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freshlyrage · 6 months

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Running Like Water

Chapter 18

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 7.8k

a/n: Hi sweethearts I've been awfully sick and still struggling but I managed to push this baby out of my melting body. So grab a snack, sit back and enjoy another New Orleans chapter.

Masterlist

Javier was at the receiving end of strange glances from guests and onlookers when he carried you over his shoulder into your room. Not caring a single bit, the second he inserted the rusty key and turned he flipped up your skirt exposing your decorated behind to the blast of the ac.

Turning his head to the tanned curve of your ass, taking a playful nibble at the soft skin there eliciting a ripping giggle and your nails clawing at the sides of him. Javier gives a deep laugh, he was so giddy he felt a bit embarrassed about it. A warmth spreading across his chest that grew so hot that it nearly collapsed into fear and trepidation.

This isn’t here forever, you’ll leave Javi. Like mother, like son.

Swallowing the splitting fear down he drops you lightly against the soft bed. Pretty hotel room, least of his concerns. There you are. Blushing through your tan like you’re just a girl with a crush, not like your his. He can’t tell if he hates or loves it. Mine, mine, you’re his. He leans over your body and closes the space to press a soft kiss against your mouth. It was your first time alone together, alone, alone as adults. Alone in general. He remembered in high school he had to come up with little white lies to be around you without alarming the others. Without the stern glance from his girlfriend.

Why don’t we invite Andrea?

And now you trap him, legs wrapped around his waist pulling him taut against you. So soft, you’ve always been so soft. The most delicate beautiful thing he’s ever touched, it startled him when you were this rough he was so afraid of hurting you.

Words that terrified him, rattled his bones sent… not a shiver-no-a piping hot burn down his spine, those scary words floated in his head when he kissed you like this.

And then he’s reminded of why he’s here. The office desks, the guns, the blood and the loneliness that awaits. What will I do when you leave? When you move on?

You don’t allow those thoughts to fester because like the feral little woman you are, you grind your laced cunt against his belly. Javi tugs your dress over your head, leaving you bare breasted and decorated below. A finger of his falling between you, pressing at the dampness of your gusset. Your cunt probably still swollen and used from earlier.

Earlier. He could come in his pants at the thought.

The sex in the car was one of the best he’s ever had, he was glad you came so fast because he nearly came the second you pressed into him. The first time he had your pretty cunt, last weekend, was an experience he could one day never get again. So he’ll have you over and over until you can't. And when you rode him in the small space of his car he truly never felt more fascinated, absolutely strung on you. Souls tied. Everything that followed blurring in his head and then-

You press your lips to his jaw, Javier drags his finger up your clothed cunt slow, slow, and back down with a few taps at the part where he knows is hallowed and leaking. “Had your cum leaking out of me baby—felt it. Can you feel it through my panties?” You whisper, airy and desperate. Your hips bucking wanting more, more, Javi please.

Javier’s chest clenches and in an instant he’s parting from you. The feeling of panic seeping into his veins, a rough hand passing down his face. Sobered at your words. You sit up instantly with that little worried pout, stop that, you should never be worried a day in your life.

Fuck, he had come in your earlier. He hadn’t thought twice, not asking if you—fuck.

He had taken a napkin and cleaned you as you dozed off. How had it not crossed his mind? He fucked you full of him and hadn’t batted an eye. You're sat up instantly, knees to your chest.

“Is everything okay?” The panic and embarrassment is stuck in his throat as he turns around to hide himself from your face, that face.

If Javi had been anyone else, if he wasn't suddenly a man built on stilts of fear, if he had known how to not fuck shit up at all times he wouldnt have done what he did next.

He snakes a nervous hand to the front of his pockets, fishing a cigarette and lighting it as he keeps his back facing you. At some point you and Javier switched roles in this whole thing, he was sure it was the moment he watched you in the bath last weekend. It was you that had been the rational one, full of fear, afraid of the consequences and afraid of what it meant to have each other and lose each other again. You had been the one to reject him at first, to resist. The second javier stepped foot near you after all these years sense went out the window.

But then he spent the night at your house, and he realized that you shoved aside all the fear you once had about this. And that quickly transferred to him.

He spent all of the week alone and thinking of you, wondering if you would see him off to Colombia, curious if you’d want to stay together while being two thousand miles apart. Passing the picture of you in a cap and gown after every blistering hot day in the sun with his father, he started picturing coming home after being in Colombia. Would you be married? Will his home still be yours? Will all he can get is snapshots of your life? Will this stay a secret forever, will he never be able to externalize what it feels like to not be with you?

So he’s scared, he’s afraid of being reckless and fucking things up and this was a fuck up.

In a moment of panic he blames you, “You should’ve gotten off of me.” He regretted instantly the way it sounded. Javier shuts his eyes the second he hears you back up on the bed.

“What?” You sounded physically wounded, he couldn't bear to look back. Is he already ruining your vacation?

“I was supposed to pull out–I leave soon. I'm not trying to make any mistakes.”

The silence freezes him, he almost turns to see your face, bracing himself for a reaction from you.

“Do you think I’m just waiting around here for you to get me pregnant or something?” You accuse, and Javier’s heart drops to his stomach at the word floating in the air. He couldn't tell you about the dream he had two nights ago. About in his rem he comes home and is handed an image of you pregnant with hands of another man at the swell of your belly. Javier woke up in a cold sweat, the closest he had been to heaving sobs since he was twelve.

He turns quickly, meeting your wet wide eyes as your knees cover your breasts. You looked impossibly small like this, he hated that his words had you curled in on yourself. But like all he knows, his voice coolly and coldly says, “That isn't what I’m saying.”

“Well it sure sounds like it.” You snap, good, reprimand me, “You may not be used to it but most women are on birth control, Jesus christ Javi!” You dig, you had thought it was so bizarre that Lorraine preferred taking emergency contraceptives than just getting an IUD or getting on the pill but you had some sort of hope that Javier also knew that not being protected wasn’t normal. Javi’s eyes drag over your bare body, lit up with goosebumps.

He hated being in the wrong, his gaze falling down to the carpet. “You could have told me.”

You inhaled a shaky breath, “I assumed you knew, you know considering you came in me and cleaned me after.”

An indisputable point, Javier nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette before inching towards the edge of the bed to sit. His back faced you once again, not wanting the smoke to hit your face.

The silence that hung in the room was thick enough to cut. Your presence spearing him, he thought of it all in that moment. His brain is circling with images of his mother, of the look on Chucho's face when he told him she wasn't coming back and he sees you, he sees your sad frown when you tell him that he has always been a person that leaves. He sees your face as you press a small palm against your growing tummy. Face bright under the gaze of someone else's love.

“I’m sorry.” Javi whispers. Lit cigarette dying slowly, it was hard to apologize. He owed a lot of people apologies and he sure as hell wasn't any good at them either. He could name on one hand how many times he had mustered up the courage to apologize. It came easier with you and he absolutely resented how many times those words had to be shared.

For a moment you're quiet, only the sounds of your slow breathing fill the space. Had you even been able to appreciate how lovely the room was, or had he ruined this for you two? Javier straightens up as his cigarette begins to burn out, he wipes his eye with the ball of his wrist not completely sure why apologizing for this small tiff had him so choked up. A small part of it was the realization that he hasn't changed much, he has lived 12 lives since he left in 1980 yet he remained the same hotheaded stubborn selfish lover, and you, you, so full of surprises and changes.

Your heart hasn't changed, not for him at least, Javier squeezed his eyes shut when he heard you crawling towards him. Your hands snake to the front of him, your bare chest pressing into his back, your face buried in his neck.

He didn’t deserve you, he realized, but he also decided at that moment to be gentle with himself because every small mistake and decision led you to him.

And when he felt the fan of your breath against him it all made sense. Javi remembers the poem engraved in the book his father gifted his mother when they got married. Pure your gentle name, Pure your fragile life. It says.

I love you in the purest, most desperate form. Javier thinks. How scary is that?

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “You were on the road for so long, you're probably just sleep deprived.”

“You don't have to make excuses for me. I want to be honest with you.”

You grumble against his neck, your hands scratching little patterns causing his stomach to dip at every scratch. “Go ahead.” You kiss his shoulder, in an instant burst of affection Javier grabs your hands from his stomach to wrap his own arms around your hug. effectively hugging his own body and your arms around him.

“I had a dream that you were pregnant.”

You giggle, “Okay…”

The room instantly felt ten times lighter, Javier finds his own lips quirking. He was hoping for a real serious moment here, for him to be open like you. The sound of your voice soothed whatever anxieties he felt approaching the room. “What's funny?”

You nose yourself into him again, “I just see where this is going and it's just funny to me because I've been on birth control since I was sixteen.”

Javi laughs too but it quickly dies when he figures he should know that. “Well, has it always worked?” He didn't know how to ask her these sorts of questions. What he wanted to ask was have you had a scare? What happens if July comes and you're pregnant? The questions felt far too fast to just ask out right, but he cant help himself from feeling so fucking scared at the thought. With Lorraine she told him outright how she felt about abortion, about kids, and condoms. He never had to ask. How do you have these sorts of conversations when you were so used to one way during your formative years?

“Once I had a scare in high school but that's all-but-Javi are you trying to ask me what would happen if I or we got pregnant?”

Javi cringed, he only called you his girlfriend for the first time today and his strange overthinking brain has already cornered him into an awkward conversation. At the same time his chest heats in some primal protective blaze at the sound of we before the word pregnant. “Would it be too much if I was?” He looked over his shoulder to meet your resting face on his. Your lips were pulled in a tiny frown like you were mustering up an answer.

“No. We promised to be more honest, these are… adult conversations.” You smirk. “Well, the likelihood of me getting pregnant is low but isn't zero you know… unless you also wear condoms.”

“Do you want me to?” He rushed.

“No.” You blurt just as fast which causes a small sense of pride warm his cheeks. “I mean… unless you sleep with someone else you shouldn't need to.”

Javier’s brows pull together, “Why would I? Are you?”

“God no.” You exhale like the thought made you stressed, “I don't know, I wouldn't be okay with it but-”

“You're my girlfriend. I wasn't just saying that earlier because it was easier for my coworkers to understand. I’m not seeing other people. We’re together.”

You giggle into his neck, “I know… I just wanted to hear you confirm it sorry.” Javier shakes his head, still his Andrea. “Anyway… you're leaving for Colombia. I couldn't do that to my baby, bring them into a world where their dad isn’t always around I mean. I mean look at me now, disobeying my mother to find my father.”

Javier feels a strange burn behind his eyes, the thought of you pregnant and alone rattling his bones. Just the rare hypothetical emotionally paralyzing him for a moment while he absorbs that information. “I wouldn't go to Colombia if you got pregnant.” He decided then. Obviously he hadn't thought about it much, but now that you two were being open he decided on that and he was sure as hell set in that way. He was far too young for a kid and he doubts this manifesting into reality but it's healthy to be transparent… it's not like he's been picturing a future with you since he was seventeen. “I’d stay.”

You pull him in tighter, your breasts pressed tight against his back. Letting silence play, he hadn't known how much those words meant to you in that moment. Your own chest swelling with affection at the thought of having your own family. “Hmmm, okay well don't get any ideas. I don't want kids for another 5 years.” You jest. Your eyes landing on the clock. Four pm. He’ll leave you in two hours. “Five years down the line if we somehow cross paths again after Colombia… I’m you know…”

Javier drops his head, if we somehow cross paths again. Will we be strangers in 3 years? Would this conversation be a passing memory you hide from your future husband? Have you considered a life with someone else? He hasn't.

Javi has to smack his own hand internally, they're too young. He’s seen what happens when a man pushes their desire to have a happy family onto a woman who isn't willing or ready.

“My mother only knew my father for six months until she was pregnant.” You stay quiet, “They dated briefly. It wasn't all that serious for her, she was my dads first everything so it wasn’t the same for him. It was the sixties so suddenly she was married and pregnant. Your mother knew my mother. Did you know that? My dad told me once that she used to buy from her boutique. Do you remember meeting her?”

“I don't think so Javi.” you whisper, “Tell me about her. Come tell me about her under the covers, you should relax before the meeting.” You squeeze his shoulder and let him go. Javi nods, just the back of his full head of hair signifying he agreed with you. Pulling off his boots, he turns to joining you in the bed. Once he's in your hold once again, warm, soft and comfortable he finds no nerves in continuing.

Her name was Jimena Valdez, or Jimena Peña depending on the year. She left everyone she knew behind in Mexico when she was 17, alone she entered Texas. A bartender, a beautiful woman, met Chucho. In the depths of the Chicano movement there Chucho was a ranchero since birth. Already a line split between the two, an involved community organizer standing at five foot two with a mouth set, ready to give her opinion. Tall and Thin, Flaca, they called her. And Chucho on the other line, a field worker with no interest in anything but purchasing a home for himself and maybe a future family. Javier’s father never got into the details of how they ended up together, he just said. “She was pretty so I asked her out.”

A progressive woman like that had no interest in being tied down at age 24 but in a town like Laredo, marrying Chucho was the best option. It wasn't like he was a bad partner by any means, he was actually perfect. Chucho believes that if they were older it could have worked out, but he was young and inexperienced, he got a taste of a good woman and she…

“Jimena was too vibrant for this place.”

bees, shadows, fire, snow, silence and foam

“You were really just the cutest chubby baby, your dad has shown me.” You smile, one image coming to mind. Javi in the sink of his home, his facefull of of snotty tears and a small fist in his mouth. You and Genie ooo’d and aw’d over the black and white picture years back. The face is still so distinctly Javi, that nose of his still on that chubby face. “Did your mother have a good labor?” You asked because you know your labor scared your mother, you added it to the list of reasons she resents you, it only took her 21 years for her to try again.

Javi’s hand twitched like it did when he was itching to smoke, you snuggle closer, settling yourself more comfortably on him so that if he never moves from here. He sighs, “My dad says she almost died, never got to do skin to skin with me. My father was the first person to hold me.” A melancholic air swarmed the two of you, you felt the sudden urge to see Chucho again, hug him, thank him for being a father to everyone around him. “She had the baby blues, experts call it postpartum depression now. No one even talks about it now so, ya tu sabes.”

You nod slowly, giving him another affirming squeeze. You were so proud of him you almost couldn't contain what you were feeling in your belly. He continues, “My dad still raised me while my mother was around. She started working two extra jobs a month postpartum, they didn't need the money but she tried her best to be away from home. She would come home so tired but despite all of that she still came over to kiss me goodnight. When she was around, she was a good mom.” Javier's voice has gone raspy, speaking his story in a low tone like there were other people in the room that didn't deserve to hear the story of his mother. “She’d take the palms of her hands and rub them really fast then touch my cheek before bed. She’d say, ¿Puedes sentir mi amor? She took all her things and left when I was thirteen. I’m not sure what changed.”

You hiccup a sob in your throat and you feel so ashamed to cry over his story. You hated to make him feel worse about himself but you couldn't help it, you cover your eyes in shame and he hurried next to you in bed to hold you tight against him. It was an amalgamation of the idea of someone you love so deeply being abandoned and the bitter feeling of what you search for in every corner. “Hey… It's okay”

Shaking your head quickly, “No, I'm sorry. You shouldn't be comforting me.” You pry yourself apart from his warm hold and instantly feel a gape in your chest, wanting to be close to him again. He feels it too, he pulls you back in and kisses the top of your hair.

“You and Frankie distracted me from a lot of loneliness. Did you know that?” He strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “My mom wasn't very known in town so when people asked me about her I just told them she left when I was much younger. I was going through a lot internally, everyone just saw me as Chucho’s moody rude little kid. You and your brother pulled out the good parts of me. Still do”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

You're in physical pain containing it, you couldn't keep this act up. This act like this is so casual, like a boyfriend is an accurate equivalent to what he is to you, like him asking you about children didn't have you contemplating for a moment if you two could really do this. This splitting agony, it's enough but you want to show him more. More life, more love, more, more, more days. Give us more days.

You jut your chin closer to his face, pressing a kiss to his open mouth. He mumbles your name against the desperate thing. His hand snaking into your hair at once, you bite down, down on his lip. His wrist twisting in your long locks and pulling your head back, the delicate tendons in your neck straining at his roughness.

Your face apart from his, you reach your hand behind your head to hold his fist in your hair. “What do you think you're doing, biting me like that?”

Your eyes narrow as your lips quirk into a small smirk, “I want a taste, be gentle.” You whisper, your free hand removing the hotel blankets from you, revealing your nearly nude body to the cold air of the room. His jaw tightens but obeys anyway, his fist loosening from your hair. You place two hands on his chest as you climb over to straddle his laying form. He watches you intently as you place your pretty curved ass directly on his erection and he is hard, painfully. Slipping your lip between your teeth as you roll your hips experimentally on it. He groans at that, he loved you this way, just in panties on his fully clothed body. He attempts to sit up, get a better grip of you but you slam him back down. “You have a really long and stressful meeting soon, let me help you.”

Javier’s brows furrow in frustration as you move his legs apart to make space for yourself.

Your tiny self of your knees, breasts perked up and practically begging to be wet by his tongue, you cup a hand on his strained jeans. Your little brows screwing in concern, “Baby… you’re so hard.” You lean forward, your so sensitive and so ignored nipples skimming the rough texture of his pants. Javier groans one from the back of his throat when you press your wet lips to the outline of his length through his clothes. Testing the width of it, pulling your hair to one shoulder as you make a wet spot on his pants with your spit.

Javi can't help it, he's leaking in his pants already, his large hand coming to cradle your head. “Been hard since you started talking about getting pregnant.” He admits and you moan against the denim, your ass wiggling against the ball of your heel for relief.

Parting with a small whimper, your fingers pull down his zipper. The prettiest set of wiry hair coming to view, no underwear of course. The base of his cock strained to contain the rest of him there. You press your nose there, at the mound of his hair leaving a sweet pouty kiss to his base, “Andrea… don’t be mean.” He groans and you hadn't planned on it until now. Your hand is not big enough to fully wrap him, so you release him.

His cock springs and hits the hem of his button down shirt, leaking already. You giggle at that, how desperate. Giving him no time to adjust to not being constrained you grab ahold of his aching cock, kissing the tip with an open mouth. “Do you think it'll fit in my mouth? Or should I try to just rub you for a little Javi?” You pout, you know you can fit it in your mouth but the reaction that comes from it makes all the pouting worthwhile. He shuts his eyes tight and his cock quite literally twitches in your hand.

He couldn't do this anymore, he sits up on his elbows and grabs ahold of his member, his hand dwarfing yours on the thing. “Open, stick out your tongue.” He demands through gritted teeth, god you feel yourself dripping on the bed. You open your mouth fully, sticking your tongue out and he gives you a devious smile. His mustache twitched at the slutty display in front of him. He taps his tip on the start of your tongue, the heavy weight of it sends your mind on a loop. His other hand pushes your hair away from your face, slapping the tip further on your tongue, feeding you his cock little by little. Deeper, then retracted to spread his pre-cum on your lips. “You can take it, desperate for my cock in your mouth, querida?”

You nod, taking a hold of him again and going for it, sliding him deep in your hot little mouth. Earning a grunt from him, your lips offering a perfect slip. Javi can't see straight at the feeling of your tongue hot against him, swirling and collecting drool at your mouth and around him. Your pretty wet brown eyes meeting his, brows screwed and focused, hoping this felt good for him. Your hand wrapping at his base, collecting all what's dripping to aid your hand. “That's it, look at me baby.” You flit your gaze up at him again, he lets out a sound not so short of dying.

Bracing yourself, you lean further, your hair pooling around your mouth connecting to his length. Taking him deep in the back of your throat, your nose nestling at the hair just above his base and your chin hitting his balls. You hold there, breathing through your nose until it's too much. A moan rips through Javier’s body when you pull back to breath with a wet pop, “Jesus fucking-baby.” He quickly moves the pads of his thumbs under your crying eyes, “Where did you learn to do that?”

Your frown, “Saved my tricks for you.” Hand moving back down to stroke him but he stops you. His hands grabbing you from under your arms and manhandling you until you're on your belly.

Lifting your ass up-up and ripping your panties down around your thighs.

Without giving you time to register the change he feeds his aching heavy self into your fluttering cunt. “Javi–fuck. Too big.” You whine, the stretch so foreign in this angle, hands and knees. He took you over the counter but it isn't the same. You’re still sore from fucking him in his cramped car at dawn. He doesnt care, his hands take a good grab at your ass, fucking into you relentlessly. “Baby please… you're splitting me in two.” You whimper feeling so abused in the sweetest way possible.

He doesn't let up, the plea is a motivator and he slows, shocked with himself at how long he's lasting. You tighten around him and his own stomach dips, your pussy letting out squelching noises, god bless whoever is rooming next door. “Don’t complain, m’a perfect fit.” His pace speeds, “Gonna fill you–want you to keep me dripping out of you all day.” Javier leans over and bites at your shoulder. You're so close, your cunt throbbing and head getting airy. You babble his name, Javi please cum in me, please, please.

Javi is on a power trip, he has you bent over after you teasing his cock in your mouth. And it's just you two, alone, far from home. He never wanted to leave this room, stay in you, eyes fixated on how you split open for him. That tiny hole that shrinks when he's done. Maybe hes carried away because when his eyes switch to the tight untouched hole just above wheres fucking you, his stomach dips and he comes at the thought of fucking that little thing loose. “Fuck–Andrea, querida.” He folds over, his spent body still working to get you there too and you're not far behind, one last grind of his hips has you squirming and shrieking. Back arching further with a twitch and whimpering, you feel him drip down your already slick folds.

Your eyes full of pleasurable tears, Javi flips your body back on your back. Pressing down to kiss you, you hold him tight to you, a hand gripped in his hair keeping him close. Feeling awfully possessive after being fucked and filled. His kiss is just as sloppy and desperate, you have a small inkling that maybe he feels the same because he doesn't say another word, he just kisses your lips raw. Nipping and pecking, mumbling sweet nothings as he noses you. You can't help but grin against his lips at the rare display of intense affection. You two stay like that, intertwined and warm in each others hold.

“It’s six.”

Javi groans, “I’m going to quit my job.”

You roll your eyes and push his deadweight off of you. You hadn’t moved from the bed since he fucked you, although your sweet kisses turned to him lazily fingering you until you came all over his hands. Sitting up you feel the strain between your legs and the steady drip. Standing slowly your legs wobbled like a doe, eyes shutting in embarrassment before sitting back down. Javier lets out a throaty chuckle at the sight before getting up from the bed. “Don't tease me.” You snap.

He circles the edge of the bed before standing before you, his hands slightly pushing your shoulders. “I won't, stay in bed, I'll go shower.” Leaning down to kiss your forehead you wonder when the fuck did he get so domestic. You comply anyway, of course, he leaves a small smack on your behind as you get on your hands and knees to crawl to your side of the bed. A knock at the door has your hands rushing to the edge of the blankets, covering your bare body. Javier's eyes widen, zipping his pants up to cover the view of the base of him and the hair above. A sight that turned you on despite the slight discomfort between your legs. He strides to the door, out of your view but you hear the creak of its hinges.

“Hi Javier!” A soft voice calls, a woman's voice and you swear you're so ridiculous but your stomach dips in its own jealous way. Your brain jumps to its most irrational state, knowing Javier had slept with many of his female coworkers. It was probably why the two of you had such strange glances from his colleagues earlier. You bite on your lip, shifting in bed hoping whoever is at the door knows you're here, his girlfriend.

“Oh Gina…” Then the sound of a cheek kiss, your face warms. “How are you?”

Javier briefly looks over his shoulder, realizing its a lost cause he couldn't see you this way. Gina stands in front of him, a hand running through her long black hair. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the office. Javier felt a sense of pride for his goofy coworker who managed to pull someone like Gina. Javier had drunkenly asked her out on a date during a break with Lorraine and she had called him a baby, letting him down easy. He was burned at the moment but he appreciates it now because he wouldn't be here with you. Instead he'd drag another woman along his pathetic loop of secretly pining for you. She flashes her ring to him, its a shiny thing. Felipe, that bastard, made a significantly larger amount than Javier yearly.

“Honestly amazing, I heard that Felipe told you. ” She beams, retreating her hand to her side. Her eyes peering behind you.

Javier smiles, “Yes, congrats. He's a lucky man.” Feeling watched and uncomfortable with talking to any other woman other than you. What's gotten into him? Cant even have a friendly conversation with a woman. It's silent for a moment, she gives him an awkwards thin lipped smile before her lips cracking into a bashful smile. His brows furrow, “What?”

“Okay I hate to be nosy–but Felipe told me you came here with someone and I just wanted to… I don't know… extend out an invitation?” She exhales and crosses her arms. Javi’s brow arches.

“Invitation?” He knows he should tone it down, if you were next to him right now he is sure you would have pinched and murmured something about being nice. You don't know that everyone is used to his stern ways, viejo, they called him in the office. Next to his list of other names.

“Yes um,” She chuckles nervously, Javier is shocked you haven't walked over and slapped him for making the poor woman nervous. “The wives are getting drinks at the patio bar while you all have your meeting, so–well unless you wouldn't want her–” Javier quirks a brow again, “Sorry– I’m just inviting the girl for some drinks.”

“I'd love to.” You call, Javier turns watching you adjust your dress strap as you stalk towards them from the corner of the room. He couldn't help but smile at you padding over with a sweet smile, nothing short of innocence. As expected you pinch his bicep while you smile at Gina. “What time are you heading down?”

Gina’s smile widens at the sight of you too, “Oh wow, you're so beautiful. In an hour.”

Javier Looks between the two of you, watching your face light up at the complement. He should tell you that more, you absolutely shine at the gesture. Your cheeks are pink and shiny, “Oh gosh–thank you, I mean so are you. We should shower.” You look at Javi. His dick twitches at the suggestion.

His voice died with his croak of, “Of course.”

Gina giggled, “Yeah… I'll leave you to it.” She waves goodbye and exits.

Javier looks down at you with absolute adoration while you keep a pondering grin on your face. You keep an indolent smile while you walk back towards the bed. Javi follows, peeling off his shirt while you take off your dress again leaving nude. Your breasts littered with tiny red bruises, nipples still swollen and peaked. Padding over to luggage placed on the dresser by the porters, you bend over to unzip the thing. Giving him a full view of your puffy lips, glistening still from his own seed. If he didn't have places to be he’d bend you over full and eat you out like this until you collapsed. “She seems really sweet.” You let out a pleased murmur once you find your towel. Your smile deepening once you turn to catch Javier staring at you, on an ego trip of him enjoying the view, you brush your hair behind your shoulders to give him a better view of your chest.

He was absolutely obsessed with you.

“She is, you showering with me?” He unbuckles his pants again, matching your bare body. You blush at the sight of him naked, he’s half hard again at the concept of you still being shy around his naked body when you had him slapping his cock onto your tongue just an hour ago.

Your eyes are steady on his length but you resist, “Yes, no funny business. I'd like to be able to walk downstairs later.” You leave a small pat on his back as you make your way to the bathroom.

He follows like a lost puppy, he was hard but every thing you did turned him on so he couldnt be upset with you not wanting to fuck just yet. “Yes ma'am.”

You step up into the shower, leaving the glass door open for him. The bathroom was oddly pretty, tan mosaic tile lining up the floor, lights dim. The sound of pattering water fogging the room as he sets down his towel next to yours. You let out a moan once the water hits you, “I'll give you a hand job if you give me a neck rub. Fuck that car ride did a number on me, so did you fucking me doggy!” You shout over the water. Javi shakes his head and steps in.

The sight of you with your head back, dripping in water is better than any other thing his sinful eyes have ever laid eyes on.

“Deal.”

Javier attempts to figure whether or not having a DEA meeting in a hotel conference room could lead to a security breach or not. Blinking into oblivion his eyes strain at whatever they display on the projector. It’s standard procedure it seems, updating those in the states on the work that’s being done in Colombia. Graphic images of faces bloodied and bodies limp, images he’s become accustomed to with his grueling career choice.

He wonders if it’ll be different in person, if he’ll come back home shell shocked like he had been in Nam’. Javier scanned the room, noticing the pool of guests was much smaller than the cocktail hour a bit ago. He hadn’t realized that different departments had been separated into scattered conference rooms when his bathroom break turned him into a blushing mess when he opened the door to the presentation on the embassy’s clerical procedures. Thirty heads whipping to him, two of which being women he had slept with during his brief break with Lorraine.

Adjusting his tie and showing himself out he is met with Messina shutting off the projector.

“And please, refreshments were a pretty penny. Please eat before leaving. Thank You.”

Javier’s brows shoot high and he’s ready to turn on the heel of his boot and march out that door and back to you but Felipe gets ahold of his shoulder. “Nuh-uh. We’ve gotta talk.”

Javiers shuts his eyes in annoyance, desperate to see you again. He was very focused on his work of course but in the small snippets of information that felt useless he thought of the treat you gave him in the shower before he dressed to be here. He left while you dressed, distracted at how the corner of your eyes get red blotches after a hot shower. He didn't even get to see what you dressed for the bar. “I’ve got to see–”

“The pretty new girl you haven't bothered to tell us about.” Felipe finishes with a raised brow, Javier's shoulders sink. “You leave for a month and suddenly you have a girlfriend?” Felipe beckons over Samuel, Dorien, and Julian over for some classic office gossip. All of them, like little school girls. Javier wonders how most of them are ten years his senior. He rubs the bridge of his nose before grabbing Samuel’s drink from his hand.

“What exactly am I expected to say to you?”

Julian snorts and Javi wants to slap him across his face. He hadn't even gotten the opportunity to fester any anger for the comment he threw at you earlier because of your sweet short temper he loved dearly. Jesus christ.

Felipe shakes his head, “Listen… forgive me if I’m wrong but before… what… April, you were in a serious long term relationship that you never spoke to any of us about. We meet her one time and then you two split and you go on an office sex rampage for a month. You leave, and come back with a new girl who you introduce to us immediately. So what is it? She cousins with Brooke Shields?”

Javier’s eyes widened, flabbergasted at the attention to detail his co-worker seemed to gather. Javi couldn't tell you Felipe’s last name if you had a gun to his head, let alone know any details about his love life. Javi scans the faces of his other co-workers to see if they also think Felipe is a bit off his rocker, although all of their faces seem to be in a mixed state of Why are you looking at us like that and Answer, we want to know. His face drops when he realizes they are serious.

“You guys are serious.”

“As serious as a heart attack.”

Javier looks again pleadingly to his co-workers but he stands betrayed. Sighing he concedes, “Alright.”Julian cackles before taking a sip of his beer, Javier’s near smile fading at the display of enjoyment. “She isn't cousins with Brooke Shields. She’s someone I already have history with hence the… fast pace.” His lips thin before sipping from the drink he stole.

“You introduced Lorraine as your first and only girlfriend. That day she soiled my suit. Christmas 1984.” Julian sips again, hiding his smile.

“You did say that.” Felipe adds. Javier begins to grow more and more irritable. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about you, it was just the two of you seemed too complicated to casually explain after a two hour work meeting. It just wasn't that simple.

But fuck it.

“I’ve known Andrea most my life, when I left it was weirdly tense between us. I left for work but it just seemed like I left to start a life without her.” He admits.

There it is, that sting. Knowing you’ve been abandoned all your life, being the only person to hear you out and in turn leaving without a word. The guilt he feels coursing through his body at the thought is nearly unbearable, he needs to leave this conversation. He needs to go back home to you. His head jolts to the exit, seeing the first few people leave. He’ll tell them what they want to hear, he’ll give them drama and sneak his way to you. Meet you at the bar. “And she’s my best friends younger sister.”

Damien lets out a low toned whistle, all faces around Javi utterly horrified. Javi shrugged again, Felipe held his hands out waving them in exes. “Wait.. wait. Your what’s… who!?”

“My best friend Felix is Andrea’s brother and he doesn't know we’re here right now. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make sure she isn't tipsy and alone.” Javi smiles smugly, pushing past the stunned group bee-lining for the exit.

Rolling his neck and loosening his tie, he shrugs the second he reaches the bright lit hallway, striding toward the elevator to bring him to the pool side bar. It was almost thrilling to say it out loud, knowing none of those geezers knew about his complicated Laredo-home-life or the layered history of Andrea and Javi.

It almost made him feel bad in the best way, his stomach flipping with the urge to protectively take you over whatever piece of furniture you're closest to, mine and my business only. Lord it had only been three hours and he missed you so badly.

He taps the button again and again, watching the elevator countdown slowly from fourteen. What dickhead just took the damn elevator to the last floor?

“You don't get to just walk away like that, my girl is currently getting tipsy with yours.” Felipe’s voice rings from behind Javier. Javi slouches and accepts defeat, it's true, the two of you had the same exact destination. Javi liked Felipe the most but he was being awfully annoying today.

“Yeah yeah.” He waves him off, floor 9.

It's silent for a bit, the two men in suits stay quiet. Floor 7.

“So… were you just pulling my leg back there or–”

“It’s true. It’s complicated but yes, it's true.” Floor 5.

Felipe purses his lips in disbelief, “So it's more serious than Vaquero?” Floor 3.

Javi nods, “The most I think.” He admits without an ounce of guilt.

“And when you leave?” Ding.

The creaking golden door slides open revealing an empty mirrored elevator. Javi frowns, his face shifting that familiar mug he has in office, deep in contemplation and always so bored. But really it was just worry behind that furrowed brow, “We… go our separate ways I guess.” Until I come back, he thinks. He couldn't say it out loud because of how ridiculous it must sound but its his biggest wish. I’ll wait for you.

Felipe slow nods, digging his hands into his pocket. His eyes flitting everywhere but Javier’s face. The two stand side by side for several floors in stifle. “You know Gina and I get married in two weeks. Court house, nothing crazy.”

The knot between Javi’s brows grows deeper, “Congratulations” I miss you so badly.

“She wants a big wedding, I promised that but we had to do it this way so she can come with me to Colombia…” Javier expects the sentence to end but Felipe drags the end bit, thickening the air with his tone.

Is he?

“Are you–”

“It seems you love her enough to come back for her, why leave again?” Javier’s head snaps to turn to look at his colleague, words dead in his throat. “You do love her right?”

“Yes.” He would get that response out if it's the last thing he ever does, always yes, yes, yes. Since the two of you were kids, he loves you in an immeasurable way now.

“Well, you have an answer for making up for lost time. You're young you could mess it all up and marry six more times after but you know for now… The two of you seem to have some complex history you aren't willing to share. You've got a simple solution for whatever mess that's coming soon if you leave her.”

Javier’s eyes sting as the elevator dings on the 14th floor. A woman in red enters with a smile, sandwiching herself between Javi and Felipe..

The two men hadn't even pushed a button inside the elevator. Too distracted, ending up at a destination at the hands of another person's decision.

#fanfic #ao3 #javier peña x ofc #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier peña narcos #narcos #just trying this out lol

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blue-rose-soul · 2 months

Note

Love your au! You have so much interesting analysis and all your takes always feel really in character.

I was just curious, what would some of Lucifer’s bonding attempts look like? Would Nicaise—once she arrives— try to encourage Alastor to get to know Lucifer? Even if she doesn’t know the real relationship between herself and him?

Thank you so much! I'm glad you think so. I do try to keep true to the characters, but I worry I tend to be a little biased, so I appreciate you saying this.

(Forgive me, but I'm going to blabber a little bit before I properly answer your question.)

So, as I've been going along, I haven't really had a set timeline for the Devil's Bastard AU because I've mostly been thinking of scenarios and how things would go in response to the asks I've been receiving. As a result, the timeline for this AU has been kinda wibbly wobbly. At first, Alastor knew and he was keeping it a secret, then he didn't know but Lucifer figured it out. Then Nicaise became a real character in the AU and she got involved in events, and there was something about a dog...

As of now though, I'm getting a sense of how I'd actually like the timeline to go.

First being that nothing comes out until after the finale. Nicaise meeting Charlie in Heaven is sort of the catalyst for everything, but it's not until after she falls from Heaven that any secrets start coming out. Once it's known that Nicaise is Alastor's mother, and he makes the connection that Alastor was born later that same year, the gears in Lucifer's brain start turning and he starts wondering about the missing time from the night he and Nicaise met. That leads to him doing some digging on Nicaise's life, (my mental image is talking to someone he's on good terms with in Heaven who has access to records of mortals' lives on Earth), which in turn leads to him finding out that Alastor is in fact his kid.

I think once Lucifer finds out, there's no way for him to try bonding with Alastor without revealing that he's Alastor's dad, and once Nicaise learns that, it doesn't take her long to realize she's Alastor's mom. Even if Nicaise hadn't realized Alastor's on her son by her own at that point, she's able to piece together what happened based on what Lucifer's told her of their first meeting and Alastor's behavior towards her. So in any scenario where Nicaise sees Lucifer trying to connect with Alastor, she's already going to know the reason why.

(Okay, now to actually answer your question! Apologies for the word vomit.)

Lucifer definitely fumbles a lot when it comes to trying to form any kind of bond with Alastor. With Charlie, he seems to try to bond by showering her with gifts and offering to simply take care of her problems for her. It's a bit of a shallow foundation for a relationship, but Charlie at least seems to appreciate that he's trying, even if she's a bit uncomfortable with it and wants some actual support. But Alastor is proud, independent, and seems pretty uninterested in grandiose displays of wealth, preferring a more moderate lifestyle. If anything, Lucifer's attempts to bridge the gap by giving gifts would just be taken as him rubbing his power and wealth in Alastor's face. Alastor does compare Lucifer a lot to the man who kidnadopted him; a rich white man who had a fondness for champagne and caviar.

Nicaise's feelings on the matter are a bit complicated. As much as she likes Lucifer as a friend, she knows he's not really Alastor's parent at the end of the day. He didn't raise Alastor, didn't even know he had a second child until recently. She dresses both of them down when their behavior becomes unacceptable (insert a mental image of both of them on their knees with bowed heads while she's standing over them with her hands on her hips) but Nicaise isn't about to force her boy to see Lucifer as a father figure. Instead I see her telling them that as long as they're going to be under the same roof they're going to be civil whether they like it or not. (Cue Vaggie breathing a sigh of relief.)

Sadly, she doesn't really know Alastor either, not anymore. Not since Heaven took away her 'painful' memories. She knows she died when Alastor was still young so she encourages Lucifer to give Alastor space, "Let him come to you." It's a struggle for Lucifer because after his shutting himself off left his relationship with his wife and daughter so threadbare, it's hard not to feel like he's just giving up on his son. But over time they do reach a point where they can at least coexist in the same space. This is probably the real starting point for Lucifer and Alastor to form any kind of bond.

Of course, there's still the matter of whatever ulterior motives Alastor has for the hotel. The fact that his mother is now there... Is something he will have to figure out along the way.

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Alastor's mother #Nicaise (Hazbin Hotel OC)#Alastor #Lucifer Morningstar #I think once she knows the truth Nicaise will make Lucifer and Alastor sit with her on the couch and tell her stories about her life #Charlie gets involved because she loves sharing feelings and secrets and Nicaise likes her #Alastor realizes abruptly partway through that he's getting assimilated and starts looking for an exit route #also sorry for going on a tangent anon!

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missingcastle · 11 months

Text

Just a post on my Self-insert x Canon Jojo thoughts and how it would be. I ship my sona Bri with Jotaro and I don’t care. Warning: I do have a big age-gap and if it makes you uncomfortable oh well. Also this has some SO Spoilers. If you want to know: Keep reading.

First a summery of my sona, his and Jotaro’s relationship and just some context: Bri (short for Brioche) Male depending on the time of relationship between his mid twenties to early thirties Short and has a bit of aggressive “small dog” energy, will say that he will kill you but if he actually cares he would panic if you got hurt. Also can be a bit tame with his reaction but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Stand: Crisis Actor- The user is made of a rubber like substance which allows them to change their body at will. Bri will use it by changing into versions of other people , extend limps, and other small body modifications. He tends not to remember how people looks exactly so his full body transformations are always off. His relationship with Jotaro is odd as they meant when Jotaro had to come to Bri’s hometown to help the SWF. He was tasked to help with the unexpected rise of wild animals with stands due to a stand arrow being thrown into the lake (it’s more complicated trust me i’m still trying to make it 100% work). Also accidentally busting an “organization” that steals and sells artifacts to rich people. Along with Will ,Bri’s childhood friend, the teamed up unwillingly but got along after awhile. They had a few moments where they just got to talk and get to know each other and Bri to bully Jotaro out of his shell. Bri enjoys the feeling having Jotaro there as quiet but still caring presences, worries about his safety after seeing Jotaro throw himself in danger to protect him, and love his intelligence compared to Bri’s not stupid but sometimes single thought mind. Jotaro took longer to catch feelings but he started to appreciate that Bri cared enough to actually learn about him. He fines Bri caring and really likes that Bri enjoys just quiet hangouts, but also puts Jotaro in his place instead of letting him over power the relationship. Bri and Jotaro didn’t get together after this due to a few things (mostly on Jotaro’s end). A few years later after Pucci attempted to reset the universe, Jotaro has to come back to help get the arrows after the lake was drained. By now Jotaro is repairing his relationship with Jolyne, adopted Emporio, and he has the eye scar to prove it. Him coming back without all the weight and threat of other stand users, Bri and Jotaro have a chance to see if there’s still a connection. They talk, there is, and after a time of awkward long distance, they start to have a fun relationship together. Did I just info barf this whole plot line into some incoherent paragraph? Yes. Did it make me feel better? Yes. Will I do more with it? Maybe.

#Jjba #canon x sona #jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjbasona #jojo x oc #canon x oc

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

How to become a Demon Ruler 210

Part: 00 I 01 I 02 I 03 I 04 I 05 I 06 I 07 I 08 I 09 I

Gender Neutral Reader insert

taglist: @ayesha95 ; @nomnomcupcakesworld ; @fex-phoenix ; @depressed-bixch ; @kitsune-oji ; @witch-o-memes ; @gallantys ,@tanspostsblog ; @undertaker-02 ,

---------------------------------

At some point, I wake up. I hear the sounds of soft snoring beside me.

I laugh as I see Diavolo sprawled out on my bed, fast asleep.

I'm still a bit sluggish but I feel much better. It really must've been exhaustion that made me sick. I wonder how long I slept and carefully get out of bed. Tiptoeing around to not wake Diavolo. He looks kinda cute like this. It's hard not to poke his cheek when he is looking so peaceful.

I look at the clock and realize that my classes have already started. For a moment I panic when I see a note on the clock.

You are taking today off to get better.

I asked the brothers to bring you today's homework later.

-Diavolo

I smile at the poorly written note, he probably did it in the dark with only his phone light.

I suppose I should go and take a shower now. Even if I'm resting today I feel somewhat sticky.

Just when I'm about to turn around I see Diavolo opening his eyes. He looks at me with sleepy eyes.

"Good morning. You can keep lying. I will take a shower." Somehow this feels nice. Waking up like this, besides him.

"Good morning. Are you feeling better?" His voice sounds muffled, he must be still waking up.

"Yes, thanks to your great care I'm feeling much better." I show him an energetic smile.

"I'm glad." He smiles at me. "I guess I'm doing pretty okay for a big brother after all." He still seems to be half asleep but these words hurt more than I expected.

"You do." I press the words out. "I will take my shower now." I rush to the bathroom.

I'm a true fool after all. Not only can't I see Diavolo as my brother but my feelings for him only grow.

Then there is also the fight between him and Barbatos that troubles me greatly. Both of them are very important to me.

Liking two people like this at the same time is serious trouble. Especially since they both see me as master and sibling respectively.

What a mess. I could use some real advice.

I sigh and step into the shower. Trying to clear my head while cleaning my body.

It's refreshing and the thought of breakfast makes me forget my other troubles for now.

I dress and go back into my room.

Diavolo is sitting on my bed. He must need a long time to wake up. It's endearing somehow. I sigh at myself, I need to stop this.

"Ah, you are done. Breakfast came while you were away. Shall we eat together?" Diavolo stands up and walks to the already set table. It doesn't look like Barbatos work, it's somehow rather sloppily done.

"Of course, but why won't we eat in the normal room?" It seems a bit strange to me.

"Well, that is because I don't wish to see Barbatos right now. I had No. 2 serve us breakfast today." Diavolo is still hung up on what happened yesterday.

"You know that you have to see him eventually, right?" It seems somewhat childish to me, even when I understand how much this must've shaken Diavolo to his core.

"I know, but not now." He sighs and sits down at the table.

I shake my head, I need to help them to make up.

We both eat in relative silence.

Diavolo seems to have a lot on his mind and so do I.

After we are done he looks at me with a grave expression. "I fear that I have work to do."

I saw this coming. "I'm much better so you don't need to worry. I will just rest until I get my homework. I need to catch up on devil tube. Yesterday the demon brothers told me all about it." I gently reassure Diavolo.

"I'm glad to hear that. I will make sure the brothers will give you your homework and you promise that you will stay here." He looks at me pleading.

"I won't move. I promise." It's easy to agree with him since I'm still a bit tired after all.

Diavolo nods and pats my head. As nice as it feels he seems to think of me as a child or something of that nature.

It's frustrating.

"I will trust you. Get as much rest as you can. If you feel in any way off by the evening you will take tomorrow off as well." Diavolo is usually stern with me.

"Alright." I know he is only worried and so I agree.

This seems to relieve him a little bit at least.

Diavolo then looks at me one more time before returning to his duties.

I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through some comments under devil tube videos when I hear a knock on my door.

"Come in ," I yell.

The door is slowly opened and I see Barbatos peeking his head in. "I'm not sure if you wish to see me but I felt the need to apologize to you in person." He looks very pale like he didn't sleep at all.

"I want to see you, don't be silly and just for the records I don't blame you at all." I smile at him to strengthen my point.

Barbatos steps into my room, closing the door behind him. He has a cart with snacks and tea.

Probably his way of apologizing to me.

He slowly makes his way towards me. Then he pauses a good distance away from me as if being close to me would be a bother to me.

"It's my fault since I should have seen it. Not just because I should've been able to see that future but also because it was so obviously dangerous. I can't state enough how much I have failed you." His face looks like it's frozen or rather like he is in deep pain.

"Even if you were there you couldn't prevent any possible outcome. I mean there is always a small chance I die. Humans are fragile after all. I could slip on the bathroom or something. It's not possible for you to protect me 24/7 and to be honest, that wouldn’t be what I want. I need to do my own thing and I like to be alone too." I try to approach this from a logical angle.

"That might be true, but I always prevented any likely harm to you. I always tried to lead you down the path of least likely harm." Barbatos seems to have a hard time telling me this.

Now a few of his strange requests make sense.

"So you were saving me without me even knowing it? Thank you for that." It's very nice of him for sure.

Barbatos nods. "Sadly for some reason, my ability seems to weaken when it comes to you. I'm not sure why. Usually, nobody is capable of surprising me at all but you somehow always do." A short-lived smile appears on his face.

"I see but then you are even less to blame. No matter what you think I don't blame you at all." I can understand his guilt but I miss the old Barbatos.

"I appreciate the sentiment but honestly I was thinking of stepping down as your butler. I can't serve you properly." His face mirrors deep pain.

I also gasp at his words. "There is no way that I'm willing to accept this!" I raise my voice.

Barbatos seems to be taken aback. "But master, I cannot give you the full protection that you need. I failed you."He is serious.

I can't just let Barbatos quit. His duty is so important to him and he always works so hard to make me and Diavolo happy. Even when that also creates a gap between us.

"I can't stop you, but I will not accept another butler or maid to serve me." I look at him with determination.

"But Master, you need someone to serve you." Barbatos frowns.

I cross my arms. "Too bad, if I have to have a servant it can only be the best and that is you." I'm stubborn but I'm also right.

Barbatos sighs, he seems conflicted. "Even master Diavolo told me it would be better if I wouldn't come near you anymore." These words seem to hurt him.

"Diavolo is just very scared that this might happen again. I think it's easy enough to prevent though. And regardless of his feelings, my trust in you is unmoved." I voice my feelings for him.

the

Barbatos closes his eyes. There must be many things running through his head right now.

"Be honest, would you want anyone else to serve me?" I know his answer could hurt and I brace myself for that possibility.

Barbatos opens his eyes, they aren't wavering at all. "No." Then he pauses a moment. "I would not like that one bit. I believe I'm the best to serve you." His pride as a butler has not been broken at least.

I nod. "I feel the same way. Even if you can't see every possible future I want to keep you as my butler. I care deeply about you and there just can't be anyone else." I let my true feelings slip a little bit but it looks like my words reach him.

He smiles gently and steps closer. He kneels on the ground just before my bed. His eyes focus on me.

My cheeks grow hot. He is so close.

"May I keep being your butler despite my countless failings?" He asks in a very humble-sounding voice.

"You may, in fact, I order you to do so." I do my best-spoiled brat expression.

Barbatos then takes my hand and kisses the back of it. His lips feel cold but pleasant.

"I swear I will do whatever I can for you. Whatever order you give me will be fulfilled." Barbatos is earnest, this exchange is very intimate. I can feel the weight of his promise.

"I gladly accept you as my butler but don't forget that I also see you as a friend." And potentially more but I don't mention that part.

Barbatos nods and smiles softly. "Thank you for your kindness."

At least he seems more normal now, but the rift between him and Diavolo is still very much there. I need to think of a plan.

But first I want to eat the delicious snacks that Barbatos has brought me.

"Why don't you join me for some tea?" I feel like it's been forever since I saw him.

He looks a bit surprised for a moment. "Very well, I have some time for that." Then he smiles and prepares the table for us.

I slowly stand up and sit down across from him. The treats all look so good. "With what should I start?" I ask this more to myself.

"I recommend these fresh hell berry tarts, they are best when still slightly cold." Barbatos points to them.

They look very good. "Alright, I will start with them."I take one to my plate and take a bite. "Wow, you were not exaggerating. This is the best tart I ever had." I pretty much have stars in my eyes. It is that good.

Barbatos chuckles. "It was well worth the time I spent then."

"Did you see this in one of your visions too?" Now you wonder if all the food was so good because of that.

"No, as I said my ability isn't working on you and I'm quite confident in my skills. I was certain you would enjoy this. Even when I didn't expect you to love it this much." He smiles at me full of confidence.

I like this Barbatos much better. "I always love your food. I might become the avatar of gluttony at this point." I laugh.

"You still are far away from that plus it's good when you enjoy your food this much." He smiles gently.

"If I'm becoming fat you take responsibility." I tease him slightly.

He simply nods. "I will."

I didn't expect this straightforward

It's somehow embarrassing so I just continue eating to avoid that feeling.

Barbatos seems to just watch me the entire time. I'm about to complain about that when he suddenly touches my cheek.

My cheeks heat up instantly. It was just a light touch that didn't even last longer than a second but it still surprised me.

"You had some cream there." He smiles sheepishly at me and licks his finger.

This feels very intimate to me. "You should eat the tart instead of the cream on my face." I try to hide my ever-hot cheeks and ever-growing emotions.

"You are right but it might taste better this way." Barbatos nonchalantly takes a tart of his own.

"You are pretty cheeky sometimes." I mostly blurt this out, but it is true.

"Only to those close enough to me." Barbatos calmly looks at me after saying such words. My heart skips several beats.

I'm happy that he feels this way about me. Though it's still bugging me that he always manages to embarrass me. He isn't as bad as Diavolo in that regard but he is very troublesome in his own right.

Then suddenly I see an opportunity for payback.

I quickly seize my chance and wipe a bit of cream off his lip. His surprised face alone makes it all worth it.

He simply stares at me, mouth agape.

"You had some cream there." I smile and lick the cream off my finger.

Barbatos cheeks turn crimson, a full success. At least until I realize that this can count as an indirect kiss.

Now we are both embarrassed.

So I guess it ends in a tie today.

#demon ruler 101 #demon ruler 201 #omswd #om!#obey me fanfic #how to become a demon ruler #obey me diavolo #om! swd

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kissme-hs · 3 years

Text

Torn Strings.2

Author’s note: here’s the awaited part 2 of my previous writing. One thing I wanted to let you all know is that this one is based on my personal feelings. Yes, I am experiencing whatever I’m writing. So I’m trying to put as much emotions as I can in it. Hope you all enjoy. Feedback is appriciated very much.

~Ria

Part 1

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Harry styles

Warnings: 18+ smut, slight age gap, explicit language, fingering, oral sex giving and recieving.

Word count: 2.5k

————

“Are you a hoe?”

It’s been a almost a month since Harry slammed the teak wooden door. The loud thud still echoes in your mind of wandering thoughts. To be honest he isn’t the one to be blamed you fell in love. It’s just in his nature, his charm works it’s magic even on those who refused to once give in the feeling of love. That’s just who he is.

And you know, after how ended things last time you shouldn’t be going back to him but it is just the way it is.

So when you texted him on a Saturday evening a month after of no contact-asking if he’d like to hangout since he was back in the town, not too long ago past his sudden outburst he didn’t say no. Pretending forgetting like- anything furious ever happened he showed up on your doorstep dressed up in one of his black sweatpants and navy blue sweater looking completely different from how the world views him.

And ever since his visit, the circle started again. But this time things changed. He became careful of his actions, making sure to make a move that might end up backfiring on him developing even stronger feelings in your heart for him. He stopped replying to your texts, only messaging you when he wanted to. And other stuff that not only made your heart ache but question your worth, were you so unworthy of to be fallen in love with?

Despite the toxicity this relationship of yours with Harry brought in your life, there was no stopping. You tried going on dates to check your compatibility with other men but none of them turned out to be like Harry’s. All the men were absolute sweethearts, but you couldn’t find the one that made you feel things like Harry did. The way you could be yourself around him was one of the reasons why you’re beats faster around him.

But when he chose very odd words to describe you, your mind went blurry. Is that what he thought of you? It hasn’t even been 15 minutes, you both still catching your breath from the orgasm.

His lips were hot and heavy on yours as he pushed you back on your bed with a slight force. Lips were never yours he placed his legs on either side of you, his hands travelled up your sides stopping at your shoulders. Fingers dancing delicately on the supple skin of your bare shoulder, his strong tongue gliding in your own with such as ease as your lips smacked together. Biting your lower lip with a tug he pulled away making you arch your back if your soul left your body with the kiss.

As shiver ran down your spine as the back of his ring cladded fingers ran over your skin before pulling down the straps of your cami top kissing the-now complete naked skin of your shoulder. Lips trailing kisses all the way to your neck. A gentle giggle leaving past your lips with the contact of his scruffy cheeks buried in the crook of your neck. You felt him smile over your skin with your hands tangling in his hair-a little wet from the shower he took before driving to you.

“sorry baby”

Pulling away from your neck he tugged on your top, you lifted your arms letting the man take off the piece off clothing. Doing the same with his t-shirt he revealed his tatted-toned chest. Your mouth watering with the thought of having taste of that cock you missed so much. So rolling over you placed your legs on his side seating yourself over his grown bulge over the material of his boxers-his sweats were the first thing that came off when you started palming him while making out.

“I want to get a take of you H.” You whispered in his ear straddling his lap as you kissed down his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck. He tasted his berries. Sweet and tropical

“Then do it baby. I want you to suck me” he pushed your straddling down lightly hinting you it was time to get to work. You licked his v-line before pulling his boxers down. His hard shaft sprinted up-slapping his lower body as his pink tip leaked with pre-cum.

Biting your lower lip, you grabbed his stiff hard cock giving it a few gentle pumps before licking a stride from bottom to top. He was thick and long and his veins popping out making your panties go damp. Failing miserably when you tried to take him completely in his mouth you gagged pulling away collecting your saliva and bobbing your head up and down his cock.

His hand griping tight enough on your hair to guide your mouth just like he wanted.

“hmm, you take me so good doll. Taking my cock like a filthy little girl you are” he moaned through gritted teeth as he bucked his hips further in your mouth making you gag. You could feel his tip hitting the deepest point it could in your throat. Your eyes leaking tears but you couldn’t care less, as you made a complete mess with your spit on his cock.

Taking him out with a pop you pumped his boner and you felt the twitch in his body which indicated he was close. Determined to make him come you kept pumping him picking up your pace only to pushed away by Harry. Pulling you up to his face level he grabbed your face with his hand and roughly placed you’re his lips on yours. His other hand sliding in your panties as he squished your cheeks before turning your face to his lips were directly hovering your ears.

“I want to fuck you so hard” his words made you whimper as a mewl left your lips. Your body crumbling in his touch and without warning he inserted his one long finger inside your opening, A loud moan escaping your mouth as you laid your head on his shoulder as he pumped his finger, now adding one more opening you a little bit.

With one ease motion he rolled you on your back, your nipples perking up with the sudden exposure to cold air which was no more pressed against a body. Harry placed himself between your legs taking in the aroma of your sex, nose directly over your clothed center. Hooking up his fingers between your pj’s he pulled down the cotton lower along your panties not wanting to waste any more minute and having a taste of you.

It has been a while since he had his mouth on that sweet pussy of yours.

“You smell like heaven darling; I wonder if it tastes even sweeter”

“Why don’t you find out yourself”

Placing his wide tongue on your core he licked from your opening to the clit. His muscular tongue collecting all the juices in one go. Hands spreading your legs wider and pinning your hips down-knowing how you always squirm whenever he goes down on you. He groans as the taste buds on his tongue sensed the sweetness of your pussy. Giving up on being gentle, he gripped your thighs throwing her over your shoulder and licking the pussy mercilessly. Suckling upon the little bundle of nerve, he pushed his tongue inside of you feeling the tightness of your walls.

The eagerness of his licks and sucks on your pussy made your clit throb and soon you were pushing on his head with the building up coil in your belly. Knowing your body like the back of his hand his mouth never left your core as his tongue flicked your clit roughly. He wanted you to cum. He wanted to boost his ego becoming aware of the fact how easily he could make you cum unlike other males you had in your life.

“shhi, I am gonna cum Har- you cut of your own self feeling your body release the orgasm. Your breath heavy and body tired from riding your high you laid there catching some air. Harry laid beside you before his body placed itself over you to finish the unfinished business you started.

“Excuse me?” You replied turning your head to face him who was still looking at the ceiling. Moonlight falling over his perfectly sculpted face as he stared into the oblivious blinking whatever was going through his mind.

“I asked you, are you a hoe?” he answered thinking you didn’t hear him before not knowing it was you giving him second chance to rephrase his question. Seemed like he had no intention of doing so.

“Wh- what makes you say that Harry?” Yes you were hurt, yes you could cry if he wasn’t there. Never ever you have been called a hoe. Been known for the most kind and generous heart yourself the word was completely foreign to you. And you just wished you could forget what it meant but no. You wanted to know what made him ask you such a bizarre question.

“I saw you on a date” He replied finally facing you. His face blank, having no sign of emotion at all.

“I-“

“How can you go on a date when you are fucking me?”

“I did not go on a date harry, It was my colleague. He wanted some help because he was going through a rough patch with his wife” You explained. Your brows scrunches in annoyance. Why did it matter to him at all who you went out with and don’t?

“Also I don’t owe you any explanation of who I go out with and who I don’t. We are just fuck friends like you said so I’d rather have you minding your business.” You said turning to face away from him so he doesn’t see the building up tears in your eyes. He had the audacity to ask you such question under your roof, if it was someone else, he would’ve been out of your house by now but you couldn’t kick him out. And no you did not go on a date with anyone after you rekindled your past relationship you had with Harry.

You were no double standard lady.

“Hey, I’m sorry” he whispered rubbing your shoulder as you hide your face further into the pillow.

“I-I just don’t you to change your feelings for me” his following up sentence made you enraged. Change feelings? He was the one who told you, it was your fault to have feelings for him and now he’s the one who don’t want you changing them either. The confusion he put you in was enough to make you mad. Of course, the feelings you had for him were still there. You were trying your best to fade it away well aware of the fact that future held no possibility of you two being together-in fact he made his point in the same himself. Then why was he scared of you losing your feelings for him?

His words were generating nothing but several questions in your mind, tangling you in the confusion.

“What exactly do you want from me Harry?” You gave up raising your voice as you sat up not caring if your chest wasn’t covered but now bare to him.

“First you go away slamming my door when I tell you I have feelings for you. Blaming me for not knowing better and letting my emotions go. And now when I am trying my best to get rid of the feelings you first, under my roof call me a hoe and then go telling me you don’t want me to change my feelings for you? What kind of fool you’re making of me Harry?!” You questioned his intentions. Shifting to sit up he opened his mouth but nothing came out.

It's like he was caught. He himself didn’t know what he wanted from this relationship of sexual desire that he had with you.

“Oh I’ll tell you, you just want to keep me around so you can have a person you can rely on mentally and sexually when you want to without committing to it. You’re scared of making promises Harry, and when you realized that one day this won’t be what I want anymore leaving you alone you questioned me.” You were spitting nothing but facts.

Yes he was scared that one day you will leave him but wasn’t coming to you just because his body desired yours, but because ever since he left you the day with anger in his eyes. His own self doubted him. Did he really not feel anything towards you? Was it just a fuck or more than it. Trying to find the answers he came to the conclusion of having some sort of feelings for you.

The thought of you happily smiling with someone else wasn’t something he could bear.

But he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for another heartbreak. Call it his naïve side of nature, he presumed it won’t work out, just like it didn’t between him and Camille. But thinking you’re losing feeling for him brough the fear he had buried deep inside, out once again. He couldn’t lose you. Though he did not want to commit, he did not want you to fall out of your feels for him. Maybe it was his toxic nature or selfishness but he wanted you all to himself without making him yours.

You didn’t hold you tears back this time. He deserved to see your tears, as much as he deserved to know that you were hurting. Every day spent with him took a part of you. You wanted harry to see what pain he put you through, how his confused mind messed up with yours.

“I’m just scared” breaking the silence of your sobs he looked at you. The way fat tears faintly rolled down your cheeks made his heart ache, after all, he did care about you.

“Of what?”

“I’ve been hurt in the past and I just don’t want the history to repeat itself once again.”

“how would you know if you don’t give a chance?”

“I don’t have more chances to spare”

“Then I think we should end whatever this craps is” you said wiping the tears with the back of your hand cussing at his selfishness. For the sake of his heart he was willing to break yours. How pathetic.

“Why would you want this to end”

“why don’t you give us a chance”

“I am not ready for a relationship right now”

“I am willing to make this work if you are-?”

“You can’t change my mind”

“Okay then this is the last time I see you, you know the way out” You replied ending the back and forth going conversation. Saying this indeed stung your heart but you lost nothing. Yes, your love for him was deep, but his selfishness was deeper. It wasn’t your job to get him ready for something he isn’t. And in the end if you who’s hurting both ways so why not put a full stop to the ongoing story of no outcome.

This time it was your time to be selfish and choose yourself over a man who wasn’t willing to give in his feelings for his greed, so why should you sacrifice your peace and love over someone who’s going to end up taking the generosity for granted.

And for how long could you do this anyways. After all, all good things come to an end.

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fan fictions #harry styles writings #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #hs #hs writings #hs imagines #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fics

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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years

Text

Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

#all bets are off #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dom!spencer

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inliar · 3 years

Text

timing

word count: 5.3k

jinhwan x reader

you have the uncanny knack of running into kim jinhwan exactly when he needs it. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued.

a/n: support ikon on kingdom!

the first time you meet him, it’s at your friend’s debut stage. once upon a time, you and your friend, yerin, had been trainees together in a decently small company. but while her skills only grew over time, morphing into something fascinating and breathtaking that deserved to be shown to the world, yours had stagnated. it wasn’t for lack of effort – you had put just as many hours into dance and vocal lessons as the others – but it was, probably, for lack of passion.

at some point, you had stopped emphasizing with your fellow trainee’s heartfelt speeches on their dreams of debuting, and it was around then that you realized you weren’t meant to be an idol in the same way they were. it was alright, though, because if anyone out of the two of you deserved to debut, it was her. you’d never felt any regret after terminating your short trainee agreement with your label.

but your friendship had never ceased, and you’d kept in regular contact with yerin, as well as the other trainees set to debut in the rookie group. you often took to reminding them to eat their meals, or to take breaks in between lessons, because you’d experienced first-hand how thoroughly unchecked passions can blind a person to their obvious needs.

finally, their efforts had culminated into a debut, and you wouldn’t miss their first stage for the world. their manager, minseo (who, in a different timeline, might have been your manager as well) was kind enough to let you visit them face-to-face in their waiting room for the music program.

“nervous?” you ask, taking in yerin’s brightly-coloured romper and her bleached, curled, strands of hair. it’s such a far departure from the tracksuits and messy ponytail you’d often seen her sporting during early morning dance practices, but it somehow suits her better than anything else you’d ever seen her wear.

“excited.” she responds instead, with a frightening degree of certainty. it must be nice, you think, to have something you want so desperately and unfalteringly. but watching your best friend get to live out her dreams is almost just as nice.

you nod, feeling the corners of your lips quirk up. “have i ever told you how proud i am of you?” you say, lightheartedly, suppressing the urge to ruffle your hand over her well-styled hair.

“no, but since it’s coming from you, i know you mean it.” she says with such sincerity that you feel an unexpected surge of pride lodge itself into your chest.

you clear your throat. this won’t do. she hasn’t even performed yet and you’re already turning into a sentimental mess. “i’m going to go get myself something to drink,” you say, excusing yourself. “do you want anything?”

her eyes brighten. “ooh, can i have an orange soda?” she asks, before pausing and turning around. “wait, manager-nim, am i allowed to drink soda before a stage?”

minseo tears her eyes away from her phone and straightens up. “as long as it’s not something that will rapidly stain your teeth, it should be fine. are you thirsty? do you need me to get you something?”

you pipe up. “oh, it’s fine, i can get it. you should stay with the group, unni, you’re the manager.” then, you raise your voice and direct it towards the rest of the girls. “hey, guys, i’m getting yerin a drink from the vending machine. does anyone else want anything?”

“oh, can i have a canned coffee?” you hear one of the members – jiyoung’s – voice ask.

“me too!” hyemin’s voice adds.

“vitamin water, please!” mirae’s voice calls.

you tally the drinks up in your head. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. you hold up an ‘okay’ sign with your hand and nod. jiyoung jokingly salutes in return.

“can i pay you back?” minseo offers, pulling out a credit card that most definitely won’t work on the rickety vending machines you’d seen on your way to the waiting room.

you shake your head dismissively. “it’s just a couple of drinks, and besides, i have a ton of coins i need to get rid of. you can buy me a meal later, yeah?” you offer, and minseo nods. “at this rate, i’ll have to hire you as my assistant.” she jokes, lightheartedly, and you smile. you wouldn’t mind that at all.

you recite the list of drinks to yourself as you make it out of their waiting room and towards the vending machine. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. two ca—

thud.

the small sound shakes you out of your mantra and, instinctively, you turn towards the noise. judging by the obvious frustration radiating from the person in front of you and his relative position to the vending machine, you figure he just kicked the poor thing.

“are you alright?” you ask, tentatively, and the person in question turns to face you.

oh. it’s kim jinhwan. from ikon.

you try your hardest to suppress a smile. yerin loves ikon. she’d be so jealous to know that you ran into one of the members today, and in such an innocuous way at that.

“yes, sorry.” jinhwan offers, looking almost sheepish. “the machine stole my money, and-”

almost on cue, you hear a voice call out in the distance. “hurry up, hyung! you said it’d only take a few minutes!”

jinhwan’s expression instantly sours, and you nod in understanding. “what did you try to get, sunbaenim?” you ask politely, turning towards the machine and scanning its contents.

“just an energy drink. but i guess i’ll be fine without it.” he explains, trying a little too hard to sound lighthearted and unbothered.

you identify the drink in question and punch in its code. after feeding your coins into the machine, you watch as the suddenly functional appliance pushes the energy drink out of its row and into the bottom of the machine.

squatting, you grab the drink and hold it out. “please, take this.” you offer as you stand up, suddenly noticing how heavily the foundation under his eyes is applied. you inwardly frown. he must really need the boost. “it’s the one you wanted, right?”

he doesn’t take it, instead opting to stare at it instead. “i couldn’t, i don’t have any more change on me right now.” he says, despite eyeing the drink longingly.

“hyung! we have to go!” the voice from before calls out again, insistently. he turns towards the voice before turning back to you, conflicted. you put on what you hope is a reassuring smile before pushing the drink with a little more force into his hands. instinctively, he takes it.

“please don’t worry about it, it’s just a drink. good luck with your stage, sunbaenim!” you cheer, gently.

he looks at the drink, then looks at you, then glances behind him at what you presume to be his waiting room before looking at you again.

“jinhwan hyung!” the voice demands with an intimidating undercurrent of finality, leaving no more room to stall. you tilt your head towards it meaningfully.

“i.. thank you.” he finally says, tightly, before turning around and running away. satisfied, you turn towards the vending machine. what did your friends ask for? right, two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. you punch the drink codes in, methodically inserting all of your loose change you had been trying to get rid of for so long, and add an extra coffee in for minseo for good measure. if she’s going to make good on her dinner promise, and you know she will, she should get a little something in return.

(you would have gotten her something even if you didn't coerce her into buying you food. a part of you thrives at the feeling of taking care of others, and you dimly wonder if that means anything.)

the next time you meet him is yet another case of being in the right place at the right time, for lack of a better phrase.

you’d spent a good portion of your school days active as a trainee. so, when you’d eventually exited the entertainment industry, you were strikingly behind all the other students your age in the cruelly competitive system that was korea’s education system. you were planning on taking a gap year to figure out exactly what you wanted to do with the rest of your life (which was generally frowned upon, as students were expected to naturally know these things), but minseo had saved you from that fate. “since the girls have been getting a little bigger recently, i’ve been given the permission and the budget to hire an assistant manager.” she had explained through a spontaneous phone call, her voice crackling over the receiver as you shifted your cellphone to your other ear. “if i can trust anyone to care for them the way that i do, it’s you.”

“will it be okay?” you had asked, not against the proposition but not wanting to get her in trouble. “i have no managerial experience, and i’m in the same age range as the members. i don’t want the company to come off as unprofessional.”

she had reassured you that you wouldn’t be working on anything that she wouldn’t teach you to do first, and that, as long as you didn’t boast about your age, it would be fine. “i was allowed to write the hiring criteria, and if you just happen to be the perfect candidate, then so be it.” she had said, and you could almost imagine the conspiratorial wink she would have shot in your direction if you were talking face to face.

and so your reentrance to the entertainment industry had begun; except this time, you were on the other, more secluded, side of the stage. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered being a manager before; you’ve always been the type to take care of others, and when minseo had joked about taking you on as an assistant before, a secret part of you had taken it a little too close to heart. but you had never actually expected her words to become a reality.

the job isn’t too hard to pick up. you’re assigned a lot of small yet useful tasks, like calling the salons and confirming hair appointment times, or writing the minutes for meetings about comeback concepts. sometimes, your only role for the day is simply coaxing minseo unni into stopping and taking a lunch break. you’re busy, for sure, but not yet at the juggling-octopus level of the senior manager, who is somehow able to coordinate every other task and responsibility that involves the group simultaneously and all without fail. while you just have to confirm the things she’s already set up, she has to do all the preparation work. you’ve seen her meticulously arrange and assign each member’s schedules, all the while keeping an eye on album sales and concert venues and security payroll and feedback from their vocal or dance instructors. just by looking at her essay of a to-do list that’s propped up on her desk, you understand why the company gave her the permission to hire an assistant.

the most important responsibility she had given you, however, was to be the first line of contact with the members of the group. “you know them better than i do, so i think you’d do a better job of helping them out. they’re not too fussy, so it shouldn’t be too hard to work with them? just keep an eye on the members, and check on them every now and then. of course, let me know if you need any extra help.” a very harried minseo had told you, while on hold with the videography company who, annoyingly, hadn’t confirmed what time they were coming in tomorrow to film the dance video for the group’s upcoming comeback.

“yes, of course.” you had replied, fully intending to not do just that. you were going to avoid adding any responsibilities to minseo unni’s workload at all costs.

there wasn’t much that you needed to do. occasionally, you needed to get the members drinks or snacks while they were in their waiting rooms before music show performances, or make sure that they checked in with you before they went out anywhere. to help with this, you had gotten into the habit of carrying a backpack with you at all times, fully stocked with the necessities: an assortment of the member’s favourite snacks, an epipen for hyemin’s peanut allergy tucked in a small first aid kit, extra hair elastics, pads and tampons, and various sets of phone chargers.

“you’re already, like, one of those overprepared asian mothers that carries everything in her massive purse, and you’re barely an adult.” yerin had snickered one day while you reorganized your bag in their dorm.

you had grinned, teasingly pushing her away. “it’s this overprepared asian mother that has your precious pocky at hand, so watch it.” you’d warned, shaking the snack box in the air.

“don’t shake it!” yerin had yelped, cradling the cookie sticks protectively against her chest. “you’ll break them.”

it was the last week of promotions for the group’s third mini album, and you had just finished supervising the stage hands as they finished setting up the stage. satisfied, you grab your backpack from the chair it was lounging on, thank them for their hard work, and beeline for the exit, wondering if you can run into the girls before they get called down for their pre-stage interview.

“—ust going to have to wait, we don’t have any on hand right now.” you hear a gruff sounding voice say, and subconsciously, you look towards the source of the noise.

just across the hallway from you is what appears to be a very tall manager and a very short idol, judging from the casual apparel the taller is wearing and the shiny, glittery jacket the shorter one has on. the one in the glittery jacket is clutching at his shoulder in obvious discomfort.

“how long do you think it will take?” the shorter asks, letting go of his shoulder and rolling it back, and you’d recognize that voice anywhere. yerin had recently been studying his stage habits by watching his fancams on repeat, and at this point, his voice was engraved in the back of your mind. it’s jinhwan, again. (“i can’t believe you got to meet jinhwan sunbae before i did,” yerin had pouted when you had told her about your previous encounter. “but why did you call him sunbae? he’s not technically your senior anymore.”

“so i used to be a trainee, and old habits die hard. sue me.” you had defended yourself, protectively, before making a mental note to stop doing that.)

“i’m not sure. i’m not supposed to leave the shooting site, and no one else has answered my calls yet. do you think you’ll be able to do the stage without a patch?” the manager asks.

the idol who you now recognize as jinhwan winces, and you take that as your cue to dig through your bag. after finding what you’re looking for, you take a nervous breath and walk towards the pair.

“hello,” you greet tentatively, bowing. the two of them turn to face you, and politely bow back. you don’t miss the way jinhwan’s face grimaces ever so slightly as he does so.

“i’m really sorry if i’m being invasive, but i happened to hear what was going on.” you start. at that, you offer him the pair of pain-relief patches you were clutching securely with both of your hands. “please, take these.”

the two of them pause, taking a second to read the upside-down text on the packaging. in hindsight, you probably should have held it so the text was facing them. “won’t you need them?” the manager asks, eventually looking back up at you.

you shake your head in denial, eyes wide. “no, no. i always have extras in my bag. besides, the ones my members use most often are the ankle patches, so i won’t miss these.” you explain, taking a short, meaningful glance at jinhwan’s shoulder before pushing the packages into his manager’s hands.

he takes them. “thank you,” he says, gratefully, and you smile.

“yes, of course.” you reply, taking another quick glance at jinhwan. he’s staring at you, expression carefully blank, but, upon making eye contact. he bows his head. “thank you,” he says as well, and you pause. there’s something in his tone that sounds off, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

you don’t have time to stand there and think about it, though, because your group is going to get called down for their interview any minute now. and while you don’t technically have to be there, minseo said that it would be a good idea for you to monitor them. “just so you can get used to your job,” she had said, and you agreed. it would be entirely selfish to back out on that now, just to stand and meaninglessly analyze a person you had no connections with.

“i … have to go now.” you begin, tentatively, ignoring the pressing feeling in the pit of your stomach thats begging you to stay and figure out what feels so wrong. “good luck on your stage, sunb- i mean! jinhwan-ssi, and i hope your shoulder feels better.”

you bow, reflexively, trying your best not to make a weird face out of embarrassment, and jinhwan bows back. “thank you, again.” he reiterates, and you turn to leave.

it’s only after you’re absolutely sure that you’re out of their line of view before you let yourself cringe. sunbae? you tried to call him sunbae? you really, really, need to get out of that habit. what kind of interaction was that?

‘but is he okay?’ a smaller, more insistent, voice in the back of your head asks, and you frown. you don’t know.

in between your last memorable encounter and the next one, you see him a few times. your group passes by him in a few music programs, you run into their group at a hair appointment, and a few other miscellaneous encounters as such naturally occur. but you never interact. as a manager, it’s not your job to play buddy-buddy with other idol groups, especially if they’re not even in your company. you’ve always done a very good job of staying out of the spotlight, and, as a manager, most people don’t spare you a glance. jinhwan doesn’t even look in your direction.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed.

the third time you meet him is not, for once, at a music program. you’re in hapjeong-dong, meaning to visit a friend who’d recently moved into the area. but she’d last-minute changed her housewarming party time to a dinner party instead of a lunch meetup. by the time you’d got the memo, you were already halfway across seoul on the subway. since you hadn’t eaten anything yet, and you no longer had lunch plans, your first stop is at the first ramen shop you see after you exit the terminal.

“i’m afraid we’re a little full at the moment, ma’am, and the only seats available are at the counter. will that be alright?” the hostess asks, smiling warmly.

“yes, that’s great.” you say, and you let her escort you to the counter and hand you a menu. you prop up your purse and your housewarming gift on the chair next to you before taking it, thanking her.

as you’re flipping through the menu, mentally calculating how much more you’ll be able to spend this month, you hear the tinkling of the bell at the front door signalling another customer. a cursory glance around the relatively full counter area lets you know that there’s only one seat left, and you’re hogging it with your bags. you quickly take them off the only available chair and bend down to set them on the ground below your feet.

“... and here you go, sir, i’ll be back with a menu shortly.” the bubbly hostess says, smiling politely at the customer whose face you haven’t seen yet. you straighten up, taking a quick look at the hostess and the customer before turning back to look at your menu.

“yes, thank you,” the customer says, and you freeze. you must be hearing things. there is no way that you are eating lunch next to kim jinhwan in a random restaurant.

the customer sits down next to you, and you shoot another quick look at the man who is taking off his mask. who is most definitely kim jinhwan.

do you … do you say anything? idols deserve to eat in peace, so should you pretend not to recognize him? but won’t sitting in a stony, awkward silence as you eat next to each other be even worse? you contemplate burying yourself in your phone for the entire meal, before realizing that you left it in your purse. and there’s no feasible way that you can grab it without having to scoot back your chair, get off the stool to open your bag, and sit back up on it again.

unfortunately for you, he looks in your direction as you’re gaping at him, panic-struck. the resulting eye contact is unbearably awkward on your end, but he looks at you as if he’s trying to remember who you are.

“pardon me, but are you the one who … with the pain-relief patch?” he asks, gesturing slightly with his hands as he sits dodwn. it’s vague and awkward, and if he did that to anyone else they’d be very confused, but you know exactly what he means.

you blush a little. there’s nothing else you can say now. “yes, uh, i think that was me.”

“and … the vending machine?” he ventures.

your eyes widen a little at that. that was so many months ago. he still remembers? “the energy drink, right? that was also me. hello, jinhwan-ssi.” you offer, tentatively, bowing your head slightly. at this point, there’s no use pretending you don’t know his name. he bows his head in return.

“may i ask for your name?” jinhwan asks, tentatively.

“oh, ah, i’m ______.” you respond. “it’s nice to meet you, officially.”

jinhwan nods in agreement, seemingly taking in all the new information for a few seconds. after a short pause, he continues. “do you also work in the entertainment industry?” he asks, slowly.

“yes, i’m an assistant manager for kyubie, a new girlgroup at AB entertainment,” you introduce yourself. it still feels a little strange to say that title out loud. assistant manager. you’re an assistant manager.

“ah, i see.” jinhwan says, smiling a little as he processes the information, and you politely smile back. a part of you wants to help him carry this conversation out, but the other, more dominant part of you is just as socially awkward as he looks like he feels and is absolutely incapable of doing such a thing.

“you look quite young for a manager,” he offers, as an odd semblance of a compliment, and you take it in stride.

“i get that a lot! i actually used to be a trainee at AB, but i ended up becoming a manager inst!—ead …” you start, mouth running itself as it struggles to fill the awkward silence, before you register what you just said.

“i, uh, i wasn’t supposed to say that.” you mutter, loudly enough so its audible but quietly enough to express your regret.

jinhwan, for what it’s worth, only looks placidly amused. “don’t worry, i won’t say a word,” he assures you. he doesn’t ask for any more details or for an elaboration on why it would be a secret. you’re grateful for that.

“thank you,” you say, trying not to let the relief show itself too heavily in your tone. if he notices it, he doesn’t say a word.

“i should be thanking you. for the drink and for the pain-relief patches, before. i don’t think i could have done my stage without either.” he assures you, kindly. “i didn’t get to thank you properly before.”

you shake your head in denial. “no, no, don’t worry about it. i get what it’s like to always be running low on time. and you did say thank you! i didn’t feel underappreciated, or ignored, or anything like that.” you explain, letting out your first real smile since the beginning of the conversation.

(you miss the way his eyes linger on it for a beat too long.)

“i’m glad that you think that, then,” jinhwan says, faintly, as the hostess comes back with his menu that he barely even scans before ordering. you, too, order, ignoring the meaningful glances she’s throwing at the two of you. that’s a misunderstanding that can be resolved in the unlikely chance it becomes an issue.

“so,” jinhwan starts, “tell me about your group.”

and you’re gone.

conversation flows surprisingly easily once the two of you find your common ground. as a manager and as a friend, you have a lot to tell him about your members and how they act. “one of them, my friend, actually, she’s a really big fan of yours.” you mention, offhandedly. you’ve gone long past the point where you’re trying to filter yourself.

“is that so?” he asks, calmly, and you grin.

“yeah. she was really jealous when i told her that i met you before,” you laugh, “and she’ll probably be a little bit jealous that i met you again today.”

“what about you?” he asks, and then looks a little bit startled. almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“i’m sorry?” you ask, despite knowing perfectly well what he’d meant to say. you do your best to not blush.

jinhwan, having seemingly decided to just go with it, smiles. “are you a fan of mine, too?” he asks, and oh, your cheeks are not supposed to feel this hot.

“i, uh—” you flounder, trying to think of a way to answer this professionally, before a strangely brave crevice of your mind tells you to be honest.

“before? i don’t know. but now? probably.” you admit, which is good enough for jinhwan.

he doesn’t push it (probably because you looked like a tomato just then and he wants to save your blood pressure), and instead steers the conversation back to your life as a manager and his funny anecdotes in the entertainment industry. for someone who is so soft spoken and looked so thoroughly awkward when you first met, he tries incredibly hard to keep the conversation flowing and comfortable. you’re half in awe at his easy going nature.

you eat slowly once you get your food, selfishly wanting the conversation to last longer, but eventually there are no more noodles left in your plate and half of the lunchtime rush has already cleared out. jinhwan excuses himself to pay, asking you to watch his jacket, and you grab your purse and your housewarming gift from the floor while you wait. your phone tells you that it’s been nearly two hours since you entered the restaurant, and you must have suddenly forgotten how to read time, because there’s no possible way you had spent that long talking with jinhwan.

he eventually comes back. he puts his mask on and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, and you take that as your cue to head to the payment counter. “i’m here to pay for my order,” you say, pulling out your wallet, and the checkout man shakes his head.

“you’re already paid for,” he explains, and you frown. “pardon me?” you ask, unsure if you heard him right.

“the gentleman who sat next to you has already paid for your meal,” he clarifies, and you stand there for a moment.

“are— are you sure?” you ask, confusedly. the checkout man nods. “here’s the purchase receipt if you want to be sure.”

the sound of the front door bell tinkling draws your attention, and you turn to see jinhwan’s figure leave the shop. “thank you!” you exclaim hurriedly to the counter, mindlessly stuffing the receipt in your left pocket before booking it out of there.

by the time you get to the outside of the shop, jinhwan is a good ten meters away. “jinh—!” you start, and then stop. yelling an idol’s name in public is most definitely not a good idea.

you’ve never been the most active, but you run after him anyway. thankfully, he’s not making an effort to run away from you, because you wouldn’t be able to catch up with him then.

eventually, you catch up with him as he’s waiting for a pedestrian walkway to turn green. “jinhwan-ssi!” you call, furtively, and the man in question turns around to face you.

" ______.” he says, curiously. “what are you doing here?”

“you paid for my meal.” you state, and he looks at you like it’s obvious.

“yes, i did.” he says, frowning a little. the pedestrian walkway turns green. he doesn’t make any effort to move.

“can i pay you back?” you ask, hand instinctively going towards your wallet in your right pocket.

he laughs a little at that. “why would you pay me back? this is my thank you for the favours you did for me.”

“you don’t have to pay me back! i did those things because i could. besides, a vending machine drink and a pain-relief patch costs much less than a meal.” you argue.

“then, consider it like i’m doing this because i can.” he counters, and its very hard to object to your own logic.

“can i at least buy you coffee or something as thanks?” you ask, as the pedestrian walkway turns red once more.

at this, jinhwan pauses, before he sighs. “i have vocal practice in half an hour, so i can’t right now. but—” he continues, seeing the look of disappointment you already knew was on your face, “did you get the receipt from the checkout guy?”

“the what?” you ask, confused.

his face pales. “oh no, did you not take it?” he asks, suddenly looking scared, and you remember mindlessly snatching the receipt from the checkout man’s hands. you clumsily pat through your pockets a little before pulling a slip of paper out from your left pocket. “no, i have it,” you say, holding it up, “but why?”

jinhwan sighs. “turn it over,” he says, and you do.

in pen, a phone number is scribbled over the back of the receipt. “jinhwan,” it says in neatly printed letters next to it, and you fight back the urge to smile. you probably do a terrible job of it, too.

“text me when you’re free, and we can do coffee sometime, yeah?” jinhwan offers. you can’t see his face well because of his mask, but the tips of his ears are red. it’s stupidly endearing.

“i will,” you promise, because how could you say no to that?

the walkway light turns green once again. jinhwan waves as he crosses the street, and you wave as you stay behind. its only after you’re absolutely, positively sure that he’s out of sight that you let yourself grin, burying your too-hot face into your hands.

if you just played your cards right, you have a date with kim jinhwan.

(you text him the very same day, and make plans for coffee the next week.

you treat him to crepe cakes and lattes, and he pouts, claiming that the crepes were too much and now he just has to take you out to make up for it.

before you can tell him that no, it’s fine, it’s your treat, he has movie tickets for two booked and emailed to your account.

you agree to go, but only if you get to buy the popcorn.)

#ikon #jinhwan #kim jinhwan #jay #ikon jinhwan #ikon jay #ikon fanfic #jinhwan fanfic #jinhwan x reader #writing

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sparklingchan · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 3.3k+

Warnings : A fight scene but it’s just practice XD

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: An unexpected incident brings you closer to Felix, but there’s one person who’s not very excited about this blossoming friendship.

A/N : Things start getting interesting from here *insert the moon face emoji* Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST || Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

"A near miss, y/n." Felix whispers in his deep, raspy voice sending shivers through your entire body.

You blink awkwardly at him for a few seconds before he gets off of you and offers you his hand to help you stand up.

You hear the Aphrodite girls whispering behind you, giggling.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Your eyes are looking everywhere but at Felix, the heat from your cheeks making your whole face warm.

"It's alright, " he chuckles, "Are you hurt anywhere?" His freckles look even more gorgeous up close, his toothy smiles reminds you of bright skies and beaches and picnics and fresh fruits. And when the warm afternoon sunlight falls on his eyes, his brown orbs turn into a gentler shade of golden. Breathtaking.

"You're beautiful." You blurt out, involuntarily, loud and clear so everyone hears you. A loud chorus of gasps run throughout the dining hall.

And you decide to run away back to your cabin with the little dignity you had left of yourself.

And there you are, once again thinking back to yesterday's events while polishing your precious arrow heads as you sit on the Zeus cabin's verandah.

You sigh, "It was the Aphrodite effect, right? It has to be!"

You've been pep talking to yourself all morning long, making up excuses for the way you behaved yesterday. You're too embarrassed to face your friends or the other people at camp.

"I mean he is good looking, but why did I say it out loud. Does he have powers? Like that of Hyunjin? Maybe he can charmspeak. Yes! That's probably it!" You mutter to yourself.

(a/n: Charmspeak is a rare type of hypnotic ability that Aphrodite kids possess)

Or perhaps he'd induced a new sense of adoration in you, like how Aphrodite kids usually can. But then again, they cannot actually induce these feelings. They can only manipulate them which means they'd have to exist in the first place.

You put the arrow back into it's case.

"Ugh!" You let out a loud groan, covering your face with your palms.

The image that you'd spent years to portray in front of everyone is all destroyed in the blink of an eye. Now no one's going to respect you as an only child of the Big Three, they're going to see you as a girl who gets smitten easily and not as the headstrong person you always acted like.

All because of that Lee Felix!

(a/n: big three refers to the three major Greek gods namely Poseidon, Zeus and Hades)

You stand up from the floor, not being able to handle the bombardment of thoughts in your mind, and decide that practicing sword fighting is the right thing to now.

So you find yourself making your way from behind the Athena cabin (where you can clearly hear Seungmin and another Athena kid debating over mortal politics) and then through the Jasmine fields that Apollo personally tends to and down the hill to the weapon practice arena.

"Hey, y/n."

Oh no, no no no.

Why is it that when you are trying to avoid a person that exact person is the one who keeps popping up everywhere? Why is it, you tell me, that Lee Felix happens to be in the practice arena just when you arrive there?

The Gods must be having a nice laughter up there, especially your father Zeus.

"H-hey!" You try to reply with fake enthusiasm.

He has his bronze sword in his right hand while he jogs up to you, his messy blonde hair shining like the sun.

"Did you sleep well?"

No, you hadn't.

"Yes, I did." You laugh awkwardly, "Slept wonderfully."

Felix laughs back, eyes hooded with a hint of shyness that hadn't existed till yesterday afternoon.

He tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, "Hey, um about what you said yesterday-"

"Do you wanna duel with me?"

If you cannot escape him, you might as well divert his attention.

He looks at you like you'd just punched him in the face. His smile threatening to disappear any moment.

And that’s when you realise asking him to duel with you might not have been the brightest ideas, and not to mention how you'd called him beautiful in front a hundred other demigods last afternoon.

"I'd love to!" He replies, with an excited voice, "Swords?"

You open your mouth to reply, but only air slips out so you subtly nod. He doesn't have to know you're a nervous mess that's lowkey about to pass out.

You walk up to the armory and grab the first sword that you lay eyes on. Truth be told, a sword wasn't really the best choice of weapon for you. It's always been a bow and arrow for you. Bows make you feel at control, like you know what you're doing and you'd always been good at archery, without even trying to.

"Do you not have a sword of your own?" Felix asks almost as if reading your mind.

"No, I don't. Actually I'm more of an archer." You admit.

"Ah, of course. I remember how you killed that Cetus in a single shot. I must say, I was very impressed."

Your cheeks heat up at his compliment. It's not like people haven't complimented your archery skills before - they have, in fact they do it all the time yet you wonder why is it so much more meaningful to you when coming from Felix. Has your biggest fear finally come true?

You shake your head mentally, no, it cannot be.

"Thanks. You're not very bad with your sword either."

Felix acknowledges your compliment with a smile. He then stands up straight, the sword in his right and bows gently, a silly smile playing at his lips.

"Oh we're following the courtesies?" You whisper to yourself, copying his actions.

The both of you stand facing each other, a silent understanding flowing between the two of you while you take your dueling positions.

You expect him to attack first but he doesn't; instead he watches you with a smirk, as if trying to make you flustered.

(It was working but you'd rather never say that out loud)

So he attacks first. He aims his sword near your abdomen but you quickly jump to defend yourself, blocking his attack with your sword. The metallic clang of your swords ringing throughout the otherwise quiet arena. He stumbles back, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as your sword brushes swiftly past his neck while he's still catching his breath, barely touching him though.

Of course, hurting the opponent isn’t the aim here. Disarming them is.

"She's not bad with the sword." He thinks to himself, a little proud.

He then retorts back, swinging his sword right in front of your face, missing by merely an inch.

Your heart does a backflip, both out of excitement and fear.

You don't waste a second, gaining back your balance, thrusting your sword in the space between his arm and abdomen. Your sword clash together as you try to push his sword back with yours, yet this time he resists, putting in all his energy to make you loose your grip on the sword.

And it seems to have worked because the next moment, he sees you losing your strength, your face scrunched in concentration as you let out a few grunts. He takes a single step towards you while applying more force on your sword with his, and there goes your sword, falling onto the ground gracefully, like a martyred soldier.

"Do you accept defeat, miss y/n?" Felix teases through laboured breaths and you only have enough energy to roll your eyes at him, hitting his arm in response.

Felix passes you back your sword, as he walks over to the bench and slumps down.

Your body is too tired to worry about Felix bringing up yesterday's incident, so you follow him and sit by his side. Neither of you say anything, your fanning breaths and thumping hearts and the buzzing of insects are the only sounds in the arena. You'd never experienced this kind of peacefulness in the camp before, at least not unless you were by yourself.

When you recover from your momentary exhaustion, you look over at Felix and softly begin, "I was wondering..."

He glances at you with a smile.

Does he ever stop smiling?

"I was wondering...since Hyunjin already told you about the game, would you like to be my partner for the capture the flag game next week? I usually go with Minho but he's a referee this time." You say.

He is taken aback for a second - mostly because he'd never thought someone as cool as you would ask him to be your partner. Team games are very important in camps and its important to make sure that the teammates do not turn out to be poor players. It somehow makes Felix very happy that you'd have such faith in him despite having known him for only two days.

He nods, "I'd be honored to do that."

Your heart beats furiously as you suck in a deep breath, "It's a deal then."

Gosh y/n, what has gotten into you!

You decide to take the longer route back.

Felix left early after finishing the duel so you spent the next hour practicing Archery alone before deciding to head back to your cabin.

Your thoughts are all over the place as it is, but the quietness of the woods help you to sort things out with yourself. You feel rather uncomfortable, experiencing emotions that you'd not felt in a long time, past insecurities and memories fighting their way back from the dungeons you'd locked them up in. This was ridiculous, wasn't it? How Felix comes out of nowhere and just flips everything up?

The sun rays fall on you from the gaps between the tree branches and as you listen to the birds chirp around you, you start to slowly hum to their tune.

"Wow, who hurt you, y/n?" A male voice calls you from behind, the sound of leaves getting crushed under a pair of hooves indicate the approaching entity.

"No one hurt me, Eden."

Eden is still as handsome as ever, you wonder to yourself everytime you return to the camp, with a sturdy upper body and beautiful grey eyes and two strong goat limbs instead of normal human legs, yet he's so much more alluring than any satyr you'd ever seen. (Then again, maybe you're just biased because he’s also your childhood friend) He flashes you a handsome smile and you immediately pray to the gods that he doesn't see you blush.

(a/n: Satyrs, also known as Fauns by Romans, are creatures with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a goat as well as goat horns, and the pointed ears of a goat. )

"What's up." He stands in front of you and kisses you softly on the head, "I had gone out yesterday so I couldn't come see you. Hope you didn't miss me too much."

You hit his chest, "You're so full of yourself, goat-boy." You continue walking back towards your cabin, Eden following right behind.

"Woahh. Using Minho's nicknames now, are we?" He snickers, "One of the kids told me that you had a little hormonal outburst last afternoon?"

An embarrassed sigh leaves you lips. The camp kids really couldn't miss out on one day of gossip now could they?

"I don't wanna talk about it." You mutter as yesterday's events flash into your mind. Felix, his face, his voice and your words. Oh God.

"Hey, no judgment here, okay? If you like the new Aphrodite boy then I support you. Do you want me to play wingman?"

You turn around and smack his chest once again. "I do not like him." Yet.

"Okay, okay. I get it." His tone falls serious, "Anyway I heard about Poseidon's trident. It scared me, I won't lie. Something as powerful as that trident has never been forged in a millennia. And I can only imagine how powerful one has to be steal it. Are you sure only nine demigods are enough to find it?"

"It has to be, Eden." You say, "We don't have too many options. It's either this or we all drown and die or get killed by a monster. I'd like to choose the former."

Eden nods at your words, patting your head encouragingly.

You are about to speak up again when your eyes fall on a woman sitting on a log of wood just a few meters ahead of you.

"Is that one of the Aphrodite girls?" You whisper to Eden, only for him to shake his head in response.

The woman sits with her back facing you, a beautiful white dress adorning her small skinny frame and her brown hair tied in a tidy floral braid. Either the woman is a daughter of Aphrodite's or a Nymph, you conclude.

Without thinking much, you approach her, "Um, hello? May I know who you are?"

A startled gasp escapes your mouth when the woman turns around and looks at you with a very familiar smile playing at her lips - you'd grown up seeing that smile on Hyunjin and very recently on Felix. It's the very same smile, a Xerox copy of it.

"Aphrodite?" You mutter and she nods in response.

"Hello, y/n. Mind if I have a word with you?"

"So you were out with y/n? Dueling?" Changbin asks for the umpteenth time this morning, his usually playful eyes now focused seriously on Felix's body language.

"Yes, Changbin," Felix groans, lying flat on his fluffy bed, "Can you stop making a big deal out of it?"

Chan chuckles at the conversation, his eyes though focused on the book in front of him but his ears are on his two best friends' conversation. Chan knew Changbin wasn't the kind to trust people easily, especially Zeus' children so it's not surprising of him to be suspicious about you but what does come as a surprise to Chan is how oddly giggly Felix has been since last afternoon. After that awkward encounter with you. Could it be that Felix..?

"Do you like Zeus' daughter?" Changbin asks even before Chan can finish his line of thought.

Felix's eyes widen, but the tips of his ears are bright red, "Dude I just met her. Can you not act like a love guru out of the blue?"

"Hey, you're the love expert here. Literally. So, I should be expecting a better answer from you, no?"

"No, I do not like her. Okay?" Felix groans, "But she did ask me to be her partner for the game next week and I'm telling you beforehand Seo Changbin, do not say or assume anything that would make her uncomfortable. "

The warning comes off as rather cute to Chan since he’s always seen the Aphrodite kid as his little brother while Changbin finds his words a tad bit alarming. A Zeus kid is not to be trusted this easily.

"Fine." Changbin mutters, his lips pressing into a thoughtful line, "But just be careful because I - "

"Don't trust the Children of Zeus easily, yeah we know. Come on, Bin. Let him have some fun and make new friends. You should do it, too. We're not on our own anymore." Chan pipes in to save Felix this time and Felix secretly sends a thankful wink to him in return.

"Okay, okay." Changbin gives in.

The door to Felix's room creaks ever so slightly and the three of them turn their heads in anticipation of who it might be.

"Hey. Sorry to disturb you guys but we're being called for dinner." Hyunjin says, still getting used to having three new demigods around in the camp.

Chan closes his book, "Oh, come on, Hyunjin. You're not disturbing us. Come on in."

Felix gets up to greet his half brother with a fist bump and when he stands beside Hyunjin, the two older guys find it hilarious how terribly small he looks. Almost like Hyunjin were his father.

Felix almost as if reads their minds and narrows their eyes at them, "Dinner is ready guys. Can we move?"

"Shortie." Hyunjn whispers incoherently and makes a run towards the door.

"Hey, come back here you piece of -" Felix dashes right after him.

Changbin and Chan chuckle at their tactics, a foreign feeling of calmness settling between them. "This feels like home, Chan. We're finally home." Changbin admits, almost emotionally.

"Yes, Bin." Chan adds, "And I hope we never have to leave again."

"Aphrodite said what now?"

You sigh, running your index finger mindlessly along the lines of the wooden dinner table.

"She wants us to take the new demigods with us to find Poseidon's trident. Especially Felix." You look at your friends, "And she asked me to specifically visit the island of Sicily when we go on the quest. I asked her why but she said she doesn't know it herself."

Hyunjin grunts, almost irritated, "Y/n, I don't know how much you can trust my mother. She's known to cause drama for her own entertainment. "

Well, you do agree with what Hyunjin says but you cannot deny that Aphrodite didn't seem like she was purposely creating drama this time.

"Listen, y/n, you have to go to The island of Sicily. It will lead you to the trident, trust me." She whispers as if she is afraid of someone overhearing your conversation, "Take Felix with you. You'll need him. He'll need you."

You shudder at the memory of her unusually spooky tone.

"What do you think, dad?" Jisung turns to Apollo who has ever so naturally claimed a spot at your usual dinner table tonight, "Do you think we should let new demigods on a quest?"

"I don't think Aphrodite is playing this time. We should listen to her." He taps his finger against his chin, deep in thought, "We need as many people as we can get."

"Well, yeah. That makes sense." Minho says and you nod, "Yeah, Eden can talk to the three boys. He's always been good at all that."

The lack of protests from your friends indicate their approval and after talking about the quest for a few more minutes, Apollo leaves your table.

"So," Jisung chimes in as soon as his father is out of sight, "Our Y/n has been dueling with Lee Felix?"

You let out an exasperated growl, "Oh God, Jisung! It was just today!"

Jisung snickers and sticks out his tongue, rendering your words useless. Minho raises an eyebrow at your banter while the other boys giggle, "Eden tells me you are already smitten."

Eden! God, that Eden, you mentally vow to punch that smirk off of Eden's face the next time you see him. Why does he keep pushing ridiculous ideas into other people's head!

"I'm not smitten -"

"Who are you talking about?"

Your blood runs dry.

Please tell me Felix didn't just overhear this one conversation which includes me having a crush on him.

"Hey, Lix." Hyunjin laughs, "Took you three long enough to get here I went to your room like an hour ago."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, guilty, "Changbin spilled water on my favorite sweatshirt. "

A short guy - probably Changbin - slaps Felix's back. "Ouch!"

"Liar!" Felix rolls his eyes, turning to speak with you, "Anyway, y/n, I'm assuming you're the only to not have met my brothers yet."

"Yeah, i think so." You reply with a small smile.

Felix pats the back of the two boys on his right and left respectively. "Chan, Changbin, meet y/n, she's Zeus' daughter and y/n, meet Chan, he's Poseidon's son and Changbin - Ares' son."

Oh wow that is a new combination.

The guy introduced as Chan has a kind smile and messy brown hair while the Changbin dude has jet black hair and very intimidating eyes. He looks up and down your form, as if checking whether you were worth being Felix's friend - vibe checking, if you may.

"Hi, I'm y/n."

With the introductions done and dinner served, your group of old and new friends enjoy this peaceful evening together. The loud laughs and sassy remarks and friendly banters make you feel somewhat calm, but a part of you knows this isn't for long.

It’s like the calm before the storm.

"So, are we meeting for practice tomorrow too?" Felix whispers into your ears when he finds the others too indulged in conversation.

Your heart picks up its pace but you manage to nod with pink cheeks, "Yes. Same time as today."

A few seats away from you, Changbin overhears your conversation and decides that he doesn't really like you.

Taglist: @chogiwow@ctrlaltfangirl@blueprint-han@whattaweeb@bigskzz@judewalid@kpopssuregi@crispy-chan@cookielino@rebelspy@persassystilinski@stayctday@charlieshelves

Note: Please DM or send an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist!

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

Perfect Cocktail - N. Horan Imagine (18+)

NOTE: This is my first attempt at writing actual smut so please show mercy! ALSO DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE BELOW THE AGE OF 18!

taglist; @fedorable-killjoys @isisferreira27 @coconutdawn @swiftmendeshoran

The gloss on her lips caught Niall’s eye first. The pout they formed by default whenever a confident stranger waltzed up to give their best line revealed sinful temptations. But when they separated a small amount to spew an answer and her eyebrows rose in a challenge, Niall felt his chances increase that much more as each person was turned away. Finally, when he had finished downing his third pint and found a gap in the music, he maneuvered his body from the leather seats of the booth his friends were sat at for the past hour and let the stirring in his pants direct his feet to the bar.

“Evening.” His smirk is barely decipherable beneath the dim glow of the bar lights and his eyes, filled with hunger, danced across her bare legs. Her thighs were hardly covered by the form-fitting dress and the stilettos hugging her crossed ankles made her skin appear particularly delectable. The painted, pouting lips left the glass of scotch and when the taunting gaze of the stranger finally met Niall’s, her eyes widened in recognition.

“You know me?” He more-so announces than questions over the pound of glass on the dark, wood bar.

“You have a familiar face, that’s for sure.” She remarks, allowing Niall to bask in the voice he’d been curious about since the start of the night. “Let me guess,” she locks her fingers together and lays them over one of her freshly shaved knees, “you want your ‘designated seat’ back.”

“Actually, I was hoping for your number.” Her dark-coated lashes flutter in a succession of surprised blinks. Scoffing, her lips fall from their part and separate in awe.

“You sure don’t waste time.”

“Well, small talk only gets in the way, right?” Normally, Y/N would have cringed at the fact that the artist used his own line to get ten digits in his phone. But the only reason she refused to hand out her number to any other contender that night was that she caught sight of him earlier in the night, too. A small hope grew inside of her with each person she turned down, and each subtle glance he delivered her afterward. They were both fishing for each other, it seemed. And Y/N was ready to finish reeling him in.

Humming, she nods. “I admire your efficiency.” A manicured finger grips one of Niall’s belt loops without the man’s permission and tugs him closer to her sitting frame. Tilting her head up, she allows Niall a deep inhale of her perfume and peruse of her neck that he so eagerly wanted to litter with bites and marks. “How about we speed this up a little more? I’ll give you my address and you get the Uber.” Her warm breath and wet lips barely grazed the shell of his ear and Niall felt his pants tighten at an incredible rate. Seconds later, he was fishing his phone from his pocket and typing the fastest he ever had.

----------------------------------

Her whimpers were a symphony, the bouncing whines entering Niall’s ears were gratifying and motivating each movement of his slender digits. The few fingers he had been teasing her entrance with the last few minutes were highlighted by the small glow of the bedside lamp. Niall observed the nectar varnishing his fingers with a low chuckle. That noise was enough to make the knots inside of Y/N tighter, but Niall bringing the sticky wetness to his pink mouth for a sample had her bucking her hips up, impossibly keen. The sinful suck that echoed around the bedroom and moan that followed after was a catalyst for her lips to begin trembling.

Her hips bucked upward once more but were stopped halfway by Niall’s calloused hand. He pulled his other away from his mouth with a sultry smile. Though he is a massive fan of Guinness, he is convinced that the taste of her is truly the perfect cocktail.

“You taste so sweet, petal. I think I’m gonna need more.” Both were panting from the steamy tension surrounding them. As badly as her legs wanted to clamp shut, she allowed Niall’s hands to pull them apart and present herself to him. “Fuck, such a beautiful pussy.” He whispered, admiring her wet, dripping center in all its glory. He elicits a sinister chuckle as his head nears the place his fingers once were and begins placing small kisses and bites along her thighs.

“Niall, please just—” Her breathing becomes shattered and forming words is now an impossible task as her clit is met with a small, hasty lick of his tongue. Next, the pink muscle runs between her lips, separating them much like her thighs for a better taste of her wetness. He groans as the flavor introduces itself to his taste buds once more and not long after he is burying his face so far against her middle her hands are grasping her bedsheets in desperation. Her body is writhing violently against the bed despite Niall’s hold against her legs and continuous growls to stay still.

“You want to come, don’t you?” She whimpers in desperation when Niall brings his head away. His mouth and everything surrounding it was now coated in her slick juice.

“Yes.” She breathes, chest heaving. Her hips jerk slightly when Niall’s hand administers a slap to her thigh.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir.” She squeaks, cheeks reddening.

“Then be a good girl and stay still for me.” Slurping noises and blissful moans follow his direction, as he brings his face down to her once more. His tongue darts back and forth from her dripping hole to her sensitive clit. Occasionally his lips would suck the small nub and earn delighted squeals in return.

“Niall, I’m gonna—I’m gonna come! Sir, please make me come!”

“That’s it petal, say my name.” He encourages, focusing all his attention on her pleasure. Somewhere in the midst of him viciously eating her out, her fingers abandoned the bedsheets to tangle themselves in his brunet tendrils. The groan Niall let out as her fingernails grazed at his scalp only pleasured her further. His grip on her legs grew impossibly hard, and she reveled in the possibility of having bruises there tomorrow. The ever-tightening feeling in her abdomen unraveled not long after as she screamed Niall’s name like a deity one would pray to. The harsh flicks of his tongue prolonged her high, and when she was prepared for him to pull his mouth from her center, the thrumming of her heart against her ribcage quickened when he didn’t.

“Wait, Niall.” She tugged against his locks and mewled as the sweet vibrations of his moan made contact with her skin again.

“What? You didn’t think I was done, did you petal?” One of his hands loosens its grip on her leg and travels to her hole. He inserts three of his digits inside of her, keeping her bottom half down with his other hand as she desperately tried fucking herself against the slow-pistoning fingers. “I’m gonna suck you dry.” He declares, removing his fingers and licking them clean as he did earlier. “And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, lips now lacking their glossy sheen from her constant licking and biting of them. Another low chuckle sounds from him as his tongue darts to get a taste of the substance on his chin.

“Good.” He replies before returning for more of his perfect cocktail.

#niall horan #niall james horan #niall horan imagines #niall horan imagine #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #Niall Horan smut #Niall Horan fluff #Niall Horan angst #Niall Horan blurb #Niall Horan oneshot #niall horan x reader #niall horan x you #niall horan x y/n

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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years

Note

Hey Roman, Logan! Side note: we just found out you guys are Fate Touched. So. That explains quite a bit. Ask her radiance if you wanna know more :) - 🗡

”So I can assume you already know about Virgil's situation?" Logan asks, frowning slightly as he tries to puzzle out what all he should say in this situation. Goddess or not, he's not sure if it's safe to tell her the extent of what he's seen…

Eilistraee nods, "I know about his Sorcery. —Do not worry, Logan. I wouldn't tell the Sisters or their cults unless I had to. If I was planning on handing him over to be executed by the Gods, I would not have helped you save him."

Logan finds himself believing her. But, before he can let the existential dread of what they’re discussing — Which amounts, most probably, to interplanar treason — settle in, he has to comment,

"I don't remember telling you my name."

Eilistraee smiles at that, like she knows something he doesn't. Which, Logan will reluctantly admit, is possible in this specific circumstance.

"Virgil has told me about each of you. —And, of course, you and I are already acquainted." She smiles at Roman, who nods.

"I hope you aren't insulted that I haven't visited in… over a century?"

"We were both busy~" She teases, as if a century is anything to a Goddess.

"I'm not sure what is going on." Logan admits, getting them back on track once he's come to terms with the fact that he is, in fact, doing this.

"By all means, almost everything I've seen him do over these past few days should be impossible. He's wielded Mythal magic, changed the flow of time, and experienced more frequent Wild Surges than any wild magic Sorcerer I have ever heard of. I thought, initially, that he had been born with the power... But, if those spell-scars are any indication, he was not. Still, I've never seen spellscars of that shape or size."

"And they're angrier than before!" Roman cuts in, "I had seen his arm under those bandages a few nights ago, and they didn't look nearly that bad. But we didn't encounter any wild magic between then and now, so I don't know how they could have gotten worse…?"

"Virgil's current power is not something he was born with, that much is true." Eilistraee nods, "He was born with magic latent within him, but he purposefully pushed it down and ignored it. What he can do now stemmed from a disastrous encounter with Nethermancy, in which he was mutated by the Far Realm."

Roman and Logan gasp, and Patton is hopelessly confused. He looks between the three spellcasters in the room, hoping one of them remembers that he is but a regular, mundane person.

"...Ne...cro...mancy?"

"No, Nether. Dark Magic." Roman stage-whispers, looking frightened.

Well, that clarifies nothing at all, Patton frowns, then turns to Logan,

"Lo, you didn't mention that one the other day. I thought you said there were only eight?"

“That is because Nethermancy no longer exists." Logan frowns. Eilistraee sighs and shakes her head,

"As most things you will find tend to be… That is not entirely true. You know your magic comes from the Weave, yes?"

All three of them nod at that, and Patton knows the beginning of a lecture when he hears one. He tries his best to keep listening as Eilistraee continues,

"You can visualize the Weave as a spiderweb. Many threads tangle together to form it, more densely interconnected in some areas and more sparse in others. When you cast a spell, you are plucking on the web. Lesser tricks only jostle one string, while great feats of magic pull on the points where many threads are connected.”

"So, the less strings we pull, the lower the spell's level?" Roman muses. She nods.

“Mystra is the spider who sits at the center, building and repairing the web, feeling the vibrations of all those who touch it and biting away those who pull too hard. After all, if you pull too harshly, the web will unravel… But the web is not the source of magic in the Universe. It is just where you mortals can syphon it from. Magic is something that has always existed, long before the gods, and will continue long after us.”

Logan nods, "The early humanoids who tried to hone magic before the Weave was woven were all destroyed, and turned into the first liches."

"So Mystra, with some help from my Father, created the Weave as a blanket." Eilistraee smiles, "A safety net, that holds raw power back and converts it into something manageable -- something mortals can access."

Logan smirks, “Which is why Elves were the first humanoids to master magic. They had an insider.”

"So like a sieve? For flour?" Patton asks, and the goddess grins at the visual. Logan nods, almost impulsively taking over the lesson,

"Sure. Now, imagine pulling a wire on that sieve out of place. There is a hole for more coarse clumps to fall through, yes?” Patton nods, and Logan smiles at him, “That is what we are doing when we cast spells. When you pull on a thread, a bit of this raw power seeps through, but the gap only releases as much as that thread once covered. The less you ask for, the less you will receive. And if you don’t cast a spell correctly, the thread isn’t pulled at all, and no magic happens.”

...Now Logan frowns, beginning to catch on to Eilistraee’s point.

"But, Nethermancy was not like that.” Logan muses aloud, “It stemmed from the Shadow Weave; the warped copy of the Weave Mystra's sister Shar invented, by mixing magic with corruption from the Far Realm."

"The Shadow Weave is the space in-between the windows in the spiderweb. The darkness between the threads. Hence, it's name." Eilistraee explains, "When you reach into it, there is nothing to decide how much you take out. And, since you have not disturbed the strings, Mystra cannot even sense that you’re there. It is lethal to reach your hand into raw magic like this, in the same way it was lethal to cast before the Weave was constructed."

"Which is why it was never active." Logan adds, cautiously, waiting for her to correct him. "Supposedly, the Blue Flame burned it out during the Spellplague, before it's creator ever used it. Or, so everyone was led to believe…?"

Eilistraee nods, "The Shadow Weave was never destroyed. Shar lost control of it, but it still exists alongside the original. A spiderweb without a spider... And, by now, you are aware that my brother's kin do not follow the same rules when it comes to the lethality of raw magic."

"So, he was exposed to this Shadow Weave somehow, and now he keeps tapping into it on accident?" Roman frowns.

"Yes. Without either Sister Goddess's influence to limit him, Virgil has tethered himself to the spaces between. Now he pulls at it without trying, weakening the weave around him and accessing magic Mystra outlawed decades ago."

Eilistraee turns to Logan, suddenly very serious,

"You've done well to teach him control, but it is still something he will have to learn. He is the only thing moderating his contact with raw magic. He has no safety net to protect him if he takes too much, and no way to stop himself from doing it. This is not your usual pupil whose spell will fizzle out if they fail, his will combust. He must learn to hone his ability."

"I can teach him." Logan nods resolutely, already determined to see this through to the end. Eilistraee frowns.

"There are already many in your world who know about his mutation. Many wish to use him as a weapon on a scale you cannot imagine, and many more wish to destroy him altogether. People who will show no mercy when they come for him, and anyone who would protect him.”

Eilistraee turns to address all three of them, making an imposing figure where she towers in the middle of the room,

“You will face more peril at his side than you have ever read about in your history books, and his powers will bring untold destruction if you fail. Are you so sure you wish to involve yourself in this?"

"You'll find I already have." Logan stares her down, hoping he is more stubborn than she is, "I am not going to give up on him now. I knew it was going to be difficult when I first asked him to join me."

(So, that might be a little white lie. He didn’t know it would be so difficult that a literal Goddess would warn him to pack up and go home, but… Well, no one is going to tear him away from a project he’s already started, nor a friend who needs his help. And, after all, Logan doesn’t know anyone more qualified than himself to teach Virgil how to use magic.)

Eilistraee seems to mull over his words for a moment. Roman and Patton are keeping quiet, either letting Logan speak for them as the group’s leader or too exhausted/shocked to say anything.

...And, after an excruciating several minutes, the Goddess smiles.

"Very well then. I entrust his safety to you, Professor Logan." Eilistraee — the Goddess. What is today?! — smiles, as if as amused by the situation as Logan is winded by it.

"Don't fail him."

"We won't!" Patton cheers, elbowing Logan's thigh to shake him out of his surprised stupor. Eilistraee grins.

"We?"

"Yep! We're a bit of a package deal~" Roman nods, smiling at the other two. "And, I mean... if Logan goes on some sort of super perilous adventure and doesn't invite his resident literal Celestial, I don't even know what I would have to do! The sheer disrespect? I would throw a fit."

"You are both cordially invited to the 'super perilous adventure.'” Logan rolls his eyes, “Not that either of you ever need an invitation to insert yourselves into my travels..."

Logan tries his best not to smile, ignoring their laughter at either side of him.

"You will need more than just the three of you, I'm afraid." Eilistraee smiles,

"I have full confidence in you, but the fact remains that Virgil will also need a mentor who is, themselves, a Sorcerer. There are some skills that can only be taught from experience."

"Where are we supposed to find another Sorcerer?! It's rare enough that we found the one!" Roman whines, making Eilistraee grins.

"You are willing to aid a man you just met last week in a plot against the natural order, but you don’t think you can find one measly sorcerer?”

“Those are two totally different tasks! —Protecting people is my very specific skillset!! Finding them is not my job!” Roman blushes and pouts, and Eilistraee downright laughs. She shakes her head,

“Oh, I was just teasing, d'anthe~ Don't worry: I think he will find you, soon enough."

Eilistrae lays a hand on Roman’s cheek, “And speaking of you... I sense something is troubling you?”

Roman frowns for a moment. He sends an uneasy look at Logan and Patton...then sighs.

(If they’re all getting involved in Virgil’s surprise cosmic destiny, he supposes he might as well let them in on his…)

“It’s my Mother.” Roman sighs,

“I know she’s been ailing for a long while now, but… Something’s happened to her while I was gone, I can feel it. Something’s wrong. But my powers don’t seem to have changed at all, so...I can’t really tell.”

Eilistraee frowns, and Roman hops in again before she can speak, “I-I would contact her, but she still can’t speak to me! I don’t know how I’m supposed to help! I assume Mama has more information once we get to town, but it’s been killing me to wait in the dark. I know there are rules about how much you can meddle, but… Throw me a bone here?”

That gives the Goddess pause. She seems to debate something for a moment… Then nods.

“I can lend my aid to you for tonight, so long as you remain on land under my blessing. But, Sune is still in a very weakened state... Expect one of your Dreams tonight, little Prince.”

Roman smiles softly, trying to mask his spark of disappointment.

“...Thank you. Anything is better than no contact! But… I was never very good at deciphering those things.”

“If you need help deciphering your visions, you can always ask one of my Dark Ladies, or one of your Heartwarders. But, your Mother is a goddess of emotion; It is unlikely any of them will be able to help you more than yourself…”

Eilistraee gives him a sympathetic smile, “...Or, maybe, your usual companion in that place?”

“I doubt that.” Roman smiles back, more amused than he is dejected.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a dream with my brother. I’m starting to think he’s purposefully ignoring them… And, to be honest, I wouldn’t put that past him.”

“That may be so, but you two must reunite soon.” Eilistraee warns him with an unexpected sincerity, “Your Mother needs you both, now more than ever. You are aware that your Fate is joined with these three, but he has a part to play in all of this, too. He always has.”

“My conversations with the whispers always seem to stem back to him, that much is for sure!” Roman grumbles, to himself more than anything. Eilistraee pats his shoulder.

“The guards will lead you back to House De’anonen. The road ahead of you is long and perilous, and I don’t expect to be the last to tell you so… Now, get some rest!”

Roman nods, much too tired to argue on that point. Some young women in silver robes come to lead them out of the temple, and Roman and Patton meander after them out of the room. Logan follows behind them slowly... But, he pauses at the door.

He turns back to Eilistraee, and asks lowly,

“Nethermancy from the Far Realm…” he hums, still not quite sure what he’s trying to remember when he asks,

“That he encountered here? Outside of the Underdark?”

...Eilistrae doesn’t answer right away.

A sour look crosses her face for a moment. She sighs,

“Your curiosity is your greatest strength, Logan. It always has been.” She smiles, turning her back to him to exit the room through the farther door, “But you, of all people, should know that poking at what writhes in the grass is a dangerous game.”

She walks out of the room, her voice echoing behind her as she disappears down a long, shadowy hallway,

“Be sure you are prepared for what’s hiding there.”

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Ask 97 ( @sjrose1217 , @snowydragon10 , @amazonprimebox )

Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Roman, and Patton! (Virgil is asleep)

Eilistraee makes her exit as the party gets ready to sleep for the night, with few hours of night remaining and little energy to keep their eyes open any longer.

Now they have some hints for what is to come, but will they be able to put the pieces together? Or will the dangers she warned them about get the better of them...?

#(translation) d'anthe -- an affectionate term for a child or suboordinate #please tell me if i need to tag anything else!#lets roll #ttrpgau art #ttrpgau Eilistraee #ask rpg sanders sides #asks open #sanders sides rpg au #game lore #Her Luminous Imperial Majesty Empress Shri'Neerune Q'Xorlarrin of Drathireiv'dre #long post #long answer

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belle-keys · 3 years

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I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

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

Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

“Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

“Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

“I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

“Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

“Oh.”

Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

“I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

“No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

“Hey, Doll.”

“I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

“At what?”

“The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

“How-”

“I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

“Jesus.”

She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

“So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

“I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

“Better than you are.”

“What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

“No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.” Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

“Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

“Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

“That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

“See you then.”

As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember.

By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

“Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.

“Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

“Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

“Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

“I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

“I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

“Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

“Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her. He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

“You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

“Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

“It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

“I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

“Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

“I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

“I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

“I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

“Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

“Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

“You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

“Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

“Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

“Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

“Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

“Yes.”

Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

“May I touch you?” She nods.

“You’d better.”

It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

“Are you okay?” She nods.

“Don’t stop.”

The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

“Do you still want to-”

“If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

“I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

“Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

“I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

“Definitely.”

There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

“Can you wait a second? Please?”

“Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

“Fine. You can move now.”

She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

“I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

“I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

“Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

“Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better.

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

“I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head.

“Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

“Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

“I did.”

She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

“Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

“And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

“Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“How is it not the same thing?”

“I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

“Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

“Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

“So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

“But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

“Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

“I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

“That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

“Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

Smirking, he asks her,

“You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

“Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.” That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

“I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

“I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

“And what’s that?” The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

“Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

“So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

“Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

#marvel #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #pre civil war

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thegreatobsesso · 3 years

Text

A longer bit feat.: Callie and Simon angst. :)

Talking with @drippingmoon got me thinking of some cornerstone scenes in the enemies-to-friends slow-burn I do with these two idiots and this one, I think, stands out as the dead-center point, so I’m gonna not second-guess myself and just post it. 🥴

Tagging @thelaughingstag too! (I remembered!)

Context: Callie broke into Delaney to steal an ancient magical artifact and, believing she meant nothing but harm, Simon stopped her. But while waiting for the cops to come and drag her back to prison, Simon asks her to just tell him the truth, once and for all. Callie agrees to let him read her mind all the way back to the beginning, thinking she’s got nothing left to live for. Simon gets hit with a truckload of tragic backstory he wasn’t prepared for and is asked to follow them back to Downing Bay, the prison she’s being held in.

They’re still mentally connected, even after Simon has let go. He can hear her, and she can hear him too, which definitely isn’t normal.

Word count: 3,200

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

failure. failure. failure

She wasn’t even doing this on purpose and it wasn’t just the word reverberating through his skull.

More like a full-bodied feeling flooding his consciousness as he left Delaney, a steady stream of self-hatred punctuated only by expletives.

Stop, he begged her.

i can’t, you stop listening

I can’t.

She laughed, out loud in her cell. He heard it and felt it, over the miles that separated them, the ocean and metal and glass.

He’d overextended; that’s what caused this. It took him awhile to put it together because he’d been so upset - maybe even been in a mild state of shock, in retrospect - and he spent a lifetime being so careful with his powers that he’d never done it before to know what it was like.

And so that was bad, yes, but come on. How much longer could it last?

He was stepping onto the boat to Downing Bay when the pain started - hers, and not the torrent of existential agony he was struggling to adjust to but pain, physical and substantial.

What’s happening? he tried to ask, but it got lost - she could barely think, suddenly, let alone focus on sending him mental telegrams.

The cluster of metal buildings hovered threateningly on the horizon, and as they got closer, minds inside got louder, almost drowning Callie out. He wanted to tell them to turn around and take him away; the claustrophobia was overwhelming, the collective sense of being trapped.

The boat brought them underneath the smallest building; a scorched sign read Diagnostics in block letters with an arrow pointing up. What might’ve once been a loading dock was sectioned off with caution tape and hanging sadly down into the water, barely still attached to the rest of the infrastructure. They laid a make-shift bridge between the boat and platform to walk across.

Once inside, they asked him to empty his pockets and leave all his belongings in a small box.

“This stays with me,” he said, holding his Headmaster’s key, bronze and solid, in the palm of his hand.

“No, sir,” said the tired corrections officer, unaware of who he was. “All belongings.” She shook the plastic container for emphasis, rattling the rest of his stuff around.

“I’m the headmaster of Delaney of School for Magicians,” he said. “This is a master key and it doesn’t leave my neck. If you need to call your superiors about it, please do it, but I won’t leave it here.”

A few minutes later, he put the chain back around his neck, dropped the key down inside his shirt, and was escorted inside.

“No one’s suppressed me yet,” he said to one of prison officers. He waited until the last second; surely they knew their own duties better than he did. He didn’t wanna insult anyone, but they hadn’t done it and they were bringing him though thick, reinforced doors to the warden’s office and if not now, when?

“We’ve not been asked to, sir. This way.”

The warden smiled when Simon entered his office, waved everyone else away. He introduced himself as Warden Prescott and extended his hand - it was thin and cold when Simon shook it, despite the muggy warmth.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said. “How fares your school?”

“It’s seen worse. It looks like she hit this place harder, to be honest.”

The warden smiled, and Simon caught an image of a collection, varying people with differing characteristics on display in tiny boxes, one of them out of place. “Yes, she put on quite a show on her way out. Destroyed all our boats and did a significant amount of superficial damage, but nothing structural, thankfully.”

Of course not - living her memories alongside her showed him she made sure she didn’t hurt anyone, only crippled their ability to pursue her.

It was too warm in here and he wondered how the warden could be so buttoned up in thick polyester when he had to unbutton his own light jacket.

“A hearing will take place tomorrow morning and your presence will be required,” he began. “I suspect I know at least part of the reason why. News reached my ears that you behaved quite badly.” He made a tsk-tsk sound and shook his head at Simon like he was a naughty child.

“I did what I did,” he said flatly. “I shouldn’t have read her mind, and I accept the consequences for it, whatever they’ll be.”

“Oh, I meant absolutely no disrespect,” the warden said. “The opposite, in fact. I daresay if I had your powers, I’d like nothing more than to take a stroll through that mind of hers. She’s an interesting one. The fact that you did so might work to our advantage, in fact. You see, we’re in a bit of a bind with all this. May I speak plainly?”

“I wish you would,” he said. The warden was carrying his collection of dolls in his mind, all unique and valuable and distinctly dehumanized, and Callie’s thoughts were still flowing like a steady IV drip, making him feel irritable and short.

“Well, Mister Bennett, the facts are as such: we’ve got a limited testimony from you that the authorities will need expanded upon, that says you’ve seen the original crime in the first person, and your account differs wildly from the one she’s given. There are additional crimes stacked up past that - her escape from prison and attempted theft of an undisclosed item from your school. And the world wants to know how an infamous killer managed to become the first person in history to escape Downing Bay.”

“It’s a valid question for them to ask.”

“With an undesirable answer. But I think you’re in pain, Mister Bennett. Do you need a doctor?”

He was, but it wasn’t his own injuries that made wince.

“It’s her,” he groaned. “You’re hurting her, what are you doing?”

The warden sighed. “Come,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

He took Simon down the hall, into a sterile room filled with recording equipment and a solid wall of glass. On the other side of the it, Callie. She sat a bare table in prison scrubs, hands cuffed to its surface. IVs were inserted in both her arms, the needles taped down, liquid flowing from bags hanging behind her. The metal collar around her neck flashed blips of red, yellow and green, reminding him absurdly of a Christmas tree.

She bit her lip and shuffled restlessly, an involuntary response to the pain she was trying to ignore.

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said.

“To be fair, this isn’t what diagnostics usually looks like,” the warden said while he swallowed down a wave of sickness. “Typically, we focus on finding a long-term suppressive solution that both nullifies abilities and has minimal side effects for the prisoner. We are, unfortunately, in disaster minimization mode rather than long-term maintenance with your friend here.”

This was the strain being put on her body - the combination of every drug known to medicine that could hold back the expression of magic for any amount of time at all. “She’s not my friend,” he muttered. “Isn’t this unethical?”

“Should we allow all her power to rush back in so she can kill my people and escape again?”

“She’s not killing anyone,” Simon said with certainty.

“That’s not what she said a few hours ago,” the warden recalled. “We had no less than five guards trying to process her and she threatened their lives.”

Dammit. “What we you doing to her?”

“Attempting to place her segregation.”

He resisted the urge to groan in frustration, to punch the glass in front of him. “She didn’t mean it,” he muttered, not relishing the job of being her translator. “She’s terrified of solitary confinement, she just didn’t wanna go.”

“That’s unfortunate, given that we can’t very well place her back into general population. This is all that’s left, a quarantine unit, meant for contagious disease.”

On the other side of the glass, Callie squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head. A fresh wave of pain ran over him too.

how much longer, how much more?

“How long can you keep this up, these stop-gap measures? Surely they won’t work forever.”

Warden Prescott raised his eyebrows. “These measures aren’t even working very well, Mister Bennett. I daresay if she wanted to, she could be gone before nightfall. I’m afraid she’s only here at her pleasure.”

Pleasure? He looked back at her in the next room, her face contorted. “You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was,” Warden Prescott said, with a small smile. “We’re in the dark here, fumbling through uncharted territory without a map. She’s got my best techs feeling like children when they try to interpret the results of all this treatment. She’s a thing that isn’t supposed to exist: a hybrid. Focused magic and Eclectic, all at once.”

The implications of the warden’s words began to stack up in his already overtaxed mind and part of him thought, ridiculously, of a vacation. Of sitting on a beach with a book getting a suntan, drinking something with a slice of pineapple on the rim, smoking a cigarette or two or fifty - of not having a care in the world, for just a little while.

A hybrid, then. Focused and Eclectic.

He’d walked through her life with her and even she didn’t understand that, not really, not in such terms. She, and everyone else who knew what she’d done to Peter, had thought of it like an acquisition of new powers; not a fundamental genetic change.

Did Riley know this? Riley, who gathered Callie’s DNA and did extensive testing on it, who still had it?

“Has anybody been in touch with the family?” he asked, unwilling to explain why he was asking.

“I know someone’s reached out,” the warden said. “I don’t believe there was any reply.”

No, he supposed not. Riley would want nothing to do with any of this. Still, she had to be sweating, didn’t she? How could she know Callie still held up her end of their deal?

“I wonder,” Warden Prescott drawled, “if your trip through her mind was quite so extensive that if she were back inside your school, right now, you’d trust her not to hurt anyone.”

“It was,” he said. “And I would.”

He couldn’t imagine this would be easy for anyone else to swallow. He certainly wouldn’t believe it himself without first-hand insight. “I want to talk to her.”

The warden nodded his assent at the guards lining the wall.

“As I said, everyone wants to know how she managed to escape,” he said, walking Simon around to the entrance of the adjacent room that held Callie. “The thing I’m most curious about it why she even waited so long to do it. Is that something you know, from your jaunt through her mind?”

“Yes.”

“Are you inclined to share?”

He decided earlier, definitively, that he didn’t like the warden: the way he looked at his inmates like specimens, pinned inside a case. “No,” he said.

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “Although you might be asked tomorrow, by someone more powerful than me, in a much more formal capacity. We’ll be leaning on your expertise considerably to entangle that mind of hers.” He shook his head in admiration. “The unsuppressable Callie Ray.��

“I wouldn’t toss that around,” he muttered.

“Why not?”

The guard undid a stack of locks on the quarantine room door. “I don’t want her hearing it,” he said as they pushed the door open. “She’ll like it too much.”

—

Little black cameras dotted the corners of the room; he knew the warden would be listening on the other side of the glass where’d they’d just come from, and he was certain they were being recorded too.

She lifted her head, smirked at the sight of him. “I’d say hello,” she said, her voice scratchy. “But it’s like I never left you, isn’t it?”

She looked awful. Her red-rimmed eyes matched her hair; one was still swollen, decorated in bruises. “I am sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for this.” He gestured between his head and hers.

he just says it, just like that

“Did you get a good spanking for it? I’m sure nobody expected that from their golden boy.”

Her words were hollow to him now; they washed over him uselessly and left him thoroughly unimpressed. He pulled up a chair and sat opposite her at the steel table, mirroring her position with his hands folded in front of him, except for the absence of cuffs, obviously.

We could talk like this, he said, if you don’t want them to listen.

A jumbled negative reply came across their connection. He nodded.

“There’s a whole team of people on the other side of the door, trying to figure out the best ways to keep your magic suppressed on a minute-to-minute basis,” he said.

“Can you believe it?” She tried for a smile, but it was poorly constructed. “All this for little old me.”

“Well, you’ve convinced the world you’re a dangerous monster and now you’re being treated like one. You did this to yourself.”

“Did you hear me complaining?”

Another wave of gnawing pain; she was sweating, her jumpsuit damp in the armpits. It hit him too, surely just a fraction of what it felt like for her, and he’d already had enough.

“Just tell them,” he said. “Tell them what I know, that it was an accident from the start and you don’t wanna hurt anyone else, and they might let up.”

“I don’t want them to,” she said, voice strained, hanging onto composure by a thread. “I like the pain.”

if I’m in pain I’m getting what I deserve I don’t have to feel guilty

He’d never felt a mind twisted up into knots like this, how did it get this way?

“Is that why you’re still here?” he asked. He looked toward the glass where he knew Warden Prescott was still standing, watching and listening. “They know you’re letting this happen. That if you wanted to, you could stop it.”

She blinked; a powerful emptiness surged up inside her. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

It wasn’t a rhetorical question - she was interested in an answer if he had one, but he didn’t. He lived her life alongside her in a compressed whirlwind of tightly-packed failures and she had no family to take her in, Delaney certainly wouldn’t have her, there were no relationships, no friends…

He pulled back; it hurt to be near.

“Just because you say you’re not gonna try to escape again…” He fumbled, trying to lay out the mess. “They still can’t hold you on your word, Callie. You’ve got the public frightened that Downing Bay can’t hold you and the authorities are scared you’re gonna prove it.”

She nodded and winced; something crossed her mind too quickly for him to get a good look. “What are they gonna do to me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think they do either.”

“Why don’t they just kill me?”

The way she said these things - it was infuriating. “They can’t just execute someone because they don’t know what else to do with them.” He narrowed his eyes like it might help him see her clearer. “Is that what you want? To die?”

She rolled it around in her head. “Not really,” she shrugged. “But I don’t really wanna live either.”

Hopelessness emanated from her; he felt her future the way she saw it, a vast, meaningless chasm of nothing. It made him want to scream.

“Don’t,” she snarled, her awareness of their connection snapping to life. “Don’t you feel sorry for me, you jackass. I don’t want your pity, I’d rather you spit in my eye.”

“I can’t help it,” he groaned. “You sit there acting like this while… it’s, it’s like two different radio stations blasting into each of my ears, I can’t think.”

She swallowed thickly, like she was nauseous. “Do you wanna know exactly how much sympathy I have for you right now?”

“No.”

“Zero,” she said anyway. “Nobody made you drill yourself your own personal pipeline into my brain.”

“That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“Oh, so sad,” she pouted, turning her bottom lip out. “You made your first mistake. Feels like shit, doesn’t it?”

he’ll tell everybody, then everyone will know how stupid, how useless, how embarrassing, and he’s listening to you RIGHT NOW, he knows it all, i wish i WAS dead so i didn’t have to, would be easier than this-

“You let me think you did it on purpose,” he bit out, too overwhelmed to hold it back. “You let me think the absolute worst of you.”

“The worst of me is the truth, the shit you know now.”

“No, it’s not. What you are is not worse than a cold-blooded killer, a, a liar, somebody I could spend the rest of my life feeling like a fool for letting in, how do you justify doing that to me?”

She shrugged, blinked slowly, helplessly, like she couldn’t believe she had to put words to something so simple. “I… the damage was done.”

He scoffed - he couldn’t help it. “It wasn’t. There was a lot more damage left to do, and you did it. You did it all.”

Anger, fresh and bitter, burned through their connection.

i was trying to fix it if you would’ve just walked away none of this would be happening i could have made it go away-

“At what cost?” he asked. It would sound like a non sequitur to everyone listening but he didn’t care. “Even if the orblex could do what you were planning, you can’t possibly predict how it would’ve worked. Did you think it would just drop you off on Christmas twelve years ago and let you start again? No one knows how Time magic works and you wanted to just unleash it. For all you know you could have ripped the world apart.”

Disbelief. how could he say something like that?

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked. A crack in her voice - a tear springing from her eye that hadn’t been there a moment before, rolling down her cheek. “You wouldn’t take that risk, Bennett? To bring him back?”

He wanted to say no, but it got stuck in his throat. She still grieved for him, as hard as he ever did, and it annihilated the space between them, blurred the final lines.

He pushed his chair back and got up - he needed a second. Not to be looking at her, not to be sharing feelings.

“Where are you going?”

are you leaving? don’t leave

He clasped his hands behind his head, breathed in and out, shut his eyes.

say something say something say something say something-

“There’s gonna be a hearing tomorrow,” he said, cutting off the flood of her thoughts she couldn’t control. “Or, not a hearing. A discussion, I guess.”

He turned to face her again; she was listening with rapt attention. She hadn’t been told yet.

“They’re gonna talk about whether there’s any kind of precedent they can fall back on for this, anything at all. I don’t know if they want me there as a witness or a human lie detector, but they asked me to stay for it and I’m staying. After that, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll see you again, maybe I won’t. I have to think this-”

He gestured to the space between their heads again, at a loss for what to call it. “This’ll fade with time and distance. It’ll have to. It can’t stay forever.”

It couldn’t, could it?

#tw: suicidal ideation #tw: swears #tw: prison #writing #writing snippet #writing excerpt #original novel #my wip #oc: callie #oc: simon

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

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y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #relationships i guess #internet stuff #this went in a bigger direction that i thought it would lmao #but anyway

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daydreambouquet · 3 years

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Zack never survived the Nibel Reactor and therefore couldn't rescue Cloud from Hojo's clutches. From this single point of divergence, the story unfolds.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” - Cid Highwind

Preview of Chapter 23 - The Ancient Temple

“That must be it,” Cid says as he circles the Wutai carrier above a strip of tropic islands. Azure waters shimmer against sandy white shorelines, and rocky beaches press beneath thick jungle canopies.

Despite the otherwise clear weather, dense fog covers an island in the archipelago. Poking above the obscured tree line is the tip of a jet-black temple whose composition alters from glossy to matte with each strike of sunlight.

“Well, that’s...ominous,” Aerith says, leaning against the window.

Cloud couldn’t agree more. The hues of sky near the temple’s apex are sour yellow, and flocks of parrots spiral to avoid its vicinity.

“Can we get on the ground now?” Yuffie moans from the cabin. She’s curled on the floor to stymie her motion sickness while Barret paces and periodically curses Cait Sith.

“I knew that mother-fucker was up to no good,” Barret kept saying, but now that the temple is close, he stands beside Tifa near the pilot’s chair. “That don’t look like something the Cetra could build.”

It’s true. The angle of the crux is perfect. The material has a deep smooth luster that shifts dark colors and mirrors its surroundings like a window into a shadowed world. The Cetra are an ancient race, presumably without the tools or capabilities for such precision. But more importantly, this place does not appear welcoming. And weren’t the Cetra benevolent custodians of the Planet?

Tifa’s arm brushes against Cloud as she points at a clearing near the edge of the fog.

“There, look,” she says.

A Shinra helicopter sits motionless and vacant. Its windows carry a sheen of translucent dust.

“The hell? That it? No troops?” Barret asks.

It’s strange. There should be more Shinra officials or patrolling Turks. But aside from the scurrying lizards, there are little signs of life.

Nanaki stretches and lifts his nose to peer out. Vincent crosses his arms, watching without comment.

“Shinra knows we are coming,” Nanaki says.

Yet maybe not. They have the keystone, so perhaps they’ve already plundered whatever treasure lay within, though judging by the look on Aerith’s face this seems unlikely. She’s concentrating hard as if deciphering a masterful puzzle.

Tifa smiles over at Cloud. He hasn’t spoken to her about last night, but it doesn’t feel necessary. Nothing between her is uncomfortable. Affections turned tangible, and neither has regrets. He likes that he can trust this sensation. It seems the only unquestionable piece of him.

Cid lands the carrier next to the Shinra chopper because there is nowhere else in the temple’s vicinity, and Aerith asks him to get as close as possible.

When he cuts the engines and slides open the doors, a cacophony of jungle noises and hot muggy air assaults them. Giant insects buzz by, and curious predators slink in the outskirts of their arrival. The Shinra chopper rests inert with one door open, interior console blinking on standby as if the pilot had been in an extreme hurry.

The wall of fog is ahead, and beyond that, the temple rises.

The group hesitates. Yuffie swats at a fat mosquito. Nanaki tilts his head at the screen of mist.

“Is it...safe?” Tifa asks, but of course, nobody knows.

Cloud steps into the fog. Immediately, he’s cut off into another world of compact, quiet forest. The distant chirp of birds is behind him, and the sun is blotted out.

“It’s fine,” he reports, inhaling the odorless mist. “Just fog. Must be a weird weather phenomenon.”

There’s nothing alive in the jungle on this side of the border. The trees are frozen in full bloom, but no wind rustles the foliage. The shades of green seem muted and timeless. Cloud touches the leaves from a vine growing around a tree, and the particles turn to dust in his fingers.

The others enter behind him until the fog encompasses them all. Aerith leads the way forward. The peak of the temple somehow seems more prominent now and dominates the skies.

They follow her in silence, though Cloud insists on taking point in case of Shinra ambush. But as they venture forward, that possibility seems far remote. There is nothing and no one around. The temperature drops as they weave through the jungle in the shadow of the temple. Their boots crunch over dry leaves and brittle vines.

The base of the temple appears like a sudden sheet of milky glass. There are no markings in its facade nor windows or entry of any kind. The mist creates a low ceiling, the illusion of suffocation. As the others wander on, following the structure’s perimeter, Cloud finds himself caught in the intrigue of his reflection. Whenever he glances away, it distends and reintegrates, shimmers and dissolves. Then when he looks again, right at it, the doppelganger disappears and only his own pale blues stare back. He does this double-take four, then five times before a shout calls his attention.

Tifa yells from a distance. The entire party has moved on, and he rushes through the fog along the temple wall, ignoring the sensation of something at his heels.

He finds Aerith equally enthralled nearby. She stands alone, pressing a hand against the temple.

“Did you hear Tifa?” he asks because she’s acting as though she has not. She’s captivated, and his presence startles her.

“I...I can hear something else,” she says. He gets close and listens. Ahead, he hears the commotion of their friends but no urgent cries. No nearby fauna. He hears nothing else.

“The Ancients?” he guesses.

“I don’t know,” Aerith says. “There are many of them.”

Tifa shouts again, and this time it’s in dismay. Alarm. She calls everyone over. Aerith and Cloud move together, and a gap in the mist opens up.

Tifa kneels near a Turk lying on the ground. Red soaks the white shirt beneath the black jacket from a deep slash. He bubbles blood from his lips.

“Tseng!” Aerith runs to his side. “Oh no. No, this can’t be!”

Barret, Cid, and Vincent stand apart, unhelpful, as Tseng sputters a painful-sounding cough. Yuffie and Nanaki are staring at the droplets of blood leading into a narrow archway in the temple. A pattern as if shaken from a long, slender sword. A masamune.

And the entrance, a pyramidal door, beckons into utter black.

Inserted into an indent below is the meteorite. The keystone. Dio’s collector item, unlocking a thousand secrets. Cloud cannot look away.

“Help him!” Aerith says. “Cloud, give me your Restore.”

He pulls his eyes to the suffering Turk. Tseng’s long black hair hangs over a desperate dirt-streaked face. But Tseng is the enemy and a victim of Sephiroth. The General must’ve been here, sought the keystone, and taken it. Which means he’s just ahead. Inside the temple.

“We were wrong...” Tseng whispers. His hands tremble. “It’s not...the Promised Land he’s...”

Aerith soothes him. When the others don’t help her, she explains, “He was always kind to me. The Turks have followed me all my life, but that doesn’t mean any of them deserve to die. Don’t you see?” Her pleading eyes go to Cloud.

He waits, expecting her to whisk a healing breeze out of thin air, but she doesn’t. Maybe she can’t, or maybe Tseng’s wounds aren’t that severe. Sephiroth would’ve killed him if he’d wanted to. But whatever lay ahead was more appealing than Tseng’s death. The Turk wasn’t worth the time.

Cloud steps over Tseng’s body and approaches the entrance. Nanaki and Yuffie stand aside, but he pauses at the gaping void. Cold air coils from the other side, wraps around his forearms. Someone says his name. He thinks it’s Aerith.

Behind him, he sees her kneeling with blood on her dress. Tifa crosses her arms, and Barret gives Cloud a wary look. Cid paces, and Vincent cranes his neck to survey the temple’s peak. Aerith won’t leave Tseng’s side.

Cloud pops the Restore from his sword and tosses it to Aerith. Then he crosses the threshold.

An immediate cool disseminates like static across his skin. The world behind fades away. He hears Aerith activate the Restore, but the swirl of green light doesn’t reach him. The void pulls him forward, and the darkness shifts like a tangible being, becoming darker and lighter as if creatures were moving in its depths. The hallway is longer than it seems, extending beyond the visible footprint of the temple.

Then a rush hits him. It isn’t a physical sensation, but he knows he is falling. On impulse, he curls, shielding his head, yet his feet never leave the ground. The surroundings come up instead of him going down.

A harsh light flares, and in an instant he is outside, overlooking a vast complex of labyrinthine structures: staircases and archways, open-air walkways that loop into corners and angles of confusing geometry. Everything is pale stone and unadorned. The ledge where he stands is crumbled and worn, leading into a stairway that seems undisturbed for eons. The sky is a malachite haze.

#ao3 #fanfiction #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 fanfic #cloud strife #black materia #zack dies earlier

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