#‘oh it sounds like pearl’s saying ‘you’re my show star’’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wanderingpages · 9 months

Text

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Big up to @headcannonxgalore for keeping me sane for this one 🪦

Jude's POV

The rest of the ride home isn’t quiet, but it feels tense to me. It feels like that first ride we shared after the wedding, when Cardan told me he knew those were my flowers on the floor in front of the dressing room. When he tucked my hair back after clicking my seat belt in place, when it started as a tease, but he kept quiet after seeing the panic and distraught look on my face. Like I had wished back then, I wish now to open the car door and fling myself into oncoming traffic.

When he sees me press a hand to my heated cheek, he cracks the window for me, letting cool air settle my nerves. I clear my throat and instead of saying ‘thank you,’ I reach for the dials on the radio and disconnect it from his phone. Feeling like somehow Cardan’s personal playlist was catered to test me, I switch between stations, until I settle on something light and a little goofy. He taps his fingers along the steering wheel, quietly letting me do what I want in his car. I snoop through the console area, finding nothing of great importance, only packets of candy and gum, a couple of multicolored mini lighters, a pack of EZ Wider rolling paper and some ketchup packets from a fast-food chain. Underneath it all, I pick out a pair of mismatched gold earrings. One is shaped like a curved hardware nail, the other like a star with a pearl dangling from it. I twist them between my fingers, feeling a little nervous to be holding high-end tiny jewelry, lest the car swerves and they go flying out the window somehow.

“You like them?” He asks suddenly, pulling me from my gaze.

“Um, yeah,” when Cardan turns to me, he takes one hand off the steering wheel and plucks the Cartier one from my palm to hold it close to my earlobe.

“You should keep them,” a small smile tilts the side of his lips up and I look away, feeling a squeeze in my chest. Instead of saying no, like I should have, I take the earrings and tuck them into the pocket of my jacket, mumbling out a thanks to him. I turn away, taking in the scenery to distract myself. I’m not his girlfriend and I shouldn’t let him treat me like one either. At some point, I realize we’ve merged onto a more residential area, and the houses begin to look familiar. We were getting close to home now, on the wealthier side of town. Cardan’s hand reaches across, and he points to a three story house, equivalent to a mansion. “That’s me.”

I blink, looking at the house, bending my head to stare after it as we pass by, then I look at him with wide eyes. “You – you live there? You live in Insmire?” It may have put into perspective what it meant to have half a pair of high branded jewelry just lying in his car, but all I can piece together in my mind is just how close we’ve actually been living next to each other. I try to think back on all the times our paths could have crossed since the wedding and even prior; how much of our peers overlapped – could we have met at a party? Could we have met first, before our parents even knew each other’s names? Would it have made a difference? “Oh…” I whisper, the squeezing feeling in my chest dropping to the pit of my stomach. I rest my head back, tucking my hands into my pockets, fiddling with the earrings until night falls.

We make it home well after dinner, which is probably good in hindsight. I don’t think I’d be able to get through grace without shame. Even now, as Cardan opens the door for me and helps carry both of our overnight bags, even as Asha welcomes us warmly, greeting me with a hug, I can only think about Cardan, his fingers and the taste of cherries. When I shiver, Asha runs her hands frantically up and down my back as if to warm me.

“Oh, Jude,” she laughs, “I’ve missed you! I feel like an empty nester,” she pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. Dad reaches in for a half hug and kisses my forehead, then turns to his stepson and pats him on the shoulder. “Cardan,” Asha smiles lovingly at him, but stays close to my dad instead of also giving him a hug. It’s strange, watching her almost buzz with excitement but hold back as if Cardan were something so delicate, a touch would break him. I could almost laugh. Delicate. Cardan is anything but that. “Are you guys hungry? I can warm up some food – or at least have some dessert before bed… I know the drive must have been long.”

Cardan throws an arm around my shoulders, startling me as he kicks the door close behind him. “Fret not, Mother, we’ve had our fair share of dessert.” Without stuttering or picking at my skin, I managed to explain that we had stopped for lunch. I shrug him off, rolling my eyes when he shoulder-checks me. In the eyes of our parents, we’re getting along just as siblings should.

“I’ll show you to your room, then,” Dad says, leading Cardan up the steps. The room sharing a wall with mine has always been Cardan’s as far as I knew. When Asha moved in, she had spoken to us about it, wanting to do it up for him was he to ever stay over – and of course, Cardan is her son, so who was I to object if my dad had no qualms about it? Still, part of me knew Cardan would never be visiting his mother for the weekends – in fact, him saying yes for our winter break still has me miffed, especially now knowing where he lived. And yet, Asha decorated his room to her heart’s desire, until slowly, it began to feel like a shrine of sorts. She visited it daily as if mourning a ghost, dusted down invisible dirt and hung photos and seasonal decorations that by no means fit the characteristics of what little I know about Cardan. If I think about it too much now, I’ll see the erratic behavior for what it is and maybe stuff Cardan has told me before, about how unfit his mother was, would start to make sense. But it was her way of coping, which is no worse than my scarred fingers or my willfully ignorant father.

I watch them walk up the stairs, only coming back to myself when Asha takes hold of my hands, inspecting the bandages over my knuckles. She squeezes them lightly and smiles at me, “There’s cookies in the kitchen – go get changed and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

I shower quickly, avoidant of Cardan unpacking in his room. Unused to living with him, I hadn’t walked with my clothes in the bathroom, and when I realized this, I cracked the door open, barely missing him heading down the steps. The hot shower hardly settles my nerves and I stride straight to the window, opening it a crack, letting the air circulate the stuffy room. I turn and lean back against the sill, tightening my towel against me and taking in the rest of my bedroom, untouched since I left for the dorms. Even the air feels stale. I let out a huff, allowing my eyes to wander to the armchair where two stuffed animals – a black cat and a koala – squished together under the draping of a shirt I’d tossed when I couldn’t decide what to wear the morning I left.

My bag has been tossed on the bed, but that hardly disrupts the way I’d left it. There’s a corner of my bed where the covers are pulled slightly just as it had been when I’d grabbed my phone charger at the last minute. The pillow is skewed a bit, and my stuffed snake is laid adjacent. Even the pen on the vanity is left at the same angle; when I pick it up, there’s a thin layer of dust that’s noticeable. I wonder why my stepmother would diligently clean a vacant room religiously, while my room is just as I’d left it. Of course, I would never expect Asha to keep my room, but maybe I did feel a little resentment that Cardan’s room was tended to daily while mine was left to become a relic. I’m overreacting, mostly fueled by Cardan, I suppose, so I sigh and take the shirt from the chair and use it as a rag to wipe down the surface of my dresser, telling myself that she’s only giving me my privacy.

I drop the shirt in my laundry basket and straighten out the pile of books on the floor next to my bookshelf on my way towards my closet. I find some cotton pajamas and throw them on before finally sitting at the edge of the bed. I open the nightstand drawer, to swipe in the miscellaneous pens and hair ties left beside my lamp, only to let out a squeak at the new addition to the junk pile. She leaves all else still, but Asha still manages to place a bible in the bedside drawer like this is some kind of hotel. I pick it up and flip through the thin pages, letting the tiny black letters blur. I pretend it’s a flipbook and the words are creating some type of eight-bit fire. I once again try to think back on when this all started – had it been after the wedding or were there hints before? I snort and shove the book towards the back of the drawer, wondering how far she will take this before I finally snap.

I hear the bathroom door shut right when I walk out, guessing I’ve missed Cardan again. When I make it to the kitchen, I’m surprised Asha isn’t there for me to ask about the present she left in my room. There are two cups of tea on the counter beside a plate of cookies – for her son and I, I guess. Asha can’t bake for shit, so I know the chocolate chips are from the bakery near the supermarket, only gooey because she’s warmed them up in the microwave. I debate on waiting for Cardan, taking in the added décor to our kitchen walls – some prayer on a plaque and a wooden cross right under the clock. After a moment, I grab a cookie and I shiver, wondering if she had stolen the cross from the church, as it was incredibly similar to the one in the dressing room – the one absolutely embedded into my brain.

“Creepy.” Cardan says, causing me to bite my tongue. I yelp, turning to him, hand covering my mouth, unable to take the mix of blood and chocolate. He looks surprised at my reaction too, leading me to the trash can so I can spit it out. “Shit, sorry.” He rubs my back and I wave his hand away, heading to the sink for some cold water.

“What the hell?” I mutter, wiping my mouth. I hadn’t even heard him come down.

He looks bashful, for once. “It looks like an omen,” he nods his chin to the cross and I eye him warily, still tasting copper in my mouth. His thumb reaches towards me, and he swipes down the corner of my lips, rubbing away the smear of red and brown, making my knees feel weak because suddenly, I'm in that booth at the diner again and I want him to paint me as red as those cherries. He parts his lips, looking as if he wants to say more, but all he does is grab my half-eaten cookie and give me a parting pat on the head, ruffling my hair slightly. “Anyways, sleep tight, little sister.” He’s up the steps and I feel a little aghast that he’d come down, inflict pain, remind me that we’re siblings then walk up the stairs like the past week – let alone that night at the reception – hadn’t happened. I stick my middle finger up at his back, annoyed that he can switch his emotions around so easily, annoyed that he plays this game better than I do, annoyed that I had even given him the green light so many months ago, thinking I could best him somehow.

I stay a while longer, struggling to make myself move, but soon the hurt ebbs away enough for me to snag another cookie or two or three, snacking on them almost angrily. As I finally make my way to my room, I check the time on my phone and it lets me know it's ungodly to be up so late. While I do feel incredibly tired, I just can’t find it in myself to sleep; I feel strung up and it may have little to do with Cardan Greenbriar sleeping just a few feet away from me. I decide on straightening out the rest of my room, dust off shelves and fix anything I’d left awry, but only less than an hour passes. I run through my phone contacts, wondering who might be up and on a whim, I send a message to my roommate, asking how she’s doing. To my surprise, Vivienne responds within seconds. The three dots dance at the bottom of the screen for a moment until it stops completely, and I get a phone call from her instead.

“Why are you still up?” She asks instead of an actual greeting. I roll my eyes; I could ask her the same thing. I walk to my laundry basket when I suddenly remember the earrings I’d left in my pocket. I take them out and before placing them on the dresser, I glance at myself in the mirror, holding the Cartier one to my earlobe, trying to see what Cardan had seen earlier.

“Jet lag,” I quip at Vivienne, switching to the Dior pearl, twisting my head this way and that. I place them on a small jewelry tray and head to my bed. I sit on the edge and fall back to stare at the ceiling. There’s even a cobweb at the far corner. I roll my eyes at how bratty and entitled I’m feeling over dust in my room. At the end of the day, Asha isn’t my mom, but she’s done more for me in three years than my real mom has done in five.

I can hear Vivienne’s scoff, “That’s not at all how that works – you’re in the same time zone.” I hear shuffling on her end, and she says a quick apology before I assume she’s settled. “Okay,” she clears her throat, “how was it?”

“How was what?” I play dumb, grabbing the stuffed snake and holding it to my chest. I stroke the fuzzy skin, distractedly. It’s black with thin, iridescent scales threaded through, seemingly accurate to the size of a fully grown pet snake. The black beady eyes stare back at me cutely.

“Don’t ‘what’ me – the car ride, you dick,” Vivienne huffs and it’s funny, so I can’t help but giggle. “With Mr. Oh-no-step-bro-I’m-stuck-under-a-table,” She elaborates. “Dude… I can’t help but live vicariously through you right now – like are you guys fucking? In the same house your parents are fucking? That’s so gross,” She snorts, and I make a face.

“Ew Viv, no! No one is fucking anyone.”

“Oh my god,” She clocks me in a matter of seconds. “You guys absolutely got freaky on the road, didn’t you?” I don’t need to have her in front of me to know her thin, blonde brows are wiggling comically.

I press my hands to my cheeks and groan. “No,” I tell her, which technically is not a lie because nothing happened on the road. In fact, being on the road was probably the most normal thing to happen between us – between actual siblings. It’s when he held my hand and took me to the diner that he seemed to press play on our perverted little game.

“Liar, liar” she sings. “Just be safe, ‘cus it’s going to be super weird when Jude Jr. pops out and you have to explain that her daddy is also her uncle.”

I nearly gag at the thought. “God, no, stop it!” I push the snake aside and turn to my stomach. “No one is having kids, okay?” I shiver, “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re right, we’re in Maine, not Alabama.” She thinks she’s so funny, she’s laughing at herself and I threaten to hang up. When she calms down, I finally change topics and ask about Heather and Liliver. We chat until she starts to yawn and I let her get some rest.

I still feel so edgy, though my eyes start to tire. I find my Kindle app and, on a whim, I ignore all the unread books in my library and download a Camus book. It’s not the one from Cardan’s car but it's a translated English version of one that does not aid in my sleep at all. I read until it’s about 5 in the morning, more engrossed in it than I was when it was an assigned reading in high school. I glance out the still dark window and think about track for a moment. I used to leave the dorms so early to make it for morning runs. I got so good at using it as an escape, I was suggested to try out for the track team next semester. Sunrise is in a couple hours, and there’s a trail leading down the creek just behind the house. It’s a bike trail, mostly, but I can run beside it until the sun comes up, just to keep myself occupied for a while.

The next few days involve me slowly cleaning my room, inch by inch, even going down to my small jewelry collection, and scrubbing them clean. I’ll admit, next to Cardan’s expensive jewelry, mine looked very shabby in comparison. I avoid Cardan and maybe Asha in the process, by staying out of the house as much as possible, running in the mornings until my legs give out, catching up with old friends – like Fand and her boyfriend – maneuvering around the city like a tourist, going to small museums and bookstores – places I would never even think of going on any regular day. Of course, I’m home before 9 every night, and in my room until I force myself to get through a few hours of shut eye just to run again in the morning and start it all over. It’s beginning to get harder, trying to ignore my problems, tedious even.

I'm rubbing lotion on the scabbed over bits on my fingers, annoyed and embarrassed by how horrifying they look, starting to yellow in color and peel at the edges. They itch in their healing process, making it hard for me not to pick at them again. My fingers look mismatched, and I know scar cream can only fix so much. I could cry at how horrible it makes me feel to not even be aware that I’m doing it, that I’m hurting myself until I start to bleed. Therapy might help, but Dad is against it. I guess he doesn’t want to know what the root cause of it is – doesn’t want it said out loud, at least.

I push my window all the way up tonight, sticking my head out to stare at the stars. There’s a big ledge that should technically be the roof of the garage, but I’ve often brought blankets out to sit comfortably and read when it was nice out. I twist my fingers, trying not to focus too much on the compulsive need I feel to itch at my skin, instead lamenting about last summer, and definitely not at all about anything related to my stepbrother. I’m so in my own head that I almost miss when Cardan sticks his head out his own window.

My brows are raised as I watch him climb over the sill and walk on the eaves to sit on the slope right beside me, the scent of burning earth creeps into my nostrils “Jude,” he murmurs in greeting and my name had always sounded so pretty from his lips, but something about tonight makes my chest squeeze tighter than usual. The near week I spent without him felt almost intolerable in perspective with him sitting beside me right now. Why had I put myself through torture to steer clear of him when I feel so at peace now next to him?

“It’s cold,” I point out, glancing at his attire of a short sleeve white shirt and thin looking gray joggers. He doesn’t even have socks on. I may have on shorts and a T-shirt, but I'm not outside in the cold, in fact my room has become so unbearably warm these days I have to constantly leave my window open.

He ignores me, taking a short drag of whatever he’s rolled. When the scent hits me again, it tickles my nose a little and I try not to sneeze. “Why is it that we live together now, and I see less of you? Are you avoiding me?”

“I could say the same about you,” I point out, resting my elbow on the ledge, bracing the side of my face to my palm. The few times I’ve been home before dinner, Cardan has been noticeably absent. He smiles but it looks grim. He leans back, resting his head on the gable. The air is unusually still tonight, so the smoke surrounds him for a long while; I watch the wisps disappear between us. The fume begins to sting my eyes, but I don’t want to look away. I admit, “I can’t sleep.” My sleep schedule has been fucked for days, no matter how often I’ve managed to tire myself out.

He holds out the joint to me and I take it mostly out of confusion. “Your lights are on all night long then you disappear at five in the morning.”

“Have you been keeping tabs?” I roll the joint between my fingers, then make a decision and take a hit. My lips touch where his lips had and though we’ve done a lot more than share spit before, this feels far more intimate in the quiet night. It burns a little, like I know it would, and it itches my throat when I exhale slowly through my nose. I look down at the thin stick, brows furrowing at the rolling paper. I’ve never seen any with words on it. “I am. Avoiding you. My heart beats faster around you. My palms get clammy and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. It hurts to breathe sometimes,” I explain my anxiety, twisting the joint to read the words, wondering if it says something profound. “Can’t mean anything good,” I mumble. “It’s like walking across a narrow bridge with nothing beneath to catch my fall.”

After a beat, he asks, almost too quietly, “Are you scared of me, dear sister?” I don’t answer, then he shrugs, eyes gazing over what he can see of me, “I think you’re prettiest when you're honest.” Cardan reaches his hand to ruffle my hair. I try to bat it away, but his fingers dig in a little tighter, weaving through and under the bun I’ve haphazardly attempted earlier. He doesn’t really need to tilt my head to face him, I do it for him. If the stars are bright tonight, his eyes are even brighter. “I’m not avoiding you,” he tells me after a long while. “And you’re not, by the way,” he is so close to me now, that our breaths mingle and turn to fog between us, “Out of my system, I mean.” My eyes widened at the answer to my question that seemed like eons ago. He releases my hair and tweaks my nose almost affectionately. He takes the roll from my fingers, but I catch a few words where our fingers touch, morbidly reminding me of Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam.

“Holy shit,” I whisper suddenly, looking at him horrified as he smokes it. “That’s the – you… The paper!” he raises a brow and looks at the roll like he’s only now noticing what I had. “Oh my God,” I say.

His languid grin is so wicked, I could almost say he’s the devil himself. “Yeah,” he drawls, “I guess so.”

“Cardan!” I whisper harshly, “You can’t smoke bible pages!”

He shrugs, “Was out of rolling paper.” He rolls his eyes, “It’s not like Big G wrote it himself anyways.”

My mouth parts in disbelief. “Big G?” I struggle to say. He bends down and kisses my nose. “You’re kind of cute, Jude.” I blink up at him and he pecks my lips this time. I pull back and touch my lips tentatively, aware that I too, have smoked the same bible joint. My mouth parts and he slips said joint between my lips as they close. I inhale sharply, eyes on him. When he pulls it away, I start to cough. His warm hand smooths over my cheek as if trying to calm me. He takes another drag, almost absently, eyes starting to strain red as he watches me settle. His thumb plays with the freckle under my eye, swiping over it as if to see if it’ll disappear.

“Wh- What,” I cough again and try to clear my throat, eyes watering while he catches the stray droplets. “What page was it?”

His smirk comes by sluggishly. His words are as hazy as I feel, trailing off by the end, “Something in Proverbs. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk… far… from your… lips.”

“God, you’re sick,” I tell him. “Jesus, Cardan,” I manage; I feel unnerved and his lack of reaction makes me feel like I’m going crazy.

“Invite me in,” he says quietly, like he’s a fucking vampire or faerie; changing the subject I’m still reeling over. “We can watch a scary movie. I’d love to hear you scream.” He pinches my cheek. “I’ve missed you, Jude.”

I don’t know what convinces me to do it – him, his confession or my mild inebriation – but, I take hold of his wrist, stopping him from pulling away from me. “You’re a fucking menace,” I mutter. I take a step back and tug him, “and I don’t scream,” I let him know, holding his hand as he slips in through my window.

Cardan smiles, pinching the joint out and placing it on my desk. He looks around my room, and I awkwardly shuffle around my desk for my laptop. I sit on my bed, watching him warily, with my heart beating against my eardrums over him touching all my things. This is different from how it was in my dorms. I’m less comfortable and acutely aware of our parents and all the reasons I tried to avoid him this week.

He shuffles around as nosy as I had been in his car. He picks up a bottle of perfume and sniffs the nozzle, then spritzes some onto himself, probably to mask the weed scent he’d acquired. He plays with makeup I’ve left out on the vanity, opening a palette and rubbing a finger over a gold pigment he then rubs off against his shirt. I wince while I’m trying to remember my password to the streaming sites I’m sharing with three other friends. I hear him opening drawers and I glance to see him pick at my undergarments. He finally opens the bottom drawer and pulls out a pair of thick socks he manages to stretch over his feet. I hold in a laugh and scoot down on my bed while he hits the light.

He picks up the stuffed snake, tosses it on the armchair with the other two stuffed animals, and climbs on to the bed. He smells like me, atop that earthy aroma. I shuffle in closer, and he wraps his arm around me like it was just natural for him to do. It feels like a date, so I tell myself it’s the weed and sacrilege that makes me give in - we can't get any worse than smoking Proverbs – so I allow myself to rest my head on his shoulder. I become aware that there’s something else beneath those two mingled scents on him; that amber musk I always smell when he’s near. Without knowing when, I’ve missed smelling it, so I twist my head, trying to get more of it.

Cardan chooses one of The Exorcist movies and my eyes blur later when I try to see beyond the dark frames of blue-toned lighting. I don’t scream but my face is pressed into his chest, eyes screwed shut and my legs wrapped around him so tight my bones ache. My heart is racing something different than what I'm used to around him, my chest is tight, but it feels like the bad sort of wrong. I’d never seen any of the movies, but I hadn’t expected to feel petrified enough to wrap myself around him.

I feel the vibration of his chuckle and when he strokes my hair back, I look up to him. The bluish tint from the screen casts something ethereal across his skin. He feels so warm and cozy and I think for once, I wouldn’t mind if sleep could evade me, if it meant resting in his arms. How had I spent a whole week avoiding him when I could have been doing this instead? “Okay?” he asks. His eyes are droopy; red and lethargic. I nod imperceptibly, and he tugs at a lock of hair unkempt from the band, trailing it over my face and letting it spring back to its mess. His finger dances across my nose to the freckle under my eye, then slowly down my jaw and across my lips. “Should we turn it off? I can have you screaming in other ways.” His finger’s skim over my lips and I want to do the same to him, unexpectedly so aware of them and the way they move. I get his oral fixation with me.

I touch his bottom lip with the tip of my fingers, “Fuck off,” I mumble beneath my breath. I slip my finger between his teeth and his tongue slowly wraps around, beckoning it further in. I feel it in the tightening of my breasts and the warmth pooling in my core when he sucks on my finger.

I lift up a bit and he chuckles, helping me find balance as I rest my weight on my elbow. I pull my finger out, trailing wet lines over his chin, and down to his neck. I trace the tendons there, entranced by the way his muscles flex at my touch. When the movie is forgotten, he reaches for the laptop and twists to set it on the bedside table, letting the movie play out beside us while my hand trails down his chest, slowly to the hem of his shirt tentatively playing with the cotton. I gnaw at my bottom lip, hesitating for a moment. “What if…” There’s blood and gore and screams and a haunting soundtrack, but it's Cardan who has my heart stuttering and my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts now. His hand rests on the small of my back, the other skims to my neck, resting where my pulse vibrates. His eyes flutter, struggling to stay open and on me when my fingers slip under the waistband of his sweats. When I touch the skin of his pelvis, feel the trim of hair there, I realize that it’s the first time I’m touching him there at all.

“Jude,” he murmurs, subdued now.

“What if,” I continue, softly, “I want to make you scream?” his eyes glimmer and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth when I take hold of him blindly. His stomach twitches and I’m torn between wanting to watch his reaction and wanting to look at what my hand is doing. My grip tightens and he sucks in a breath.

“Jesus, Jude…I…” he struggles to breathe and it does something to twist at the heat in my belly, “I don’t scream either, Jude,” he finally whispers, pressing on my back until I fall forward. He kisses me deeply, slowly, further muddling my brain. His hand slips under my shirt, warm on my spine. He grabs hold of my hand and pulls it from his pants. I pull away from him startled, and a little embarrassed until he licks the palm of my hand and guides it back to his dick. “But I’m not above begging,” he tells me in a breath. “So don’t stop, Jude…” I clamber on top of him, finding his free hand and using it as leverage to hover over him. He lets me bring it above his head, lets me rest my forehead on top of his, eyes gazing at each other until I look down between us, holding his shaft tighter, pulling him from his sweats. “Fuck,” he breathes.

I thumb at the head, sticky precum coats my finger and when I squeeze the swollen tip, he lets out a soft moan. I’m a bit out of my element but I hope I hide it well. I want him to feel just an ounce of the way he makes me feel. I kiss his cheek, trail my lips to his ear and stroke his member. “Look at you,” I say in a hushed tone as our fingers interlace. His free hand slides over my ass and down to my thigh, squeezing my skin like it’s a tether. He bites his lip, a grunt escaping. The movie plays on, music growing louder, fueling the atmosphere. “Look at my big brother,” I bite down on his earlobe, tugging the metal loop he’d left in tonight. “So needy…and …all… for… me.”

Cardan lets out something between a laugh and a groan, hips bucking against my hand just the slightest. “Fuck me…” he groans. “You’re a bit of a brat, you kn- ahh!” I stroke faster, a little harder. There’s silence from the laptop. “You… you missed me too,” he mumbles, eyes shutting, sweat sheening his forehead, “didn’t you,” he slurs. I nod, taking my lips down his neck and kissing him under his jaw. He calls my name when I pull skin between my teeth. “Fuck!” He lets out the moment the screaming on screen starts up. His dick twitches but before I can do more, his hand on my thigh begs me closer to him, “Please, Jude… please… let me feel how hot and wet your pussy is right now,” he begs almost drunkenly. He tugs at my shorts and pulls them along with my panties to the side, then helps me settle on his straining cock, hissing when our skins touch. I pull in my bottom lip, grabbing his hand and pressing it above his head with the other.

I feel my cunt spasm before I even start to move. “Fuck…” he whispers again, eyes in a daze when my hips begin to grind.

“Is this…” I trail off, not wanting to sound unsure of myself. “Do you like that, Cardan?”

“Y…yes…” His grip tightens around my fingers, and his hips begin to rut against me. He’s slick with my wetness in the matter of seconds, sliding between my slit, rubbing against my clit hard. “Don’t stop, baby,” he slurs, “keep… riding me,” he pleads, “you feel… so fucking good,” he tells me so quiet, I almost don’t hear it beyond the noise of the movie I wish would just end already. I watch his face twist, and his eyes struggle to stay open and on me. His lips are parted and forming quiet obscenities between muffled grunts, “So wet for me…” I feel lightheaded and warm all over, my knees start to shake and try to keep up with his thrusts. I move faster, whimpering and moaning, enthralled by how he looks - like he's the one who's being corrupted by me.

I don’t have time to comprehend when he easily overpowers me and flips us. He takes hold of my two hands in one of his, the other hand reaches for my shirt and pulls it all the way up, holding the scrunched fabric to my neck. He moves sloppily against me, rough and hard. My breath catches when his head falls to my chest, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth. I pull in my lip hard between my teeth, scared of the noise that’d escape. His tongue flicks tenderly in comparison to the abrasion between our legs. It confuses and overwhelms me and when he bites down and pulls hard, my eyes cross and my vision doubles, “Car-ah!” my nails dig into his flesh, and my body starts to twitch uncontrollably.

It’s like my climax had been what he was waiting for because he pulls away from me and takes hold of his cock, stroking it over my stomach fast and almost animalistically. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants, “Jude… fuck…” until his come shoots hot and white over my skin, between my breasts and down my navel.

He breathes rough and shaky, burying his face into the crook of my neck. My hands tremble as they wrap around his head, running over his hair more to calm myself than his. His heart beats against my chest almost alarmingly, and when the air seems to finally clear, the credits roll on the screen and Cardan falls to his side. I almost laugh at his near immediate lull to sleep.

My hands still shake as I detach from him, closing the laptop and sneaking off to the bathroom for a wet rag. I wipe down myself before I work on the mess against his skin. He’s still asleep when I wake up in the morning, but when I’m back from my run, he’s not even home.

←Prev Part ∞ Next Part →

Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

50 notes · View notes

honey-milk-depresso · 1 year

Text

The Boy I Love (Ove Bell x Reader)

Ove Bell is my OC, this is for @call-me-aesthetic especially 💕 Hope you enjoy! ^^

TW: One cuss word. I think- (very mild cussing)

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love is a jokester.

“Ove…”

“What? I’m scared, s/o. Aren’t you gonna be my knight and shining armour and protect me?~” he playfully reacted as he placed his hand on his hand to look exasperated.

The two of you were in a haunted house as a Halloween date, and you knew jolly well that Ove wasn’t scared of it one bit. No, he just wanted to act scared to cling to your arm… actually no, just cling onto you.

“Are you done pretending?” You raised a brow, monotonously asking your boyfriend. He gasped, touching his chest offendedly. “When your love is in distress, fear, anguish and helpless without you? Oh, how cruel can you be, my snuggle bug?” Ove sighed as he sounded hurt, but that wide grin on his face says otherwise.

“Snuggle bug? Cringe.”

“S/oooooo,” he wrapped his arms firmer around your arm, chin resting on your head. “Protect meeeeeeee~”

“Oh my sevens…” you smiled at him, as he smiled at you back.

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love has bad taste in movies.

“What are we watching?” You asked your boyfriend while looking baffled at the television screen.

You would’ve expected horror, comedy or thriller from this man but…

“It’s an alien invasion movie.”

“Why is the alien invasion movie all stop motion and have un-sync lip sync?”

“It’s from the 1970s.”

You groaned. Oh my god. I mean sevens.

Your boyfriend decided to pick a movie so outdated and cheesy, the plot is almost so cliche with the main characters obviously using the power of friendship to save the day, characters that have the most nonsensical thinking and scripts.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty and I’m not gonna roast you for watching something so awful,” you laughed at the movie for how awful it is, that is somehow became a good film?

“I know. And I know you love the show, too.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love learns something new for me

“Ove?”

“Ah shit… this’s embarrassin’…” You faced Ove who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, reading a poem out loud with a bunch of papers that had messily written verses scribbled with lead.

“I suck at words and I… I heard poetry was necessary for Valentine’s Day..? That and I had other things prepared but writing is a pain in the ass…”

You picked up one paper, reading it. “ ‘Your eyes are diamonds, your teeth are pearls, your hair is silk and your skin is glitter’? That is so cheesy~ I didn’t know you’re that type of guy, Ove,” you teased him, catching a rare sight of him blushing a glowing red on his cheeks.

“Well, sorry, I’m trying. It’s my first time writing something like this you know,” he huffed, pouting as he crossed his arms. “And I really do think so…”

You smiled, touched by his words and you kissed him on the cheek. “Well, I feel very loved, and it’s the feelings from you that matters to me.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love carefully thinks of meaning.

“What the heck…” You entered your room to see green glow-in-the-dark stars messily pasted across your room, with a bright moon and sun lamp illuminating the dark room with a golden glow.

Not that it was bad or anything, but why? You walked over to the drawer at the side of your bed to see a note. More specifically, a note from Ove.

“Did he do this while I was gone?” You asked yourself as you sat down and read the note with the help of your two new lamps.

You’re the stars, the moon and the sun of my world. I did. this so you’d remembered that.

-Ove Bell

PS: I’m getting better at poetry, am I right? Also all this costed me a fortune from Sam’s store so please say you like it I worked hard-

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head as your cheeks bloomed pink. Your boyfriend is such a cheesy little freak.

Sevens, do you love him so much.

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love tries his best to make me happy.

“Hey now…” Ove awkwardly wraps an arm around you as he soothingly hummed.

You know he’s not the best at comforting, and you could feel how stiff he was when he sat down beside you.

He bit his bottom lip, unsure of what to do next. His spider on his shoulder, Todd, tapped on his neck and he showed Todd to your face. “He’s not a scary spider… he wants to see you happy, too..!” Ove smiled, but you hung your head low and only nodded half-heartedly. He frowns, and Todd looked at the boy with a worried body expression of tapping his two front legs together. He placed Todd on his shoulder and scooted closer to you.

“Hey now, look. I know… I don’t know why you’re upset but I think you’re really cool. You’re brave to cry in front of others and… you’re not scared of Todd. Or at least you overcome your fear of Todd. Still I…”

He paused for a moment and pulled you closer to him if that was even possible. “I want you to be happy.” You looked at him, he smiled gently with an almost anxious expression, desperately trying to cover it.

He’s trying his best for you, you thought and you smiled meekly. “I’m sorry for burdening you.” He frowns once more. “Burdening me? I love you why would that burden me, ya sweet bug?” He smirks. “I’d be here for you any day.”

You giggled at his antics, smiling fully as he grins. “Thanks, Ove.”

“No need to thank me.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love loves to mess with my hair.

Ove took of his beanie and sat crossed-legged on the floor with a bunch of hairpins and clips, flowers he plucked from outside and from Heartslabyul a brush in hand as he smiled to himself.

You sat in front of him with your back facing him, sighing unamused.

“Don’t do anything funny like last time.”

“What? You know I love playing with your hair~” he coos, slowly brushing your hair.

It was soothing, honestly, and he began to clip some pins and put flowers onto your hair. You hummed to yourself, subconsciously humming to what your boyfriend hums to himself. From his fingers, he touched them and pulled delicate shimmering translucent strings like cobwebs and weaved them like a spider.

“And… done!” He took a hand mirror and gave it to you, letting you see the cobwebbed veil he made that complimented the clips and flowers on your hair.

“Wow…” “Wow indeed, s/o. You look pretty.”

You blushed. “I… tha-” “Pretty normal.”

“OVE-” “I’m joking, I’m joking!” He smiles genuinely. “You’re beautiful.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love loves me.

He sat beside you in the open field as the wind blew a gentle, cool breeze. Ove looked at you, eyes softening as he smiled a little wider. He looked back at the sky you were staring so mesmerisingly at, the sunset that shone over the horizon was a sight to behold indeed.

But not as much as you.

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

“Ove, don’t curse!” You chided him. He chuckles to himself. “Sorry but I can’t help myself.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I just realised how stupid I am.”

“I mean you’re a little dumb, but not stupid. Dumb in not having movie taste.”

He gasped offendedly in a playful manner. “My taste is superior!” “Dream on!”

You both laughed. “Nah, but… I’m stupid to realise I never had guts to do something important.”

“Like?” You asked him, raising a brow.

“This.” The next moment he leaned in to your face, your eyes widening. It all felt like slow motion as he leaned closer and closer, finally pressing his lips on yours. He pulled a way a few moments later, smirking at the way your cheeks burned red.

“I love you,” you blinked momentarily, the words he spoke flowed like a waterfall out of his mouth, no hesitation and with full confidence.

His simple words left you overwhelmed, as you felt the corner of your eyes stung with hot tears.

The boy freaked out when a single tear rolled down your cheek, frantically waving his hand.“H-hey, did I said something wro-”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I… I love you, too.”

He stares at you, his gaze on you unwavering as he smiled softly. “Man… you’re really something, s/o…”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

Reblogs help! ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #ove bell #ove bell x reader #twst oc x reader #twisted wonderland oc x reader #twst ove #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst oneshot #twst fluff #self insert #oc #oc x reader #okay bye-

60 notes · View notes

your-local-e-gorl · 1 year

Text

Where The Dragons Cry

A story where a young girl falls from the sky. Following a terrible event, she meets Link and helps him along his journey.

Link x Reader from the sky

Just a drabble while off my meds. Warnings, will eventually contain smut, my mental illness will show! This may get dark! I am also altering the timeline because fuck it! I’m a god!

Chapter 1

…

"Lady Viana, what's on your mind?" I turn, the ocean fading from my view. My beloved guard, Feodore, smiles encouragingly. "Nothing," I respond.

"I can tell from that look. You can be honest with me.” I fiddle with my hands as I debate my words. “Feodore, you know much about the world. I want to know too." Feodore's smile slowly fades into a stern look. He knows where this is going and is quick to shut me down.

"Princess, we've discussed this. We all have a role to play. Yours is-" "To offer prayer and follow in my mother's steps. But don't you think there's something more out there?" I ask. "The world is full of things that can and will hurt you. I won't humor this any longer. It's time to go to the reflecting pool. We’re falling behind schedule.”

I cross my arms sorrowfully. This is why I never talk about what I want. It always gets ignored. My wants are insignificant to this chain of life. “Fine. You can make me go, but you can’t make me focus,” I mutter under my breath.

…

"Viana, why the long face?" I sigh resolutely. "Grandmother..." The lady sits beside me, bow on her back and sword on her side. Even at 103 she’s still feisty. “Why must I be confined to this lagoon? Everyone else can leave. Mother and father even said I could venture out when I turn of age. I've been of age for at least a year!" I protest.

Grandma chortles, the opals on her cheeks glistening in the moonlight. "Patience. You've got much to learn, such as reading the sky and how to protect yourself." I huff in frustration. "Then teach me! Feodore refuses to! What good is a guard if I don't leave anyway? Who’s going to target me here?”

I release my breath heavily. "Come. You see that star?" I follow her slowly. What is she on about? "There?" "Yes. The star is always north. Now here- this is how we measure the stars." I smile as she walks me through the steps. Someone is willing to teach me.

"Grandma, do you think I'll ever use this?" She smiles wide. "Via, my dear. We come from warriors, voyagers and many more. What do you think your place is in this?" I shrug weakly. "Mother says I should be a high priestess just as she is. Someone must take over."

"Do you want it to be you?" I shake my head. "Not one bit. But everyone says that it must be me." Grandma approaches me and tenderly grasps my shoulders. "Here. For you." I gasp at the necklace decorated in opals and pearls and the brightest aquamarine jewels.

"It doesn’t sound like you’re the one to follow an unwanted life. When you decide the outcome of your path, should you ever leave. Remember that each of these will give you something. Each jewel is worth it to someone out there." I smile gratefully. "Thank you.

…

"Oh, my goddess, I feel so stuck. I know I must follow the path set for me, yet I feel as there's more to my life than this!" I cry out to the statue. "Mother says I should offer my prayer diligently. Father and Feodore say I should focus on devoting myself, but it feels wrong! Grandmother says I need to explore, and tells me stories of miraculous places. I just... Feel so stuck."

I take a stabilizing breath. "Please, guide me." As I finish my prayer, a noise like roaring startles me. The ground shakes violently. My head turns quickly as the water ripples around my waist.

"Viana!" "Feo?" My eyes widen as I see the red running down my guard's face in thin streams "What happened!" "These things- they're like spiders! They brought fire and it's not safe! Please, you have to hide!" My hands tremble. "Mother and father- grandma! We have to-"

"They're gone! Your grandma tried to fight back but she... She vanished. Your parents are helping the others to run." My chest throbs as I collapse. "No. No, this can't be?" I pulled to my feet.

"Viana. Take this canoe and flee. You must ensure the clan survives," Feodore urges. I'm pushed forward as a beeping noise starts. My head swims rapidly, like I’m a child unable to comprehend. “What? No- I can’t make it alone!” I shriek while reaching for him. He continues to push me frantically. I’m shoved into the pole in a last desperate attempt to keep me at bay.

"Go! They'll destroy us all!" he shouts. My boat is launched as a blast echoes. Heat licks at my skin as I cling to the rope. Shock shits my legs down causing me to lose movement.

"Feodore!" My shrieks are futile as the metallic beast focuses it's eye on me and my canoe. Please... Goddess no. A white light captures my view as the impact rocks the water. This is it-

…

My eyes widen as my body is shaken. Water forces itself from my mouth as I cough violently. This is awful. It's painful. I feel like I haven’t breathed in years.

"Where- am I?" Warmth startles me as I look up. A strangely beautiful man stares in concern as I cough once more. "Who are you?” My vision blurs as I blink. It hurts so bad. I whimper as I curl tightly. No tears will be shed in front of this strange man.

"Ah!" I let out a groan as I'm set against sand. Why am I alive? How am I alive? The others? "My people," I groan. "I have to get back... I must help them." I can't be too far from the lagoon. As I attempt to stand, a terrible scream leaves my lips. My vision fades slowly as I go careening headfirst towards the sand.

I wake up sore and sweaty. My limbs barely stretch. Something unfamiliar causes me to look around. This isn't my dwelling. There's no water. The sleeping object is warm and dry. Heavy as well. It isn’t the lily that I sleep on.

A moan of agony escapes my lips as I sit up too quickly. Luckily, I manage to breathe through the pain. What... Happened?

I was in the lagoon. I was praying to Hylia. The ground shook. There was red. Everything was... Red. Feo loaded me on a canoe when the monster came. That monster- that monster was attacking us.

I struggle to my feet, stumbling occasionally. My left leg is almost excruciating to stand on but I have to get back. Maybe there are survivors? They'd think I abandoned them. What if-

"Ah!" I hiss sharply as heat licks at my wounds. I fall from some indoor landscaping. A light illuminates the room and a figure quickly rushes to me.

"W-who are you?" I gasp weakly. A cough wrenches itself from my body. It's a boy. The very one who helped me off the crashed canoe.

"I- thank you for your aid but I must get home, can you show me to my canoe?" I ask through ragged breaths. I’ve never felt pain like this. The boy stares with uncertainty. "Please, I beg of you. If not- it might be too late! My people will all die!" I plead.

His expression turns to one of worry. It's not every day this happens. He slightly shakes his head. "Why not!" I almost demand. I didn't ask to be brought here.

"Dangerous." I glare. "I do not care! The lives of my people- my home! It's all at stake. I need to get there.” Why should he care! My anger is misplaced. “You need… you should rest,” he says softly. The tone says that he doesn’t believe they’re still alive. “I insist you let me leave,” I return firmly. I will not fall victim to wasted time. Not when every second could be a second towards saving my family.

I manage to stagger from the strange dwelling and drag myself down a hill with this silent man behind me. He doesn’t say a word, only carries a worried expression that really manages to get under my skin.

"If you're not going to help, then go away!" I say. My bare feet meet the sand, still cool to the touch.

About five minutes down I see the canoe. I hobble quickly, pain spreading throughout my bones. My face falls at the tattered sail, the broken steer and the frayed ropes. There’s no hope of fixing it as I am. Maybe I could pay someone to fix it?

I open the hatch and check for more ropes, startled by blood on the wood. Food, a water pouch, a bag and- "N-no. Grandma," I gasp. Her signature bow and quiver is covered in blood. Smears paint the arrows as if she was trying to fight.

All at once, my legs lose strength when I think of Feo running with this, the image of him frantically looking for me. "No!" I sob. Mother's diamond and opal head dress lays around the bag, frazzled and smelling of death. If he had left these- if we could have made it a fraction earlier, I could have forced him onto the boat. "No! No, no, no- please!" I beg to the sky. Nothing is given as a response. Just silence.

How do I lose everything in one day? Why did I not fight with my people? I'm a coward! A good for nothing write off. Why am I so powerless!

Hands touch my shoulders gently. I look up through blurry eyes. "What?" I sniffle. The man kneels and offers a cloth. I freeze for a moment at his act of kindness before coming to my senses a little. "Thank...thank you. And I'm sorry. This is an unbecoming sight of someone like me. Forgive me."

My face is gently cleaned as I drop my hands weakly. I don't know what to do. The life I knew is suddenly over. I'm lost in this feeling of grief. What comes next? Why would Feodore leave me alone?

More tears slip free as I curl, protecting the jeweled crown. "I'm sorry," I cry. I repeat the phrase rapidly as if begging for forgiveness of the goddess.

"Don't apologize." His voice is light and quiet. Very soothing. A hand drops in front of me. "Come on. You've got to continue." I accept his hand- a light in the dark- despite my tears that continuously flow.

I gasp in pain as I put pressure on my leg. The man steadies me as I stagger. I inhale to catch my breath slowly. I've got to keep going with my head held high. As of today, I’m the new leader of the Talakaa clan.

My thoughts are interrupted by my feet leaving the ground. "W-what are you doing? I'm heavy, put me down!" I choke. He looks at me as if I'm crazy. This is embarrassing! Being treated like some child!

"Please, you'll hurt your self," I warn. The man snorts in disregard. I squirm to attempt to get to my feet. He stares at me but continues to walk regardless. I sigh nervously. I'm not used to being carried friendly like. I've never been 'the stranger'. I've always been the princess. I wonder who he is. He has to be a guard, seeing at how he man handles me. It’s much like Feodore would, however it’s much more gentle.

…

We sit in silence, which is odd. Even more so, he keeps staring at me. Discomfort causes me to stare back. It is now a staring contest that neither of us is backing down from.

"Yes?" "Why are you staring?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Better yet, why are you helping me?" Silence follows. "Well?" "Because you seem like a fighter."

I freeze. Me? A fighter? I turn away. "I see. I think we’re both going to be surprised. Im not a very good fighter. And you have odd reasons for saving people. Most do it for a reward, nowadays. But thank you for your hospitality... If I'm ever able to repay you, please do not hesitate to let me know. I will be out of your hair by tomorrow," I inform him.

His face is slightly stern as a hand touches my face. "Where will you go? You've got a broken leg and a fever." I shrug lightly. Hes very friendly despite his peculiar attitude.

"I'm not sure. But I cannot impose any longer." He shakes his head firmly. "Stay until you're better." I frown sheepishly. "Are you certain? I would hate to be a bother. You've already saved my life," I object.

He nods quietly causing me to frown further. "At least let me repay you somehow. For intruding on your quietness. I'm sure your family would be upset." He chuckles at my words. "There is nobody. It's just me."

I look at him softly. Just him must be lonely. "Really? Then I shall do my best to not interrupt your lifestyle." I remove my diamond earring and offer it to him. "For you. It's not much but-" "I don't want your possessions. You don't have to feel bad. I'm glad someone can be here to keep the house while I'm gone."

"Gone? Do you travel a lot?" I gasp. He nods. "How amazing! What is it like? I've heard there are mountains that stretch all the way to the heavens! And areas that snow!" I inquire intensely.

"I've heard the ocean goes on forever." The man smiles fondly. "It's rough. But enjoyable. You meet a lot of people."

…

A hand touches my forehead gently. I tighten my eyes in protest. "Hmmm. Cold."

My breathing is ragged as I fight to look up. "Mr. Hero. Good morning," I rasp. He hums and walks up the stairs. My eyes close again and opens just in time to see him leaving. "Take care," I croak.

Time passes and soon it's evening again. I have to pray or else. I force myself out of bed, lightening the load on my wounded leg. If I shuffle slightly I can step on it without sobbing.

By the time I make it to the beach, the sun is high in the sky. It was much faster being carried. Gratitude fills my chest as I sink into the water. Most manifests from my orb, reflecting an image in the water as I try to call out to anyone. Anyone at all.

To my delight, it’s my gramma. "Grandma! I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you," I pray. Her spirit smiles softly from the water, the orb on my head slowly allowing me to form a better connection to her. “My girl, don't cry. I fought along with my people for almost 100 years. I'd gladly do it again."

My tears mingle with the water. "But why? I don't understand why I'm the only one to survive. Did I disappoint the goddess? Was this a punishment for my reluctance to be the next priestess?"

My breath comes out shakily. "Punishment? The goddess does not punish." "Then why-" Grandma smiles kindly. "You're the missing piece. This is your destiny. Avenge the Talakaa tribe and stop the disasters." “Stop the disasters? I couldn't even prevent my people from dying! I'm a failure!"

"This is mere fate. You were destined for this path just as I was destined to become a spirit." I hit the water. "I don't want this- this destiny is wrong!" I shout. Rage fills my chest at the turn of events. I don’t want to hear this at all! I want my family back!

"Viana-" "I don't want to do this! I can't do this!" I panic. My lips tremble. "You can. I'll be with you. In here and wherever you are." I inhale. "How do I?" I exhale. "Don't worry about how, just answer the call. You'll know when it's time."

Water drips to my cheeks. I cannot tell if it’s a tear or mist from my grandma. “Our time is running short. Keep your head up, my girl.” "Thank you. I'll be strong. I promise. And. If you see the others, tell them I'm sorry. I couldn't say goodbye."

More water falls before dispersing the spirit. Somehow I feel stronger. Yet weaker. I have to do my clan right.

The dizziness in my body is consuming me. But I must continue to be diligent in prayer. I have to strengthen my will. I can't stop anything if my heart is weak.

Footsteps sound in the water rapidly before I'm face to face with the hylian. "What are you doing?" he mutters. "Praying. I-" "You are sick." I wave him off. "This is my duty. I'm fine."

I'm picked up quickly. "You don't have to watch over me. I'm not here to burden you." I protest and attempt to get out of his arms. "Anyways, I thought you were leaving?" "For supplies."

I huff as I'm brought into the house and set on the couch, my breath shallow. The man goes to the kitchen before returning with a cup of something strange smelling and odd clothing.

"For you." I tilt my head. "Clothing? What is this beverage?" "Tea to help your fever." It must have cost him a fortune to have this brought here. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll pay you back!" I swear.

He waves dismissively before turning. "Feel free to change. I'll be in the kitchen." I clear my throat. "Thank you." How do you dress?

The man suddenly apologizes. "It must be hard, with a broken leg. If you need help-" I smile gratefully. "I think I can do it. Mostly. My guard usually did this for me," I laugh awkwardly. "Your guard?" I nod.

"I had a guard named Feodore. He was responsible for everything including my protection down to my meals. So I'm a bit useless. But I'll learn!" I promise. He must be regretting his decision to save such a useless waif. The man turns thoughtfully as I manage to get my garb off. I slip an arm through and somehow end up in a horrible tie.

"Um-" His eyes dart from my chest to my face before he goes red. "I'm sorry!" I bow apologetically. "No, I-I-“ he freezes up before finally closing his eyes. “I forgot that I told you to change.” The situation is so absurd, I don’t know what to do. “Can you help me?” I finally ask. He takes a deep breath before nodding. “I’ll close my eyes. I promise!”

A week passes by before I work up the courage to ask for my caretaker’s title. "Um, I just realized, I don't know your name," I mumble, slightly sighing at the male. He watches too closely. I feel a bit shy. "I should at least know who I'm going to repay." "Link. And you don't have to repay me."

I turn to him from the sea. "Well Link, as the former princess of the Talakaa clan, I'm going to." He clears his throat. "I think I should know your name as well. Since I'm guarding you-" I turn. "Guarding? You don't have to. I'm sure you'd much prefer traveling again. Please don't worry of me. Oh! There I go avoiding the first part,” I laugh. “I’m Viana.”

Link watches as I approach him, the water parting slowly. "As I said, as soon as I'm healed I'll be out of your hair." His hand goes to his hip. "Of course.” I nod. "Shall we head back?"

During dinner, he breaks some unsavory news to me. “You're leaving?" I ask. "Yeah. I prepared some meals. If you run out, Prima at the inn can help you." I nod with uncertainty. I'm all alone again.

"Don't look so sad. I'll be back in about a week." I shrug coolly in retaliation. "Me? Sad? As if. Take care out there, Mr. Knight." I'm surprised with a small grin.

#botw au #botw #botw link #botw totk #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #linked universe #link au

7 notes · View notes

theheadlessgroom · 1 year

Text

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/716259973868486656/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“It’s okay,” Randall assured her gently, seeing how unsettled she was by all the attention being on her all the sudden, while Wilhelm found himself smiling as he looked between his wife and son, saying, “That’s...that’s incredible! She must have the memory of an elephant-better than an elephant, even! A-And that sound, it’s...it’s...!”

“Beautiful,” June finished, trying to settle down her excitable husband so as not to ruffle their guest’s feathers (or scales, perhaps, would be the better comparison) too much, her too noticing how nervous she was at having an audience-to try and calm her, she gave her an honest applause, saying, “You have a very lovely voice, Emily.”

“Y-Yes, you-you do!” Wilhelm stuttered out, smiling to her as he paid her this compliment, saying, “I, uh, I’m not much of a singer myself, I just play this...”

“Oh, Wil, you’re a lovely singer!” June replied, kissing his cheek as Randall, smiling as well, encouraged, “Why don’t you show her your voice, Pa, I’m sure she’d like to hear it!”

Although Wilhelm good-naturedly protested, he just couldn’t say no to his family, and so, he smiled lightly to Emily as he once again began to play, his low, warm voice filling the room as his fingers ran along the strings:

“…Well, I'm sorry for the things that I told you, but words only go so far, and if I had my way, I would reach into Heaven and I'd pull you down a star For a present, and I'd make you a chain out of diamonds, and pearls from a summer sea, But all I can give you is a kiss in the morning and a sweet apology...”

#((it would; and rightfully so!! one of the most iconic and beloved musicals of all time; being instantly recognizable))#((from the logo to the music itself to the costume design; one of the big musicals that is associated strongly with broadway/nyc as a whole)#((its departure has already been highly publicized; so its return would be even more celebrated i feel!))#((and true; it is VERY good that emily isn't trying to lure them in; randall in particular would be VERY easy pickings right about now!))#((but instead i think this'll be a nice ice-breaking moment; so to speak! i think music would be an interesting proverbial bridge))#((for emily and wilhelm; even though a siren's biggest weapon is in many ways their voice; and wilhelm knows that))#((he can't help but be delighted by her memory skills and ability to echo melodies!))#((i think it'll be a nice way for the two to warm up to one another!))#outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Part of Your World

7 notes · View notes

eternally-smutty · 8 months

Text

Stripping • Seduction • Blowjob

summary: Roman and Natalie play a little game in his office instead of working

word count: ~1.7k

content: 18+, minors do not interact, public sex, clothed sex, blowjobs, handjobs, stripping, facial, pearl necklace

author's note: as soon as I saw "stripping" and "formal wear" on the kinktober prompts, I knew I had to do Roman (even though I didn't consider this the "formal wear" prompt lol)

tag list: @wwafterdark

banner credit: cafekitsune

kinktober prompt list: flightlessangelwings

“Would you like to play a game?” Roman asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Natalie stopped typing on her laptop and looked up at him, “What kind of game?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “Maybe something like…We ask each other questions about ourselves and if the other gets the answer wrong, we have to do something.”

“And that ‘something’ is what exactly?” She shut her laptop and gave Roman her full attention.

“I’m so glad you asked.” He swiveled around in his chair, “Have you ever heard of strip poker?”

Natalie scoffed, “Do you think you’re talking to a caveman?”

He stood up from his chair and moved to the loveseat that was in his office, “I’ll take that as a yes, you know what that is. Same rules, only no poker. You in?”

“Are you really that bored of work?” She asked in a condescending tone.

“Aren’t you?” He giggled, “You’re the one who asked to work in my office with me. I think someone is desperate for her boss’ attention and I am willingly giving it to you. You should feel special.”

She smirked, “You’re right, and I do. Your gaze is worth more than any five star meal, Rome.”

“Good,” Roman clasped his hands together, “Let’s begin, shall we?”

“I’m game.” Natalie fixed her glasses, “Who goes first? And what does the loser get?”

“Hmm, good point.” He tapped his chin with his pointer finger, “I’ll be polite and follow the ‘ladies first’ rule. As for the loser, they have to do whatever the winner asks of them.”

“Sounds easy enough. I have to think about what I’d like you to do for me.”

“Oh ho, you’re awfully confident, aren’t you?.” He gave her a playful look, “Alright, go on.”

“Okay,” She took a breath, thinking about a question to ask, “Am I a cat or a dog person?”

“What is this, grade school? I feel like everyone asks that. What’s next, you’re gonna ask if I know what your favorite color is?”

“If you don’t know the answer then just say so and strip!”

Roman shook his head, “Fine…dogs? I think you told me you liked dogs one time.”

Natalie mimicked a buzzer sound, “Wrong, I’m a cat person. I do like dogs, though.”

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath, pretending to be annoyed that he got that question wrong.

“Alright, take it off.” She watched him intensely, “Don’t keep me waiting. I’m not a very patient girl.”

He started with his shoes and slowly untied the laces, “Pushy, pushy. If you’re that excited to see my dick, you could’ve just asked me to show it to you.”

Natalie watched Roman neatly place his shoes to the side and audibly groaned, “Says you, Mr. Let’s-Play-a-Strip-Tease-Game. Like you said, you could’ve just asked to see and fondle my tits and I would’ve let you.”

“Oh, you are too kind, my little assistant.” His elbows rested against his knees, “My turn, how do I like my coffee best?”

“Easy, black.” She said confidently.

He shrugged, “Eh, you’re right. I do like it black, but I don’t like it best.”

“You’re being a dick on purpose so I’ll lose!” Natalie acted appalled but she secretly did want to be wrong.

“I like it with a little bit of cream. I just take it black most times. But cream is best.” He pointed at her, “Your turn.”

She sighed and stood up, fiddling with the zipper on her skirt, “Unlike you, I’m going to choose a non-boring option.”

He watched her shimmy out of her tight, black skirt and discard it to the side. He never thought that seeing her in nothing but her blouse and see-through tights would drive him wild, but it did. Her panties could be seen perfectly through her tights and he could see every detail. How skimpy they were, what color, the fact that it had lace along the edges.

Roman forced himself to tear his eyes away from her thighs, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Why?” She sat back down in her chair and crossed her legs, “Is it working?”

“I dunno, you tell me.” He gestured towards the very obvious erection pressing against his pants.

Natalie giggled and smirked at him, “Glad to know I’m doing my job well. Are you sure you want to play this game instead of just ripping my clothes off? Or, you can just tear a hole in my tights and have at it. I already did the easy part for you by removing my skirt.”

He clicked his tongue, “I’m afraid I won’t fall for your tricks, you little office succubus. You’re making it hard to resist, though.”

“If you’re sure.” She leaned back in her chair and uncrossed her legs to show off her panties again, “I believe it’s your turn, Romulus.”

They continued back and forth with this stripping game Roman created to escape boredom, each question getting trickier than the last. Roman was oddly good at the game, remembering more things about Natalie than he thought he knew. He also purposefully changed his answers just to watch her strip before him. Finally, it got to where all she had left on her body were her bra and tights. He still had his boxers and his shirt on.

He let out a pleased hum while unbuttoning his shirt, “Looks like I win. Now, about ripping into those tights…”

“Excuse me,” Natalie curled her lip, “I still have my bra and panties on so, I’m not sure if we can consider that winning.”

“Fine, then how about one more question-?” He was cut off by the phone on his desk loudly ringing.

They both paused and didn’t say a word in hopes that the phone would eventually stop ringing and they could continue their little game. Unfortunately, whoever was calling Roman was incredibly persistent.

He loudly sighed, “Let’s consider that this game show’s buzzer, hmm? I win.”

“I guess so.” Natalie drummed her long, painted fingernails against the wooden armrest of the chair, “So, what is your prize, valiant winner of the office strip tease?”

Roman sat at his desk and placed his hand on the phone, “Get under my desk.” He said before picking up the phone, “Hello? Yes, this is Roman Roy.”

She followed his orders and crawled underneath his desk, minding all the tangled cords that were on the floor. She peered up at him from under his desk and grinned devilishly, knowing exactly what he wanted. Roman continued to speak flatly into the phone and mouthed “Shoot me,” to Natalie.

“How about I do something else instead?” She whispered, making sure she wasn’t loud enough for whoever was on the other side of the phone to hear.

Roman chuckled softly and nodded, moving his phone to his non-dominant hand and pulling his boxers down with his now free hand. His cock sprung out of his boxers, leaking some precum and almost begging to be touched. Natalie looked up and mouthed “May I?” to him, making him nod quickly. He looked almost desperate. She then gently wrapped her fingers around his shaft and slowly spread his precum around his head with her thumb to test the waters. Roman fought back a groan and tried to play it off like he had a sore throat to the insistent caller.

Perfect. Time for revenge. This is what he gets for cheating at his own game.

Natalie toyed with his cock a little bit, wrapping her lips around the head and softly lapping at it with her tongue. Roman's eyes shot open and he covered his mouth with his hand, biting his finger a bit to help him hold back the urge to moan.

"Y-Yes?" He stuttered into the phone, choking back a groan that crept in his throat, "Yes, I'm feeling fine. I'm so-sorry, it's just allergies. Please, continue-!"

Natalie licked a long, sloppy stripe up his cock before taking him all in, humming against it. Roman gasped at her suddenness but melted into her touch. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pushed her farther down on his cock, whining quietly. She braced herself on his thighs and looked up at him from over her glasses with wide eyes. He smirked slightly and took her glasses off for her, putting them on the desk so they didn't get in her way.

"I-I'm sorry," Roman bucked his hips into her mouth and gripped the phone tightly, "Can this possibly wait another time, maybe, please? Why? Um," He peered down at Natalie, who looked at him through her lashes, "I'm a bit wrapped up in something at the moment. Call me back another time, okay? Cool."

He slammed the phone down and dug his nails into the armrests of his chair, "Jesus fucking Christ, you know how to use that mouth of yours. I think you deserve a raise."

Natalie hummed in agreement and licked up and down on his cock greedily, making sure every inch was coated in her spit. Then, she pulled away from him with a loud, wet noise and started to pump him with her hand. Roman felt dizzy with all the attention his dick was getting, so into it that he forgot to warn Natalie that he was about to cum.

"Nat, I-!" He was cut off by his own whimper as he came and shot his seed on her chin and neck. The office was filled with his lewd noises, so much so that both of them were sure that the cubicles next to them could hear him.

Natalie giggled sheepishly, "Thank you for moving my glasses before you made a mess on them."

Roman leaned his head back in his chair and caught his breath, sighing softly, "Sure, anything for you. Thank you for being such a gracious loser."

He grabbed her a tissue from the box on his desk and handed it to her. His cum dribbled down her neck and landed on her tits. Natalie took the tissue and started to dab at it to clean herself off. She then backed out of his desk and started to dress herself.

"Well, this was fun." She handed his clothes to him, "Let's just hope we don't have an email written up about our 'inappropriate behavior'."

He took his clothes from her hands, "Come on, who doesn't love a good HR violation? Especially one with such a pretty assistant?"

#my stuff ♡#👔💼#minors dni #nsft #nsft self shipping #kinktober

2 notes · View notes

rottingreveries · 2 years

Note

imagine. okay i,agine okay. keep best friend rindou in mind. just. justi magine this is after 500k words of pining and miscommunication. (also this is your first kiss bc unfortunately i hqve not kissed anyone in mh life but i digress)

you and rindou are on the balcony, the doors closed and the music of the party muffled through them. the night air is chilly, and other than the house behind you and the cicadas singing, there’s not a sound. you’re both sitting on the ground, and his knee is touching yours. you don’t know who scooted closer first, but the next thing you know, your thighs are flushed against each other, body heat seeping through your jeans.

and he’s the one that makes the first move. you turn your face towards him and the stars twinkle in his eyes, the moonlight illuminating them like lilac pearls. it’s rindou that leans in, the one that puts his hand on your thigh for support as he tilts his head, lips parted, eyes fluttering closed. he hesitates centimeters from your face, and you hear him take a deep inhale before rushing forward, lips finally meeting yours.

and it’s not like the cliche shows where kissing feels like fireworks exploding. there’s no sparks of light in your peripheral vision, save for the moon and the streetlights below. there’s no sound of popping fireworks. the world remains the same, the muffled melody of the music behind you, the cicadas singing, and your heart beating so loud in your ears you barely hear them.

they say your first kiss tastes like lemons but right now it just tastes like cheap beer. but you don’t care because it’s rindou and you feel queasy, in a good way. your reaction comes late, a small squeak just as rindou is pulling away, his ears tinged red. and he lets out a breathless laugh as he bends his head, pressing his forehead against yours as you both process the kiss and hiaejaiosofooforfor FUCK OFFFGJFKFJD

KA I AM GOING TO GO INSANE THIS IS SO CUTE HELP ME I AM M A L F U N C T I O N I N G OH MY GOD OH MY GFJDKFJJSNFN

#he’s so cute #i want him so bad HELLO?#FUCK ME IM—

7 notes · View notes

bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Spoiled Rotten - Toji Fushiguro

Half baked gangster/shady business dealer toji fushiguro idea...hope ya like it lol. Femme reader, 3k words

Content warningsss: a lot a lot of the word daddy lol, drinking, biting, drug usage(cocaine to be specific)

“There’s my little minx.” It’s his deep, smoky voice that you hear first when you open your door one late Friday night, dripping in an expensive borderline too short silk dress. A cropped white fur coat is your only protection against the crisp night air, the rest of your body - bare legs, open chest and feet clad in high heels - is exposed.

“Hey daddy.” You purr, sliding into his waiting arms. The scent of Toji’s cologne engulfs you, the warmth from his own thick fur coat surrounding you as he kisses the top of your head.

“See you got the purse I sent.” He pulls away slightly, thumbing the chain of the purse he had sent over this morning.

“Mhmm, I love it. Exactly my style.” Beaming up at him, you giggled as he slid an arm low around your waist.

“Daddy knows his girl well.” His hand dips down to squeeze your ass and then he’s closing your door, nudging you to the chauffeured blacked out SUV waiting on the street. “Now let's get going.”

As soon as you’re in the car, you’re seated in Toji’s lap, his thick legs spread out to support you. He keeps a hand on your back to keep you steady as the car rocks, and the other hand is high on your thigh, thumbing the hem of the dress just barely covering you.

“You look so fucking sexy.” Gripping your thigh, Toji lets out a low groan. “Gonna be the prettiest girl in that whole place.”

“Thank you daddy.” You press a few kisses to his jaw, lightly staining his skin with your lipstick.

“I got you a gift, I want you to wear it tonight.” Leaning over, he flips a compartment open in the center console and pulls out a velvet box. Curiously, you take it and unwrap it quickly.

“Oh wow!” Inside the box is a drop pearl necklace, delicate gold chain weighed down by a single pearl and then a slightly smaller one above it.

“Lemme put it on for you.” Shrugging your jacket down your shoulders, you sit as still as possible as Toji places the necklace on you. The pearl dips down your chest, nestling right at the curve of your breasts. “What a fucking treasure.” His fingers skim along the edges of the necklace, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You kiss him as a thank you, the scar on the edge of his lip a familiar sensation. He smiles into the kiss, hand coming up to grab your chin softly and open your mouth. Sliding his tongue past your teeth, you let out a squeak as the car comes to a full stop.

“We’re here, sir.” The chauffeur announces, knowing better than to say anything else or to look at Toji without permission.

“Let’s go doll.” Sliding you off his lap, Toji opens the door and helps you out. There’s a gust of wind that whips as you step out, almost making you jump back into the car. Pulling you closer to him, Toji doesn’t let you escape that easily.

“This the new club you opened?” Fixing your gaze on the bright, warm flashing light bulbs in front of you, you do your best to ignore the cold. It looks like something straight out of a movie: overly buff doormen, a long line of people dressed to the nines hoping to get in before the club closes. There’s VIP guests mingling outside, some smoking cigarettes while some are clearly high.

“Boss.” One of the bouncers nods and lets the two of you in without question. Immediately you’re thrust into the hustling club, scantily clad waitresses passing by with trays of drinks for wealthy clients sitting at semi-circular tables along the wall. Red velvet lines every seat and gold accents drip from the ceilings.

There’s a dance floor in the middle of the club, crowded with people trying to have a good time. Toji always knew how to throw a party, a star DJ headlining the opening night. All it takes is a nod to a member of his security team and you’ve got a strongly mixed drink in your hand, the fruity pink color doing nothing to hide the hard bite of alcohol.

“Whaddya think?” Toji asks over the music, taking your jacket off your shoulders and handing it to someone along with his own coat. With the garment now off you can see his physique more clearly in a crisp fitted black button up and slacks, the tight shirt highlighting his muscles perfectly.

“It’s great!”

“There’s more floors, follow me.” To the side of the room is a stairway tucked away he leads you to, a few people mingling along the steps. The sound of the pumping bass fades away and the atmosphere shifts.

Coming upon the second floor, you’re greeted by a room full of card games. Poker, blackjack and roulette tables were full of people playing, mountains of chips just waiting to be bet.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to open a casino?” His proposition to open this part of the club had been rejected last you’d heard.

“Yeah well the mayor owes me a few favors.” Patting your shoulder, Toij flicks his chin out to the room. “Wanna play a game, baby?”

“Okay!” Flitting away to a blackjack table, you could feel the eyes following you, sizing you up first and then landing Toji. There were several people here that would love to take you home, you could feel it in the way they eyed your legs and bare shoulders and it made a satisfied smirk worm its way onto your face, putting a bit more obvious sway in your hips as you walked.

“Putting on a show I see.” Toji chuckled as he sat down at an open table, immediately pulling you onto his lap. Waving his hand, a stack of chips are brought to the table and put in front of him, and another drink is brought for you.

You played the game of blackjack marginally well, not particularly caring if you won or lost. It was all Toji’s money after all, he would win it back and then some by the end of the night. There was no need to worry about playing smart, all you had to do was have fun.

“Shit, lost again.” You huffed, seeing the last of your chips taken away.

“Let’s play some poker, some friends of mine just walked in.” Getting up and moving tables, you greeted the friends Toji was talking about. They were people you’d seen before, and you could make decent conversation with them, but when you were seated at the poker table there wasn’t space to talk.

Toji kept you snuggly in his lap, one hand cupping just under your ass every time you moved and kissing the top of your head as you snuggled into his shoulder. Following along with the cards, you helped him play, earning back a few chips and slightly redeeming yourself from blackjack.

“Daddy, I wanna go dance.” You whispered in Toji’s ear forty-five minutes later, getting antsy and bored.

“Go have fun baby, I’ll catch up in a few.” Sliding you off his lap, Toji kissed your hand and sent you on your way. There was a security guard trailing you, one he’d hired to be with you whenever the two of you went out.

“Can you get me a drink? Just the same one I’ve been having will do!” Patting the burly man on the shoulder, you grinned widely as he nodded and left to the bar. You didn’t have to wait long for him to come back, handing you the drink silently.

Downing it quickly, you hopped onto the packed dance floor. The bass vibrated strongly from the floor up your legs, making your feet go numb the longer you danced. You tried to keep an eye out for Toji, see when he came downstairs so you could drag him onto the floor, but he took far too long to keep your interest.

Dancing with multiple different people, you paid no mind to the hands that glided along the small of your back or across your arms. It all added to the experience of the club, the music drowning out any attempts at conversation.

The ache in your feet couldn’t be ignored any longer now. A good number of songs had passed and you were tired. Not bothering to look for Toji, you sauntered over to the bar, the security guard snagging you an empty seat with ease.

Downing a glass of water and ordering another drink, you spun around in the bar stool and scanned the club. It was packed with even more people and as the front doors swung open you could see the line to get in was still as packed as ever.

“Hey, how’s it going?” A voice cut into the little bubble you’d made for yourself, a flash of white streaking across the corner of your vision.

“Hm?” Turning to face whoever had just sat down, you were face to face with a lanky man with wild white hair, black sunglasses low on his nose to reveal sharp blue eyes.

“I saw you dancing earlier, you looked really sexy.”

“Thanks.” You were unimpressed and he could tell by your tone. Crossing your legs, you turned fully back to the bar and swirled your drink, the scent of alcohol wafting up to your nose as you took a sip. The stranger’s eyes roamed all over you, drinking in the expanse of slightly sweaty skin before him.

“I’m Gojo.” He stuck a hand out, flashing you a grin as he waited for you to shake it.

“(Y/N).” Grabbing his hand with your thumb and forefinger, you shook it. You weren’t really interested in the man, but after taking another look over your shoulder and not seeing Toji, you shrugged slightly. No harm in entertaining yourself for a bit.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Thanks.” The cheesy line made you snort, a smile spreading on your cheeks despite yourself.

“Even prettier when you smile.”

“You really are a charmer, huh?” Leaning your head on your fist, you sized him up. He wasn’t particularly well dressed, just good enough to get in.

“Depends, is it working?”

“Depends. Buy me a drink?”

You end up making conversation with Gojo far longer than anticipated, somehow getting wrapped up in a story he’s telling that sounds too good to be true. He’d bought you two more drinks and you were certainly feeling the effects.

You were leaning far too close to him, nearly sliding off your own stool as your legs tangled with his. Your chest had dipped forward, the necklace dangling off your neck and the neckline of your dress plunging lower. A hand was now resting on his forearm, gripping it tighter as you laughed at something stupid he said.

“You’re so stupid!” You’re laughing far too loudly but you’re too tipsy to care. Toji’s prolonged absence had irked you enough that you didn’t care who saw you cozying up to this new guy; you wished someone had the nerve to say something to you, or better yet go right to him and tell him that his little minx had her eyes on a new prize.

“I’m tellin’ ya it’s the truth!” Gojo laughs right back, stretching out his long arms and putting one around the side of your seat, caging you in even more. Giggling at the absurdity of what he just said, your gaze snakes out across the club, out past the intimate little space you’re in.

Toji is sitting right at a VIP table a few feet away, his jaw cocked to the side and a pissed off look in his eyes. When you make eye contact, you giggle again and blow him a kiss, turning back to Gojo and putting a hand high on his shoulder, nearly wrapping it around his neck as you laugh extra loud in spite.

“How’s the liquor treating you, baby?” Gojo asks, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. The sound of his voice calling you that name doesn’t hit the same as with Toji, but you let it slide.

“Just fine.” You croon, fixing Gojo with your best smile and making his already pink cheeks flush a little deeper. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Toji sit up a little straighter and his sleeves have been pushed up to his elbows, baring his flexed forearms.

Looking directly at Toji, your fingers slid up the back of Gojos neck, finding the hair at his nape and twirling it between your fingers. Scraping your nails lightly against his neck, you’re not listening at all to what he’s saying now. An excited ripple runs through you, settling in your stomach as Toji stands up.

“Alright, funs over.” He huffs, yanking your hand off Gojo and pushing him away from you.

“What the fuck!” Gojo shouts, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion.

“Look who decided to show up.” You quip, pulling your hand from his grasp and waving over the bartender. “I’ll have another, thanks.”

“Get lost pal.” Gojo attempts to push Toji away but the man doesn’t budge. He tries to grab your wrist again but Gojo stops him, grabbing onto his arm tightly. “Hey, don’t touch-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Toji grunts, glaring harshly at Gojo. “Don’t get involved with shit you don’t know about.” You have to bite back a giggle behind your drink as Gojos mouth hangs open slightly. Grabbing your shoulder, Toji gets you to turn halfway to him. “You’ve had your fun, lets go.”

“Mmmm…” Tapping your chin, you pretend to think it over. “No thanks.” You can practically see his blood boiling, even more so when you put a hand on Gojo’s knee.

“You really want to play this game, baby?” Cocking his head to the side, Toji fixes you with an intense look. He’s pissed at how flirtatious you’ve been, but you know he loves it - otherwise there wouldn’t be the slight uptick to his mouth.

You get to take one sip from your drink before it’s taken out of your hand and you’re pulled from the bar stool. Toji has a tight grip on your wrist, almost enough to hurt as he drags you away from the bar.

Pulling you back up the stairs, he takes you to a side hallway and into a room tucked away, quickly locking the door behind him.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, huh?” Toji barks when the door closes, pushing you into the room. It’s a decent sized office with two small plush couches facing each other, an opulent circular coffee table in the middle.

“I was bored, you took too long.” Pouting on one of the couches, you cross your arms under your breasts and push them up, looking away dramatically as Toji sits down next to you with his legs spread wide.

“S’not my fault, baby. Daddy had to take care of some business.” Throwing an arm over the back of the couch, he tugged you closer. “I’m all yours now.”

“Hm.” Still not done with your act, you kept your body turned away from him.

“You really gonna act like a brat right now?” He hums, curling his fingers around your upper arm. “I’d hate to smear that pretty makeup when I start spanking you.” As he speaks, he hauls you over his body, seating your ass right in his lap and giving your thigh a harsh spank. “But maybe you’d like that, huh?”

“Daddy!” Throwing your head back against his shoulder, you whine loudly, rubbing your ass into him. “You promised not to do that anymore!”

“Yeah and you promised to be a good girl.” Tilting his head to the side, Toji smirked at you. “Seems you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, quickly moving to straddle his lap. Spreading your legs wide, your dress rides up, revealing the special thong you’d worn to go with this dress. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you give Toji a quick peck.

He chuckles against your lips, hands sliding down your back to grab your ass firmly, holding you tightly against him. His fingers dig into your flesh, grazing the fabric of the thong and hooking it under his fingers.

“You know I love it when you wear this.” Toji hums, toying with the fabric. You giggle coyly, kissing his jaw and wiggling your hips in his hands. A low growl comes from his chest as Toji descends onto you, latching his lips onto your neck and kissing you roughly.

“Daddy!” Your fingers tug at his hair as his teeth sink into your neck. You moan loudly, tugging his hair again when he smacks your ass.

“Fucking brat.” He snarls, licking the teeth marks he’d left in you and smacking you again. “Love to get me all riled up huh?” Grinding you on his lap, Toji trails kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

Moaning in his ear, you nod drunkenly. Your fingers fumble to grab the collar of his shirt and unbutton it, eager to feel his skin underneath. Just as you get one button undone, Toji snatches your hands away.

“Who said you get to touch me?”

“Please, daddy.” You pout, trying in vain to get your hands free. “Wanna feel you so bad.”

“What about that chump at the bar? You seemed pretty happy touching him.”

“No, I don’t want him, I want you!” Bouncing on his lap, the alcohol was clouding your senses, making you way more desperate way faster than normal. “Just wanted you to pay attention to me.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” Toji chuckles, letting your hands go and helping you unbutton his shirt. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, your hands greedily felt up his body, diving down to give a few kisses to his neck and chest.

“Love you daddy.” Your words are slurred, fingers already dipping down to his lower stomach.

“Fuck yeah you do.” He shivered, pushing you away slightly and digging in his pocket. “Bet you’ll love me even more with this.” In his fingers is a small baggie of white powder that you’re all too familiar with. Dipping his finger into it, Toji holds it under your nose and you sniff it up obediently.

“Thank you daddy.” As the drug begins to take effect, you smile stupid at Toji, dragging your nail across the edge of his lip and along his scar.

“Don’t ever say your daddy ain’t spoiling you rotten.” Taking a hit for himself, Toji throws his head and back and grunts, rocking you in his lap. “Completely fucking rotten.”

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

598 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #lumosinlove #gossipgirl!au #wolfstar #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #hazelverse #harry potter #Harry Potter au

129 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Hot Springs [Din Djarin x Reader] SMUT

SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2, EPISODE 2. [CHAPTER 10].

Summary: when The Mandalorian crashes his ship into a barely habitable and unfamiliar ice cold planet, he has to spend time on repairs. Little does he know, his bounty (you), has sauntered off into the depths of the crystallic cave, finding a hot spring to lounge in. When he discovers you pleasuring yourself amongst the thermal blue waters, he just can’t keep his hands of you.

Warnings: SMUT (duh...) m receiving oral, p in v, lots of touching and affection.

Word count: 3k

Rating: 18+ only

Authors Note: The devil works hard but I work harder. Chapter 10 was literally released three hours ago and I’ve already knocked this up. The scene with the hot springs gave me ~thoughts~ and well, I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLISIT | Submit a request!

The Mandalorian was just about finished the repairs on his ship when the cooing of his child interrupted him. He put down the soldering iron, and turned to face the little green bean who was knee deep in fluffy white snow. After a few beats of silence, the child let out an incoherent garble and Din sighed. "Are you going to just stand there, or do you want to make yourself useful?" he quizzed, gesturing towards the Razor Crest. The child blinked momentarily and Din let out another huff of annoyance before returning back to solder together some pieces of wire

The child's next garble came only a few moments later and when Din turned around, he noticed that his son was gone. Din dropped the iron once more and raised to his feet, walking around the perimeter of the Crest until he saw the child again. The child turned to his father, babbling and pointing his finger. When Din followed the directions of the child's small claw, he realised that his son had been trying to alert him of something. Din flicked the tracking switch on his visor which highlighted the footprints through the snow.

"She's gone?" he questioned himself out loud. "Wait here." he told the Child, who slumped down in the snow and began to roll snowballs with his small hands.

Din followed your footprints through the depths of the ice cold caves until finally he found you. There you were, lounging naked in what could only be described as a pool of steaming tranquil water. It was a vibrant blue colour, comparable to the beautiful lakes of Naboo or rivers of Alderaan.

"I told you to wait by the ship." The Mandalorian's voice was low and dark through his modulator. There was something sultry about it. If you weren't engulfed in warm water, you might have sworn his voice alone could do things to you that no other man has ever.

You took in his broad stature. Tall, wide shoulders, and covered in the most pristine Beskar armour. And he was just standing there, watching you.

"Just about all ice planets have hot springs," you informed the Mandalorian, dodging his statement only slightly. "They're almost always in crystalline caves, just like this one. They're heated by underground volcanic activity. I know what you're thinking— volcanoes on an ice planet? But trust me. Legends says they have healing powers and well, I believe them. The natural oils that these thermal waters possess make my skin so smooth." you drew out, kicking your leg out the water and rubbing your hand along your calf and up your thigh, humming in delight at the touch.

"Stars." Din gritted out as he watched you touch yourself. You noticed upon his entrance to the springs, he had completely stiffened up, not moving an inch. His eyes were locked on you. But you didn't mind. In fact, you kind of liked the attention from a Mandalorian. "So you knew about the hot springs here?"

"I knew there'd be hot springs, sure," you shrugged, continuing to drag the warm thick blue water over your skin. The oils in it made it slippery but all the more appealing to the Mandalorian. He shuffled in his boots slightly, dragging them across the thick snow beneath him. "I got bored waiting on the ship. Not much to do for entertainment."

The Mandalorian scoffed, but he couldn't exactly argue with you. "You could've put yourself in danger." he muttered, looking around. Your eyes followed his.

"Do you see anything?" you prompted him. "No? Exactly. It's safe here, I promise." After a long beat of silence, you took a deep breath and inhaled the fragranced air around you. "Join me." you murmured.

The Mandalorian was taken aback, but your offer became harder to refuse by the second. Maker, his cock was throbbing now, constricted and feeling tight under his pants and armour. He tilted his head slightly and watched as you let your hands grace your body and squeeze your own breasts. You knew exactly how to lure him in. You gently closed your eyes at the sensation, a sweet moan escaping your lips.

Of course, the opaqueness of the turquoise water left very little visible to the Mandalorian's eye but judging from the way you were positioned and the slight slushing sound of the water, he knew you were touching himself.

The Mandalorian wanted to hear that moan again. If that sound was the noise you made when you touched yourself, then he wanted to hear the noises you could make when he touched you.

You were utterly a sight to behold. He wanted to engrain the image of you, lounging in the hot springs, for the rest of his life.

The thought of you pleasuring yourself in front of him created a fire in his stomach. He felt his already hard cock twitching at the sight of you. Your hair wasn't completely wet, but damp from the condensation in the air, sticking slightly to your skin. Pearls of sweat beaded across your hairline and as he trailed his vision down, he noticed the way it glossed over your collarbones— defining them.

"If I join you," the Mandalorian gulped. "I might not be able to control myself." he warned, a strong level of sterness in his voice.

You bit your lip and extended your arms, propping yourself up in the tub so he could see the way you spread yourself out for him. "Consider this an invitation." you gazed up towards him, fluttering your eyelashes which framed your doe-like eyes.

The Mandalorian discarded his armour one by one, the Beskar of his chest plate and knee pads clanking as he dropped them to the rocky ground beneath him. As he undressed himself, he didn't take his eyes from you, and so, you decided to give him a little show to watch.

You hopped up on to the side of the tub, exposing your naked body. You even heard Din's breathing hitch when he took sight of you. You crossed your legs over, not wanting to show him too much yet, but dropped your head back and your breasts together. The sudden coldness in the air hardened your nipples and made them sensitive as you ran the pad of your thumb over the little bud, pinching it now and again. You dipped your hands back in the water and gently let the warm, oily water drip down your body. Din watched, completely enthralled as droplets dripped down the curve of your breasts and pooled in your belly button. He wanted to spread you out— take you now. Fuck you fast and hard in the snow if he could.

But there was something so delicate about the way you performed for him. The way you gently touched yourself and your whimpers which echoed throughout the crystallised caves. It struck something inside of him. He wanted to take it slow, touch every part of you like it had never been touched before. Grace his finger along every edge and dip of your body.

It wasn't long until the Mandalorian had stripped completely down, his clothing pooled on the floor amongst yourd. You let out a small gasp as you took in his manhood which was hard and pressed against his tummy. Dark brown hair trailed from his belly button down to his crotch and you swallowed a lump in your throat that you didn't realise you were holding. You knew he couldn't take his helmet off, but seeing the colour of his hair on another part of his body awakened a primal feeling inside of you.

He stood there, awkwardly, almost like he was awaiting your instruction. His hand dropped to his cock and he began to rub his length slowly, up and down. It was in that moment you got an eyeful of the precum that was beading at the dark pink tip. Oh Maker…. he was desperate for you.

"Come here." you gestured with a finger that beckoned him to walk around the steaming hot tub. Still jerking himself, he walked to the edge of the tub where you were sitting and you continued to swirl your feet into the water.

When he stood before you, you took his hand and gently removed it from his cock. The loss of Din's grip made his cock bounce forward. You looked down at it, taking in the sight of all the bumps and veins and licked your lips at the thought of how he would feel inside of you. He was big, you knew he'd stretch you out, but you had hope in the oils from the springs that maybe they'd lubricate you before that time came. "I want to taste you, is that alright?" you asked, dipping your hand into the warm water and taking it back out before rubbing his length.

"Y-yes," he stuttered, jerking his hips deeper into your first. You tutted and slowly shook your head at his lack of patience. The oils from the thermal water had made your hands slick and wet.

You rolled your hand to the bottom of his girth and cupped his balls before skillfully swirling your tongue over his pink tip, earning a groan from him. Your lips curved into a smirk as you continued with the kitten licks, savouring every drop of precum that he had created. You wanted to be vocal for him, making sure you moaned when his salty seed hit your tongue. Licking your lips, making sure you could devour every last drop. "Tastes so good," you cooed before taking his full length in your mouth and bopping your head.

On impulse, Din grabbed a fist full of your hair, holding your head in place as you took him as far as you could. With his remaining length, you lifted your hand and began to pump him. You slowly drew back from his cock, a line of your saliva mixer with his precum drawn from the tip of his cock to your swollen lips.

"What are you doing?" Din growled, pushing your head back on his cock.

"Cmon, I know you want to fuck my mouth. I see the way you jerk your hips. And I want it too. Fuck my mouth, Mando," you commanded, reaching up and pressing a hand along his v-line.

You parted your lips only slightly, but enough for the Mandalorian to push his length inside of you. You immediately found yourself hollowing your cheeks as he began to fuck your mouth, illicitng curses in what you could only assume to be Mando’a. You grabbed onto his hips, fingernails pinching into his ass as he thrusted inside of you. "S-such a good mouth for me," he praised. "Good girl. Take me so well." It wasn't long before you felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you drew back, not wanting him to cum just yet.

"Join me in the water," you pleaded, hopping back into the tub and letting the wetness engulf you. The Mandalorian sat on the edge of the tub and carefully slipped in, the water rising to his chest. He shuddered at the heat and you couldn't help but smile. "You like it?" you asked him, and he nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah, haven't felt anything this nice since- since-" The Mandalorian couldn't finish his sentence because you were already dragging him through the water and on top of you.

Once again, you leaned against the side of the tub and brought the Mandalorian warrior in between your legs. You hooked your legs around his waist and the water pushed his cock against your wet folds, a soft moan escaping your lips. Liking what he could hear, the Mandalorian teasingly rolled his cock over your clit, and your fingers dug into his back.

You didn't think it was possible, but somehow you managed to get closer to him. You pressed your breasts up against his chest and rested your chin the crook of his neck. He pushed the hair out of your face, revelling in your beauty.

In one swift motion, he pushed himself inside of you, desperate for some kind of release. You screamed, fingers digging into his tan skin. His back was strong and muscular and he held himself there, inside of you, warming his cock. You traced his back, enthralled in the way he was using his upper body strength to hold you up against the side of the tub.

"Move." you begged, pressing your lips into his shoulder blade. The Mandalorian groaned at your soft kisses. He hadn't felt such affection from anyone before. His hips moved slightly but his cock still filled inside of you, throbbing as your walls contracted around him. You bit down on his skin at the sensation. You loved how long and thick he was. You loved the way he filled you up. "Move." you repeated, but this time it was a cry of desperation.

The Mandalorian obeyed your order, slowly and somehow pushing himself deeper inside you. His cock curved and hit your sweet spot with every thrust. Fuck, he was good. You whined, rolling your hips and meeting his every thrust.

"Stars, you're so tight," he cursed and you clenched around him once more. He was certain you'd milk him from his seed shortly.

"Mando, you don't have to be gentle. I need you to fuck me hard and fuck me fast." You whispered, your breath tingling his skin. He wasn't going to say no to that.

The Mandalorian increased his speed, and his thrusts became more erratic. As the oils of the thermal waters seeped into your cunt his actions became sloppier and he had to clutch onto you like he was afraid you'd break beneath him. The waters of the hot springs rolled over the edges of the tub and splashing noises, as well as your moans and his grunts echoed throughout the caves.

"I'm close," he warned. "Fuck. Your cunt is so soft. Ngh- feels so good around me."

"Mando," you wailed, your hands wrapped around his helmet for support as he continued to messily thrust into you. He lowered one hand under the water and found the bud of your clit, rubbing at it as he continued to fuck you. "Shit, don't stop that. I'm gonna cum."

"Yes baby," The Mandalorian growled. "Cum for me like a good girl."

The words spurred you off and you dropped your head back, your entire body shaking as he fucked you through your climax. Your walls clenched around his cock and he started twitching inside you. "Fuck!" he cried out, holding you by the shoulders.

"I'm safe," you gasped, as he continued to thrust deeper into you. "Please cum inside of me. Please."

"You take my cock so fucking good." He praised, his modulated voice echoing through the cave as his hips snapped into yours. His hands drop as he holds your lower back and the pressure feels sharp. He's rough, he's hard just like you had requested of him. You could feel every edge and vein of him as he slammed inside of you, groaning out your name with each savage thrust.

Before long, Din spills inside of you. And he was containing a load. You feel his sticky heat rope your and coat your walls as you yelp in pleasure. He stays inside of you, letting the cum bury deep within you before he softens and gently pulls out. You whine at the loss of his fullness, your eyes fluttering shut as he doubles back.

Both of you are a heaving panting mess, standing before each other in the hot springs. Your legs felt shaky, like he just fucked every last beam of life out of you. You grabbed onto the edge of the tub and pulled yourself up, letting the cool air dry your body.

The Mandalorian took another good look of your body and he felt himself get hard again. Fuck, no credits could amount to that experience. There was no way he could return you now. You were his to keep.

Permanent taglist:

@goth-topic @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal icons #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal smut #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #star wars #star wars smut

897 notes · View notes

bxllafanficc · 3 years

Text

Lady of mischief- Part five

Pairing: Loki x Greek!goddess f!reader

Summary: Asgard is having a change of power so there are several events Loki has to get right before he can announce victory against his brother as the next king. But one lady’s approval will change the whole outcome if the stakes are right. That lady is you, intended heir to the throne of Olympus but tied down to a marriage of convenience with one of the princes of Asgard. The prince you choose to marry will be the next king but you refuse to let yourself be a pawn in this game for power. Loki, with his intentions to take you as his queen has far greater reason to marry you than just for the reason of being king. You however, would rather cut off your left arm than exposing yourself for the fact that there’s another purpose besides Loki getting a throne to sit on.

One week later and you found yourself at a sea cliff on Asgard’s largest known bay. You’d brought Henna with you, just like every other day since you got officially banished. Now you couldn’t stand being in the castle and spent almost every waking hour in the city, avoiding the royal family at all cost. Odin even demanded you ate breakfast with them since you were an honored guest but of course you never showed.

Zeus left the day after the banquet and not a word from your parents. They probably didn’t even blink the second he told them their daughter had been locked in with an entire castle of self-centered gods.

“Gods are assholes!” You threw a rock at the size of a basketball into the water and glared at the splash, secretly hoping your father Poseidon would sense it and feel guilt. That was impossible, of course. A Greek god holds no power at the realm of Norse gods.

“My lady, you’re a god.” Henna stayed seated at a comfy rock she found the first day coming to the cliff. She said it was the perfect fit for her to relax her always perfect posture without sloping. You always told her you don’t care if she sloped at non-formal occasions.

“Yes, Henna. Me included.” You were just surprised she didn’t faint because you used such a mundane word, a thing you picked up from the humans on a visit once.

“I can’t stop thinking about what I said to the prince. It was a decade ago, yes, but he still remembers it. Probably thinks about it every time he sees me!” You tried to concentrate on the real reason you were here. To practice. You’d never win anyone’s respect if you couldn’t control your powers. You started with the hardest, the sea; a force that doesn’t want to be tamed.

A pulsing body of water drove up from the sea and flew in front of you. The goal was to force it into a perfect shaped globe, forcing the sea to obey so thoroughly. To your luck the liquid started obeying your wish when you put all your concentration to use. Almost a solid globe. You’d only need a few more seconds to-

“And I’ve already said you should apologize to him. Who knows, you two might hug it out and the next thing you know you wake up naked in his chambers the next day.”

The almost globe burst into millions of droplets and salt burned in your eyes at the shock. Your vision blurred out and you coughed on the water that went down your airways. Heat went to your cheeks and you looked down at your soaked clothes.

“Goodness, Henna! You’ve spent too much time with the Asgardian maids.

You can’t say stuff like that!” Your voice was still faint from the couching as you scolded her. You had to put your focus to use once again to extract the water into fine droplets hanging midair in front of you. The dress was far too pretty to get stained with saltwater. The jewelry looked surreal in the light the dress radiated. Every thread of the fabric seemed to be created of pure shining starlight or liquid diamond. The dress held the beauty of a thousand stars.

No one knew where it appeared from, however. You had your own guess, of course. It laid neatly folded on your work desk one afternoon and if it was the first born prince, he would’ve left some grand note with it as well. The dress just laid there in absence of anyone claiming the rights. An apology for sure.

“Well, you said asshole if I’m not mistaken.” There it was. Henna cleared her throat as a sign to drop the subject but you knew she had a big smirk on her lips. You didn’t want to turn around to confirm it.

“Let’s try again, my lady. Why don’t you try claiming the entire wave coming right there?”

You analyzed the wave and realized what Henna was asking. The size of it was huge and it would surely crash into the cliff side underneath you. Your job was to stop that impact and lift it up to your level.

It was dead silent as you waited for the wave to arrive. With a last big engaging try you felt the power of the sea surging through you. Blocking the impact of the wave lashing itself forwards was similar feeling to getting that same wave right in the face like a wall of bricks. But it was not in vain. The water started to rise to the cliff you stood on and you had to replace your feet for a better stance. Every second the sea threatened to leash out of your hold.

“How mighty.” A soothing voice, yet laced with viciousness, appeared only a hot breath away from your ear and you screamed.

The scent of new books hit you too late and the wave had already been unleashed on the threat behind you. The water had devided around your frame, covering Henna and Loki from head to toe in seawater without showing mercy. The sea held no mercy. Right…

A moment of silence and Loki still had his eyes tightly shut, his entire body frozen in place. He’d been less than an inch from you and you hadn’t noticed. He was still less than an inch from your bodies touching.

He slowly went to wipe one of his eyes clean of water and tasted the layer of salt glancing his lips. You cursed yourself for noticing the shameful way his tongue swiped across his bottom lip. Did he take the warm weather with him somehow or why was it suddenly growing hot again? And why did he look so different with the drenched clothes hugging his frame, hair slicked back. The dripping from the each strand fell and caressed the heavy outline of his collarbones.

What were you even thinking about. He must’ve done something. A spell of some sort.

“That was unnecessary.” He said it as simple as ever and it made you grit your teeth.

Stop staring at his abs, dammit!, you thought.

It had to be a spell. This couldn’t be real.

“Why are you here?” You weren’t prepared for this. He was supposed to be on a mandatory meeting right now. Did he just right up ditch that?

“You’re no fun… I came with a proposition.”

“Of what sorts?” You eyed him with careful detail, trying to sense a trick of some sort. His gaze lingered on your appearance a little too long from what seemed appropriate. It was a thorough scan up and down and the soul behind the eyes held a strange glow. Of course he was shocked you wore the dress he bought.

“We can teach each other things. You tell me stories and history of the Ancient Greece, your kind’s gracious era and I teach you illusion magic.” He could tell your raised eyebrow was a sense of confusion. “Like, combining water and light into something entirely new. I’ll teach you how to conjure spells-“

“Like the one you’re doing now?” It just slipped out of you and it was too late to ignore. It was now his turn to look confused. The tip of his tongue came out once again to wipe off some salt and you looked away.

“What?” He asked.

“Whaaat?” You repeated along with a dumb giggle you had no idea where it came from. The already tight fabric of Loki’s shirt was riding up from the wet fabric rolling itself up. You really did try not to think about how the pearls of droplets looked like glitter in the sun on his toned stomach, but realized that you already failed. You swallowed a hot lump of dryness that caught in your throat.

So no spell then?

Loki sighed and cracked a tense muscle in his neck, a green light drying him and his clothes from bottom and up in a matter of a second (Henna remained drenched).

“Just say no quickly, there’s no reason to drag it out. I’ll leave you be when you’ve answered.” You bit your bottom lip and actually took a moment to think about it.

“Actually, it doesn’t sound too awful. But don’t you already know everything about my realm there is to know?” That earned a genuine smile from him and you thought about how that was a rare sight.

“You’d be surprised of how understocked Asgard’s library is when it comes to your history, your highness.”

“And stop calling me that! It’s weird. You never did it before so why do it now?”

“I thought you disliked me being informal.”

“Oh do shut up!”

Loki laughed and nodded in agreement. It was just then you realized how you were still inappropriately close to him and how his breath smelled of something sweet. Something brushed past your hand and Loki retracted his own with a flinch and an apologetic look.

“I’m s-“ Loki started but Henna’s loud cough and pointed glare.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“I don’t… I don’t find you disgusting.” You watched his expression and expected him to get upset but nothing in his body language seemed tense. If anything, his jaw and shoulders seemingly dropped.

“That’s like the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” His chuckle was bright but your gut still twisted in shame.

“No but like, I don’t find your touch disgusting. I never did, actually-“ The amount of truth you entrusted this man with was almost too much. The words were so tense on the way out that you started coughing.

“Then why did you-“

“I don’t know! No more questions though. All I know is that it was far from unpleasant and that’s all you need to know for now.” Loki raised his eyebrow, lips slightly parted. You understood you’d talked before your brain caught up with you again.

“No, that came out wrong. But you know what I mean!” Your hands fiddled on the edges of the dress, only to flatten out the fabric right after. The dry lump just couldn’t seem to go down.

“Oh I sure do… And I agree with you on how we speak to each other. I hate speaking to you formally! It doesn’t sit right for me especially. Then I wouldn’t be able to say the stuff I actually want.”

“Like what?” You regretted asking immediately but couldn’t bring yourself to step back as he leaned in.

Lips brushed against your earlobe and his scent was all up in your world, along with the surreal warmth that always seemed to follow him.

“That dress looks absolutely ravishing on you, (Y/n). I never thought you’d wear it to be honest. We’re you really planning on fleeing the castle on such an occasion and not letting me see any of the beauty?” His voice turned low again and the always present rasp seemed extra present today.

The dry lump finally went down.

“You could’ve gifted it to someone else if you wanted to see the dress on an actual body instead of a hanger.”

A low rumbling came from his chest and erupted in his throat. It took you a moment to realize that the sound was a chuckle.

“See, I don’t think that’s true. Yes, any person could wear it, but I can’t think of anyone else who could wear one of the most beautiful things crafted ever and the most beautiful thing in the room would still remain the person in it.”

You couldn’t move your body. It was frozen in place even though the blood in your veins was literally boiling. You were almost thankful that he was so close. That way he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Why would I lie about it? Meet me in the library tomorrow after breakfast. I look forward to our time together.”

(A/N: Hi! Don’t hesitate to comment on each chapter what you thought about it/if you liked it since that keeps me motivated to keep writing. Also reblog so my story reaches a wider audience, if you really liked it! Your support is much appreciated. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series. Have a good day, lovelies!)

Find the other parts in my MASTERLIST

Tag list: @liffydaze

@queen-of-mischief

@girl-obsessed-with-things

@obsessivelysearching

@reverse-iak

@perpetually-exhausted-and-tired

61 notes · View notes

colormeyondublue · 2 years

Text

Chapter 16: Movie Night

Chapter 15 Here

Your eyes open the next morning, and you find yourself in a daze. Once your vision clears, you sit up straight. You’re in your room. You look around, and you can see sunlight drifting through the blinds in the window. Everything looks normal, but where’s Yondu? Yondu. You begin to panic a little bit. You look down to see a tank top and a pair of your old athletic shorts. No. Is my mind trying to fuck with me? Those three years did happen. I lost everything, but I gained so much. Yondu, where the hell is Yondu. I did not make him up. I did not make up the Ravagers. I was taken. You begin to breathe a little bit heavier. Just then, your door creeps open. It’s your mom.

“Hey sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Can I get you anything? Where’s your friend? Uh – boyfriend?”

“You mean Yondu?”

“Yes, right. Yondu.”

“Oh thank God! For a moment I thought I had fallen into a coma and the past three years was some insane fever dream. I’m not sure where he went, I just woke up. Bathroom maybe? I’ll go look.”

You make your way down the hall to the bathroom, but don’t see a light on. You push the door open, and see no one. Then you decide that maybe he went downstairs to raid the fridge. You hurry down the stairs and head toward the kitchen when you see a blue figure standing on the back porch. You let out a breath you’ve been holding and smile. I knew I couldn’t have dreamt up someone like him. He’s still wearing the pajamas you gave him last night. A simple white t-shirt and flannel pants. You decide to grab your robe and join him outside.

“’Mornin’ sweetheart.” He says with a big smile. You softly kiss him and look out across the hills behind your house.

“How long have you been out here?” you ask.

“Mmmm… couple hours maybe? Weather sure feels nice, and I wanted to see what your house looked like in the day time. Seen some more critters too.”

“I would be worried if we lived in a neighborhood. Thank the stars we don’t.” You huff out a laugh. I’m gonna head inside and help mom with breakfast, you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry. Never had terran food b’fore.”

“I promise you’ll like it. I’ve seen you eat some really questionable things on the Eclector – what we eat here shouldn’t be a problem for you.” You say with a hint of sarcasm.

“Sounds good ta me. Lead the way honey.”

You start a pot of coffee and your mom puts the kettle on in case anyone wants tea. You turn on the tv for Yondu, and show him which buttons are important on the remote before you leave him to his own devices. When breakfast is about ready, you return to the living room and are surprised to find Yondu in the armchair watching Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. His eyes are glued to the tv.

Chuckling to yourself, you tell Yondu that breakfast is ready.

“Hey, do you want to come pick some stuff out, or should I make you a plate?” You ask.

Without his eyes moving an inch, he asks you about the movie. Clearly dumbfounded.

“What is this? What am I looking at right now?”

“It’s a movie about Pirates…terran pirates. But it’s totally fictional. I mean, stuff like that did happen a couple hundred years ago, but there are no such things as curses or walking skeleton people.” You laugh.

“I like it. I like it a lot. It almost reminds me of some ‘a the boys back on the ship. This is what ya’ll watch for entertainment?”

“Some people do, yeah. There are all kinds of movies and TV shows. Some are made for entertainment and others are made for education. We can watch more later if you want? The possibilities are endless when it comes to this stuff. You keep watching your movie, Captain, and I’ll go get you a plate.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip when you turn away. Yondu breaks his gaze from the tv just long enough to give your ass a playful smack as you’re heading back to the kitchen, earning himself a squeal and plenty of giggling.

After breakfast, you give Yondu a proper tour of the house. You showed him all of the rooms and all of the places in the house that are special to you. Story upon story comes flowing out, and your brain jumps from memory to memory. He just watches you ramble and it dawn on him that terrans get so attached to things. Things that have both good and bad memories. He wonders if you have these kinds of attachments to the Eclector…or maybe to him? He does his best to ask a question or two, but he prefers to let you get lost in thought. He hasn’t quite seen you this open or vulnerable, but he really likes it. Your planet is beginning to open new windows into who you are.

The afternoon floats by peacefully. After a walk through the woods and a late lunch you decide to come back inside to relax the evening away. You hop in the shower and then show Yondu how it works when you're done. When you’re both comfortable you head back downstairs and let Yondu look at what movies your mom has. He can’t really read the titles, so he goes off what the cover looks like. You head to the kitchen to make some chocolate-peanut butter popcorn.

“What’s this?” Yondu asks as he picks up a couple pieces.

“It’s really good. We used to make it as kids. Give it a try.”

Your hand flies up to Yondu’s mouth just before he pops a few pieces into his mouth.

“What?” He eyes you suspiciously.

“This has peanuts in it. If you start to feel weird or puffy, TELL ME. Okay?”

“Are peanuts poison or somethin’?!” He exclaims.

“No, no, no…but some terrans are allergic to them. Just wanna play it safe is all.” You chuckle.

“Oh…well alright.” He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t know what a peanut is, but this stuff is damn good!”

“See?! Told ya.”

Yondu shows you what movie he chose for the night, and you couldn’t be happier with his decision.

You pop the movie into the DVD player and giggle excitedly as you snuggle up with him on the couch. Your mom has already gone to bed, and you have the living room to yourselves.

“Honestly, I cannot believe you picked Star Wars, but I could not be more thrilled with your choice. I hope you like it. You already know, humans don’t know much about life outside our solar system. As far as my people are concerned, no one else is out there. So, that being said, we sort of came up with some of our own ideas as to what could be out there. This is totally fictional, so don’t get upset if none of this is as accurate as you would like it to be. Because it won’t be.” You say with a smile.

As the movie begins, Yondu seems to be paying very close attention. He loves the music, and doesn’t mind the dialogue too much.

“The clothes ain’t bad…but I sure as hell wouldn’t wear that travelin’. Come ta think of it, I wouldn’t wear that at all!”

You giggle at each of his comments, and enjoy yourself through the movie more than you thought you would.

“So – lemme get this straight. Them ‘Jedi’ of sorts are supposed ta be able ta move things with their minds?” He asks.

“Yes, it’s called the force. There’s more to it than that, but yes. The Jedi live by a certain code, like Ravagers do. They are trained by other Jedi masters to use the force for good and their weapon of choice is the light saber. See? Luke has a blue one.”

“Hmm…I do like this Hans Solo guy. He’s got the right idea on how ta handle things.”

After a few more comments on Yoda looking weird, Chewy resembling somebody he beat up in a bar once, the Death Star being a stupid engineering idea, and how horrible those blasters are, the movie ends.

“Hey, it’s pretty late. I think I’m gonna head to bed. Want to come with?” You ask.

“Yeah, sure honey. I’m gonna step out and give Krags a call and I’ll meet ya upstairs.” He kisses your forehead and squeezes your butt as you head upstairs.

"Would you leave my ass alone?!" You laugh.

"Can't do it sugar, can't do it." Yondu flashes you a devilish smile as you disappear from sight.

He quietly steps out the back sliding door to make his call. Krags picks up almost instantly. “Yessir, howsit goin’ down on Terra?”

“Not too bad. Learnin’ a lot, her momma seems ta like me…I think. As far as I know we plan on staying a couple weeks as long as nothin’ changes on either end. How is everything goin’ with you?”

“Had a little disagreement among the men on some M-ship maintenance, but it wasn’t nothin’ I couldn’t get sorted. Keepin’ an eye on radar too. Wanna make sure them terrans don’t pick up nothin’ from us. The last thing we need is Nova Prime breathin’ down our necks.” Kraglin sighs.

“Yeah…yer right. Ain’t given them much thought lately. Thanks fer keepin’ everything together Krags.”

“No problem, sir. Let me know if there is anything else I can do fer ya.”

“Will do.”

With that, the comm cuts out.

#Yondu and The Secretary #Yondu Udonta #yondu x reader #marvel #gotg #gotgfanfic #ravager #Terra #Earth #movienight

28 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other.

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon.

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand.

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend.

“ I’m fine. “

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead.

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “

“ ‘s not that bad. “

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book.

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement.

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit.

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in.

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face.

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “

“ Huh? “

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear.

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief.

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle.

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Not really. “

“ Ah, what a shame.”

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.”

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.”

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.”

“ Huh. “

“ Mmmh.”

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “

“ Are you ?”

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky.

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “

“ Ran where? “

“ Away. “

“ Away as in you left. “

“ Mm-mmh”

“ Just like that? “

“ Yup. “

“ Why? “

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place.

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.”

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?”

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy.

“ I have no idea what you just said. “

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning.

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing.

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “

“ We are? “

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “

“ I don’t even know you. “

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back. “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness.

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “

“ Perfect, Bucky. “

“ Bring a jacket. “

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing.

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries.

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar.

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook.

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly.

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can.

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue.

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen.

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?”

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around.

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice.

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people.

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles.

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back.

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns.

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while.

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen.

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile.

“ So, what did we learn today? “

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment.

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others.

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “

“ That’s literally what happened. “

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.”

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “

“ Alright. Noted. “

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “

“ Hmm? “

“ The one you went on a date with? “

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.”

“ Why not? “

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.”

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.”

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “

“ Swing. “

“ You swing dance? “

“ I did. “

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in.

“ You twirled me! “

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that.

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk.

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “

“ Yup. “

“ Hey, Bucky.”

“ What? “

“ You really can dance.”

“ Told you. “

“ Can I tell you a secret? “

“ Sure. “

“ I can’t dance for shit. “

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “

“ Absolutely not.”

“ Oh, 100%! “

“ We’ll see about that.”

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now.

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “

“ Alright, if you say so. “

“ Thanks for walking me home. “

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night.

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “

“ Can’t wait. “

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye?

“ I uh — I should go. “

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.”

“ You too, (Y/N).”

“ Oh and Bucky? “

“ Yes? “

“ Give Leah a call. “

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

227 notes · View notes

spicymayo1983 · 3 years

Text

Hiya. If you haven't yet seen the 2013 erotic thriller In Secret starring Elizabeth Olsen, Oscar Isaac and Jessica Lange I highly recommend it. I've watched it twice in the past month. Lol.

Oscar's character Laurent Leclaire is so sensual, so devious that I decided to write a short, filthy little fanfic starring you, the reader, and him.

Laurent is sexy evil personified, sigh.

The setting is 1860's Paris. The story takes place before Laurent meets Elizabeth Olsen's character Therese. You are a young (nothing illegal, you are 19) virgin artists model that gets seduced and absolutely ravished by the dominant, more worldly Laurent one evening in his studio when you are posing for him.

Warnings, female receiving oral sex, dominance, frank descriptions of painful virginity loss, rough sex, language, not for anyone under 18. Just pure, gratuitous, thirsty smut. Lol.

But it's set in the Victorian Era so that makes it classy? Lmao.

Touch and taste

Things started out fairly innocent enough. You met him at your older sister's dinner party one evening.

He is a friend of your sister's husband, they went to school together.

Your sister is much more outgoing than you and at 19 you are still unmarried, having never even held hands with a man before.

You live with your sister and brother in law in an old but tidy home in Paris. You are middle class and the home is well decorated and furnished. Your sister is expecting her first child and you are looking forward to helping care for the infant.

The two of you have a warm, loving relationship.

Even for the Victorian Era you are painfully shy, your sister had to beg you to come to her party.

There are several single men there and she's trying to find you a suitor, a potential husband.

He was an artist, and his name was Laurent Leclaire.

You sat across from the mysterious, brooding man and as you attempted to make small talk with the other guests you couldn't help but notice from the corner of your eye how he looked at you.

It was like Laurent was studying you, taking in your shy, delicate beauty. When your eyes finally meet he flashes you a devilish little smirk that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your face turns bright red and you immediately look down.

In the glow of the candlelight you can make out his absurdly beautiful chiseled features. His curly hair, dark eyes, and of course that smile. He made you feel things, unfamiliar feelings that terrified you somewhat. You feel a twinge, an ache, coming from somewhere inside of you. Somewhere where good, Christian women don't normally get those feelings

"Oh dear, what's wrong?" Your sister asks, noticing your flush.

"It's nothing". You reply quickly with a nervous giggle.

"Perhaps I've imbibed in too much wine, I'll be fine".

"Oh my it's getting worse!" The older lady sitting next to your sister exclaimed.

You happen to catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror hanging on the wall across from you. Indeed the flush has gotten worse, your pale cheeks are as red as cherries.

"Let's get you upstairs". Your sister insists, helping you get to your feet.

"No I'm fine". You reply, sounding slightly irritated.

"You look terribly unwell". Your sister continues. "Come with me".

You reluctantly follow your sister upstairs to your room. You have to pass the handsome stranger on the way by, and you could have sworn you felt his hand brush yours, and then down the soft velvet of your skirt.

Once upstairs your sister helps you undress. You crawl into your bed and she brings you a cup of warm tea.

"You have a fever". Your sister frets as she lays her hand on your forehead.

"Quit fussing over me I assure you that I'm fine". You reply, smiling a little as you begin work on the embroidery project that was waiting by your bed.

"How am I ever to find a suitor with you making me leave the party early?"

"There's noone suitable there". Your sister replies sharply.

"What about the dark haired gentleman across from us?" You inquire, a slight smile creeping across your face.

"His name is Laurent and he is nothing but trouble". Your sister snaps back. "Stay away from him, I mean it, he will ruin your reputation".

Your sister's harsh words surprise you a bit, but you now have a name, Laurent, and you are also intrigued by your sister's stern warning.

Ruin my reputation? What on earth does that mean? You wonder as you nod off to sleep.

The next morning you are awakened by the familiar smell of food cooking and the sound of men talking. Sleepily you leave your bedroom and step into the hallway.

It's him again. You catch a glimpse of Laurent talking to your brother in law in the foyer. You immediately duck back into your bedroom and hastily get dressed.

You dash down the stairs quickly, brushing past Laurent. You look at him and flash a shy smile, he smiles back warmly.

You enjoy a nice leisurely, breakfast with your sister, brother in law and Laurent. You catch him glancing at you again, your face turns a light shade of pink.

Afterwards Laurent catches you alone in the foyer. You formally introduce yourself, Laurent kisses your hand.

"Your features. They're so classically pretty, like a sculpture". Laurent tells you as a rather seductive smile appears on his handsome face.

"I'd like to, if you wouldn't mind, paint you".

You giggle nervously at his proposition as your face turns pink. Laurent gently touches your flushed cheek,

you look at him and say nervously, "I'll do it".

"Wear that beautiful velvet dress you had on last night, and the pearl earrings too". Laurent replied, looking into your eyes.

The next afternoon you nervously arrive at Laurent's small flat/art studio, which was only a short walk from your own home.

As soon as he opens the door he smiles brightly and takes your hand. He leads you to a small room, where you sit on a chair in front of an easel.

Laurent sits next to you, looks deeply into your eyes and says,

"Tell me more about you, y/n, I like to learn more about my subject before I paint them".

"There isn't much to say really". You reply quickly, your face turning bright red again. "I'm 19, from Paris, I love my sister and brother in law. Both our parents passed years ago."

"You get embarrassed around the opposite sex, don't you?" Laurent pressed, taking your hand in his and stroking it. "You're so innocent like a child, but at the same time I know you're curious".

The man has read you like a book, you gasp a little at his words and start to tremble noticeably. Laurent leans over and kisses you gently on the cheek.

"Can I kiss your beautiful lips?" He continues, his breathing changing a little due to his own arousal.

"I've never done this, kissing". You reply, the heat from the lower part of your body becoming almost unbearable. "You'd have to show me".

"Open your mouth a little bit". Laurent orders, stroking your cheek with his strong hand. "Follow what I do".

He passionately kisses you using his tongue, you're shocked but quickly mime what he is doing. One of his hands drifts to your lap and he starts to stroke the wetness that is hidden by your pantaloons.

"Undress for me, I want to see my beautiful subject, all of you". Laurent orders, not asks.

You are so caught up in the moment, in him, that you obey his commands.

Noone has ever seen you like this, male or female. Well, maybe your sister. Definitely no men. You are trembling a little as you stand before him.

Laurent uses a paintbrush to trace and tease your body, you can see his hard manhood through his trousers.

"Let's go into my bedroom, I want to touch and taste you". He orders.

You go into his bedroom and recline on his bed. Laurent undresses, revealing his lean, muscular body.

His hard cock looks massive, intimidating, you've only seen them in medical journals and you've had no idea that they were this large in person. Perhaps it's just his own personal endowment.

Laurent kneels between your trembling legs and gently spreads them.

"It looks like an orchid, a fragile, pink orchid, it's so beautiful". Laurent tells you as he teasingly massages your intricate folds that are peeking through a thick patch of hair with his fingers.

He leaves you for a moment and grabs a sketch pad, he uses charcoal and quickly sketches your womanhood. When Laurent is done he shows you, you gasp a little and say, "I've never seen this side of myself".

"Can I touch and taste your petals?" Laurent pushes, you can see the desire burning in his eyes.

"Taste? What do you mean?" You ask, innocently having no clue what he means.

"Let me show you". Laurent purrs, leading you back over to his bed. "Tell me where you want my tongue".

You relax on the bed again, you gently spread your legs and he kneels before you and spreads them further.

He touches his tongue on your sensitive bud, causing you to immediately tremble from pleasure.

Laurent begins to suck and lick your frilly inner lips, you moan with delight from the intense sensation that you are feeling spread throughout your body.

What he's doing to you feels so good yet so sinful, and dirty.

Laurent's tongue moves down further, and he hits a barrier, your hymen is still intact and fairly thick, he gives it a gentle little flick with his tongue.

He then buries his face into your hairy mound, taking in your sweet, musky scent, the tip of his nose brushing against your wetness.

Your scent makes him moan from delight, Laurent is showing you just how much he savors and appreciates the female anatomy.

He teasingly strokes your innocence with his finger, being extra careful not to penetrate it or break it.

It's almost like he's in awe and aroused at that little barrier.

"My cock needs you, I need to feel this". Laurent begs, you can see the precum oozing from his hard tip.

"It's for my husband". You reply quickly and nervously.

"Noone cares about that anymore, especially in this city". Laurent tells you with a quick laugh.

You are so worked up and attracted to him that you relent, he spreads your legs again and positions himself on top of you.

Laurent starts to enter you, you gasp and sputter in a mixture of agony and pleasure as he slowly penetrates you, both of you can feel the moment your hymen breaks, spilling a considerable amount of blood on his sheets.

"Does it hurt?" Laurent asks.

"Yes". You reply, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Good". He replies, thrusting into you harder.

With your legs wrapped firmly around his waist Laurent fucks you, hard. The pain quickly turns to pleasure as you become more comfortable with his body.

When he cums he fills you with a fairly large load as he moans and sputters. Afterwards Laurent spreads your legs again, and sticks his tongue deep inside of you, tasting a mixture of your juices.

Your sister is correct. If Satan himself walked the earth his name would be Laurent Leclaire. The man is so virile, so charming and so handsome that even you, the shy, innocent virgin relented to his charms.

Afterwards with his help you get redressed. As he's lacing you into your corset Laurent gently kisses and nuzzles your neck, muttering about how beautiful you are.

You sit with him through the night and he does indeed paint your portrait, as promised.

"You touched my hand and dress when I was walking by at the dinner party, didn't?" You ask, your face turning pink again.

"Of course". He replied, chuckling a little. "I wanted to see if you were as soft and delicate as you looked. Your silken hand felt just like the beautiful fabric of your gown".

"Why the pink background?" You continue, smiling a little.

"The pink represents the blushing of your cheeks". Laurent explains, sounding like every bit the serious artist. "And the colors of your beautiful petals, you are truly a masterpiece of God's creation".

The end

#in secret #laurent leclaire #fanfic #fanfic smut #fanfiction #long post #reader insert #smutty #smut tag #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac

69 notes · View notes