#I’d just like to be myself- but I’m scared that I’m a jerk and selfish- bc I am pretty selfish- I just try to not give into my selfishness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

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Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 6

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 4k Warnings: slow burn, sad feels/angst, canon-typical violence, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining Summary: When Fennec Shand reveals your true identity to the Mandalorian, you do your best to pick up the pieces. Notes: I’m sorry this took me so long!! I rewrote it like six times because I couldn’t get it to feel right. Next chapter should be much faster. Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @oloreaa @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Fuck. Panic coursed through your veins and paralyzed you. Your brain moved infuriatingly slowly as you tried to think of a way to stop the disaster that was unfolding before your eyes.

And yet...despite your fear and despite the fact that this terrifying, high-level bounty hunter had once tracked you, hearing Fennec call you sweetheart made your stomach drop—in a pleasant way, not at all like when Toro had done the same. She was beautiful, strong, mysterious, intimidating. What little you saw of her fighting style confirmed that she was lithe and exacting—catlike in her grace and prowess. A sexy armored bounty hunter.

I have a type.

You shunted that wildly unhelpful train of thought out of your head to refocus on the crisis at hand.

You looked at Mando. “I—”

“What’s she talking about?” he prompted. You couldn’t tell if you were projecting because you felt guilty or if he really did sound a little hurt.

You opened your mouth again to respond, but Fennec beat you to it.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Even in the dark, you could see Fennec’s eyes sparkle in delight as she addressed Mando. “I don’t know how this one stayed off your radar,” she explained. “She was wanted by the Empire for years. Huge bounty... She looks a little different now—check her chest for a scar to make sure, but I’d bet her bounty it’s there.”

Mando had already seen the scar. He knew Fennec was right.

You caught the hungry look on Toro’s face as he drank in everything Fennec was saying. His eyes trailed down your face and landed shamelessly on your chest. You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think up a way to confirm your identity and claim the reward for both you and Fennec. This little fucker.

Fennec looked at you, and you took a step back involuntarily. “You’ve gotten sloppy, baby. There’s been chatter for weeks that you resurfaced on Nevarro. If I hadn’t been pinned down here, I’d have come for you myself.”

Her words felt like ice sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You’d figured that news of your sighting would probably get out, but you had hoped against hope that the blue-haired bounty hunter had been taken out before she’d been able to spread the word.

Mando was silent, fists clenched tightly at his sides, visor glued on Fennec. Pulling yourself together, you grabbed his arm and dragged him a safe distance away.

“I was going to tell you. I’m sorry,” you blurted, once you were out of earshot.

“It’s fine,” he replied stiffly, his gaze trained decidedly to your right.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that even though it was just the two of you, his voice retained its icy, detached quality, all the tender familiarity gone.

“No, it’s not. I should have told you sooner. I-I wanted to—believe me—but I didn’t know if I could trust you. You were—you’ve been worried that I might turn you or the kid in, haven’t you? I was worried that you’d do the same to me if you found out. The longer I spent with you, the more I felt like you wouldn’t, but I had to be completely, totally sure. I couldn’t take the risk. You can understand that, right?”

He said nothing.

“Look—I really want to be able to trust you. I want you to be able to trust me. I just didn’t know where to start. It’s not easy for people like us to trust blindly, you know?” You hated that your voice sounded almost pleading.

Still, he said nothing, a blank beskar wall. The comfortable warmth that had developed—slowly, painstakingly—between you two over the past weeks had dissolved in an instant.

“Mando. Talk to me, please.” You reached out for his arm, but he stepped back. He still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Not now. Not here.”

“But—”

Your heart sank when he turned abruptly and walked back to the others.

You watched as he grabbed Fennec’s arm roughly, hauling her to her feet, and you trailed behind as he lead your party back down to the foot of the cliff. When you reached the bottom, Mando threw Fennec to the ground.

“Uh oh, looks like two of us have to walk,” Fennec taunted, eyeing the lone bike.

Mando jerked his head, motioning you and Toro to follow him.

“Alright, so what is the plan?” Toro asked Mando.

Reluctantly, you refrained from asking him if he could contribute for once instead of letting Mando do literally all the work; instead, you turned to Mando and supplied, “That dewback isn’t far.”

Mando didn’t look at you. To Toro, he said, “I need you to go find it.”

“And leave you here with my bounty and my ride?” Toro asked incredulously. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Mando. I’ll only go if she comes with me, so I have a guarantee that you won’t leave.” Toro gestured toward you.

You and Mando spoke at the same time: “No.”

“Either she comes, or I don’t go.” Toro was obviously pleased with himself for thinking of this plan, a smirk painted on his face.

You shot him a scathing look before turning to Mando to offer, “I’ll go get it alone.”

You’d love to put some distance between you and Toro, between you and Fennec, and honestly even between you and Mando at the moment.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged Toro. “Less work for me.”

You ignored Toro. “I remember vaguely where it was.” You pointed.

Mando pressed a button on the side of his helmet and scanned the horizon, stopping vaguely where you’d pointed. Finally, he trained his visor on you. He looked from you to Toro to where Fennec was seated and to you again, deliberating. You could tell he didn’t want you to go alone, but he also didn’t want to leave you here with Toro and Fennec. “We’ll go together.”

You nodded, knowing you were in no position to complain. Now that your secret was out, it was evident that both Toro and Fennec would capitalize on your value at the first chance. And, even now, when your dishonesty had been revealed to him, Mando still felt compelled to protect you, his generous heart winning out over whatever malice he felt toward you.

A small part of you resented him for that; it didn’t rub you the right way that he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. A larger part of you knew it was exactly why you liked him so much.

It would be convenient if he were a selfish ass. You could convince yourself you didn’t owe him anything, that you’d done nothing wrong. But no.

This is why it’s easier to be alone.

You felt both angry and guilty, an awful combination that manifested in the urge to hit something—a deep yearning to break Toro’s nose flashed through your mind when you caught the smug expression on his face as he looked from you to Mando. He was enjoying the palpable tension that had materialized between you a little too much.

“Watch her,” Mando reminded Toro, gesturing to Fennec. “And don’t let her get near the bike. She’s no good to us dead.”

Without a look or a word to you, he turned and started toward the dewback.

***

You walked in awkward silence, knowing you’d have to be the one to break it, but you delayed the inevitable, admiring the array of stars spread out above you. Mando stomped up and down the swells of sand, staying several paces ahead.

You meandered your way through a storm conflicting emotions: anger at yourself for getting into this situation (rightful), anger at Mando for being infuriatingly honorable (misplaced), guilt that you’d hurt Mando (well-founded), fear about your safety (appropriate), fear that Mando was about to break your heart a little bit (honest), irritation that you were trekking through a damn desert and there was an aggressive amount of sand in your boots (fair but trivial)... and a myriad of others that were too nuanced to unpack.

After deliberating for a long time, you decided to take an offensive position and offer to leave preemptively to save Mando the trouble (and to save yourself from having to hear that from him). You steeled yourself with a deep breath and interrupted the oppressive quietude of the night, jogging for a moment to catch up with him.

“We can go our separate ways when we get back to Mos Eisley. I know I’m too much of a liability to keep around, especially with the kid.”

He turned his head to look at you, the night sky reflected in his visor.

“I have enough credits to get off world some other way.”

“If that’s what you want.”

It killed you a little just how much it wasn’t what you wanted. You were supposed to be totally independent—you’d chosen this life when you joined the Rebel Alliance, knowing that if by some miracle you managed to survive, you’d be hunted for years. The call for your blood wouldn’t—and didn’t—end with the Battle of Endor, especially when Imperial remnants remained strong. And years ago, condemning yourself to this life for a just cause had seemed brave and romantic. Now, here you were, desperate to build a connection with someone else, despite the risk. And you were starting to think that truly being brave would mean accepting that risk.

At what point is it worth giving up ease for happiness, for something more?

You gathered up what nerve you could muster and took a leap.

“It’s not what I want, but I know you feel betrayed. I really am sorry I didn’t tell you—I was planning to, but I was scared. Scared that you’d take advantage of that... scared that you’d take back your offer to stick together. And the longer I waited, the harder it got to come clean.”

“I understand.”

The frostiness of his voice had given way to something a shade softer, but it still hadn’t returned to its former warmth.

You nodded.

As it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else, the disappointment started to settle in, trickling into the hollow of your chest. He understood, but it evidently didn’t change the fact that the fragile trust that had evolved between you was shattered.

Well, fuck.

You suppressed the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you, focusing instead on making a new plan for yourself. There would be time to work through the feelings later, alone. Your thoughts wandered to where you might go next, running through a mental list of options. Nothing sounded appealing.

None of the places that came to mind would be stocked with a shiny, withholding Mandalorian and an ancient green toddler.

You walked for another twenty minutes before Mando spoke again.

“I want to trust you too.”

You stopped. “What?”

He halted too, turning to face you. The dark sky painted his beskar deep shades of liquid indigo, speckled with pinpricks of starlight, that moved as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I wish you... uh... had felt safe enough to tell me that, but I understand why you didn’t.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “Wait. You’re not mad?”

“I haven’t given you any reason to be open with me. And I guessed you were running from something.”

“Oh.”

“The Empire part caught me off guard—but I knew there was something.”

Of course he’d figured it out...that seemed so obvious now. He’d be able to spot that from a mile away. Plus, he knew you. You spent the last month or so learning his tells and quirks, but you hadn’t stopped to think that he was doing the same with you.

He continued: “But the kid and I are also wanted by the Empire. We’d have the same problem even if you weren’t here.”

“True...” You were struggling to recover from the whiplash.

“What are you wanted for?”

“I was an Intelligence Officer in the Alliance.” It had been years since you’d shared this information with anyone, but the words fell from your lips as naturally as if you said them every day, like you’d been ready to tell him all along and your mouth had finally caught up with your heart.

“Yeah, that makes more sense,” he said. “Explains a lot of your skills.”

You scoffed. “Fair.”

Mando cleared his throat and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “But... it’s...uh, nice to not always be alone.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a shrug, a little embarrassed.

Relief washed over you.

You smiled. “For me too.”

“Good,” he agreed, nodding decisively.

“Shit, you really let me think you were furious,” you laughed, feeling infinitely lighter but still trying to wrap your mind around this abrupt turn.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I was... trying to figure some things out.”

You shook your head in exasperation and started walking again, but you froze when he said your real name. You’d known your name would sound good in his voice—everything did—but the way it rumbled and rasped through the modulator was borderline sinful, agonizingly personal.

File that away for later.

You looked back at him, and he cocked his head: “So you’ll stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you agreed, a broad grin on your face.

You both started walking again, and suddenly, trudging through the sandy desert in the middle of the night didn’t seem so bad. The dewback came back into view as you crested another sand dune.

Mando looked over at you. “Din,” he offered. “My name is Din.”

You glanced up at him, surprised. “Din,” you repeated back to him, feeling it out.

Despite the contradictory definition of the word, it suited him. He was the opposite of a cacophony, a man of few words—though to be fair, he did often cause a commotion. But as a name... Din was short, to the point. It evoked a lot of feeling for just three letters, and that felt right.

“I know your real name now. I thought it was only fair that you know mine too, but only use it when it’s just me and you and the kid,” he explained.

Your throat was unexpectedly tight.

You reached over to squeeze his arm at the elbow, where there was a gap in the beskar. He didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” you answered, looking up into his visor.

You hoped he understood that you were thanking him for more than just his name—for his understanding, for his trust, for his protection, for his vulnerability. You couldn’t say that all out loud at the moment, but you hoped he knew.

He dipped his helmet in acknowledgement, and you dropped your hand.

When you finally reached the dewback, Din approached slowly, speaking to it in a calm, lilting voice. It warmed to him slowly, and he grabbed the reins.

He hauled himself up onto its back and then extended a hand down to you. You took it, and he pulled you up easily to sit behind him. You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Is this okay?” You weren’t really sure why you asked this time. Things had shifted between the two of you, so you were compelled to check that the casual contact was still welcome.

He cleared his throat: “Yeah, fine,” he confirmed.

It had been a long time since you’d been physically affectionate with anyone, besides the occasional casual, short-lived tryst. It was nice to wrap your arms around someone familiar and comfortable, someone who knew you.

The dewback started forward. Din directed it back toward the cliffs with the reins in his fist. It wasn’t a huge distance, but the dewback was a slow means of transportation.

You had little idea what all this meant for your daily reality with Din. You had both shared that you wanted companionship, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was interested in anything more than that. However, for you at least, this was undeniably no longer a superficial interest that you harbored; you had real affection for him. And it seemed like he maybe was starting to feel same way about you? Or maybe he was just getting comfortable with having companionship? The man was starved for human interaction, so it was hard to know if he was warming up to you or warming up to companionship in general.

One step at a time.

Time slipped by as the dewback lumbered on. You rested your cheek against the scratchy fabric of his cape and closed your eyes. The rhythmic movement, the darkness, and comfort of the position lulled you into a light sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when Din woke you, squeezing your now limp arm that was resting on his thigh above his beskar plate.

“Alive back there?” he asked in a low voice.

Leaned against him, still groggy with sleep, you felt the question rumble through his chest.

You sat up straight, pulling your arms back to your sides. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. We’re close.”

The two suns had risen, bathing the landscape in the golden glow of early morning. You looked around and saw that you were a short distance from where you’d left Toro and Fennec. You couldn’t see them yet, but you figured they were hidden behind one of the many large boulders strewn across the landscape.

As you drew nearer, though, you could tell something was wrong. Only one figure came into view—and it was crumpled on the ground. Din registered this as well: his shoulders stiffened, and he pulled the reins tight to halt the dewback’s slow advance.

It was Fennec’s body on the ground. Toro was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“You were right about him,” said Din. “Stay here.”

Din dismounted and approached Fennec’s body. She looked dead, but he crouched to check. He tried to find a pulse, and after a moment, he stood back up and shook his head.

As Din walked back toward you, the realization dawned on you both at the same time.

“He didn’t—”

“The kid—”

“She must have—”

“We have to—”

Din hurried back onto the dewback and directed it toward Mos Eisley, doing his best to make the lumbering creature pick up its pace. It didn’t help much.

The ride back was interminable. You definitely didn’t fall asleep this time, adrenaline keeping you on edge as the hours passed. Both you and Din were incredibly tense, speaking very little, thinking only of the child.

***

Night had fallen again by the time you reached Mos Eisley. The speeder bike that Toro had been riding was parked outside Peli’s. Fury and fear spidered through your veins at the thought of him with the kid.

Din jumped off the side of the dewback and looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched. You maneuvered your leg over the side and slid down a bit until his hands gripped your hips, and he lowered you until your feet hit the sand. You could have easily jumped down on your own. He knew that. You knew that. You’d let him help you anyways.

You paused outside the bay to draw your blasters.

“Here,” Din offered you the flash charge.

You slipped it into your jacket sleeve, where it stayed tight against your wrist. Together, you crept through the door and down the stairway that opened up to where the Razor Crest was parked. It was eerily quiet.

You scanned the space, jumping slightly when one of Peli’s pit droids scurried past.

“Took you guys long enough.”

Toro walked slowly down the open ramp of the Crest, the barrel of the blaster in his hand pressed to Peli’s back. The child was held in his other arm.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh?” he sneered.

The urge to hit him flared up so acutely that you clenched your fists. You hissed at him: “Don’t you da—”

“Drop your blasters and raise ‘em,” he ordered, cutting you off.

You and Din exchanged a look before throwing your blasters to the ground. In a subtle movement, you shifted the charge from your sleeve to your fist as you placed your hands behind your head.

“Cuff ‘em,” commanded Toro, nudging Peli forward and throwing two sets of cuffs to the ground.

She moved toward Din.

“No, start with her,” Toro drawled, jutting his chin toward you. “To think I almost cut Mando out of this deal,” he laughed. “I would have gotten you and Fennec, but this is so much better. I get to collect the bounty on you and this target here that Mando helped escape,” he pointed his gun at the baby and all your muscles tensed in protective rage, “...and I get to turn in the legendary Mandalorian himself—a Guild traitor.”

Peli walked behind you. You grasped the charge in your fist so that she would be able to see the top of it. You heard her quiet, sharp intake of breath.

“Fennec was right,” Toro continued smugly. “Bringing you three in won’t just make me a member of the Guild—it’ll make me legendary. Three high-value targets on my first try. Wow, I should really thank you guys.”

Peli was fumbling with the cuffs behind you, taking longer than necessary on purpose.

You hoped she was ready to duck because you’d heard enough of Toro’s self-congratulatory monologue. You released the charge.

In the split second of blinding light, you, Din, and Peli sprinted in opposite directions, taking cover. Toro groaned and attempted to cover his eyes, shooting blindly at the empty space where you had been standing.

Din took Toro out in one shot.

You were closest to where he fell, so you charged forward with your blaster trained on his body. The baby wiggled out of Toro’s arms and ran toward you. His big eyes were watery and his arms stretched toward you, his fingers making little grabby motions. He chittered nervously as you scooped him up with your free arm, and he buried his head in your shoulder.

You kicked Toro’s blaster away from his body as Din approached to make sure he was dead. After he checked his pulse, Din tugged the pouch of credits from Toro’s belt and tossed it to Peli. “Here,” he said.

With a gasp, she caught it and emptied the pouch in her hands. Credits tumbled out, a few falling to the ground.

“That cover us?” Din asked.

Peli looked shocked, scrambling to pick them all up. “Yeah... uh, yes. This is gonna cover you.” It was clearly far more than she was expecting.

You passed the child over to Din, and he looked down at the baby, tilting his helmet in...what? Affection? Relief? This was a head tilt you hadn’t defined yet.

Peli approached him and looked down at the child. “You take care of him, you hear?”

Din nodded.

“Thank you for watching him,” you said to Peli, genuinely grateful that she had turned out to be trustworthy.

“Besides getting held at gunpoint... I guess it wasn’t too bad,” she replied, smiling down at the baby. She’d clearly grown fond of him, and you couldn’t blame her. After a moment, Peli mumbled a goodbye and walked away, eagerly counting the credits in her hands, her pit droids skittering after her.

You stood there, finger caught between three tiny green ones, as the kid babbled and cooed up at you. When you looked up, Din’s helmet was trained on your face.

He tipped his head toward the open ramp of the Crest in a wordless invitation.

You smiled at him, a comforting warmth settling in your chest, and he followed you into the hull.

***

Chapter 7

#tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #my writing #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #reader insert #mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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p4lparker · 3 years

Text

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

"Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

"Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

"Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

"Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

"Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room, he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him. We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

��Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head. He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for.

#repost #stiles x reader #stiles smut #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles x y/n

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Casual Ruin Pt. 1 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Hello, and welcome to an unapologetically kinky, 90% smut / 10% plot mafia fic for Elriel.

Blanket trigger warning for ALL parts (although the first is very vanilla and sweet): this is for adults and contains both sex and violence. If you are not a fan of those two things, or the mild combination of them, scroll along. It contains things that might be triggering. It’s a dark romance.

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“Wake up, dolce mia.”

The words are a soft, accented whisper pressed against my ear during the darkest part of the night, followed by sinful lips pressing a kiss to my skin that jerks me out of my sleep.

Despite the rush of heat that floods my system, I keep my eyes closed and groan, pushing his face away. My body’s exhausted, and despite wanting nothing more than to wake up and let him make me even more tired, I need sleep.

A rough chuckle escapes him, but he’s apparently inhuman, doesn’t need sleep, and isn’t giving up this easily.

Dodging my weak attempts to push him away, he drags his mouth down the column of my throat, stopping to suck and nibble on parts that are especially interesting.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as he finds the junction between my shoulder and throat, but I still keep my eyes closed.

The cold metal of his chain raises goosebumps as it glints down the valley between my breasts, and his mouth follows, almost like he’s unable to help it.

He’s all over me, scent surrounding me and making it impossible to truly fall back asleep, no matter how tired I am.

He’s put my body through every possible sexual position known to man tonight, somehow pulling every ounce of pleasure from me.

But, like always, I want more.

He’s a drug, more potent than anything on the market, and I’ve come to crave the feel of him against me in the three weeks I’ve known him.

“Wake up, bellisima,” he murmurs, rough voice like a song that ignites a fire in my blood.

I shake my head, and he smiles against me. I regret not opening my eyes a little, because while nothing about him is unattractive, his smile is something I could never get enough of and I hate missing it.

Calloused, scared hands ghost down my body almost reverently, and then he’s kissing a trail across my ribs, over my stomach, and up to my breasts.

His tongue swirls around the peak of one, hand coming to mold the other to his touch, and I use every ounce of willpower to say still.

I’m proud to say I make it a full two minutes before I can’t take anymore and give in. “Fine. I’m awake.”

I say it as if it’s a struggle to be awoken by him and not the best part of my day.

My eyes open to find his, the warm hazel taking my breath away like always.

He gives me a slow smile, coming down to press a kiss to my lips. He tugs on the lower one with his teeth, then smooths the small hurt with his tongue.

I can’t help the small whimper that slips out as his tongue meets mine, because I’m honestly powerless to the way he kisses me.

Slow and deep and perfectly controlled, but also possessive and a little desperate. He’s a selfish kisser; he kisses me exactly how he wants, turning my head just right, nipping my lips when he wants, only breaking when I’m breathless.

A palm goes to my thigh, guiding it around his trim hips, then he’s grinding against me, letting me feel him against me, hard and ready and so tempting my eyes cross.

I resist the urge to arch up into him long enough to tease, “Egoisto bastardo.” Selfish bastard.

“Egoista,” he corrects, smirking.

I roll my eyes, caring less about adjectives and more about the feel of his hands on my hips. I roll my hips slightly, watching as the hazel of his eyes darkens to black.

“Was there a reason you woke me up?” I ask innocently, reaching between us and palming him in a blatant attempt to drive him half as crazy as he does me.

He nods and pushes into my palm. My hand instinctively wraps around him, and I guide him to the apex of my thighs, running the head of him against me in a way that makes us both shudder.

He pushes my head to the side with his chin, then runs his mouth up the column of my throat, stubble making goose bumps rise in his wake. His teeth nip at my skin before he whispers roughly, “I want to fuck you, Elain. I want to feel you around me, hear you call out my name, watch as you come on my cock. So stop teasing me and let me make give us both what we want.”

I don’t respond with words, being completely unable to find them. I just tilt my hips and slip him inside me, watching as the brown in his eyes fades to black.

Jaw tight, he pushes into me fully, causing me to arch up into him. My legs go around his waist, and he hums in satisfaction.

He pulls out the tiniest amount, then thrusts back in harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “You feel so good,” he praises, teeth finding my earlobe and biting down softly. I moan his name, my body on fire for him, and he murmurs, “I love the way you say my name.”

He pulls out all the way, then slams back inside me so hard I feel the reverberations in my hip bones. “But I want to hear you scream it.”

My head rolls back against the mattress, and I can hardly breathe around the feel of him inside me, filling me so perfectly. Somehow I’m still not used to it, not used to how it somehow feels so right.

My breasts bounce as he works me, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest with every thrust. His head raises and his eyes drop, watching.

“Minchia,” he curses, reaching up to palm my one roughly. “Cosi bella.”

If he keeps talking in that husky, deep voice, I won’t last another two minutes. I’m already shaking, but I push the impending release away, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

He moves faster, hands sliding down to my backside to lift me up exactly how he wants. His pelvic bone brushes against my clit every time our hips collide, and it’s almost too much. A low moan escapes me as he kisses my neck, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands tighten on my ass, and then his palm is connecting with my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he growls, even though it’s obvious I did.

I nod, mouth too preoccupied with kissing his jaw to reply.

Like always, he gives me exactly what I want, using the other hand this time to spank me. The sharp sting pushes me over the edge, and I yell his name yet again as I come.

He doesn’t come with me, just releases my ass to wrap one arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he takes his own pleasure. His hips are harsh against mine, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I take everything he gives me and want even more.

My nails rake down his back, and he mutters a curse against my lips as he kisses me. His tongue meets mine, and I can’t stop myself from sucking on it, completely lost in him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he growls, bracing a hand on the headboard I hadn’t realized was so close. His fingers are tight on my shoulder, lips brutal against mine, thrusts so hard I’m practically screaming.

But it isn’t any of that that makes release find me again.

It’s him groaning, “Ti senti cosi bene,” then leaning down to press the rough translation to my ear.

I come apart entirely, and it’s a miracle his lips stifle the helpless noises I make, otherwise I’d wake up my cranky old neighbor. Again.

I tremble beneath him as his movements get a little sloppy, then still entirely.

He kisses my again as he comes, and it’s a rough, almost bruising sort of kiss that makes me want to do it all over again.

He eventually slows to a stop, looking down at me with enough heat in his eyes I melt.

“Fatto per me,” he whispers, running a knuckle over the curve of my cheek.

My sluggish brain works overtime to figure out what he said, eventually finding the translation.

Made for me.

~Three weeks ago~

The opera house is unsurprisingly packed, opening night drawing in over two hundred well-dressed patrons.

I had to pull together three months rent for the ticket alone, a ridiculous expense I’d normally never allow myself, but coming here has been on my bucket list for over nine years, ever since I first heard Cecilia Bartoli on a friend’s radio.

I pinched pennies, picked up extra shifts, and only ate Ramen for the month leading up to my trip here--a real crime, considering my profession--so I could come.

And even though I broke out in a cold sweat from the expense of this night, I have to say it’s already worth it. I have a huge smile on my face as I make my way through the lobby, stopping to look at the program and take in the portraits of the performers.

By the time I go to enter the auditorium, there are only a few people left in the lobby. I want to use the restroom before the show starts, so I hurry up the stairs to the upper floor to look for it.

Except it’s nowhere to be found.

I search down every hallway, the stress of missing the show forcing me to almost jog. A man in a red jacket steps into the hall right when I’m starting to despair, and he turns to me and raises a brow.

“Excuse me... where’s the restroom?” I ask in the most atrociously broken Italian he’s probably ever heard.

His eyes skate over me from head to toe, then he says something back, way too quickly for me to decipher.

I assume he’s asking if I have a ticket, so I hold up the crumpled paper I’ve been guarding for months and smile.

He gives me a strange look, extending an arm and gesturing for me to follow. I nod, and we start off down the corridor, stopping in front of a plain white door.

“This is the restroom?” I ask, not understanding why it isn’t labeled or anything.

He mumbles something I can’t hear, seems to hurry me on, then opens the door and practically shoves me inside.

And straight into a man’s chest.

Which makes this the strangest women’s room I’ve ever ventured into.

He steadies me with two hands on my shoulders, and somehow I know, before I even look, that this man will be devastatingly handsome.

Too curious not to, I look up. And up, and up some more.

And I realize I was both right and wrong, because the man before me is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also so much more, to the point where those words aren’t enough to describe him.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

It’s a classic sort of look, one that will never go out of style and never be considered anything but perfect.

Hazel eyes rimmed in dark black eyelashes meet mine, narrowed at the edges with amusement. His full, all too kissable lips are turned up in a smirk and surrounded by a day’s worth of stubble I know would scratch at the fingers I’m tempted to run over it.

He’s so tall my neck starts to cramp, but I’m a deer in the headlights, unable to so much as blink.

He’s monochromatically dressed in black, from his suit jacket, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. We’re still pressed against each other, and the differences between us couldn’t be more obvious.

He’s sin incarnate, the perfect picture of a fallen angel, and I’m the naiive girl dressed in lilac and unable to stop blushing.

His dark hair slips over his forehead as he leans his face further to mine, and for a strange second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he takes a step back and regards me with assessing eyes.

“Stai bene?”

The sound of his voice--a cool, deep balm that soothes my nerves--throws me for a second, but even my American self can understand that simple question. I nod.

His lips twitch. “Sei sicuro?” Are you sure?

I nod again.

“Tu parli?” Do you speak?

My eyes narrow a little at the teasing note in his voice. “Si.”

“Cosa stai facendo qui?”

My knowledge of Italian is limited to the Duolingo I’ve been cramming in the last couple of months, so I tell him I don’t understand.

He waves a hand around us, his eyes growing a shade darker as he prowls toward me. He says something in a low voice, the tenor in his voice giving me goosebumps.

“It was an accident! I was looking for the restroom,” I blurt when he takes another step toward me.

He stops. Understanding dawns. A smile breaks lose that threatens my sanity with its beauty.

“You’re American,” he says in surprisingly perfect English.

It isn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m at the opera,” I state stupidly.

His lips tip upward, and I mentally slap myself for the dumb response. “You are. But what are you doing here?”

Oh. For the first time since I was shoved in here, I take a look around. I’m in one of the dark boxes on the upper floor of the opera house, the ones usually reserved for royalty or billionaires or people willing to spend an entire paycheck. There are two seats, a table in between them, and a perfect view of the stage from the slight balcony.

I gasp when I realize the lights are dim, meaning the show has either started or is about to. “Have I missed anything?”

“No. Now answer the question.”

God, he’s relentless. I sigh and explain, “I was looking for the bathroom, and a very unhelpful attendant pushed me in here instead.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. Like he’s trying to tell if I’m being serious or something. Honestly, who would lie about going to the bathroom?

“Listen, Mr...” I realize I don’t know his name, so I just keep talking. “I don’t know why you think I’d lie and sneak in here, but I’m not, and I didn’t. And I don’t want to miss anything, so I’ll just head down to my regular seat and get out of your hair.”

With one last look at him, I make my way to the door. Only to be stopped by a large hand shooting out and a softly murmured, “Stay.”

I start to deny that knee-weakening request, start to tell him it would be crazy to sit here alone with a stranger. But then a woman steps onto the stage, and everything changes.

“Oh my God, it’s her,” I whisper, practically shoving him out of the way as I hurry over to the balcony.

Cecilia Bartoli’s on the stage, wearing an elaborate gown, dripping with diamonds and confidence, effortlessly belting out lyrics I’m too dazed to even try to understand.

For a moment, I’m so lost in the music I don’t notice when a warm hand lands on my elbow and guides me to the chair behind me. I sink down, eyes still trained on the stage.

I’ve listened to her on my phone or the radio for so long that it’s surreal to hear her live.

I’m breathless by the time the song ends, and it’s when I hear a deep breath I remember I’m not alone. “Sorry. I... I’m a big fan of hers.”

He presses a button on the table I hadn’t noticed and an usher immediately brings in a fresh glass of champagne and a tumblr full of amber liquid. “No apology is necessary. I’ve never met an American fond of Italian opera; it’s refreshing to meet someone with good taste. I’m surprised you don’t speak Italian, though, given your passion.”

“You don’t have to understand what someone’s saying to understand what they’re feeling,” I point out.

He grins like I’ve said the right answer to a difficult question. “True.”

The next song starts, a backup singer effortlessly building he crowd’s energy, and my gaze is torn between the man beside me and the stage. I want to stare at him and listen to him speak in that strangely sexy voice, but I’ve also been looking forward to this show for almost a year.

“I’d like to propose a deal,” he says, surprising me.

My eyebrows quirk at the practiced way he said that, and I debate if this is a good idea. Curiosity wins in the end. “A deal?”

“I leave you alone and stop interrupting your experience, and you agree to have a drink with me after the show’s over.”

I purse my lips to give the appearance of being deep in thought. “I could always just leave and sit in my own seat.”

He nods. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” He should be.

He smiles, hazel eyes on mine as he takes a slow sip of his drink. For some reason, my stomach ties itself in knots and my thighs press together at the look in his eyes. He smirks like he knows what happened, and says, “You don’t want to leave. In the five minutes you’ve been here, you haven’t stopped blushing. And let’s not forget the spell of speechlessness.”

I blush again, making him chuckle.

Then I murmur, “Fine. Deal.”

He takes my hand in his, shaking once and sealing it in metaphorical stone.

“Enjoy the show.”

Cecilia starts singing again before I can respond, and I become lost once again to the vibrato of her voice.

I don’t like all opera, and I don’t like all opera singers, but there’s something about her that makes you feel every single thing she’s thinking about while singing. It’s the rawest form of art I’ve ever experienced, and it’s impossible to look away while she tells her story.

That doesn’t mean I’m not overly aware of the man next to me.

His eyes are on me the entire time mine are on the stage, acting like I’m more interesting to watch than the show he undoubtedly paid thousands of dollars to see. His gaze burns a hole into the side of my face, but I can’t be bothered to care because I just can’t believe I’m here.

The last song before intermission concludes, leaving the audience in suspense of what happens next, and I find I’m almost breathless as I watch the curtain sweep closed dramatically.

A condition that does the opposite of improve when the man beside me says softly, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“You’re charming,” I say back, my skin warming like it always does with compliments.

He grins like that’s amusing.

“What’s your name?” he asks, facing me and crossing his long legs. I do the same, leaving less than an inch between our knees.

“Elain.”

“Elain,” he repeats, drawing the syllables out in a way that makes me bite into my lower lip.

“What’s yours?”

He tilts his head, almost in preparation, as he answers, “My name is Azriel Pacino.”

He says it with finality, like he’s a person of importance and is used to being treated accordingly. I mean, it makes sense, considering the private booth we’re sitting in and the instantaneous service the waiter brought our drinks with.

I realize something I’d pushed to the back of my mind. “Why did the man from before bring me in here? He seemed like he was nervous or late or something.”

“He was,” he chuckles. “He was supposed to bring me my companion for the evening, and he was late.”

My jaw snaps shut. “Oh. So... you’re still waiting for her, then?”

At this point, she was very rudely late, but that’s absolutely none of my business.

He tilts his head and smiles, the sight too much for me and causing me to take a long swallow of champagne. “Are you asking if I’m single, Elain?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times to his amusement, but I end up whispering, “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I wasn’t.”

I feel a strange sense of relief, but I don’t have time to read into it before the curtains sweep back open and the lights dim, meaning the show’s about to start.

More singers are with Cecilia now, their voices joining to create a sound so moving, I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears. Which grows harder as the scenes progress, and it becomes obvious this story will end in a tragedy.

By the end, I’m helpless. My eyes are watering, and I have a death grip on the arm of the seat I’ve all but forgotten I’m sitting in. The last song is the one that breaks the dam, and when the performers bow and the lights come back on, my cheeks are damp.

I wipe them with the backs of my hands, then stand and clap so hard my palms hurt.

Taking another large sip of champagne to calm myself, I turn back to Azriel, finding him watching me once again. I normally would feel a little guilty about completely ignoring a man for over an hour, but hey, we have a deal.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”

“So much more,” I answer, laughing incredulously. “I’ve wanted to see her perform for years.”

A thoughtful look crosses his face, then he stands with fluid grace I could never hope to have and extends a hand. “Come with me.”

I remember our deal. “To get a drink?”

He shakes his head but offers no other explanation, and even though it might be a bad idea, I accept it.

Azriel pulls me from the booth and leads me down the hallway I ran through earlier, and I notice the people on this floor give him a wide birth, looking at him with round eyes.

Maybe he’s famous here or something.

I shrug it off, deciding to live in the moment as his arm goes around me and his palm lands on my waist.

We come to a stop at an elevator I hadn’t noticed, and once inside, he presses B instead of the button for the lobby.

I’m confused as to why until the door opens and I see a flurry of people bustling back and forth, carrying props and costumes and other important stuff.

My eyes shoot to Azriel’s, but he stays silent, just guiding me from the lift and down a narrow hallway.

He knocks twice on a door, then opens it and tugs me inside.

When I glance around him to see what the surprise is, I almost hit the floor.

Cecilia Bartoli sits on a plush sofa, holding a martini and looking so beautiful and classy I almost start crying all over again.

She looks up at us and raises an eyebrow, and I’m about to... I don’t know, apologize for barging in unannounced or something, when Azriel speaks.

It’s in Italian, so I can’t be sure what he’s saying, but then he tilts his head towards me and says simply, “Elain.”

She gets to her feet and comes toward us, bypassing him to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheeks. “Buona sera, Elain.”

I take a shaky breath, half convinced I passed out and this is all some elaborate dream. “Buona sera.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks in heavily accented English, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. It was the most moving thing I’ve ever seen. I’m a huge fan of yours. I bought my ticket and have looked forward to this for months, and it was perfect,” I babble, not able to shut up in her presence.

“Gazie.” Her eyes shoot to the man beside me, and she asks kindly, “Would you like an autograph, dear?”

My mouth drops open, because I have to be dreaming. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

She waves a hand, grabs a program from tonight off the dressing table nearest us, and signs, “Elain, It was lovely to meet you. Cecilia.”

Then she hands it to me, not possibly knowing how much it means, and says, “Come back anytime.”

I nod overzealously, too stunned by the events that have gone down in the last ten minutes to say anything witty besides, “Thank you so much. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

She kisses my cheeks again, nods to Azriel, then moves back toward the couch. He says something else that has her rolling her eyes, but he pulls me from the room before I can try and decipher it.

As soon as it shuts behind us, I turn and smack his shoulder.

He looks adorably confused, but I’m on an adrenaline high and don’t stop to appreciate the expression.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you know her! Or that that’s where you were taking me! I could’ve... I don’t know, fixed my hair or something!”

Smiling, he smooths a hand over the slightly curled locks resting on my shoulder and shakes his head. “She’s an old friend of mine. It’s why I came. And you look perfect.”

I ignore the tingly sensation that statement gives me. “You’re friends with Cecilia Bartoli.”

I say it as a statement, but it still sounds ridiculous.

He shrugs. Shrugs.

I shake my head in bewilderment, not knowing what else to do, and he chuckles. “Come with me”

I do.

He leads me upstairs and outside, then down the Sicilian streets until we find a beautiful, quiet bar close to where I’m staying. It’s candlelit and romantic and this entire night sounds like a fairytale.

We take one of the many abandoned booths and order, then he leans back, drapes a long arm over the back of the booth, and looks at me like he’s content to do just that all night long.

“Why are you in Sicily?” he finally asks as our drinks are being set in front of us.

I take a sip of wine and respond, “I start at the Culinary Institute on Monday.”

Two days from now, and I could hardly freaking wait.

“You must be a talented chef, then. That’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world.”

“I guess. What about you?” I ask, desperate to talk about him instead of me. “What do you do for a living?”

He pauses, takes a drink. “I’m in security.”

That would explain the fact he could blend in at a boxing match or a board meeting.

“How is your English so good, by the way?”

Another pause, this one longer than the one before. “I lived in Chicago for a while.” I’m about to ask why he moved, or maybe why his expression got darker when I asked him that when he beats me to it. “How long does the program last?”

It’s my turn to pause and stall with a sip. “Just the summer.”

He nods, taking that in stride, even though it feels much more dramatic to me. Of course I’d meet someone handsome and kind and interesting when I’m only in town for three months, two weeks, and six days.

Suddenly, I’m worried he won’t want to continue this date, knowing it’s all but pointless, considering I’m not here permanently.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Elain.”

I look back up to find him studying me, hazel eyes serious. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He reaches over and taps my bottom lip. “I know you’re frowning. And you’re beautiful when you frown, caro, but I much prefer your smile. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy the moment.”

“Okay,” I agree, vowing to do exactly that.

“Okay,” he parrots, taking another sip of his drink and tilting his head. “Why Cecilia Bartoli?”

I take a deep breath and try to think about how to phrase this. “My mom died when I was younger, and I lost my dad when I was fifteen. It hit me hard, and I couldn’t find the will to live, much less smile. And then one day, I was sitting outside the restaurant I was waitressing at, and our chef played a song by her.”

“And it was just... one of those life changing moments I’ll never forget. Her music got me through the hardest part of my life, and I’ve grown to appreciate it even more over the years.”

He smiles sadly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

I shrug, once again a little uncomfortable. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I want to get to know you.”

We spend the next to hours talking.

We talk until the place is empty and I’m sure the owner is ruing the day we were born, but I can’t bring myself to stop. His dry commentary makes me laugh, his occasional smile makes my knees weak, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world makes my heart pound.

The music is still playing, even though the bartender is nowhere to be found, and since I’ve had pretty much the best night of my life and am just tipsy enough to be bold, I stand and offer my hand.

“Dance with me, please.”

His lips twitch, even as he says, “I don’t dance.”

I frown, and his eyes narrow. “Well, if you want me smiling and happy, I suggest you change your policy.”

He snorts but gives in, sliding from the booth and taking me in his arms gently. One of his palms is cradling mine, the other is on the dip of my spine, and for a moment, we simply sway to the crackly sounds coming from the old stereo.

We dance through the tables, and he turns out to be much better than I expected, twirling me and leading me effortlessly. Or maybe that’s just him.

He’s obviously a born leader, someone who’s always in control, and it’s refreshing to be with someone confident but not overbearing.

My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart soothes an ache in my soul I never realized I had. “You smell good,” I tell him, very matter-of-factly.

It’s a weird thing to say, but I kind of can’t help it.

He smells like smoke and spices, the combination so addictive it’s all I can think about as we move together.

The hand on my back moves to the back of my head, and it quickly shifts from dancing to being held in his arms. We’re still swaying, but it’s more of a hug, both of us simply enjoying the feeling of the other against us.

His hand glides through my hair, and it feels so good I close my eyes.

I try telling myself I’ve known him a handful of hours, but it’s no good. He’s somehow transitioned from a stranger to someone I’ve known for years, someone I’m comfortable around.

So when he pulls back and mumbles, “I want to kiss you,” against my ear, I let him.

And when he walks me to the townhouse I’m renting, kisses me slowly, and gives me a business card with his number on it, I promise to call.

____________________________

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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malfoysstilinski · 4 years

Text

can’t even pt2 | JJ MAYBANK (+SMUT)

MASTERLIST

PAIRINGS: JJ Maybank x Reader, Rafe Cameron x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: part two of can’t even. jj and y/n can’t stay away from each other after their meeting on the beach.

WARNINGS: smut, cheating, public sex, dirty talk, drugs, domestic violence, curse words

A/N: i actually wrote another version of part two but it was REALLY angsty so i wrote this one instead. hopefully it’s okay idk

PART ONE IS HERE

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. JJ Maybank, that was-- not your actual boyfriend. The incident on the beach had happened a week ago and Rafe seemed to not even remember arranging plans to meet you that night, so you never brought up the fact that he had left you lonely.

Lonely if fucking JJ Maybank on the beach was considered lonely.

Regret had followed you around for days, yet somehow, at the same time, all you wanted was for it to happen again. For JJ to stumble upon you again and for your lips to meet and for his hands to roam places only Rafe should go.

“You’re being weird,” your boyfriend mutters, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

He’d said it quietly to not draw attention to the two of you sat on the couch at a party, his friends surrounding you but talking about something else. You tense slightly when his large hand grabs your thigh and his lips press against your ear.

“What is wrong with you?” Rafe hisses.

You stare at his hand on you and try to convince yourself that it feels the same as it did at the start of your relationship. That you still love Rafe like you did months ago before you realised how truly fucked he was.

You grab his hand and squeeze it, turning so your lips are inches apart from each other. “It’s nothing,” you whisper.

You pull him in by the back of the neck and Rafe kisses you back eagerly, yanking you by the hips. You’re practically on his lap when you hear a wolf whistle from Topper, causing the two of you to pull away from each other.

“Get a room!” Rafe’s friend howls.

Rafe rolls his eyes and smirks. He’s about to make some witty comment about actually having a girlfriend when one of his friends you don’t recognise pulls out baggies of white powder. Rafe’s eyes practically warm at the sight of them and he pushes you away from him to lean closer to the table the drugs are going to be sprawled out across.

“Rafe,” you wrap your hands around his bicep as you try to whisper in his ear, not wanting to embarrass him in front of his friends. “You promised you were gonna try--”

“Leave it, Y/N,” Rafe huffs, “Just a line or two.”

Just a line or two.

Rafe must think you’re completely stupid if he thinks you’d believe him. It was never just one or two with Rafe. He was a selfish and dependent person. It was never simply over with him-- he always went back for more. Always.

You roll your eyes and stand up, drifting away from the boys who are about to snort their fathers’ money up their noses. There’s no point in trying to convince Rafe to not get high tonight. Rafe does what Rafe wants.

You decide to go and find your favourite Cameron sibling instead-- Sarah. She was most likely around somewhere considering it was a Kook party celebrating the start of summer. Your eyes eventually landed on blond hair, but much shorter and messier.

JJ.

His blue eyes have already landed on yours before you can wonder what he’s doing at a Kook party. His lips tug upward into a small smirk and you notice his bottom one is split but healing. Somehow he still looks like the most handsome man at the party.

You move closer to him unconsciously, like magnets or something. JJ has a red solo cup in his hand as he peers down at you.

“What are you doing at a Kook party?” You ask him.

“Invited by Kie, of course,” JJ shrugs his shoulders. “I get the best of both worlds.”

“Hm,” you release a small huff through your nose, amused. “I wouldn’t necessarily say this party is any good.”

Your tone is daring. It tells him everything he needs to know.

“I’d have to agree,” JJ downs the rest of his solo cup and crumples it in his hand before he lets it tumble to the ground. His tongue darts out to collect the alcohol across his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

...

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, biting your lip as JJ slides into you.

You look down at your bodies joining together and realise JJ’s doing the same thing, groaning to himself at the erotic sight. He presses you harder against the wall of Rafe’s home and pulls out before shoving into you roughly again. You gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep yourself up right.

Your dress is hiked up and your panties moved to the side. Nobody would see anything if they rounded the corner of the large house, but they would know exactly what was going on from the sounds that left both your lips and the way JJ’s hips thrusted like was on a mission.

You felt like you were slipping, legs shaking slightly, until JJ grabbed beneath your thigh and hauled it up to his hip. You understood what he was saying and jump, letting JJ catch you with both his calloused hands. His slender fingers squeeze your ass as he remains deep inside of you, a smirk on his face at the hazy expression you wear.

“What would you do if Rafe came ‘round the corner right now, hm, darlin’?” JJ grins with gritted teeth as he thrusts particularly hard, making you bite down on his shoulder. “Would you let me carry on fucking you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, hands moving from the back of his hair to scrape at his back, his shirt riding up with them. “Let him know I’m yours.”

“That’s right,” JJ’s eyes darken possessively. “You’re mine.”

He pulls out of you and guides you so that you’re back on your feet. His hands grip your hips and he shoves you against the wall so your cheek is pressed against it. He squeezes your ass again and then thrusts his cock inside, pinning your arms behind your back.

You feel like you could cry from the amount of pleasure you’re experiencing, whines and moans leaving your lips that made it sound like you were shooting some over the top dramatised porno or something.

“Look at you,” JJ breathes, one hand holding your wrists back and the other gliding his fingers down your spine. “Such a pretty body. Such a shame I can’t have it all the time.”

You whine even louder, attempting to back up against him a little. JJ chuckles darkly and grabs your hips nearly painfully. It feels good with the pleasure though, especially when one hand breaks free to reach around and rub figure eights against your clit.

“You’re soaked,” JJ mutters. “Who are you wet for?”

“You,” you pant. “Wet for you, JJ.”

“Damn right,” he lands a harsh smack to your ass and teases your clit even faster. “Those noises you make are so pretty, baby. So pretty.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you grab at the wall.

“Do it,” JJ orders, slamming his hips into you roughly. “Cum around my cock, baby.”

His words have your eyes rolling into the back of your head and there’s no way that nobody heard your moans. JJ fucks you through it, not quitting until your body is left jerking in the aftermath. He pulls out and you seem to know what he wants.

You turn and kneel, opening your mouth for him and sticking your tongue out. JJ grins, blue eyes twinkling. God, you’re perfect. He jerks his cock a few more times and then groans lowly, cum spurting out and landing on your tongue, a little on the side of your lip.

You make eye contact with him as you swallow his seed and JJ wishes he could record it or something. Especially when you swipe away the remainder of his cum with your thumb, slipping into your mouth and sucking it off.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” JJ grunts as he zips up his trousers and helps you to your feet.

“Thank you,” you giggle, surprised you’re not as ashamed as last time. “That was... good.”

“It was?” JJ furrows his brows. “I didn’t think you’d be back after last time.”

“Neither did I,” you admit in a whisper. “But it looks like I can’t stay away, huh?”

...

“Yes, yes, yes,” you squeal as you both reach your high together.

JJ groans loudly underneath you and you can feel his warm cum fill you up. Your eyes flutter at the sensation before you pull yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back next to the blond who was panting, staring up at the ceiling.

“That was fucking amazing,” JJ grins as he rolls onto his side to look at you.

The two of you had been hooking up for about three or four weeks now, not including the week you spent apart after the first time. You knew you needed to break it off with Rafe, you really did, but the boy was more concerned with drugs than you and it had gotten to the point where you were pretty sure he forgot the two of you were dating most of the time.

Besides, you were honestly scared. Scared that if you told him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore that he would lash out and hit you... or worse.

“I think I’m gonna do it today,” you say and JJ’s eyes light up.

“Really?” He questions.

“Mhm,” you look around at the room JJ spent most nights in in John B’s Chateau. “I don’t want to be that person. I hate doing this to him.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks worriedly.

“That will piss him off even more,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I think it’s best I handle this myself.”

“But it’s Rafe we’re talking about here,” JJ states the obvious as he sits up, pulling a shirt over his body. “He could get violent.”

That’s exactly why I’ve been putting it off, you think.

“He’ll probably be more glad that he can snort as much coke as he wants now without me breathing down his neck,” you mutter.

...

You stick to your word and later that night you find yourself outside the Cameron household. It’s quiet, just the family inside tonight. Sarah smiles when she opens the door to you and tells you that Rafe’s upstairs in his bedroom, so you take your time heading up the staircase.

Please don’t get mad. Please don’t get mad.

You knock on his door and hear some shuffling about before it opens. Your heart nearly stops when you realise Rafe’s as high as a kite. His pupils are dilated, the skin around his nose a little red and he’s breathing heavier than usual. He doesn’t even smile when he sees you, just moves aside.

“What?” He mutters.

“Rafe, we need to talk.”

There’s silence. Then he laughs. Rafe starts to cackle like a madman, and perhaps he is. He stops laughing after a few seconds and stares at you quite blankly.

“Who’ve you been fucking, then?” Rafe suddenly demands, mood flipping like a switch. “Come on! Topper, is it? John B on the boat? Come on, Y/N! I’ve seen the hickies!”

“Rafe,” you cower backwards. “I think it’s best we just end our relationship here--”

“I don’t want to be with a used slut, anyway,” Rafe growls, grabbing your wrist and squeezing.

You yelp before you rip it out of his grasp and shove him back as hard as you can by the chest. “Me? Me a used slut? You’ve cheated on me with half the tourons that come through this fucking isla--”

You’re smacked across the face next, your head flying to the side in shock. Everything’s silent aside from Rafe’s heavy breathing as he waits for your next move. You hold your cheek, pulling back finding blood on your cheek.

“Bye, Rafe,” you mutter and start to leave.

“That’s it, then?” Rafe yells after you, sounding somewhat panicked. “You’re not gonna fight back? You’re just gonna let me do that!?”

Before you shut his bedroom door behind you, you send him a small smile and think of the blond who will be more than furious to see the growing bruise on your cheekbone.

“Don’t worry, Rafe. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

taglist: @beth-winchester21 @thatshithurted8 @k-k0129 @mayybank @joshy-obx @dontjinx-it @baby-pogue @sydney-m @jeyramarie @aamcqueeny

#jjmaybankimagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx imagine #jj obx #obx #outerbanks #outer banks #outerbanks imagine #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Blue Ribbon [of Fate]

Masamune x MC Smut

Word estimate: 2.2k

...He would just... look... good this way...

Contents / Content Warnings: dominant MC, (slight) bondage, blindfold, sex while injured, blow job(s), vaginal sex, pain mention, injury mention

The scent of desinfectant rose into the air, the smell being both familiar and jarring, especially when put right below his nostrils. A cloth dabbing liquid pain into his broken lip, Masamune closed his eye and forced his muscles to relax, the burning sensation spreading down the side of his face alongside the touch of his lover, then carefully inspecting all his bruises and minor cuts. He let out a reliefed sigh, her fingers tracing a path down his neck and over to his chest, skilfully avoiding the few sore spots scattered in their way.

She pushed, and he fell, although he wasn’t quite sure as for why, his back hitting the soft futon below them before he even got a chance to wonder. Masamune opened his eye, Mai staring down at him, concern mixed with… Something he was not quite sure of. “What’s the –” he cut off sharply, her teeth grazing his neck, her lips searching for his pulse and latching onto it, a red mark soon blooming where they laid. She, however, pulled away, her cheak brushing against his. “You have no idea how scared I was when your letters stopped coming and all we had were rumours,” she whispered. An arm by his head supporting her, Mai straightened her back slowly, tilting her head as to meet his gaze. “I’m so… I just…You’re back,” she let out finally, dropping lower again. “Kitten –” he tired again, fervent kisses spilling over the line of his jaw, from his cheeks to his nose, forehead, eyelids, her touch a feather when at the corner of his mouth, not daring to go any further.

A stolen humm of approval, a stray gasp as her teeth nibbled on his skin, her breath growing hotter. Mai sat up straight without a single note of a warning, his eye snapping open and staring at her in surprise… She, however, refused to answer the quizzical look, the tip of her finger beginning its journey at his jaw, tracing the path down his neck, stopping only at the very edge of the collar of his yukata, all to tap it lightly. “I do not plan on letting you out of bed in the near future. How you spend this time is up to you…” she hummed quietly. “And if I wanted to spend it with you?” “Then, of course, I’d have no choice but to oblige… On several conditions, that is.” “Several conditions?” Masamune asked, propping himself on his elbow and sitting up a moment later. “Yes, since you’re quite beaten up and I really do think you should rest. I want to take the lead today.” His grin appeared gentler than usual, perhaps for the fact that he had to subside it, lest he wished for his lip to break open anew. “Is that all?” “No,” Mai replied, cupping his face. “Second condition: do not even try to kiss me. No touching or moving without permission either.” Masamune nodded in reply, half-consciously leaning into her hand, her thumb brushing against the edge of his scar. “And lastly, I have a question: blue or red?” Not quite understanding how the matter could connect to their plans, he raised his eyebrows, her smile confusing him further, her thumb venturing over to the unscatched part of his lip. “Haven’t I told you I’d tie you up if you returned so tattered again?” she hummed, withdrawing her hand. “So?” “Blue.” Masamune swallowed thickly.

A moment passed before she returned, a pair of scissors and a roll of thick shiny ribbon in her hands. Unhurriedly, she straddled him, Masamune leaning back as she returned to her caresses, reaching below his collar, daring touch forcing it to open, deft fingers tracing the contours of his body. Her teeth grazed his collarbone, the obi keeping his yukata closed unwiding before he even realised – her nails in his shoulders, Mai pushed him down with what force she had. “Hands,” she demanded, her back straightening as she made herself comfortable, the fabric of her robe barely covering her legs. He obliged nearly immediately, the slight delay causing her to click her tongue.

Blue ribbon forcing his wrists to come together, she tied the ends of it into a bow, a content smile coming over her face as she pulled onto the fabric lightly, a flick of her finger urging him to let them rest above his head. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll break free?” “I have an odd inkling you are right where you want to be,” she hummed, her hand pulling onto his hair as to tilt his head back. Mai bit lightly onto his neck, her tongue sliding over his Adam’s apple. “Unless you’d rather flee from me?” she whispered against his skin. “No,” he rasped. “No?” “No, my Empress.” “That’s my Masamune,” she laughed, grinding against his cock hard as to reward him, the – much dreaded – fabric still standing in the way.

Masamune gasped, her lips descending down the length of his body, fresh marks blooming in their wake, accompanied by traces of her teeth. His muscles tensed, her breath tickling his stomach, few kisses more bringing her even lower. “What would you want me to do?” she asked, eyes fixated on him as she stroke his dick through the fabric. “I –” he groaned, her grip on him suddenly tightening. “You?” “I would like for you to take it into your mouth, my Empress,” he blurted out, and she granted his wish, her lips closing around him the moment the last word sounded off. Slowly, she took him deeper and sucked hard, pulling back the moment she heard him moan. “You’re rather vocal today,” Mai noted, licking the head of his cock lazily. “Should I stop?” “No. Don’t you dare.” She sunk low again, a hum answering her as she entered a steady rhythm, entirely focused on earning herself more of his praise.

His cock twitched, and she pulled away instantly, his hips unmoving despite the pained expression on his face. Careful as not to touch him, Mai straddled his waist, gazing down with a smirk. “What is it? Weren’t you enjoying my service?” she teased, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I was, my Empress.” “Then what’s the sour face for? Did you think you’d be allowed to finish just yet?” “Yes,” he let out a shaky breath, her nails scraping against his scalp. “Selfish thing,” Mai feigned a disdained sigh. “I want some of the pleasure for myself too… Although you can’t provide in your usual ways,” she continued, her gaze anchored in his lips. “Does it hurt?” “No.” Mai nodded absent-mindedly, reaching behind herself as to give him a few pumps. “Good,” she hummed, sliding down his body.

Her fingers curled around the base of his cock, and she sunk onto him in one motion, her impatience showing in how wet she was. Her robe spread further as she rode him, her body tilted back for his dick to hit the one spot that sent elecricity through her. Her hands over his thighs, she let herself look away, her eyes soon closing just regardless – and he watched, his dick glistening whenever it emerged from between her folds, her pussy beautifully exposed, the collar of her yukata sliding open bit by bit. Her command was clear, for him not to even dare shy away from using his voice, so he let his praises be known, Mai humming alongside him as her walls grew tighter, sweat coming onto her skin and causing her to glow. Her pace grew frantinc, nearly disorganised, each breath a whimper in disguise…

Her hand slipped, her thumb pressing too close to the bandage, a jolt of pain surging up his leg. Masamune held back a wince, yet his muscles tensed regardless, her gaze mildly confused – and for all he could tell, she was so close, only falling down from her heights due to the minor mistake and the concern it caused… He jerked his hips up, rellying more so on his good leg, Mai falling forward as gaps spilled from her lungs. A few thrusts, although also a few too many, her eyes closing, her clothes in utter disarray… She clenched around him, her walls pulsing rhythmically.

Mai sat up abruptly, his cock still inside of her. “Up. Now,” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. Having drawn his arms to rest in front of his chest, Masamune obliged. “What have you done?” “I broke the rule, my Empress,” he replied, hardly remoresful. She bit onto his ear. “Which rule?” “ ‘Do not move without my permission’.” “So you were well aware of it? My, my…” she sighed, pulling back. “Close your eye.” He accepted his punishment without question, his world hiding behind the ribbon, a knot at the back of his head securing it in place, cool fabric sliding around his neck as well, dropping down by a bit as she tied a bow on him. She pushed onto his shoulders and he fell again, his cock falling out of her, her hips rising only to grind against him a moment later. Her hand appeared on his cheek, the thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “You’re so beautiful now, I almost wish you could see yourself,” she whispered, whitdrawing from him completely.

Masamune listened in closely. Her steps, somewhere around, quieting at a gradual pace… Was she movng away from him? To where? Something rustled and fell soundlessly – and she came near again, her skin brushing against his, warm breasts touching his chest. “Or maybe I should leave you like this and just longue around the way I am? Tease you a little, perhaps?” she laughed, his cock twitching against her stomach. “What do you think of that?” “Cruel.” “Oh? Too cruel for your punishment, you say?” “It’s cruel enough already since I can’t see you, my Empress,” Masamune replied.

His heart sunk, her warmth disappearing from him at once. Did he give the wrong answer? He strained his hearing, something moving by his good leg, her hair tickling him slightly as she traced her nails over the skin below his navel… Masamune groaned, his lover taking his cock deep into her mouth, her head beginning to move in a well-practised rhythm. Her fingers playing with his balls, she worked him relentlessly, methodical in spoiling him with each thing she learnt of him in the years they spent together. Up and down, she caressed him with her tongue, the period of separation they had endured turning his gasps all the sweeter – and she nearly dared be malicious and leave him again, her name sneaking into his moans being the only thing convinving her to stay. Just a little more, a little… A warning came from him, but she ignored it, his cock soon pulsing in her mouth as he came. Bitterness spreading over her tongue, she swallowed it all the same, for the lack of any better alternative at the time.

Mai slowly stretched her back, perhaps a few breaths passing before she moved as to untie his hands. “Can you turn on your side?” she asked, smoothing out the few minor lines left over his wrists with her thumb. “Yeah,” Masamune answered, wincing slightly as he moved and attempted to make himself comfortable. Careful as not to cause him any more pain, she removed the last few ribbons, his eye snapping open. His hand on her wrist, he pulled her into his arms before she even realised, her body flush against his. “The moment I let you lose, you pounce on me, really,” she laughed quietly, her hand on his shoulder. “I would have to be a fool not to, my Empress,” he hummed into her ear. “What would you say if I tied you up one day? I bet you’d look glorious in red…” “Get well first,” Mai snorted, pushing herself away from him. “And more importantly, we need to talk. I told you not to move, haven’t I?” she asked, staring him in the eye. “I wanted you to feel good too.” “I don’t want to come if it makes you hurt, understood?” she stated firmly, cupping his face in a gentle manner, her thumb brushing against the bruise over his cheek. “I know you care about me a lot, but, please, care more for yourself too. I love you, both when you’re leading, and when I take the lead, and when you’re –” she stopped abruptly, his arm hooking around her waist and pulling her forward. “Now you’ve done it, kitten, I swear,” Masamune murmured into her hair, his face feeling oddly hot, embarrassment winning against his tiredness. “My, my, I don’t tell it to you enough if you stop being used to it so fast,” Mai giggled, embracing him back. “Do you want to nap?” “We should wash up first,” he sighed. “I can go first, come here with a basin and wake you up?” “Yhmm…” was the only reply she got, his breathing growing gradually deeper.

Time passed, damp hair falling over the fresh yukata she donned. Having propped the basin on her hip, Mai slid the door to their room open, shy puffs of air coming from behind the folding screen. A gentle smile on her face, she stepped forward, soon setting the dish onto the tatami mats, few drops of water escaping past the rim. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps it was simply some odd impulse - whichever it was, she reached forward, her hands searching in the dark until her fingers tangled in the discarder ribbon. Somewhat surprised, Mai followed along its length, the fabric leading to where her lover lay.

Tag list: @nad-zeta, @cheese-ception , @tsubaki3192 , @rikumorimachisgirl Notes: After a bit of internal debate, I decided to tag only people I know for smut, only if they 18 or older. (It is strictly for the sake of peace of my mind). Thanks for your consideration ^^”

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

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blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years

Text

My Gallant Lad - Part III

So I got a wonderful anon telling me that this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fics, it’s part of my canon maraders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it here in four parts. I hope you enjoy it! Set during first wizarding war, Lily is very BAMF (but tbh so is James)

Read part I here : After their worst row ever, Lily and James get captured by Voldemort

Read part II here : James tries to save Lily

TW: angsty and violence

PART III

Lily’s raw voice echoed through the castle walls, a lone, hauntingly beautiful gaelic song. The words indecipherable to any of the Death-Eaters who heard it, yet clearly a lament of some kind. She hadn’t been able to stand it, hearing James’ screams, imagining what was happening to him. And when she couldn’t hear him, dread clawing at her every pore, wondering…

Are you dead, my love? Did they kill you? Please don’t die, I beg you!

Haunted by the silence, almost relieved when his screams returned, because she was selfish and wanted him alive, needing him to be alive… almost immediately replaced by rage and terror and guilt and begging them to leave her husband alone, screaming herself hoarse.

She couldn’t stand it when the sound from the dungeons suddenly stopped – a spell, she was sure.

What did it mean? Was he-

She started to sing. She sang in Irish. Fuck them, no Death-Eater could get inside her head now. She pictured him as she sang, her lively lad, turning around mid-laughter and catching her eyes as he and Sirius poked fun at each other, she saw him saying something ridiculous to Minnie and watching as the strict teacher’s mouth broke into a huge grin despite herself, saw all the Marauders chasing each other and yelling and James landing on top of the others. And always his mischievous, adoring eyes turned to her, searched for her. She saw him propose to her surrounded by fireflies, vividly heard that muggle record, the lyrics bittersweet…

”Yours in the gray of December Here, or on far distant shores I've never loved anyone the way I love you

Yours to the end of life's story”

“No!” her voice faltered. “No! Not today!”

She breathed in sharply, as someone knocked on the door, twice, in abrupt succession. She recognised that trademark sound.

“Severus?” she croaked.

Severus pushed the heavy door slowly, almost reluctantly, now that it came to it. He looked uncharacteristically agitated, his waxy cheeks flushed. Relief swept over him as he looked at Lily. She looked upset but safe. She was shackled to the wall, her hands above her head, tied together. She was trembling and pale. There was no sign of the Cruciatus, or other dark magic.

“Are you alright, Lily?” He said, hurriedly throwing a potent heating charm at her.

“What are you doing here?” Lily’s husky voice surprised him, he hadn’t heard her screaming.

“What happened? Did they hurt you?” Severus said, moving closer to Lily and regarding her anxiously. “They hurt me by hurting him,” she whispered.

Tears tracked down her cheek, and Severus wiped it with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he said, his voice trembling – he was slightly scared of her, and then there was unexpected guilt - guilt about lying, guilt about how James was going to die. “I tried to... I tried...”

He stopped and took a few breaths, looking at the ground.

“I tried to save him, I tried some healing charms and... and I sent the others away. I wasn’t sure what to do, Lily, but then I was called away and Avery had... I was too late, Lily, I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at her.

“No, Sev, please, not James, please,” Lily’s broken whisper made Severus’ heart ache.

“I’m so sorry, I’m... you don’t know how sorry I am,” Severus whispered back. “I’m desperately sorry.”

Lily didn’t say anything, silent tears streaming down her face.

“He... James and I, he spoke to me, he thanked me for trying to save him, before he... he asked me to save you, to get you out of here. I promised him I’d do it. Do you understand Lily?” She was looking at him blankly, through her tears, her mind far away in some distant time or place. “Lily!” Severus whispered urgently. “Lily, he wanted you to be safe! He insisted I save you! He told me a code word - I’ve no idea what he meant, but he said to tell you - Graham’s Number.“ “Graham’s Number,” Lily repeated quietly, as though dazed. “James.” “Yes, James,” Severus said, trying not to sound impatient. “We have to leave now, I promised him I’d get you out of here! Do you understand?”

Lily nodded, still crying.

“My beautiful,” she said. “My gallant lad.”

“Yes, yes,” Severus said, eying the door of the cell. “We need to leave! Now! If Voldemort finds us, we’re both dead!”

Lily stared at him intently. After a few seconds she smiled vaguely.

“I’m so sorry Sev, let’s go, I just... it’s so much to take in, you know? I can never thank you enough, for trying to save him, for being such a noble person?”

Severus squirmed.

“It means everything to me,” she said, her red-rimmed eyes looking into his soul.

“It’s nothing,” he said firmly, refusing to hold eye contact and pointing his wand at the chains. “Frangit!”

The chains broke, and Lily collapsed into Severus’ arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Can you help me? I don’t think I can walk?”

“Of course!” Severus said, feeling a bloom of warmth spread through his chest.

This was what he had longed for, desperately, for as long as he could remember – Lily, holding onto him, needing him, weaker than him, reliant on him, asking him, begging him for his help. He tucked his wand in his pocket and lifted her up, looking lovingly into her stunning eyes. Surely she could also feel the deep attraction between them, the passion sizzling beneath their fingertips?

“Lily,” he murmured, bringing their lips closer.

“Severus?” she said hoarsely.

“I love you, Lily Evans,” he said, holding her closer. “I always have.”

“Your idea of love sickens me, but I’m glad you’re so predictable, Severus.”

Lily’s voice was cold as she stepped back from him in disgust, and he found himself staring at the tip of his own wand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, his heart pounding as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Change of plan, Snape!” Lily said. “You don’t get to sweep me away like a lying bastard-“

“Your husband agreed to this! It was his idea!” Severus’ voice rose.

“Gobshites, the pair of you!” Lily said, her voice quivering with rage. “Probably one of the only things you two ever agreed on - that James Potter should sacrifice himself to save me? That James Potter was expendable, that I would cope without him?” Severus dropped his gaze in the face of such fierceness. “You see, I’m not leaving here without James. If he’s dead, and you better hope to fuck he isn’t, I’m still bringing him with me. He means more to me than anyone else, everything else, in the entire world. I’m not leaving my soulmate to rot in this hell!”

Severus looked at her hand with trepidation as she aimed at his chest.

“I was trying to save you, Lily,” he said, stepping away from her.

“Trying to save me for yourself, Severus! Killing my husband was never going to buy you my love!” Lily’s green eyes were incandescent.

“I didn’t… I had no part in it, it was Hugo Avery!” he said.

“No part at all? That’s strange,” Lily sneered. “Because your friend Hugo payed me a lengthy visit which only finished a short while ago, you practically overlapped.”

Snape’s eyes widened with surprise and alarm.

“He wasn’t meant to go near you!” he said.

“He did,” Lily said, shuddering despite herself. “Came in to tell me everything he was planning on doing to my husband, and later on, to me. It took rather a long time.”

“What do you think you’re-“ Severus said in fear, as Lily lifted his wand.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Lily’s voice was hard and implacable. “Imperio!”

Continue reading BAMF Lily here

Snape’s eyes widened for a split second as the invisible spell hit his chest (so powerful it almost threw him backwards) before they seemed to fade, the fear in them replaced by a dullness.

His hands fell by his side. “Is this castle surrounded by anti-apparition wards?” she asked.

“Yes, and the nearby forest,” Snape answered mechanically.

“Where can we use a portkey?” Lily ordered, poking Snape with her wand.

“From the courtyard in front of the main entrance.”

She hated the strange empty look in his eyes, as though he was unable to think for himself and devoid of any thoughts at all, until commanded by her to do so. She hated it.

“Good,” she said. “Now you will do exactly as I say! You will bring me to the oubliette, and you will help me save my husband if it’s the last thing you do! But first, you will bring me to your potions lab!”

********

“Step away from Potter, now! I’m taking over!” Avery’s head jerked upwards in shock as Snape landed with a heavy thud right beside him, closely followed by Lily Evans, who had a glazed look in her eyes.

“She’s under the Imperius,” Snape added, glancing around at the other men.

“Snape?” Avery said, glaring aggressively at the half-blood. “What the fuck are you doing here? You said I could finish him off?”

“Change of plan!” Snape said, sounding furious. “Back the fuck away from him now, or you’re a dead man!”

“What?” said Avery. “Why?”

“The Dark Lord wants to take over torturing Potter and Evans himself, he needs to find out about his missing book. He will be livid if Potter is dead or unable to answer him! I mean murderous.”

Avery looked terrified.

“Fuck! Snape, you said...” Avery whispered hoarsely.

“You fool, you should have thought to check with your Master before you went this far! If I were you, I’d make myself scarce, unless you want to face the Dark Lord’s wrath!” Snape hissed.

Avery had never seen Snape look so imposing, so powerful. He looked like he wanted to obliterate them all.

“Shit! I... but what if he asks who...” Avery stammered.

“I’ll cover for you as best I can, but I suggest you leave until he calms down, unless you want to risk being here when he loses it,” Snape said, looking at Avery as though he detested him.

“Fuck. Okay. Thank you, Cerberus,” Avery said, frantically grabbing his cloak and stepping across James’ body as he latched onto the rope ladder and sped upwards. “Fuck Voldemort, I hate that bastard!”

Nobody answered, aware that Avery was extremely unwise in voicing his feelings about the Dark Lord’s unpredictable behaviours.

“Severus, you moronic shit,” Severus said between his teeth. Mulciber and Rosier snorted, enjoying Snape’s irritation. “You two better help me get Potter looking more presentable and less dead, unless you too want to join Avery and get AK’ed to hell!” Snape whirled around menancingly. The two men looked at him blankly.

“You don’t think the Dark Lord is actually going to forgive Avery, do you, you pathetic fools?” Snape scoffed dangerously. “Throw every healing spell you can think of at this traitor, and I’ll see what I can do for you two imbeciles!” Rosier cleared his throat and looked stunned. Mulciber glared at Snape.

“We hardly did anything!” he said. “You probably did more of the Crucios than we did!”

“I presume you haven’t forgotten that the Dark Lord is an extraordinarily gifted Legilimens?” Snape smiled thinly, sticking the tip of his wand into Mulciber’s abdomen. “He’s going to die of blood loss, not of Crucios, obviously, you fool! Care to tell him yourself the extent of your role in this… shambles?”

Mulciber’s lips thinned and he shook his head.

“Thought as much,” Snape replied smugly. “Mulciber, get me the blood replenishing potion immediately. Rosier, give me a hand here – Vulnera Sanentur over his entire body, Brackium Emendo over his ankles, quickly!”

Rosier nodded his head and started firing healing spells anxiously. Snape did the same, deep in concentration, his wand flying over James’ body. Mulciber reappeared moments later, holding a half-empty bottle of dark red liquid. Snape grabbed it off him wordlessly and carefully placed three drops into James’ mouth, scanning his face anxiously. Blood trickled from James’ right ear.

“Still looks pretty moribund to me,” he muttered to himself, touching James’ hands tenderly.

James’ fingers felt frozen, white, almost blue.

“Perhaps Rosier should come with you?” Mulciber asked, inching backwards towards the rope ladder.

Snape’s lip curled.

“Don’t be pathetic, Rosier is a liability, and far too skinny to be able to lift Potter. I need you with me,” he ordered.

Mulciber opened his mouth.

“The Dark Lord specifically asked that you accompany me,” Snape said. “He said he may need our help in questioning Potter, that’s if he isn’t already dead by the time we get there. We need to hurry!”

Mulciber swallowed.

“Now help me lift Potter, and for fuck’s sake be careful, he’s perilously close to death as it is!” Snape said.

#ha!#BAMF Lily #she is mad as hell #watch out #part IV soon #angsty jily #defying voldemort #Jily #canon jily #BAMF Jily #not for you if you like Sn*pe #stand alone story #from we can be heroes #WCBH

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bensonhurstbullet · 3 years

Text

summer of sam (1999) dir. by spike lee sentence starters. tw: for cursing, sex, and murder.

“Business is booming up and up.”

“Crime is down, down, down.”

“Let's go to the diner and get breakfast. Eggs or something.“

“I drank too much tonight, you know?“

“You danced beautifully tonight, too. It was a lot of fun.“

“Who is this guy? Fucking William Shakespeare?“

“Hear about them kids that got shot? You know 'em?“

“You got some balls. You should be paying us to stand here.”

“You look like mozzarella.”

“I'd lay 5-to-1 the killer's from right here.”

“Don't you think we'd notice a sicko? Come on”

“What do you think makes them sickos, you idiot?”

“I'd be freaking out if I were you. Especially since the killer knows you saw him.“

“I didn't see no bodies. Don't start spreading that shit.”

“Nice outfit. Is it off the dead?“

“You can go there and jerk off. That's what you are, a real jerk-off!”

“I learned from your mother, dick.“

“You know what? God spared me. He spared me, man.”

“Didn't I say you weren't ready to get married?“

“You know butt-fucking, 69, doggy-style...”

“Cut that shit out. You gotta cut it out, or I'm not gonna spare you next time.”

“"Evil" spelled backwards is "live."

“I promise you and I promise God I'm gonna be the best husband you ever had in your entire life.”

“Did your partner tell you he ran errands for me when he was a kid?“

“You have been busting my balls ever since you got promoted. Why is that?”

“Wasn't I good to you when you were a kid?“

“You have the balls to come here and ask me to do you a favor?”

“You're back, you're gone for a week. You're back. You come, you go!”

“Now I got a case of blue balls. You happy?”

“Shut up. You sound like my father. Just shut up.”

“Selfish bastard. You're a selfish bastard.“

“Dressed like that you have an effect on a baby.“

“What about the $15 I lent you?”

“Why buy the cow when everyone gets milk and steaks for free?“

“I'm fucking busy. You can ride your cow to the subway.“

“What's your shtick, baby?“

“You don't scare me. Come and get me. I don't give a fuck!“

“All I wanted to say was that, since you've been with him, maybe you could tell me what he likes.“

“Baby, I gotta get outta here. I gotta get outta here. I can't take this anymore.”

“How about instead of making love, we fuck this time?“

“You're my wife and I love you the way you are.”

“You don't remember the beatings he used to give us?”

“You're a dog of society. On a leash to a certain way of thinking.”

“Anyway, you know, I wanna please him. But I don't think that I do.“

“Do you want me to tell you how to fuck your husband?”

“It's like everybody's got two personalities. One you're born with, one the fucking world gives you.”

“I can't be a whore. I'm a man.“

“I'll get him to kick your ass then I'll fuck him.“

“You linguini-dick motherfucker.“

“Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you. Are you in a cult?“

“Look at yourself. Look in the fucking mirror.“

“I hate myself. You don't think I hate my fucking self?“

“I got nothing in this life. All I got is you.”

“You fucking traitor. What the fuck are you doing?“

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the-karma-cafe · 4 years

Text

confession (byakuya togami x reader)

I lazily flipped the next page of the book I'd been reading for the past hour or so. It wasn't that interesting, or interesting at all.

But... Pink dusted across my cheeks. Byakuya had recommended it, so of course I vowed to plow on through its dull points.

Yeah, you read that right. I ended up getting a crush on the selfish prick. I didn't mean to, honest, it just sorta... happened.

I yawned, checking my watch. It was getting pretty late, almost time for Monokuma's nighttime announcement. We'd all promised to stay in our rooms. I went to stand when the twisting of the library's doorknob met my ears.

I froze for a second, pure terror flooding through my body. Nobody came to kill me, right?

The door opened and I held my breath, having absolutely no plan if someone was, in fact, plotting my untimely demise.

Fortunately, the door revealed Byakuya's poised form. He cocked a brow at my tensed self. "You're scared." he stated, and, as per usual, I wasn't sure if it was more of a question. Did he want me to confirm?

"Uh... yeah." I slid my legs from their perch on the desk. "Guess I haven't exactly gotten used to this place yet."

"Yet?" he echoed.

I chuckled lightly, closing the book and placing it on the desk, vaguely registering his eyes snag on the movement. "Well, I wasn't planning on dying in here. Unless...?" I trailed off, my eyes flitting down his body, leaving the unspoken question to hang in the air.

He waved off my concern. Though I wasn't really all that concerned in the first place. "I won't be killing you anytime soon. In fact, I'm here to speak with you." his gaze pinned me to the ground and my heart skipped a beat.

I squashed the hope the second it surfaced. No. We've been over this. He isn't here for me, he's here for some information. That's all. Like he always was. Nothing new. I nodded at him, pushing myself up to stand. My hands smoothed down my clothing as I strolled over to where he hovered, close to one of the bookshelves. I leaned against the wood of one.

"Whaddya need to know?" I grinned toothily, trying not to betray my disappointment.

Byakuya was unnaturally silent for a beat, staring into my eyes. I gulped. You're killing me, man. Just say what you want and go.

He gave up and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "This stays between the two of us." Again, it wasn't a question. I nodded numbly, wondering where this was going. Was it really so embarrassing? He coughed lightly, clearing his throat. "I... I need to know how to confess to someone." The tiniest bit of pink dusted across his cheeks.

I blinked in surprise, feeling my heart sink. He had feelings for someone. Someone that, decidedly, wasn't me. I shook off the feeling. I had no right to keep him from being happy. If this person made him happy, then... I would support their relationship.

I smiled weakly up at him, attempting to tease him, "Oh? The great Togami heir has fallen in love. How sweet." I poked his chest and winked. "Who's the lucky crush?"

Byakuya shook his head. "It shouldn't affect your information, should it?" I shrugged and he rolled his eyes. "On with it, then. What's the best way to convey my... feelings." He spat out the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. I grinned fondly.

I twirled my hair around my finger absentmindedly. "Well... tell me how you feel about them. Maybe that will help me to come up with the best way to do things." I prompted.

He scowled. "How do you mean?" He kept crossing and uncrossing his arms, nervous. If they've got him this worked up... man, they're lucky.

I shrugged again. "Just tell me how they make you feel. What parts of them you just can't stop thinking about, how they make you smile..." I trailed off, knowing that if I continued, more images of Byakuya would pop up in my head and I wouldn't be able to last much longer in this conversation.

"Parts of them I can't stop thinking about..." he frowned, mulling it over. His eyes were trained on the ground, giving me a minute to glance over his face while it was still mine. Before he could run out of my arms and into another's. His lips tugged up slightly. "I... I can't stop thinking about her smile, the way she bites her lip when she's concentrating, how she twirls her hair when she's lost in thought, the sound of my name on her lips... everything." I blinked back tears. He really did like this girl.

"Ha, you sound like a proper romantic." I said, cringing when it sounded dry and frustrated. He didn't deserve that.

He broke from his trance, having picked up on my tone as well. "Is something wrong, (Y/N)?"

I massaged my temple. "...No, no, nothing's wrong. Go on, I think I'm getting a better picture here." Even though I knew it would hurt to hear him fawn over some other girl, he got this sweet look on his face that I hadn't seen before. This might be the only time I could get to cherish it.

He eyed me for a beat longer, but continued on. He talked about her likes, her dislikes, her expressions, her kindness, her bravery, her respect for him, and more. I memorized the way his face lit up and his lips spread into a soft smile. He clammed up when he caught me staring, a faraway look on my face. "Is that enough? Can you help me now?"

I pushed off of the wood and stretched my arms into the sky. "I think I'd be honest. Just come out and say it. I'm sure they'll feel the same way, if they are how you say they are." My heart twisted at the thought. I don't know how much more of this I can take... No, don't be selfish. My mind ran through the girls locked in with us. Maybe Hina or Toko? Probably Toko. Hina didn't seem to like him very much.

"Very well." he said, "And when should I be doing this?"

I bit my lip. I could give him any time frame. Hell, I could tell him to wait another year, just so I could have him more to myself.

No. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did that to him. Watching him pine from a distance might be even worse. "As soon as you're comfortable. The sooner the better, though." I fake-yawned, eager to escape this conversation. "I think I'm gonna head to bed-"

"As soon as I'm comfortable?"

I sighed, slightly irritated at being interrupted. "Yes, as soon as you're comfortable. Then you just hafta wait and see."

He frowned. "I see. Well, in that case," he turned his sharp gaze on me. "(Y/N), I have feelings for you."

Wh-

I gaped, my mind still processing what it had heard. Me?? Since WHEN??? His frown shifted into a smug little grin. And he said all those sweet things- they were about me?

"Is this the part where I 'wait and see'?" his grin grew, his face inching towards mine. My face flushed at his proximity.

"I-I..." I didn't know what to say, really.

"I-I?" he teased me. "Is that all you have to say, (Y/N)? That doesn't seem like much of an answer." I covered my face in embarrassment. And to think! I went and got jealous over myself!

"Warn me next time!" I moaned woefully, hating how red my face was.

He shrugged. "You told me to come right out and say it. So that's what I did."

"Yeah, when I thought it wasn't me!"

Byakuya tilted his head to the side. "Who else would it have been? Kirigiri thought it was fairly obvious."

"Kyoko knew???"

"Naturally. She's got a knack for that sort of thing." I almost ripped my hair out. Here I was giving crush advice when I couldn't even realize when someone liked me back! "Are you going to leave me in suspense all night?"

I blinked. "Huh?" I asked, smartly.

He rolled his eyes again. "Christ's sake, woman, I've just confessed to you and all you've done is stutter and scream."

I shook my head and laughed, throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. "Sorry, I was just... surprised, I guess. Shocked, really."

"Disgusted?" he asked, his voice muffled by my hair. I squeezed him tighter.

"Happy."

We stayed there for a second, content to stay in each other's hold. He smelled heavenly, the slight scent of cologne from when he walked by earlier was now stronger and all-encompassing. God, I'm touch-starved.

He parted from me and smiled softly, almost afraid to. "Now what?"

I fingered his tie and eyed him slyly. "Well... you could escort me back, Prince Charming. Or..." I tugged down on the tie, pushing closer to him.

He caught my lips with his and I gasped against him before melting into his embrace. I'd just cooled down my face, but felt it heat up again. My arms pulled him as close to me as possible, but he still wasn't close enough. His own arms wound around my waist, awkwardly at first, but he gained confidence as we continued, needing this as much as I did.

My hands crept into his hair, soft and smooth. I threaded my fingers through the strands and he sighed into my mouth, jerking my waist closer. I smiled against his lips.

"My prince!" a shriek cracked through the air, making us separate. Byakuya held steadfast around my waist. We looked over to see Toko, her hands yanking at her braids furiously. Her jaw was clenched hard enough for her teeth to crack under the pressure, her glasses askew.

I blinked in surprise. "Toko? What are you doing up so late?"

She screeched at my words. "What am I doing up so late!?! That's the first thing you say?!!?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess." I paused. "Oh..." a devilish smirk took over my face. I stroked Byakuya's cheek. "You mean this?"

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, nodding furiously. I suddenly found it very amusing to make her jealous. After all, he was mine now. And he didn't seem to mind all that much. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders and kissed his neck. He shivered lightly at the touch. "What of it?" I teased, dancing my fingers over to his chest.

"AGH!!" she threw her hands in the air and fled. I giggled.

Byakuya rested his hands comfortably around me. "Awful bold of you." he said.

I shrugged. "Well, now that you're mine, you might as well be mine." I turned to him and flashed an innocent smile.

He nodded approvingly. "Green is a good color on you."

I pecked his nose. "Where were we?"

#byakuya togami x reader #byakuya togami #byakuya x reader #oneshot #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa oneshot #thh x reader #thh #reader insert #imagine

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

Text

No, this is

A/N: Talk about record timing. Can’t believe I got this out in one go. This is the last part of the three part Sero fanfic series. No more angst. Y’all got lucky with this one ;)

Sorry for the mushiness. You and Sero are simps™️. It was kind of ugly. However, it couldn’t be helped.

I had fun writing this. I hope you had fun too. Enjoy 🖤

Pairing: Sero X Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, not graphic but heavily implied under-aged sex that teenagers don’t do (hope you noted the sarcasm), and fluffiness!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

No, this is

It was 24 days post-breakup. You were doing better. Much better. There were still days when the tears would burn, but it was nothing crippling. Not like it used to be. Besides, between training and your academics, you didn’t have time to mope around. You might be heartbroken, but you weren’t going deter your life because of it.

You sat on your couch, studying for your Calculus test the next day. The busy work had been down to a minimal, so you had more time to study for exams. For now, you were reviewing everything you and Momo had reviewed during the evening.

Then your phone buzzed.

You squinted as you read the name, assuring yourself you weren’t seeing wrong.

It was Sero.

It had been over three weeks since you received a text from him. And vice-versa. You almost forgot his contact was in your phone. Hagakure had said texting him in a moment of weakness would mean double heartache for you. So, you made yourself suppress any urges to text him.

There was a voice inside your head to ignore the message. It was only recently that you had been okay with seeing him on a daily basis. And the class dynamic was going back to normal. You didn’t want to ruin it again—

He double—no—triple texted.

Maybe you shouldn’t have opened it as quickly as you did.

Sero: Hey, how are you doing?

Sero:

Okay, that was probably weird. I’m sorry for texting you after all this time. I know I’m probably the last person you want on your phone so, I’ll make these next few paragraphs as quick as possible

Sero:

At first, I thought time apart would be good for us. 24 hours after, I was a mess, but seeing you smile and laugh…I thought I could suck it up and move on if you were too. Three weeks in, and I’m going crazy not being able to talk to you. I know it’s almost been a month and I am every bit of a coward for only now growing the balls to finally reach out to you, but I need you to know this. I didn’t want to break-up. I never did. I only said that because I was angry, defensive and I wanted to hurt you. It was in the heat of the moment, but that’s no excuse. I was being a dick. I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to be condescending. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I never mean to make you feel like I don’t have time for you.

Sero: I would spend every waking moment with you if I could, but it’s just been a bit overwhelming lately with school. Something I know you can relate to and I’m sorry was acting like I was alone in that. I feel like such an asshole for letting you go. You’re worth fighting for, Y/N. These past 18 months have been so amazing and I’m not ready to let that go. I never want to. I want to be by your side through thick and thin. I’m sorry for not showing you that as of late, but I swear it still holds true

Sero: Long story short, I’m willing to fix this if you want to. I want to talk. Face to face. If you don’t want to get back together, I understand. I will respect your decision no matter what. I just want to make sure both of us lay our issues on the table so, at the very least, we get closure and, hopefully, stay friends. Know that you will always have me as your biggest supporter, even if it’s not in the way I want to be

Sero: I love you, Y/N. Now and forever. I’m so sorry I ever hurt you

He watched the dots in the chat bubble bounce, on and off, for 30 minutes.

You: Hey

Sero: Hey

You: Apology accepted. Thank you for reaching out and I didn’t mean to leave you on read. I just had to type up my corny paragraph in notes before I sent it to you. You know how I get

Sero: Of course. And even if you did mean to, I would deserve it

Sero: And I’m all ears…or eyes?

You laughed at that. Even after all this time, he was still cracking jokes.

You: I thought I could make peace with what happened that night. It was so hard going to bed, knowing we had fought and not making up. But you looked like you were moving on and I didn’t want you to pity me. So, I chose to move on to. Or, at least I tried to.

You; The truth is, I never wanted to break-up with you. I don’t even know why I ever suggested the idea. I was mad and I just started rambling, finding whatever I could say to hurt you like I was hurting. I’m sorry for that. It makes me feel happy that you feel the same way. When I heard you agree with me, I felt like I could’ve died right there. I thought ‘I just helped him get rid of myself.’ I felt like the biggest idiot for ruining our relationship. Thank you for apologizing, but I also have things to apologize for.

You: I’m sorry for storming in your room with an attitude. I’m sorry for being a hypocrite and getting angry with you whenever you had schoolwork. That’s important and I was being a jerk. When I confronted you, I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that either. I haven’t loved anyone like I love you, Sero. Losing you broke my heart in ways I didn’t think were possible. 18 months isn’t enough time. I probably sound selfish, but I want more. With you. Only you. I want to talk it out. I know we can fix this. I want to so badly because I love you too much to let you go

You: I’m so sorry for hurting you

Sero: apology accepted. not to be annoying, but you don’t know how happy I am rn. i’d kiss you if i could

You: simp

You: talk tonight?

Sero: look who’s talking

Sero: and as much as I want to, you have the calculus test tomorrow, don’t you? I want you to get all the study time you can

Sero: tomorrow night?

You: no, you have tutoring for the Japanese Lit exam Friday. I know how hard you’ve been working in that class, so I want you to put all your energy on that

You: we can talk after school Friday?

Sero: okay, sounds good

You: okay

You: thank you for not giving up on me

Sero: never

Sero: I love you, baby. I’m sorry again

You: I know. I love you more

Sero: impossible

…

The next day, your classmates were very confused to see the two of you walk into homeroom together. They gaped as you laughed at a joke he cracked.

After nearly a month of ignoring one another, you two were suddenly keke-ing it up? What?

Your friends wanted answers. So, you were forced to tell them after class. Most of them were happy the two of you would talk it out. They respected your split but missed how happy you two when you were together. It just made sense.

Mina and Bakugo said they would only be happy if the talk went well. Bless their hearts.

On Friday night, you were just about to text Sero to ask where and when you’d talk. Before you could send the message, a knock on your window made you jump.

“Helloooo~” the perpetrator goofily sung, dangling by his tape.

You rolled your eyes as you opened the window to let him in.

“You scared the shit out of me. I thought you said no more dangling by windows like a stalker?” you teased.

“I did?” he chuckled.

You let him use your shoulder as support as you held his waist and he climbed through the window. Detaching himself from the used tape, he finally stood on his feet, but his arms never left you.

A moment passed between you two as you stared at one another. Sero only looked at your smile for three seconds before he took your lips with his own. Your hands threaded through his hair as his cupped your cheeks, squeezing out all the space between you.

The kiss was firm, desperate, and it kind of hurt; but it was everything you two needed at that moment. It was a crash course of the 28 days you spent apart. The feeling of your lips pressed against his was arresting. You couldn’t think. All you could do was relish in the feeling of relief. Relief that you were re-learning that he tasted like warm cinnamon and spice.

It was oxygen that separated you two. You kissed one of his hands on your cheeks and Sero connected your foreheads.

“I missed you,” he whispered, against your lips. “I was an idiot.”

“You were.” You softly kissed him, biting his bottom lip and enjoying the way he groaned. “But I was too. I missed you so much.”

“Forgive me?”

“Only if you’ll forgive me.”

“Always,” he smiled.

You returned it tenfold. “Always,” you repeated.

Then your lips found one another again. This time, you drew impossibley closer. Your arms found purchase around his neck as his hands slid down to your hips. Your tongues explored the warm cavern of the other’s mouth, making up for lost time. You moaned into him and Sero felt his dick twitch. One hand gripped the back of your head, tilting your head so he could have even more access. His other hand gripped your ass, making you whine in need. Just as your hands touched the warm skin on his taut stomach, Sero pulled your head back.

“Fuck—wait, baby,” he panted.

“What?” you hissed, pissed he was interrupting.

Even with his eyes clouded with lust, Sero would always prove to be the rational one in the relationship.

“W-we still have things we need to talk about.”

“Hanta, you walked in here, your hair in a ponytail, and no underwear under your sweatpants. Your grey sweatpants,” you enunciated. “And you wanna talk?”

“W-well, this is important and—” He tried to continue even as you forced yourself onto his neck. He forgot how sensitive he was there. And were you always this good with your tongue? “A-and—shit—I mean, we promised to talk…talk about wh-what weeee neeeed…oooh right there sweetheart—fuck! No!”

He pulled you away again, this time glaring down at you. However, he didn’t manage long from seeing your glistening lips from sucking on his skin. Your eyes glowed in pride at the darkening mark and they flickered upwards, meeting his crumbling resolve. You licked your bottom lip, eyeing him like he was a four-course meal.

You were gonna kill him one day.

“We need to talk about how to improve our relationship,” he gulped.

You quirked an eyebrow but smiled. “How about a deal? We get rid of this,” he curses as you palm his erection. “And then we can spend the night talking, yeah?”

He didn’t even miss a beat.

“Bet.”

His mouth was on yours in an instant. You figure yourselves out between kisses.

“Door?”

“Locked,” you confirmed. “Condoms?”

Sero hissed out another curse. “Shit, no. I didn’t think we’d—”

“Don’t worry about it. I have some in the drawer.” You jump and he effortlessly catches you so your secure on his hips. The adornment in his eyes makes your stomach do flips. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him. You can’t believe you almost let him go.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing you almost impossibly soft.

You return it. “I love you too. Now, make love to me, Sero Hanta.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A third of the night was spent tangled beneath the sheets, letting your bodies explore each other until not a single curve or scar was left untouched. After burning through five condoms, the other third was left for conversation. Vulnerable moments were shared. Some tears were shed, but those intimate truths would forever be treasured. Finally, the remainer of the night was spent asleep, wrapped in the other’s arms. A silent vow floating between your lips that you would never let go.

Because, this truly was better.

#sero x reader #sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #mha x reader #sero fanfic #sero imagine #sero scenariio #bnha x reader #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #mha romance #bnha romance #bnha simps #honorable mentions:#bakugo #mina ashido #class 1-a is invested #sero smut but not really #kind of sad this is ending but i'm glad it's on a good note

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solaris-writing · 3 years

Text

Title: In the Lanterns Glow

Character: Xiao

Word Count: 1,501

A/N: Listen to “Cosmic Love” by Florence and the Machine (it’s a lovely song). This is also my first real post, so be kind!

The lanterns engulfed the harbor, hundreds upon hundreds of little golden stars lighting up the indigo sky. Liyue had faithfully performed the tradition for centuries. Longer than I was alive (or remembered at least) or as long as Paimon could remember. The townspeople flooded the squares and the docks, lighting more lanterns to release into the sky. Some had crowded upon boats and ships to let off their own. Food stalls had been set up, games for the children to play and alcohol for the adults.

I didn’t take part in the festivities though. I felt like I would be invading some kind of ancient ritual. Even then, I was leaving for Mondstadt in the morning. Jean had a few things she wanted to go over in order for me to become a full Knight of Favonius, not just an honorary one. After the whole incident with Dvalin and Barbatos, it wasn’t the first time that the idea had come up. Even Kaeya had campaigned for it.

So I stood above the harbor, sitting on one of the hills overlooking the city. For the first time in a long time, I was at peace. Not fighting hilichurls, not on the road for my next commission, or searching for work at the Adventurers’ Guild.

Paimon had fluttered away, searching for a food stall that had grilled chicken and mushrooms (she heard a townsfolk raving about it earlier and she just had to try it out). So I was left alone.

I saw a flash of aqua, a short burst of color in the night. Several yards ahead of me stood Liyue’s Adeptus. He looked over his city, weapon at his side. Xiao almost looked mournful, amber eyes alight with a burning melancholy.

“Xiao?” I gently called out, jumping down from my post to join him. He didn’t respond, but I knew he was paying attention.

We descended into a peaceful, relaxed silence as the lanterns continued to float into the endless horizon. Even though the opening act was over, more lanterns were being lit and the party had just begun.

“I’ve seen this sight many times.” He mumbled, “Yet, it still amazes me.”

It felt strange sometimes. I was standing next to an ancient being. A being that had seen so much bloodshed and battle. A being that had seen the seasons change time and time over, seen the generations pass by and celestial creatures wither into nothingness. It made me feel so small and yet so significant.

When I first met Xiao, he didn’t speak a word to me. I barely got a nod. Now, he felt comfortable enough to let me stand by him and watch the lanterns.

I feel like being immortal is the greatest curse of all.

Yet, I felt special. He could have been anywhere else in Teyvat at that moment, yet he chose to spend it with me in Liyue, watching the celebrations.

“I’ve never seen these before. It makes Mondstant look bland.” I said, eyes flitting about over the festivities. “I wouldn’t mind seeing this again.” The red of the buildings was turned blood red and the golden of the streetlights was nearly blinding. It was much different than the stone and wooden buildings that predominated in Mondstat.

“Speaking of Mondstat, Paimon and I are heading back tomorrow morning. First thing. The Acting Master wants to have a meeting with me. I have no business here anymore.” I said, fiddling with my hands just to give me something to do.

I felt the change in his demeanor. It was a small and subtle one, but I knew it was there.

“Ah.” That was all he said, but I knew he wanted to say more.

“You don’t have to hold your tongue around me.” I explained, turning to glance at him.

“I’m not, mortal.”

That stung as if he just struck me. He hadn’t called me mortal in a while. He did when he first met me, when he was still scared and thought that I would just be another human passing by in his eons of life. He never thought that I would stick around for long. His tone of voice was much different than his previous. He had returned back to his cold, distant personality when we first met.

Gods.

He was right though. I was just a mortal, while he was something that my mind couldn’t even comprehend.

Xiao was brash and careless and selfish and had a superiority complex that had built for thousands of years. He was rude and prideful and needed to get knocked down a few pegs, even if he was an Adeptus and a Yaksha. But he was also surprisingly kind, protective, and made it his eternal life’s mission to deliver justice and guard those who could not protect themselves. To protect Liyue.

He was hauntingly beautiful.

And I loved him for it.

And that’s why I had to leave.

Mondstat was the furthest place from him, as far as I could go in terms of civilization. I’d become a Knight of Favonius and continue working up north with the rest of them. I’d have to leave behind the handsome man that I had come to admire. I’d pick up the pieces of myself and move on. That was best for the both of us.

I sighed deeply, fingers clenching around my satchel like a lifeline as I turned to leave. I needed to find Paimon anyway. It would give me something to think about other than my breaking heart.

“Don’t leave,” I heard a soft plea, his voice raspy and croaky and wet with tears. I looked over, heart clenching with a pain much greater than any physical wound I’d had before.

Even tearful and yearning, Xiao still looked like a dream. His amber eyes were brimming with tears, cheeks a little flushed with pink, and a quavering voice. He stared up at me, tears threatening to brim over his lids and onto his cheeks made of porcelain. This man called himself a monster, an animal that was undeserving of love and didn’t know how to love. This man had killed and destroyed and ruined. Yet he turned into a puddle in my hands.

“Please don’t leave me too.”

I couldn’t take it anymore and I lurched forward when the first tears came down. I wiped them away as quickly as I could, hands moving over his face as if I couldn’t find a place to put them. He reached up to touch them, like he was surprised at his own tears and my willingness.

Xiao’s eyes were red now as I pulled him into my chest. “I won’t go. I won’t.”

I felt the first signs of a sob building in his throat, so I held him closer. Tighter.

Holding his head to my chest, I enveloped him in a crushing hug that I hoped conveyed all that I felt. I was overflowing with emotion. It was burning a hole in the middle of my chest and if I spoke, I felt as if they were going to pour out of my mouth like water. That I wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Gods, this man was going to be the death of me.

“I won’t. I’ll never leave. Never.” I cooed, sighing as he curled up to me.

“I love you.”

All I could hear was my pulse in my ears. My heart wanted to leap from its cavity. My hands shook and I felt like my entire body was just going to drift away. I didn’t know how long it had been since he said those three words, but I was shocked out of my reverie. It all came flooding back to me, like I had been jerked out of a restful sleep.

Xiao had gone still, breathing uneasily against my shoulder.

“I love you too.” I murmured, “Oh my gods, Xiao, I love you too.”

It was all out in the open now.

Never in my wildest dreams that I thought that I would be standing here with him, covering his blushing face with milk and honey kisses. I even managed to get a little giggle out of him. At least it's a start.

So I stood over Liyue, lit up with the love from its citizens and the lanterns’ glow. Watching the children run in the streets and the adults celebrate their freedom and their guardians. My heart was full, my mind was at peace, and my arms were occupied by holding my still sniffling Adeptus.

All those weeks of pining, now that I look back on it as I glance at the silver ring on my hand, was all worth it. As long as I was with my man made of memories.

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

Footnotes:

So, that was a trip, but there is it.

#genshin impact #Xiao #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #writing #yes i love him #my sweet boy

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

Note

i will immediately take this chance to ask for a request; Instead of Joe, its the reader that dies (and what if the reader is a crush. you can choose if you want the reader to be Sara or Joe's crush but like- please-)

Oop I can’t choose between two of my favs so I’ll do both!

..........

Sara

"Yep. Looks like it’s game over for me.” You chuckled, holding up your Sacrifice card after the votes were counted. “Sweet Miss Sara made a pretty damn good detective, huh?”

Though as you looked towards the blue-suited woman, you could see her lower her head, her hands trembling as she refused to look at you. “C’mon, Sara..it’s alright-”

“H-How can it be alright with you..? You’re about to die.”

“....yeah, I know. I’d just be lying to myself if I said I was alright with it.” You sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She snapped her head up, allowing you to see her watering eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight for sure, but your gaze never wavered. “Had things gone differently..I would’ve chosen to escape with you. But..it looks like you’ll have to carry on--?”

Suddenly you were caught off-guard when she hugged you. It was a surprise, though you held her tight as you felt her tears soaking your clothes. “Hey, c’mon now...” You mumbled, frowning slightly. “It’s okay. I’m scared, too..I don’t want to leave you either.”

["I love you...”]

[”........”]

“I-I..I love you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat when those words left Sara’s mouth. ‘Is that why she’s been so protective and emotional around me ever since we got here?’ “Sara..”

“I wanted to..say that for a long time..s-since I won’t get that chance again I-I just--” She gasped

“I love you, too.” Tilting her chin up, she saw your teary eyes as you kissed her cheek. “No matter what happens, keep surviving. If for no one else, survive for me, okay?”

She was in shock that you returned her feelings, though all she could do was nod as Miley finally grew impatient with all the “tear-jerking crap”.

Soon your execution began--with metal pipes called Wrigglers draining the blood from your body. It hurt like hell, and everyone around you could only watch--some were crying, others were shouting at Miley to stop, and the rest appeared completely numb.

Despite all the pain, though, you kept smiling at Sara, who was desperately trying to stop the device with a clicker she was given.

Sadly it was all for nothing...as your body went limp and the sadistic floormaster mocked her attempts to save you out of “pathetic human love”.

Despite the overwhelming guilt she held after moving onto the third floor--she did take comfort in the fact her feelings were returned..

Though that didn’t make the hallucinations of you any less painful.

...........

Joe

“W-Well..at least everyone knows we traded cards..hah..hah...this sucks..” Joe ran a hand through his hair as he gazed at you, still in distraught you were the Sacrifice. “You wanted to escape with me, right?”

“That was..something I considered.” You sighed. “But I cracked at the end because I realized that would’ve been selfish of me. For us to live and for everyone else to die? I’d feel no better than that stupid doll.”

“HEY! I’m still here!” The Laughing Doll spat. “But I would’ve much rather seen you and lover-boy crumble into despair at your friends’ deaths, though I’ll accept this outcome~”

“Huh..?” You looked at her, confused. “Lover-boy?”

“U-Uh..”

“..Joe?” It was then you noticed the brunette nervously sweating as he approached you.

“Damnit..I...never thought I’d be confessing this here but...I like ya, [y/n]!” He forced a smile. “Since I’m not gonna get this chance again I figured I’d get it off my chest--!”

Suddenly he felt his tie being grabbed as he pulled towards you, surprised as you gave him a brief peck on the lips. When you broke the kiss, he saw your smile and tearful eyes--which in turn made him tear up at the realization that...he was about to lose you.

He was going to lose you and would never get to take you out on any dates. He even had a plan for the first one if you said “yes” to his confession.

“Hah..I-I knew you liked me. I mean who wouldn’t?” Sniffling, he hugged you tightly, not wanting you to see him cry even though it was obvious he was.

“I’m sorry, Joe..I..wish I got to spend more time with you.” You could feel him shake as you patted his back. Then you looked to Sara, seeing her nod solemnly.

On your way to the Main Game, you had asked her to take care of Joe should anything happen to you and they both survived. And from her expression now, you knew she’d keep her promise.

As Miley finally executed you, Joe could only collapse to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he watched your life literally being drained from your body. It didn’t help that the clicker he was given only prolonged your suffering..

Why did things have to turn out this way?

Why wasn’t he more stubborn in keeping his card?

Why would you...trade your life for his?

#oop hope they're not too ooc #clanask #anonymous #yttd x reader #your turn to die x reader #sara chidouin x reader #joe tazuna x reader #angst #tw death #tw blood #yttd spoilers

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keytomythoughts · 3 years

Text

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually.

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu)

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

Funny

Yk I can’t move out, at least not on my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

What about Jaehyun?

Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

They’re just hell-bent on me getting into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

Me crying and stuffing myself with pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

And that’s bc you were there dumbass and half of the time ur either in oppa’s room or out somewhere

Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

I miss y’all :’(

Ok I should be there around like 5 ish so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol

See? My point exactly

Your fAcE scared off every girl in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

I almost feel bad for them, u little heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

Rlly?!?

YAH

U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U JERK HOW COULD U??

Those poor girls omg

Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

Can it u demon

Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated.

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends.

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side.

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another.

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?”

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.”

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.”

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation.

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide.

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?”

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!”

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail.

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul.

What can I say? It’s a talent.

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder.

“Good to be back,” I whisper.

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment.

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat.

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

#moonbin x oc #moonbin ff #moonbin fic #moon bin #cha eunwoo #jung jaehyun #astro #nct #fanfiction #my writings #mine

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crybabyjam · 3 years

Text

ego

ship: bakudeku

rating: t

au: regency era romance, maybe?

summary: Being selfish isn't all bad.

word count: 5k

available on ao3 here, based off of art

---

Gentle light filters through a stained-glass window, and Izuku tiredly rubs at his eye as he watches squirrels chase one another up a thick maple tree trunk.

His breakfast has gone cold, plate settled on his lap as he sits on a stool he'd dragged over from the bar. The window is open, angled in a way that it paints pretty colors across the porcelain dish stained with strawberry juice and pancake syrup.

The smell of it mixes with the smell of summer outside: of sunlight through sweet tree boughs, and the perfume of freshly watered azalea bushes.

All of it together is too cloying, almost.

Izuku sighs to himself, fiddling with the half-eaten food for only a moment more before he sets it on the windowsill.

"I'm not cleaning that if it falls and breaks."

Izuku startles at the deep voice, fumbling with his own hands as he twists his head out the window.

On the other side of the wall, Katsuki rests. He's leaning against the stone, taking a rest from yard work by the ruddy stains on his knees and the dirt clinging to his forearms.

He shoves away perspiration from his brow, watching Izuku with an appraising eye, and Izuku laughs nervously.

"I won't break it," Izuku says as he moves the plate away anyway. "I'd clean it up myself, either way."

Katsuki only grunts.

His hair has grown longer over the past spring season. It was the beginning of summer, but already wisps of his sunlight colored hair tickle at his dark eyelashes. Just a bit. Izuku can see some of it clinging to the side of his face, sweat-slicked.

He glances away when Katsuki quirks an eyebrow at him. They're separated by a wall, but Izuku feels like Katsuki can see right through him at any moment.

(read more)

He gives a wobbly smile, eyes darting up again, but Katsuki has already turned away. He's rubbing at his callous-hardened palms, probably aching after working all morning.

Izuku had woken up an hour or so prior, and he remembers seeing Katsuki already hard at work in the garden.

A marble statue had gotten sun-bleached over the years, and Izuku had finally decided it was time to get it repaired. He hadn't expected them (that is, Katsuki and the other help) to get to it so soon, but they'd always been fast.

Katsuki most of all.

Others may have come and gone, but Katsuki had always stayed. He'd been with them— with Izuku— for years, even before Izuku's mother had passed and left him the estate, and knew more about the home than Izuku did, probably. More about the grounds, definitely.

Sometimes Izuku will sneak off with a good book to a quiet, untouched part of the garden, and some hours later would find flaming red eyes watching him from afar.

And, every time without fail, Izuku would find that 'hidden' part of the garden repaired the next day, in a way that he can sit comfortable in the sun for hours; fresh cushions placed upon marble benches, or grass beds cut low so that bugs can't hide in them.

Izuku can't help but be enamored with his ever-so-watchful groundskeeper.

"Would you like something to drink?" Izuku asks, quiet as if he doesn't want Katsuki to hear as he begins to walk away.

But he does hear. He turns, broad shoulders relaxing, and his eyes go dark and lidded as he appraises Izuku again.

Katsuki steps forward. The window is just low enough that he can cross his arms atop the sill and lean his head in.

"And what are you offering?"

Izuku laughs, high pitched and for too long. Katsuki watches him the entire while, and Izuku is sure his face goes red like the chopped up strawberries on his plate.

"Just… j-just a moment."

Izuku jumps up, and the stool teeters on one leg. He catches it midfall, and Katsuki's laugh is like liquid gold being poured over him, like he was a gilded ornament made to be strung up onto a glass chandelier.

He shivers as Katsuki's smooth, enticing voice calls after him, "Water's fine."

Izuku chooses his favorite glass to fill with the pitcher of water he keeps in the fridge. It's ice-cold, freezing against his clammy palms, so he doesn't bother with actual ice.

Instead, he fills it to the brim and takes carefully measured steps back to the door so that he can present it to his groundskeeper.

The glass is engraved, designed with a pale bird midflight, air jets circling down across the glass until the eye follows where it's near landing in its nest.

It reminds Izuku of the summer he had found a baby bird at the base of a tree, long ago. He was still a kid, and had cried and cried at the thought of it being stuck there until its parent got back.

He'd cried harder when he ended up stuck in the tree himself trying to put it back, too scared of heights.

Katsuki hadn't yet been hired then, but… it was a good memory despite everything. Sometimes, now, Izuku imagines if Katsuki had been there. If he would have helped Izuku down, laughing and teasing him all the while.

Izuku minutely shakes his head, both to clear it and to admonish himself. They were barely friends, after all.

"Here you go…" He murmurs, shooing the stool away with his foot so that he can lean out and place the cup directly in Katsuki's palms.

"Thank you, young master." Katsuki's voice is completely teasing as he says it, low and rough like a bass instrument being tuned.

Their fingers brush.

Izuku holds his breath as the pads of Katsuki's fingertips feel against the jut of knuckles. Neither of them move for a moment, the glass of water hanging between in limbo as neither grabs and neither lets go.

Katsuki purposefully lifts his other hand, eyes staring Izuku down to his unbreathing core. Then, he places it against the back of Izuku's. His thumb rubs a soft circle across the skin, softer compared to his own, and Izuku breathes in so sharp that his lung protests with a sharp pain.

Izuku pulls away first, with a cough.

They'd never really touched hands before. Never touched anything before, not even in passing brushes or accidental stumbles.

It was always as if the air between them was thick, impermeable. Not solid like brick, but thick like water waves, and Izuku couldn't read the tide well enough to breach the surface.

Izuku so desperately wanted to break through, and hold Katsuki tight. To promise him the world and the moon and the stars, and actually get them for him if he so wished.

But Izuku couldn't ask that of him, not when there was a very real chance of him saying no.

Katsuki's livelihood relied on their relationship, after all. He had to stay atleast somewhat cordial with his master if he wanted to get paid. Izuku was sure he thought that way, which is why he teased and darted away.

If Izuku were a better person, he'd make it so Katsuki wouldn't have to do that song and dance. Make it so he could come and go as he pleased without worry of Izuku— or give him all the money Izuku had just so he could choose his own path.

But Izuku was selfish.

And that touch, the simple brush of rough skin against skin… He couldn't let it go. Izuku would still keep him, pay him double even, if Katsuki said he hated his guts.

Katsuki laughs again, at the way Izuku jerks away. Just once, even quieter than before. And then he drinks.

His head tips back as he swallows down the water greedily, throat bobbing with each heavy gulp. Izuku watches as a drop slips past the curve of his lip and paints his neck translucent.

It trails lower, following the swell of his neck and briefly getting caught at the clavicle and pooling there. Katsuki shifts, breathing in a deep breath, and it journeys further, dipping lower and lower still.

Izuku jerks his head away before he gets hypnotized past the point of no return, eyes darting away from the shirtless groundskeeper.

The glass makes a dull sound as Katsuki sets it on the windowsill, thoroughly emptied. It stays silent between them for a moment, until Izuku nervously licks his lips.

"Back to work?"

Katsuki tilts his head, leaning back against the windowsill. He shifts up onto his toes, just a few inches, and leans in far enough that the smell of him encompasses the entirety of Izuku's head. He swims in it, eyes fluttering shut briefly before he forces them back open.

Katsuki angles close enough that the ends of his hair tickle at Izuku's forehead. Izuku tips forward, subconsciously, to chase the enticing feel.

Like this, the sun is entirely blocked, light let in only by the glass window. The colors, reds and blues and greens, overlay across Katsuki's face until he's like an oil painting come to life.

Izuku traces the shapeless shapes with his eyes, losing himself between the shadows cast across Katsuki's face and the curve of his lips.

Katsuki calls his attention back by grinning, clicking his tongue, and dropping back on his heels.

"See you around, young master."

Then, Katsuki stalks away. He stops briefly to pick up his shovel, hooking his foregone shirt over his shoulder, and then disappears around the corner in the blink of an eye.

Forgotten condensation rolls down the bird-engraved glass. A real bird sings in the distance, far beyond the treeline.

Izuku doesn't know what to do with himself in the aftermath.

His hands shake, just a bit, and he holds them close to his belly to get them to calm. And, just like he can't stop them from trembling, he can't stop the smile lighting up across his mouth.

Katsuki smells of lemongrass and honey. Sharp and sweet.

Izuku closes the window so that it stays with him a few moments longer.

---

Izuku lays himself across freshly trimmed grass, unworried at how his crisp, fresh shirt will stain. He has ever many more in his closet to romp around in, after all.

Instead, he worries about the book in his hands. The pages are small against his palms, and the spine is well worn. It's a favorite of his, and has been for many years.

He settles down into the piece of earth laid out for him that afternoon, rolling onto his belly so that he can lay the book flat, and hums happily to himself as the words wash over him.

Katsuki watches him from the house. He's settled atop the roof, just having finished repairing a few thatches and cleaning out the gutters. After he washed up, he'd take his lunch break and spend the hour or two keenly examining his mental picture of the young master, as he always does in his downtime at work.

Izuku is unaware of the eyes he has on him, by the way he twists in the grass and lets his shirt get untucked from his pants.

Katsuki has a perfect view of the strip of skin that gets exposed to the summer heat, and watches as Izuku idly fiddles with the hem, as if he's ready to take the entire thing off.

He's in a quiet part of the garden, in the small backyard rather than the vast front. He's all but surrounded by flowering shrubs and trees and dandelions that he refuses to let the gardeners get rid of. He loved to lounge on boring days and blow their white tuffs out across the landscape, to encourage more to grow.

Katsuki rolls his eyes at the thought. He'd be the one who had to deal with the shitty flowers, but it wasn't his estate. So he'd let the young master do what he pleased without fuss.

Katsuki settles back against the roof, leaning against one of the crown of the chimney spire that juts out of it.

He rests his head against his palm and watches as Izuku laughs out loud to himself and rolls onto his side, taking his book with him. His face is buried so far down in the pages that the ink might as well be staining his nose and freckles.

The pages have been rebound with leather, to keep them all together after the many years of love they've received from their owner. Katsuki feels his jaw tense for a moment, idly caught between wanting to tear it apart and replace it with himself in Izuku's hands, or turning away.

How idiotic, to be jealous of paper.

Izuku had a gentle touch, though.

Though he was rough on his hands, always nicking and grazing them with stupid actions, he was ever so gentle. He could cup an egg in his palms and go tumbling down a mountain, and the egg would be in better shape than it was before.

It was so strange, too. Despite his beansprout attitude, Izuku was a full-course meal. Strong around the middle with expansive shoulders. Large hands, strong thighs.

Though he was older than Katsuki by a handful of years, he still acted like a baby lamb, just barely taken from its mother's breast. It was astounding to watch, really.

Especially when the lambskin shed and he became a wolf. Not to say Izuku was dangerous— would always and forever be the furthest thing from that— but rather… fierce. Headstrong. Stubborn as a fucking ox and impulsive like a long-horned goat.

(Katsuki snickers, imagining a green-haired, fuzzy goat animal like that. What a sight his young master would be, if he were anything else but human.)

If Izuku got an idea in his mind, it'd be a hard-pressed ordeal to knock sense into him. Katsuki was the only one willing to try, it sometimes seems.

Yeah, well. Katsuki was never one to turn down a challenge. Not one like that, anyway.

Izuku may now own the lands, but the grounds were Katsuki's. Had been urged up by his fingers and conquered solidly by his will. Not a thing happened on this estate without his say-so, inside and out if he were being honest.

If Izuku were less stubborn, or Katsuki more nefarious… it'd probably be a problem. But Izuku was an alright master of the manor.

Was… kinder than Katsuki deserved, half of the time.

So Katsuki would treat him kind back, from the shadows. Where he belonged, as servant to his young master.

That was all he would ever be.

Because despite the way Izuku ogled him and let Katsuki get in his space, he'd never once reciprocated the advances. Never tried to get closer beyond passing by in the halls.

The closest they'd ever gotten was Izuku ducking out of the way as some extras carried furniture from one end of the estate to the other, accidentally breaching into Katsuki's personal bubble in the process.

They didn't even touch, then, but it haunted Katsuki even now— the feel of Izuku's body heat breeching against his own.

They were always orbiting one another, but never in the same galaxy. Katsuki was waiting for Izuku to reach for him, but was too stubborn to reach out first.

And he was too selfish to let Izuku go.

To quit and let him find another man to tend the grounds of his estate. To leave and let Izuku be swept up in whatever mess he did, and not care because his beautiful, fucking stubborn, eyes weren't on him anymore.

If Katsuki were a better person, maybe.

Katsuki stands up straight, tongue sour and heavy like lead in his mouth. It was time to be done with his daily glare at the estate owner.

He sighs, stretching his arms high above his head.

Izuku sits up, partially drawn by the motion in his periphery, but mostly from whatever is happening in his book. He gasps outwardly, soft but audible even from where Katsuki sits on the roof, and that is enough to startle the wildlife.

Butterflies burst from a small shrub to Izuku's front. A plethora of them, mostly in one color— must all have been from the same brood. They cyclone out of the greenery, and then lazily drift through the open air to find a new place to rest and eat at the flowers.

Katsuki growls beneath his breath at the sight of them, thinking only of the many larvae he'll have to cull lest they get an infestation all over.

That thought process stutters, though, when the young master gasps again and jumps to his feet to watch the cacophony of colors class across the clouded sky.

It's as if he'd never seen color before, with the way he drops his precious book to step into the mass of wings. Katsuki settles his chin across his hands, hugging his chin back against his palm to watch all over again.

Izuku holds his fingers out to the bugs that want nothing to do with them. They leave a wide berth around him as they flutter up towards the trees, etching an Izuku-shaped hole in their swarm.

Izuku pouts when not a one stays to give him butterfly kisses. His nose scrunches up as he does, lips soft-looking and plush as he juts the bottom one out.

Katsuki snorts and, once the last butterfly has gone to find a new branch to perch on, turns to get back to work.

---

It's been a number of days since their last significant contact, but Katsuki is (as always) a beautiful sight; resplendent even in the shade of the oak tree.

Izuku isn't sure, exactly, what excuse he could have for being out there at that moment, other than just wanting to see Katsuki in the sunlight and the shade. He was stunning.

And, at the moment, he was between tasks. As he seemed to be more frequently these days, when Izuku would sneak out of his own house and sit in the grass for no reason at all.

For that reason, Izuku was avoiding eye contact with the imposing figure he created. Even relaxed, lounging in shade as he waited for the sun to go past its apex, Katsuki was sharp like a poisoned dagger, but sweet as though he was dipped in honey.

He was alone, too.

Not that Izuku had many hired help, but generally Katsuki was barking orders at them because their work wasn't up to his standards. And, even though Izuku often had to convince him to take it easy on them, he did appreciate the effort.

Izuku could see it clearly in the cut of the landscape and the shine of his estate. Not a brick was chipped, not a hedge overgrown. Katsuki worked hard.

He deserved the break.

Izuku watched as he lifted his hands behind his head and settled against the oak tree's trunk. The bark must be uncomfortable against his skin, but he doesn't seem to mind as he lets his sweat and the shade cool him off.

And though the shade is thick, wisps of sunlight still filter through. Everywhere it touches seems to turn his skin to gold. Everything about him is magnificent, from the hard curve of his workers' muscles, to the soft of his eyelashes.

"Your stare is heavier than fuckin' lead, Deku."

Izuku startles and turns away as Katsuki squints his eyes open all of a sudden.

He feels his face go red and getting caught so easily, so soon.

There's a shift of clothing and grass, and then Katsuki stands and stretches. Izuku pointedly doesn't look his way at the soft sounds, even as something blooms deep in his tummy. Almost like the flutter of the butterflies from the few days prior, it was like he was being swarmed.

They weren't incredibly close together; Katsuki under a tree, and Izuku closer to the middle of the yard. Still, it's close enough that Izuku can feel him move without seeing.

He was coming closer.

Izuku glances up as Katsuki stops in front of him, arms loosely crossing. He has an intense look on his face, that would be stinging sharp if Izuku hadn't gotten to know Katsuki's mannerisms by now, over the years.

He's pleased. His eyes sparkle with a tinge of mirth and his lips are just barely traced with a hint of a smirk.

"Somethin' I can do for you, young master?"

Katsuki squats, slow so that he can get in Izuku's face, and the latter loses himself in the motion. His eyes dart all across the twists of Katsuki's body, as if it were being offered to him, before he catches himself and looks up at the bright sky instead.

Izuku breathes in deep. Shyly says, "Sorry…" even as he smiles.

Katsuki tilts his head.

He eyes the way Izuku's shirt, half open from the chest down, reveals the way his blush has painted across the skin of his pecs. Tilts his eyes lower to watch Izuku squeeze his thighs nervously, tensing them in the tight material of his silken pants.

"How long are we gonna keep playing this game, Izuku?"

Oh how the sound of his given name from Katsuki's lips is like a gift from the heavens. Would it be too much to hear it again, Izuku dazedly wonders as Katsuki stands straight.

He openly gapes as Katsuki watches him over his shoulder, stalking across the yard to finish up his job of the hour.

Katsuki laughs to himself as he feels Izuku's eyes on him the entire time. Always, he felt those eyes on him— sweeping across Katsuki like he held the secrets of the universe beneath his sternum.

It was a rush. A luxury that half of him felt he deserved and that the other half desperately worked for.

He shoves his boot against the head of his rake, digging it as deep as it can go in the earth. Izuku hadn't requested this but Katsuki was building him long rows of sunflowers to outline the sidewalk.

How presumptuous for him to not even consult his master before he changes the makeup of his yard, right?

But this spot was in perfect view from Izuku's bedroom. In the mornings, when the light was low on this side of the house, the sunflowers would remind him of everything good in the world.

And, after the sun has risen higher in the sky and painted the ground yellow and bright, the sunflowers might just make Izuku think of Katsuki. Was it selfish to want Izuku to think of him always?

It wasn't much off from what already happened.

Though Katsuki has already gotten into the rhythm of sowing the ground, Izuku's eyes have not left him. Katsuki can see him in the same position as before, legs curled beneath him and palms flat against the earth. His reflections in the rakes and shovels are warped, but it's still him, watching Katsuki.

Every so often, under the pretense of taking a breather, Katsuki will lift his head up and watch how Izuku's eyes crinkle at the corners as he unwittingly smiles. Watches how he blushes deep and red when Katsuki stretches a crick out of his neck and groans purposefully loud.

Sweat pools down his bare back and Katsuki doesn't have to glance up to know Izuku is following the trails they daub across the small curve at the base of his spine.

Katsuki finishes the first few rows where the seeds would need to be planted, and still Izuku has done nothing more than stare.

Katsuki wants to hold him.

A breeze dances between them, curling around their bodies and urging them closer.

Katsuki contemplates resisting for a moment, thinking first of the work he has to get done today. Second of the chance that Izuku may just be content in ogling and not actually feeling him. If maybe he was risking it all on an inkling, a hope, a dream.

He doesn't think of anything third, because Izuku perks up when Katsuki turns to him, handsome face melting from a pleased smile to an enamored, open-mouthed gaze.

Never before had Izuku seen Katsuki look like that before; never so vulnerable than he looked in that moment. His eyes were awash with want, and they were focused only on Izuku.

They both seem to hypnotize one another, all at once.

Katsuki steps forward, hesitant as the shovel lands soft in the dirt, and Izuku shifts a leg beneath him to stand.

They move together, closer.

How desperately selfish they were, to do this to the other.

Izuku shoves hair from his face, wavy like layered grooves in a cliffside or rivers cutting through a forest like a new wonder of the world. Would Katsuki want to see the world with him?

Katsuki holds his hand out to him, hands rugged and cut and harsh. But gentle, for once offering everything he could. Would Izuku be content with a rough hand such as this, holding his close?

The wind picks up and pushes them closer.

They meet in the middle.

The yard is completely open, to both the air and the stare of any help that might be watching. Katsuki doesn't care, and neither does Izuku. Not when they touch, skin to skin.

First a little, like the spill of a cup, and then a lot: like a tsunami.

Katsuki crashes his full body against Izuku and drags him down to the earth, toppling him down down down like a dragon taking out a mountain. Izuku flops to the grass with hardly a sound beyond tinkling laughter.

"Kacchan," Izuku sighs, voice strumming across Katsuki like gentle chords from an old guitar.

"Deku," Katsuki responds, straddling Izuku's waist. Their fingers are weaved tight together, like yarn in a mitten, and he squeezes down when Izuku murmurs something soft and sweet beneath his breath.

"Is this okay?" Izuku asks, as if he wasn't shoved down flat by his groundskeeper and about to be ravished like a meal for a starving man. Katsuki desperately wants to know how he tastes.

"You hold the power, young master." As always, the title is a joke, a tease. This time it was a plea, too. Katsuki lifts their joined palms and presses the back of Izuku's to his mouth as he says, "My life is in your hands."

The words wound Izuku, accidentally. If he were a better person…

Izuku's fingers loosen, but not to pull away.

Katsuki kisses them as they go, and then sucks in a breath when Izuku presses them to Katsuki's jaw and pulls him in close. He holds all of Katsuki in the palm of his hands, and he treats him gently like Katsuki always knew he would.

"Katsuki." Izuku whispers his name like a promise and the world's sweetest curse. There wasn't much that Katsuki could offer to Izuku beyond his body and his work, but he would promise it all just for him to say his name like that again.

Izuku nods encouragingly when Katsuki begins to thumb at the few buttons still done in his shirt. Katsuki was already shirtless, always was when Izuku was around.

Still, the motion of trust leaves his heart feeling thick and syrupy inside, sticking to his ribs with every beat of it. His lover trembles as Katsuki kisses across where Izuku's own hides, peeling the shirt off of him and offering him up to the sunlight.

As more and more of his skin gets revealed with each button that gets unlatched, Katsuki falls deeper in love with him.

Izuku is broad all over. His chest is wide and full, and his belly is stout and strong. His shoulders are broad as ever, and if he were ever anything but soft, he'd be imposing. Now, he's water in Katsuki's hands— or clay, ready and waiting to be lovingly shaped by him.

Izuku shivers when he swipes his fingers across the thick of his skin. He's covered in hair, dark but thin and soft. Katsuki likes the feel of it against his knuckles, and then against his chin when he leans down, briefly, to hear how his heart beats in his chest.

Izuku lets him do as he will, encouraging by the hand cradling the back of Katsuki's head. He keeps him close, desperate and clinging, but lets Katsuki explore at his own pace.

He stops breathing when Katsuki kisses at his neck, teeth nibbling at the heartbeat felt through his veins there. And he starts breathing again, deeper, when Katsuki whispers his name: "Izuku."

Katsuki thumbs at the hair sprouting from Izuku's chin, rubbing across the stubbly hairs until he's satisfied. Then he presses a kiss to it, the curve of his chin. Izuku whimpers, almost, or moans maybe. It all gets lost in the loud silence of his own head, focused on Katsuki and Katsuki alone.

Freckles dot his young master all over, carefully placed in each inch of his skin as if the painter of life wanted to be sure they were appreciated. Katsuki appreciates them happily, lips grazing them over and over and over again.

They arc all the way across Izuku's breast until they get hidden from sight by the shirt still wrapped around Izuku's arms and back.

Katsuki lets them hide away, and promises himself to give them as much attention as Izuku can stand, later.

Instead, Katsuki wants to kiss him. Wants to brush their lips together and feel the tingle of it echo across his skin, and he wants to see how Izuku would react to it. Would he still blush pretty and coyly twist away, or would his eyes go wide like he wanted more?

Katsuki has to shove his knee against the grass to get high enough again, and Izuku grunts as the weight of Katsuki comes to rest flat against his chest. His hand, at the back of Katsuki's neck, tightens briefly to keep both of them steady, and the other only idly squeezes at Katsuki's wrist when they settle in their new position.

He's waiting, breathless from the way Katsuki laved love across his skin moments prior.

His lips part when Katsuki stares at them, and he bites his lip when Katsuki doesn't instantly give him what he wants.

So, Katsuki kisses him.

For Izuku, it's like everything he'd ever dreamed. He feels like he's drowning in stardust, or like Katsuki was reaching into him deep inside and tying their souls together. It's only a kiss, but… it's everything.

It's a chaste kiss, lips against lips and barely anything more. Izuku fleetingly opens his mouth to gasp, and their tongues hardly brush before Katsuki pulls away.

For once, he's blushing in the way he makes Izuku blush every day. Instead of like gold, he's like the blooming peonies in the garden, fragile and soft and oh so beautiful.

Izuku pulls him back for another kiss. And another, and another, until they're drunk off the taste of one another. It's overwhelming and addicting, finally doing this.

Neither of them can ever go back to being the same after this. No more uncertain glances or wistful stares from the shadows.

No, now they get something better.

They get to have each other.

---

"I've never kissed anyone before," Izuku admits, softly against the curve of Katsuki's cheek when they end up just holding one another in the soft grass. The hurricane of their want passed, but who could say if it was over or if they were just in the eye of the storm.

They're twined together, face pressed to face and chest pressed to chest. Izuku can feel Katsuki's rumble when he laughs and speaks, and it's more than Izuku ever imagined.

"Mm. Me neither."

Katsuki tilts his head back to watch as Izuku hides his smile away. Katsuki brushes hair from his face so he can see it anyway.

"Guess we'll be teaching each other, hm?"

Izuku wraps his arm tight across Katsuki's chest to hold him close, as he'd always longed to do. Katsuki feels himself melt the embrace, and presses his lips to the tip of Izuku's nose just to look him directly in the eye, just as he's always wanted.

Maybe they weren't so selfish after all.

---

ao3 link

#bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #boku no hero academia #fanfic #long post #writing tag

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spookymultimedia · 3 years

Text

A Summer to Remember ch 6 [fin]

[Helen pov]

I ran after him, rocks shifting under my feet. He stopped at a gravel road, leading to the cabin, leaning against a tree and looking at the ground.

"Timothy. . .I understand if you're mad. I'm mad at myself. I wasn't thinking. I still love you. I mean it." My voice shook.

"I'm confused . . ." He said calmly,

" but I don't blame you. I'm not that upset really, I understand, I mean-." He sighed trying to gather his thoughts. I stood there dripping. The warm heat and soggy humidity kept me from getting cold.

"You like her, huh?" He looked up at me. I nodded, "Alot, actually."

He smiled. I didn't expect him to smile. "She's great for you."

"You. . you think I should?"

"Maybe, I don't really care, well, mind" He shrugged. "If it makes you happy."

" But I can't leave you." I took his hand.

He thought for a moment, "Uh. . .isn't there this. . .thing where. Someone has multiple wives?"

I cocked my head confused.

"You know, that thing that. . .Mormons or Amish do? But like with a husband and a wife?"

"Polygamy?" I answered slowly. What was he getting at?

"Yeah, that but without the multiple wives thing."

". . .poly . .polyamory?"

"Yeah." He smiled, "that."

I shrugged, "I don't know, that takes a lot of work and communication."

". .but?"

"But I am considering it."

"Maybe bring it up to Maude?"

"Okay." I smiled. He hugged me despite me being all soaked and dirty.

"What about Ned?" I asked and let go.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him in a couple hours. I hope he's okay."

"You really care about him a lot don't you?"

He nodded bashfully, "Yeah. . .yeah I do."

"That's okay." She smiled.

He hid his mouth with his palm and looked away.

"Really it is." I insisted.

"This is all so new and . . . "

"I understand. . .I think I might be. .bisexual."

"Me too." He muttered.

"I mean you don't need to have multiple partners to be bisexual but that is something I'd like to try. . .I really really l like her."

"Oh. . . Okay."

"What?"

"I don't know, I just thought that you needed to be involved with both to be bisexual."

"No it's just, I could like men and women equally..like they're both hot. You know?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, I- I don't really feel that way at all."

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows confused.

"I just- I don't know, I just think everyone looks just ok. I mean I don't not think you're beautiful or anything. Because you are. You're cute. Just. I just don't know what hot is." He scratched his chin and looked away.

"Oh. . ." I was still confused. "Okay."

"I should really go look for Ned."

"Yeah. I'll go talk to Maude."

"Meet you later then." He smiled a bit and walked off.

"See ya!" I smiled back and ran back towards the lake.

[Ned pov]

I laid in bed hugging onto a pillow after I showered. I thought about what I said. The guilt was dull now but it was still there. I wished I hadn't said anything, I wish I could move on. I'd live without, but it would still hurt for a long while. I closed my eyes, listening to the birds and the windchimes Timothy made one summer. The air conditioner made a low hum, it was a bit peaceful. I could lay down and pretend nothing existed but the present. Nothing in the future matters now. There was only now, and now there were birds singing, a soft pillow under my head, a clean body, and chimes to accompany the birds music. No worry existed here. No concern. No stress. I didn't have to think about it now. I allowed myself to just be present and exist in that moment. I felt okay.

After half an hour my catnap was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, "It's me. Ned? Are you in there?"

"Yeah." I answered. I started to feel sick again. I opened the door and let him in.

"I've been looking all over for you. Are you alright? I'm sorry I pressured you like that, I should have realized that was still a sensitive subject for you. I didn't mean to put you in that uncomfortable situation." He rambled. It wasn't often I saw him ramble like this. I was usually the one who did the rambling and apologizing.

"Did I ruin everything?" I looked down at the floor.

"No. . .no of course not." He touched my arm. "Actually uh, I talked to Helen." He moved his hand back to his side.

He sat down on the bed and I did too.

"Yeah?"

"It turns out she and Maude really like each other."

"Oh. . .Tim, I'm sorry. ."

"What? No it's not like that, she actually wants to maybe start a. . . .polyamory"

"Oh? You mean. . . with you and her dating other people?"

He nodded. He looked down and chewed at his finger.

"Is. . .that a good thing?"

He nodded his head.

"I'm happy for her. I mean, she still needs to see how Maude feels about it."

"Oh."

"Ned I. . .I- I think I." He flapped around his hands in frustration and shut his eyes. I waited patiently. He took a deep breath. "I love you." His hands fidgeted at his shirt nervously.

Everything suddenly felt unreal. It was like time stopped. He felt the same way?

"Wow . ."

"Uh . .do you feel okay with me being with you and Helen?"

"I do feel a bit jealous of Helen sometimes. I'm sorry I must sound like a jerk." I looked away ashamed.

"It's okay to feel that way. . ."

"But I do want to try it out. I think it'll go away once I- . .I um." I blushed.

"Get your share?" He smirked.

"Something like that."

"I get it. Well, what do you want to do with me?" He played with the hair at his neck.

I suddenly felt shy.

"Uh . . .um. .uh. You want me to be honest?"

"Yes."

That was a loaded question. I didn't want to overshare. What if I make him uncomfortable??

"I really want to. . .kiss you . .and do some other sexual stuff." I looked away kinda embarrassed.

"Oooh." He sounded somewhat surprised. "You're allowed to feel that way." He smiled.

I looked at him, "Sooo. . .you're bisexual then?"

"Yeah. . .I think so? I mean I- I don't know. I'm a little confused about sexuality."

"It can be intimidating. It's so weird to suddenly just feel this desire and it's so new yet familiar and it's hard to shake off."

"Oh. . . ?"

I looked up at him, "I'm sorry are you uncomfortable?"

"Oh. No. .no. Just…..I don't know. I just don't feel sexual? I mean I want sex. Buy. Oh, I don't know. "

. "That's okay."

"So . . .you wanna do something?" I didn't want to sound needy. I was but I didn't want to sound that way.

"I honestly feel pretty tired right now. I just want to lay down. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay. I'm kinda tired too."

I laid down on my back and left room for him. He laid by my side and reached out his hand. I held my hand out and he felt it.

"I'm sorry. . ."

"Why?"

"I just. . . I- I have this issue with touching people sometimes. Like sometimes hugs are just too much or I just really don't want to shake hands with a stranger. It's uncomfortable."

"Oh. ."

"I'll be okay. I want to hold you. . .I just. I don't know if I can yet without getting overwhelmed?? I'm sorry it sounds silly."

"No, it doesn't."

"Okay, thank you."

"Mmhm" I smiled.

He gently held my hand and closed his eyes.

I did too. It was quiet, and it was okay again.

[Maude pov]

I waited at the shore feeling scared. What we did was impulsive but wild and free and nice. . . I never felt like that before. It was mind numbingly wonderful. I listened to waves crash while my mind was filled with nothing but dread. A selfish part of me hoped I could have her.

I was drawing hearts in the sand when I heard Helen.running up to me, "Maude!" She called, smiling. I stood up trying to get a better look. She suddenly hugged me.

"Helen! What's gotten into you?", I giggled out. I held onto her waist and grounded my feet before we toppled over. "It's wonderful, just wonderful, oh I love you so much. I love Timothy so much, oh my goodness I love you so much."

Timothy and me? Was there a compromise?

"What happened?"

She let me go and waved her fists, too excited to stay still.

"Me and Timothy talked things out. I told him I was sorry for my actions, he forgives me of course and he said he didn't blame me. So we decided to try out polyamory!" Her words were rushed.

"Polyamory? What's that?"

"Um. .well I think it's when you date multiple people or something like that. Of course everyone has to consent to the relationship and stuff. It's not Polygamy."

"I don't know what Polygamy is. So. . .you're saying we can date?"

"Yes! It's okay."

I hugged her, feeling happy, "I'm so relieved Helen."

I looked up at her. My happy Helen. Our happy Helen?? She was happy and loved and that's all I cared about at that moment. She placed a hand on my cheek and pecked my lips. I kissed her back. I couldn't help but cry. I felt so free. After being by her side for so long I feel honored to be hers. Her eyes widened after our kiss. "Ohh I didn't even tell you the other thing! Timothy likes Ned Flanders! Isn't that the sweetest thing? He's such a sweetheart."

Her hands rested on my shoulders as she spoke. I touched one of her hands and listened.

"So is he going to date him?"

"Well. . .Timothy doesn't like talking things so fast. He said he was going to talk to Ned. I think they'll be okay." She smiled. "I'm happy for him. Both of them. I think this will be good for them both."

"Me too." We spend the rest of the afternoon kissing and running through the water.

[Timothy pov]

After supper, the four of us sat around the outdoor campfire. Ned was making smores and showing me how he perfectly roasted them. "The trick is to keep every side evenly toasted. Nice and equal." I smiled. I liked how calculated his method was. He put in alot of care. When it was finished he gave it to me. They were warm and gooey. I smiled and wiggled a hand.

"Good?"

He nodded. I glanced over at Helen who was next to me. Maude was in her arms and Helen told her stories. Her eyes where glued to Helen's. They where a sweet couple. I liked seeing them happy. I nibbled at my treat and gently touched Ned's hand. We held hands. He smiled at me warmly. Helen stared at us smirking. I blushed and smiled, looking down at the fire. I stared into the it feeling happy and nervous. Everything felt okay and peaceful tonight, tomorrow would be a new chapter in our lives. There's lots that we still have to figure out, but as long as we have each other I think we'll be okay. I massaged my thumb onto Ned's palm and let him rest on my shoulder.

[Ned pov]

I sat at the edge of the lake alone, looking up at the stars. I had finished packing early and decided to go take one last gander at the water. The air was warm with a calm breeze. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky to block the view. Maude walked up to me and sat with me. "The weather is nice tonight."

"Yeah, it sure is."

We sat quietly. Crickets were singing to the beat of the water. The light breeze brushed against a bush. "Ned, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we never met? Would we end up in relationships we don't want anyway? Would we have figured out we're gay sooner?"

I thought for a while, and then shook my head slowly, "I don't know. .but I know that I don't regret meeting you. You're the best friend I could ever have."

She smiled. "You too."

[Maude pov]

Ned and I held hands and watched the stars glow on the water, knowing nothing would come between our friendship. The love our friendship had was just as deep as our respective love for Tim and Helen. I'd always have his back. I was ready to support him and Timothy through everything. It was a very deep friendship, maybe even deeper than most friendships where. Regardless of what our relationship was, it was strong and something beautiful.

The night felt yellow. Like, a happy warm yellow. I felt happy, we were all happy. I knew for certain this would be a summer to remember.

#the simpsons #the simpsons fanfic #reverend lovejoy #timothy lovejoy #ned flanders #maude flanders #helen lovejoy #flanjoy

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