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believemetheodore · 1 year

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Picture Perfect Pt. 2

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Rebecca sees Ted twice more in the following weeks.

Once for coffee and to review some of the shots, she's always liked having a preview when the photographer and the brand or magazine allow it.

The images are striking in a way she hadn’t imagined they would be, and she finds herself enamoured with how Ted has managed to capture her in a way that is both bright and bubbly, but also undeniably badass.

Rupert had loved to remind her how cold he believed her to be, and she’d agreed with him then. Learning to see only the worst parts of herself. Now, more than ever, it’s clear to see that her strength is not synonymous with indifference, or an icy heart. She is multifaceted, and she doesn’t need to apologize for that, and she certainly doesn’t need to change to fit anyone’s narrative, either.

Trust, honesty, and love are important to her. And, while Rebecca has been denied those basic comforts, she has deprived herself of them as well. Like some kind of pseudo-self punishment, the continuation of a cycle someone else started. But, it's time to break the habit. She deserves to be able to surround herself with people who share those values, and who appreciate her in her entirety, not just the bits and pieces they choose. Happiness, she’s learning, shouldn’t require you to sacrifice yourself. She thinks she might be on the right track.

The second time she sees Ted is at a cocktail party and fundraising event for the local children's hospital.

“Ted! I had no idea you were coming tonight”. “It’s for a good cause. And, truth be told, I’ll take anything as an excuse to get dressed up,” Ted smiles. His eyes, soft and playful.

In daily life, Ted always showed up well-groomed, his khakis and button-ups ironed, and his little sweaters always tidy and well-fitting.

She shouldn’t be surprised that he knows how to wear a suit well. The fit is perfect, and his burgundy tie is the perfect contrast to his navy blue suit. She looks down to confirm that his usual Nikes have been swapped out for polished brown leather dress shoes. His hair is perfectly styled, and she shoves down a sudden flood of disappointment when she realizes that the stubborn strand at the front hasn’t had a chance to fall loose yet. His mustache has been freshly trimmed, and she tries to remember if she’s ever found facial hair attractive before. She chooses to ignore the way her mind lingers on the word attracted.

“Well, you clean up nicely, Mr Lasso”. “I appreciate you sayin’ that. That’s a lovely dress you’ve got on there; you’re wearing the heck out of it, hope you don’t mind me saying”.

She doesn’t mind him saying. The only other comment on her gown she’s gotten was from a distant acquaintance in an attempt to change the subject after asking too many questions about her divorce.

She’d spent hours in her closet trying to pick the perfect dress. The shimmering, black fabric and the asymmetrical design caught her eye immediately, reminding her of a dress just like it in Vogue years ago. It was still the last dress she had tried on, too, worried that she might be unable to pull it off.

She blushes at Ted’s compliment, genuinely flattered, “Oh--thank you, Ted”. He nods. “How did you find out about the event, Ted? Sorry-- I don’t mean to be blunt, but I didn’t think you had many connections in London yet”. “Not many, but a few great ones. My pal Roy Kent, his sister, works at the hospital. And his girlfriend is running this shindig--”. “Yes, my friend Keeley,” Rebecca twinkles. “You know, I cannot believe I hadn’t put that together until just now,” he laughs. “So, you know Roy-- Speak of the devil”. Roy grunts his acknowledgement with a hello in the form of a head nod.

“Roy,” Rebecca greets, “Keeley said you weren’t going to make it”. “Schedule got shuffled,” he shrugs, pulling her into a friendly hug with a kiss on her cheek.

She's known Roy for years, he started out as a personal assistant in the industry, and she'd gotten to know him at shoots, events, and meetings over the years. And by the time she was engaged to Rupert, Roy was heading projects on his own as a creative director. She’s always admired Roy, he’s never been afraid to confront problems head-on, and his eye for detail is impeccable. He grew up in a really rough and tumble neighbourhood; he learned how to be tough fast. He’s tough and occasionally harsh, but he’s always fair.

Despite his hard exterior, and stern frown, Rebecca knows that Roy is a big softie at heart. He cares, and it shows in his work and his dedication to his craft. Still, she has to have a bit of a laugh imagining what any form of an extended conversation between Ted and Roy would be like. Ted’s loquacious nature, and gentle humour. Roy’s sarcasm, punctuated by his huffs and grunts. Quite the pair.

“I’ve been meaning to get in contact, actually, Rebecca. I have a project coming up soon,” Roy says, “It’s still a little hush-hush at the moment, so I can’t tell you much about it. But, it’s a solid piece. I was planning on putting you up for the feature article”. “That’s a huge deal, Roy,” Rebecca nearly chokes on her champagne. “This is what I do for a living. I see hundreds of proposals and design briefs. I veto garments and locations. I have a vision of what the end product is going to be,” he sighs but continues, “Stop worrying about what you should or shouldn’t do. Worry about what you want to do. I’ll get Keeley to give you the full project brief when it’s finalized”.

All three of them are quiet for a moment before Ted offers,

“I know it ain’t really my business, but I just gotta say I know that whatever the project is, it’s going to be amazing. Rebecca Welton and Roy Kent? Well, great, plus great, equals great. The math is all there”.

“Maths,” Roy corrects. “Plural? Really? Who would ever want more math?” Roy shrugs, and Rebecca snorts out a laugh.

Roy, true to his word, has the relevant documents arriving in her inbox shortly after 9 am the following morning. A new collaboration with an art collective magazine, Richmond, looking to create a feature that would highlight, and celebrate women in the modelling world. The team had agreed with Roy; they want Rebecca to be their big feature. A four-page spread, including an interview, and creative photography segment.

The opportunity is unique and definitely promising. After re-reading the email several times, Rebecca forwards it to Keeley, asking her to review it, and negotiate the specifics with the magazine.

Life moves quickly when you're as busy as Rebecca Welton. From sun up to sun down, she has something to do, meeting with shareholders, spread approvals, networking, paperwork, meetings with decorators and chefs, luncheons, meetings with brand executives, meetings with publishers; all of that for work alone. She's also managing her personal brand, and she owes Keeley her life for keeping everything in order for her.

Her glass of white wine is the highlight of her day, a moment of calm in the privacy of her own home.

But, tonight, she can't seem to relax. Tomorrow’s big photoshoot is weighing heavy on her mind. The interview portion had been completed last week. She'd blown through it. She can talk about herself and her aspirations no problem in a professional setting. She's done plenty of press in her role as publication owner, and answering questions for many reporters since her divorce from Rupert. She'd never worried about interviewing for the article. She is, however, worried about the photoshoot.

Of course, she's done hundreds of shoots before. But all of those photographs, all of those garments, and poses, it was all to sell something. She was convincing people to purchase clothing, shoes, and cosmetics. Tomorrow there will be nothing to sell, her only instruction from Roy was “be yourself, Rebecca”. As if that could possibly help her.

Modelling has always been an escape from her real life. A moment in time where she gets to be a different person, a caricature of herself. For a few hours, she gets to play a part, she disappears, and all that's left is a life she's selling.

Now, she's expected to be herself, to make an audience like her, not just her face, or her body. She’s not sure how to do that. She's not sure she can.

Her phone chimes while she's pouring a second glass of Chardonnay. It's Ted Lasso.

Evening, I just wanted to say good luck tomorrow. 🤩

If someone had told her three months ago, that she'd be tearing up at a text message from an idiosyncratic, mustached American, she would've laughed.

He works his way into her heart without even trying. Every terrible pun and anecdote has her mildly in awe of him (though she'll never admit it). He's honest, and relentlessly nice, potentially to a fault. Without her notice, Ted has managed to scale many of the walls she's built up around herself. She's happy to consider him a friend now.

But damn him for making her cry over a message featuring an emoji.

Thank you, Ted.

She hesitates before adding:

Burning the midnight oil?

His response follows:

Personal project. I hope I didn't wake you up.

Not sure I'm going to be able to sleep at all tonight. (What's the project?)

Nervous? (It's a series of black and white portraits, run-of-the-mill hobby work)

Not nervous.

What if they don't like me, Ted?

You can file that under stinkin’ thinkin’. It's alright to be anxious. Heck it's to be expected. But you've gotta ask yourself why you're really so jumbled up about it. I can't tell you how you feel, but I don't think you know how easy you are to like.

Oh. She can feel her stomach flip, still blinking back tears. She refuses to start sobbing tonight. He's right. She has no idea how easy she is to like; in fact, she actively questions how she's managed to wrangle wonderful people like Keeley and Roy, and Ted into being her friends and confidants. She wonders every day what she's said to get them to stay when she's been left behind before. Being herself leaves her bare, and vulnerable. She's afraid of having nothing to hide behind. Being herself means being exposed, like a kitten showing its belly.

Opening herself up for attack, but trusting she won't get hurt.

She lets her guard down, practising for tomorrow, and life beyond, when she says:

I want to give you the biggest hug right now.

Ted answers quickly.

IOU. Go ahead and consider this a coupon to redeem the next time I see you 💙

Sleep well Rebecca.

Rebecca doesn't sleep at all.

Her mind circles back to Ted’s promise. She thinks about the last time they'd hugged, the smell of his cologne, his arms strong, safe, and inviting. Without trying, Ted continues to assert himself as a resting place in her life, a beacon of east comfort. She wonders what role she plays in his life, trying to imagine when he'll decide she isn't worth the trouble.

And as her mind, and her heart race, all she can do is hope that she sees him again soon.

She's never been more grateful for professional makeup artists before in her life. Expertly concealing her exhaustion.

The space they’re shooting in is stunning, with neutral tones, and large windows. The natural light filtering into the room is warm and instantly puts her at ease. She’s used to shooting in studios, with backdrops and powerful artificial lighting.

There are diffusers, and light boxes scattered around the space now as well, but something about this shoot feels softer. More intimate. More personal.

The clothing rack is full of floral print dresses and earth tones. Her hair is styled in soft, loose curls, and her makeup is delicate and decidedly feminine. There’s no real buffer between her and the lens today, and she feels the need to hide. She feels shy, demure almost, and it isn’t the energy she wants to project.

Glancing around the room, she realizes there are no familiar faces. The makeup artists and stylists are strangers to her today. Roy stepped out for a phone call shortly after introducing her to the photographer, and the creative team. Rebecca has never had an issue introducing herself or making acquaintances, but she doesn’t feel quite herself today. Too focused on what will be the finished product, rather than enjoying the process.

She tries her best to direct her attention back to the task at hand. Slipping into a bodycon black dress with red roses printed across it. The dress fits like a glove, and it settles her nerves, if only for a moment.

When directed, she sits, and stands, allowing the team to adjust their lighting, and set up their equipment. Her hands shake, and it’s nothing but a relief when a PA informs the group that lunch has been delivered. Rebecca takes her time pulling on a robe, sipping her bottle of water, and doing her best to enjoy the chicken stirfry that’s been served.

The break does little to soothe her anxieties; she finds her fists clenched, her stomach twisted in knots. There is simply a level of unease she can’t shake.

Roy returns, and the shoot resumes in full swing. She hits her marks and smiles when she needs to. But, it feels like she’s running on autopilot, only half present.

Roy pulls her aside between outfit changes. “What do you need, Rebecca?” “Nothing?” She’s not sure what he’s asking, “I’m fine”. “You’re fine. It’s fine. Sure. But you and I both know that this shoot should be fucking great,” He says without taking a breath, “You landed this gig because you deserve it. It’s about you, and I need to know what’s holding you back”.

Oh. She hadn’t considered that there might be a solution to her stress. She’d worked herself up, stressed herself out, and assumed that the only way to overcome these feelings was to just push through them. Shove down her emotions, and run herself through the motions.

“It’s a beautiful set. I love the clothing. I love the vision--” “Fucking hell”. “I’m sorry?” Rebecca is shocked by his outburst. “The location is wonderful, and you look fantastic. But this is about how you feel. The shoot isn’t going to work unless you’re happy. So what’s changed between the last shoot you did for Richmond, and now?” Ted. She thinks. “I don’t know”. “Well, then,” Roy sighs, “I think we call it a day-- we’re losing daylight anyway. We come back tomorrow and figure things out. This entire shoot is about you. Fuck everyone else. If it’s the wardrobe, makeup, the photographers, the fucking catering, it can all be changed”.

She only nods in response.

He’s right, and she appreciates him being so blunt. It’s something she’s always admired about him, but she’s never been on the receiving end until now. It stings, but not in a way that wounds her. It’s refreshing to have people who just say what they mean. The noise in her head goes quiet, and she releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” She manages a smile.

“Give the Yankee my best”.

She chooses to ignore his comment. Leave it to Roy Kent to make her feel so transparent. She wonders if he’s the only one who’s noticed her growing attachment to Ted Lasso.

Rebecca hesitates when her driver asks where she’d like to go.

Are you at your studio?

She asks Ted. Home. Come by if you need to.

He answers quickly, and she relays the information to the driver.

Ted’s flat is cozy. It’s easy to feel at home as she curls her legs up under her on the sofa. He’s a good host, too, offering her tea even when she knows for a fact he hates the beverage himself. She holds the mug in both hands, accepting the warmth it provides while Ted continues to putter around the kitchen.

When he joins her in the living room, he’s carrying his own mug (of what she assumes is coffee), and a tiny pink box.

“These are for you,” he grins, leaving his cup on the side table, lifting the lid off the box and holding it open presenting, and proposing its contents.

“Biscuits?”

He nods, eyes eager, nudging the box towards her, “Go ahead”.

The shortbread tastes like home. The buttery feel of treasured memories, a reminder of some of her happiest days. She’s brought back to her grandmother’s house, standing on a step stool to reach the countertops. Tiny hands kneading dough and bouts of laughter when her father failed to steal a biscuit from the most recent batch without his mother’s notice. She hasn’t had shortbread this good in years.

“Fuck me,” the words escape her. Ted raises an eyebrow, bemused, and potentially intrigued. “Where did you get these?” She asks, taking another bite. “I made ‘em”. “You’re hired”. “I appreciate that. I’ll let my Mama know you approve of her recipe”.

Rebecca nods, taking the box into her own hands, “Thank you”.

He gives her a while to enjoy her surprise snack while he sips his coffee before he asks her about the shoot. She despises the tickle of shame at the back of her mind as she tells him about what Roy said. Never in her life has she had a director cancel a shoot because of her.

“So, what is it that you need, Rebecca?” “Will you do the shoot?” “Me?” He seems shocked. “What I need is someone I trust. This isn’t like every other project. This is personal”.

Ted’s silence surprises her. And then he says, “Alright. As a favour to ya, I will”.

She can’t hold back a huge sigh of relief at his response.

“Can I redeem my voucher now?” “Sure can!” he’s immediately standing up, “Lucky you, that’s a coupon for life”. “Oh? Lucky me,” she laughs, though her eyes are watering. She slots herself into his embrace, pulling him close to her. She’ll be damned if this isn’t a proper hug.

Her heartbeat syncs to his after a while. His shirt collar smells like fabric softener and sugar. And she savours the firm press of his fingertips on her shoulder blade. His palm is warm even through the fabric of her sweater. And with her chin resting on his shoulder, she knows she'd be quite content to fall asleep like this, even standing up.

When they pull away, it's only slightly. Her right hand cups his cheek, the other smoothed down the front of his crew neck. Everything about him is intriguing and inviting. It drives her insane just how delectable his mere existence is. She hates the way she craves his touch and attention.

She feels selfish, wanting to hold him close to her forever. She wants to unpack his mind, memorize his expressions, and understand him as easily as he seems to know her.

His lips taste like chocolate and peppermint, more than coffee, when she kisses him. He wavers before his steadiness returns as if questioning his own determination. But, his left hand tangles in the hair at the back of her neck, his right, strong at the small of her back.

Rebecca had never imagined it would be possible to miss someone who was standing right in front of her. She never expected to yearn so deeply she's certain she's not allowed to have.

She pulls away to say, “We shouldn't, Ted--we can't”. She hopes it's an empty promise.

He's understanding, taking a step back without letting her go.

She's not used to that, acceptance, acknowledgement and respect for her emotions. Short enough without shoes on for the first time in their friendship, she presses her forehead to his collarbone, and she lets herself mourn the risks she won't let herself take, the futures and outcomes she continues to deny herself.

When she releases Ted from the hug, she appreciates the silence while she wipes away the mascara that's started to run.

“Sorry, I Must Look like Robert Smith After a nap”.

“Emotional guy,” Ted shrugs.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she steels herself, preparing to make her exit.

“See you tomorrow,” he promises.

Rebecca eats the rest of the biscuits from the tiny pink box, in the can on the way home. It's greedy the way she hopes he makes more for her, having all but substituted her feelings for baked goods. Rupert always said she was a taker.

She leaves the empty box on her kitchen countertop, unable to bring herself to part with Ted again tonight.

Counting sheep doesn't work, but after a few hours of staring at the ceiling, her eyes grow tired. It's a crash, rather than a gentle fall into sleep, but she does it with a smile she can't wipe off, and the lingering feel of Ted's lips on her own.

There's a spring in her step when she returns to set, a renewed sense of energy and easy-going comfort from knowing what to expect with a support system now present. After confirming with Roy that it was alright to bring Ted in, Roy let her know that he's asked Keeley to come too. It's nice to have her friends with her.

Some small part of her begrudgingly admits that she feels somewhat pathetic, needing a whole group of people just to feel like a fully realized person. Rebecca loathes how she sees herself as some fumbling baby deer when she’s left completely to her own devices. And, while she knows it’s more than likely just growing pains, and the readjustment to a life that is hers and hers alone, she can all but see the rage and frustration bubbling up beneath her skin-- directed towards Rupert, and herself for ending up here.

The hair, makeup, and wardrobe haven’t changed from yesterday, nor has the location or the lighting plan, but she’s far more at ease as she moves around the space. Far more chipper, happy to chat. Her shoulders are relaxed as she settles into the black floral print dress again.

She’s playful and flirtatious in all of her poses. Genuine bouts of laughter escape her, and for a while, it seems like Ted isn’t even taking his finger off the shutter button the photos are captured so quickly. Keeley arrives towards the end of the day, quieter on set than she was the last time she arrived during a shoot, but her presence and steady support are deeply appreciated.

“And that’s a wrap,” Roy confirms. “Already?” Rebecca wonders aloud, “I feel like I just bloody got here!” “You and the photog have been making eyes at each other all afternoon--it’s been four hours, Rebecca”.

Oh. She’s hardly noticed the time passing. Too wrapped up enjoying herself, enjoying the moment. The same project she’d worked herself into a panic about has gone by in a flash now that she’s hit her stride. She’s sure there’s some kind of life lesson in there for her, about the value of great friends, and she’s nothing but appreciative of her company, but more so, she’s endlessly proud of the freedom she’s felt being her authentic self, no facade.

She’d be lying if she said she felt like her old self again. She feels better than her old self; stronger, wiser, and reanimated.

“All good over here?” Ted asks, after packing up his equipment. Roy nods. “Boy, time sure does fly when you’re having fun, eh boss?” “Boss?” Rebecca asks. Ted hums in the affirmative, “It’s your big shoot, ain’t it?” “Yes--yes, I suppose it is,” She smiles, “Thank you again, Ted”.

“Anytime, boss. I told ya, I’m happy to help”.

She wonders what Ted is thinking when he looks at her like that. A trace of a smile playing at his lips, his eyes so bright and eager they nearly sparkle. Looking at him, she feels like a teenager, her stomach doing silly little flips. It’s nearly infuriating how easily he gives her butterflies. It’s embarrassing how much she wants to kiss that smirk off his ridiculous, handsome, face. She wants to damn Ted Lasso and that mustach, and that American accent for worming his way into her heart, but she covets every butterfly fluttering in her chest instead.

#ted lasso #ted lasso x rebecca welton #ted lasso fanfic #ted x rebecca #tedbecca #photography au

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geminiiviolets · 1 year

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Finally introducing my first twst oc, the menace of Pomefiore, Circe!

! Not all of this information is correct, revamp of his profile is coming soon! ༉‧₊˚✧ BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Circe Erfinderin

Age: 17

Gender: good question (he/him pronouns)

Sexuality: Bi

Birthday: November 19 (Scorpio)

Species: Human

Homeland: The Shaftlands

Twisted from Yzma (The Emperor’s New Groove)

༉‧₊˚✧ APPEARANCE

Height: 188 cm (6’2’’)

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Dyed purple with dark purple ends (naturally brown)

Distinctive traits: one fang on the left side of his teeth, cat-like pupils, beauty mark near the bottom of his face

Additional notes/characteristics: he always wears some sort of makeup, and you can usually catch him wearing gold eyeliner and black lipstick

༉‧₊˚✧ PERSONALITY & BACKSTORY

Description: he likes to describe himself as a creative visionary, but what he means is that he’s a drama queen. People have described him before as similar to his housewarden, but with a lot few more screws loose. Now, he’s not all bad, like most people, and can be quite caring. And he is pretty creative, coming up with good (albeit overly complex) solutions to a lot of problems. And if anybody ever needs a helping hand with things, he’ll try his best to help them.

Flaws: kind of lazy at times, holds grudges for eternity, spiteful

Fears: big dogs, being forgotten

Talents: makeup art, potion making, giving genuine compliments

Family: Mother, father, and one younger brother.

Backstory: Circe grew up in a small suburban town in the Shaftlands with his parents and younger brother. He had an unassuming childhood, much to the surprise of literally anybody that has met him. In his early teen years, he always felt that his life was too dull and drab, and to be honest, it was. He wanted to be the most interesting person in the room at all times, and this started his search for a new identity, one that would make him feel like himself. He found this in two different places, the first being an old tale about the alchemist of the kingdom of the sun. Apparently, she was a master of poison making, and had undying determination, which eventually allowed her to take the throne over from a horrible emperor. She also was told to have beauty that was unique from many other figures of this time. Reading this tale, Circe was inspired and made his goal of upholding the legacy of this unknown alchemist. The second source of inspiration for him was the famous celebrities of this time. Yes, specifically Vil Schoënheit, big surprise. Circe, although he would never admit this, was astonished at how someone could be so beautiful, elegant, handsome, strong-willed, and hard-working all at the same time. This inspired Circe to work for his goals, even though they seemed a bit unachievable at the time.

༉‧₊˚✧ SCHOOL INFORMATION

Dorm: Pomefiore

Class: 2-B

Grade: Sophomore

Best subject: Magical Potions

Worst subject: History of Magic

Club: Science Club

༉‧₊˚✧ MISCELLANEOUS

Likes: experimenting with appearances and potions, rock and classical music, art, people that have taste when it comes to fashion, cats

Dislikes: sloppy people, insects, dogs, dull things, llamas, the sun

Favorite food: Cookies

Least favorite food: spinach

Hobbies: singing, potion making, messing with his appearance

༉‧₊˚✧ UNIQUE MAGIC

“Snuff out the Imperfections”

This spell allows the user to change their appearance in whatever way they wish for a full twenty four hours. It can only be used once every three days, and even then, is a very time-consuming and draining spell to cast.

༉‧₊˚✧ TRIVIA

• he accidentally turned himself into a cat when testing out a potion, he did eventually go back to being a human, but retained a few cat-like properties such as his one fang and cat-like pupils

• he also turned a fellow student into a llama using a potion of his own design, and avoided getting expelled by coming up with a story about it being a project and the other person accidentally drinking it (it was not an accident)

• he loves to sing and actually wrote a song one time, but would rather go skydiving without a parachute than tell anybody about the song

• he was inspired by Vil to start making his own makeup, and he likes to add potions to it sometimes and this has resulted in numerous strange occurrences including; his face becoming blue for approximately three hours and twenty two minutes, a fine layer of scales growing and then quickly shedding, and also the turning into a cat incident. he has tried his best to iron out any problems in his makeup-potion combos, which has led to him being quite advanced in the art of potion making

• don’t let him in a kitchen or any place that has flammable things. he has set fires (mostly accidents) in the various NRC labs multiple times.

#Twst oc #Twst #twisted oc #twisted wonderland oc #circe erfinderin #WOOOO FINALLY DONE WITH HIS REFERENCE #pomefiore oc #yzma twisted wonderland oc #night raven college #please tell me I didn’t forget anything I’m very tired #my art #my ocs #twst sona

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cherienymphe · 2 years

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Dollhouse II (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, eventual loss of virginity, eventual emotional abuse, eventual substance use, innocent!reader, alluded to little!reader, mentions of age regression, toxic friendships, best friend’s brother!Bucky, hints of unrequited Steve x reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You and Rebecca Barnes are polar opposites, but she’s the closest thing you have to a sister. When your friendship starts to show its cracks, Bucky seizes the opportunity to corner the girl who’s always been just out of reach.

Your legs were tucked underneath your body as you lounged on the couch, book in hand while you waited for Rebecca to finish getting ready. You were hardly keeping track of time, and to be honest, you weren’t in a party mood anyway. However, Brock had invited the other girl out, and seeing as he was the only person she’d know there, she’d talked you into coming along too.

“I want you to enjoy life,” she’d said.

“I am enjoying life,” had been your swift reply.

Rebecca was one of those people who didn’t grasp that people just had different interests. You didn’t think she genuinely believed you found genuine joy in staying in on the weekends. She had convinced herself that you’d have more fun at parties with her instead of considering that was your last idea of ‘fun’. You didn’t fault her for it. After all, you figured it was hard to imagine someone looking at something with so much disdain that brought you joy.

Bucky had been up and down the stairs several times in the last hour, and you recalled that his birthday was approaching. Rebecca told you that he had some big party planned, to which you both were obviously invited. It went unspoken that you would go. This was Rebecca’s brother, after all, and you’d feel like a horrible person for skipping it. Besides, there was no doubt that Steve would be there too.

“If only my sister put as much energy into her classes as she does with her hair…”

Your attention was pulled from the words on the page and to the figure standing before you. Bucky was so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him approach. His dark hair was damp, his shirt clinging to him with the same dampness, and you surmised that he’d just gotten out of the shower. You noticed that his hands were behind his back, but you didn’t think anything of it.

“…then maybe she could’ve gotten a full ride to some school too.”

You cracked a small smile at his teasing words.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look pretty,” you defended, and Bucky smirked.

“You always manage to look pretty, and it doesn’t take hours,” he complimented, taking you by surprise.

In all the years that you’d known Bucky, you never recalled him ever paying you compliments, and yet he’d done so twice now in a matter of weeks. It was strange, and you had a hard time accepting them, but the sincerity in his voice was hard to miss. Bucky meant his words, and that was what shocked you. You weren’t sure what to say, especially since he was insulting his sister as a means to praise you, so you didn’t respond.

“I got you something,” he said, changing the subject.

Your brows drew together, and you marked your page before closing your book and setting it to the side. You sat up more, and you were again reminded of his hands behind his back. If you were surprised before by his compliment, it was nothing in comparison to the shock you felt at the sight of the brown stuffed bear in his hand. He was about the size of your head, and he had a pink ribbon tied into a bow around his neck.

“Sam and I were browsing some stores on our lunch the other day, and I saw this lonely guy. He had your name written all over him…”

Your frown deepened, and you could tell that your reaction wasn’t what Bucky was expecting as you looked up at him. Your lips parted, and you struggled to say something as your eyes traveled back and forth between the bear and him.

“Why did you buy this for me…?”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to frown.

“I thought you could add it to your collection,” he said, and you snorted.

“The collection you’ve always made fun of?”

He seemed to understand your confusion now, and he heaved a sigh. Bucky sat down next to you, sitting the bear in his lap as he stared at it for a few minutes.

“I was a teenage boy who enjoyed being mean. That’s no excuse, but we were all little assholes at that age…and you were a sweet girl. An easy target,” he said with a shrug, finally looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

He held the bear out towards you, and you hesitantly took it, fingers brushing over his as you stared down at it. He would fit right in with the rest, and you ignored the feel of Bucky playing with your hair as you smiled down at the bear.

“Besides, I think it’s sweet…”

“You do?” you wondered, looking at him now.

You always assumed that he found it immature, laughable even. There was a small smile on Bucky’s lips as he gazed at you, and you watched as he tapped his fingers against the bear.

“Getting older doesn’t mean we should turn our backs on things that make us happy and bring us comfort. It’s admirable, really, to love things so unapologetically,” he elaborated.

You couldn’t hold back your smile at that.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “…and for this too. He’ll fit right in.”

The silence between you was comfortable, a rarity, and you only looked up again when you felt Bucky touch your cheek. He looked concerned, and you found yourself scooting closer.

“You have my number too, you know…”

You did. You’d had it for years since you first started coming over, something their parents had insisted on in case of an emergency. You’d never used it though, even when you had wanted to, too put off by Bucky’s attitude towards you.

“I know,” you quietly said with a nod.

“…and I want you to use it if you’re in trouble. There’s no need to waste money on an Uber and put your safety at risk the next time my sister ditches you,” he told you.

He said it in a way that sounded inevitable, and he must have realized it too because he corrected himself.

“If she ditches you.”

His correction hung in the air, but you both knew the truth. Rebecca would ditch you again. Maybe it wouldn’t be tonight, but it was bound to happen again, and the fact that Bucky could see it too made you sad. Just then the woman in question came bounding down the stairs, dark hair in big bombshell curls, lips pulled into a red smile.

“Bucky, quit bothering Y/N. Ready?”

That last question was directed towards you, and you didn’t dare mention that you’d been ready for a long time now. You didn’t mind waiting, and as you clutched your bear to you, you were glad that you had. You were quick to follow Rebecca out of the door, but not before throwing Bucky a quick smile over your shoulder.

You struggled to lower yourself down onto the bench outside without falling over. Despite how late the two of you had been, Brock still hadn’t shown up to the party until 30 minutes later. By that point, the both of you were good and buzzed, only growing drunker. However, that seemed fine for Rebecca as she disappeared with the dark-haired man, but now you were all alone.

You knew that she was still here, courtesy of her location, and it wasn’t hard to guess what she might’ve been doing. Truthfully, you were happy for her, but you’d only wish she’d remember that she was the only person you knew here. You had turned down a total of 3 creepy guys, and you hadn’t missed the way one of them had taken your rejection.

Just when you were about to wonder if you should leave, you heard your name being called. Rebecca was all smiles as she stumbled towards you, but your own smile waned as she approached, placing her car keys in your hand. You stared at her in confusion.

“Go ahead and take my car home. Brock and I are going to head out,” she said.

You frantically blinked, shaking your head.

“T-take your car? Rebecca, I’m drunk,” you reminded her.

She seemed to have forgotten that, a sheepish look on her face before scratching the back of her head.

“Drive slow?”

“Rebecca!”

“I mean, Brock is kind of drunk too-.”

“…and you’re going to get in the car with him?”

Even through your slurred words, your tone was incredulous. Rebecca rolled her big blue eyes, a light laugh escaping.

“Lighten up, mom. I’ll text you when I get to his place…”

“Rebecca-.”

“Take my car, don’t take my car, I don’t care,” she said, waving her hands around. “Just take my keys.”

She pressed a kiss to your cheek, and she was gone just as quickly as she came. You felt disoriented as you watched her go, and as you clutched her keys in your hand, you felt something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Anger.

It was one thing to ditch you at the movies only to be replaced by her brother. It was even one thing to be ditched at her house. You were safe in both situations, especially with Bucky at your side, but this was different. You were drunk and surrounded by complete strangers. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Once you found Rebecca’s car, you made yourself comfortable on the hood. Driving home, or anywhere for that matter, wasn’t an option. You were far too drunk, but even knowing that, you stared at your phone with conflict. You didn’t exactly enjoy spending money on Ubers or Lyfts, and you hated waiting around for someone who may or may not decide they want to be reliable.

With a sigh, you dialed the one number you never had before and never thought you would.

Bucky answered on the first ring, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you heard another familiar voice in the background. The thought of Steve viewing you as some immature girl who was too drunk to even safely get herself home made you want to cry. If there was any hope before that he’d see you as anything more than Rebecca’s friend, it was gone now.

While you waited for Bucky, you took the time to open Rebecca’s car and grab your teddy bear. You played with it for a while, just fingering its arm and staring at it, and you hadn’t even realized that the few tears you were holding in had escaped. Rebecca was a good person. She was a good friend, she just had her moments. Said moments becoming more and more common lately didn’t change that…right?

You didn’t know how long you sat in the passenger’s seat, legs hanging out of the car as you stared at that bear. The noise of the party became background noise, and the longer you sat there, alone and immersed in an unfamiliar situation, the more you could feel yourself regressing. You just wanted to be at home, in bed, and surrounded by your numerous stuffed animals.

You were all too relieved when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Hey, doll.”

Your eyes were wide when your head snapped up to rest them on Bucky. You could’ve cried, and you felt like it was obvious as Bucky tilted his head at you, a sad smile on his pink lips.

“Bucky,” you sighed in relief, only to swallow the rest of your words at the figure behind him. “…and Steve.”

“Steve wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bucky answered your unvoiced question.

“I hope you don’t mind,” the blond said. “I was really worried when Bucky told me what happened.”

That knowledge warmed your heart, but that feeling conflicted with the embarrassment you felt at Steve seeing you in such a state. You avoided his eye as Bucky helped you to your feet, and you said nothing when he took Rebecca’s keys, locking her car.

“I should leave her keys here,” you heard him mumble. “That would serve her right.”

“Don’t be mean,” you whispered.

You felt both his and Steve’s eyes on you, and Bucky sighed, placing his hand on the small of your back as he led you to his car.

“You’re nicer than she deserves.”

You settled into the backseat, saying nothing when Bucky strapped you in, eyes too preoccupied with your bear. You could feel his eyes on you as he hovered in the doorway before he finally spoke again.

“You okay?”

“I just want to go home,” you quietly told him.

“Doll…you’re drunk,” was his response, as if you had forgotten.

“Bucky’s right, Y/N. You should probably stay at his place tonight.”

The reminder of Steve’s presence only made you feel worse, and your tearful eyes met Bucky’s. You swallowed, tightening your fingers around the bear.

“I just want to go home,” you repeated, voice barely above a whisper as you held his gaze.

When he didn’t say anything, you lowered them once again, closing them when you heard the door close. The entire drive back to Bucky’s house, you stared out of the window. By the time you reached it, the intoxication was accompanied by the fatigue. You guessed that Bucky decided to do as you asked when Steve hopped out of the car, a farewell to you on his lips as he waved. You weakly returned it before your gaze briefly met Bucky’s through the rearview mirror.

The silence didn’t bother you, and when Bucky finally pulled into your own yard, you were quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. He met you at the door, and you stumbled when you stepped out.

“Careful,” he gently said, and you looked at him strangely.

“What are you doing…?”

He gave you a look that made you feel like a reprimanded child before pulling you closer.

“You can barely walk, and you expect me to just let you struggle into your house?”

When he put it like that, you did feel silly for considering otherwise, and you gave him a reluctant nod as he closed the door and locked the car. Bucky was ever so helpful in assisting you into your house, telling you that he was just a holler away when you expressed a desire for a bath. The warm water did nothing to calm your nerves, but you at least felt cleaner and cooler.

Bucky was sitting on your bed when you got out, his blue eyes gazing around your room, your bear in his lap. He looked so strange sitting amongst the white frills of your bed and the colorful mess that was your stuffed animals. He sent you a comforting smile, and you struggled to return it as you sat beside him.

“I figured I’d let you decide where he should go,” he said, waving the toy at you.

You took it from him with a sigh, and when it became clear that you weren’t going to give into his attempts to cheer you up, he moved closer.

“What’s wrong?”

It was a loaded question, but instead of focusing on the more complicated of your problems, you spoke about the simpler one instead.

“Why did you let Steve come with you?” you asked him, looking at him with a frown. “I’m sure he thinks that I’m a pathetic, helpless mess now.”

“Now, why would you say something like that?”

Unable to come up with an answer, you merely shrugged. Bucky spoke again as you looked away.

“Why are you so worried about what Steve thinks of you anyway?”

You didn’t respond, swallowing down your tears, and when the silence stretched on, Bucky sighed.

“Oh, doll,” he breathed, plucking your bear from your hands. “Steve’s not the kind of guy you should be chasing after.”

Bucky’s unsolicited advice was the least of your focus as you rested your gaze on him. You were instead interested in what he meant by that, and so you asked him.

“Steve’s…nice. He’s a nice guy in every way, and he wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you.”

Your frown deepened, and you almost felt like you should’ve been offended.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bucky simply smirked at your tone, a mirthful sight.

“A guy like him can only thrive with someone who can take charge. Some powerful girl who’ll boss him around. He doesn’t know how to take care of a girl like you,” Bucky elaborated, tapping the nose of the bear against yours. “He’d try, but…”

Bucky trailed off with a shrug, and your eyes fell to the floor at that.

“I could be… I could be a girl like that,” you argued, and it sounded silly even to your own ears.

“Why?” Bucky asked after some time. “Why should you have to change for some guy? You don’t think you’re perfect just the way you are?”

Your eyes met his again, and the truth was that no. You didn’t think that, but instead of saying it, you simply took your bear back before crawling into bed. Bucky helped you get settled, and your mouth moved faster than your brain.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

Bucky stopped at that, and your gaze was pleading as he took a deep breath.

“Rebecca is usually with me when I’m like this, and… I just really don’t want to be alone.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate any longer before taking off his shoes. The bear was placed between the two of you as you faced him on your side. His arm rested behind his head, and you played with the stuffed animal.

“Thank you for getting me tonight…and staying,” you whispered into the quiet room.

“Thank you for calling,” he replied.

Your next words were forgotten as you yawned, and the alcohol pushed you further into exhaustion as Bucky’s fingers danced over your face.

Your thighs felt sore when you woke up the next morning, and you tried to remember how you had slept. As you sat up, you noticed that the other side of your bed was empty, but Bucky’s car was still outside when you glanced out of the window. It took you a moment to recognize the smell of food wafting from the kitchen, and thankful for your lack of a hangover, you made your way out of your room.

Bucky at your stove was a sight to behold, and you felt a little sheepish as you approached him. You couldn’t believe that you had asked him to stay with you, and you could believe it even less that he had agreed. You were sure that he’d had so many other more important things to do.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

Your own response was soft, wide eyes taking in the breakfast he’d prepared.

“You didn’t have to do this. It’s already bad enough that I’d made you stay the night,” you told him.

Bucky’s eyes met yours before he neared you, his blue gaze briefly falling to your nightgown as he pulled it down from where it was stuck to the top of your thigh. His hand lingered, fingers playing with the fabric.

“I told you before. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

“You say that, but I just feel so bad. I feel like between your sister and I, we’re taking up so much of your time lately,” you argued.

The mention of Rebecca had you looking for your phone, and you spotted it on the counter. You noticed the several missed calls and texts from her, and you pulled your lip between your teeth. You got the feeling that she was peeved about her abandoned car, and just when you were about to call her, Bucky’s large hand covered your phone. You looked to him with a frown.

“Let her stress and stew in her own mess for a bit…”

“Well, that’s mean.”

Bucky raised a brow at you, his hand slipping into yours now.

“…and her leaving you stranded and drunk wasn’t?”

You sighed, glancing away.

“Well…yes, but… She’s my friend, Bucky, and I don’t exactly take pleasure in hurting her,” you responded.

“Maybe you should. She definitely deserves it,” he said, pulling you along. “Forget my sister for a while and have something to eat.”

You allowed him to pull you towards the counter, taking a seat at his urging.

“Bucky…”

The rest of your words were lost when he shoved a piece of French toast in your mouth. You chewed it with a chuckle, humming at the taste just as he reached out to brush his thumb over your lips. You watched him bring it to his own mouth, eyes fixed on yours, a crooked smile curving along his lips at the taste of the powdered sugar.

“It’s almost as sweet as you are,” he hummed.

You scrunched your nose up at that, shaking your head as you returned to your food. Bucky was content to play with your hair and watch you eat, and you were content to do as he said and forget about Rebecca for a while.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @mcudarklibrary @notyourtypicalrose @sebabestianstan101 @opheliadawnwalker3 @pinkzsugar @villanellevi @cheeseburgersstuff @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines @nightsinneverland @alexakeyloveloki @grayxswan @undecidedsworld @fanfic-fangirl @peach-buns-unicorns @vicmc624 @weird-mumbling @outlawedmando @izzfizzh @everything-is-awesomesauce @donutloverxo @wondergal2001 @rosalynshields @mandiiblanche @stinkywhore @lunaticgurly @shippers-heart @local-witch-of-mn @youlovetkay @eralen @chimaeracabra @dontbescaredtosingalong @lokislastlove @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore @kvzctam @mansaaay @thanatosfic @emberenchanted @sgt-seabass @harryspet @cjand10 @loveanndthunderr @samwilsonshandsandass

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Dark fics #marvel fanfiction

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chill-pills-yandere-haven · 3 years

Text

Dreams of Coffee and K-pop pt.2

Pt.1

An: I found the emoji!

Tw: yandere, implied murderous intent

Disclaimer: Yanderes are abusive, this is not love.

Art cred: Kackaorz1 on Twitter

It was the day of the concert. You had been listening to the 4NEMO music that your friend had been recommending you and had gotten quite familiar with it. Now, you were dressed in your favourite outfit, ready to attend the concert with your best friend. It was two hours before the concert started, but Venti advised you to come early so you and your friend could hang out with them and watch them warm-up. 4NEMO had gotten closer to you in the time before the concert. The boys texted you constantly and you got attached, welcoming them into your tight little circle of trust. You even all had a group chat with just you and the boys. They proved to be a pleasant way for you to blow off steam from your classes and relax so you welcomed them. Just a week after you all had met, 4NEMO had a new hit album called "Coffee Dream". It had become your new favourite album from them, containing all of the things you loved in music. Almost as though it was made with you in mind. You even set your ringtone to the instrumental of one of the album's songs. A beep resounded from your phone as you looked yourself over in the mirror. A text from Venti, " Hey cutie, just wondering if you need a ride to the concert, I'd be happy to give you a ride!" The nickname 'Cutie' had been something that sort of just happened, no inside joke, just Venti teasing you. You smile and chuckle a bit then answer him. "Yeah sure, I'm already ready so you can come now and I'm sure that they're ready too so you can pick us up now." Five minutes later you received another text telling you that Venti was now at your apartment. Making sure to fix your hair, you went outside. Outside was a black limousine waiting for you. "Get in, cutie! The others are starting warmups!" Venti called to you as you got in the limo, admiring the interior of the vehicle. Vent pulled you to his side, thighs touching. You were confused at his actions but then Venti slung his arm around your shoulder and explained. "Well we've got to make sense for your friend, right? Ehe." He giggled at the end. In return, you shrugged but it did make sense so you didn't mind. Plus, this was Venti, he's always like this. Once you got to your friend's house you saw them with a 4NEMO glow stick in hand and wearing a 4NEMO tee with the group's logo on it. "Hey, bestie! And Venti!" You laughed at the stupid nickname and replied. "Ok, you know you are my best friend and I love you platonically, and that I would die for you if necessary, but do not call me bestie. You can call me anything else, hell I'd even prefer if you called me your 'stupid butt-kicking partner in arson,' than whatever that was. Now, let's pretend that never happened and erase that from our memories. 'Kay?" This was just harmless teasing as you two had done much more stupid things and had many more inside jokes that no one except for you two knew about. "Aye aye, captain!" You talked about random subjects as the car ride went on. And Venti held onto you the whole way, almost as if he thought you might disappear. Maybe even a bit more than usual. Once you got to where the concert would take place, Venti escorted you both to the private room where the boys were practicing. "Hey, guys, I brought a little something!" Venti called to the other 4NEMO members, a hand on your shoulder tugging you to him. All the group looked up from what they were doing. From Kazuha trying out different chords on the electronic piano to xiao going over some dance moves that you hadn't seen yet, to Aether doing vocal exercises. Aether and Kazuha meeting you with soft smiles. Xiao looking away from you after he met your eyes. "So that's what you went off to do, and I almost thought you were trying to skip out on practice." Xiao retorted. "Well it is nice to have you here with us, and you too." Aether addressed you and your friend. It was surprisingly relaxing watching them warm-up for the concert. The practice was flawless, clear that everyone had already gotten everything down to the most minuscule detail. "4NEMO, you ready? Shows about to

begin." One of their workers called, you fairly remember her name being Rika or something along those lines. The boys nodded already dressed in their beautiful yet casual costumes. "Wooh! Go 4NEMO!" You called to them as you and your friend headed for where the audience had already situated itself. (On the other side) That past week, they had been almost three times more productive with you as their inspiration. Starting and releasing a new album dedicated to you in just a week. With you on their brains, inspiration was abundant. They were more devoted to you than even some of their superfans, Kazuha even stalking your social media in secret so he could make sure that his next compositions were to your taste. 4NEMO had been trying to express their love for you in the clearest yet unsuspicious way they could. Even referencing the day you met with the album. Nevertheless, you seemed to be only interested in friendship. No matter, everything would go their way in the end. Venti had put in so much effort to have you by his side, even if it was for just before the concert. Having to sneak away from the group without being noticed to go get you, paying the limo driver extra as he was only supposed to have driven 4NEMO there. Even holding back what we wanted to say to make you ditch that lousy friend of yours. Just for you to voice your feelings of devotion for them while he was in the same car!? So oblivious, so innocent, he had to protect you. The other boys were also surprised to see you but welcomed your presence. They all thought you would only show up at the concert, not before. But they all loved to indulge in you, so no one really minded Venti's little stunt. 4NEMO appeared on the stage. Smiling at the crowd with meaningless movie star smiles. At everyone except for you of course. All their eyes scoured the crowd for you, happy to see that you were close to the stage. Close enough, to tempt them into pulling you up to be with them. But, they had an image to uphold. So they held off on the longing looks at you and just focused on impressing you. "Hey, guys! Who's ready for a 4NEMO concert!?" Aether grinned and asked the crowd? The audience wooed back, even you, something the boys genuinely smiled at. "Well then, we've ought to get this party started!" Venti cried as the first song started. The boys knew that this had been your first concert as you preferred more quiet, secluded ways to spend your time while your friend was the one dragging you to interact with the outside world. And they were determined to make it special. Make this day the one that makes you as head over heels in love with them as they are. They started with a fast fan favourite, the one that you had as your ringtone. The one they created as a way to only express a fraction of the passion they felt for you. Xiao moved beautifully and elegantly as he sang. Venti hit a flawless high note that even most female singers couldn't reach. Kazuha harmonized with them in such a beautiful way that it could take one's breath away, rapping clearly and rapidly. Aether was the one who pulled it all together, he was the leader after all. 4NEMO was pleased to find that you were enjoying the change of environment. Moving your head and singing along with some of the songs you knew. Just one small problem. Though it was an irritation, the boys kept up in the perfect way only they could achieve. The problem was that you just had to bring your friend with you, Venti told the others what he had heard in the car, about how you would even die for them. And they just had to separate you two, it was too much jealousy to handle. It drove them even further, made them crave your praise even more. Even just a small compliment would suffice. So they worked their hardest at this concert. Making sure you have the time of your life. The concert was finally over and now you could be reunited with the boys. They swarmed around you once you had arrived at their private room. Asking you how the experience was and was delighted that you said that it was "absolutely

surreal" and that you loved it. It might not have been a direct 'I love you.' But it would work for now. Though they couldn't be with you in public due to their status, they would still have you. They would still make you theirs. They would remove anyone to make that happen. And it seemed like your friend was going to be the first.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere blog #yandere male #Chill pill's yandere haven #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kazuha #yandere aether #yandere venti #yandere xiao #genshin au

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly

This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!

Intro:

We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.

Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.

Lucifer

Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.

A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun.

There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…

But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.

His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up…

But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.

There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration…

And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…

It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.

They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…

So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.

"Am I really that amusing…?"

Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.

"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."

Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.

"Going so soon…?"

Apparently he appreciated the compliment.

Mammon

He didn't have to do it.

When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.

It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.

But he did.

When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.

He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...

But he said something anyway.

And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...

When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed…

Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.

A genuine, serene smile…

Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.

Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...

"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"

When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??

"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"

He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??

"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"

Leviathan

To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.

He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.

Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.

He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth.

Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes…

Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it.

You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...

Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…

This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.

"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"

"Like what~?"

He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.

"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"

But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…

Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...

Satan

Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.

His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…

Nearly.

The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…

Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…

But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.

Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…

Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.

Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.

Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…

Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…

He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...

He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…

He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…

Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.

Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.

"Like something that you see, Kitten?"

"You could say that…"

He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.

Asmodeus

Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.

And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.

So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.

It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.

Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.

He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.

It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.

When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.

None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...

Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to apologize to the MC when he saw their face…

The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.

"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"

He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.

"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."

… Oh.

It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.

Oh MC… His sweet MC!!

Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.

Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?

Beelzebub

Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…

But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.

He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…

Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…

A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?

The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.

A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else.

This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.

And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...

Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…

When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…

He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?

"MC? Are you okay...?"

They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.

"You're so sweet, Beel…"

Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.

"Thank you, MC…"

Belphegor

To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.

But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…

The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.

Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…

But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.

The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?

Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.

Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…

Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.

… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?

"You really love your brother, don't you?"

Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.

"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."

Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?

Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me scenarios

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lokiskitten · 3 years

Note

Darling I loved adventurous trip soooo much - I thought that you maybe could do a second part where the deflowers the Reader? Or maybe he gives her first head? I am not sure you can choose 🥰 If not that’s also perfectly fine thank you

Tom Hiddleston | adventurous trippt2

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : ( refer to part 1 ) after the eventful afternoon you guys spent together, you decide to offer Tom your virginity. He therefore takes the initiative to drive until a motel where you two decide to spend the night.

warnings : smut, age gap, kissing, deflowering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, intra!ejaculation.

Wind brushed through your hair as Tom drove onto one of the many isolated roads of Britain, his hand gently resting onto your thigh whilst the other one kept a firm grip of the steering wheel. A small smile had progressively formed on his lips, his sunglasses gracefully resting on top of his nose as he hummed along the song which played on the radio. Your childish self playfully stared out of the window, watching the landscapes that passed by and disappeared at a rather fast pace whilst enjoying the warmth Tom’s palm offered your upper thigh.

“I don’t want to go home.” You suddenly affirmed, catching the grown man’s attention as he took half a second to shoot you a simple look. He then looked back at the road, thumb rubbing against your clothed flesh. “We don’t have to. We can stop somewhere else for the night.” He answered reassuringly, earning joy from your tormented soul. Now, this was one of the reasons to why you loved him : he was always willing to participate in your unexpected change of plans. “That’d be lovely.” You responded, your hand now landing on top of his in order to accentuate the physical contact you desperately craved for.

This upcoming event managed to strike some confidence within your heart. If you had behaved shyly at first, the accumulation of physical contact and interactions easily led you to crave for more. You wanted Tom to be the first. “I want you to be the first.” You announced, earning an eyebrow raise from the older man who also stood as your best friend. He seemed surprised to hear such a thing, yet his rational heart also felt flattered that you were willing to offer him all of your trust by giving yourself to him. “Well..” He spoke lowly, clearing his throat in order to offer himself some extra time to think about all of this.

“Is it really what you want?” He ended up asking on a rather serious tone, which allowed you to guess that he was nowhere near being joking. Now, this made you shift in your seat as a layer of anxiety now took over your formerly confident mindset. Tom had managed to make you doubt due to his cold words. “Umh.. yes?” You responded hesitantly, fearing that this would also reduce the chances you had for the older man to believe you. “Mmh.” Groaned Tom as his vehicle penetrated into a random Motel’s parking lot. He stopped his car into one of the emplacements before turning off the engine, his body then turning towards yours as he was now able to focus his entire attention on your saddened self.

Instead of speaking up, the man unexpectedly began to caress your hair before bringing a few loose strands behind your ear. His thumb and index finger took a gentle hold of your chin in order to move your face towards his, ocean blue eyes making contact with your rather turned off self. “Hey..” he began calmly, wanting to slowly dip you into the subject. “You don’t owe me anything. You know that, right?” Tom questioned, earning an understanding nod from you. Never once had you thought that you owed your friend something, but it was probably better for him to see and understand it with his own eyes. “Right.” Tom finished before turning back around and reaching for the door handle.

He opened the door of the vehicle before stepping out of the car, anxiously looking around and seeking for random people passing by which he thankfully didn’t spot. Tom had always enjoyed peace, but also remained aware that motels didn’t necessarily have a good reputation. The last thing he wished was to put you in danger. You got out of the car as well, slamming the door shut after yourself before beginning to follow the grown man until the motel’s reception desk. It didn’t take long for the two of you to book a room for the night, which Tom generously agreed to pay by himself, before being handed the key to your temporary apartment.

The room was petty, and so was the decoration and global hygiene. Yet the fact that you would get to spend an entire night with your friend managed to make you forget about all of those irrelevant details. Tom dropped his jacket onto one of the chairs after he had taken care of closing the door behind your agitated silhouette. His body turned towards yours, mind remembering about what you’ve previously told him in the car. His hands traveled up to your cheeks which he rubbed with his thumbs, the man taking steps forward in order to make you automatically back away towards the bed. Tom looked right into your soul, yet without ever appearing intrusive nor inappropriate. In contrary, it all felt amazingly right.

His lips ended up pressing against yours again, offering you another taste of his flesh for the first time since you had put an end to your first intercourse back in the car. You allowed yourself to shyly kiss back as the back of your legs collided with the dirty mattress, a sensation which managed to pull you back into reality. Pulling away, Tom watched in awe as you took the initiative to lie down on the bed yourself, your head soon colliding with the stiff pillows whilst your friend took care of patiently removing your shoes. He allowed himself to pull off your sock, his lips offering your ankle a delicate kiss whilst his ocean blue eyes continued to stare at your face.

A smile then appeared on his lips as the grown man began to lower his silhouette in order to get on top of you, your hands reaching out for his shoulders which you held in a needy manner. If you hadn’t hold yourself back, whimpers could’ve easily been escaping your lips by now. You were desperate to receive more of him. Again, his mouth came in contact with your open lips- tongue slipping inside of your mouth in order to get a taste of your saliva. You enjoyed this brand new, warm and moist physical contact. Tom’s hips soon began to grind against yours, his cock hardening within his pants at the thought of getting to intimately discover your body in a couple of minutes.

Though you were usually considered as an overthinker, this new position managed to make you forget about anything which didn’t regard the upcoming matter. You could feel genuine love and passion burning through every single of Tom’s kisses, his large hands roaming your waist as his hips continued to happily collide with yours. The scent which erupted from his neck and overall silhouette was quite intoxicating- the man having done a great job when it came to choosing the right cologne. An eager moan came out of your mouth, catching Tom off guard and leading him to chuckle playfully.

His body hovered above yours, arms now holding him up so that his blue eyes would be able to make proper eye contact with you. “What was that?” He questioned ironically, obviously looking forward to ease the ambiance by teasing you. You hid your face behind your palms, smile appearing on your lips as Tom used one of his hands to move your arms away from your pretty face. The eye contact the two of you now engaged managed to make your heart melt, nothing but pure honesty reflecting in Tom’s ocean blue orbs. Anyone with a good instinct was easily able to feel if a specific person possessed negative intentions, and you could genuinely tell that your friend neared none of those bad thoughts.

“You’re beautiful.” He affirmed calmly, earning a head tilt from your shy self. You never truly knew how to properly react face to receiving an unexpected compliment. After taking a few seconds waiting for an answer, Tom decided to break the silence by beginning to go down on you, his large hand trailing down your thigh until he was kneeling in between your legs. His hands began to unbutton your jeans, which were then removed in order to allow the older man to praise your bare flesh. He lifted your leg up to his face, lips spraying rough kisses and gentle bites onto your inner thigh- moves which sent chills down your spine. You tilted your head back as your hands took a firm hold of the bedsheets.

Face to your positive reaction, a smirk appeared on Tom’s lips as his eyes were directed towards your face, lips still pressed against your skin as he progressively made his way towards your crotch. If you once felt intimidated by the thought of such an interaction, you couldn’t help but now want things to accelerate and accentuate. A few extra shy moans came out of your mouth upon sensing Tom’s nose near your clothed cunt, your genitals throbbing and soaking up underneath the comfortable cotton panties. One of your hands reached down for his shoulder, leading the man to look up at your exhilarated self. You were pulling onto his shirt- either suggesting for him to take it off or make his way back up to your upper body.

Being torn apart by doubt, Tom sat back up on his knees before beginning to unbutton his fancy shirt he once took off for you in the back of his vehicle. His defined abdominals were revealed to you yet again, your eyes still as pleased by this satisfying view. Smiling down at you, the man tossed the article of clothing away before leaning back down, lips colliding with yours in order to form a passionate kiss. You were now easily able to feel his hardened cock and that even through his pants, a sensation you couldn’t potentially get enough off and which sent your own genitals crazy. You were now desperately gripping onto his hair, wishing to install a little bit of extra heat within this already eager intercourse.

Tom obviously understood your signals as one of his hands traveled down until his pants which he began to undo, the other forearm keeping his body up above yours and making sure not to accidentally crush your smaller self. You looked down at his hurried action, your hands resting against your own chest as your eyes admired his perfectly veiny hands. In order to remain active as well, you ended up sitting up to remove your shirt, leaving yourself in nothing but your bra and comfortable panties. This was an initiative which visibly pleased the older man who barely just got done with unbuttoning and sliding off his trousers. As soon as he managed to get rid of his pants, the British gentleman was back at it again, more eager than ever.

His lips now praised your neck, the scent of your pheromones driving his own senses absolutely crazy. One of his hands dared to begin to massage your breast, offering it exactly the perfect amount of attention it needed and craved for. Your breath was shivery, and so was his. Tom was soon to begin a well deserved dry humping session, his hips eagerly colliding against yours as if he wanted you to get used to the upcoming interaction before it had even started. You moaned as you felt his warmth against your crotch, clit and lips throbbing out of need and envy face to such inviting manners.

“More..” you begged silently, eyes opening only to end up making contact with his. Tom smiled down at you, appreciating the way you seemed to be feeling more confident about the overall situation. “My fierce little girl..” he praised happily, his lips then pressing a kiss to your forehead. One of Tom’s hands slid down until his underwear which he pulled down, revealing his stiff member which you didn’t even bare to look at for now. Then, the grown man took a few steps back in order to remove your own panties, which were then tossed to the side like most of the pieces of clothing you once wore. Falling back down between your legs, an unexpected shiver ran down your spine as his warm tip collided with your clit.

Again, it was a brand new feeling you would surely get accustomed to, and which you would probably soon be begging for more of. But for now, anxiety had managed to take over your organism again. “It might hurt a little at first. The best you can do is relax, breath.” Tom explained reassuringly, not wishing for this upcoming sensation to take you off guard and potentially scare you for good. One of the male’s hands took ahold of your thigh, lifting it up against his hip and keeping it there whilst he began to line up with your sensitive entrance. Meanwhile, you calmly rested where you’ve been lying for a couple of minutes now whilst waiting for Tom to finally penetrate your cunt.

His tip ended up pushing inside of you at a slow pace, allowing your entrance to take the time it needed in order to stretch and accustom to his rather prominent size. A guttural groan escaped Tom’s lips upon finally feeling his cockhead being wrapped in your wetness, this sensation sending shivers down his spine and tickles within his own genitals. On another hand, you couldn’t help but wince silently in order not to offend your friend, your hands taking ahold of his shoulders for both physical and mental support. Thomas waited a couple of seconds before beginning to push himself further in, his girth breaking through your hymen which thankfully didn’t hurt one bit. It only felt as if something was stretching you out, but pain lacked.

Once he had finally reached balls deep, the calm adult looked down at you in order to spot potential facial expressions which could’ve betrayed the fact that you felt uncomfortable. He would obviously wait until these had eased up before he could begin to thrust in and out of you. The warm sensation of his balls pressed against your ass managed to pull you out of your negative thoughts, as it was a small add up indeed but which still managed to bring joy to your lustful heart. Your cunt couldn’t help but unintentionally contract around his member, leading Tom to wince every time your walls squeezed and got tighter against your will. It was a pleasuring feeling, but which also made the man crave for more.

After waiting for a couple of long seconds, Tom took the initiative to move out of your tight self, earning fainted hisses from you which progressively faded away the more his hips thrusted against and away from your crotch. Thankfully for the two of you, the minor previous foreplay had managed to soak you up perfectly- which obviously made it less painful for you than it could’ve been. You were now fully able to enjoy the beginning intercourse, your arms wrapping around Tom’s neck and pulling him closer to your desperate silhouette. Your eyelids closed, your brain seeking for extra concentration through this sexual interaction. Never once you had thought it could feel that good, and even less with a man who was twice your age. To be frankly honest, you hadn’t truly questioned the matter until today.

Tom moaned against your ear, his gutteral groans sending chills down your spine and shockwaves of pleasure through your crotch. Your entrance continued to occasionally contract around his thick girth, making the overall interaction even more enjoyable for the older man who was seeking intense sensations. You absolutely loved feeling his warmth against yours, the way his smooth skin would rub against your flesh in such a nice manner. You absolutely didn’t regret trusting him through this scary process, and you were now rewarded for your boldness and courage. The bedhead rocked against the wall as Tom thrusted in and out of you, hips rolling against yours in divine manner. None of you could potentially care nor even think about the neighbors’ tranquility at the moment, as you were too intoxicated by the ongoing intercourse to pay attention to your surroundings.

Thomas unexpectedly bit down onto your neck, teeth taking a gentle hold of your flesh as if the man wished to make you his, to mate, tame and claim you as his. As primal as it could appear, you enjoyed it. Besides, your heart now irrevocably belonged to him, which left no room for another man, or woman, to steal your devoted attention. His thrusts were now getting sloppier, exhausted pants exiting Tom’s lips as his hands moved underneath your back before taking ahold of your shoulders- probably in order to keep you in place when he would finally come. Again, you managed to bump into this rather primal side of his through small details such as this one. However, before you could think any further, you suddenly and unexpectedly felt a warm substance fill up your hole, staining your walls with heat and lust. Had he just..?

Seemingly satisfied moans escaped Tom’s lips as his hips remained tightly pressed against yours, balls twitching as they sent warm sperme shooting through his sensitive urethra which remained locked with your cervix. If there was a chance for you not to get pregnant, your friend had just wiped it off the list. The grown man moved up, face looking down at your crotch as he pulled out of you. “Ohhh... fuck.” He moaned, cum soon beginning to flow out of your twitching entrance. Now, this was an extremely delicious sight to the man who had a breeding kink- and who enjoyed admiring his good work. His thumb traveled up to your clit which he began to rub and tease; once again sending shockwaves of pleasure through your crotch. Your entrance contracted unwillingly, leading more semen to squirt out of your exhausted and sweaty self.

And I am back 😏 I hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love for all of you!! Thank you so much for the support and for 700 followers!!

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston audio #tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston au

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Maybe It’s A Sign

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 9.3k+

Warnings: alcohol, implied age difference, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

Summary: You and Mando have been driving across America together for months. You're happy to be with him but part of you longs for something more.

A/N: I don’t really know the time period for this, probably like anything pre-2010s. There’s no use of y/n and let me know if I missed a warning :)

Read it on AO3

The breeze from the open truck window is cool against your heated skin. It's your only relief as the sun beats down on you through the windshield, the busted A/C offering no help. You're headed down some freeway in the middle of nowhere America, riding shotgun in an old beat-up truck that's seen better days.

You've been keeping your eyes on the flat landscape surrounding you, watching as field after field passes you by. They really weren't joking when they'd named them the Great Plains. Music filters through the air, some classic rock song you've heard a thousand times before. You still hum along mindlessly, enjoying the small amount of entertainment.

Bored of the vast sameness outside your window, your eyes drift over to your companion, driver, and owner of the truck. Mando. You study him, finding him far more interesting than the fields outside.

His worn baseball cap has been pushed up, presumably from scratching his scalp underneath and not bothering to fix it. Soft brown curls peek out around the edges of the hat. He has his sunglasses on and his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead, as they should be. The patchy scruff along his jawline has grown out a bit from your recent days on the road and you can see a few gray hairs mixed in with his darker natural color.

He shrugged off his jacket earlier in the day, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt that hugged his lean muscles all just right. His faded blue jeans are on and you wonder how he can stand to wear them in the oppressive summer heat. You gave into shorts days ago.

All in all, he was a far better sight than anything outside the truck. As you look him over, you muse how everything he owns seems to be worn in. His rusty truck, his old hat, his distressed clothes. They all carry a sense of being lived in, nothing new and shiny on him. Well, except for his jewelry. His silver necklace and rings always shine brightly, a dramatic contrast to the rest of him.

"Stop staring," Mando suddenly says, breaking you from your observation of him. You're a little embarrassed to have been caught, but you aren't going to let him know that.

"Why? Nothin' else to look at around here."

That rewards you with a chuckle. At least he isn't irritated by your staring then.

"Don't you have a book or something?"

You look over at the book you had thrown on the dashboard. A used copy of Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger that you picked up a couple states back. You aren't sure you like Holden, but it's a good read at least. "Yeah, but I can't read it for long before I start feeling sick. So I guess I'll just have to look at you instead."

"Sure that I won't make you sick?" Mando teases.

You smile. He's in a good mood today. There are days where conversation with him is like pulling teeth, but it makes days like today all the more worth it.

"Nah, you aren't so hard on the eyes." You say it cool and casual, genuine but not needy. As though you don't often think of his looks when you have the time and privacy to satisfy your needs.

Mando shakes his head slightly but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Sure, sweetheart."

He never seems to believe you when you compliment his appearance. It breaks your heart a little. Sure, he has some years on you, but you aren't blind. You know a good-looking man when you see one and Mando? He was it. If the man wasn't oblivious, he'd notice the looks plenty of women and some men throw him when he strolls into town.

Not sure of what to say next, but not wanting the conversation to end, you take to a habit that's been slowly forming over your months with him. It had begun out of boredom one day, but continued due to a desperate urge to learn anything and everything your mysterious companion will tell you about himself.

"When's your birthday?"

Mando isn't surprised anymore by your random questions. "May eighteenth."

Your eyes go wide at his answer. It was July now, meaning he'd let the day come and go without telling you. You had just assumed his birthday hadn't come around with you yet. "Mando! Why didn't you tell me? I would have at least said something if I had known."

He shrugs. "Birthdays aren't a big deal where I grew up."

"Were you raised Jehovah's Witness or something?" you ask.

"No, nothing like that." His fingers drum slightly on the steering wheel. You noticed a while ago that he did that when you got close to something he didn't want to talk about. His childhood always seems to be a touchy subject.

You want to know more, want to learn all of his secrets, but you don't want to jeopardize his good mood. Mando had shared bits and pieces of those more intimate details with you over your shared months with him, but always on his own time. His own terms. You won't push it now. Instead, you pivot to something more innocuous.

"If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

You're surprised when he barely takes any time to consider the question before answering. "Tacos."

You raise an eyebrow. "Tacos? I took you for more of a burger and fries kind of guy."

"Nothing compares to a good authentic taco from down by the border." He says it with such confidence that you can do nothing other than believe him.

"I wouldn't know," you say.

Mando cocks an eyebrow at you now. "We'll have to fix that then."

A warm flush runs through your body at his words. You know he isn't looking to get rid of you, but hearing him make plans for the future with you, no matter how tentative, makes you happier than you care to admit. Small promises that you know he'll make good on eventually given the time and opportunity.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Easy. A full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast. Doesn't matter how they're cooked or the specific options, you can't go wrong."

You stretch yourself out in the cab as you answer, throwing your feet up on the dash. Your eyes close for a moment and you miss the way Mando's eyes rake over your extended frame.

"You're never awake for breakfast," Mando comments. He's right. You enjoy your sleep and when left to your own devices you easily dream through breakfast hours.

"That doesn't matter," you retort. "Breakfast food isn't only good in the morning."

You continue that way for a while, gathering small bits of information about him and sharing your own in return. You learn that he prefers hot weather over the cold, soft pillows over firm ones, showers over baths, and most surprisingly that he has a soft spot for musicals. That fact had made you giggle, imagining Mando singing along to The Music of the Night. With all of his mystery, he wouldn't make for a bad Phantom you think.

As the afternoon wears on, you can feel yourself growing tired. Between the warmth of the sun, the lulling rumble of the truck, and the comfortable environment of the cab, you're fighting to keep your eyes open. Mando notices your struggle and reaches a hand out towards you.

You aren't really sure when this began, but you aren't complaining about it. Mando would hold your hand whenever you fell asleep in the truck, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. His hands were rough, callused from years of work, but they felt nice. They felt strong, comforting. In those moments nothing else in the world mattered. And if you thought about his hands later, touching places other than your hands, then that was your business and no one else’s.

You wake up a couple hours later, Mando calling your name to pull you from your sleep. The sun has moved down in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere close to five o’clock. You’d check the time on the radio, but Mando never seemed to bother keeping it right due to regularly changing time zones with all the cross country traveling.

You’re sitting outside of some 24 hour diner on a random roadside. Mando seems to be fond of these little dives, preferring them to any of the big chain restaurants you always pass. Fast food is the only exception to that rule and even that’s rare, these food stops often being one of few chances to stretch your legs when you’re on the road.

“What do you think? Do they have the best pie in America?” you joke, pointing at the sun-worn sign hanging below the restaurant’s name. You can’t count how many ‘best blank in America’ signs you’ve seen at this point. While you can’t credit their authenticity, it usually did mean there was something good waiting for you on the menu.

“I suppose we’ll have to be the judges of that,” Mando replies.

You tug on your socks and shoes that you pulled off earlier in the day and hop out of the truck. The easy conversation and warm nap have you in a great mood, one that makes you a little bolder than you might otherwise be. Walking into the diner, you grab onto Mando’s arm, smiling at him when he looks down at you in surprise. He doesn’t pull away from you though and your heart beats a little bit faster.

The diner has plenty of open seats and you seat yourselves, grabbing one of the booths. The stiff vinyl isn’t the most comfortable, but you can’t say you’re surprised. The place looks like it hasn’t been renovated in a decade. If the smell from the kitchen is anything to go off of though, the food will be just fine.

A waitress comes over to take your orders. She’s exactly what you would imagine a waitress to look like in a diner like this one. Slightly heavyset, a kind face, and a big smile to offer you. “Hi there, what can I get the two of you?” she asks.

“I’ll take a coke, ma’am,” Mando says. He seems oblivious to the flush on the waitress’s cheeks at his baritone.

“I’ll take a coke too.”

“I’ll be right back, folks.”

You reach over to grab a sticky menu from the end of the table. The stickiness grosses you out a little, but it really does add to the ambiance of the place. Your conversation from earlier drifting back into mind, you immediately look for the breakfast section. Perfect. Their ‘two eggs and more’ option is exactly what you were looking for.

The waitress returns with your drinks and takes your orders, Mando getting himself a burger and fries. You smirk at him, taking the wrapper off of your straw. “I thought you said you weren’t a burger and fries kind of guy?”

Mando watches as you carefully make a wrapper worm, dropping the smallest amount of soda on the paper to make it move. “I just said tacos were my favorite, never said I’m a guy who doesn’t enjoy a good burger and fries, sweetheart.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug.

You fall into a comfortable silence together at the table. Silence isn’t an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. When you first joined Mando you talked all the time. Trying to fill up the empty space, feeling like if someone wasn’t talking then the situation was awkward. Slowly you learned though. The silence was never awkward until you made it that way and unless Mando had something to say, he’d stay quiet. He’s not incapable of conversation, he just doesn’t like to force it.

You softly hum a tune that’s been stuck in your head, looking out the diner window and enjoying the sunset. It’s a gorgeous one today, the sky looking like an oil painting with its gradient of colors. The flat plains allow for a good view of it too, only a small building in the distance blocking any part of the horizon. You kick yourself for not picking up that disposable camera at the gas station this morning. The photo would never do it justice, but at least that way you could have a small piece of the gorgeous sky to hold onto.

Plates being set down on the table brings you back down to earth. You happily dig into your meal, pleased to have been right about the quality of food here. Nothing could beat a good meal at a greasy diner. Mando seems to enjoy his burger as well, scarfing it down well before you finish your plate.

He always ate like that and you aren’t sure why. It’s as though he thinks if he doesn’t eat it fast enough then someone is going to come and steal it from him. Early on you’d tried to speed up your eating, feeling awkward every time he finished and was forced to wait on you. Now though, you don’t care. Mando rarely ever stops moving and a meal with you is a time you can be certain that he isn’t doing anything for once. You hope that eventually it might encourage him to actually enjoy his food as well, but that still seems a long way off.

Mando picks at his fries and sips at his coke while you finish up. The waitress comes by to refill the drinks, another flush on her cheeks when Mando thanks her. There must not be many attractive men who roll through here if a simple thanks has her blushing, you think. Poor lady, she seems quite nice.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask Mando between bites of egg and toast.

“Plan?”

“Yes, plan. We’ve been driving west for two days now and you seem to have some destination in mind. So, what’s the plan?” What plan, of course Mando has a plan. He always does. Was it always well thought out or complete? No, but there is never a time where he doesn’t have some sort of plan, some idea of where he’s off to next. You’re the one without plans, content with travelling alongside him.

Before Mando can reply, the waitress returns to the table and clears his now empty plate. “Can we get a slice of your pie?” Mando asks.

“Of course, what flavor would you like?” she replies.

“Whatever flavor you think is best, ma’am.” That garners yet another blush on the waitress’s cheeks. Wow. Things must be really bad around here then. One good-looking customer shouldn’t have that big of an impact on anyone, much less a woman who’s clearly made this job her life’s work.

She leaves and you prompt Mando again. “So? Plan?”

“I’m going to meet someone tonight, pick up a new job. Then we’ll go from there,” he finally tells you.

You aren’t pleased by his half-cryptic half-telling answer. He’s always doing this to you, giving you answers but never quite the whole thing. You bet he already knows what the next job is, he’s just being coy about it for some ridiculous reason.

You decide not to push it and slide your plate over to Mando. There are some hash browns left and he won’t just ask for them despite the fact that you’re clearly done. He doesn’t say thanks, just picks up the fork and shovels them in. This by now is routine too so it doesn’t bother you, but it’s still odd. Mando is just weird about food.

He finishes the last of your meal and the waitress returns with the pie. “Blueberry, winner of the county festival five years running,” she tells you.

You grab a fork and dig in, suddenly finding the room in your stomach for dessert. Best pie in America might be a stretch, but you believe their claim to the best pie in the county. It’s delicious, eliciting a small but satisfied groan from you on the first bite. You go to take a second bite when you realize Mando hasn’t moved yet, he’s just watching you with an expression on his face that you can’t quite make out.

“Earth to Mando?” you say, waving your hand. “Try the pie, it’s delicious.”

He breaks from his stare and takes a piece of the pie. “‘S good,” he says around the mouthful.

You laugh at his terrible manners. “Gross, finish chewing before you talk.”

He doesn’t have a witty retort, but he gives you a grin that makes you feel like you’ve won a million dollars. It’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes, making them just shy of sparkling. Now you really wish you had bought that disposable camera.

Finishing the award-winning dessert, you and Mando go up to the counter to pay. He’s left a tip on the table, a sizable one in your opinion, but you aren’t going to say anything about it. Mando is always leaving big tips at places like these.

You take in the diner for one last moment, not paying attention to Mando’s conversation with the waitress until she says something that catches your ear.

“-shift ends in a half hour.” Did you hear that right? Was she really propositioning Mando right now? Christ, things must be downright desolate around here.

Your heart stops as you wait to hear Mando’s reply. He could easily accept. She’s an attractive woman with that classic middle America charm about her. Any other man would probably take her up on the offer. Would it shatter your heart into a million pieces if Mando did? Most likely. But do you have any right to feel that way? Most likely not.

Mando isn’t tied to you, at least not in that way, and he’s certainly still a man. You haven’t known him to chase after any women the whole time you’ve been with him, but surely he has needs and the waitress is beautiful and willing. You wouldn’t be able to fault him for it.

“I’m flattered, but the lady here and I need to be getting back on the road,” Mando says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You do your best to keep your face neutral, not wanting to come off as rude while also trying not to make it obvious the way your heart swoops at Mando’s reply. You know he doesn’t mean anything serious by it, but the implication is still very much there.

Embarrassment washes over the poor woman’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…” she trails off, not finishing her thought. You want to feel bad for her, but you can’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You have a good idea of what she assumed. You’ve heard a multitude of mistaken relationships by now between you and Mando. Everything from some kind of family relation, to something more perverted that’s assumed by greasy motel attendants who cast odd glances when you ask for a double instead of a single. It’s never any less uncomfortable.

Mando brushes it off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm, no foul.” The waitress doesn’t blush at his words anymore.

Bill paid, you and Mando leave the diner. His arm leaves you and you climb back into the truck. The radio flickers back to life and neither of you speak. You wish you could know what’s going on inside of his head. Probably just thinking about the next job. That seems like him, always focused on what’s coming next.

You can’t help but be consumed with thoughts of him. Situations like the one with the waitress always left you distracted. There’s no real way to describe your relationship with Mando. You had helped him with a deal and he had helped you with a way out of your one-horse town. Originally neither of you planned on staying together for this long, but at some point Mando stopped asking you where you wanted to go and you stopped asking if he was going to leave.

You’re comfortable around each other, content to drive across America while Mando picks up job after job. At some point your feelings deepened for him, you aren’t exactly sure when, but now you can’t imagine leaving Mando. It’s no longer just about the adventure of it for you. It’s something more, a deeper tie than you’ve ever had to anyone. However, you have no idea if he feels the same way and you don’t intend to find out. Better to love your mystery man from afar then reveal yourself and get left in the dust.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Mando reaches over and turns down the radio. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You’re a bit surprised to hear an apology. After all, he had nothing to really apologize for. The waitress had come onto him, not the other way around. You know Mando isn’t the type to flat out refuse and insult someone like that. What he had done was… fine. You had hardly even considered it.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Mando,” you tell him. “If anything she did, propositioning you like that.”

A small, relieved smile works its way across his face. “It was quite bold.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m not surprised, she was sizing you up since we walked in.”

“She was not,” Mando argues.

You shift in your seat to face him. “Are you kidding? You really didn’t notice her blushing every time you spoke to her?” If Mando was this oblivious maybe you didn’t need to worry about him catching onto you.

“Now you’re just lying, sweetheart.”

“Am not. You just don’t pay attention.”

Mando rolls his eyes and turns the radio back up. He mumbles something but you can’t make it out. You let it slide and allow yourself to relax. Your hand falls to the center of the bench seat as you look out the window. The stars are coming out now, another gorgeous sight in the vast expanse of the sky. So far away from the city, it feels like you can see every pinprick of light the universe has to offer. It’s a bit disorienting honestly. Nothing makes you feel smaller by comparison and yet, you don’t really mind.

You startle as something wraps around your hand. Looking down, you realize that it’s just Mando, holding your hand as he does when you’re close to falling asleep in the truck. You look up at him, confused. You aren’t anywhere close to nodding off. He should know that, so why…?

Mando doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. His thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand. You relax into his touch, turning your eyes back to the stars. Confusion about Mando’s actions doesn’t compare to the way your stomach flips at his gentle touch. It feels nice, domestic almost, if one can consider a life lived out of the front seat of a rusted out pickup domestic. His hand doesn’t leave yours until he pulls into the pothole filled parking lot of some dive bar.

Mando parks and turns the truck off. You move to get out of the truck with him when he squeezes your hand to stop you.

“Stay in the truck,” Mando says. His hand leaves you and he opens his own door, jumping out onto the cracked asphalt.

You look over at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? You know I am old enough to go in there, right?”

“I know. Stay in the truck.” Mando closes the truck door, giving you no more room to argue with him. It pisses you off.

What is this? Soften you up by holding your hand only to leave you behind? You hate when he does this, treating you like a child that’s just tagging along with him. You suppose you are tagging along, which stings a bit more, but you could be helpful, useful even if he would just let you in. Instead he keeps you at arm’s length at times, treating you like you can’t take care of yourself. He has no right to boss you around like that, telling you where you can and can’t go.

You watch his figure enter the bar, temper rising. If this place was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for you. A bar like this had been where you met Mando months ago, working as a bartender and server. It didn’t bring back the best of memories, but you can handle yourself. At worst a fight might break out or patrons might get a little handsy. You can avoid the first and as for the second, it’s not as though Mando would need to put someone in the hospital for getting a little too flirty with you.

After fuming in the truck for a couple minutes, you make up your mind. You look yourself over in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance to look like you hadn't just spent the last two days in a truck. Pleased with yourself, you pull your shirt down slightly to reveal a bit more cleavage. The discovery of the power a pair of tits held in dive bars was one you made a long time ago. You flip the mirror back up and get out of the truck.

You practice your walk as you approach the bar door, trying to keep it calm and confident. Mando is going to be pissed at you for this, you already know, but you refuse to be treated like a child. If coming in here without his permission is what it takes for him to view you differently, then so be it. Younger you might be, but incapable you are not.

The moment you walk in the door, you spot Mando. He’s in the corner, talking to someone with his back to the door. He doesn’t even notice as you walk in and stroll up to the bar.

The man behind the counter is old, his white shirt spotted with stains and a towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s almost too stereotypical a look and you want to laugh. The stiff look he gives you though stifles your amusement.

“What can I get you?” he asks gruffly as you take a seat at the bartop.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Whiskey is not your favorite drink. Not by a long shot. Really, you would have loved to order something fruity that you can’t taste the alcohol in, but whiskey is something you’ve learned to tolerate. You know that appearances matter in a place like this and a fruity drink would mark you as someone lost, not as someone who belongs here. You aren’t looking to get trashed anyway, just something to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t take long before someone is sidling up next to you at the bar. You don’t acknowledge him right away, instead staring up at the small CRT TV that’s playing the local news above the bar. Some murder case from a couple towns over is currently being highlighted. Lovely.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks you.

You glance over at him, enough to get a look, but you don’t let your eyes linger. Lingering eyes would mean an invitation that you certainly don’t want to give. You have to admit, as far as seedy dive bar men went, he isn’t hard to look at. Not much older than you, clean shaven, bright blue eyes. Another time you might have gone for someone like him. Not now. These days your thoughts are only occupied by scruff, dark hair, and warm brown eyes.

“Came in for a drink,” you reply simply.

He leans in a bit closer. “Can I buy you another?”

You take a sip of your drink. “I think I’m alright, thanks.”

He pushes in even further, placing a hand on your thigh. This guy didn’t take no for an answer apparently. “Aw, come on now, don’t be that way sweetheart.”

Hearing him call you sweetheart makes you want to punch him more than him touching you does. It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, harsh and manipulative, not the smooth and warm way Mando says it. For a moment, you do seriously consider punching this guy square in the jaw before deciding against it. You came in here to prove a point and not being able to handle a pushy guy would just prove the exact opposite of that.

You turn in your chair to move your thigh away from him. He has the decency to let his hand fall at least. “Don’t call me that,” you tell him.

“Alright then, what do I call you?”

You turn your attention back to the TV. Now they were highlighting a feel good story about an animal adoption from the nearby shelter. Odd shift in tone. You don’t reply to Blue-eyes and hope he gets the message.

“Playing hard to get, that’s fine,” he says. You take another sip of your whiskey. The news shifts to the weather. There’s more warm weather on the way for the next week, no storms in sight. That’ll be nice to drive in you think.

Blue-eyes’ hand returns to your thigh, creeping up higher than it was before. “I don’t mind hard to get, sweetheart.”

That one garners a slap. You do it before you even give it a real thought. It’s a good one at least, making a very solid sound as his head spins. It’s a testament to the bar that no one even spares it a second glance. Blue-eyes turns back to you, furious.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he hisses at you, roughly grabbing your arm.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t take your hand off of her.”

You’ve never been so happy to hear Mando’s voice in your life. Could you handle this guy? Probably. Do you want to? Absolutely not. You know on your own there's a near certain chance you'll end up with bruises before this guy gives up.

Somewhere in your mind you register the very real possibility that Mando is pissed at you right now. You shove it down, choosing to focus on the fact that he did just come to your defense.

Blue-eyes is more stupid then he looks and doesn’t read the very obvious threat Mando poses. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip on you. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, old man?”

You can't say you're surprised when Mando punches him in the face instead of answering the question. You also can’t say that you feel bad about it either. The surprise and hurt of the sudden punch makes Blue-eyes release his grip on you, giving you enough time to move out of the way as Mando moves in. Mando grabs a fistful of Blue-eyes' shirt and pulls the guy in towards his face.

“Do you regret it?” Mando grits out. Blue-eyes sputters something that sounds like an apology and pushes himself away.

Satisfied, Mando now turns on you. You were right, he's pissed. His typically soft, warm eyes are hard on you now as he pulls you away.

You flounder to tell him you haven't paid for your drink but he just ignores you, dragging you out of the bar. If you were smarter, you would think to be a little scared about making a man like Mando mad at you. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with how he's barely even trying to overpower you and yet you couldn't break free of his grip if you tried. You wonder if there's something wrong with you for how much it's turning you on.

Arriving back at the truck, Mando releases his grip. "Get in," he demands.

You do as you're told and climb into the passenger seat as Mando goes around. Nerves finally settle in. Mando would never hurt you, you know that, but he could decide to ditch you somewhere. Whatever this situation is with him, it's far from formal. He has no obligation to you and could easily choose to end it. With the trouble you’ve just caused, you wouldn’t be surprised if this all comes to a swift and sudden end.

As Mando climbs into the cab, you stare down at the floorboards, terrified that he's going to tell you he's dropping you off somewhere and leaving you behind for good. You can't imagine your life without him now. There's nowhere for you to go, nothing for you to do without him. Right back to square one.

He doesn't speak right away, which only makes you more nervous. He peels the truck out of the parking lot, headed back in the direction you came from. You still don't look at him. It's obvious you fucked up and there's nothing you can really say to fix that. Your only hope is that he forgives you.

You're headed back through the small nearby town when he finally speaks. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

You don’t say anything in response. Anything you can come up with sounds childish in your head. The exact opposite of what you'd been trying to prove. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence as an answer.

“Why would you even do something like that? Do you know how stupid that was?” His hands are tight on the wheel, glancing between you and the road as he yells.

You mumble back to him.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He called me sweetheart,” you say a little louder.

“What?” He isn't going to let you off the hook with this and it gets under your skin. Some part of you thought he might be proud of you for smacking that creep and here he is berating you for it.

“He called me sweetheart, alright?” you half-shout.

Mando gives you a confused look, clearly not the answer he was expecting. “Do you- do you have a problem with that?” The heat is still present in his voice, but you can hear a little worry in it now. Shit. This is not what you wanted out of this whole ordeal.

You've never wanted the ground to come up and swallow you more. Why didn’t you just say that you smacked him for touching you? That would have been simple. How do you answer this without making everything weird? No, Mando, I don’t have a problem with that. I smacked him because I only like it when you call me that. Sure. That won’t be weird or awkward at all.

After cursing yourself for a few seconds, you manage a response. “No, I- I just didn’t like it when he said it.”

"Oh." That's Mando's only reply.

You know he's still angry about you coming into the bar, but apparently your answer has sidelined him. If it wasn't so embarrassing, you might even be rejoicing at his reaction. Instead you just feel like a fool.

The silence remains as you pull into a little local motel with the vacancy sign lit up. Mando hands you forty dollars, way more than you need, and tells you to get a room.

Okay. So he isn't getting rid of you… yet.

You barely even listen to the attendant as they tell you they only have one single available for the night. Now is not the time to be arguing about sleeping arrangements. You take the key, room 104, and make your way back to the truck.

You grab your bag from the flatbed and let Mando know the room number. He nods and goes to pull the truck around. You kick yourself as you walk over to the room. Why didn’t you just stay in the truck? Why didn’t you just lie to Mando about your reasons? He’s smart and it won’t take long now for him to put two and two together. Especially if he asks anymore questions.

You have no idea how Mando might react. If learning about your feelings towards him combined with what happened in the bar might be enough to leave you. He’s certainly not cold with you, but you’re not sure you’d call any of his actions romantic either. Holding your hand after the diner today is the closest he’s ever come. You wish you knew what that meant to him. You know what it meant to you.

Mando parks the truck outside of the room as you unlock the door. It’s not a fancy room, just one big square with a bathroom attached. There’s a full bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a small table with a couple chairs. You toss your bag on the table and sit down on the edge of the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t upset, Mando can always see through your lies. Might as well just get this over with.

Nervous, you hide your face in your hands, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. You’re ready to deal with it, but not while actually looking at him. You can’t handle seeing his face as he figures things out; the way he might look at you while he rejects you. Suddenly you feel a wave of sympathy for the waitress earlier today. You hope Mando will let you down easy like he did for her.

You don’t look up when Mando comes into the room. His boots enter your line of vision and you close your eyes. You can’t look at any part of him right now. It’s too painful.

Mando says your name softly and you can sense as he kneels down in front of you. You don’t reply. Gently, he moves your hands away from your face. You still refuse to look at him and he cups your chin, lifting your head up to his.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You wish you could resist, but you can’t. Not when he speaks to you in that soft tone. Not when he calls you that.

You meet his eye and see all the concern and worry he holds there. “I’m sorry, Mando. I should have listened to you.”

His hand slides up to hold your cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I could have at least told you why I didn’t want you coming in with me.”

You’re surprised at his apology. Two apologies he didn’t need to make in one day. This isn’t something you ever expected. You assumed he would still be full of heat and anger, not this careful kindness.

“Why didn’t you want me to come in?” you ask. You need to know the reason, need to know why it is he told you to stay behind. No matter how much the reason might hurt.

Mando sighs. “I didn’t want you to come in because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.”

You pull back out of shock. “What?” Did you hear that correctly? Could that mean what you thought it might?

He takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m a jealous man.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind. There are so many things you want to say, so many questions you want to ask, and yet none of them can find their way out. As a result, you do the only thing you can.

You lean in towards him, slowly, giving him enough time to stop you if he so chooses. He doesn’t though, instead following your lead and moving in closer. You carefully search his eyes for any answers they may hold. Your noses bump and you both pause. “Mando, I-”

He cuts you off. “Din. My name is Din.”

You close the gap and kiss him. The kiss is careful at first, as though you’re both still looking to confirm that yes, this is what you both want. Mand- Din’s lips are soft and sweet against yours and you melt as it’s everything you could have imagined and more. A small moan escapes you, one that you’re embarrassed about until it causes Din to deepen the kiss. Caution evaporates, quickly turning into passion as your tongues meet.

Din moves, getting up from the floor and pushing you back against the bed. His lips never leave yours, devouring you as though you might slip away at any moment. He gives your bottom lip a small nip, quickly soothing it with his tongue. You pull away, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this okay?” Din asks, his voice low with desire. You respond by pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. Your positions shift as the kiss continues, Din’s knee finding its way between your legs as his arms wrap around you. Both of your hands have worked their way into his hair, something you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.

Din begins to kiss his way down your neck, leaving little love bites along the way. You gently tug on his hair, pulling a heavenly sound from him that only intensifies your pool of desire. Desperate for more, you move a hand down, seeking the hem of his shirt and slipping your hand underneath. His skin feels remarkable under your fingertips.

Din pulls away from your neck and quickly divests himself of his shirt. He allows you a moment to take him in, his lean physique flexing as he holds himself above you. Scars litter his body in various shapes and sizes, but you think they look beautiful against the glow of his honeyed skin.

Taking the opportunity, you remove your top as well, leaving you in your basic everyday bra. You wish you had worn your other bra, the sexier one, but with the way Din is looking at you, you’re not sure it matters. His lips return to your body, working his way across any and all of your newly exposed skin. One hand splays on your waist, holding you, grounding Din against you.

“You’re so soft, sweetheart,” Din murmurs against you. His lips find their way up to your chest, placing careful kisses against the globes of your breasts. He pauses and looks up at you, seeking your permission. You arch your back, allowing Din access to slip a hand beneath you and undo the clasp.

He pulls the bra away from you and you flush under the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect, you’re perfect,” Din says before reoccupying his mouth with your breasts. It seems that he has a real oral fixation, not that you mind in the slightest. His warm mouth feels heavenly against you, licking and sucking wherever he can.

Din takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other. It’s the best thing you’ve felt in months, better than any of your late night fantasies when you would try to satisfy your growing want for the man currently giving you so much pleasure. As though your attempts could ever come close to the real thing.

Din releases your nipple with a pop and returns to your mouth, licking his way inside. His kiss alone is enough to make you see stars. It makes you forget any other kiss you’ve ever shared, enveloping you in him and him alone.

You pull back slightly from the kiss, unable to take more without further relief. “Din, please, I want you,” you pant into his mouth. Din growls, actually growls, at your words. It's a far hotter response than it should be.

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.” His knee comes up and presses his thigh against you where you want him most, causing you to moan out his name. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

He’s trying to kill you, you think. Calling you a name like that. Sweet girl. It loops in your mind until Din’s fingers ghost over your nipples again. “I want you to touch me,” you tell him.

“I’m already touching you,” Din says. He’s a tease, you think, growing slightly frustrated with him. His thigh moves against you again though and he’s immediately forgiven.

“Please, Din,” you whine, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Thankfully he does, moving his leg away and quickly removing your pants. You already know you’re soaking, your panties feeling cold against you with the loss of the other cloth barrier.

Din pauses for another moment to take you in before moving. You’re nearly bare before him, almost entirely on display.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his hands parting your thighs. “So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine.” You can feel yourself clench at his words. No one has ever made you feel this way before. His stare only relaxes you more, his words feeling like a warm blanket wrapping around your fears and quieting them.

Din’s fingers brush against you through the thin cotton. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? I can already feel how wet you are.”

He continues to tease you, only leaving you capable of nodding your head back at him. His eyes catch yours, watching your reaction as he pushes the near useless fabric off to the side and pushes one finger between your folds. Just the small touch sets you aflame, pushing yourself down onto his hand, wanting more.

His finger leaves you and you frown until you watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off of it. Din moans at the taste. “You taste better than you do in my dreams.”

He leans down to kiss you, sharing the taste of yourself while he pulls your panties off completely. They’re thrown haphazardly into the room, lost to be found for later.

Din then moves himself between your legs, slowly working kisses down your body as he slides back onto his knees on the floor. He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed with ease and starts nipping and kissing your inner thighs. Your hands wind back into his hair, while you lie in disbelief that this is really happening right now.

Gentle kisses are placed along your folds, Din moving back as you try to grind your hips down onto him. His eyes catch yours again, mouth hovering over your clit as he speaks. “I’m going to taste you until you cum on my face and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

This time you manage a response, frantic to let him know that’s exactly what you want. “Yes, please, I want you so badly, Din.”

It’s all he needs to hear. His mouth comes down on your clit, carefully playing with the bundle of nerves, making you cry out and clench around nothing. He pulls away slightly and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top, pausing again at your clit to give it a teasing suck. Your hands pull at his hair from the attention.

He moves back down, teasing your entrance with his mouth. He moans, lapping up your pussy, acting every part a man dying of thirst who’s found oasis at your core. You buck into him and his hands quickly wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place. Din wants to pleasure you, but on his own terms, at his own speed.

You can’t make a coherent thought as he continues to eat you out. Small snippets of words make their way out of you, none of them making any real sense in conjunction with one another. It’s not until his thumb finds your clit as he continues to lick, suck, and nip at you that you find complete words to shout. “Din, oh god, yes, right there, I’m so close...”

Moments later you feel the tension within you snap, crying out as your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure. Din continues to work you through your orgasm, only stopping when you physically push his head away from you. He trails hot kisses along your inner thighs again, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you taste, how perfect your pussy is.

As you come down from your high, Din removes the last of his clothes, finally freeing his stiff erection. Your breath catches as you take him in, your Adonis in the flesh. He’s gorgeous, you think, wondering what you did to get so lucky.

Then he’s back over top of you, kissing and sucking at your skin. Some of those are bound to leave marks for tomorrow but you don’t mind. You want everyone to see, for everyone to know that you’re his. No more mistaken assumptions about your relationship, you want it on display for the world.

You look down to catch a better glimpse of his cock, satiating the curiosity that’s plagued you for so long. He’s big. More than enough to fill you, possibly even more than you can handle. As wet as you are, you know you’ll need him to go slow, to slowly stretch you out before he can truly fuck you.

You tilt your hips, bumping against him, letting him know that you want him. “Do you want my fingers first?” Din asks. You know you should say yes, but you can’t imagine another moment without knowing what he feels like inside of you.

“No,” you tell him. “Just go slow.”

Din places a quick searing kiss against your lips and positions himself. The head of his cock presses against your slick entrance and you feel like you’re already seeing stars. Din is muttering in your ear, holding you tightly against him as he pushes into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart. So tight and wet for me. I can’t wait to fill you up, to feel every inch of your sweet pussy.”

You nearly forget to breath as he slowly pushes in further. You can feel every inch of him and you only want more. Din’s stream of compliments are interrupted when he finally bottoms out in you, holding himself still as your walls clench and stretch around him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You turn your head and pull him into a blazing kiss, loving the way he feels filling you up. You wonder how you were ever satisfied with your fingers before when this had been next to you for so long. Din is apparently thinking along the same lines, whispering to you, “I’d have done this long ago if I knew you felt this good.”

You don’t even have time to consider the words as he slowly begins to move in you. The pleasure borders on agonizing as you begin to move your hips, encouraging him to move faster. Din responds quickly to your urging, setting a furious pace as he begins to lose all control. You know you’ll still be feeling him tomorrow and the thought makes you smile. You never want to go another day without a reminder of how he feels.

His thumb returns to your clit and you don’t have time to warn him before you’re thrown into another orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you lose yourself in the feeling of cumming on his cock. Din quickly follows, pulling out of you just in time to paint your stomach with ropes of his spend. You mourn the loss of him, but once Din finishes he buries himself back inside of you, causing another shock of pleasure to zing through your body.

Din rolls the both of you over, keeping himself sheathed in you, and allowing you to collapse on top of him. You’re both sweaty and panting, trying to come up with words. Din’s fingers lightly trace along your back, causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. You lift your head up from his chest in order to look at his face.

He’s completely debauched, sweat causing hair to cling to his forehead, the rest completely wild from your hands. His eyes are still blown wide, happily looking back at you. His lips are pink and swollen from all the kisses and licks he’s pressed into your skin. You know you can’t look much better than him.

You give a small clench around him and smile at the expression that runs across Din’s face. “I love the way you fill me,” you tell him. Din presses a loving kiss against your sweaty forehead.

“I never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours.” You can tell he means it too. If he could, he would stay buried in you forever. You love the way that sounds. His eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feeling of having you surround him.

“Din,” you say.

His eyes pop back open and refocus on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

A smile blooms across your face. “Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Din. It suits you.”

His name suits him in a different way than Mando does. Mando is the rough exterior, the front he puts up to the world. The one who punches men in bars for touching you and calling you pet names. The one that strikes fear into others, knowing that if he’s hot on their trail that they’re screwed. Din is the soft inside, the place where all of his ‘sweethearts’ originate, the cause for the hand holding and sparkling smiles. The man behind the armor that he presents to the world, the one who kisses and fills you up just right.

Din’s arms wrap around you tightly, clearly intent on never letting you go. You’re fine with that, letting it sink in that you’re finally laying in bed with the man who’s consumed your thoughts for months. A small, joyous giggle escapes you.

“What’s so funny?” Din asks.

“I thought you were going to leave me earlier. Now here I am, laying on top of you with your cock still inside of me.”

Din chuckles and you can feel it rumble in his chest. “I’m never letting you go sweetheart, no matter how much you piss me off.”

You fold your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on your hands. “I am sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I felt like you were treating me like a child,” you confess.

Din’s eyes widen a bit at your admission. “I always notice you, mesh’la. I never meant to treat you that way. I only want to keep you safe.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I feel so silly about it all.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from your face.

“Next time, I’ll take you in with me. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine.” He grinds his hips up into you to prove his point. It makes you squeal, causing a smirk to settle on Din’s lips. You give his cheek a small flick in retaliation but make no attempt to move.

You lay there for a little while longer, laying your head back down against Din’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath you. His hands trace anywhere he can touch on you, intoxicated by having you so close against him. Eventually though, you feel the call to use the bathroom and can no longer ignore it.

Din is almost painful sliding out of you, but you’re more upset about the loss of having him buried in you. Your legs are shaky as you stand, managing to make it to the bathroom on wobbly knees. You take a moment to clean yourself up, running a damp cloth across your body. Exhaustion hits as you return to bed, crawling under the covers and into Din’s arms.

You begin to drift off when Din asks, “Why’d you get a single? Not that I’m complaining.”

“All they had left. Maybe it was a sign,” you mumble back.

Din chuckles and presses a kiss against your head. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #modern!au #modern!din #din djarin fic #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandocrasis fic

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talesofesther · 3 years

Text

Take me back to the 40's

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky shares a moment with Y/N and they talk about how was life in the 40's.

Requested by anon: Hey, if you’re taking requests can I request a Bucky x reader where Bucky is showing her some stuff from his time, like 40s music and things like that.

A/N: Idk if this turned out exactly how you wanted, I hope it did, and I hope you like it anon ♥. My knowledge about the 40's is totally based on google searches so if anything is wrong, blame it on google lol.

Masterlist

"Do you wanna come over tonight?"

Bucky's hold on his cup of coffee tightened slightly when the words left his mouth, while his other gloved hand tapped the table anxiously.

Y/N raised her eyebrows a little in surprise, a tiny smile forming on her lips. The cozy coffee shop they were in was busy with people going in and out, waiters passing by to deliver orders to the tables, and a soft vintage melody playing in the background.

It was standard procedure already, Bucky would exit his therapy session, Y/N would have her lunch break and they would sit together in the nearby coffee shop. Sometimes they talked, sometimes Bucky would share feelings he didn't even dare say to his therapist, while Y/N held his hand, making him feel lighter. Other times Y/N would tell him about the several cute animals she had already welcomed at her job that day, making Bucky smile at the joy in her eyes. And there were the times that neither would talk much, their mere presence being just enough.

Y/N became a constant for Bucky, a safe place. But their relationship remained at meeting in the streets, walking around the park and drinking coffee together. However, lately, Bucky longed for more. He wanted more of her, he wanted to know her more, and surprisingly, wanted her to know him more.

When he told her about his past, who he really was, he was surprised to hear an 'I know'. She recognized him, and having an accidental glimpse at his arm one day confirmed her theory.

Bucky's eyes glistened with tears that day, at the fact that nothing needed to change. She accepted him.

"To talk, I mean... Maybe watch some movies. You don't have to, I just thought..." Coming back to the present, Bucky quickly added an extra explanation to his previous request, already panicking by the look on Y/N's face and her silence.

Damn you Sam, who suggested this would be a good idea.

"I'd love to" Her sweet voice and smile stopped Bucky's descending thoughts.

Letting out a genuine smile of his own, and admittedly, with a slight blush to his cheeks; Bucky said a timid "great".

_____

Bucky didn't consider himself to be the best cook out there, but by the looks of it, Y/N had enjoyed the meal he prepared. After eating and talking about random subjects, they were now sat at Bucky's couch, trying to find something decent to watch. It was still an early night.

The couch wasn't big, and Bucky was finding it quite hard to concentrate by having Y/N's body pressed close to him. He felt nervous for having her in his tiny apartment, he's never brought anyone there before. But she, being the kindest soul he's ever met, even complimented some of his furniture.

He could feel Y/N's eyes on him, she had her head resting against the back of the couch, sitting with her body turned towards him. "Tell me something about how it was back then. In your time" Her voice was gentle, giving him the choice to refuse if he wanted to.

Bucky's attention drifted away from the TV and looked towards her. His heart felt warm, no one's ever asked about his past with the intention to just know, learn about the good things. But Y/N has always been like this, always going for the least obvious thing to ask, or say, or do. Bucky figured that's probably why he fell for her.

"It wasn't that much different from today, apart from the technology. The clothes and the music changed a lot though" Bucky replied with a smile, his attention focused on how Y/N's own lips turned up slightly. He wanted to kiss her.

"Tell me about it?" She whispered back.

"The songs didn't have much singing back then, but they had a pretty nice beat. There's one, I think the name was... 'Rendezvous', it always stuck to me." The look on Bucky's face was far away, nostalgic.

"Oh just a second, I gotta search that." With curiosity peaking, Y/N took her phone and found a 40's playlist on YouTube. Going through the songs, she found the one with the name Bucky said. The song started playing and filled the dim-lit room with a very classic beat, the kind you would probably listen to on a bar at night.

"That is... Really good. It's sort of relaxing, in a way"

Bucky didn't know why, but he blushed at the look of happy surprise on Y/N's face.

"What about the fashion?" Y/N's eyes were sparkling with the newfound love for the 40's.

"Well, the women dressed in dresses, mostly. Some of them had bright colors and usually had long sleeves. The men used a lot of social clothing, ties and all... The pants way too high up their waists" Bucky added the last part with a chuckle, fondly remembering the days of a life that sometimes didn't even felt his anymore.

Y/N's hand came up to gently hold the dog tags hanging from Bucky's neck, he shivered when her touch brushed against his chest. "Do you miss it?"

"Yeah, I do" Bucky looked down, his mind lost in memories for a minute. "But I feel like... I'm adjusting"

He let out a soft sigh and hesitantly took her hand on his, running his fingers through the soft skin of her palm and holding it tight.

"I think... I'm gonna have to come here more often. So you can tell me everything, all the stories from back then" Y/N's quiet words almost got lost to Bucky's ears as he noticed her moving closer. Her presence was intoxicating.

"I would love that" He didn't know to what he was directing that anymore. To her coming back? To the way she implied she cared? To kissing her here and now? Yes to all of it.

Their lips met. With the classic song still playing in the background, Bucky felt like he was back in the 40's, and hopelessly in love with the pretty girl.

At least one of those things was true.

#bucky barnes x reader #marveledit #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #mcu #marvel #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #fluff #angst #imagine #fanfic #buckybarnesedit #the winter soldier #tfatwsedit #my story #bucky barnes imagine

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himitsu-luna · 3 years

Text

∞☽⋆ Ateez reaction to their thicker s/o being insecure about themselves ⋆☾∞

♡⊹ Seonghwa

He makes you feel safe

He can feel your insecurity in his heart, as his own. He patiently hears you ranting about it, and looks at you softly, brows frowned in apprehension

He understands how society can make you feel. He already hated it, now he hates it even more, seeing his special person so affected by nonsense standards

He is so caring to you, choosing the best words to show you he understands you, validating your feelings, and, at the same time, hyping you up in such an adorable and warm way that makes you feel touched.

The sincerity his words and actions carry are truly powerfull. You can see he means every single thing, and this makes you feel a lot better, secure and safe.

♡⊹ Hongjoong

He makes you feel valued

Hongjoong receives your insecure thoughts with the most comforting smile, ready to talk about them with you as much as you need.

You spend hours and hours talking, and he also talks about his own insecurities. You two can empathise and support each other like no one else.

But Hongjoong is not made only by talk. He shows you how much he loves you, exactly the way you are.

The way he walks by your side, his face holding the proudest smile, as if he is showing you off, as if you're the most valuable, amazing, wonderful being of the universe, is outstanding. And you feel you're truly worth of being loved, you feel you truly deserve being loved.

♡⊹ Yunho

He makes you feel confident

Yunho is lost. He is legit lost and in disbelief. To his eyes, you are simply perfect, and you got him by surprise when you talked to him about this insecurity of yours

Being thicker is one of your charm points, out of an infinite list of other points, and he makes sure you know every single one of them

"I love every single thing about you! Please, your body is... simply beautiful, God!" , he says, his cheeks getting gradually redder as he speaks.

He boosts your confidence, he makes you genuinely feel yourself, he makes you look ahead, chin up, like the queen you are.

♡⊹ Yeosang

He makes you feel special

Yeosang pays a lot of attention on you, so he knows something is bothering you. He waits for you to open up to him, and when you do, he is all ears and heart.

He may look almost undisturbed on the outside, but he is boiling out of exasperation on the inside. He doesn't like it at all. This should not be a worry to you or to anyone.

He may not talk much, he may not give you rivers and rivers of sweet words, but he is a man of actions.

He makes sure you feel loved everyday. Every single move of his, every caring touch, every thoughtful compliment, every reassuring gaze, everything is saturated with his absolute admiration and adoration for you. You feel you're the luckiest and most special human being, which certainly you are.

♡⊹ San

He makes you feel loved

San is all worried about you, asking you about all sorts of things, ranting with you, clinging on you, making you pour everything out.

It's totally unacceptable for him. No no, big no. He must shower you with unconditional love. He must make you the happiest person on Earth. He must make you see and accept that all your traits are gorgeous, the most perfect, the most beautiful.

He definetely worships and pampers you more than ever. Endless compliments, sincere love confessions out of blue, staring too much at you and blushing like crazy at the sight of your amazing figure.

He makes his life goal to make you see yourself as he sees you. To make you love yourself as he loves you.

♡⊹ Mingi

He makes you feel beautiful

Mingi gets sad with you. He hates it, the affliction spread through his body, while he listens to you opening your heart

His arms are already embracing you, fully taking the figure he loves so much.

His little sad pout turns into a big smile, as he encourages you to enjoy the moment, enjoy who you are, to care only about yourself and what's good for you. Little by little, you see your life changing.

You can be sure you won't ever feel insecure again. That tight jeans you've always wanted to use, but you never got the courage to do so because of your insecurity? You'll be feeling yourself in it, because Mingi's jaw will drop everytime he sees you wearing it, and he will say a billion times how beautiful you are.

♡⊹ Wooyoung

He makes you feel you'll never be alone

He feels revolted with the universe and can't accept this kind of thought is making you suffer

He is ready to throw hands for you, to the point his starts ranting about the subject so passionately that it makes you giggle

"Listen to me only! People know nothing, they are all fools! I'm a wise man, Y/N, and if I say you're the most beautiful and wonderful being that has ever existed, then you are!!"

Being appreciated with such intensity makes you feel better. It makes you see that you'll always be beautiful to the eyes of people that can truly comprehend the actual meaning of beauty, people that deserve to see your beauty. And that's all that matters.

♡⊹ Jongho

He makes you feel at peace

Jongho sees you down, and he calmly asks what's wrong. He hears you with a serious face, his eyes not leaving yours even for a second. You don't talk much, but it's not needed.

You are aware of how much he knows you, but he never fails on taking you by surprise. The way he knows your exact thoughts and feelings is amazing.

And because he knows you so well, he knows how to comfort you. He offers you the most caring and lovely words, still being down to earth, practical and mature, with his very helpful insights and visions.

He is able to make you see yourself from a much more beautiful angle, and you feel your heart lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•° Thanks for the request, @anpanseok !! I hope you like it! 💗

•° taglist - @soleilsuhh @black-swvn @cupidluvstarrz @kpopsnowball @kaepopsicle @purplepsycho03 @najatheangel @dundun-baby @emuava @reallylikethevibeshere @softformoontaeil

* If you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just send me an ask or a message (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

•° Masterlist

...

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #wooyoung #mingi #jongho #queue

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tellerluna-stories · 3 years

Text

ii. rex lapis

The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.

Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.

With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.

He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.

“My lord.”

Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”

Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.

“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”

“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”

He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”

He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”

“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”

“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”

“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”

He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.

“My friend...?”

Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.

“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”

Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.

The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.

Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”

“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”

“They haven’t....?”

But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”

“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”

He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.

“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”

“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”

To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.

“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”

———

“This is incredibly reckless.”

“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”

Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.

“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”

The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.

You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“

Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.

“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”

He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.

What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?

“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”

With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.

“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”

“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”

“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”

Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.

Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.

For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.

“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”

His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”

“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”

“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”

Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.

“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“

“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“

“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”

Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”

You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.

A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”

“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”

“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”

Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?

“So, is it good?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“

“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”

Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”

Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.

How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?

“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.

“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...

“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”

“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”

A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.

Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”

“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“

“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”

“How about—“

“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”

Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”

“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”

“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”

“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”

“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”

“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.

“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”

In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”

“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”

“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”

Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”

The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.

He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”

“...Oh.”

“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”

Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”

“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”

The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.

It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.

You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.

Not for your sake.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.

Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.

Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.

Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”

But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #this chapter was basically ‘how many times can i make them confess without actually confessing’#these idiots #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.tales: living treasure #pining #mutual pining

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