well, in my experience I’ve always found that being up front and direct with people, especially those you care about, was the best way to approach things.”

Leo tilted his head.

“ If that’s the case; then why did it take you so long to ask Sister-in-law out on a date?” Fuegoleon quickly felt his cheeks heat up at Leo’s words, and he cleared his throat while averting his gaze.

“ That…was different. But right now we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” He said quickly, turning the subject back around on his younger brother. “ and I think you should be honest and just ask them directly.”

Leo nodded.

“ Thanks Aniue!”

Leo then rushed out of his brother's office, leaving Fuegoleon sitting there in amusement.

—————

“ You and I are going out on a date!” Leo declared loudly one day after the two had a sparring session, and they blinked in surprise.

“ What?”

“ You and I are going out on a date!” He repeated boldly and with a bright, happy smile.

“ We are? When?” They questioned in confusion.

“ Hm…I think now’s perfect!” He told them after thinking for a moment.

“ Now? I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” They told him honestly, making Leo tilt his head.

“ Why not?” He asked, and they sighed.

“ Well, don’t people usually go on dates at night? It’s currently midday.” They pointed out as they stared up at the bright blue sky, causing Leo to follow suit.

“ Oh right, then… let’s go on our date tonight!” He said cheerfully, and they nodded in agreement.

“ Yeah! Let’s do it!” They agreed brightly.

So later that evening, the two would go on their date.

————

“ Sir, is this really okay? I mean, what if Lord Leopold spots us?” Randall asked as he, along with the other Crimson Lion members, hid behind the stone balcony that looked over the courtyard of the Vermillion estate.

“ He won’t,” Fuegoleon assured his Vice-Captain as he looked over the balcony. “ He’ll probably be too focused on them to even pay attention to us up here…at least I hope he will be.”

“ Here he comes, Captain!”

The Crimson Lions all ducked back down behind the balcony as he heard the two’s voices echo through the stone courtyard.

“ So, are you ready for our date?” Leo asked them, and they nodded eagerly.

“ I’m ready! What are we going to be doing for our date?” They asked, their tone full of curiosity, and without missing a beat Leo responded.

“ What we always do: spar!”

The courtyard went silent, and the Crimson lion members all looked at each other in disbelief while a few even face palmed at the young lords words.

“ What do we do sir? Should we go down there?” Randall asked hurriedly, and Fuegoleon hummed in thought.

“ Let’s see how things play out. If it seems like the…date may go south, then we’ll go down there and rescue Leo.” Fuegoleon instructed them quietly. Each of the Crimson lions exchanged nervous glances, but they all nodded.

“ Our date…is a sparring session?” They asked hesitantly, and everyone in the balcony paused.

“ Yep! Isn’t it cool? I figured this was the perfect date idea for us!” He told them proudly. “ What do you think?”

The Crimson lions sat in the balcony anxiously, their gazes focused on their Captain as they waited for him to give them orders. But Fuegoleon just held up a hand, his eyes not leaving the two youngsters as they stood in the center of the courtyard.

“ I think,” They trailed off softly, causing the Crimson lions to wait with bated breath. “ I think this is the coolest date idea ever!”

The Crimson Lions all looked at each other in shock, except for Fuegoleon, who merely chuckled.

“ Really?! You like it?” Leo asked, his voice a mixture of surprise and excitement. They nodded.

“ I do, I really do!” They exclaimed happily as they ran up to Leo and grabbed his hands to hold them. “ Thank you Leo, this is going to be the best date ever!”

Leo’s face suddenly turned as red as his Crimson Lions cape, and his heart started to pound rapidly against his chest.

“ Y-You’re welcome!” He stammered nervously, and even though he was clearly nervous he didn’t pull his hands out of theirs.

“ So, are you ready to do this?” They asked Leo excitedly, and the youngest vermillion quickly nodded.

“ Well, that wasn’t what I expected to happen,” Randall said with a nervous yet relieved laugh, and Fuegoleon nodded in agreement.

“ I won’t lie and say I wasn’t nervous as well,” Fuegoleon began. “ but I had faith that Leo could pull it off.” He added as a warm smile appeared on his face.

————

Throughout the evening the two youngsters in the courtyard laughed and trained together. Their spells flying all over the place. But eventually the two decided to call it a draw, and eventually rested on the ground beside each other.

As they laid there staring at the stars, Leo’s gaze drifted from the sky to the person lying next to them.

While most people would focus on their crushes appearance, Leo was the opposite. His focus was on their personality. Would he admit that they were good looking? Yeah. But is that what attracted him to them? Absolutely not. What made him attracted to them was their passion; and oh boy did they have a lot of passion!

Their passion for life and their work was just so…beautiful! It was a bright, blazing beauty that he had only ever seen and experienced with a few people outside of his siblings, squadmates, and rivals. Their passion warmed those they considered a friend, but burned those they considered an enemy. Just like his flames!

Maybe this amazing person lying next to him was the personification of fire itself

“It’s weird,” Leo began, unknowingly thinking out loud. “ I never thought I could feel like this, but then you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.”

The person lying next to him slowly turned on their side to face him, their eyes wide and their mouth slightly agape in surprise.

“ What..?” They asked, their voice barely above a whisper due to their shock. Leo rolled onto his side as well, smiled warmly, and then reached out to take their hands in his.

“ For the past few months, I’ve been trying to figure out why I’ve begun feeling weird around you,” Leo began softly, his eyes staring down at their hands. “ And one day, when I heard Aniue talking about Sister-in-Law, it suddenly hit me; the reason I’ve been feeling weird is because I like you.”

“ You make me feel more confident, and like I can do anything I set my mind to! Your hard work and fiery passion makes me want to work harder and become more passionate too; you make me want to be a stronger and more fiery person both in life and as a Magic Knight.” Leo continued before his gaze moved from their entwined hands to their face.

“ I really, really like you! So please; will you do me the great honor of being my partner?”

After Leo’s declaration, the courtyard fell silent. The only sound the young vermillion could hear was his heart drumming anxiously in his ears. He could see a swirl of emotions in his crushes eyes, but he couldn’t pick them out individually. Instead, all he could do was hope that those emotions were all positive…

“ Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that Leo?” They asked softly, as tears began to form in their eyes and their bottom lip began to tremble slightly.

Leo’s eyes widened and his mouth parted in surprise at their reaction…

Oh…so all this time, they were waiting for him…

They suddenly pulled Leo in a warm and tight embrace. Their body began to shake slightly as they cried tears of joy and happiness, and while Leo felt regretful that it took him so long to finally come to his senses, he couldn’t help but also feel relieved that they felt the same way about him as he did about them.

“ I’m sorry for making you wait, next time I’ll be much quicker, I promise!” He assured them softly, making them laugh slightly and shake their head.

“ Aniue~! I did it, I really did it!” Leo shouted excitedly, making his partner laugh at his antics.

Meanwhile, up in the balcony, Fuegoleon sat on the ground with his back facing the courtyard.

“ You did well Leo,” He muttered softly as a warm and proud smile appeared on his face. “ I’m proud of you.”

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#asks #anon🌟#black clover #black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot #black clover x reader #black clover x y/n #leopold x reader #black clover leopold #leopold vermillion

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vodika-vibes · 1 month

Note

I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕

Silent Night

Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 725

Warnings: None

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!

“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire.

The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”

“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.

She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”

“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”

Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”

“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.

“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”

She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”

“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”

She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”

“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”

“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”

He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”

“Hm?”

“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.

“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”

“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”

She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”

“No?”

“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.

Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”

She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.

“I’ll stop, if you want.”

“Well now, I didn’t say that.”

She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”

Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”

“Yeah, if it’s alright.”

“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”

“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.

She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.

Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle.

Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.

#star wars #tbb #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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norel-ravenclaw · 9 months

Note

hello!! :), i would like to request a live action nami x fem reader where they go skinny dipping together for the first time, thank u!

Skinny Dipping

Nami • One Piece

Fandom: One Piece Live Action (OPLA)

Featured character: Nami

Genre: Spicy romance

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1400

Description: Skinny dipping with Nami~

(I’ve only ever seen the live action One Piece, none of the anime or manga sorry!)

Obsessed with this, so thanks anon! Also this woman helped me accept that I’m gay so I’m thrilled to see her as Nami~

WARNINGS: | gender neutral reader | basically heavy kissing and petting |

From the other side of the beach, Nami and I stand exhausted yet wired as Luffy screams something about a pistol. And just like that, it’s all over. All around us, crates and driftwood blaze. A ship is sinking off shore, with pirates screeching and shouting blame.

Zoro marches off past us, muttering under his breath and not waiting another second to get back to the Going Merry. “Fuckin pirates.”

Nami’s hair is lightly smoking. “Hell, we need a vacation.”

Sanji follows after Zoro. “And a long, hot bath.”

I finally sheath my sword. “Yep.”

~~~

Back on the ship, we all help patch each other up and make an easy meal before going our separate ways to chill.

When Nami heads towards the railing to let down the gangplank, I call after her.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she gestures towards the island. “We passed by some tide pools earlier. They should be filled nicely now. Come join me.”

Aching everywhere but not wanting her to be alone on the island with survivors from Luffy’s latest (and rather ironic) dream-crushing escapade, I follow after her.

The blazing heat of the afternoon has died down some as we walk down the beach. Both too tired to say anything, I find myself glancing at her frequently, wondering how the graze wound on her shoulder is doing.

She doesn’t miss a thing as she gives me a side eye. “Either you’re trying to have a telepathic conversation with me or you’re undressing me with your eyes.”

“W-what?! No! I mean, no. I was just wandering how your shoulder is, that’s all.”

She shoots me a smirk. “Is that all?”

Blushing hard, I nod urgently. “Yeah.”

“Hm. Well that’s no fun.”

My step falters a bit in shock. I haven’t been on the crew for long, and have desperately tried to keep my infatuated crush on her a secret. So to have her flirting with me? Maybe?!

I clear my throat and catch up. “No? Then what kind of fun do you want?”

Reaching a line of boulders, she nimbly climbs up and looks back over her shoulder at me. The setting sun sets her ablaze in a phenomenal silhouette.

“Like I said.” My breath catches in my throat as she suddenly takes off her shirt. “Join me.”

My jaw is hanging slack as she drops the rest of her clothes on the rock and jumps into the water on the other side.

After a momentary mental reboot, I scramble up the rock, and am shocked by the tropical paradise awaiting beyond. A perfect ring of rock around a turquoise pool glittering in the sunset’s glow. Tropical plants and palm trees sway in the warm evening breeze. And in the water, Nami’s shock of fiery hair flows around her blissed out face as she swims, the water obscuring her bare form beneath.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there like a creep or are you gonna join me?”

“R-right. Coming!”

Trying not to overthink things (like being an idiot trying to make a show of getting naked for her) I pull off my clothes, quickly folding both our outfits so they’re easier to get into when wer’re done.

“Alright, um, coming in.” Taking a breath, I jump off into the pool.

The sudden sensation of the water enveloping me lasts only a moment before my aching muscles instantly thank me. I groan in relief at the feeling of the grime and sweat being swept away.

But then I remember that Nami is naked right next to me. IM naked right next to her. And my heart sets off racing again.

She laughs at my awkwardness and splashes some water at me. “Are ya just gonna sit there or what?”

I gasp at the sudden assault, and smirk back at her. “Oh you’ve done it now.”

Next thing we know, we’re engaged in a heated water fight, which ends with me cornered by some rocks as Nami boxes me in.

Once she’s too close for me to splash her anymore, I pull my hands back - but not before accidentally brushing her waist.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

But her eyes lock on me with a different kind of intensity. “No it’s okay.”

We stare at each other, panting a little from our game. The sun is sinking below the horizon now, leaving the most vibrant colour being her hair. …That beautiful hair sticking to her face and shoulders in sensual strands.

“You can do it again if you want.”

I can feel my face heating up. “…What?”

She moves closer, her legs brushing mine. “Like this.” I gasp as her hands go to my waist. I can’t stop myself from glancing at her lips, glistening with droplets of water.

The feel of her skin on mine under the water has my senses nearly overstimulated. “Nami…”

Her expression softens a little as she chuckles at me. “I’m telling you it’s okay. Go for it.”

There’s no holding back now. I reach out to touch her waist as well, misjudging due to the water’s altered perception - and end up grabbing onto her hips instead. I stare into her sharp blue eyes, watching every reaction as I caress her skin.

She puts her hands on my shoulders and suddenly leans in to kiss me. We part and come back again and again, trying new angles and exploring each other’s lips and tongues. I rub along her waist and back, sometimes teasing down her hips.

After she thrusts her tongue into my mouth, I grab her ass and pull her closer. The feeling of her nibbles brushing against my chest makes me gasp and moan out loud.

“Nami…” I dive in for more, attacking her neck and collarbones with kisses.

Using my shoulders for leverage, she moves to straddle one of my thighs, pressing herself against it. We both moan at the feeling, and I’m delighted that the new position lifts her out of the water enough for her small breasts to be exposed.

I lean in to kiss and gently suck at the gentle curve of her chest while she rubs herself against me. When she moans out my name, I can’t help but squeeze her ass. She reaches up to play with my nipple, but I quickly redirect her hand to her own breast. She moans appreciatively, pleasuring herself with more vigour.

We lose ourselves in the lazy yet frantic pleasure as the night settles around us. I kiss her until both our lips and her nipples are swollen.

Her moans become higher pitched as she gets closer, and I help guide her hips to keep up the rhythm of her grinding.

“That’s it. Cum all over my thigh.” I reach down to rub at her clit myself, and she whimpers urgently. Her hips buck against my hand until her whole body is wracked with undulating spasms.

I hold her waist securely as she rides out her high, finally dropping her head on top of my own.

“Damn, that was good,” she pants.

I rub her thigh comfortingly. “Yeah? You look like you’re in heaven.”

She moves down to meet my eye and kisses me again.

Just then, we hear voices from a distance.

“Damn, they’ll find us,” she complains. Looking back at me, I can see her expression twist a little in the moonlight. “You did’t get your turn.”

I smile at her and kiss the tip of her nose. “I’d do anything for you, you know. Use me for your pleasure anytime. It’s worth it to see you feeling so good.”

At this, she freezes a little, and I wonder if she’s blushing. “…Thanks.”

Happy to have gotten to see her shy, I chuckle. “Come on, let’s get dressed, milady.”

I help her up to the rocks (given that her thighs are still shaking) and hand her the clothes I’d folded earlier. We race to dress before Usopp’s voice is close enough that we can shout out a reply.

“Nami! Y/n! Where’d you guys go?”

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming! Don’t get yourself in a snit!”

I smirk at her annoyed tone, and again she looks at me a little bashfully. Fuck that’s adorable…

Hearing them getting closer, I reach over to help pull her shirt down over her stomach as she tugs her pants on.

Standing so close, she whispers, “So uh, anytime, you said?”

Unable to hold back my smile, I give her a quick kiss. “Any damn time at all.”

#opla nami x reader #gender neutral reader #norel writes #opla #one piece #one piece Nami #opla nami #one piece live action #one piece live action nami #one piece smut #one piece live action smut #opla smut #opla x reader

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buckybuckyboo · 4 months

Text

BUCKY GOING BACK ON ICE

Summary: Bucky doesn't trust his own mind and decides it's best he goes back on ice.

word count: 1104

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asks.

"I can't trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing" Bucky looks down to his lap "For everybody". He smiles at you. Tears in your eyes as you listen to him.

"How long do you think it will take?"

"We don't know for sure, could be days, maybe weeks". You start to cry not able to hold back the tears anymore. Walking over to Bucky and hugging him tight. You place your hands on his face looking into his beautiful eyes. "I love you. I will visit you every day"

"You don't need to do that doll, I'll be fine"

"I'm gonna visit you, There is not much you can do because you'll be frozen" you both chuckle. Leaning in and kissing him softly.

"Steve? Will you look after her for me?"

"Of course Buck"

Steve walks over to T'challa and they talk while you enjoy your moment with Bucky. You hug him tightly, tears streaming down your face.

"It's okay baby. I'll be right here"

"I know Bucky, it's just not the same but I understand why you have to"

"Thank you for understanding" He strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. T'challa and the others get everything ready for Bucky. You walk him over and watch him settle into his cryostasis chamber, kissing him one last time and stepping back beside Steve who wraps his arm around you.

"It will be okay Y/N, he will be okay"

"I know, I'm just gonna miss him".

Both of you watch as the chamber closes and in seconds he is frozen. You kiss the tip of your fingers and press them against the glass.

"Come on Y/N, let's go get a drink or something hm?" Steve smiles.

"Okay" You sniffle, never taking your eyes off Bucky till you're out of the room.

The next couple of days were tough. Not sleeping at night and just being worried. Every morning you wake up, get dressed, and ready for the day. Grabbing The Hobbit book and heading down to Bucky's chamber. Greeting everyone that was working and bringing them some coffee. Taking your seat beside him. They had given you a little speaker to attach to his chamber so that he could hear while you read to him. You weren't sure if he could hear but it didn't matter, you just wanted to be with him. Turning the speaker and mic on, you start to talk.

"Hi baby, good morning. Time for the next chapter! Yey!"

Sitting back in your chair and reading for him. When you finished the chapter, you started reading him some of the sports from the online newspaper and then any gossip you had heard around Wakanda.

"Where do polar bears keep their money? In a snowbank." He loved cheesy jokes so you looked some up on your phone.

"Why do cows wear bells? Because their horns don't work" You heard some of the people around chuckle a little.

"What did the tomato say to the other tomato during a race?"

"Ketchup"

You hear across the room.

"Hi Steve, dinner time already?"

"Yep! You ready to go?"

"Yeah one second"

Standing up, kiss the tip of your fingers and press them against the glass where his heart is.

"I love you, see you tomorrow."

Picking up your stuff and handing the speaker and mic back. When you approach Steve he takes your bag off your shoulder caring it for you and brings you to dinner.

"How many chapters did you get through today?"

"Just two. Then read him some sports stuff and told him any gossip I had"

"Gossip?"

"Not gossip just telling him what goes on around here"

"He has no idea how lucky he is" Steve smiles while taking a drink.

"I'm the lucky one, I just miss him"

"I know you do, how are you sleeping?"

"Not very well, Bucky is like my big teddy bear and it's not the same without him. But that's okay, it's just an adjustment for now"

"I'm proud of you Y/N, you're staying strong"

That makes you smile.

"Thank you, Steve, you can only cry so much" you chuckle.

"Would you like to watch a movie tonight? Might take your mind off everything for a little while"

"Sure! That would be nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You go sit and I'll clear the table"

You leave the table and wait for Steve to join you for the movie. Both of you having a nice night together.

"I better try get some sleep. Thanks for everything" Walking over and kissing his cheek.

"You're welcome Y/N. If you need anything just come get me okay?"

You nod your head to your room and get into bed.

The next few days played out the same, reading to Bucky and then dinner with Steve. Except one night you just couldn't relax, nothing was helping and you just needed your Bucky. Grabbing your pillow and blanket, you head out of your room and make your way to Bucky's chamber. You knew the passcode for the door and closed it behind you. Walking up to his chamber you smile "Hi baby, I'm not sleeping so well. I'm gonna stay with you tonight".

Setting your blanket and pillow down, you lay down while looking up at him. You drift off to sleep after a while. Maybe it was the best sleep you've had since he went on ice. In the morning as the workers started to come in and were shocked to see you asleep on the floor. They wait until Steve is notified and he comes to get you.

"Y/N" Gently shaking your shoulder. You slowly start waking up and see him.

"Steve?"

"Yeah doll, it's me. What are you doing sleeping here?"

"I couldn't sleep and I just needed to be with him. I'm sorry everyone. I know I shouldn't"

All the workers smile and tell you it's okay but you can't do it again.

"I told you, you can come to me if you need anything"

"You would have said no" You giggle.

"No more sneaking in okay"

"Okay Steve"

He takes you to get some breakfast and you both are joined by T'challa.

"I know I'm sorry it won't happen again I promise," You say quickly as he sits down.

"Thank you but I think it's time to take Mr. Barnes off the ice"

Almost choking on your drink "Really!?"

"Yes, I think it's time."

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #sabastian stan #bucky fluff

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bridgetotheskyyy · 7 months

Text

chapter three.

masterlist

Chapter summary: You and the Sand Siblings go on vacation and, in the process, you and Gaara grow closer . . .

Chapter warnings: violence near the end, mentions of gambling lol, sexual tension, angst

Word count: 12k

A/N: (I encourage everyone to read the notes of this chapter from my ao3 as they're quite extensive lol)

Read on ao3 here

The paper stack damn near reached the ceiling.

You stared at it. “Wow.”

“Yep.” Kankuro approached the chair, slouched into it. “This is what it looks like when a war ends and you put off all the serious stuff.”

The paperwork pile was hardly the most eye-catching thing in the office; Kankuro had brought Crow, Kuroari, and another puppet, whose name you hadn’t learned, into the room. They slumped against potted plants, readied for polishing or tweaking the moment their daddy required a break from the workload.

Still, your eyes returned to the pile and wondered how many of the sheets referred to the Kazekage’s imminent marriage. How many mentioned you by name?

Your brow quirked. “What kind of serious stuff?”

“Boring stuff.” Kankuro yawned as he swiveled in the Kazekage’s chair. “Only thing that makes it bearable is knowing I won’t have to see any of this stuff for the next few days.” He shot his fists into the air. “The beach!”

“The beach!” You echoed. A thought occurred. “Have you ever been to one?”

“No.” Kankuro chuckled, kicking feet up on the desk, arms behind his back. “I’m like you; desert child through and through. Never even seen one. Can’t wait.”

“But you’re a shinobi!” You said. “I bet you’ve been all around.”

“I have,” Kankuro said. “But, I don’t know, it just never happened.” He looked out the window, where the day was uncharacteristically clear. A smile tugged on his lips for reasons eluding you. “When you’re a shinobi, you get to go to lots of exotic locales, but there’s not a lot of time for sightseeing.”

Your gaze climbed the bodies of the puppets with awe. “Such amazing powers you all have.”

“Don’t be so quick to envy us,” Kankuro said. “It’s not a very glamorous life; you’re usually fighting for your life or trying to take somebody else’s.”

“At least you get to determine your life.” You barely heard yourself in your reverie. “Or, if you don’t like it, fight to get out of it.”

“Yeah?” The Kazekage’s chair creaked; Kankuro must have leaned forward in it. “And what are you fighting to get out of, (Y/n)?”

You sobered, turning your head to see Kankuro staring. “Hm? Oh — Sorry, I was just …”

“(Y/n).” Kankuro was serious now. “Temari wasn’t too hard on you the other day, was she? Look, I know she can be scary — uh, most of the time — but, when you get to know her, she’s —”

“What? No! I—” You swallowed, surprised by yourself. What was wrong with you? You couldn’t black out like that! “I don’t — know where my head went just now!”

For seconds more, he was quiet, only watching you inquisitively. You felt spotlighted.

The hand of the analog clock at the wall caught your eye. Nearly noon.

“I better go get Gaara.” You headed to the door.

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Kankuro asked from behind.

“Yes, definitely,” You hastened, only to halt your hand at the knob. “Oh, by the way, how exactly are we getting to the beach?”

Another smile tugged at Kankuro’s lips as he pulled a cloth forth from the desk drawer, likely for polishing. “Oh, that’s a surprise.”

You continued self-flagellating as you traipsed through the halls of the Kazekage’s palace, attempting to find a way out of its maze.

What was wrong with you? Like being a shinobi would give you more power over your life, access to your fate. Hideo was a shinobi. Did he control his fate?

Did anyone?

You were controlling your fate now — rebelling against your father, choosing Gaara and his siblings. You had grabbed the rope of fate.

You only hoped it didn’t slip from your grasp, burn your hand in the free fall.

You caught eyes with someone as they rounded the corner opposite you. Someone familiar … Rough lines creasing his aged face, Suna council garb —

“Elder Joseki,” You greeted.

Joseki’s eyes widened imperceptibly upon recognizing you. “Lady (Y/n),” he drawled. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay in the Sand.”

“Yes,” You replied coolly. “It’s been most pleasant. Thank you.”

Joseki studied you with a demeaning glare, the same one he had fixed you with at the party a century ago. You couldn’t tell if it was you he was displeased with or the world.

“And,” he began, “I’m guessing Lord Kazekage hasn’t told you anything of … importance?”

“He’s told me enough.”

“Has he?”

You matched his cold stare with your own. “Your dislike of the Kazekage seems personal.”

Joseki advanced. “He’s more dangerous than you know, my lady. More dangerous than you can conceive. Do not buy into his act; the villagers are still deeply afraid of him, they only pretend to love him.” He clenched his fist. “Seas could not contain the amount of blood that boy has shed.”

You hardened yourself to his speech. “Personal, and most unpatriotic.”

“I only hope you will reconsider,” Joseki urged. “Return to your village before it is too late, and you are trapped here with more enemies than friends.”

“If you insist on riddles, I’m leaving.” You hurried past him.

“Going where?”

You stared crookedly at him. What right did he have to be so forward? So familiar? You had no reason to answer, but a desire to bite back at him corrupted you. “If you must know, the Kazekage and his siblings are taking me on a trip.”

Joseki’s eyes went wide, his skin paling. “You — You can’t be left alone with him!”

“You have stepped out of bounds, Elder.” Your voice was harsh. “We have nothing further to say to one another.”

“Lady (Y/n), wait —!”

But you were already on your way, blocking Joseki from your mind.

You were so sick of paranoid old men.

He’s just like father … a pathetic old man, all of them.

You found Gaara asleep at his desk in the greenhouse, surrounded by the small cacti he fathered and loved so much.

You tiptoed forward to see his face, plastered, along with his arms, against his desk. You had never seen him so vulnerable. Gaara’s eyelids, rimmed with coal-black, were closed, and his lips parted to exhale gentle breaths expanding his chest.

So cute.

And intimate.

Just days ago, you had sat in the same chair and told Gaara about your brother’s death. You squirmed with the memory. You refused to think of Father’s letter, the allegations that Gaara had been the one to …

Gaara stirred in his sleep. You hated to wake him — and considered against it. You leaned forward —

Something caught your eye. You turned your head. Behind a series of tall plants, something large loomed in the shadows. Something made of sand.

You tiptoed away from Gaara, synchronizing your steps with his gentle snores. Brushing banana leaves aside, you saw:

It was a sand-made statue of a woman. Short-haired and kind-eyed, along with the prettiest hands you had ever seen. It was only a second or two before you realized who she must be.

Karura.

You made your way back to Gaara and leaned over his shoulder. With a loving begrudge, you began to rouse him.

“Gaara …!” You gently nudged his shoulder. “Gaara!”

His eyes cracked — flew open.

He shot up. You were face to face. Your lips almost touching —

“Eep!” You jumped away as his face turned red. “I’m sorry!”

“No …” Gaara looked around as though surprised by himself. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Can’t tell you how much I didn’t want to wake you.”

He smiled. “I catch up on sleep now whenever I can; I guess I sleep deeper than I thought.”

“That’s a good thing,” You assured him. He works so hard as the Kazekage that Kankuro taking over gives him time to breathe.

Gaara’s eyes roved over you, an arm roped over the chair. “You look nice.”

You admired yourself; you had been more casual in your dress since Temari had taken you shopping. A white shirt, underneath which was some fishnet you had become smitten with and borrowed from Temari’s closet (she said if you wore it some might mistake you for being a shinobi, which only made you want to wear it more) and simple black pants were what you choose to go with today.

“Thank you.” You hung your head bashfully — only to be reminded of the statue and redirected your gaze toward it.

Gaara followed your attention. He stiffened. “You saw it …”

You met his eye and shared the vulnerability swimming there. “I … hope you’re not mad; I wasn’t trying to snoop, I … It’s very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s of her, isn’t it?” You said. “Your mother.”

Karura. The modest woman with the pretty name. You had only seen small portraits of her here and there, tiny mementos her children clung to in their efforts to never forget her.

“Yes,” Gaara said, rising from his chair to approach the statue. “I was inspired last night. I’m never really satisfied with the work I do.”

“Don’t say that.” You followed him, feet instinctively carrying you wherever he went. “She would have loved it.”

Gaara’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your assessment. He faced you as the two of you stood side-by-side, admiring the sand stature. “Do you think so?”

You turned to give him a smile. “I know so,” You affirmed.

Of course she loved him; who wouldn’t?

And you don’t know if you did it on purpose or not, but your index finger came to brush against Gaara’s. You were thrown by the fire the slightest touch erupted in your belly. You looked down to spot your finger’s treachery. Gaara seemed neither to care nor mind.

Your heart cartwheeled when he took your hand in his hold, the skin of his palm warm and secure against your own.

You remembered how it felt to be cradled in his lap seconds before you had leaped away, his hands on your shoulders … Something purred inside you, compelling you to lean into the hand hold.

You cleared your throat and broke away without knowing why. “You don’t talk about your father much, I notice.”

A shadow came over Gaara’s face. “The relationship the Fourth Kazekage and I had was … difficult.”

“You’re speaking to the choir with that one.” You giggled. You wiggled the hand Gaara once held in hopes of eradicating the tingle there. “I won’t pry.”

“No,” he said. “It’s all right. I was his … experiment.”

Cold water ran over you. You paused.

Experiment. It was the same word Joseki had used. How odd …

A bitter laugh from you. “I think we’re all experiments of our parents.”

Gaara relaxed, seeming to be grateful for the out you’d given him.

“Lord Kazekage,” a new voice entered the greenhouse, and the two of you turned to see a servant. “Lady Temari told me to fetch you. The party is ready.”

“Ooh.” You turned to Gaara with a conspiratorial smile. “And it begins.”

Luggages were hauled into carriages while Sand and Oasis ninja gathered to accompany the four of you on your vacation. Staring at the carriages ready for departure by the gates of Sunagakure gave you a strange sense of deja vu.

“I’m not looking forward to getting back into those things,” You said to Gaara.

He didn’t answer you.

A strange puppet you hadn’t recognized from Kankuro’s collection lay hunched by the side of the carriage. Temari came through the gap between carts, wielding a metal bar you couldn’t identify. She was followed by Kankuro and Baki.

“I hope the two of you have considered what I said,” Baki said.

“Oh, believe us, we have,” Kankuro said, and he and his sisters tapered into giggles.

Baki sighed before catching sight of you. His demeanor transformed; the fatherly air had returned. “Lady (Y/n)!” He said warmly.

You returned his smile. “Hello, Baki.”

Baki turned to the carriages. “We took the luxury of packing your things for you. I hope you don’t mind. None of your things were extraneously handled, and I made sure your privacy was secured.”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble,” You said. “I don’t need much!”

One of the carriage doors was left ajar; you spotted the luggage you had come with.

“None at all,” Baki said. He gave a warning look toward Temari and Kankuro, who only bowed their heads. “I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”

You sighed, the reality of another carriage ride looming ever nearer. Let’s just get this part over with.

You made to hop into the carriage —

Someone caught your hand. You looked to your side and Gaara was there.

“What’s wrong?” You let Gaara lead you away from the carriage by hand.

“Oh,” Kankuro pointed to the carriage, “that won’t be your ride.” He shut the carriage door and turned to the ninja. “Start moving! We’ll catch up!”

The ninja scurried away while the carriage jerked to life. It rode down toward the village gates.

You looked toward Gaara with a nervous laugh. “What’s going on?”

Gaara simply smiled and swept his hand —

And enveloped you in a small sandstorm as tides of sand whipped past you. The wind pulled at your hair and toward Gaara. A giant platform solidified at his feet. He nudged you gently toward him and the two of you bumped hips as the platform began to float.

Float.

Your scream crescendoed as the platform carried the two of you into a cloudless sky. The vertigo had you gripping Gaara’s shoulder as the entire village sprawled beneath you. Its spidered streets and huge, domed buildings grew smaller as Gaara directed the two of you away from the village.

“I thought this would be a fun way to travel,” Gaara said, before looking down at you clutching his arm to add, “but, if you don’t like it —“

“Are you kidding?” You screeched. “Go faster! Faster!”

Temari and Kankuro were at a lower altitude, carrying themselves over the Suna gates by their own machinations; Temari’s metal blade was actually a fan she used to glide over the gate, while Kankuro’s puppet was somehow attached to his back, propelling him through the air with giant batlike wings.

“As you wish,” Gaara murmured, and sped up.

You could do nothing but gawk. The desert spilled out past the gates like a giant ocean; rolling dunes towering like waves, seeking to outdo one another as their hills stretched out over undisturbed cerulean. You detected the ninja and carriage below, but barely, having been reduced to mere ants from the altitude.

“This is amazing …” You breathed out.

“Come.” Gaara lowered himself on the platform to sit criss-cross. “Sit.”

You clutched onto him hard as he aided you. You let your legs lay out on your side. You traded his arm for his neck — hesitated, until Gaara allowed your touch, and you wrapped arms around him.

“I would never let you fall.” Gaara bowed his head forward with an assuring stare. “You know that?”

You nodded. A calm smile graced his lips, perfect on his face. His hand rested gingerly on your waist, sending your heart into a back-flip. Wind ruffled his crimson hair, bits of sand carrying into the air. And in that moment you believed Gaara had never lied once in his life.

Your hold on him mercified. “I believe you,” you whispered.

I was right. Amazing powers. You looked back to see Temari, the wind rippling her ponytails, laughing in the air. She watched Kankuro do flips and dips in the sky, folding and reopening his puppet’s wings. Squeak. The cork of Gaara’s gourd loosened to free yet more sand, and in midair the strips of sand morphed to become butterflies.

They were all gods to you.

One butterfly landed on your cheek, kissed your face, and you giggled. “How is this possible?” You asked.

Gaara’s ease lessened. “I was … born with special gifts. Because of a spirit.”

You glanced at him — only to do a double-take. Your eyes widened.

Wait.

Were they really gods?

“The spirit is gone, but very little of my power has dwindled,” Gaara added.

You leaned into Gaara’s side, allowing this new information to sink in. You were curious, so curious, and for once your father’s intentions did nothing to pervert that curiosity; you were enthralled.

You tilted your head. “What kind of —“

But then you realized; you were close again, so close, even closer than when you were in his lap nights ago. Your arms fastened around his neck, his hand holding your waist. There was no startling need to get away this time, only a growing need to dispel the remaining inches.

Gaara stared at you from the corner of his eye, smiling. No blush, no fluster.

The sun shone in your eyes. You cupped a hand over your forehead to visor them.

“The sun looks amazing on you …”

You were not prepared for the husk in Gaara’s voice. Heat colored your cheeks. You raised your head to him. Your heartbeat quickened in your throat as your eyes got lost in the turquoise of his. That sweet, serene green —

A gust of wind blew past Gaara’s face to ruin the moment.

You gasped, spun your head. “Not funny!” You yelled.

Kankuro and Temari only laughed and flew ahead of the two of you.

It was a full three hours of flight before a town, nestled into a cliff, came into view.

It was hard, after the fanfare of the last three hours, to both literally and metaphorically come down to earth. The moment Gaara had you on the ground, and the four of you huddled at the town’s gates, you playfully socked Kankuro’s arm.

“O — ow!” Kankuro chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was gonna do that?” You play-hissed in his ear.

“It was my idea, actually,” Temari said smugly.

Your hand flew to your chest to feign shock. “Female solidarity is dead!”

“Let’s hurry to the hotel,” Gaara said. “While it’s still nice out.”

The four of you ushered into town, as incognito as possible to avoid causing a stir. You wove your way through the streets when wet hit your nose. Salt graced your tongue when your lips parted.

The sea.

Excitement added élan to your steps. You barely maintained the proper pleasantries as you entered the hotel lobby. The group revealed identities and startled the receptionist — along with the rest of the staff, one of them prompted to fetch the hotel owner.

“Lord Kazekage!” He bowed furiously, sweating just as much. “And his lovely siblings! Oh, oh, this is such a surprise! What an honor!”

“Sir,” one of the staff whispered in his ear, “I’ve seen her. She’s Lord Boutoku’s daughter, she’s marrying the Kazekage next month —”

“LORD BOUTOKU’S DAUGHTER —?!”

Kankuro slapped a hand over the owner’s mouth as people in the lobby looked away from their newspapers and fine breakfasts to mind the commotion. “Mind keeping it quiet! Someone might overhear!”

The owner fished a handkerchief from his pocket to dab himself. “Yes, of course …! My apologies, Lord Kankuro …!”

“Look,” Kankuro’s eyes flickered every which way as he leaned in conspiratorially, “we’re here on a little weekend vacation, all right? We’d appreciate it if you helped us lay low.”

“Oh, oh.” You were sure the owner would go into shock. “Of course, certainly, oh, whatever you need, we’d be more than happy to provide!”

“Thank you, sir.” Temari was all charm and smiles as she slid a mysterious gold card to the receptionist behind the desk. “If you could just set us up with rooms now.”

“Of course, of course!” the owner said. “Only the finest for the Kazekage and his family!”

And he hadn’t lied; the rooms were enormous. It occurred to you just how little Gaara had to actually do as the Kazekage; only a few minutes had passed and already he had been secured the most luxurious room due to his title. It was decided: You and Gaara would share while Temari and Kankuro would have their own separate quarters. Gaara’s, of course, was the largest. He grew concerned on your behalf and asked if you wanted a room of your own, but, as there were two beds in the suite, you didn’t mind. And anyway, Gaara was the most trustworthy man in the history of men.

“And besides.” You held back giggles as Temari and Kankuro collapsed on plushy couch cushions. “Your room has the best accommodations anyway — we’ll all just end up congregating in here anyway.”

“If you’re sure about it.” Gaara let himself smile as he examined the room. “We really must thank the owner for his hospitality. They are nice rooms.”

“A big tip!” Kankuro said, sinking into the cushions with pleased sighs. “The biggest!”

“I’m so sick of buildings,” You said, nearly bouncing up and down. “I want the beach!”

“We might as well,” Gaara said. “I would hate to make you wait any longer.”

You gulped, imagining that phrase in a different context. What’s wrong with you lately? Too much Icha Icha!

The four of you retrieved the beach appropriate clothing and items from your bags and left the hotel. It didn’t help that the hotel had such lovely views of the beach — the bluest water you had ever witnessed. So close.

It was a five-minute walk until the beach, its plush sands transitioned from orange-beige to white, came into sight.

“Whoa,” Kankuro said.

The waves curled and laid on the shore. Your eyes widened.

You ripped your shoes off and ripped past people cluttering the beach. You were through with your inhibitions. You expected to hear someone call for you to come back, only to glance over your shoulder and see Temari and Kankuro following you into the water. You let out a delighted scream as you plunged headfirst into the toiling waves.

Only then did you remember you didn’t know how to swim.

“Okay,” Kankuro motioned what was called a backstroke, “just lean your arm out like this —“

“No!” You squealed. “I’ll drown!”

“Don’t be silly!” Temari said. Temari, who had decided she was already tired of the water, opted instead for a beach chair, sunglasses, and a smoothie underneath a shading umbrella. “You’ve got three of the strongest shinobi in the world watching over you. No one would let you drown — especially Gaara.”

Gaara, against all odds, could swim himself. He shadowed you in the water, holding his arm out to you.

You pouted. “I thought neither of you had ever been to the beach.”

“Well, we know how to swim,” Kankuro said. “We’re shinobi, remember? Trained for every occasion.”

“I can continue helping her,” Gaara said as Kankuro made to help you. Something unknown passed between them, and Kankuro backed off.

“I’m, uh, headed back to shore.” Kankuro performed his so-called backstroke. “Take care, you two!”

You waved him goodbye.

“You’re doing well,” Gaara said. “Do you like the beach?”

“I love it!” You cried. “I can’t wait to catch starfish and, oh!” — You let go of Gaara — “shells —!”

“(Y/n!) —!”

Without his arm, you went under. Your cries transmuted to bubbles as you flailed. A wave brushed you aside, jolting you into panic. You flailed harder. Hands grabbed you and pulled you to the surface.

“Are you all right?” Gaara’s voice was muffled by the water in your ears.

You looked over your shoulder to see Gaara holding you. Wild crimson locks clung to his face. Shirtless.

“I—” You spit saltwater out before answering, blinked water from your eyes. “Yes.”

Your skills improved as Gaara taught you the basics, and soon you could bob your head over the water without support. Pleased with this progress, you decided on a break. You two emerged on land to admire the view.

“Finally,” Temari said. “Thought you two would be at sea forever.”

“It’s really nice, Temari.” You pat your hair dry. “Sure you don’t wanna join?”

“I realized I prefer the view.” Temari took another sip of her drink — only to suck at the bottom of her cup. “I’m gonna get another.”

“I’ll come with,” Kankuro said. “I’m starving.”

You and Gaara were left alone on the beach now. You looked back at the waves. They coiled, crested, and collapsed to bask on the white sand with rhythmic harmony, as though dancing to a tune you were too ignorant to hear. You sighed.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” You said.

“Yes,” Gaara said. “It is …”

“But how can there be a sea next to a desert?” You said. “It just doesn’t seem possible …”

“It’s indeed possible, if the air on the desert side is dry enough.”

Amazing … You looked out into the horizon. The world was such a magical, beautiful place — and your delusional father had kept you from it.

“You know,” You let your towel slip into your lap, “back home, it’s said that our oasis was once a sea. A lot of us believe that.” You paused; did you believe that? You hadn’t thought much of it, only thought it was such a pretty myth. “Or a gift from a spirit, after our first village head, Goro, slayed a horrible beast.”

“It sounds like an amazing place,” Gaara said. “I hope, one day, you will take me to see it in person.”

Your father shadowed the conversation, dimming the light of the tales running rapid in your head.

“Kankuro has told me some things about it, though little has been written,” Gaara continued, looking straight ahead. The shade of the umbrella shrouded all but one leg as he propped an elbow on a knee. “About how it has magical properties. Is that true?”

You cast your gaze to your feet, which you burrowed into the sand. Your knees were hugged to your chest. “I don’t really know. The truth is, I’ve never seen it myself. Father forbade me, said I’m not ‘ready.’ Everyone I know, I know from him.” Like everything else. “He’s told me stories … I just know people who aren’t from our village can’t access it or drink its water. They need permission from the village head. But …”

You leaned forward to take his hand, enamored with the way your fingers intertwined with his.

“Once we’re married, you’ll be considered family,” You said. “We’ll see it together.”

Gaara ran a thumb over one of your fingers, considering you with a faint smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

You unearthed a new dream. You gave it life and love and cradled it close to your heart. You watered it, as Gaara did his beloved plants, to keep it strong, and so it flourished in your mind’s eye: You and Gaara, visiting the oasis together, lounging underneath palm trees and sparkling water. You made to clench your hand until you remembered Gaara was holding it.

I can’t let Father destroy this dream. I can’t.

Gaara looked over your shoulder. “Oh, Temari and Kankuro are coming back …”

Temari and Kankuro sulked back to your section on the beach.

“The stands have nothing good,” Kankuro sighed. “Let’s go in the hotel to eat.”

“That’s Kankuro language for ‘let’s gamble,’” Temari snickered.

“I would never kid about food!” Kankuro argued. “I’m seriously hungry.”

“So am I.” You stood and dusted off your skirt. “Let’s go”

“Very well.” Gaara reclaimed your hand to help him off the beach, gave it a squeeze. “It will be on me.”

You secured a round table in one of the hotel’s swanky restaurants. It turned out Temari was right, because the moment your order came, Kankuro snatched his tray and made his way to the seductive poker tables to lose only the gods knew how much money.

“So predictable.” Temari rolled her eyes, crossing her legs at the table.

You played with your fries, twirling them in the ketchup — something that would’ve gotten you a firm lecture back home — while Gaara set down his glass.

“I meant to ask you both,” Gaara began. “When you went out shopping, did anything interesting happen? Did you talk about anything?”

You and Temari froze. You focused on the smiley-faces you were making with your ketchup pile while Temari scrambled for words.

Your sister told me in so many words that she would rip my throat off if I so much as laid a finger on you — which makes all this a hundred times harder …

“Uh, I — aha, well.” Temari continued to stammer, worrying a napkin in her hands. “We …”

“Just girl stuff, that was all it was!” You chirped.

“Ye—Yeah!” Temari said. She waved him off. “Nothing that would interest you, or — or any man, really!”

“Any man …” Gaara parroted. “I see.”

“No offense!” You nudged him assuredly.

He raised his head. “Does that mean you discussed the wedding?”

“Hm?” You blinked. You were caught off guard; in fact, there had been no discussion of the wedding since you’d arrived. The wedding that was meant to be a wedding.

The wedding that was only a sham to get you here.

“I think I would like a more traditional wedding, like Naruto and Hinata had,” Gaara said, surprising you with his forwardness. “You would look beautiful in traditional attire.”

“Uh.” This was not something you thought he would ever have any interest in.

“It seems like something the council would approve of, considering how stubborn they are about the old ways of doing things.” Gaara stiffened. “Only if you wanted. I thought we could discuss it over this vacation.”

“Gaara!” Temari scooted smoothie number five away, scandalized by her brother’s forwardness. Clearly, she had never met this version of her brother before, either. “What brought this on?”

“Our friends from the Leaf have been ecstatic about the news,” Gaara said. “And, as it’s only two or so weeks away now …”

“I think we should wait until we’re all gathered to talk about this, don’t you?” Temari’s amicable, sweet-older-sister voice was so incongruous with the woman you had come to know.

“I agree,” You hastened, thankful for the save. “That way we can all be in the know. I mean, Kankuro’s not even sitting here.”

“I think you may be right,” Gaara said bashfully. “Sorry about that. I guess I just got carried away for a minute there.”

“Not at all,” You said before biting into another fry. He’s so cute.

You had come to realize there was nothing quite like Gaara flattery; he was so earnest, so sincere. And he was excited about the wedding, about marrying you. The wings of your heart brushed your ribcage. But you didn’t want to have this discussion; it brought your lie(s) to the forefront of your mind. It was too raw, and you were not yet strong enough to weather it, to invite the others into your delusions. Only you could have these fantasies in the privacy of your mind where nothing could reach them.

But it was another facet to the dream you’d begun to nourish.

A new thought slotted in with the rest: Gaara mentioned Naruto, seventh Hokage — his friend.

“You’ve said before that you know Naruto Uzumaki personally.” You leaned in with curiosity. “What’s he like?”

“An absolute goofball,” Temari said.

“A true friend,” Gaara amended. “And an incredibly strong and formidable opponent.”

Temari shrugged. “Yeah, that, too.”

Gaara began sharing amazing anecdotes about his adventures with his other shinobi friends, how he and Gaara had fought after the attack on Konoha (you paid special attention to your meal, averting your eyes from anyone else), how the Leaf ninja had changed his perspective on life, how addicted he was to ramen. Your head spun with it all, especially when they used what you suspected were special shinobi words from their lexicon.

“And he was trained by Jiraiya,” You said, awed. “The same Jiraiya who wrote the Icha Icha series?”

“That’s the one,” Temari twirled her fork with sarcasm, head in her palm.

“This is all so incredible …” You said.

“Really?” Gaara said. “Is that so?”

“It’s a shame I can never meet him …” You said solemnly. “If things had turned out differently, he would be coming to the wedding as well — I could even get a signed copy!”

“The world is so cruel.” Temari feigned sadness.

Gaara wore an expression you had come to know when he was deep in thought. “I could get Naruto to arrange something, regardless.”

“Really?” You said as Temari choked on her drink.

“Gaara, no,” she said.

“No, no.” You echoed her sentiments, albeit for a different reason. “You’ve done enough for me.”

Blingblingbling. A series of metallic sounds blared as machines blazed their dispensers with coins. Gaara furrowed his brows. You could tell he was not fond of the hotel’s busy atmosphere, the endless commotion — not to mention the cigarette smoke.

“Let’s go to our rooms,” You said. “It’s getting late.”

Gaara perked. “Really? If you don’t mind …”

“Not at all.” You faced Temari. “Right, Temari?”

“I could get a break from the beach,” Temari said, waving the smoke away. “And the smoke.”

The three of you took the elevator back to the room floors and traipse the hallways, looking for your respective rooms.

“Thanks for saving me back there, by the way,” Temari said, cupping a hand over her mouth conspiratorially.

You chuckle. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted in general,” Temari said. “I’ve been meaning to apologize, actually. I was hard on you. But … Gaara’s my little brother and all, I’m sure you understand.”

“Absolutely,” You said. “Something tells me my …” You fought a stutter in your throat. “… brother would have done the same for me.”

Hideo would always be the gnawing pang at your heart. You realized that as you approached the knob to admit you and Gaara into the room.

You turned the knob —

Crying. Wails.

You gasped. “Who is that?”

The three of you looked to the corner of the hallway — the source of the sound — where Kankuro was rounding, tears streaking his makeup.

“Kankuro?” You said.

“What’s happened?” Gaara said with startling authority.

“I’ve …” He sank to his knees in the hallway. “I lost so much money!”

“Oh, no!” You cupped your mouth.

“It’s those damn scheming geezers!” Kankuro cried, throwing his hand, tears wobbling down his face. “They cheated me, saw me coming from a mile away!”

“I told you not to get cocky if you were gonna gamble!” Temari said. “Now look at you!”

You and Gaara chuckled at the sight and each goodnight to them, but you were sure neither of them heard you over Kankuro’s crying and Temari’s yelling.

The next day, the blue of the sky was forced to contend with the weak wispy clouds breezing past, shielding and unveiling the sun at their leisure.

You admired them as you emerged from underneath the water. The sky enveloped your vision, and for a second you were sure you had been transported to heaven before Gaara broke you from your reverie:

“You’re advancing fast,” he praised, stationery in the water beside you.

You swerved, so you were across one another. “That’s because I have such a good teacher.”

Gaara smiled wordlessly as you initiated your novice backstroke. The irony of the Kazekage of Sunagakure teaching you how to swim was not at all lost on you. Chuuyou had worried about you being so far from his watchful eye, but you had insisted he keep more of a distance.

“My Lady,” he had said, his soft tone cut with an imploring edge, “I encourage you to reconsider.”

“I’m fine, Chuuyou.” You did your best to curb your annoyance, but it came out as a hiss, anyway. He’s just doing the job Father assigned him. “I would just like a little space. Please?”

And he had started giving it to you, no matter how unwillingly. You didn’t want Chuuyou so close; he was such a reminder of Father, of your real reason for being with Gaara and his siblings. You wanted all reminders gone. You wanted to fall into the dream.

Now, you couldn’t see Chuuyou anywhere on the beach. A pinch of anxiety previously holding your chest hostage released, relaxed into nothingness.

You splashed Gaara with water, giggling. “Race you to the shore!”

And Gaara, once again, didn’t answer; his answer came in the sound of him trading water with precision and speed. He was strong, much stronger than he looked, although you were not ignorant of the faint trace of muscle his lean form possessed.

He beat you, of course. He helped you from the water, the beach waves dispensing their white suds around your ankles.

“Oh!” You looked over the faint red burn forming on Gaara’s skin.

“Hm, I see.” He inspected his arms, which bore a few red spots. “I forgot.”

“You have to be more careful! Come here.” You took his hand, leading him back to the mismatched collection of beach towels you had secured on the beach. “I’ll put some on you.”

Kankuro and Temari were mysteriously missing. While you were sure Kankuro was engrossed in a life-or-death rematch with the old men who had swindled him the night before, you were not entirely sure what was keeping Temari.

You suspected, maybe, she was willingly leaving you alone with Gaara, who you hadn’t had a quiet moment with since only the gods know when. Unless, of course, you took the night before into consideration. For at least thirty minutes, you had pretended to sleep, pretended to not be aware of Gaara’s loving gaze on you in the dim tangerine light of the hotel room, only for him to fall asleep and you to turn the tables on him, staring at him semi-darkness with a racing heart you were hopeless to still. He had not even touched you; the only words he had exchanged after you had traded your beach clothes in for some pajamas had been a simple, hospitable goodnight, and still you couldn’t take your mind off of the intimacy of it all. Despite the two beds, despite everything.

Now, you were squeezing sunscreen into your hand, ready to massage it into his skin?

Gaara resisted. “You don’t have to,” he insisted.

You rubbed the cream together with your hands. “It’s all right, I don’t want you to get hurt — the sun is really intense.”

You ignored the way your heart skipped at the idea of massaging his bare skin.

I’m helping him, that’s all …

Gaara acquiesced. He closed his eyes when your hands fell on him. The sunscreen cooled underneath your palms as they made a trail down his arm.

“I’m usually more careful than this,” he said as you leaned in to address the arm across you. “It must have skipped my mind.”

You didn’t answer; your mouth went dry as you preoccupied yourself with how smooth and soft his skin felt under your fingers, like refined virgin marble. It was as though he had never been touched by another living soul in all his life. You felt blessed, honored.

A low rumble escaped Gaara’s throat as you leaned farther, the plush of your breast sinking into his arm and you jerked away, conscious of it.

You’re just helping …

“Does it feel … okay?” You asked.

“It does.”

Gaara leaned his head away so that you could massage into his neck, where your fingers brushed against the nape of his neck, felt the slightest indication of soft red hair beneath your fingernail. The slight of red hair under your fingers — you wanted to thread them in his forest of hair, before transferring to his chest. You could feel the ghosts of muscle you detected earlier, hard and … and steady. Gaara sat back to give you more access, but it only encouraged you to admire him more; the cliff of his jaw and, eyes trailing down even further, his lips …

Helping.

Your finger grazed one of his nipples, and Gaara flinched underneath the touch. He cracked an eye open at you, but you refused to meet it, pretending it didn’t happen by moving next to his back, lathering the span of it with sunscreen.

“There.” Your mouth was so parched the word almost didn’t form. “You should be all … set.”

You noticed the thoughtful, intense look Gaara was giving you. Your throat constricted, feeling more exposed than he was under his attention. If this was an Icha Icha novel, you knew he would lean forward, cup the back of your head and …

“Thank you,” Gaara’s voice was light.

You only nodded. You curled sinful hands in your lap, the sensation of Gaara’s skin tingling yours.

“… Excuse me?”

You were grateful for the distraction as your head turned to the source of the new little voice.

A little boy had crept toward the two of you on the beach, but he was staring at Gaara.

“… Are you th — the … Kazekage?”

Gaara turned to you for help and you sighed.

“The jig is up, I suppose,” You muttered to him.

“It’s true then?” the boy perked up in anticipation of Gaara’s answer.

Clearly emboldened, some of the boy’s other friends and playmates came to his side, waiting.

Gaara smiled and after a brief pause, “Yes. I am.”

Murmurs of amazement.

“Cool!” the boy said. “Can you show us some stuff?”

The kids crowded Gaara with their strung-out “pleases” and adorable pleading.

You leaned to whisper to Gaara, “Do it!”

He smiled before turning his attention to the beach. Sand began to stir and move, and you were glad the beach itself was much less crowded, with only the children doodling there, because sand began to rise and churn. Gaara grew sand structures on the beach. You furrowed your brows, following his vision as the sand morphed and solidified into …

Gaara had raised a giant sandcastle, complete with terraces and a drawbridge which plopped onto the beach floor to admit everyone.

The children rushed to the castle to admire it.

“Wow …” You gawked, entering into it. “It’s like a dollhouse!”

“Temari and Kankuro used to ask me to make things with sand all the time,” Gaara said as the children took your entering for clear permission and began to flood the castle.

Slides rolled down from spaces in the railings, little windows above the balustrades cut squares of sunlight for the perfect game of hopscotch. An atrium admitted invited more sunlight.

You giggled as they ran and played.

“This is amazing!” The little boy said, swinging on makeshift monkey bars. He plopped down and approached Gaara. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up, Lord Kazekage.”

Gaara looked stunned, before recovering with a gentle smile. “I hope everyone enjoys themselves …”

An hour or so passed while the two of you played with the children. Gaara constructed kaiju out of the stand and, having taken lessons from Kankuro, puppeteered them into fights as the children cheered on their favorites. Children took turns on the slides, falling into a giant whirlpool Gaara made. He encouraged you to go last, and your laughter turned to screams as you were propelled into the air and caught by Gaara’s forgiving sand.

“I want a castle just like this when we marry.” You admired the sandcastle from the outside as children tired themselves out around you. The sun had intensified, bringing with it a heat to parch your mouth dry.

You waited for Gaara’s interjection, but when he stayed quiet, you turned to him, only to see his attention was away from the beach, near a rise of obsidian rocks.

“I think there’s a cave over there,” Gaara said.

“I’ve never seen a cave before …” You said.

He turned to you. “Would you like to?”

You smiled. “What about the —?”

“I think they’re more than occupied.” Gaara gestured to the children still running and playing in and out of the sandcastle. “They won’t miss us.”

You smiled, nodded. “Let’s go.”

Rocks erected and curved like crescent moons to protect its own private island; a lagoon.

The two of you swam to explore, the way led by the sounds of seagulls and rushing waves. Gaara chaperoned you, but you swam without aid until the two of you came to the rocky shore.

You raised yourself from the waters by grabbing a rock for purchase, Gaara not far behind.

“I knew it,” You said triumphantly.

A small alcove indicated a cave not far off.

“Let’s go in!” You said, any and all fear you might have had to explore such a place dulled by the fact Gaara was with you. “I’ve got to find some souvenirs for this trip.”

“All right, then,” Gaara obliged.

The cave’s ceiling cast shadows over the water. A hole in its rocky ceiling created a natural spotlight at its center. Color winked in your periphery, hinting at aquatic flowers accosted by the rolling waters, and you wondered if you could find petals lost in the water.

“This is amazing,” You said. “It’s like earth meeting water.” You twirled in the water to see Gaara admiring you thoughtfully. You became self-conscious. Nerves constricted your speech. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gaara muttered as he inched closer. “You are very brave; you try new things all the time.”

You stilled — only to remember your imperative to stay moving in the water. He called me brave. You weren’t so sure. You only had the nerve to explore because you were aided by the Kazekage. But still, you opened your mouth, only to close it again; never had anyone ever complimented you on anything other than your “beauty.” You struggled to receive it.

Am I brave? How would I know …?

“I would like to thank you, (Y/n),” Gaara went on, cradling your name in his deep, dulcet tone. “You’ve done nothing but smile since the moment you came to my village. It must have been difficult to come here, all things considered … So, thank you.”

You were silent. His warm words blanketed you. It had been hard. Frightening. Everything was foreign. Nothing felt like home. And there was the weight of your — you swallowed — mission. What was this ability Gaara had to make you feel so seen? Now exposed, not undressed, but … read. Appreciated. Lovingly studied. Annotated.

You became struck with the intimacy of the cave; it was only you and Gaara. You were so far from shore. The scene was beginning to soften, its edges watercoloring until it seemed more dream than reality. The water had to rival the peaceful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes as you became lost in them.

He caressed your cheek so gingerly you flinched at the hand you hadn’t seen rise.

“I would … like to try something. Is that all right?”

Your mouth refused to form words; you nodded your consent.

Gaara’s other hand came to rest against your hip, steadying you in water as he had done in air. He leaned toward you, into you. You blinked water from your lashes, frozen everywhere else. You were in a dream:

Gaara’s lips brushed against yours.

His kiss was gentle, virgin, but you felt the soft plant of his lips on your own, and your soul departed from your flesh despite its lack of violence. Your eyes fluttered close, your hands resting on his shoulders.

Centuries later, Gaara moved away. You opened your eyes to see him nestled among the stars clouding your vision.

“I’ve …” Gaara lowered his gaze. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You struggled to recover. If you were speechless before, he had managed to eviscerate your vocabulary, your mental library set ablaze. Your heart was a hummingbird trapped in your chest. “Li — likewise …”

Gaara looked up, concerned. “Was it okay?”

You shook your head — until you realized you would have to couple it with words to assuage his concern. “No, no! It was — Gaara … it was amazing.”

Gaara smiled. “… I was worried. Thank you for letting me kiss you.”

You returned his smile. “Thank you for the souvenir.”

You were plopped back into reality, with the sea and the salt and the seagulls singing their songs overhead. An awkward silence punctured it all. You simply stared at him. And stared and stared and stared.

He grazed a hand over your wet forearm. “Would you like to do it again —?”

“Yes …” You said before he could finish, wrapping arms around him.

“Gaara! (Y/n)!”

It was Kankuro’s voice, far away, yet loud enough to dispel the dream entirely.

“Is that …?” Gaara trailed.

“Gaara!”

You broke away from him. “We should head back — there might be trouble.”

Gaara didn’t object, following you out. You could detect the significant dots of Temari and Kankuro on the shore as you two returned.

“What’s going on?” You said as you and Gaara emerged from the water.

Kankuro’s thousand-yard stare was your only reply. “I’ve done it,” he said quietly. “I’ve finally done.”

“What, Kankuro?” Gaara asked.

Kankuro thrust something in your faces. You fixed eyes on it. A medallion the color of the sun stared back.

You gasped. “But that’s —!”

“One of the old geezers won it off a pirate years back!” Kankuro said triumphantly.

“He begged me to help him beat the guys at the table,” Temari exclaimed, arms crossed. “How much is it, anyway?”

“Temari,” Kankuro deadpanned, “it’s worth thousands.”

Temari’s gasp echoed yours, as though she were doused with cold water —

“I take back everything I ever said about you, Kankuro!” Temari said, fingers knitted and stars in her eyes.

“That’s a once in a lifetime, I bet!” You said. “I’ve only seen one of those things once in my entire life.”

“Who would bet something this valuable in a game of cards?” Temari said. “Men are so reckless —“

“Congratulations, Kankuro!” Gaara said. “We knew you could do it.”

“Me, too,” Kankuro spun the coin with his thumb and caught it, satisfied with himself.

“Me, too,” Temari patted him on the back. “Now you can help pay off the Sand’s debt!”

It was a second before Kankuro realized what Temari was saying — and then the crying and begging began.

“So, you two been up to much?” Temari said. She eyed the giant sandcastle of Gaara’s making and the kids who had turned it into their personal playground, all while ignoring Kankuro’s crying in the background. She raised her brows. “Ah, I see. Anything else?”

Neither you nor Gaara answered. A few seconds ticked by before Temari blanched.

“Nothing much,” Gaara said finally.

You kept eyes on your toes, hoping the red on your face could be excused for the beach heat.

Gaara watched you return to his hotel room, saltwater washed from your hair, sighing. Kankuro sat on one of the couches, grumbling and cradling his precious coin to his chest, while Temari lounged on another, drink in hand.

“Those kids must’ve had a field day,” Temari said. “It was sweet of you to do that, Gaara.”

“It was (Y/n)’s idea, actually,” Gaara corrected. Warmth spread over him as he remembered the parents coming to collect their children, their little hands raised in farewell as they called it a day. He had decided to leave the sandcastle where it was, however, so they might play another day.

“It was your expertise,” You said, patting your damp hair with the towel. “Just hopin’ those families will keep us being here a secret.”

Gaara watched you inquisitively.

“It’s the least they can do,” Kankuro said sullenly, kicking his feet on an ottoman, fuzzy slippers dangling from its edge. “We built them a freakin’ fast food playground for free.” His face softened. “They did look real cute out there, though. And playtime is important.”

“I’m sure they will!” You settled into a chair. “It must’ve taken a great deal of chakra control, as well!”

Temari paused. “You know about chakra?”

“Of course I do,” You said, waving her off.

“No, you don’t.”

The room paused. Heads turned to Gaara.

You tilted your head at him. “What do you mean?”

Gaara didn’t answer. He raised from his chair. He fished a shuriken from his pocket and threw it —

It pierced the flesh of your throat.

“Gaara —!” Temari and Kankuro yelled in unison.

You clutched your throat and Gaara waited for blood. There was no blood.

You poofed away.

“A clone!” Kankuro shot from his chair.

“We need to find her,” Gaara said. “Now.”

The violent colors of the sunset bled into the horizon; burnt oranges and crimsons drowned the sky. You hugged knees to your chest as the suds of waves kissed your feet.

Your fingers were touched to the skin of your lips.

He had kissed you. Gaara, the Kazekage, had kissed you, and he had wanted to do it again.

He wanted you. It was clear. You wanted him.

And yet you lied to him.

It was not like you had imagined. Nothing about this trip to Sunagakure was, but this … was especially off-kilter. You had imagined a filthy, detached nightly tryst. Your yukata torn from your body by feverish hands as the Kazekage ravaged you — not asking, only taking. And, after defiling you and drifting to sleep, you would unwind your treacherous necklace from your neck and drip poison into his snoring mouth …

It was what your father had intended and what you had expected.

Instead … The ghost of Gaara’s hand tingled your hip, and his gentle kiss had imprinted itself on your lipskin. So sweet, so …

You searched the horizon. Hideo, what do I do? What would you have me do?

Did it matter if you chose to remove yourself from your father’s plan? Gaara is exactly who you would’ve wanted for me, Hideo. You were still lying. Even if your father came and killed you for being a traitor, you would still be lying … No. It was more than that. That was skin deep. The shame went deeper to puncture veins and bone. You were the lie. A pretty wife for the Kazekage, come to make peace. Come to destroy it.

You stood, nausea wobbling your step, and wretched your necklace from your neck.

Your necklace was a lie, too.

A weapon.

Did it matter if, in your madness, you had decided to hang on to it to protect Gaara, or yourself, if the time came? You stumbled, eyes returning to the horizon.

You would throw it into the sea and let the water devour it.

The pendant of it sat in your palm, cool against your skin. Your hand made a fist around it, ready to —

A force at your side. You collapsed to the ground. The necklace flew from your hands. Your side exploded with pain. Something wove to restrict your hands behind your back.

You cried out, groaning with pain and barely able to register it before harsh hands yanked on your constricted wrists. They hoisted you to your feet by something — someone.

You screamed — only for a hand to clasp to your mouth.

“You’re quite the prize. I’ll admit that at least,” said a voice in your ear, low and masculine. “And in more ways than one. I can only imagine what Lord Boutoku will trade for you.”

You struggled as you were dragged backwards, the beach shore growing smaller.

No. Nonononono.

Someone had found out, someone had found you —

A blast from behind you and the hands holding you were gone. You stumbled to remain standing. You turned around to see your captor crash on the beach floor.

“Get away from her!”

You turned. Temari — fan unfolded at her side — and Kankuro were running toward you. Gaara mysteriously absent, but your eyes searched for him, nevertheless.

Temari took you in her arms before maneuvering you behind her. Your captor was on his feet now, knife-weapon in hand.

“Heh,” the guy smirked. “I can take you two.”

Kankuro’s matching smirk was deadlier. “What about three?”

Sand pooled, tentacled, and shot forward to grab your captor. It hoisted the man in the air as he screamed. It bound his arms and legs.

Your eyes widened as sand cocooned him. “What in the world —?”

Sssssssss…

You frowned, concentrating on the sound. A snake? No … Sand rustled. You turned to see something rising on the beach. It emerged slowly, taking on the image of a man — it was a man.

Gaara.

Gaara’s image solidified to become flesh and bone, hair and skin and clothing.

“Gaara …” You were relieved — until you felt the rage radiating from him.

Even from where the man lay trapped, towering in the air, you could see the color leave his face.

“The — the Kazekage …!”

“You knew Lord Boutoku’s daughter was here, but not the Kazekage?” Kankuro mocked. He clicked his tongue. “You’re even dumber than you look.”

“Explain yourself,” Gaara ordered.

“H — Hey.” The man trembled in the sand’s death grip. “I didn’t know — I’m sorry, okay? I — I take it back. I never would’ve hurt the girl, all right? I only wanted —“

“Your prize?” Gaara’s voice was low, his stare hardening. “And what if she hadn’t given you the information you wanted?”

A deceptive curl of sand wrapped around the man’s throat like a python. You turned back to Temari and Kankuro, who were watching with detached amusement.

“I — I only wanted money, okay! That’s all!”

Temari feigned a coo. “Aww. You’ll be getting a bit more than that now, I’m afraid.”

“You’re a disgrace …” Murder lived in Gaara’s eyes.

Sand constricted, crushed, concealing your captor’s tremors as he screamed in terror. The amusement was gone from Temari and Kankuro, replaced with a growing concern.

“Gaara!” Kankuro said, inching closer. “C’mon. Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Gaara!” Temari hissed. “I thought you were only going to scare him, don’t tell me you —?”

“Gaara.” Your voice was small among the screaming and the perennial rustling of sand and your rapid heart in your ears. “Please, don’t. Please … it’s all right.”

Gaara’s hand flinched beside him, as though desperately resisting the urge to clench it. His glare did not leave the man he threatened to kill.

“Please …” You pleaded softly.

Gaara tore himself away from the scene, stalking away.

The sand lost its shape and crashed like water downward. The man plummeted to the ground. You yelped as a sickening crack sounded through the beach, and then silence. It was only until you saw the man rise from his place, one leg making up for the mangled other, were you able to breathe again. He was alive.

But barely.

Sand and Oasis ninja flooded the hotel. You felt bad for the other clientele, who were looking around for answers and found few.

Your captor had, apparently, heard about your staying at the hotel and, once getting a glimpse of you at the beach, had created a clone of you to fool everyone. Afterward, it was only a means of finding you alone to make a move. He had been carded away and, despite the horrible crack you’d heard, had only managed to break literally an arm and a leg. Nothing more. Until more information was known, the guests were either encouraged to leave or sequester themselves in their rooms.

The rogue had managed, in the fray of the vacation, to fool even Chuuyou. Who, you had a feeling, would be glued to you even more than before from now on.

You were fine. Slightly shaken, and your side still screamed with pain if you grew too bold, but otherwise fine, your necklace having been returned to you by Temari to weigh you down like an anvil. You were more concerned for Gaara, who had not spoken a word to anyone since walking off the beach. He lingered in the corner of the lobby. He said nothing to no one.

“I am so, so very sorry for this.” The hotel owner bowed profusely in the lobby, over and over, as the situation resolved. “The family of the Kazekage, please … Whatever we can do to rectify this horrific event — please accept my apologies, oh gods, oh oh oh —“

“It’s all right,” Kankuro said soberly, attention clearly elsewhere. You had never seen him so serious. He shook his head at Temari. “You were right. Damn, I’ve been reckless …”

“No, Kankuro.” Temari petted him on the shoulder. “It’s all right; it wasn’t just your responsibility —”

“No,” Kankuro swatted her away, “it’s not all right. I am the Kazekage’s guard. Imagine what could’ve happened?”

Temari was quiet, face soured by the multitude of ugly possibilities. A strange knowing pulsed the air, passing between the two of them and excluding you.

You recalled their faces. At first, Temari and Kankuro had been derisive, hardly bothered at all by Gaara’s rage. As though they had witnessed it a million times. It had startled you. Only later, when it seemed Gaara would kill him, did they move to stop him …

But something gnawed at you, like a mosquito stabbing for blood, refusing to be ignored. The way Gaara’s sand had curled up around your captor. The cocoon. How ready it was to envelope him, seal him away.

A sand burial.

… Wasn’t that what Father had called it in his letter? …

… Where had he gotten that terminology?

Something gross and lingering layered over you like the remnants of a bad dream, like snake-skin. It crawled up your skin. For a split second, you imagined Hideo in the man’s place, and the need to retch sent you grappling at the back of a chair.

Hadn’t Joseki tried to warn you, tried to stop you?

What if he had good reason?

Seas could not contain the blood that boy has shed.

No. It didn’t make sense — nothing made sense.

You had so many questions and no way to get them. Gaara had moved to protect you. A warm sense of comfort sat beside the gross feeling.

Gaara, kind, loving, his villagers loved him, his siblings loved him, he was kind to you, had kissed you —

And yet, you couldn’t reconcile the murder you had seen in Gaara’s face, holding the man he was ready to kill (for you!!) in the air …

Dizzy, you steered yourself in a chair.

It got Gaara’s attention. “Are you all right, (Y/n)?”

You startled at the sound of his voice. “Ye — Yes, I’m fine …”

Gaara studied you. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” You lied, side sore and aching for Epsom salts.

“Are you sure?”

His voice was gentle. You looked up at him, noted the concern in his face, those lips you had kissed only hours ago. Looking into his eyes ignited a storm inside you. It shouldn’t have been possible to feel so much just by the mere sight of someone.

Did you kill Hideo, Gaara?

“Yes.”

“We’re not staying,” Kankuro told the hotel owner. “We’re too vulnerable here. Too confined.”

“I understand,” the owner said. “If there’s anything I can do … Anything at all …”

The desert was quiet. The four of you were on your way back to Suna. The emergency tents from the carriages had been risen and now sat like tiny pyramids in the starry night.

You snuck away from yours, coming out from its flap into the chilly desert air, such a stark contrast to the heat during the day. Gaara’s tent sat adjacent to yours, a soft orange candlelight emanating from its slit. It was long into the night before Gaara’s shadow could no longer be seen flickering on the tent’s cloth walls. Somehow, he had found sleep.

You didn’t know what you were doing or why. Despite Gaara being the last person you should want to see, all you wanted was to be near him, as though the truth you couldn’t piece together would show on his face.

Barefoot, you carried yourself toward Gaara’s tent. The breeze swept the hem of your robe. A flicker in your periphery startled you.

Chuuyou stood by your tent. He met your eye.

You froze.

He nodded to you and stared out into the desert, as though he had seen nothing.

A shared secret. Understanding.

He’s thinks I’m going to kill Gaara. A chill trickled your spine.

Something about Chuuyou’s reaction made the plan so … real. Others were waiting on you. They would act. What would happen after it was done? Would the Oasis ninja ambush the other tents, attempt to kill Temari and Kankuro? Would there be a full scale battle right in the middle of nowhere as your ninja stole you away and took you back to the village? The chill within rivaled the chill without.

You shook it off, attempted to chip away at the reality of it. We’re in the middle of the desert. It would be foolish to do it now — even if I was going to. Doesn’t he see that? You crept into Gaara’s tent.

He slept on his slip of a bed on the floor, face peaceful in the candlelight. Quiet, save for the slight crunch of your bare feet on the sandy ground.

How could he sleep after everything that had happened? A better question: what were you doing here? Did you want to talk to Gaara, hoping there would be some way you could bring up Hideo’s death without seeming suspicious, accusatory? But you had no plan, and he was asleep. And now here you were, standing over him in the night.

You remembered how Gaara had told you about his heavy sleeping. In another world, this would be the moment. You would simply slip the poison from the necklace into his mouth and be done with it. No more confusion. It would be done, your tight-roping act over and done with.

You wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. A decision would have been made. You would just have to live with yourself. But could you live with yourself?

The mental torture, and the desire to free yourself from it, sent your hand to your necklace. You trailed fingers to the back of it, to detach it.

You stood witness to his sleeping form. He slept the way he had when he was surrounded by his plants. How sweet his hobby was, how he had endeared himself to you. The statue of Karura. How gorgeous he was then, how gorgeous he was now …

In your madness, Hideo’s voice morphed with your father’s: Do it. Avenge me. Avenge me.

You studied his face but found no answers there.

You leaned over him, as though the answers you sought after were an inch or so away —

“(Y/n)?”

You startled. Temari’s head had poked through the slit of the tent.

“What are you doing in here?”

You froze. In that moment, you knew exactly what it looked like: you, deviously bent over her baby brother, about to do only the gods knew what. Your mind spun for an excuse.

In that moment, you saw a slim change in Temari’s expression — Concern? Anger? Suspicion?

Before it could change, Gaara roused. A groan rumbled in his throat. “What’s happened?” he asked groggily.

He propped up. Your eyes flickered from him to Temari.

“I — I couldn’t sleep,” You said, not technically a lie. “I wanted to sleep with Gaara tonight.”

Gaara sat up in bed.

“What?” Temari was blushing.

“I’m … still so rattled by what happened …” You went on, using your actual nerves to amplify the effects of your lie-not-lie. I’m such a mess. “I’d feel safer if I …”

“That’s fine,” Gaara said.

“Gaara,” Temari said, scandalized. “Are — are you sure?”

“It makes sense that (Y/n) would be uncomfortable alone after what happened.” Gaara moved aside to make room for you on the futon. “We’ll be husband and wife soon enough as it is. It’s only natural we begin sleeping together.”

Gaara seemed to avoid your eye, the weight of the day’s events an uncomfortable one. As if on cue, you slipped into the futon to be beside him, making a mental side note of the warmth flooding you immediately after.

“Well —” Temari stammered. “A — All right. As long as …” She paused; considering what came after as was too horrifying to think about. “Good night!”

You blushed; of course her mind would go to when she had found the two of you on the beach, the unspoken words to explain what you had been up to. She zipped the tent back up, leaving the two of you alone.

You laid down, exhaled a long breath. Gaara’s presence beside you was immense.

“I am … sorry,” he said. “For today. This is not how I wanted things to go.”

“It’s all right. I’m not as fragile as you think.” You balled a fist under the pillow. “I’m sure shinobi see far worse.”

“It’s no use comparing yourself to us; we are trained to face violence and be somewhat desensitized to it,” Gaara said. “I don’t expect you to be. Do you want to talk about it?”

This was the Gaara you had come to know, but what about the one from earlier? There were two Gaaras in your mind.

“No,” You assured softly. “I’m fine.”

“I understand …” You detected a bit of disappointment in Gaara’s voice. “Sleep now, then. We’ll be back in the village by the afternoon.”

You obeyed without meaning to. Exhaustion won out against your anxieties. The moment your eyes closed, you were asleep.

In the morning, you would wake up with your hand in Gaara’s, having reached for it in the night.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto smut #my work

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