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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

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𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

Mark Lee

so we all know mark is a quite expressive person with his emotions

and come on when playing video games we all rage and throw fits so emotions are running especially high ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

what i’m trying to say is that mark is yelling, banging fists against his desk, laughing his ass off and pissing you off

i mean mark’s laugh is very cute and ENTIRE BLESSING TO HEAR but ♡ sleep ♡ is also precious

but mark can’t hear your exaggerated sighs nor see your ever-lasting pout

so you lift your tired self from the bed and plop down on his lap

mark : “hUH??¿¿ B-BABE?!¿¿” （＊〇□〇）……！

haechan, audible through the headphones: mark, not in front of the boys, you wild beast (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)

mark opens his mouth to shout in protest but you bury your head in his shoulder and let out a soft whine and mark.just.COMBUSTS!!!

he grumbles something about how haechan is due for a good beating and nuzzles the side of his face against the top of your head ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

whenever he has a break and doesn’t need both hands to play, he brings one arm around you, cuddling you closer to himself and running his hand along the length of your spine

or just LAYS HIS HAND ON YOUR THIGH askfafwsr- ya know (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

doesn’t have the heart to break the atmsophere even after he shuts down his computer and just cocoons you in his warm arms and hums a song softly as you doze off intertwined together UwU

Huang Renjun

you’re just trying to be cute and create a romantic enviroment as you cuddle up to your boyfriend who is immersed in his game

“y/n?” his voice is soft, almost a hush and it could almost lull you to sleep

“yeah?” ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

“i can’t see because of your head”

FIRST HIT HOME but you didn’t give up of course, just flattened your cheek against his shoulder to accomodate his complaint

just as you settle downs drowsily, glued to his frint, he covers his mic to grumble to you again ಠ╭╮ಠ

“it’s getting hot”

SECOND HIT HOME and you’re starting to get discouraged as you scoot a little further away from his body and loosen the grip of your hands around his neck (๑′°︿°๑)

but of course ever grumpy renjun still had complaints karen who

“my legs are falling asleep”

*SIGH* “eye roll* *definetely not pouting* you start pulling yourself away from him and trudge defeatedly and bury yourself under a ton of blankets

but he just chickles, has the AUDACITY to chuckle, and brings you back on his lap, squeezing the life out of you (≧д≦ヾ)

“i was just kidding babe don’t leave me!!” says renjun as he sways you kinda violently may i add from side to side and rubs his cheek against yours cuz he’s a kitty and adorable confirmed ε=(｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）

rough love you have other there as you can see

Lee Jeno

jeno is GENTLE GIANT （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

gentle loving giant in this case actually so even better

so we all know how the dreamies exposed this boy TWICE for playing video games 25/8 and he got scolded by his mum lol so i’m thinking

you’re trying to get him to go to sleep or at least rest his eyes he’s already blind enough i WONDER WHY damn

all this started when you settled in front of his computer to block his view

and as he argued with you he decided enough is enough and pulled you into his lap, traping you against his chest (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

“jeno it’s 3 am!!” :<

“ just one more round baby” of video games ya nasties...no? only me?ok

he tries to give you a *smooch* but you move your face away and refuse to turn around and let him kiss you

and that’s where jeno draws the line (; ･`д･´)

kithes are something that can’t berefused between you two, an unspoken rule you apparenly weren’t aware of

so with a ‘eep!!!’ from you, he simly stands up from his seat with you latched onto him like a koala like (＾ω＾ ≡ °д°)

“jeno put me down!!!11!!1! NOW!!”

“kiss first” (.◜ ᵕ ◝.)

“are you nuts??!!!?” *exaggerated smooch* “now put me down!!”

needless to say he’s not letting go anytime soon, he just plops into bed and you cuddle until you fall asleep you’ve been scammed

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is a very VERY petty brat person ಠ_ಠ

so guess what... fights with him are a national competition of petty acts

and you know what his ultimate move in your most recent fight is? *drum rolls* turning off the central heating really original hyuck i applaud you

and this kid knows exactly what he’s doing when he sits down in his gaming chair with a shit-eating grin (ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)

he hears you stumble around the house in your dora the explorer exploration in the search of a blanket

but guess what? they’re all under his flat cake ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

so when you bardge in the room and find him hogging all the warmth you hope to intimidate him with your ✨ highly horrific glare ✨

but he pretends to be too busy to notice you so you just defeatedly settle on his lap and under the blankets

“well well well look who’s crawling back with their tail between their legs”

“i might just cut off your front microscopic tail” (눈_눈)

but i just know he’s gonna cuddle you until you sweat your ass off under that mountain of blankets

and even when he can’t hold you, he’ll press his lips against your forehead, lingering there as his warm breath fanned across your skin

he also made a deal with you to which you didn’t necessarily agree with but that’s a minor detail am i rite

if he wins the round he gets a kiss as a reward (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

if he loses, he gets 2 kisses as a consolation (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)و ̑̑

you’re getting suspicious of his 4 consecutive losses

Na Jaemin

he’s a fluff ball we all know it, we all love it

he’d DIG THAT KIND OF SHIT ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و

and he babies you to the end of earth

99.8% chance that he’s gonna stop playing just to cradle you against his chest properly because YOU’RE. HIS. BABY!!! periodt.

cue yelling from his teammates for abadoning them in the middle of the game but that’s inevitable

“na jaemin you SIMP!!!!”

but jaemin is too busy making puppy eyes at you (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。

he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach and then scoop your hands in his and bring them to his lips for another shower of kithes (*'､^*)chu

and if you kiss him back??

this man will literally COMUST with uwus istg

like just imagine you brush your lips against his neck and then you gently nuzzle against him??

jaemin would melt in your embrace ♡(｡- ω -)

even if he did eventually go back to playing, he’d press kises anywhere in reach periodically cuz he’s soft like that

would also LOVE feeling your breath fan his neck he gets a unique feeling of comfort knowing that he has you so close to him (๑˃ᴗ˂)

“even if you were the impostor i’d still vote myself out for you”

the romanticism of this decade

Zhong Chenle

this boi is ruthless when playing video games

god frobid you’re in his way cuz you’re getting SQUASHED (｢⊙Д⊙)｢

he obvioulsy LOVES winning

but ya know what he loves more than winning???

𝓨𝓞𝓤 ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

so chenle is all (｡+･`ω･´)

“you waste of space move along!!!!” “shoot that gun straight dammit or i’ll shove it up yo- oh hey baby°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°“

the moment you plop down on his lap and curl yourself up with your head tucked under his chin, his blazing eyes soften so cutely

and so raging kid chenle turns into best babyboi chenle (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

he M E L T S like he just leans into your touch and continues gaming A LOT more silently and just smiles absent-mindedly the entire time

“yo chenle you dead????” most likely jisung on the other side of the headphones

“no?” ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

“... guys he’s plotting something, reatreat!! i repeat, RETREAT!!!”

“what?? no, what do you mean by that !??!!!”

you stir as his voice rises in volume and chenle immediately settles down again and shushes you while patting your heah and threading his fingers through your hair carefully (*-ω-)

goes straight for jisung after that teammate or not rip jisung you’ll be missed but also bad choice to annoy a soft-for-only-my-baby chenle

Park Jisung

a bit flustered but just couldn’t refuse you when you cutely asked him with wide puppy eyes if you could sit in his lap to watch him play

probably short circuited for a good 2 minutes before he could produce and intelligible answer (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว

and that’s how you found yourself perched on his lap, facing the screen with curious eyes as jisung struggled as if his LIFE depended on it

“how do you jump?” (,Ծ_Ծ,)

“you can’t jump”

“what do you mean you can’t jump?? gravity doesn’t work like that” Σ(･ิ¬･ิ)

you’re like 2 newborn babies running wild and unsupervised

“jisung, that character looks like you when you’re constipated” (๑꒪▿꒪)*

cue cackling from the devil spawns on the other side

he’s gonna keep in mind this betrayal UNTIL THE END OF TIME beware

if you catch sight of one of his hands not working away i bet my allowance you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to hold it in yours DO IT I NEED MY ALLOWANCE DON’T BE SHY

of course he’ll automatically intertwine your fingers together and bring them up for a chaste kiss ～(^з^)-♡

and i know for sure that he won’t have the heart to let go of it even when he needs it to play sigh jisung you SIMP

he’s gonna get scolded and teased by the other later but ya know

at least he ain’t no touch starved coward ¯\(°_o)/¯

he gets grounded for that by jaemin

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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Appointment Scheduled

Summary- 2.7k Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Since that night at your parents, you haven't been to see Ransom. Not that he wasn't always on your mind. But you continue to defend your 'FWB' term that is all he is. Ransom gets tired of receiving physical silence from you.

So he made himself an appointment.

Warnings- somewhat mad mean Ransom, reader in denial of her feelings, some in the office over the desk sex. This is a cheater fic, the reader is cheating on her boyfriend and Ransom is encouraging this. Please if this bothers you, do not read it.

A/N- another self-indulgent fic featuring these two? Yes please, it's what I wanted, so it's what I wrote. As always, thank you for reading, comments and reblogging. You all have to thank @sagechanoafterdark for Ellie showing up in the story. We were talking that the reader needs a best friend who is like "Duh, you two are meant to be, it is so obvious." to our reader.

Masterlist

“Ellie no I haven't seen him since my dad's birthday party. I mean a few messages here and there, but nothing more about meeting up.”

You hear your best friend scoff on the other line. She was your confidante, your tried and true, better or worse, the bitch who will help you bury the body friend.

She also lacked sugar coating anything.

“Well, you two are just dumb. One of you has to open that line of conversation, might as well be you.”

You hit the button to the lift, sighing into the phone as you watched the numbers ding. “I don’t know what conversation you are talking about El.”

“Uh, the one where you two have been in love with each other since basically middle school? The one where whenever you feel lonely, that's the man you call? Or how about the one how he runs to you whenever you even put out a HINT that you might need him? That one Y/N.”

“We are just fuck buddies-”

“Really good, rock your world, the best sex and head you’ve ever gotten, buddy. Right?” Ellie’s tone is dripping with sarcasm now and you pinch your nose in aggravation while stepping onto the elevator.

“Exactly like that.” You go a bit quiet. “Listen, I’m at work, so talk later, okay?”

“Sure, I miss you. I wish you would move back to the city.” Ellie softened her tone a bit. “Girls weekend soon? I love you.”

“I love you too and of course!” You hit the end button and stuff it in your bag, staying quiet the rest of the ride up.

Working as a lawyer's assistant wasn’t too bad. Although it's often said couples shouldn't work together, you hardly saw Neil while you were there. He was usually in some kind of pissing match with another DA in the building, which made for some interesting rants from him when he got home.

You dutifully listened, but with little interest. They got old and boring, which was how you were feeling in this ‘safe relationship.’

Really you felt something must be fucked up with you. Neil was a good guy, supportive, he didn't have much of a jealous streak, although you wished once in a while he would get a bit riled up about when someone was checking you out when the two of you went out for a date night. Everything was stable in your relationship, aside from the fact you basically were away to Ransom's bed any chance you could.

Then there was Ransom. The man you were able to actually swear yourself off from two years straight and got your life in order.

So you thought. It took one drink and conversation to fall back to where you two were two years ago. Only this time you found him missing him while you were away, thinking about him more.

You opened your office door and propped it open for your boss's clients to come inside and wait, your boss's door opened on the other side. Shaking off your over-the-top feelings going on, you went to pour Johanna's coffee and grab the files for today's cases. She was on the phone, so you just set them down with a small wave of your hand and settled behind the desk to get started transferring her notes into the system.

Ransom though was never far from your mind when you gave your cell the occasional glance.

Lunchtime approached which meant you would meet up with Neil and head to the small cafe on the corner. He would ask you about your work, you would ask him about his. There would be pleasantries shared. You sighed once more to yourself at the thought of it.

Johanna closed her door with a sudden click. You jumped a bit in surprise as she shouldered her handbag. “You okay Dear?” The woman asked kindly and you smiled, brushing it off.

“Caught up in these files.”

“Ah, yes there is a lot with this case. Sorry about all the extra notes. I know it's a tad boring. But take your break, stay out with Neil a little extra. It's a nice day and you've earned it.” She smiled kindly.

“I will be sure to, maybe Neil and I can breeze around the park before returning.” Fat chance… you thought as you smiled kindly at your boss as she took her leave. You picked at your cell phone, working your lip about to message Neil that you would meet him when a rather loud distinctive tone filled the entryway to your and Johanna's office.

“I have a meeting lined up with Johanna Klein, if you could let her assistant know that Ransom Drysdale is here to see her.”

Dropping your cell phone, forgetting about Neil, you rise out of your seat and go to your door, peering out. Ransom is leaning against the desk to the receptionists of the lawyer's offices explaining how it was your lunchtime and you were out of the building.

Ransom’s voice was about to release, you could see him drawing in the air to make himself a bit more imposing at the idea that he wasn’t allowed to see you when his icy orbs lifted from the receptionist to you, a perfect smirk crossing those pale pink lips that could be so soft at the moment while dropping venom just as easily. “She looks like she is available to me.”

The receptionist spun her chair to see you in the doorway. “It’s okay, Johanna booked him as the last one this morning.” You lied while Ransom made his way around the desk to enter your office. The receptionist looked like she was about to say something more when you quickly clicked the door closed and pulled the shade over the frosted glass to keep from anyone seeing the two of you in there.

“What are you doing here Ransom?” You ask yet again, while he was leaning against the desk with his arms folded over his chest.

“I have an appointment. Seems it's the only way to properly see you again.” He pushed up the sleeves of his long sleeves over muscled forearms. You being you, was absolutely unable to take your eyes off that action.

“Well, I’ve been busy and you never made mention of it again.”

“Kitten…” His tone lowered with a warning. “I didn't think I had to imply that you could come over whenever. But if I'm going to have to do it this way from now on.” He pushed off the desk to stalk the small space to you. “Guess that's what I will do. Book my appointments between-” a slight snarl darkened his face, the crease between his eyes deepening as his hand rested in your lower back and pushed you closer to him.

Overwhelmingly closer. His muscles through the shirt flexed under your hands coming to rest on his pecs and his cologne made your mouth water with the familiarity. The scent of bergamot and cedar gave an almost smoky scent, a touch of sweetness with vanilla had you inching closer to Ransom. “- your time with Neil.”

Your eyes flashed angrily at him then, pulling back a bit in his hold. “What does it matter to you, Ransom?”

“It doesn't. Like I told you before Kitten, you and I will never be over.”

“Feels a lot like jealousy to me then.” You spat a bit. “Since we're just this.” You shrugged a bit, now your temper is getting the best of you. “What was it that Ellie said to me this morning. Fuck buddies.”

“Your term, not mine Kitten.” Ransom yanked you in close again, this time his kiss was a lot different than that night in your bedroom. It was harsh and demanding, forcing you to open your mouth to him and swallow his passion. “You know fucking Neil is skating on thin ice, keeping you all the time.” He shoved you roughly against your desk, your hands flying to the paperwork you were working on before and it went flying for the most part. Some of it fisted in your hand as your ass arched out and pressed against Ransom's groin, making you hiss when he jerked your hips further back.

“Neil is technically my-” You started when a hand slapped over your mouth, fingers digging into your cheeks roughly.

All of it was turning you on, making your thighs squeeze together and you breathe harshly through your nose the more excited you got. “Don’t say it Kitten. Not right now, this is my time. Remember. I made an appointment.”

You felt your skirt get rucked up around your hips and Ransom leaned over, his chest pressing into your back as he flushed hot kisses on your neck, a yank to your shirt dragged your shirt over your shoulder. It wasn't gentle kisses, it was deep leave his mark there that was making you tilt your head and push back into him once more while he fumbled with his own pants to yank them open.

“Yes, yes your appointment. Did you miss this pussy?” You purred, mimicking the nickname you had earned. His fingers pushed aside the bit of cotton that was now sticky clinging to your folds and he stroked you with precision, spreading your slick all around till he swirled a finger against your clit.

“Enough to come searching your ass out.” He remarked when you felt his cock take over where his fingers were, thicker, velvet hardness in your soft folds make you mewl while gripping your desk's edge.

It was the right call, as soon as Ransom felt you start to take him, he pressed harder. Making you both hiss, your head falling against your desk as he stretched you open, his cock filling you quickly. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, registering the sting of it when he rutted into you, slamming your hips into the desk suddenly. “Fuck Ransom,” You hissed out and bit your lip to stifle a moan.

“This perfect round ass that is so fuckable.” His hand came against a cheek while his hips slammed into you steadily. Jerking you on the desk. But it all felt so good, the stink of the slap making you tighten around his cock while you gave a yelp in protest.

Again his hand came around your mouth, stuffing fingers in your mouth which you wrapped your lips around and sucked on them, making your eyes roll when you tasted yourself on them. “Shut it Kitten, suck yourself off me like a good girl while I fill this perfect cunt.” Ransom snapped his teeth near your ear. You moaned, trying to confirm that you would, you would do just as he said while he fucked you harshly from behind.

It clouded your mind, forgetting everything you had been stressed about all morning. Ransom's cock pounded into your wanting body like it was all you ever needed. Your smooth walls flexed around him, tightening till you felt the throbbing ridges that dragged and pulled through you.

It wasn't just his cock driving you mindless. It was the grunted words in your ear. “Perfect little clock slut, Kitten you love getting fucked on your desk don’t you?” He hissed in your ear as another drive made you moan incoherent at him. “Just so cock drunk slut, who is too stupid to answer me.” A tongue was dragged on your tongue, kisses right at the hinge of your jaw made you whine and press back against him. He knew that it drove you crazy to feel the flush of his lips along your neck, driving you mindless. “Just my sweet little Kitten taking it so well.”

All you could do was mewl around his fingers stuffed in your mouth, drool escaping from the corners of your stretched lips and dribbling on the paperwork you had crumpled in your fists. Your chest pressed harshly against the desk, making you wheeze under Ransom’s weight. It was smothering, him all over caging you against the furniture, pumping his cock harshly into your core and your mouth stuffed with his fingers keeping you quiet.

It was too much and not enough, cause you still weren't quite there. The heat burned in your belly, wanting to implode you into oblivion. Ransom gritted his teeth as he wedged a hand under you, fingers feeling for your throbbing clit that ached for his touch.

The roll of his fingers made you moan at the tension. The rush made your spine snap and fight against Ransom, which he felt as you squealed in protest, his teeth snapping near you while he sputtered.

“Just fucking cum Kitten, then you can relax. Your boss will be back any time now.” Nearby you glanced at your phone that somehow was still on the table, the time wavering in your sight, as well as some ‘Where are you?’ texts from Neil.

Ransom wanted you to relax and cum, which is what you wanted as well. The numbing release was right there with his help and you let go. The wave was mind blanking. You sagged under Ransom, and he tightened his hold on you as he used you. But you were in bliss as he grunted over you, hot shots of cum filling you while he sagged in relief against you.

Jerks of his cock still quivered your sensitive walls as he took a few last slow pumps into you before he plated his hands against your messy desk and pulled himself up, pulling out of your messy cunt.

“Gonna have to go the rest of the day like that Kitten.” He chuckled as he straightened your panties back in place and pulled your skirt down over your ass. His hand went around your waist and he helped guide you back to a stand to face him. Brushes of his thumbs over your face was an attempt to fix your makeup which made you wince while you rubbed the drool from your chin.

“How bad is it?”

Ransom winced when you asked. “Pretty bad… looks like you've been crying… or got properly fucked. Take your pick.” He said as his hands dropped to pull his pants back in place and zip them back up, the button going back through the loop.

It was unfair that Ransom didn't get completely ruined like you did when this sort of thing happened. You rushed around your desk to grab some wet wipes to wipe the smudged lipstick and mascara off.

‘You know… I never have this problem with Neil.” You muttered and Ransom snapped back as he watched you, leaning down to pick up some of the papers that fell and shuffle them together while you did a quick reapplication so no one would question it.

“Kitten, obviously the man isn't fucking you right then.” A smirk flashed up at you as he handed you your papers and you were quick to tuck them away.

You broke into a small dirty smile, a roll of your eyes playing with him. “Well… you are correct in that Ransom. Now split, Johanna will be back soon.”

“Nope." A pop of the p that made you huff at him. "I have an appointment Y/N.” He swept down into a seat just as Johanna clicked open the door and stepped back in.

“Y/N, did you have a good lunch? I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. But I was told my next client is here.” She glanced towards the corner of the room where Ransom was picking at his sweater. “Mr. Drysdale, come on in with me, please? We will get started.” She smiled warmly as she went around your desk to let herself into her office, Ransom moving to a stand with a chipper.

“Absolutely, thrilled to get started. Y/N here has been a perfect host in the meantime.” He winked at you with a light brush of his fingers along your arm before disappearing into Johanna’s office, the door shutting behind them.

You could only begin to guess what Ransom was up to coming all the way here. Which you would find out later, either from Ransom or Johanna.

Right now you had to deal with standing up Neil, which when you picked up your phone, chewing your lip that you still could taste yourself on from Ransom’s fingers, you read the message.

Y/N, where are you? I have been waiting for an hour for you.

You started to text out your lie of an excuse hoping that this wouldn't be the day it would all blow up in your face.

#ransom drysdale au #ransom drysdale and reader #ransom drysdale x kitten #ransom drysdale fan fiction #knives out au #knives out fanfiction #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #amber writes #sweater writes #chris evans characters #chris evans characters fanfiction #tw cheating fic

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sevendeadlymorons · 3 years

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hello! can i request for the brother and undateables (if you don’t want simeon is just okay) headcanons for seeing mc sketches book and mc drew some positions with them? thank you! (sorry if i bothered you and my english is not will)

Sorry for the delay in writing your request, i really like this idea and I will get right on it for you :)

You absolutely did not bother me whatsoever and your English was great btw x

Brothers + Undateables Reaction to Seeing MC’s Sketchbook

——————————————————

Lucifer

Saw it lying on your desk when he came in to clean your room

He was never one to pry but he eventually found himself flicking through the pages of the book

Each page was filled with sketches of flowers or scenery or the cats that wander outside the house

He was so intrigued by these intricate drawings of yours, finding himself rather impressed by the skill you had

Around about the end, he notices sketches of his brothers, each in particular poses, drawn in such beautiful detail

He smiles to himself as he continues to flick through multiple pages of Asmo, not really surprised that he’s the main model of your drawings

That’s when he came across one of him

It was him sitting down in his study, enjoying the sound of one of his records. He didn’t even know you drew him.

It looked so real, like it was a photo. The way the shading was so perfect and how you drew his small smile so delicately. Incredible.

He was so taken back, he had to see more

Walks past you in the corridor with your sketchbook behind his back

I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for a little while

Mammon

Bust into your room to tell you about this massive loss he had gambling again but you weren’t there

He looked around but all he could find was a singular book lay open on your bed

One peek couldn’t hurt, he thought, already flicking through the contents of the book

His eyes widen as he saw more and more of your art, each drawing so filled with detail

Since when was his human so talented, and when were they planning on telling him?

He kept flicking through until he saw his brothers in several different poses

He felt kind of hurt that you’d never asked him to model for you before

Each page that went by, the more impressed he was

This has gotta be worth a lot with how incredible these drawings are

Suddenly, he reached one of him. He was surprised since you’ve never asked him to model for you so when did you draw this?

It was him smiling while counting his money in his room. He didn’t want to know how you got this to be honest

But he was amazed by the detail put in. The amount of time you must have put into this makes his cheeks blush like crazy at the thought of you drawing something so time consuming for him

He ran out, notebook to chest, flicking through the pages with a goofy smile on his face in his room

Leviathan

Didn’t mean to snoop, just casually found it open on your desk so how could he resist...

His jaw dropped as he flicked through, admiring the never ending sketches of scenery or animals

Literally woooaaahhh’s in his head after looking at each drawing

Gets to his brothers drawings and he’s amazed

You can draw realistic too??!

His mind is running wild at the thought of you drawing all his favourite anime characters

Wonders if there’s any of him but he can’t remember you asking him to pose for any so he gets sorta upset

Who’d want to draw a yucky otaku like him anyway

Continues to flick through, still trying to get over how good the one before was until he sees the one on the next page and he’s starting all over again

In complete awe at how incredible they all were, each detail perfect and the facial features were sharp and precise every single time

Onto the next page and he felt his heart beat out of his chest. No way, could it be...

It was a drawing of him, focused on his game with this concentrated look on his face. When did you even draw that?! He feels his entire face burning up as he stares at himself. You drew him so well...

Clutches the book to his chest, very very close to tears, and runs off to find you to ask you to draw him and Ruri-Chan

Satan

Walks past and sees you drawing in this little book so peeps over your shoulder to see what you were doing

He’s overcome with surprise as he stares at your beautiful drawing of the flower that was sitting on the table in front of you

He crosses his arms on top of your head and laughs as you jump out of your seat, holding the notebook tightly to your chest

He apologise for snooping but tells you how incredible he thinks your art is, watching your face closely as it turns red

He asks if he can see more as your current drawing had intrigued him, and held out his hand to you

You hesitate but happily hand it over, sitting back down and patting the seat next to you

You watch as he flicks through, his eyebrows raising every few times, then looking over and flashing you a smile

Why didn’t he know about this? These drawings were incredible

He especially liked the drawings of the stray cats outside, as his face lit up, pointing and telling you the names of the ones you drew

When he got to his brothers, he couldn’t help but be massively impressive at the intricate detail you put into them as well as the unique poses you put them in to

He doesn’t remember you asking him to pose for anything but he continues to flick through, hopeful

As he flick the page, he comes face to face with a drawing of him. His eyes widen as he scans over the drawing of him holding a book between his fingers as his face looking tranquil and calm.

He looks over at you who had a nervous face, obviously trying to figure out if he liked it or not, to which he smiles widely and tells you he’ll be borrowing it as he’d really like to see more

Asmodeus

You left a book in his room after he’d finished paining your nails

He went to go return it to you when he felt the sudden urge to take a peek inside before hand

Maybe it’s something erotic, he thinks, as he begins to open the book on his bed

When he first sees your drawings, it’s so much better than anything erotic he’s ever seen

His lips twist into a sweet smile as he flicks through the book, his hand resting on his chin, making small humming noises every few seconds

He never knew you were an artist!

The drawings of his brothers were beautiful and he felt sorta jealous that he hasn’t seen a single one of him yet

He desperately turned page after page, searching for drawings of him

At the final page, he finally saw himself. He was speechless as he stares at the incredibly drawn masterpiece of him.

It was of him sitting sweetly on the couch, looking at his freshly paint nails with delight, the drawing perfectly capturing the mood of the moment

He squeals as he hugs the book to his chest as if it was his prized possession

He goes running after you to ask if he could model for more of your art as it was love at first sight

Beelzebub

On his daily snoop around in your room for snacks when he saw a small notebook on your desk

He didn’t want to invade your privacy but he was just too tempted, one peek wouldn’t hurt

He opened it and was greeted by your incredible art. He stopped eating and stared at it, completely in shock at how good they were

He kept flicking through all your little quick draws. Flowers, animals and food. He especially liked those ones

When he came across his brothers, all in these complex poses, he smiled wide and began flicking through to find him, quite excited to see what you drew for him

He went past Belphie’s and a sweet smile spread across his face as he imagined you trying to keep him awake so you could draw him

He kept flipping through but there was still no sign of him. He felt sorta left out at that thought but kept on going through hopefully

Finally, on the very last page, was a drawing of him. It wasn’t like any of his brothers tho, it was him completely in his zone

He had a burger in his hand and was going in to bite down on it, a grin plastered on his lips as the perfect detail showed joy in his eyes

He stares on, wide eyed. This was amazing. He wanted to keep it and store it somewhere so he could look at it forever

Picks up the book to go find you, wandering around like an excited puppy

He was going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever experienced

Belphegor

Was asleep on the sofa opposite you when the sound of a pencil sketching on a piece of paper woke him up, so he opens his eyes and begins to sit up, rubbing his eyes and looking towards where the sound was coming from

Immediately sees you drawing away into a book, to which he raises his eyebrow and walks behinds you to take a peek

You didn’t seem to notice him getting up as you were completely focused on your sketch so he looks over your shoulder to see a sketch of... him.

Were you just drawing him sleeping?

Thought it was sorta cute actually

He admired how you delicately put in extra minor details that made the drawing look so realistic to him

He couldn’t take his eyes off it, your drawing was incredible

And you drew him lookin good too

You felt something tickle your neck so you turned around quickly to see Belphie peering over your shoulder, staring straight at your art, a big smile plastered on his smug face

Your face burns up in embarrassment as you realise he saw you drawing him sleeping but he just responds with a small laugh and a pat on the head as he jumps over the couch to sit next to you, offering out his hand in a way of saying “let me see”

He flicks through all your nature sketches and the ones of him and Beel, not really bothering about his other brothers, a persistent smile on his lips and a hand glued to your thigh

He was impressed, but surprised he never knew. He really wanted to take it so he could look at it more

So he did just that. Stood up, sketchbook in hand, straight towards the attic to binge through every single drawing in there

Diavolo

You came over to him and asked him to hold your book while you went to go do something, to which he agreed and carried on with his work

He kept eying it on the desk next to him. He’s never been one to snoop, but he couldn’t help but look at it

He flicked through the pages, each one filled to the brim with sketches, doodles and beautiful portraits

He couldn’t believe his eyes, you drew these?

The artwork was captivating, so stunning and detailed with each one he flipped through

He chose well when he picked you to be his exchange student, so talented

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you putting the brothers into these poses and making them sit still for hours while you drew them

He found that a smile appeared on his face as he looked at all the antics the brothers get into which you skilfully drew to savour the moment

That’s when he found himself. Sat graciously on his throne with a huge grin on his face. The detail so incredible it looked almost real. His jaw dropping slightly at the mere sight of it

When was this drawn?

But he didn’t care, he was smiling giddily at it. Honoured you’d spend your personal time drawing him

He knows who his next royal artist is going to be

Barbatos

Diavolo had a little party organised for you and the brothers and when he saw you enter with a book lodged under your arm, he was rather intrigued

Watches as you walk out mid way through the event to an empty room, book still in hand, and so he decides to follow you in case you wanted company

Walks in to see you, pencil in hand, scribbling away at the book

He sits next to you and you jump, startled at his sudden presence

He asks what it is you’re doing and stares down at your open book, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise at your art work

Your face flushes pink as he offers out his hand, asking to see more. You nod and hand it over to him, watching him flick through the pages

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Your art was excellent and so detailed. Even the small sketches were near perfection

He looks over at you and flashes you a small genuine smile of delight

When he sees the drawings of the brothers, he chuckles and compliments you on how well drawn they are

When he turned the next page, he didn’t expect to see himself though

He was sat cross legged with a cup of tea in his fingers, his face visibly delighted

He clears his throat in surprise, hiding the obvious grin on his lips, and hands it back to you, giving you a small pat on the shoulder as he exits the room

He was amazed. He’ll be mentioning this to Diavolo for sure

Simeon

You honestly come to the angel whenever you need peace from the brothers, so he’s seen you sketching away in that little pad of yours several times, but never actually seen what’s inside of it

One day, you got up to go get something and asked him to look after the book for you, to which he nodded and held the book in his lap

Now... Simeon never snoops, but looking down at your sketchbook, curiosity took over him

He opened it and lay it on his lap, staring down at the multiple little drawings you had scattered on one page

He smiles and turns to the next page, once again greeted by more of your amazing drawings of cats, birds, trees, followers and the House of Lamentation

He keeps turning the page, drawing after drawing, each one seemingly getting better than the last

When he saw the little drawing of Luke he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sweet he looked. He’d have to ask you if he could keep it later

Then he saw the brothers and he admired how well you drew them all, each detail drawn to perfection. He most enjoyed their demon forms and how beautiful they all looked

As soon as he flicked to a drawing of him, he stopped in his tracks, staring down at your sketch in disbelief

He didn’t care too much about when you drew it, all he cared about was how astonishing you made him look

He was stood with his hand on his hip, a small smile displayed on his face as his cloak carefully draped around his arms

He put the book back before you re-entered the room. He’ll ask you if he could take another look later

Solomon

Couldn’t help but notice you sketching something in class, since you share a lot of them together and it happens almost every lesson

He doesn’t really care at first but when he finds it laying on the table after you’d forgotten it, he couldn’t help but look

First couple of pages were filled with small sketches and he was pretty impressed. He does a bit of doodling and draws his summoning circles himself so looking at your art was pretty intriguing to him

When he sees the drawing of the brothers, he realises you’ve actually got a hell of a talent for drawing

He decides to go find you and return it, but he’ll keep flicking through as he walks, because he’d really like to see more

As he’s walking and flicking through, a smile begins to form on his face as he sees sketches of Luke and Simeon having a tea party together, something he knew went on weekly with the 3 of you

He stops walking as he stumbles across something he never expected to see

It was him, practising his spells with a focused look on his face

He has absolutely no clue when you drew you and honestly, slightly creeped out

Ignores it though since the drawing of him came out pretty good and the details you put on his face were incredibly done. He felt himself blush slightly at the fact you actually took the time to draw him

Eventually found you and yelled out your name, waving the sketchbook in his hand as he watched you rush over, your cheeks burning red as you cover your face. He smiles sweetly as he walks off

This guy couldn’t get any more sketchy even if he tried

Luke

Simeon needed to talk to Lucifer, so he brought Luke along since he was bored. He started wandered the house when those two began talking about things he didn’t understand.

He reaches your room and knocks on the door, but there was no answer, so he let himself in

Kid can’t keep his hands to himself, he’s touchin everything he sees. So when he sees a book on your desk, he can’t help himself

Sits on your bed and opens it, his eyes widening as he’s greeted by several incredible sketches

He’s having the time of his life flicking through them all, going through flower after flower, the stray cats he sees outside the house and of course, the demons

He thought all the drawings were the coolest things he’s ever seen in his life

He had to show Simeon

He was about to go running to show him when one of them caught his eye. It was a drawing of him?

He was stood on a stool baking his cakes. The intricate details standing out, making him gawk in awe. He didn’t know when you drew this, but he didn’t care. You made him look amazing

The drawing of him made his eyes tear up, he was so so happy that you drew him

Wiped his eyes and clung to the book, running into the room where Simeon was so he could show him your beautiful drawings too

This was so damn fun to write, but fuck did it take days to do :,)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me dateables

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artist-tae · 3 years

Text

fate (jungkook x fem!reader)

Summary: You and your tattoo ex Jeon Jungkook have been broken up for the past 2 years. But what happens he enters your life again when you just have gotten over him?

Pairing: jungkook x reader, reader x jimin

Genre: angsty af, tattoo artist Jungkook, eventual smut (?), break up!au

Words: 2.6k

Chapter 5/6 (1) (2) (3) (4)

The empty silence of your room was dreadful. Your head was spinning from you overthinking and you could not relax all day. You sat on your bed staring at the wall, deep in thought. Visions of Jungkook filled your mind and you couldn’t get him out of your head. It was almost pathetic at this point. You gazed into space wondering what your options were. It was time for you to move on.

"_______?"

Jimin’s words snapped you out of your spiralling thoughts. You didn’t even notice him entering the room. He stood next to you at the end of your bed, looking down at you as you sat. You felt guilty even looking at his face.

"I was wondering if you wanted some food?" he asked with concern. He had just found you in your room, staring at a blank wall, ignoring him calling out for you.

"Thanks Jimin, but I think I’m alright for now," you responded, trying your best to form a smile.

Jimin raised his eyebrows at you. He knew when you were tense or had your mind on something. It made it hard to keep anything a secret from him. He could read you like a book at this point.

"You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you. I don’t want you to suffer alone with your big head full of thoughts. " He joked, reaching his hand up and ruffling your hair.

You laughed at his actions, pulling his hand away from your head.

"Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I’m just tired these days", you explained to him.

Another lie, Jimin thought. He decided he wasn’t going to force it out of you. He was also afraid that he already knew who you were thinking about.

You watched as Jimin’s mouth turned into a smirk. You shot him a confused look. Suddenly, you felt his two hands rest on your knees. He leaned his frame over you, causing you to lean back. His face was barely inches from yours. His eyes scanned your entire face, entranced by your beauty.

"How about I make us some dinner tonight?" he whispered, "Just me and you."

Jimin knew how to cook, and his dishes always left your mouth watering for more. You smiled back at him; the idea of a nice home cooked meal was perfect for you.

"I would love that."

He smiled back at you. You notice his eyes dart to your lips. Suddenly, your body froze at this. Jimin had his eyes shut and he was leaning in. Panic spread throughout your body. Before he could connect his lips with yours, you held his shoulder to keep him in place. Jimin opened his eyes and shot you a questionable look.

"I think I need some fresh air," was all you could think to say. You cringed at how pathetic your choice of words was.

Jimin, on the other hand, being the gentleman that he was, nodded and stood up straight again, allowing you to finally catch your breath. You immediately stood up, straightened up, and walked over to get your keys and coat. As you were about to walk out of the room, Jimin’s hand grabbed your wrist gently.

"He’s not worth it, you know." Jimin stated.

Jimin’s features were now dark and full of pity for you. You were lost for words at how blunt he was.

"What?"

"That guy, he couldn’t treat you with the love you deserve. If he is destroying you, then it is not love, ______. "

The silence you both stood in was filled with tension. You didn’t dare break it for fear that something would go wrong. You gave a slight nod to Jimin before turning and heading out of the house.

You jumped in your car and put it in the ignition. You pressed your head against the wheel of the car in frustration. Your head was spinning with stress. Jimin’s words were echoing in your head as you drove away from your house. You knew he was right. Jungkook coming back into your life was doing more harm than good. Jimin was only watching out for you.

You needed answers.

Before you even realised what you were doing, your car was already pulling into Jungkook’s home. You wasted no time in leaving the car and walking up to the front door. You knew if you sat and overthought the whole situation, you would just turn around and leave. You gave one last sigh and pressed the doorbell to the house.

It felt like an eternity had passed before you heard the sound of the door unlocking. A dishevelled Jungkook opened the door. His eyes widened seeing you standing at his doorstep so unexpected. You noted Jungkook dressed in gym shorts and a loose tank top, exposing all his tattoos from his arms down to his legs. The silence between you two suggested that Jungkook wasn’t planning on greeting you.

"Can we talk?"

Jungkook’s face was still emotionless as he processed your words. Finally, he jerked his head, motioning you to come inside, holding the door open for you. You walked past him entering his house. You caught the smell of cigarettes in the air as he directed you to his bedroom.

Piles of drawings were strewn across his desk and on the floor in his room. Some were crumpled up in or near the trash can. You noticed the ashtray on his desk, from which smoke was rising from a glowing cigarette. You obviously caught him during his creative hours, when he was sketching up new tattoo designs for his clients. Jungkook took a seat at the foot of his bed. You made the decision to continue standing.

“What are you working on?", you asked.

"Just some doddles for work.", was all he replied. He stared down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.

You could easily tell he was uneasy with you being here so suddenly.

"It looks really good. Your drawing skills have improved a lot. "

"Why are you here _____?", his eyes finally shot up to look at you. He had a look of displeasure.

You began to fidget with your fingers. Jungkook knew that you only did this when you were nervous.

"I need to know" you explained, "Why did you kiss me?"

Jungkook let out a cynical scoff. "Why did I kiss you? Isn’t it obvious _____? "

"But I need to know why you did it when you know I am with Jimin."

Jungkook’s arm muscles tensed up at the sound of his name. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair in annoyance.

"Why aren’t you with him then, huh? Why did you come all the way to my house just to ask me about kissing you? ", he hissed at you.

Your nervousness turned to anger. Why does Jungkook think he has the right to be mad at you when this was all his fault?

"Stop avoiding the question." You said harshly, "Tell me why you did it."

Jungkook was now stood up towering over your frame in rage.

"Maybe it’s because I finally got to see you after all these years after you chose to dump me out of nowhere!"

You were speechless at his words. Jungkook's face morphed from anger into defeat. His shoulders were slouched down, and his eyes were now watering.

"Think about it ______. We were perfect. Everything was going so well. We were going so well. But you had to end things with me to go halfway across the country. I know you did it for school. But did you ever stop to think about how it would affect me? You left me alone. It was like you were never even there. "

Jungkook choked up a sob.

"You were all that I had _____."

The lump in your throat was growing as you saw the tears stream down his face.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about the life we could have had." He said, sniffling.

"You knew how much I loved you, Jungkook." you said, fighting the tears.

Jungkook rubbed his eyes at your words. "Loved" he laughed dryly.

"We were just kids. I had to move on," you explained," And you know you must do the same. It’s not healthy. "

I can’t just move on like you ______ ", he shot back," You are ignoring everything that we had! "

You broke eye contact with him as the tears started to fall down your face. It was no good to talk to him.

He suddenly stepped towards you and faced your body. You could feel his breath on you as he spoke.

"Tell me you don’t love me."

"Jungkook", you pleaded, "Stop."

"Please ______, I’ll leave you alone."

You were now sobbing at his words. You felt his hands touch your shoulders as you tried to calm down.

"Jungkook, you know I am not", you confessed. You shook your head profusely, burying your head in his chest.

"Then let us just be together, ______! Just say I do, and we can go back to normal. It will be like nothing ever happened. I will treat you like a princess, I promise. "

"This is normal now! It’s been so long. I can’t leave Jimin, he has done so much for me. "

Jungkook leaned his face into yours and you felt the breath of his lips near yours.

You quickly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back.

"No Jungkook, not again." You knew if you kissed him it would make everything a hundred times worse than it already was.

Jungkook was defeated. He now knew his efforts were entirely useless. It was always going to be Jimin. He must have known that all along, right?

Jungkook stepped away from you and the air was suddenly colder than before. Jungkook turned away from you and stared out his window. The room was just filled with the sounds of you and Jungkook sniffling.

"Jungkook please say something to me." You spoke up.

"I have nothing more to say. Please just go ______. " He continued to stare out the window, not daring to look at you.

Knifes were digging into your heart at his words. This was how it was finally going to end.

"I leave tomorrow. I won’t be coming back. I will be out of your sight _______. You will never have to see me again. " He explained.

You were choked up as he spoke, and your head was pounding with pain. You just wanted to hug him and reassure him that everything would be fine. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth, so silence filled the gap between you two. You stared at your feet as you walked defeatedly out of his house and into your car.

You drove in silence. But you could not help but look in your rear-view mirror, hoping that just maybe Jungkook would chase after you. But no one was there. You had to pull into a random spot to cry before heading home. You sobbed, hugging your knees to your chest as the realisation hit you. Jungkook was gone forever. He will now be known as a distant memory.

You chose not to tell Jimin about your eventful visit to Jungkook’s house. You knew he wouldn’t approve of it and you didn’t want to spend more time thinking about it.

Later in the evening, you received a text from Jimin to dress up more formally than usual. The text also informed you that you were banned from the kitchen until Jimin said so. You then remembered the dinner Jimin planned for you and him.

When you finally got a text stating that the kitchen was now open for dining, you made your way out of your room in your elegant dress. Jimin had lit candles all over the kitchen and your casual kitchen table was decorated with flowers. The light sound of relaxing music aided the ambience. Your jaw dropped at his efforts. He always went above and beyond for these things.

"Dinner for two?"

You turned around to see Jimin in his fancy black suit, a bottle of wine being held in his hand. A smile plastered your face at his efforts.

"Let’s eat!" You said thrilled.

Jimin's meal was delicious. It was a big difference from takeaways and instant noodles. As you two ate, your hands grazed each other’s across the table. You had your plate cleared before you even knew it. Jimin kept the conversation engaging and fun. He knew it would help you take your mind off your problems. The wine was also a big help to you. The alcohol in your system allowed you to relax throughout the night. Jimin’s silly jokes were able to be more funny than they actually were, leaving you laughing at his stupid puns.

Jimin then began to ramble about ball dancing as you continued to laugh at his humorous tangents. He began to explain to you in detail the elegance of ballroom dancing.

"It's easy, I’ll show you." He suddenly said, jumping out of his chair.

Jimin marched over to the stereo and fumbled with it until it reached some classical radio station. The kitchen was filled with a gentle orchestra song. Jimin began to stupidly sway back over to you. Jimin held out his hand to you as an invitation to dance.

You gladly accepted and placed your hand in his. He immediately pulled you into him and began to lead you in a dance. You could easily smell his cologne as you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other hand still interlocked in his. Your drunken body wasn’t able to keep up with the intricate steps of the dance, but Jimin seemed to have experience of this. The music and being so close to him felt so intimate.

He slowly dipped you, still holding you close. The gesture and his face being so close to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He made note of all the perfections in your face as you giggled drunkenly at his actions.

"I love you _____"

Your giggling was suddenly halted by his words. His eyes stared deeply into your pupils.

"I have never felt this way about anyone before." He stated.

You felt his hand moving to cup your face. His thumb lightly brushed along your cheek.

"I want to be with you. I am tired of holding it in anymore. "

He used his hand on your waist to pull you closer to him. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You beamed up at his face, he was so romantic. Both your eyes travelled down to each other’s lips. Jimin gave you one last glance into your eyes, almost as if he were asking for your permission. You smiled reassuringly at him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He finally leant in and pressed his lips on you. You kissed him back with such passion. Your hands made their way into his hair, tugging at it slightly. Jimin sighed into the kiss and deepened the kiss. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to take all your pain away.

He finally pulled away from you. You caught your breath as he cupped your face with both his hands.

"Let’s leave this place ______. We can go somewhere new where we can be together. Just you and me. "

280 notes · View notes

minhyuuk · 2 years

Text

terms & conditions // demon!minhyuk

⇀ genre: fluff, demon!au, small amounts of angst

⇀ word count: 2.5k

⇀ tw: lonely thoughts

⇀ summary: It was only supposed to be for fun, but what happens when you summon a demon for help and one actually shows up?

“Maybe I have to say the chant in Latin?”

The plastic down arrow clicked, the Wikipedia page flying from end to end until the dead language came into sight.

“How do you even pronounce this? Wait, maybe I should sit up…”

You untucked your legs and sat up straight on your bed, smoothing out the covers of the duvet. Fixing your laptop squarely in the middle of everything, you zoomed in, squinting your eyes over each letter while sounding them out.

“Here goes nothing…”

…

Silence.

Maybe you needed to draw a pentagram, add some candles…? You didn’t have time to make a show of summoning a demon. It was a last resort and frankly, one you thought was stupid and useless but that’s why you went for it.

When nothing happened aside from the pile of dirty laundry falling from your desk chair in the corner, you gave up. It was almost midnight and your assignment was due tomorrow at noon. Add summoning a demon to your list of failed tasks and your homework would follow shortly.

Your back crashed into the pillows, the light from your phone blinding your eyes in contrast to the darkness of your room. Patting up against the screen to scroll through TikToks until you got bored, time flew and you grew tired of the videos and endless switching between apps. No notifications, no messages, nothing.

You dropped the phone on your chest, eyes forming to the darkness as you huffed in frustration. You couldn’t even summon a demon right, no wonder you didn’t have any friends…

...

“It’s almost 1, you might want to finish that essay?”

When a voice that wasn’t your own broke the silence, you jumped. You looked everywhere, trying to find a shape in the darkness. There was a distinct silhouette sitting in your desk chair, shoulders square and alert. You pressed around the plush comforter quickly to feel for the hardness of your phone in order to call the police.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

“You summoned me. I am a little late, but not long enough for HR to complain about. Good thing for you though, we just started doing house calls again.”

What was he saying? HR? Nothing was making sense. Rather than open up the phone dial, you swiped up to your flashlight, twisting the phone to the desk chair as soon as it illuminated. You would be safer if you could see where the intruder was.

...

“You summoned a demon, didn’t you?”

In the seat was a beautiful man dressed in an all black suit, his legs crossed and face blank. The metal squeaked as he swiveled in the chair, looking around the room.

“That was just a joke, I didn’t mean it seriously. Who are you? How did you get in here? How long have you been there?”

Standing up and reaching for anything looking remotely like a weapon--which ended up being a stick lighter for your candles--the demon held his hands up in defeat.

“I’m not here to hurt you, you called me. My name is Minhyuk, I’m a demon. You did chant, didn’t you?”

“...Well, yeah I guess, but- demons aren’t real. You snuck into my room.”

“Nope, you summoned me. We don’t have paid time off in hell or medical leave, so please lower the lighter.”

When he snapped his fingers, the flame extinguished. Even with a few desperate clicks, it was faulty. Minhyuk’s hands fell, tugging the cord on your dresser lamp as they did. Now the entire room came into focus, he remained in the chair. But you weren’t so calm, you stood defensively.

“Now, if you didn’t mean to actually summon me, can I leave? I have other house calls to make and we’re short on time.”

You cleared your throat, “If you are an actual demon then...I did mean to summon you.”

Minhyuk’s eyebrows rose expectantly.

“I needed to summon a demon because...I h- … I have no friends.”

Blinking once, twice, Minhyuk let out a long sigh and leaned onto his palms, digesting the information.

“You summoned a demon because you have no friends. Okay...well, I’ve had worse calls. What time is it?” flipping a wrist up to reveal his expensive looking watch, he inhaled through his teeth at the digits, “Yeah, I’ve got time.”

After you refused his offer to sit, Minhyuk gave up and moved on.

“Let’s get right to the point. Why don’t you have friends?”

“I don’t know...maybe because I’m shy? What about you, do you have friends? You don’t even look like a demon. Where are your horns and tail?” Your shoulders rose and fell in uncertainty, not exactly knowing how this was supposed to help.

The chair creaked again, the demon making himself comfortable in the room.

“Defensive, much? First, horns and tails are old school. Second, I would call them coworkers, demons don’t really have the privilege of making friends. We’re overworked and now with these housecalls I barely have any time to get my suits pressed, let alone make friends. It’s hell.”

“...Was that intentional?”

“Always.”

Minhyuk smiled at his wittiness and you realized you couldn’t turn back, you signed up for this. Not sensing any real hostility, you leaned against the foot of your bed, “So...how old are you?”

“Two hundred and ninety-seven years. Coming up on the big 300! At least we still celebrate something. Eternal damnation makes for a great weekend binge.”

Demons...got drunk?

“Can I ask you why you’re in hell? Did you apply for the position or were you demoted?”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened in laughter, “Good one! But actually, according to our contracts we’re not allowed to discuss those things during house calls. Our goal is to meet the customers needs, we representatives have to remain a little more...discrete.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“And the big man himself, does he still make house calls? People still summon Satan, don’t they?”

“They do, but he saves time in his schedule for bigger things. Exorcisms, cult cameos, the usual.”

Usual...as if exorcisms were just typical Tuesdays in hell.

Everything about the demon--Minhyuk, you forgot he had a name--was dark. His suit, his eyes, his hair. His attitude. All dark but all beautiful. His charm was intoxicating, and if you knew anything about sin, it was always alluring. It was their intention.

A quiet moment passed. You settled back onto your bed and looked at the open file on your laptop, the line flickering where your essay should have been. But the demon sitting in your desk chair kept you from focusing, his presence filling the entire room. Since he did answer your call, honesty might be a good start.

“You know, I guess I don’t mind not having friends. I don’t have to make plans with anyone or like...catch up with anyone, I don’t have to react to their Instagram photos or answer their Snapchat streaks. But when I want to go get food at a restaurant, sometimes it’s awkward to go alone.”

Your eyes followed the familiar pattern stitched on your rug, an infinite connection of dark purple circles overlapping each other. Whenever you got lost staring at it, that’s when the moments of realization hit. How much free time you had, how many messages or calls you weren’t receiving. Not being able to share your interests with others was one of the hardest things. Loneliness crept up on you and then lunged, the empty feeling akin to a brick wall.

There was an unmistakable pity smile on Minhyuk’s face as he listened, “Don’t get too worked up,” straightening his vest, the demon stood and crossed the purple carpet over to rest a hand on your shoulder comfortably. “Becoming friends with strangers is a skill that takes time to master. Small talk will become your best friend. Maybe you can discuss your hobbies. ‘Hey! I also like basketball!’ or ‘Yes, I am also an avid collector of,” his eyes squinted around your room, “penguin stuffed animals!’ What hobbies do you have? Go ahead, let’s roleplay.”

Assured that you weren’t to be made fun of, you spoke truthfully. “I enjoy classical music? I like to listen to ballets and operas. I can’t play any instruments, though.”

“Ballets? Like Swan Lake?”

Registering the familiar name, your eyes lifted up from the carpet and above to Minhyuk’s black gaze. You exchanged a knowing glance and smiled, “Yeah, Swan Lake is a great one! The finale is my favorite scene. The music and ending are so beautiful.”

“Even if they died?”

“But The Swan Queen needed to find true love to break the curse, dying for someone equals true love. They were together in the end.”

A half-hearted chuckle was his only response. “Yes, they were.”

Settling down on the foot of the bed, Minhyuk kept his hands clasped together, his eyes wandering around the room while he pieced his sentences together. “There’s one hobby! Being interested in operas and ballets. Those have been popular for hundreds of years for a reason, I’m sure you’ll meet someone who enjoys them as well. They might be a bit dated, so is there anything recent you are interested in? You were watching TikTok earlier.”

If there was one sentence you’d never expect to hear, it was a demon talking about TikTok.

“I’m not that invested in it, I just get a couple of the songs stuck in my head. Not really a hobby.”

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Minhyuk clicked his tongue, “Okay, let’s work off of ballets and operas then. Assuming a new friend does know about them, we can ask questions to keep the conversation going. Like, what are your opinions on Sleeping Beauty? Or La Bayadere?”

You beamed, “You know those too?”

Minhyuk’s smile reflected your tangible excitement, “I’m very old, sweetheart, even older than Swan Lake. There are few things I don’t know.”

You nodded, he was almost three hundred years old. He had been around for every major war you could think of, let alone the original production of the ballets and operas you loved. You wondered if he had sat in the front row, other patrons wearing expensive gowns and suits from many years ago. The sudden mystery of what he had seen when he was alive intrigued you, as well as what he had after... Three centuries worth of house calls meant he must have seen it all, which reminded you, “Wait, Is your time almost up? Do you have to answer your next call?”

Your disappointment was equally tangible. You had summoned a demon jokingly in order to find friends, but ended up becoming interested in the one person who couldn’t stay. A literal demon, a spirit. The conversation had just started but already your time was almost up. A quick check of his watch confirmed it.

Minhyuk stood to straighten his pants and vest, smoothing out any wrinkles and bumps. “I do, but I’d consider this appointment a success albeit short. My assessment concludes that although you might not have friends, you desperately needed some company tonight. Tomorrow is a fresh start. New day, new people, new opportunities. You can practice small conversations like we did. That should be the end of it. Now, how would you rate this visit?”

The mood shifted from ‘college sleep over’ to ‘exit interview questionnaire’ and you felt utterly lost. What you were feeling mirrored the exact circumstances you described earlier. When that brick wall of loneliness hit and things became silent. The absence of a friend felt like humidity during the summer, heavy but invisible. It weighed on every part of you and was hardly escapable. At least with weather it was predictable, with loneliness, you only had to wait and hope it didn’t consume you.

Eyes following the circles on your carpet, you gave him an honest review, “Not bad. I did enjoy talking about ballet. You can tell the HR department that even though you were late, you made up for it with your exemplary service. Five out of five stars.” The feeling wasn’t reaching your voice. You were always bad about hiding your emotions.

“Great! Another successful house call done! It was a pleasure to meet you, y/n. Don’t forget that essay is due soon, grades are important.”

“Thank you, Minhyuk, I’ll get it done. It was nice to meet you too, don’t be late for your next call.”

Minhyuk pressed his suit flat before settling on the swiveling desk chair once again, legs crossed and with a pleased expression. You were expecting him to erupt into flames and vanish into thin air, turn into an endless void, or simply poof like a fairy. He sat motionless and you feared that the next time you would blink, he’d be gone. But minutes passed without a change.

“Aren’t you gonna be late?”

“Yes, but I was watching you to see if you’d be okay.”

“I’ll be fine. It was nice to meet you, really.” You nodded for emphasis, eye contact becoming more difficult as you found the truth harder to conceal.

“I told you, I’m very old. Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I can’t see pain behind someone’s eyes, I was alive once too. Would you like me to come back?”

Minhyuk’s smile was truly sinister. There was no use trying to hide your grin, you did want to see him again. Maybe you were desperate for conversation and company like he assessed, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. You didn’t regret summoning a demon so far, so why start now?

The corner’s of his eyes crinkled at your response, seeing the comfort and reassurance he brought pleased him. “It’s quite difficult to summon a particular demon, since we don’t really have Caller ID in hell...but, how about you repeat the chant at the same time next week and I’ll try my best?”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll do it at the exact same time. I’ll keep the desk chair empty for you! You can tell me about hell too, or if you have another weekend drinking binge. A party in hell sounds wild.”

Minhyuk chuckled, flipping his wrist to check his watch one more time. He had to leave now to make his daily quota for house calls and even he felt a small prick of regret at leaving you behind. He knew that the chances of being able to answer you the following week were slim, but what worried him even more was the chance that you might forget, or decide not to summon a demon at all.

“Practice what we did today with some students at your school and finish your essay. I want to hear all about it when I come back. Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Minhyuk.”

When you finished waving goodbye, the entirety of your room went dark. There was no speck of light. The lamp and laptop lost all power and you were stuck moving around to find something to turn on. Feeling the lighter on your dresser, you clicked the plastic button and a fire kindled at the end. Once there was enough visibility, you pulled the cord to the lamp to turn it back on.

The desk chair was empty. You weren’t sad, in fact you smiled. You hung onto the hope that Minhyuk would be back next week. You crawled back into bed and got started on your essay, but not without first bookmarking your tab on how to summon a demon.

#monsta x #lee minhyuk #minhyuk monsta x #mx #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x drabble #mx imagines #monsta x oneshot #demon au #minhyuk demon au #mx scenarios #this was so healing to write #wish i had a demon minhyuk #writings #idk how to tag still

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 12

Masterlist

Winding down from the frenzy of the last chapter... Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤

Word Count: 5.9k

Recommended song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

“Mon amour, wake up.”

Pierre’s sleep-heavy voice rouses you from the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of his even breathing under the soothing touch of his thumb tracing patterns on your side.

You crack your eyes open to see him silhouetted by the white light of the waning moon, his bare chest left uncovered by the blanket slung low over his hips. The sight alone has your mind instantly jumping into overdrive, fighting the need to sleep with the need to continue ogling the bare skin a foot from your face.

“I let you sleep as long as I could,” he says softly, reaching behind him for his phone. “We have to be on the M1 in about half an hour.”

“Mmmph,” you groan, snuggling back under the blanket and closer to him, chasing the warmth radiating from him. “The sun isn’t even out.”

His chuckle shakes the bed. “I figured you would say that which is why I made you breakfast and picked out your clothes. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get dressed.”

You hum appreciatively and press a kiss to his bare sternum. “Is this how you’re going out today? Because I won’t complain but you might cause a few heart attacks.” A kiss to your temple is a small reward for your comment, as well as a concession.

"Don't worry, this is reserved only for you." He stretches an arm above his head, grinning when your eyes immediately are drawn to the way the muscles ripple and pull under his skin. You stare shamelessly as he flexes a little for your benefit, the action going straight to your head.

"As it should be." You bite your lip and let your fingertips dance over his chest, memorizing the way it rises and falls so predictably with each deep breath. Against your better judgement you trail kisses up over his pectoral and spot them along his shoulder, dragging another light chuckle from him.

"My love," he warns, voice tinted with mischief, "we don't have time."

"Oh I think we do." You continue your path over his collarbone and to the hollow of his throat. Taking advantage of his biggest weakness, you flick your tongue over his prominent adam’s apple. The move has his hand engulfing your upper arm, giving you a warning squeeze.

"As wonderful as this is" -he sucks in a sharp breath when your teeth graze his neck- "if I'm late Horner will kill me."

"What's new?" You say, but draw back. The mere mention of his name made you see red and shattered the moment. "Do you really want to go back to Red Bull after how they treated you?"

"No," he admits, slipping an arm around you and tugging you up and into a sitting position, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of lust. "But if I want a shot with a top team when my contract is up, I don’t have much choice."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

Pierre studies you as you slip into the clothes he had selected for you. Nothing fancy, just an AlphaTauri branded navy and white hoodie and some light wash jeans. You don't miss the way his lips twitch upward when you notice it's his hoodie, his last name embroidered in block font on the cuff a dead giveaway even if the hoodie hadn't been ridiculously oversized on you.

Cheeky bastard.

"I think I would look good in sunshine yellow," he remarks. You make a show of looking him up and down under the pretense of imagining him in a Renault branded hoodie or their signature black race suit. Truthfully it was just another excuse to drink him in like the fine wine he was and recall how he had tasted on your tongue last night.

He would look good in any color on the grid but you don't grant him the satisfaction of pointing that out. Instead, you lean forward to toy with the waistband of the jeans he had hastily buttoned seconds earlier. "You and Daniel get along just fine." You snag him by the belt loops and yank him forward back onto the bed. "I think you should go to McLaren.”

“I’d still look good in orange.”

You wind your fingers under his waistband. “I think you’d look best wearing nothing at all, actually.”

“The time,” Pierre protests lightly when you pop open the button and undo the zipper. He groans when you yank the denim down around his thighs, finally submitting to your touch and lacing his fingers in your hair. Your lips explore the planes of his abdomen, any and all thoughts of speed abandoned on your end. "If you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."

"Maybe you'll just have to drive fast. I hear you’re good at that."

**********

"So how is it that they got your car all the way to London?"

"It's got its own private jet."

You roll your eyes and smack the hand resting on your thigh. His response is a light squeeze and a chuckle before he continues, "They've got a few spares they keep around for when drivers come to town. I can't be seen in a Mini or it would cause a scandal."

"Oh yes it would be quite tragic." His hand charts a dangerous path along your thigh. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slots a thumb between your legs and presses it tight to the apex of your thighs.

You snap your knees shut, effectively trapping his hand "Now you're just being cruel."

"Only dishing out what you did this morning," he points out and wiggles his hand free to rest on your knee instead. The message was clear: he had shaken you well enough for his liking and was perfectly content to leave you frustrated until he could get you home.

“So catch me up on what I’ve missed,” you say, determined to distract yourself from Pierre’s slight teasing. “What’s new in the life of the rising star in Formula 1?”

“Rising star,” Pierre mumbles and rolls his eyes. “Not yet, my love. Getting there, but not yet.”

“Please, you’re too modest. Last night when you fell asleep- you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, don't give me that look!” Pierre picks his jaw up off the floor and shakes his head as you continue, “I read plenty of articles that called you the next big thing, right up there with Max.”

The comparison didn't seem to sit right with him. He shifts in his seat, rolling words over on his tongue. “I’m sure you’re caught up then. I haven’t done anything really besides train and race.”

“I did notice you’ve beefed up a bit.”

“Yet another reason to thank Pyry.”

“At this point I should send him a fruit basket for his trouble.”

“Maybe you should.” Pierre grins, hand leaving your thigh for a split second to upshift. “What about you? How’s year four treating you?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” you groan. “My senior project is already killing me and I’ve only just started it. We have to design a building from the ground up- I mean I like architecture but I’m trying to be an engineer, not an architect. I dunno why I have to be the one to design a building! At this point it’s just a brick box.”

“Sounds challenging,” Pierre notes, flooring it when he merges onto the highway. Though the speed makes your stomach flip, you don’t miss a beat.

“My team doesn’t do much either, I’ve been doing most of it. I could rant for hours about it.”

Pierre glances at the clock, then back to you. The blue of his eyes is blocked by his signature purple tinted sunglasses, shielding them from the rising sun that casts him in a warm orange glow. “Humor me. We’ve got time.”

The hour and a half drive was by no means dull with Pierre's teasing touches and endless string of questioning along the way. He asked after every aspect of your life that had transpired in the last four months, only stopping you once in a while to interject with an opinion or anecdote. He didn't stop at your life either, even asking after Ben's relationship. You'd been happy to report that he had indeed wooed his crush and had officially asked him to be his boyfriend.

"Those secret French lessons paid off," Pierre jokes as he pulls up to the imposing glass fronted building that served as Red Bull Racing's headquarters. The sweeping curve of the entrance was flanked on either side by two-story red and yellow bulls; proof that the team's dramatics extended far past the track. Anyone approaching for the first time would have been intimidated by the sheer size of them that suggested they were ready to stomp on their competition at a moment’s notice.

“Guess it’s time.” You sigh and undo your seatbelt and fiddle with the buckle, doing your best to stall. There was no reason to be this nervous. You were no one to these people; the focus would be entirely on Pierre. You would be an afterthought, not that you minded because it made it easier to fade into the background.

Pierre picks up on your hesitation in a heartbeat. “I’ll keep them off your back,” he promises and you nod, the single sentence taking the edge off. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You reach for the door handle but Pierre tsks and you pause.

"You know better." You bite your lip to keep back the grin fighting its way to the surface as he comes around to open your door. He offers you his hand and you gladly take it and are pleasantly surprised when he threads his fingers through yours and heads for the entrance.

The atrium serving as the lobby is breathtakingly gorgeous. You had to hand it to the interior designer; they knew what they were doing. Sleek white marble floors are accented by red and yellow leather chairs scattered in small groups throughout the grand space. A tiered circular modern interpretation of a chandelier hangs above to offer guidance to the accountants, engineers and artists that weave through the lobby on their way to their respective wings or offices.

A waist high, glass front cabinet of drivers helmets serves as the reception desk. The unmistakable scent of a fresh cup of coffee hits you as you approach and the secretary hands a steaming paper cup to someone before they scurry off, presumably to a private office if they were important enough to warrant special attention. The first rays of morning sunlight glint off the silver Red Bull logo inlaid in the black marble behind the woman at the counter, making you squint.

"Bonjour Monsieur Gasly," she says in perfect French. "Ça va?"

"Bien," he says simply and switches to English for your benefit. "Has Christian come through yet?"

"He has," the woman says, glancing sidelong at you. Whatever conclusions she draws about you are insignificant enough that she writes you off immediately, angling her body towards Pierre and resting her chin in her hand. The posturing puts her ample chest on display, nearly spilling out of her billowing blouse, but Pierre's eyes don't wander. "He's not expecting you yet. Voulez-vous un cafe?"

"I'm good." The woman may have been determined to alienate you but Pierre was having none of it. Pierre turns to you, a grin playing on his face. This was your first test as an official couple and he intended to see how you handled it. "How about you, my love? Coffee?"

The woman's eyes slip to where your hand remains clasped in his. She cocks her head so slightly you think you might be imagining it until Pierre's grip tightens, a silent encouragement. Your confidence soars. If this was how Daniel's girlfriend felt when the two of them were out, you finally understood why they didn't hide. It was a rush knowing that everyone wanted Pierre but he only wanted you. No matter how blatantly women threw themselves at him, there was no doubt in your mind that he would never give a single one of them the light of day.

It was about damn time you afforded him the same unwavering commitment as he had shown you.

"No thank you," you reply sweetly with a mocking smile directed to the woman. You lean in and drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You might want to fix your shirt though, it’s… slipped. I know I'd hate for that to happen to me and no one tell me, especially at work. I don't think I'd ever recover from it."

Her face immediately turns scarlet as she stands straight and folds her arms over her chest. "If I were you-"

"Let Horner know I'm here," Pierre interrupts and it's somehow the hottest thing he's ever said. His purely commanding tone leaves no room for argument.

"Of course," she replies with a sharp smile in your direction that makes your spine stiffen. "Good luck. Christian is in rare form this morning."

"Just ignore it," Pierre murmurs and sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you across the cold marble and down a carpeted hall. "You handled that well.”

“I may have gotten a few pointers from Daniel’s lover.” Your soft smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The short interaction had sapped most of your confidence, leaving you on uneven footing. “I would rather not have to deal with that again soon though.”

“I can handle the women easy enough when I know I’ve got you to come home to.”

The tightness in your chest eases further when the hall opens into another startlingly white space, this time packed with rows and rows of navy cubicles. But that's not where your attention is drawn- instead, your gaze is immediately snagged by the case of trophies towering high along the back wall. Cups of every shape and size shine within, each one representing a different podium for the team achieved in various years and tracks.

"There must be over a hundred," you breathe, mesmerized by the glinting silver and intricate craftsmanship. The case was easily thirty feet tall and you had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the ones in the top row. Each one told a story of blood, sweat and tears, each one earned by a driver who had made countless sacrifices to be where they were and finish on a podium.

"A hundred and eighty five to be exact," he counters, laughing at your amusement. "Your inner architect is screaming isn't it?"

"Only a little."

Pierre laughs outright at your white lie and tugs you along. "You can stare on the way out. I'll even show you which ones were Max's."

"Did you memorize what all his trophies look like?"

"Hey, meetings with engineers get boring. It's one of the more interesting ways to occupy your time when they are going on and on about fluid mechanics and thermodynamics- you know, stuff you understand but not me."

"Oh whatever, you enjoy those meetings and you know it."

"Only a little," he quotes.

People recognize him as you pass and some nod or give a simple greeting as they go about their morning but no one stops him to chat. The air feels a bit hostile, like no one knows what to do with him now that he's walking through the building after a nearly two year absence.

"Do you miss it?" You ask after he smiles at someone for the millionth time.

"I miss the team," he admits, "but not the management culture. My team was great- they supported me any way they could but it didn't help that Horner didn't exactly encourage them to believe in me. It's hard to crank out results when there's no one on your side."

"I'm on your side," you point out, nudging him with your hip. "You've got me forever, no takesies backsies."

"I'm grateful for it," he murmurs and gives your hand a squeeze. He hadn't let go once; not when he had to open a door or the two of you had to walk single file to let people pass.

The building was a labyrinth and if it wasn't for Pierre you'd have been lost the moment you set foot inside. He navigates the twisting halls with ease, having no need for the countless signs posted along the way.

He leads you up a set of steel stairs after what seems like ages. When he knocks on a heavy oak door, his grip on your hand turns possessive like he suspects the office’s occupant would try to rip you away from him.

“Morning.”

God, even the one word makes rage simmer in your veins. The voice precedes the man and Christian Horner swings open the door, a plastic smile splitting his face. He doesn't bother acknowledging you with a greeting, instead addressing his driver directly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest.”

“A pretty face was needed around here,” Pierre snaps back without missing a beat. You bristle, free hand curling into a fist. If there was one person you didn’t mind teaching a lesson to, it was Horner. He had little respect for anyone he viewed as disposable- up to and including “underperforming” drivers.

Christian raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She can wait out here- you and I have terms to discuss.”

Fine, Horner wanted to play dirty? So could you. When it came to staring him down, you became fearless. He was the one person you refused to let intimidate you.

Drawing on your newly minted confidence you smile up at Pierre and silence the protest forming on his tongue with a grin. “Gimme a kiss, race winner.”

Pierre doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Cupping a hand to the back of his neck you draw him in and nip at his lower lip. The hand on your hip tightens at Christian's scoff but Pierre makes no move to break away. You linger a moment longer than necessary to drive your point home: you didn’t care what Horner had to say about you, you were here to stay and he would have to get used to it.

Pierre gives you a small, blissed out smile before dropping your hand and following Horner inside. The door clicks but doesn't shut all the way, Pierre leaving it cracked for your benefit.

Uninterested in eavesdropping on small talk, you lean on the metal railing to observe the research and development garage coming to life on the floor below. Hybrid engines in various stages of disassembly dot the space, small teams of mechanics and engineers tweaking components to reduce weight or increase horsepower. Pistons and valves are scrutinized and exchanged before being placed under stress to test their strength.

An FIA official in a red jacket wove through the garage to observe and jot notes down on a clipboard. He looks over the shoulder of an engineer pouring over formulas on a whiteboard, startling him when the official asks a question. Someone calls your name from below and you search for the origin, finally spotting the woman and waving back at her.

Management may have their qualms with Pierre but it was clear there were still some within the team that had his back. They were likely the same ones that knew he would have to leave the Red Bull umbrella to find any semblance of success. They may not have possessed the guts to stick their necks out for him when Horner had cut him but they were at least happy to see him back around headquarters.

"You sure you'll rise to the challenge?" Horner's question drags you back to the mezzanine.

"I'll take seventh. I'm only a few points away and we have plenty of races left."

He had five races to catch up to be exact. Pierre currently was comfortably ahead of the pack in ninth, Sainz was only three points ahead in eighth, and Norris ten points beyond in seventh. It would only take a DNF or two from his rivals and a few podiums to pass them up.

"Right," Horner starts. "There's a reason you've done so well this season and it's not luck. You've been racing exceptionally well and I don't want that to change."

"If there's something on your mind just get on with it." Pierre's voice is calm and collected in a way yours wouldn't be if you had been in his shoes. You've been dying to rip into Horner since the day he wrote Pierre off.

"There's been a fire in you the past few months since she has been gone-"

"Leave her out of this."

The tone sends a chill down your spine. It maintains the same level headedness that Pierre had perfected over the years and you had come to expect when he was backed against a wall, but it was laced with an unspoken threat. The intent was clear: he would walk out and abandon his chance for a seat at Red Bull if it meant protecting you.

You creep to the door to peer through the crack. Horner crosses his arms, a sly smile on his face. "You would sacrifice your chance at a championship winning seat for her? Everything you've worked so hard for, gone in a flash, because of her?"

"Without question," Pierre answers immediately. The conviction and commitment behind it nearly makes you stumble. "I'm sure there's plenty of other teams that would love to have me after the season I've had. She’s not going anywhere, so either you stop disrespecting her or I walk out."

You clench your fists, ready to burst in and demand Pierre stop being a fucking idiot. His long term plan saw him at another top team that would take care of him and nurture his skill- a long stint at Red Bull Racing was never in the cards. It wasn't an environment for everyone. Some people like Max thrived in it, letting the toxicity roll off their backs but for Pierre it was a cruel form of punishment. However, a seat at Red Bull for the 2022 season could mean the difference between an offer from Alpine and an offer from Haas when his contract was up for renewal.

The idea of seeing his number stickered to the floor in a Red Bull garage excites and intimidates you. Last time he hadn't been given the chance to prove himself. Would they still hold that against him? Knowing Christian, he probably would. On the other hand, it meant that they admitted their mistake in cutting him mid-season, whether they said it outright or not.

Pierre's redemption day was on the horizon and you couldn't wait to see the look on Horner's face when he finally won. And the longer Christian stays silent, the more potent the urge to throttle him grows.

Christian gives a slow clap. "Now there's the unwavering commitment that was missing during round one."

Your heart hammers in the dead silence as papers are shuffled. "Here's the contract. Terms are as discussed, you secure seventh in the world championship in 2021 and the second seat at Red Bull Racing is yours for the entire calendar in 2022. No demotions, substitutions, or shuffling of drivers unless medically necessary or mutually agreed upon by all affected parties."

"And the same spec car as the number one seat," Pierre insists, spine straight. "Same strategy."

Christian waves a hand. "Yes, that's in there too. Feel free to take a moment and read it over."

He does, allowing Christian time to pour a knuckle of whiskey and set the glass before Pierre. He pours himself an identical glass and waits until Pierre signs and initials all the boxes before raising it in acknowledgement.

"Congratulations. Welcome back to Red Bull- conditionally."

Pierre leaves the glass untouched and remains silent, staring his potential future team principal down. He gives the man no margin to question his abilities further, conveying all he needs to with a look that would have had you shaking at the knees. Even if you can't see his face, wrath radiates from him in waves and you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it when it explodes.

"Right then." Christian lowers the glass, his fake smile vanishing. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Don't worry. I'll deliver."

You step back and allow him to set the mood as he exits the office and slams the door behind him. Pierre sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "You heard all of that right?"

You nod. "You wouldn't have really walked out, right?"

"I almost did."

He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like you should know that he would choose you over all of this, that all of his dreams and everything he had sacrificed to achieve them thus far meant less to him than you did. How many times did he have to prove his unwavering commitment before you realized it was true?

Pierre laces his fingers through yours, the heat welcomed by your ice cold skin. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him. "I just have to grab some things from Max's office and then we can head out."

His jaw is still set after his stand off with Christian and you want nothing more than to ease his mind. Publicly comforting him with a touch to his chest or a kiss to his neck was out of the question so you settle on temporary distraction.

"Hey, you know what I want to see?"

"What's that?"

"That room full of all the old chassis. You know, the one that they hold all the fancy virtual events in? I wanna see those."

"I think I should be able to get you back there." He veers down a hall and you yelp, pulled along by his momentum. His attitude brightens a little at your laugh. The grin he throws your way is your own personal sun, warming your soul.

"Hey- hold on." You pull him to a stop and lead him into an alcove. The inch of space between your chests is charged with electricity, begging to jump from one to the other.

"Can I help you?" He asks and grins down at you.

"No," you say nonchalantly. "Just wanted to be selfish for a second."

You rise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He melts into you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other finds the small of your back. You side your tongue over his lower lip and he presses you against the door leading to who knew where and opens his mouth to you. You sigh into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and losing yourself in him.

Now that you had gotten over your anxiety, everything was so much easier. You know there's press roaming about the building and any number of them could pass by at any moment but you genuinely couldn't care less. Let them talk; you were over caring what anyone thought or said.

All that mattered was the man beneath your fingertips. You would endure a lifetime of insults if he was the one to soothe the wounds afterwards. As long as you both were happy, no one could come between you ever again.

Pierre pulls away when someone passes by and coughs quietly. "You're trouble," he murmurs, leaving an arm propped next to your head and effectively caging you in.

"And you're dangerous," you tease, tugging on his hair and exposing his throat enough to nip at it once. "Together we're the perfect pair."

He groans and leans away. "Keep that up and I might have to stay in London an extra week."

You slip out of his grasp and give him an unrestrained grin. "Don't threaten me with a good time." You spin on your heel and set off down the hall, swaying your hips a little more than necessary.

"You know where you're going?" He calls after you.

"Someone will point me in the right direction, I'm sure."

"Someone like me." He catches up to you and once again takes your hand in his. He was enjoying showing you off almost as much as you enjoyed hanging on him.

"Maybe we should head right to Max's office and hurry home, huh?"

"Maybe-"

"Pierre, there you are."

You both turn to a woman hustling up the hall after you. She’s slight and her brown curls bounce as she jogs to where the two of you pause at a bend. You glance up to Pierre to see if he's just as confused as you are.

"Hey Mary," he says cheerily. "How are you? Sorry I didn't check in with you when I got here."

"Oh it's fine- why aren't you in the Alpha samples I sent?” The woman props a fist on her hip and tips her head to the side. “I think I got your size right now that I’ve laid eyes on you. I was hoping for a shoot today since you've finally come by."

It takes you a moment to register that she's addressing you. You shoot Pierre a look and he offers you a tentative, closed off smile. "Um, what Alpha gear?"

The woman's chocolate brown eyes go wide. "The ones I've been sending to Pierre. Hoodies, dresses, jackets. All the stuff from the new line. They have been sending the samples to you, right?"

"Um, yeah I've gotten them," Pierre says, rubbing his neck. "I haven't given them to her though."

"Oh, I see!” Pink tinges Mary’s cheeks. “I must have missed a memo. I just thought that you'd want to do a shoot with her today, since we already had a quick one planned for you. After all, you talk about her all the time."

"He does?"

Mary nods. "Oh yes, we've all heard plenty about you. You're lucky to have someone so enamored with you. I just dropped off some more samples in Max's office as a little thank you for letting us steal him so often-"

"Okay, thank you Mary," Pierre says abruptly. "I'll get back to you on that."

Pierre steers you away and down the hall. "What was she talking about? Why would they want me to come by for a photo shoot?"

Pierre runs a hand through his hair and pauses outside Max's office. The Dutchman must have been away because Pierre pulls out his key and fits it in the lock. "I just- come on."

He waves you inside and you obey, letting him close the door and grant you some semblance of privacy before continuing.

"I never formally told anyone that we broke up. Most people came to their own conclusions once they didn't see you around for a while. Some people didn't get the message. Obviously Mary was one of them. I would still talk about you, I couldn't help myself. There was one shoot where Yuki and I were together and he mentioned off hand that you'd be a good brand ambassador. I tried to explain that it wouldn't work but Mary wouldn't hear it and she just kept sending me more and more samples.”

You draw a breath and interrupt his rambling. “But where-”

"I had it all in a box in my office but I struggled to concentrate with a reminder of you hanging over my head. I sent it over here to Max and that's where it's sat ever since. I used the excuse that Max was in town more often than I was and no one read too far into it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper. "I would've taken them. I'm sure you got an earful from Mary."

"Would you have?” Pierre pauses, your silence in the face of his frustration speaking volumes. “I waited four months to hear from you. Tell me that sending you thousands of dollars in unreleased merch wouldn't have made you even more hesitant to come back to me."

Not knowing what else to say, you let your gaze fall to the carpet. Sending you expensive things would have felt something like a bribe, like he was trying to influence you with fancy clothes.

Pierre shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now. We can take it home today and you can wear it when I take you for dinner and Alpha will get the press they’re after. Everyone will be happy.”

He wasn’t happy. That much was plain to see. He hadn’t been able to stomach seeing something intended for you, even that minute of a reminder had been too much for him to bear. God, you had thoroughly wrecked him. You were lucky that there were still enough pieces of him left to heal.

“I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you cross the cramped space to him, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork carefully so as to not disturb whatever random order they were placed in. You don’t dare reach out to touch him as his shoulders slump, any and all forward momentum he’d gathered suddenly sapped.

“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.”

Unable to let him suffer alone with his thoughts, you wrap your arms around his middle and let your cheek rest between his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alienate you. I was waiting for you, too.”

“You needed space and I gave it to you.” His hand rests on your arm with a gentleness you’ve come to expect when he lays himself bare like this. “There were so many times I almost gave in to the impulse and just messaged you but I made myself wait. I didn’t want to rush it and make things worse. You always need time to think things through- I knew you would come around eventually. It didn’t make it any easier though.”

You rub soothing circles on his side as you blink back the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m sorry I took so long and I’m sorry I made you wait. It had to have been torture-”

He turns in your embrace and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The pad of his thumb sweeps across your cheek, the metal of the ring on his middle finger biting into your flushed skin. “It’s alright. You had a lot to sort through and I had to respect that.”

“We lost so much time-”

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “We’re together now. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you can’t let missed opportunities control you or else you’ll never be happy.”

You nod, swiping your sleeve under your eyes. “What did they send?” you ask, nodding towards the box overflowing with tan and navy threads.

“Pull up a chair,” Pierre suggests, “there’s a lot.”

You roll over Max’s desk chair and tug on Pierre’s arm. Once he gets the picture and sits, you settle in his lap. He winds an arm around your middle, the close contact already soothing your frazzled nerves.

“That better?” he murmurs.

“Much better.”

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seeds-and-sins · 3 years

Text

Right Time, Wrong Place.

Pairing: John Seed x Reader

Rating: M (SMUT!! & Language)

Description: You take over John Seed’s ranch, have some me time in his bed, only to find that he was watching the whole thing on his secret security cameras.

Tagged: @ivyluv

You had wanted revenge and you were determined to get it. It was as simple as that. Granted capturing John Seed's Ranch was just another box ticked for the resistance effort's chances of winning back Hope County, but for you? it was personal. The man stuffed you in a chair, tortured your best friend, and threatened to cut into your skin. To make matters worse, he looked like a whole damn meal while doing it. Speaking to you in that sinfully deep and rumbling tone that made you wet beyond imagine. Fuck that son of a bitch. Whoever stuffs you in a chair, tortures your friend, and threatens to cut you, loses their ranch. That's the deal, and it's final.

His response:

So. You've taken my home in the name of your little "Resistance." Ah, if those walls could talk... well, more accurately scream... Just know that I will get it back - sooner or later. And when I do, maybe I'll hang your skin as a trophy above the mantle.

You raided John's secret wine cellar later that day, laughing your ass off over the recollection of irritation in John's voice. All it took was a little push to send the man snapping into rage and oblivion.

You invaded all of John's privacy; following the wine cellar, came his office, following the office, came his kitchen, and then his own room. Everything was so neat and organized, the man didn't have one thing out of place. It was a testament in comparison to his unruly image when he would lose a few screws in agitation. His clothes were folded to perfection, placed into his drawers by color, style, or brand. For the clothes that weren't in his drawers, they were in his walk in closet; Gucci, Calvin Klein, Tom Ford O'Conner, and Brioni. The man was a walking advertisement, from his sunglasses to his shoes. You were certain that the outfit you had seen him in last costed about the same as your car in total. And now you had full access to everything...

"What the FUCK is she doing?!" John fumed, pacing back and forth in front of security monitors that lined the wall of his bunker office.

"Sir, we are doing everything we can-"

"Get out!" He demanded, bloodshot eyes settling on the screen, sweat beading down his forehead, as he watched you demolish his personal space. The bunker door shut behind him with an audible plank and he sunk back into a leather seat with a sigh of exasperation. You were driving him absolutely crazy: waltzing around his home as if it was your own, with his most expensive bottle of chardonnay no less.

You were throwing pictures off the walls, moving furniture around, and wrecking his entire wardrobe with your slimey fingers. He was under distress simply watching it all unfold before his eyes, the massacre, the trauma, his beloved ranch was being destroyed. What would Joseph think of him right now? So distraught over the material pleasures that he had collected for himself over the years. They were really all he had anymore, aside from his family and the project. You were disrespecting him, but it's not like you hadn't before. Countless times you had undermined him for the sake of your little act as hero, nothing he hadn't gotten used to these past few weeks. He enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, the playful chase, but this? This was personal...

*Uh yeah so, Sharky and I are having a big bonfire out by the henbane. Some of the others will be there, you coming?*

"No thanks, Hurk..." You replied with a proud smile on your lips, fiddling with the many cologne bottles that flooded John's dresser. "I think I'll stay here. I'm enjoying myself."

*Well, that's-* Hurk was interrupted on the other end by the familiar voice of a pyromaniac on steroids. *Is that the deputy?! Tell her to get her ass over here, now, so we can start this party.* There was minor shuffling on the other end, the radio clicked out a few times as if it was being wrestled for. *Give it, man!-Stop that!* You chuckled at the image of Hurk and Sharky fighting over a walkie talkie in the middle of the batshit woods. You laughed at what Hurk Sr. was probably thinking of the whole ordeal as he watched from his porch.

"Alright boys, well, I'm staying here for the night so, catch ya' later." You immediately switched the frequency, dropping it down onto the dresser. You collected the bottle of wine you had discarded in John's wardrobe, taking long gulps of it as you took note of his belongings. The entire place smelled like him, you had only caught a whiff when he was devastatingly close to when you were captive, but it was enough to recognize the hints of sharp Dior, new shoes, and rose. The man was a sin in the flesh and he knew it all too well, recruiting to the cult hundreds of people that most certainly lusted after him in private. He would have had a hold on you if he hadn't had been pressing a scalpel to your throat, or sending off a bunch of red flags with that psychotic glimmer in his eyes.

You could imagine though, fuel your darkest desires and daydreams as you stormed his castle. The wine helped, you had gone through half of the bottle as you adventured and you were starting to feel its effects. In your dreams, John was your lover. He was still a lawyer with the same successful edge and fortune to boot. He wasn't a crazy lunatic, following a bunch of other crazy lunatics. He was a man that fought for true justice, just as you had. And now, you were waiting for him to come home. You nearly dropped the bottle in your intense reverie. You carried the bottle into John's giant bathroom, you placed it on the edge of the tub, and turned the water on.

The grime stuck to you from the days events; the mud had caked on, gunpowder dusting your face, and blisters, cuts and bruises, scattered across your body. For a moment, it brought you back into the harsh reality that you were in a war zone. That John was a dangerous man and that you were utilizing his home like some sort of fun house. You shook the thoughts of blood and violence from your mind, derobing yourself of the dirty clothes and weapons that hung from you. When the water was shallow enough, you turned it off, dropping one of John's assorted bath bombs into it and waiting a few seconds for the soap to take. You couldn't remember the last time you had taken a bath and John's bathtub was about the size of a hottub.

You were in the bliss, the warm water engulfed your aching muscles and damaged flesh without hesitation, welcoming you into a trance of tranquility and calm. No bullets. No explosions. No expectations. Just you and this bath. Your mind wandered again as you rested in the lapping liquid, dirt and all sorts of substances leaving you like a weight being lifted off your chest. You could fantasize about John again, get back into the dream world you had created for yourself as you explored his home-correction; As you waited for John Seed to come home from his job as Hope County's trustworthy, kind, and loving lawyer.

You lathered yourself with all sorts of special products that John kept perched on the tub's edge. You took fluid swigs from the nearly empty bottle of wine every now and again, until you decided you were clean enough. John could be home any minute after all. You stepped out of the tub, pulled the plug on the drain, and left the bathroom into the closet again. Not without what was left of the wine, of course. He would want to see you in something appealing on the eyes, something that would tease him and draw him in from a long day of exhausting work. You could massage his taut shoulders, fingers moving down over those rippling muscles.

You settled for an expensive silk blue button up, no need for underwear with no one around. The button up was slightly open at the top, not that you'd be expecting any company-aside from John, that was. You flicked the light off and the room cascaded in darkness, aside from the moonlight that drew in through the blinds. John would enjoy seeing you like this. You jumped onto the bed; so big and comfy. The pillows seemed to swallow you with their fluff, douvet and all, tracing along your curves and exposed thighs. You adjusted so that your head was propped back and you were comfy, legs parted as you closed your eyes and sunk further into the dream you had created.

If John was normal, he would be gentle and soft. He would run his fingers down you when he arrived upon your shared bedroom. He would whisper sweet nothings into your ear as his dirty hands came over every bit of flesh on your body. He would seek your pleasure first, attend to your needs and wants, because you would look, Oh, so sinful. It was almost like you could hear his voice in your mind. He wasn't yelling at you. He was whispering to you, begging for everything that your body could give him. He would praise you like the God he worshipped, settle on his prayer voice when he spoke to you and made the filthiest promises.

You want me to do this to you, don't you? Touch you like this? Spread you like this?

"Yes," You mewed, you wanted him so bad. "Please."

...

"Dear, sweet mother of-" John choked out, face nearly sinking straight through the computer screen and he leaned in as close as was possible. He was so close that the static was barely electrifying the thick hairs of his beard. "Fuck me." He was straining in his jeans watching you get so comfy in his home. He wished he could hear you, cursing himself for not having installed more advanced cameras, as Jacob had suggested months ago. Thank the lord, they were hidden from sight. Thank the lord, that he had the opportunity to see you so vulnerable.

He bit his bottom lip nervously. What would Joseph say? Giving into sin like a moth to the flame. His eyes flitted over to the walkie talkie that sat on the desk. It was begging to be used, begging for John to do something that was reckless and sinful and dirty and everything he could be punished for if he tried. He groaned as he watched your hand finally reach its destination, your eyelids fluttering shut as you rubbing gently along your folds. The black and grey could only give away so much in this darkness. The night vision feature only worked to such an extent. Even so, John couldn't tear his eyes away. You were in HIS bed, in HIS clothes, after taking a bath with products that smelled like HIM. You were practically his at this point. All his.

...

You were so close, thinking about John, about his fingers on you, about his cock inside of you, about his lips passing over every deeply intimate spot on your body. You could feel the edge coming for you, as his scent penetrated you, as you felt the silk of his shirt against your nipples. You cried out, so close.

"Oh, John, fuck." You were alone, filled with careless abandon, delving deeper into this madness that was him. You were a second away from the most explosive orgasm you had had in weeks.

*Deputy...* You paused, feeling a cold sweat fall over you at the coo. Your eyebrows furrowed as you sat up on your elbows, eyes landing on the discard walkie talkie that you had left behind on the dresser. You worried at your bottom lip in frustration. You were so fucking close. *I know you are there. Speak to me.* You should ignore him. But how could anyone ignore John when he sounded like that; desperate, disheveled, and hot. He sounded of so hot and sweet. You dropped back into the pillow with a grunt, thinking that you could turn the radio off and be through with these constant disturbances. *Please.* Desperate, disheveled, hot. So, hot.

In one swoop, you jumped off the bed and attained the radio. You drew it up to your lips with a huff, fists clenched from the sheer rage that was building in you.

"What the fuck do you want, John? If this isn't about the negotiated release of Hudson, then I don't want anything to do with you." You waited for John's response, as it was suddenly very quiet on his end. Usually he spoke more, teased you more, threatened you more. Heck, just earlier he said he would get you back.

*This isn't about that.* His tone was of venom and annoyance now, which only sought to make you more irritated.

"Then, I don't see there being any reason to continue talking with you."

*Wait!* He sounded strained, as if she had broken him. *I can think of a few reasons.* Of course, he wants his house back. Poor fellow. You rushed and plopped back down onto the bed, a bright grin appearing on your lips.

"Oh John, Oh John," You taunted, feeling like you should run a victory lap for your achievement. Instead, you enveloped yourself in all of John's wealth and money. "Have I affected you in some kind of way?" Silence. "Little ole'me, in your home, all comfy in your bed, using your things. Sounds like I have gotten to you." The strangled groan that was relayed over the radio went straight between your legs. You had heard John groan out his irritation before and although this sounded slightly different, you hadn't thought anything of it. It wouldn't hurt to continue what you were doing before John's interruption. God knows you were still so close, thinking about him. He didn't need to know.

*You must have it all wrong, Deputy. The idea of you taking pleasure in my belongings brings a smile to my face.* The playful back and forth was a favorite of yours, you wouldn't lie. You never quite had the same interactions as you did with Jacob and Faith, both of whom would often ignore your jests completely. John reacted, he would give you his utter attention everytime you entered his region. You bathed in that sort of acknowledgement. You were now on the path of admitting that it kind of got you off; hearing his frustrations, hearing him coo, hearing him reciprocate every remark you gave him.

He liked it too. You knew he liked it.

"I'm such a bad sinner, aren't I?" You closed your eyes, free hand now coming down to the place you needed it most. A new fantasy had taken root, of John pleasuring himself as he spoke to you, getting off on your voice, off on his fantasies of you. On any other night, you couldn't imagine him breaking Joseph's rules to do such a thing. But tonight you wanted to imagine everything about John. He would be fisting his cock to the sound of you disobeying him at every turn, speaking into the radio, every word you spoke he clung to like a last breath. Tonight, you imagined him doing this: being sinful and breaking the rules in your honor. He would be relieving the tension that plagued you both for so long in his mind. He was no longer the sweet and gentle husband, coming home from work. He was the filthy, dirty, lusty lawyer that was your enemy; grasping for a chance to get you alone, so he could have you to himself.

*I should punish you...* You moaned at the pit of your throat, making sure he couldn't hear by removing your finger from the button. You were going to cum to the sound of John's voice and he didn't even know it. It was mildly empowering, feverish, and naughty, all at the same time. *I should tie you down and make you pay for all the wrongs you've committed. Make you confess all of your deepest, darkest secrets.*

"Oh, fuck." You heaved out, not having expected him to blindly play into this raunchy game of yours. The image of him, drowning in your conversations over the radio, as he milked his thick cock, flooded your mind. His button-up would be fully undone to reveal the mess of sweaty abs and tattoos across his torso. His hair would be falling out of its gelled, angelic perfection as strands drifted across his half-lidded eyes. The veins in his forearms would be bulging as he utilized his strength to work at the stress you caused him, in the form of a hard erection. You swore you heard him release some sort of sound from the other side of the radio. You hadn't quite been in the right state of mind to respond, but you were desperate to keep him talking.

"Tell me, John. You make all these promises and you don't keep them." You hadn't expected your words to come out so smoothly, what with your fingers now penetrating you just the way you liked. "If you wanted to punish me so bad, tie me down and make me confess, then you'd have me right this very second."

*I could, Deputy.* He shot out, all breathless and choppy. It only made your imagination run even wilder, that he might be doing what you were thinking he would doing. But he couldn't really be doing that, could he? *All I need to do is say one word and I can have you yanked from my bed in no time.* The thought of him sending in a team to come fetch you was about to do you in. The though of him wasting resources, time and energy, all so that he could alleviate his personal desires. You were about to cum so hard for him, so hard just by listening to his every word. You thought it was over, like his radio would go silent and that would be the end of it all. *But I much prefer it this way...* There was a hint of something deeply sinister in the low growl he spoke in. You wanted more of it, more of him. Your back arched up, and your finger slid over the button unbeknownst to you. He could hear the spill of moans and cries that were building up to the ultimate fall over the peak you had been climbing toward. And then he kept talking. *Seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress. Oh-ho-ho, Deputy~ You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.* He moaned each word with promise. You could hardly hear him groaning and sputtering out curses over the radio as you came on your fingers. You hadn't yet truly realized the sincerity of his words and the trouble that came with them. You were so lost to pleasure and the ecstasy that flowed through your body. The images of John's cum falling onto his sweaty stomach as his body rose and fell with each painful breath. The thought of him losing himself to you in the night, as you spoke to one another, shrouded in darkness, with only yourselves to know of the sins that occurred.

You waited a few minutes, attempting to catch your breath and yourself, coming down from the high that your body had been craving for so long. It was only then, as you had once been blissfully ignorant of the gravity of your situation, that your body jolted up.

But I prefer it this way, seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress...

Oh shit. You fucked up. Your eyes nervously searched the room, even in the darkness, what was there to see. The radio still in hand, you sprinted into the closet and shoved yourself under a set of John's hanging clothes. What were you doing?! Oh shit! You need to run! You need to grab your clothes and your weapons and you need to get out of here. Quick! What did you do?! He saw everything.

Oh-ho-ho, Deputy. You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.

*Oh, Deputy~* He sung with a light chuckle lilting the edge of his name for you. You felt a stain in your chest, of embarrassment, of guilt, of a diminishing pride and self-esteem. *There's no reason to be so shy all of a sudden.* Your forehead hit the palm of your hand.

You needed to react, get the fuck out of dodge, never come to the valley ever again. Nick and Mary and the Pastor had control over the situation, you could just fucking disappear. Why don't you jump into a void? Never return to Hope County even. Just leave forever. Did they make spaceships for extremely scarred and embarrassed common folk who wanted to get the hell off earth? Note to self, ask Hurk if he knows any aliens that could catch you a ride to the nearest infinity away from here. Fuck yourself. Fuck this. Fuck.

You hadn't even realized that John was still talking.

*Because I like you so much, I will even consider this an official confession. Wrath AND Lust.* You could hear the sickening grin of satisfaction. *Who would have thought that my little Deputy was so...* You were so unbelievably fucked. *Sinful?* Gunshots started to sound nearby, coming from outside the ranch, where resistance fighters had gathered to guard the newly acquired outpost. *I know I'm asking too much of you, my darling.* Your jaw dropped at the kindred and sweet way in which he spot the new pet name. *Just rest for now. You must be exhausted from the day's events.* You needed to get out of here, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. You were frozen with a whole course of unsettling emotions. *It's not easy to carry the entirety of a pathetic resistance effort on your shoulders.* And he sounded so loving, so tender, you had never in a thousand years thought you would ever hear John speak to you in such a way. *Don't worry, I will be home shortly.*

Return to Prompts

#john seed x reader #reader #farcry 5 #faith seed #jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed #john seed's ranch #resistance #the project #edens gate #mutual pining

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toosicktoocare · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Your fics are beautiful. May I please request a Buck and Eddie prompt where Buck is having a terrible day (feeling anxious, sad and insecure) and his boyfriend Eddie is the only one that notices and comforts Buck?

hi, this made me a lil sad.

There’s nothing, Buck thinks, that can truly compare to the newfound anxiety that comes at the mere sight of rushing water. It steals his breath, two cold hands wrapping around his lungs, forcing his heart into slow motion. It takes him back; it always takes him back to the first large, swelling wave, to the bodies floating in the water, to Christopher, who, despite everything, kept a brave face when Buck felt like he was ripping at the seams.

He stares at the young girl barely holding onto the life float that’s thethered to a long rope at the back of a boat. Her screams start to sound like Christopher’s screams, and the river water’s rushing too loudly, too close. He can almost feel it pounding against his eardrums, muffling sound around him, all but the screams for help.

“She’s not too far out. We should be able to prep the life raft in time.”

Bobby’s quiet on Buck’s side, and Buck knows why. A girl her age against a strong current, the product of an afternoon storm? Even if they were able to inflate the life raft and get it onto the water, they’d have to take more time securing it, and that’s time that little girl doesn’t have. As it is, her head’s barely bobbing above water, and he parents, thrown close enough to shore when the boat flipped, are understanably hysterical.

“Start prepping the life raft,” Bobby calls out, and while Eddie and Chimney race back to the truck, with Hen trying to assess the parents, Buck takes a step closer to the riverbank, his eyes never leaving the girl’s struggling frame. He can feel the anxiety begin to swell and loom over him, cold, dark, almost suffocating, and every inch of his being wants to back away, to remain safely planted on dry land. But, when the girl’s head dips below the water and doesn’t resurface, when Bobby’s shouting over his shoulder for the others to hurry the hell up, Buck takes a few steps back, briefly works around how quick he’ll have to swim to get to the girl, and then he runs.

“Wait, no- Buck!”

Buck hits the water in a swan dive, and he’s immediately overwhelmed. Water slaps at his face, burns in his eyes, pushes into his mouth, but his legs are already kicking hard, and he’s forcing his arms through strong, gliding motions, just making it to the life float before the current grabs him. He loops one arm through the float and wraps the other around the girl’s waist, pulling her back above the water. She coughs and sputters, and Buck manages a warm smile despite the cold water all around them.

“Hi, I’m Buck! You okay?”

“Tired,” the girl mutters, and Buck nods knowingly.

He can hear the others shouting at the bank, can hear her parents screaming her name. “Suzie, right? Listen, I’m going to do all the work now, okay? You’ve done a fantastic job, but I’ve got it from here. All I need you to do is hang on to me, okay?”

“Okay, Bucky.”

Buck hears that name from one person only, and just as it comes from Christopher’s small voice, the single use of a silly nickname slips past Buck’s rib cage to tighten around his heart. He whips his gaze around, panicked, to see the life raft already hitting the water and starting toward them, secured by a rope tied to the ladder truck.

It takes roughly a minute to reach them, and the second it’s close enough, Buck’s twisting around and lifting the girl up just enough for Eddie to reach over and grab her. He’s pulled up next, and though he wants to instinctively curl up against Eddie, he swallows back that need for comfort and pulls all his attention toward Suzie instead, answering Eddie’s questions about her condition until the raft’s being pulled back onto the riverbank.

It’s not until Buck’s stepping out of the raft, his feet hitting solid ground, that he can fully breathe again. It comes in more of a rough gasp of air, but it’s enough to release some of the tension sitting heavy on his lungs. He watches as Suzie’s parents rush over, the whole motion going by slow and quiet, and then a jacket’s being draped over his shoulders, and he doesn’t need to look to know it’s Eddie’s turnout coat.

He sags against Eddie, and Eddie’s arm wraps around his waist.

“You okay?”

Buck only nods, and Eddie guides him over to the truck.

***

“All changed?”

Buck turns from his locker, slipping his other arm into his jacket sleeve, still feeling a little cold. He nods, and Bobby’s smile drops in the blink of an eye.

“Good. My office. Now.”

“Bobby,” Eddie tries, abandoning his seat on the bench behind Buck. “Is this really necessary-”

“-I didn’t ask for your opinion, Diaz.”

Bobby turns to leave, and Buck winces as the door slams.

“I’ll go with you,” Eddie starts, frowning. “I mean, I agree that what you did was incredibly stupid, but I don’t know that that girl would have made it if you hadn’t jumped in. Surely Bobby knows this-”

“It’s okay,” Buck interrupts, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Really. I’ll be right back.”

“Buck-”

Buck cranes his neck down slightly to brush a light kiss to Eddie’s lips, lingering just for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he repeats, his voice no louder than a whisper, and though Eddie’s eyes look like he wants to say more, he gives with a low sigh.

“Fine.”

Buck smiles, giving Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze, but when he turns away, his smile falters, and he keeps his head low as he climbs the stairs and steps into Bobby’s office.

Bobby motions for Buck to have a seat, but Buck keeps himself close to the door, crossing his arms and dropping his back to the wall.

“How many times are we going to have this talk, Buck?”

Buck frowns. “She was drowning, Bobby. What was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for direct orders.”

“She didn’t have time,” Buck argues. “She-”

“-Insubordination.”

Buck pauses, jaw going slack. “What?”

“I’m contemplating writing you up for insubordination.”

“Bobby,” Buck drags out, pushing off the wall and crossing the office until he’s right in front of Bobby’s desk. “I saved her.”

“You didn’t listen.”

“Look, Bobby, it’s not that I wanted to go against your orders. It’s just... She didn’t have time, Bobby. I had to do something.” Buck swallows thickly, staring hard at Bobby’s tight jaw.

“Listen, Buck. A good firefighter follows the captain’s instructions. I need you to obey my orders, okay?” Bobby’s voice is calm; he doesn’t yell, but Buck’s face still falls, and he breathes a small nod.

“Got it, Cap,” he mutters, glancing to the door. When Bobby nods, he slips out quickly, thankful for the alarm ringing overhead because he’s not sure he wants to smile through the sympathetic looks he’s bound to receive.

***

Buck spent the rest of his calls hesitating, going to dive into action but faltering and waiting for Bobby’s orders, and all the while, he couldn’t shake Bobby’s words from his head: a good firefighter.

He declined going out after their shift, assuring everyone he’s fine and just a little tired from his unplanned swim today, and his drive back to his apartment was suffocatingly silent. All he could hear were Bobby’s words: a good firefighter.

He flops down onto his bed and curls into himself on his side. He’s a good firefighter, right? He saves lives everyday, and yes, he knows he can be a little reckless, but every call is a ticking clock, and with each passing second, they could lose a life. So, reckless is necessary, isn’t it? He’s not intentionally disobeying Bobby, he just-

“Buck? You in here?”

Buck doesn’t move when he hears Eddie’s voice, or when he hears the front door close. He draws his knees tighter to his chest, thankful his back is to the stairs.

“Buck?”

Eddie’s voice is a lot closer now, and Buck can hear the concern so loud in his soft tone. The bed dips at Buck’s back, and Buck sighs quietly when Eddie’s hand finds his hip.

“Are you okay?”

Buck hums a non-verbal affirmative, and he rolls his neck until he’s pressing his face into the bed.

“Want to try that again? You’re a really bad liar, even when you aren’t talking.”

Buck stays quiet, and Eddie stands and walks around the bed until he’s kneeling close to Buck’s face.

“Look at me. Please?”

Eddie’s voice is soft but demanding, and Buck slowly rolls his head until he’s facing Eddie. “Hey.”

Eddie’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hi. What’s going on? You’ve been off all day.” There’s a deep-set crease in Eddie’s forehead, and Buck focuses on that because he can’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“Do you think I’m a good firefighter?”

“What? Yes. Why would you ask that?”

Buck sighs and forces himself into a sitting position, his boots hitting the floor beside Eddie. He hunches forward, dropping his elbows atop his knees.

“Bobby said a good firefighter listens to their captain.”

Eddie frowns and drops down onto the bed beside Buck. “He’s just worried about you. I think he loses a year off his life everytime you throw yourself into danger.” Eddie pauses. “I know I do.”

Buck jerks a heated glare toward Eddie, and he makes to get off the bed, but Eddie yanks tightly at his arm, and he falls back against the bed. In seconds, Eddie’s got him pinned down, his chest flush against Buck’s, and either hand pressed against the bed beside Buck’s head.

“Eddie, I’m not really in the mood-”

“-Yeah, I’m not here for that,” Eddie drags out, voice flat, but just as quickly, it softens. “Do you know what you do every single day, Buck?”

Buck stays quiet, swallowing thickly.

“You save lives. Everday. It’s no ‘them or you’ scenario; it’s always them. Are you reckless? Damn straight. Does it scare the absolute hell out of me? Endlessly. But, at the end of the day, I know it’s our job, and you,” Eddie raises one hand, jabbing lightly at Buck’s chest, “are the best firefighter I know.”

Buck’s eyes sting with tears he blinks back. “Sure that’s not just your bias talking?”

“I know you’re still freaked out by water after the tsunami, and yet, you jumped into that river today to save that girl. That’s what good firefighters do, Buck.”

Buck tries to look away, but Eddie’s fingers wrap around his chin, keeping their eyes locked in place.

“You’re a good firefighter, Evan. I know it. Our team knows it. Bobby knows it. We just don’t want to see you get hurt... again.”

Buck can feel loose tears slipping down his face, small drops clinging to his warm skin, and then Eddie’s dropping his entire body against Buck and tucking his arms under Buck until he’s completely engulfing him, warm and heavy.

“Eddie. I can’t breathe,” Buck tries, and Eddie only squeezes him tighter.

“Tough. I don’t want to see you cry, so you’re stuck like this until you stop.”

Buck breathes out a weak laugh, smiling around his tears when Eddie nuzzles his nose to Buck’s neck. For a moment, all Buck can feel is Eddie’s heartbeat against his chest. He can smell Eddie’s aftershave lingering along his jaw. For a moment, it’s just Eddie, and his tears fade, leaving his cheeks faintly damp.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“Anytime, “Eddie starts, breath warm against Buck’s neck, “Firefighter Buckley.”

#911 fox #9-1-1 #buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #9-1-1 fox #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #emotional whump #emotional hurt/comfort

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teeth-farie · 3 years

Text

Strained Eyes In The Candlelight

Julian/Named Apprentice(GN)

Notes: nonbinary apprentice, named apprentice, pre-plague setting, face sitting, oral, dirty talk, handjobs, 3.8k wordcount

Taglist:

@bluhhhdee (if you don’t want to be tagged in this one anymore let me know!)

The sound of scratching quills and murmured hums are the only white noise in the stuffy chamber, something at least to keep the ringing of silence out of Salem’s ears. They flick through the large, tattered book silently, eyebrows furrowing as they read. Salem remembers reading constantly as a child, yet now it seems like a chore to do. Perhaps it’s the looming threat of death hanging over everyone’s shoulders. Possibilities, possibilities. Dr. Devorak is hunched over his desk, back rounded as he writes quickly, occasionally pinching the bridge of his nose and smearing faded ink from his fingertips onto his skin, unbeknownst to him. Salem closes the book with a sigh and pushes their glasses back up their nose. They’ve gathered all the information they can tonight. They want to start trying magic alongside medical treatments, though they know that Dr. Devorak would be opposed to the idea. “Doctor, our shifts ended.” Salem announces, gesturing to the small clock ticking away.

“Hm? Oh, right.” He hums, though he still stays where he is, never looking up from his work.

“Doctor, did you hear me?”

“Certainly, do what you need to do.”

Salem huffs, taking the few strides the room allows and waving their hand in front of his face. Dr. Devorak jumps up then, a scowl on his lips. “Salem-!”

“You need a break.” Salem cuts him off, hands planted on their hips. Dr. Devorak stares, unwavering, then gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s much to do, I can’t stop now.” He refuses, going to dip his quill back into the jar of ink. “If you’re too tired you’ll mess up. Do you really wish to repeat your work?” Salem quips, gently laying a hand on his wrist, halting his movements.

“I’m not tired—besides, the plague won’t cure itself.”

Time for another approach. Salem rounds back behind him, hands gripping tight on the back of his chair. “What are you—ack!”

Salem pulls and tugs Dr. Devorak from his spot at the desk, scooting him back while still seated in the chair. If one thing’s for sure, Salem is a lot stronger then they let on. “If I have to, I will make you.”

That certainly gets his attention, sitting stiff as a rod in the seat he was just pulled from his desk in, now acutely aware of the situation. Perhaps he was a little too aware—a heat rising to his face. Was it that easy to tug him around? “And how will you make me?” He ponders, looking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Salem.

They can see the bright flush on his face, the lazy grin stretching his lips and they start to think that their actions have given them a different response than what they were expecting. Though, it’s not unwelcome, especially with how much Dr. Devorak had flirted with them on their breaks—they could work with this.

“I had a few ideas, though it seems you may have others.” Salem presses their fingertips to the top of his skull, turning his head back straight, no longer in his line of vision. They lean forward, breath ghosting his ear and Salem can feel the shiver he makes. “I assumed we’d go out for a few drinks, but..” they grip his hair tight now, a stifled groan rumbling from his throat. “If you’re going to be so stubborn, I could just tie you to the bed, how does that sound?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” He downright purrs, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “Though..” Salem trails off, pulling their hands away from him entirely. Julian makes a noise of disappointment. “You’d just ramble then too, wouldn’t you?” They muse, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

“Not if you gave me something to keep my mouth busy.” Julian counters with a slightly slurred tone, low and provocative.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Salem inches their small hand to Julian’s long neck, a contrast of warm golden bronze and cool peach white. He shivers, feeling the fingertips press against his pulse point, firm and assertive. Salem tends to have an air of something domineering around them, wiser than their years in a way that makes Julian feel safe in a way. Perhaps he’ll discover a new side of that tonight. They don’t squeeze as hard as he’d like, just a firm reminder that he should listen to them. Not that he wouldn’t want to.

“You work yourself down to the bone, doctor.” Salem releases his throat, turning to meet him face to face and swinging a leg over his, taking their place on his lap. They’re still shorter than him and Julian hunches down to appear lower. “Let me take care of you.” Salem guides his head down, lower to their face with a gentleness that he could pull away if he wanted to. He doesn’t.

Julian bridges the gap and kisses them with a hunger not fitting his exhaustion, eager hands gripping their waist, long fingers prodding into the plush of their skin. Salem indulges him, keeping a grip on his fiery hair, curls caught tight between their fingers. He tastes of bitter coffee and his breath is a hot flush against Salem’s face. They catch his bottom lip between their teeth when he starts to get too eager, tugging hard enough to draw a petulant whine from the older man. They lick their lips, tugging him back by his hair. “Don’t forget who’s in control.” Salem taunts.

“I don’t want to be in control.” Julian musters after swallowing his complaints of a kiss ended too soon. “I won’t make you. Like I said, I’m taking care of you.” Salem wipes away the small trace of saliva at the corner of Julian’s mouth with their thumb, tender in a way that has him weak.

“I know you don’t like taking charge—you just want to be babied, don’t you?” Salem’s voice has a sweet lilt to it, like they were talking to a puppy rather than a grown man. Julian doesn’t think he’d quite mind being their puppy. He stiffly nods his head. “Don’t worry, when you’re with me, you don’t need to have a thought in that pretty little head of yours, does that sound good?”

Julian feels utterly bewitched, falling into Salem’s grasp willingly and eagerly. It sounds very good, to not be required to think, something that had Julian constantly fretting over. When was the last time his mind had been blissfully empty? No second guessing himself or fearing over things he can’t change—not since before the shipwreck he was sure. “It sounds good, I-I want that,” Julian’s voice comes out breathless, his heart lodged in his throat and excitement buzzing from his stomach to his fingertips.

“You can have it.”

Salem lifts themselves from his lap, unbuttoning the first few buttons of their blouse and loosening the collar. Julian stands, hands at his side as he waits for an order—guidance. The mage gestures to the far side of the room, telling in itself. “Go lay on the bed.”

The bed itself is a lackluster comparison to what it really is, rather stiff and cheap, but that isn’t an issue here.

Julian doesn’t hesitate, nearly stumbling over himself in the process. Salem’s already unlacing their boots, setting them aside by the time Julian’s made himself comfortable, taking off his own. “Have you thought of this before?” They ask, taking Julian’s hand in their own and working off the gloves. His breath catches in his throat. How is he getting so worked up already? “With you? A, uh, a few times.” How eloquent, Julian mentally kicks himself. Then again, he doesn’t have to be.

Salem smiles, setting the leather glove aside and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before moving to the other. “Tell me about it.”

Oh. Oh. Julian feels like he’s going to melt.

“You, you were a little meaner,” he rasps, watching Salem place aside the second glove. “Is this not sufficient for you?” They ponder, tracing the pad of their thumb over his knuckles. “I like this!” Julian immediately blurts, backtracking just a little. “You make me feel...safe.” Loved. He sighs, shoulders slumping forward. Salem holds no distaste in his confession, an expression of understanding. Had any of his other ‘flings’ been this easy to talk to?

“Next time, I’ll fulfill your fantasies. Just for you.” Salem makes work unbuttoning the rest of Julian’s blouse, admittedly easier with how low it usually hung. Next time, it repeats in Julian’s mind.

Julian suppresses a groan, warm hands skirting across his chest as Salem pushes his shirt off his body. “There’s one part,” Julian begins, eyes caught flickering to Salem’s chest as they begin to unbutton the rest of their shirt. “Oh?” They tilt their head just a touch, interest peaked at his half confession.

He nods. “In my, in my fantasy, you had me on my knees,” Salem sheds their shirt, baring their naked chest. Julian stares longer than he thinks is appropriate.

“And I had my mouth on you,” their hands find the laces of his trousers, untying the knot and tugging the band of it down his hips. Julian lifts his hips, assisting Salem’s endeavors of undressing him. “And you—you made fun of me while I did it.”

Salem sets his trousers aside, listening intently in what he had to say. “Is that what you want? For me to tease you?” They unbuckle their belt, sliding it from the loops of their trousers. “Yes.” Julian answers immediately, swallowing at the sight of more tanned flesh becoming exposed. They slide their pants down their hips and thighs, kicking them off next to where Julian’s lay. Now, both lay in their underwear. “Do you want me to take advantage of you? Do you want your only job to be to lay there and take it?” Salem pushes Julian’s knees aside, his gangly legs falling apart and his soul nearly leaves his body when the heel of their palm presses between his legs.

“Yes! Yes I want that—I want all of that,” Salem offers a smile full of teeth and mischief. “You really want it?” They muse, giving his throbbing length and squeeze through his underwear. Julian groans, head lolling to the side, his cheek presses to his shoulder. Salem inches their fingers further down, pressing their fingertips against his clothed taint. A sharp gasp tears from his throat and a pleased smile stretches over Salem’s lips. “Beg for me.”

Julian swallows, finding his voice in between the pitiful noises. “Please, please, I want you to touch me, use me, a-anything—fuck!” A firm squeeze hitches his voice higher in octave, his lower lip catching between his teeth.

“Lay down. I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to put that mouth to work, just like you wanted.” Salem sits back, giving the doctor room to stretch out when he lays back, his head against the pillows where he eagerly waits. His heartbeat thumps in his temples, breath catching in his throat in pure anticipation.

Salem hooks their thumb under the band of their underwear, tugging it down and tossing it aside. Julian’s eyes flick from their face, down their chest, to their navel where a happy trail of dark hair begins, leading down the soft expanse of their stomach and to what lays between their legs. They straddle his chest, a taste of what’s to come as they stare down at him. “Are you ready, Julian?”

He nods quickly, as much as his position allows. “I want you to smother me.” Julian groans, his hands finding purchase on Salem’s thick thighs. They snicker, inching up higher, knees pressing into the pillows on either side of his head. “Dirty little doctor,” they tsk and Julian’s core tightens in impatience. “You’ll get exactly what you want.” Salem sinks down and Julian is all too eager to get started, kissing over their vulva before dragging his hot tongue over it.

Salem grips his hair with one hand, the other bracing against the headboard of the bed frame. They rock their hips against his face, a flutter of heat filling their body. “That’s it,” Salem coos, the feeling of Julian’s tongue pressing against their clit downright addicting. His hands dig into their thighs, pulling them down firmer against his face, eager as he wraps his lips around them and sucks. They reward him with a harsh buck of their hips and a tug on his hair, one that has him groaning into their sex. Julian buries his nose in the thick patch of curly hair, unable to force down the noises of delight that reverberate from his throat. It only adds a bumbling vibration on Salem’s end.

They’ve never been loud in bed, only deep sighs and little noises their partners have had to work for. Conversation, though, is another story.

“Good boy..” Salem’s praise comes out as a purr, their thighs tightening around Julian’s skull like a vice. Even with his ears muffled, the doctor can still hear every little thing they say.

“You must have dreamt about this, huh? Mmm..about being pinned under me, a helpless little thing,” Julian gives his eager agreement in the form of a harsher suck, his tongue lathing over their clit until Salem’s hand starts tugging at his hair almost violently. Shallow breaths puff from his nose and Salem glides their hips down, off Julian’s mouth. He gasps sharply, lips and chin shining with spit and slick.

“Don’t stop,” he croons, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes barely staying open. The glimmer of the dimming candles around the study illuminate from behind Salem, their body casting a shadow over him and outlining their form in a flickering orange halo. Julian’s breath catches in his throat. “Did you want to choke, little man?”

Julian makes a noise of something akin to a dying animal, too caught up in the moment to be properly flustered by the sound. Salem glides their thumb over his wet lip, a flutter of arousal shooting between their legs when he desperately pulls their thumb into his mouth. A low noise escapes Salem, one from deep in their chest at the pure debauchery of the man below their thighs.

“I won’t hold back then,” they swallow thickly as they pull their thumb from his mouth, scraping his teeth as Julian reluctantly releases.

“I never said I wanted you to.” Julian counters, his voice heavy in his throat as the words pass his lips.

Salem doesn’t quite have a playful retort to that, so they grip his hair tight and slide back to his mouth. Julian, far more eager and needy, dives his tongue back in, gliding the hot wet muscle against their sex. He teases the tip of his tongue to their hole and receives a firm tap to his temple in return. His eyes flick up. “Uh-uh, off limits, I’m not into anything going in.” Salem corrects his attempt and Julian focuses elsewhere without complaint.

His tongue glides through their folds, massaging the sensitive flesh in circular strokes before wrapping his lips back around their throbbing clit, the blushing tip resting deliciously on his tongue.

The dull sting of Julian’s nails digging into their thighs is what adds fuel to the fire, his fingers adding reddened indents along the dimples of Salem’s skin. Salem tightens their thighs around his head, the sweaty flesh sticking to the sides of his cheeks and jaw, holding him in tight until there’s no room to budge—Julian’s nose is buried in the thick curls of Salem’s mound, his face damp with their arousal, and the beating of his heart in his ears. He’s getting lightheaded, blocked by soft skin and muscle that form a prison wall around his head; though that implies he’d want to escape.

Julian rubs his svelte thighs together, seeking friction and relief, though he doesn’t dare touch himself—he wants to be a good boy after all. His hips buck slightly, uselessly thrusting into the air as another gush of arousal coats his tongue.

“Mhmm, I’m close. Oh, Julian, this is what you wanted, right? For me to, ah, use you? To cum on that pretty face of yours?” Salem rests their palm on his stomach behind them, leaning back as they give lazy thrusts against his face, watching the way his eyes nearly roll back into his skull. And oh, he whimpers, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyelashes damp with budding tears. A humming, “mhm!” is all he can muster without ripping his mouth away from them.

Salem catches their bottom lip between their teeth, pupils blown wide enough only a slim ring of deep hickory visible. Julian’s mind has long turned to syrupy mush, turning to a one track focus of pleasuring the mage above him.

Salem’s hips start to stall and Julian feels excitement bite through his chest. Their eyes clench shut, lips parted in heavy breaths, the knot deep in their gut finally snapping. Julian sucks them through it, relishing the bitter tang of cum that splatters onto his tongue. His hands finally loosen from their thighs, knobby fingers leaving shaped bruises in their wake.

It takes a moment for Salem to collect themself, finally rising off his face and settling back on the bed by his side. Julian gasps in a breath, chest heaving, coated in a bright ruby blush. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, eyes focusing in and out. Salem guides him up to sit, cooing over the mess they’ve made of him. “Good boy, do you want your turn now, hm?” Their small hand traces down his chest, going with the groan of chestnut hair and down his navel, a shuddering sigh echoing from Julian’s throat in response. “I'm afraid I won’t last,” he warns, sucking in a breath as Salem tugs off his underwear, damp with precum.

Julian’s cock bobs free, smacking against his stomach. “Who said we would stop after you came?” Salem smirks, running a pointed finger up his shaft. A blubbering noise spits from his mouth, hips bucking uselessly. “Oh my,” is the only comprehensible phrase he can muster, leaning his head back against the wall behind him with a thunk. His legs spread, pulling up towards his sides for plenty of room as Salem makes themselves comfortable between his thighs. “Hm, do you have lube?”

“Huh? Oh, by the, by the desk,” Julian gestures weakly to the desk a few strides away, taking the moment to catch his breath. Salem sits up from the bed and finds a small tub of lube by the foot of the desk. ‘Medical Lubricant’ is printed on the front, and they doubt that’s what he had been using it for. They unscrew the top on their way back, scooping out a generous amount and rubbing their hands together. “Medical lubricant, huh?” Salem teases with a grin, wrapping their fingers around Julian’s cock, slowly stroking under the head.

Julian sucks in a breath, fighting the urge to bite down on his raw lip. “It’s, ah, it’s b-body safe,” he defends, gripping under his knees as he holds his skinny legs up. “One of these days I’ll have to give you a thorough examination. I’ll be the doctor for a change, how about that?” Salem circles the flat of their palm over his head and Julian’s stomach tenses, a low keening sound reverberating from his throat. “Ohohh, yes, anything- anything you want,” he babbles and Salem doubles down on their efforts, noting the way his jaw goes slack and stomach crunches with each glide of their palm over his weeping head. Julian leans his head back, neck stretched long as he stares at the ceiling.

“Look at me,” Salem commands.

“I-I’ll cum too quick if I do,” Julian pleads, that knot in his stomach growing tight, heat pooling into his gut and spreading out to every limb.

“Julian, look at me. Now.” Salem forces a strict tone and Julian whimpers, lifting his head up to see the concentrated gaze of the mage. “Good boy,” they coo, their left hand finding his sac, giving a gentle tug while their right digs its thumb under the head.

A full body shudder runs through him, every joint tightening and his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he comes—long ropes of cum splattering onto his stomach and chest, barely reaching his chin. Julian finds himself reaching forward, gripping onto the back of Salem’s neck and pulling them close, lips crashing together in a frantic embrace. Salem’s eyes widen in surprise, before closing as Julian rides out the aftershocks, muffled sobs against their lips. They push their tongue into mouth, gliding against his and licking over the blunt edge of his teeth. Julian sinks his fingers into the curls of their hair, disturbing the already loose bun they had it in.

“Mm, ha-ahh, Salem,” he pulls back with a heavy gasp, thighs trembling. “T-too much, too much,” he begs and Salem only then realizes they’ve still been stroking him. They pull their hand away and Julian breathes a sigh of relief, leaning his head back against the wall. “Oh, oh my,” his chest heaves, body slick with sweat and his own spend. Salem fumbles around the pile of clothes for their handkerchief, wiping off their hands, and starting to wipe down Julian’s chest and stomach. “That was, uh,” he stumbles over his words.

“Good, I hope?” Salem looks up from their lashes at him, giving his thigh a pat of finality as they finish cleaning him.

“Unprofessional,” Julian manages to get out between his stammering. “Not that it wasn’t good! In fact it was really good, but you’re my apprentice, and- and I don’t want to take advantage of you—“

Salem sighs and the action alone takes Julian off guard. “You didn’t take advantage of me, I wanted this. Besides, you weren’t the one in charge, were you?”

Julian slowly shakes his head, bashful.

“We’re both adults, Julian. Technically, this was off the clock.” Salem snickers at the last part, the whole reason they’re here because the doctor wouldn’t take a break. Julian sighs through his nose and chuckles lightly. “I suppose that’s right. But I’d say we did this in the wrong order.”

“What do you mean?” They cock their head to the side.

“I thought I was supposed to take you on a date first.”

Salem snorts and rolls their eyes. “It’s not too late for that,” a devilish smile spreads on their lips. “If you’re still able to walk, that is.”

Julian’s face blooms a bright scarlet, floundering for a moment before a smirk breaks on his face. “Ohoho, you’ll just have to make good on that promise.”

They think for a moment. Was this truly ok? In the middle of the plague, to be seeking comfort in another person, their boss of all people? Salem halts that train of thought before it goes off the rails. They’re being safe, they’re both healthy; what’s the harm in a little fun?

“I just might have to, won’t I?”

#spicy #julian #salem #the arcana smut #original character

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hockeyisit · 3 years

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It'll Be Okay.

Summary: Auston and Amelia talk to their son.

A.N: It’s at the end of the story.

Word Count: 2,472

Masterlist

Auston and I were curled up on the couch as we watched a rerun of That 70s Show. His arm was wrapped around me with his feet stretched out on the coffee table. I leaned into his side turning my head to rest my chin on his chest.

“Are you ready to go up for bed?” I asked, feeling myself growing more tired by the minute. He looked away from the tv to look down at me. His expression softened as he took in my sleepy form.

“Yeah sure. You head up and I’ll be there in a minute,” he said pushing me gently to sit up. I pouted slightly upset he wasn't coming up yet but decided against saying anything. I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips before making my way upstairs. I walked over to Kais bedroom first and knocked. I waited a moment for an answer but after none I knocked again.

“Kai I’m coming in,” I said pushing the door open, only once I was in his room he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s in Noah’s room I thought as I walked out of his room to Noah’s. I knocked before announcing that I was coming in. As I pushed the door open Noah was sitting at his desk working on homework.

“Where's your brother?” I asked once I noticed he was alone. Noah looked up from his textbook with an eyebrow raised.

“In his room,”

“Uh no he's not. Try again,” I said, putting my hand on my hip. He glanced at me, his expression radiating annoyance.

“Did you check the bathroom?” he sassed before holding his hands up defensively when I gave him a stern look.

“He’s not in the bathroom, the door was open,” I walked further into the room.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked again. Kai was never one to sneak out of the house; it was something we expected from Noah but never Kai. Noah nervously reached up to rub at the back of his neck.

“He didn’t tell me where he was going,” he finally answered. I ran my hand through my hair frustrated.

“But he isn’t here?” I asked for clarification. He nodded looking back down at his text book. I sighed as I turned to walk out of his room.

“Tell me if he texts you,” I called out softly as I closed his door. I peeked into Brody and Elsa’s room before heading to mine. I pushed the door open to see Auston sitting on the bed facing the wall.

“Kai snuck out,” I said, causing his head to snap to me.

“Are you serious?” He asked standing up and walking over to me. I sighed as I nodded pulling my phone out. I had made both of the boys share their location with me as part of a deal that they could have a later curfew after Noah's sneaking out got to be too much.

“He turned his location off,” I groaned, turning my phone to show Auston. He took it from my hand and looked at it before closing out of the app to pull up Kai’s contact. He hit call and put it on speaker. It dialled for a few moments before going to voicemail. He hit end call and tried again. When he didn’t answer on the second call I pulled my phone from Auston’s grip and sent him a text.

Where are you

Answer now!

“Does Noah know where he is?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. I shook my head no. Auston glanced at me before marching his way out of our room and over to Noah’s. I followed hot on his heels. He pushed Noah’s door open without knocking causing him to jump at his desk.

“Dude,” Noah whined looking at us. Auston gave him a look that shut him up quickly.

“Give me your phone,” Auston asked holding his hand out. Noah looked at him in disbelief as he held it.

“Why?” he asked.

“Noah,” Auston warned, his hand still held out. Noah reluctantly handed it over.

“What's your password?” he asked, Noah reached out and turned it to face him causing it to unlock.

“What are you doing?” he asked. I looked over Auston’s shoulder as he pulled up Kai’s contact and hit call putting it on speaker. He didn’t answer so Auston repeated the action thankfully on the second call his voice finally came through.

“Dude what do you want?” Kai’s voice rang through the phone breathless.

“Dude you're so grounded,” Auston responded. It was silent for a moment before he silently cursed.

“Get home now,” Auston said sternly, he ended the call and handed Noah his phone back before storming out of the room. The two of us watched as he left Noah looking at me concerned.

“Get some rest alright,” I said tapping his shoulder and then leaving him alone.

“Auston,” I called after his retreating figure. He stopped rather abruptly causing me to slightly run into him. His arms quickly reached out to steady us as he turned to face me.

“I’m just going to wait downstairs for him to get home,” he mumbled as he wrapped me up in a hug. I leaned my head against his chest as I hugged him back tightly.

“I’ll wait with you,” I pulled away and leaned up to peck his lips. I then pulled away completely and ran into our bedroom to grab a blanket before following Auston down the stairs.

“Okay are we playing good cop bad cop? Or are we going to just straight up ask if everythings alright? Is he grounded or?” I questioned once we were both cuddled up on the couch. Auston’s hand reached out to cover my mouth causing me to shut up and stare at him with innocent eyes.

“Shh babe, will just ask him why he needed to sneak out,” he said like it was as simple as that. I raised an eyebrow, which made him take his hand off my mouth quickly and send me an innocent smile of his own.

Around ten minutes later Kai walked into the house looking extremely nervous. He slipped his shoes off before turning around to face the two of us. Auston and I stared at him as he awkwardly stared back.

“Have a seat bud,” Auston finally said, breaking the silence. Kai made his way over and sat on the couch next to us.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked hesitantly.

“I guess that depends on if you can tell us where you were,” Auston responded, moving his arm that was wrapped around me.

“I can't tell you,” he responded looking away towards the ceiling. I held my breath as I turned my attention away from Kai to Auston. It wasn't like him to keep secrets from us.

“And why not? Was it anything illegal?” Auston asked impatiently. A panicked look crossed Kai’s face before he relaxed.

“It wasn't anything bad, I was just with a friend,” he said trying to reassure us.

“Who?” I asked leaning further into Auston. He glanced at me before turning back to Kai. We all sat in silence for another minute before Kai let out another long deep sign.

“I can't tell you,” he whispered, his right leg started shaking causing the couch to shake. I turned to give Auston a questioning look before turning back to Kai.

“And why not?” Auston asked confused.

“I’m bisexual,” he whispered after another few minutes of silence. My head snapped up to face Kia as I took in his words. I turned to Aston with a shocked expression. Out of all the things I thought Kai would say that was the furthest from what I actually thought he would say.

“What?” I asked leaning forward and out of Auston’s touch.

“I I uh, I’m Bi and I’m seeing a guy right now,” he stuttered out rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his lap. Auston’s grip had tightened around me but had slowly loosened as Kai talked to us.

“Oh my god,” I said as I covered my mouth in shock. Kai and Auston both turned to me looking nervous.

“What?” Kai asked leaning forward on the couch.

“Did we just force you to come out?” I asked, latching onto Auston’s leg in guilt. Kai looked at us in shock for a moment before shaking his head.

“No mom. I just haven’t really needed to tell you guys,” he admitted shrugging his shoulders. I glanced over to Auston hoping that I could get some type of reaction from him. He looked more shocked then I did but other than that he seemed fine.

“But now?” I asked.

“Now I do,” he glanced away from me to Auston, who had been quiet the whole time.

“I’ve been talking to someone and I really like them,” he looked down at his feet. “I can’t tell you who it is because they aren't out but,” he shrugged.

“I’m sorry I snuck out,” he finished. Auston burst out laughing causing the two of us to look at him in shock.

“Dude,” I said, elbowing him harshly. Kai looked like he was seconds away from making a dash for it. Auston sobered up quickly as he rubbed his side.

“Sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I promise. Kai no matter who you like or fuck your mother and I are going to support you,” Auston said causing me to gasp loudly as I elbowed him again. Although I agreed with his words I wish he had been a little less vulgar.

“But kid sneak out again and you're grounded for the rest of your life. Also if you're willing to come out and he’s not then he’s not worth your time,” Auston told him gently.

“It’s complicated,” Kai said looking away. I stood up and made my way over to him so I could pull him into a hug.

“Have you told Noah?” I asked, leaving my arm around him. He shook his head no.

“Nobody knows,” he glanced between the two of us.

“I do think you should consider telling Noah because he seemed pretty hurt that you snuck out without telling him,” Auston teased. I laughed lightly as I rubbed my arm up and down his back.

“I do want to tell people I’m just worried I guess,” he glanced down at his hands as he nervously fiddled with his bracelet.

“If I come out and if I make it to the MLB I’d be like the only out player. It would draw so much attention to me and I don’t really want to be known as the gay player. I also don’t want it to negatively affect Noah. If he gets interviewed theyll ask about what it's like-'' he ranted as he fiddled. Auston reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Kai, you're overthinking it. Yeah it might be scary to be one of the only out players but it’s scarier to live in fear. It’s important for you to be yourself and we live in a time where people are more accepting. I get that the lockerooms can still be rough,-” Auston griminaced slightly as he thought back to all the gay slur’s he had heard or laughed at back in the day.

“Be who you are. Your mother and I will unconditionally love you no matter what,” he trailed off. Kai’s eyes filled with tears slightly, he tried to hide it by looking away. I reached out for his other hand.

“Papi’s right,” I squeezed his hand.

“I know that the locker rooms can be really bad sometimes but the leagues are all truly more accepting and we live in a generation now that is trying to change. I’m sorry if coming out to us was scary for you. I truly hope Papi and I haven't ever said anything to make you feel scared to tell us.”

“No mom it wasn't anything like that I promise,” he glanced up at me trying to reassure me. As I went to say more we heard the sound of the stairs creaking. Noah casually making his way down the stairs only to stop abruptly when he saw the scene in front of him. I shared a quick look with Kai and he gave us a nod. I dropped his hand and stood up Auston doing the same. Kai stood up as well.

“Alright will talk more tomorrow. You boys get to bed soon you have school in the morning,” I warned them. They both nodded

“Love you guys,” I told them and pulled Kai into a quick hug before doing the same with Noah. Auston and I quickly made our escape upstairs. I pushed our bedroom door open and Auston closed it behind him. He reached out for me and pulled me into a tight hug. I let out a soft sigh as I wrapped my arms around him.

“What a night,” I laughed lightly as I pulled away to look at his face. Auston sent me a small smirk as he nodded.

“Yeah for real,” he looked like he was in deep thought so I pulled away to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

“Do you think I should make like a big breakfast or something tomorrow?” I asked after the silence went on for a little too long. Auston looked up from his phone with a small frown.

“No,” he mumbled. I frowned as I made my way over to him. He was being more moody than usual.

“What’s wrong?” I sat next to him on the bed causing him to lock his phone.

“I feel like I should have known and I didn’t mean to laugh,” he mumbled as he laid down on the bed. He moved his arm to rest over his face as he thought back to just a few moments ago. His shirt rode up slightly. I reached out and placed my hand on his chest as I leaned closer. I knew that if I didn't say anything it would force Auston to keep talking.

“He looked two seconds away from bursting into tears when I started laughing and I feel really bad,” he continued.

“Babe he was just shocked. You said all the right things and he knows that you are supportive. He knows we love him,” I schooced closer so I could rest my head on his chest causing him to move his arm from his face to around me.

“I’ll make breakfast in the morning,” Auston mumbled. I grinned up at him as he leaned forward to connect our lips.

“Yay,” I said softly as I started to doze off in his arms.

“Love you.”

A.N Hello! Here's just a quick little glimpse into the future of Auston and Amelia! Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. Another thing I want to say is that I myself am bisexual and for a really long time I wanted to make Amelia bisexual because of that but I was never to sure what to do with that because I know a lot of my readers may not be bisexual themselves. So I came up with the idea of one of the twins being bi almost immediately. Anyway I hope it was something yall enjoyed reading. I love hearing your feedback and questions so don't be afraid to send them in! Also thank you so much for all the support I have received in these past few months you guys have really helped me through a really hard semester.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl x reader

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fidothefinch · 3 years

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maybe it's enough (to know that we were here together)

For Dick & Damian Week 2021, day 2: "He's my son!"

I wrote this over the last two hours. Fair warning, it is not proofread. Title from Kina Grannis's "For Now," for fake-deep reasons.

(More warnings: this story strongly features hospitals and difficulty breathing (and poison). Please take care of yourselves and skip it if it will hurt you, especially because of the last year we've all shared <3)

Nightwing woke up with a gasp like it was the first breath he had taken in a long time. He floundered for a moment, instinctively worried he had just surfaced from Gotham’s harbor (it wouldn’t be the first time), but it only took one hard smack of his wrist to recognize the very solid ground beneath himself.

Panting, he leveraged himself to his side to empty his stomach onto the concrete.

Something was wrong. He tried to check his surroundings, but he was only able to make out grey blobs that may have been buildings and wildly swinging lights.

No, they weren’t swinging. That was just his vision.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just will vertigo away. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to; growing up swinging from a trapeze conditioned him to enjoy the swoop in his stomach. But right now, he was either on a boat or drugged.

Sirens doppler-ed towards and away from him, somewhere down below. Definitely drugged, then.

He lifted one hand to his pounding head and was happy to find his domino was still in place. So were his gloves. But when he checked, he was missing an Escrima stick and a handful of wingdings. He grappled with his memory, trying to pull up some idea of what could have happened. A fight, obviously. But was he in Gotham? Blüdhaven? Somewhere overseas?

He flipped to his back and stared at the sky, still breathing like he had just run a marathon. Drawing in air was like drinking through a silly straw. Above him, the sky was a mottled green-black, the wind rolling the clouds inland. The motion threatened to make him sick again. He considered the merits of rolling to his side, just in case, when his eyes caught the flicker of a familiar shape against the clouds.

The Batsignal.

So, he was in Gotham. Now that he thought about it, that felt right. He could recall riding in earlier on his bike, the wind whipping through his hair, weaving through wild traffic. But traffic had been going the wrong way? Everybody had been leaving the island. . .

He sat up suddenly. “Robin!”

Sitting up was a bad idea. He pushed through his temporary blindness to wobble to his feet, anyway. “Robin!” he called again.

Damian didn’t answer. He was nowhere to be found.

More sirens rang down below him, passing in the same direction the last set had. Dick scrambled to the edge of the roof to watch the ambulance pass. What he found took his breath away. Cars lined both sides of the road, all headed toward the bridge that led off the island. All empty, abandoned. There didn’t seem to be a soul in sight, except the emergency response vehicles speeding down the clear sidewalks.

Everything snapped into focus, and Dick’s memory returned. Somebody had called the Gotham PD with a thirty-minute warning before releasing an aerosolized drug into the sewer system. Nightwing had sped into town as quickly as he could, and Batman teamed him up with Robin to cover the south quarter, and they had gotten separated—where was Damian?

Dick leapt off the building, shooting his grapnel as he fell to swing into a perfect arc to the ground. His bike wasn’t within eyesight, so it was too far. He took off, running after the ambulance.

Toward the hospital.

“Sir, you can’t be here.”

Dick had never seen the hospital so busy. Patients were lined up along the walls and hallways, crammed into the rooms like sardines. The staff actually ran between beds, looking haggard and exhausted already. Dick stood out like a sore thumb in his Nightwing gear, but nobody had the time or energy to move him.

Except the head nurse, behind the desk. “You have to leave,” she said. “We don’t have room.”

“Is Robin here?” Dick asked. He had scanned the pinched faces of the patients he passed on the way back into the ER, but nobody was familiar. He was almost thankful; the victims of the poison were sweating profusely and gagged on their own breath.

“I can’t tell you that,” the nurse said.

“I need to know that he’s okay,” he pleaded, leaning into his palms. They had been planted on the desk for stability, but now they were the only thing grounding him in his panic. “Please.”

All of Gotham was supposed to be evacuated, but there were still so many people too slow, too many people without a way off the island. When the threatened poison hit the city, there were too many people left behind. Nightwing had rushed over from Blüdhaven as fast as he could, but by the time he had joined the rest of the Bats it was too late. Half of Gotham was sick. Dying.

And somewhere in the panic, as noxious steam shot from the sewers and spilled from the vents, he had lost Robin.

The nurse studied his face, her lips pursed. “Robin was admitted two hours ago.”

Dick’s knees nearly buckled with relief (it had nothing to do with his legs feeling like jelly). “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Maybe the words were clipped, but he didn’t have time for this.

“No visitors. Hospital rules.”

“He’s just a kid!”

“Then maybe you should have helped him evacuate,” she said, levelling a glare at him that could melt glass. “Instead of encouraging him to run straight into the line of danger.”

Now Dick growled. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I think he’s better off here than with you.”

“He’s my son!” Dick slammed his fist on the counter between them, making the nurse jump. He would have time to feel guilty about it later. “If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll find him myself.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not getting any words out.

“Nightwing!” somebody else called. Dick spun around (too quickly), and another nurse was gesturing quickly behind herself. “I’ll take you to him.”

“Moira—” the head nurse started. But she wasn’t fast enough to catch Dick as he weaved through the maze of gurneys.

The nurse had dark circles under her eyes, and her bun was frayed. “Pediatric wing,” she huffed, already jogging down a wide white hallway. Dick followed, heart racing. “His oxygen was too low. He must have gotten a face-full of the stuff.”

“What does that mean?” Dick asked.

Her face screwed up. “He’s on a ventilator.”

Dick’s heart squeezed in panic at the words. He began to mentally prepare himself for what he would find.

The nurse he was following stopped abruptly, almost making him run into her. She flipped a hand at a set of double doors. “Stairs,” she explained. “You’ll have to go up to the third floor. Room 329.”

Dick didn’t question why she wasn’t coming; she had work to do. He nodded as he pushed through one of the doors. “Thanks.”

By the time he reached the third floor, he could tell that he had been dosed. Maybe not as badly as the other patients there, but three flights of stairs should have been child’s play for him. He arrived to patient hallway sweating and panting too hard, jelly legs making their displeasure felt.

There were doctors and nurses in this wing, too, but they were also scrambling too quickly to give him more than a passing glance. The crammed hallways on this floor were even more disconcerting, because the flushed, moaning faces were those of children.

None of them were the one he was looking for.

He forced himself to slow down, not able to bear the idea of passing Damian’s room and missing him accidentally. When he found room 329, he steeled himself before barreling through the door.

There were two beds crammed inside the small space, made possible only because the beds were child-sized. The smiling clouds painted on the ceiling were a harsh contrast to the dark, noisy machines wound around the beds.

Damian was in one of them.

Dick rushed to his side, sparing barely a glace toward the other child. Damian looked tiny, dwarfed by the size of the gurney and the mouth of the ventilator. His domino was in place, but somebody had flipped the screen over the eyes back, so Dick could see that Damian was asleep. The IV in his elbow connected to several bags, and Dick had no doubt at least one of them was a sedative. They would have to, to put him on the ventilator.

Dick snaked his gloved fingers into Damian’s bare ones and squeezed lightly. Even through the gloves, he could feel the smallest pulse.

He legs threatened to give out beneath him again.

And, well. Then they did.

A passing doctor saw him just as he had sprawled on the floor like a starfish. “Nightwing? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Dick shook his head, gesturing to his chest about the tightness still persisting htere. “Just dizzy.”

The doctor clucked his tongue, reaching out to the chair wedged into the corner. “Think you can get in this chair?”

Dick nodded (a mistake), and with the doctor’s help he was able to slide into the seat. The doctor flit out of the room and returned less than a minute later with a nasal cannula and oxygen tank.

Dick waved it away. “I’m fine.”

The doctor rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh, and I am, too.”

Dick didn’t fight it when she applied it. The steady stream of dry oxygen through his nose was a relief, and his head began to clear again almost immediately. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” the doctor waved.

Dick stopped her on her way out the door again. “Wait.”

She paused, obviously a little irritated at being interrupted.

Dick blushed in apology. “When will he be taken off the ventilator?” he asked, gesturing toward Damian, in the bed.

The doctor only shrugged. “When he’s ready.” And she left, hustling toward her next patient.

Dick pulled his glove off and ran his free hand through Damian’s hair, brushing back the strays. It was still damp with sweat.

However long Damian was asleep, Dick would be there when he woke up.

#dickanddamiweek2021 #dick grayson #damian wayne #batfam #fido writes #dick & damian

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knockknockchicagopd · 3 years

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❛ KIDNAPPED ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @supervalcsi: Yayyyyy requests are open!!! Can I pretty please get random prompt #13 with my man Kevin Atwater? Thank you, so much love!!! 💕❤💕💕

❚❙ Prompts: “You could have gotten yourself killed!” “But… I didn't?”

❚❙ KEVIN ATWATER MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1.2k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

When you woke up this morning and noticed how cold was the other side of your bed, you knew something was wrong. The lack of texts or a call from Kevin was the confirmation. You have been dating for the last three months, but you already know him better than anyone. Whenever he's not working or having a break at Molly's, he is with you. He told you he had to go to see a friend and after that, he would drive to your house. But he never came. That's what took you to the twenty-first District. You didn't know anyone there, beyond what you had heard from your boyfriend, but you were aware of who you were to look for.

Walking to the desk, you waited patiently for the old woman to attend to you. Platt. Kevin had talked about her a lot of times and, in your opinion, she didn't look that grumpy.

“How can I help you?” She asked, putting down her glasses.

“I… I need to… talk with Adam Ruzek”.

She raised an eyebrow with curiosity, quickly noticing your nerves and the way your eyes became crystal, at the edge of the tears. Her gesture turned abruptly, nodding with parted lips before stepping out from the desk to guide you upstairs through a fence. You were almost shaking when you reached the top floor. Recognizing Kevin's best friend instantly, after seeing some pictures together, you ran towards him to wrap your arms around him. You broke into bitter crying, while your boyfriend's partners looked at Platt waiting for an explanation.

“Huh… you okay?” The man asked confused, stroking your back in an attempt to calm you.

Hardly sniffing, barely breathing, you pulled yourself away trying to form a phrase with sense to explain your paranoia. A brunette girl offered you a kleenex, as a blonde one helped you to sit on a chair. Burgess and Upton. You were very sure. The other men at the other extreme of the place were Dawson, Olinsky, and Voight.

“I am… Kevin's girlfr—girlfriend. I think he's missing”.

You cleaned the tears wetting your cheek, while Kim squatted close to you. Everybody was confounded and disconcerted because of your affirmation. Because of both.

“He texted me telling me he'd go to see a friend and the—then... he'd come to my house. But he didn't come. He didn't text me or anything. I… I know how it sounds. I know it sounds crazy, but… he never shut his phone off…”

“What hour was when you talked to him for the last time?” Ruzek whispered thoughtfully.

“Eight o'clock”.

“Hm…”

Your eyes went straight to the sergeant, to his boss. He saw the desperation in your eyes. He saw you were telling the truth and, for him, it was strange that Kevin hadn't come to work yet. It was almost ten in the morning.

“Burgess, stay with her and give her something warm to drink. Everyone else; I want Atwater's phone and car signal. Let's find him”.

Soon, the whole department was patrolling the city, even looking under the stones. Officers walked from one place to another making phone calls, checking security cameras, triangulating every move Kevin could do last night… Anything to locate him and bring him back. Apparently, all his friends agreed with your paranoia, turning it into reality when Adam received a call on his undercover phone. But Burgess didn't let you hear it, closing the door after abandoning the small kitchen separated from the work zone.

You were a bundle of nerves not being able to stop sobbing, feeling a strong headache growing in the center of your forehead. Just by thinking that something had happened to him, the pressure within your chest contracted your lungs and closed your throat. No one noticed before you did. What if you hadn't given it any importance? Sitting on the sofa and nailing your elbows on your lap, you covered your face with both hands. You couldn't hold the furious and frustrated tears for any longer. Even if you didn't have a reason to, you were feeling guilty.

The incertitude was driving you crazy as the hours continued passing away without any news about Kevin. You could see his Unit working through the large window, trying to read lips to figure out what was happening. But nothing. You were good at serving drinks, not being a detective. The sensation of being useless was killing you. The only thing you wanted to do was to help, but Kevin's boss asked you to wait there for them before leaving the building.

It's almost noon when you hear voices and steps again coming closer, going upstairs. You can't help but jump from your seat to open the door of the kitchen, trying to recognize Kevin's voice, but you don't. Their partners appear on the scene with satisfied smiles on their faces and you don't know what it means until they open the way for your boyfriend, walking behind them. He looks exhausted, but he isn't hurt. Your lips start to tremble about to cry when he raises his eyes towards you and you can't feel your heart stopping for a second.

Taking some steps closer, you don't question why their friends leave you alone continuing their way through another door at the right of the stairs. You want to say sorry for coming to the District because maybe a call would be enough, but you couldn't wait. Even so, you're aware that if it hadn't been for you, he probably would be missing yet.

“I was worried”. You babble rubbing your hands and biting your bottom lip.

But Kevin doesn't reply, going straight to you to place his arms around your body, embracing you with the strength he has left after all that has happened. You break into a soft cry, a happy one for finally having him back. Safe and sound.

“It's okay, baby… It's okay”. He whispers trying to comfort you, tilting his head to place some kisses on your temple. “I got you really spoiled, uh…? I don't text you and you think I've been kidnapped”.

Gulping a loud laugh, you nod pulling yourself away a little. Luckily, you weren't wrong and his friends didn't think you were crazy.

“Why did you go alone? You could have gotten yourself killed…”

“But I didn't”. He jokes drawing a funny gesture, turning it after in a brief smile. “You were protecting me, weren't you?”

“Kev… I just…”

“You did the right thing coming here, okay? I'm not angry, or upset”.

Your boyfriend cups your cheeks onto his palms, leaning forward to press his lips on yours, pecking them once and once before spreading kisses all around your face.

“Lemme take you home, alright? You've earned all my attention for today”.

“I will take care of you today”. Shaking your head as you sniff, you hug him again as much tightly as you can, not wanting him to be separated from you another time. “I… I love you, Kev”.

“I love you too, (Y/N). You can't really imagine how much. What you've done today… I'm sure other girls would've thought I just ghosted them. But you came here and put my friends to work”.

“I'm more like the psychotic kind of girlfriends”.

“Yeah, you have mobilized more than eighty cops to find me. Should I be scared?” The jokingly on his voice, while he raises both eyebrows, makes you laugh cleaning your tears with the fist of your sleeves.

“Maybe just a little…”

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #kevin atwater #kevin atwater x reader

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poetrusicperry · 3 years

Text

A Meddling Friend

charlie dalton one shot

word count: 2,380

warnings: none

notes: soooo i wrote a matchmaker!charlie one shot because i felt like it heh (also there is no way charlie isn’t the best matchmaker around tbh)... here it is (:

A Meddling Friend

When Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton set out to do something, hardly anything could stand in his way. A meddler by plain terms, Charlie butted his way into any situation, whether he saw a benefit in it for himself or for others. Oftentimes, Charlie’s triumphs would stem from wanting to succeed. In what? The possibilities were endless. He had once convinced his entire chemistry class to fudge their hardest experiment of the year (“Look, the teacher can’t possibly fail all of us; a failure on all of us means gigantic failure on him,” he’d said pointedly), he’d tricked his younger sister into begging their parents for a dog, despite her allergies (when asked about why he didn’t just ask his parents for a dog, he claimed they were much more inclined to appease his sister), and he’d smooth-talked his way into a date to the Ridgeway Junior Prom at a diner in town on a dare (“Now I have a hot date and five bucks from all of you”). His successes were plentiful, and there was no end in sight.

So when Charlie had endured months of secret glances between his best friend, Neil, and Neil’s roommate, Todd (not to mention the awkward, weighted silences and painfully obvious unsaid words), Charlie decided to do what he did best: meddle.

The leaves were in their adolescence on the trees; varying shades of orange and red made campus seem ablaze. Charlie would find himself, on multiple occasions, staring out the window when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. Today was no different– the leaves were beckoning, and Charlie’s eyes sat fixed upon them until he heard his name being called from the front of the room,

“Mr. Dalton?” being at the back of the room, everyone turned in their desks to look at Charlie.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, unfazed. Dr. Hager had begun to go into detail about the question he had just asked Charlie, but Charlie’s gaze was, again, caught. This time, by Todd, who was the only person not looking at Charlie; Todd was looking at Neil. Charlie hadn’t heard a word his teacher had said, more focused on the fact that Todd was gawking at Neil and Neil didn’t even seem to notice. Rolling his eyes at Charlie, Richard Cameron (Charlie’s roommate), raised his hand to answer the question Dr. Hager asked.

“That’s a demerit, Mr. Dalton,” Dr. Hager deadpanned before calling on Cameron. After everyone had turned back around to face the front of the room, Charlie sat forward in his seat, watching Todd, who was still looking at Neil. Upon dropping his pencil, Neil bent to pick it up, locking eyes with Todd on his way back to sitting normally. A smirk played on Charlie’s face when Todd’s face flushed as he turned back toward the front. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Neil’s cheeks had also turned slightly cherry-colored as his eyes darted back to his notes. Charlie sat smugly back into his chair and began to hatch a scheme in his head. If he could just get them to admit their feelings for each other, the world would be a better place.

A few weeks prior to the day, Charlie had caught Neil drawing a heart around Todd’s name in the margins of a trig textbook. A few days before that, Todd had read an original poem out loud in their English class that was so clearly about Neil it was painful (“Richest coffee eyes / That paint the stage wonderful”).

Charlie didn’t dare bring up the subject with any of his other friends, but once alone with Neil after Chemistry, he began to work his magic.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked Neil, nudging him slightly as they walked down the hallway.

“What?” Neil returned, confused.

“You dropped your pencil during chem. I’ve never seen you do that. So that either means you were distracted by something, or you were falling asleep, which means you haven’t been sleeping well because you’re stressed out. Which is it?” Charlie prodded, looking at his friend as they continued down the hall, “Come onnnnn, Perry,” he goaded, elbowing Neil, who sighed in exasperation.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” Neil groaned, adjusting his books in his arms and casting a nervous look at Charlie.

“Lie to anyone else, Neil. Anyone else but me. It’s just embarrassing at this point,” Charlie smirked, “And offensive.”

“It’s just… the play. It’s hard to memorize without help,” Neil sighed before turning to Charlie, “You could help? Do you want to help me, Charlie?” Neil said excitedly. Bingo, Charlie thought.

“I’d really love to, Neil, but I’ve got some Latin stuff with Meeks for the next few days,” Neil sighed, “I do, however, know someone who can help you,” Charlie finished, pleased with himself.

“Who is it?” Neil cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if you know him, but I’ll just tell him to meet you somewhere tomorrow? What time?”

“How do I know this guy isn’t crazy?”

“Again, I’m hurt. You don’t trust me to put you into good hands?” Or Todd’s hands, Charlie thought, laughing to himself.

“Of course I trust you, Charlie, it’s just… I don’t know, I’m stressed out, and my father is all over me, I just need some help. If you know someone who can help, I’m more than willing to accept. I don’t mean anything bad by my reactions, I promise.”

“I know you, don’t, Neil,” Charlie clapped Neil on the back, “At the dock, tomorrow at 4. He’ll be there,” he looked at Neil, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Charlie smiled as they made their way onto the landing of the boys’ floor.

After parting ways with his friend, Charlie bursted the door to his own room open, startling Cameron, who was sitting at his desk studying.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared me half to death,” Cameron clutched his chest.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Charlie smirked, jumping into bed (with his shoes still on). He turned onto his back and put his hands behind his head, crossing his outstretched legs.

“Can you look at this trig, see if it makes sense?” Cameron asked, holding his textbook up to Charlie.

“At any other time, any other day, and in any other circumstance, I totally would, but I have some things to plan. Sorry, Cameron,” Charlie shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Come on, Charlie. I rarely ask you for help, and the one time I do, you won’t do it?” Cameron groaned. He opened one eye at the redhead across the room.

“Trust me when I tell you, the thing I’m planning is a lot more important than trig,” Charlie shot Cameron a knowing look, then closed his eye again, beginning to visualize and scheme as his roommate huffed a sigh and turned back around to his desk.

The following day brought giddiness for Charlie; he’d gotten Neil committed to going down to the docks, now he just needed to get Todd alone. The only thing Charlie was still figuring out was how. Todd was the biggest introvert Charlie knew.

Charlie’s proclivity for picking up on the ins and outs of his best friend had led to having more insight into Todd as well. Todd Anderson was new to Welton this past fall. And he was Neil’s roommate, so by association Todd had slowly, but surely (and slightly excruciatingly) joined Neil and Charlie’s friend group. He mostly listened and watched, but always sat near (although not too near) Neil when they were hanging out.

Since they were kids, Neil had always been personable; every new thing he learned about a person, would be spun in a positive way, even if the trait was inherently “bad.” He and Charlie would spend hours talking about people, but not in the “let’s gossip” kind of way– they both found a lot of intrigue in the general population. Even as children they were constantly surveying their peers in a way normal children wouldn’t. When Neil had met Todd, it was no different; he would go on about his sandy-haired roommate for ten minutes straight without taking a breath. Why Todd had transferred schools, where his family is from, what kinds of activities he liked. Charlie found the answers to these questions interesting, but perhaps nothing was more intriguing to him than the fact that Todd had willingly shared all this information with Neil. From what Charlie had experienced, Todd was not a talker, and would rather sit in a painful silence for hours on end than open up to the friend group or start a conversation… but he was doing so with Neil. Granted, Neil asked a lot of questions, but Todd seemed comfortable enough around him to share. That was the first thing Charlie noticed between the two of them, and the catalyst that had sparked Charlie’s master plan of getting them together.

After breakfast, which entailed a small conversation about Playboy models, gross scrambled eggs, and of course, a silent Todd, Charlie hung back to catch the boy before he slipped away to the dorms before class.

“Hey, Anderson!” Charlie called, jogging after him. Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“H-hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Um, s-sure?”

“I’m meant to help out one of my friends with his poem later, but I have Latin tutoring with Meeks, and I figured since you’re so good at it, you could meet with my friend to help him out?”

“I… I don’t know, Charlie,” Todd knitted his eyebrows at the idea of meeting and talking to who he thought was a perfect stranger.

“It’d really mean a lot, Todd,” Charlie pulled his most innocent face and looked at the boy in front of him. Todd was quiet still, “Listen, if you really don’t want to, it’s no sweat. I just figured I’d ask you since you’re so good at writing,” Charlie smiled small, not wanting to push Todd that far.

“I… um, no I-I”ll do it. Where?”

“Ah, Todd you’re a lifesaver! It’s 4p.m. at the dock. You’re sure you want to?”

“Yeah, just… tell your friend I’ll be there,”

“I will, thank you!” Charlie called, backing away from Todd and turning away to head to class. I won’t be telling anyone a thing, Charlie grinned to himself, feeling pleased.

When the clock read 3:56, Neil began to get nervous. No one had shown up. Was Charlie pulling his leg? I’ll give them five more minutes, Neil thought, sitting criss cross on the dock and twiddling his shoelace between his fingers. His “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” script sat on his lap, frayed edges and all.

4:04, Neil sighed, looking at his watch. Just as he was calling it curtains for Charlie’s friend, Todd, flush-faced and sweaty, was making his way over to him. He was looking down at his shoes, careful not to stumble,

“H-hi, sorry I’m late, I got stuck in the dining hall behind–” he looked up to see a confused Neil. Neil’s disorientation spread to Todd’s features, “Neil?” he whipped his head around both ways to make sure someone else wasn’t coming.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Neil stood up from the dock, dusting off his pants and clutching his script apprehensively.

“I… um, I’m supposed to meet… Charlie’s friend… he needs help with–” Todd trailed off, looking at Neil quizzically– “Wait, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m… supposed to meet Charlie’s friend… he’s supposed to help me rehearse lines…?” Neil’s voice upticked at the end of the sentence, confusion prevalent between the two of them.

“Wait, you’re supposed to meet Charlie’s friend, a-and I’m supposed to m-meet Charlie’s friend, too?” Todd shook his head, unbelieving. Neil’s face changed on a dime, a green light going off over his head.

He smiled slightly and huffed a laugh, “I think we’ve been made, Todd,”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I think we’re meeting… exactly who we’re supposed to be meeting,” Neil blushed, looking at Todd, whose cheeks were rosy from rushing over to the dock (and probably at the situation, too).

“We’re… you’re the friend that needs help with poetry?”

“Todd, I think Charlie meant to get us here alone…” Neil looked to Todd, fidgeting even more with his script.

“W-well why would h-he do that…?” Todd chewed his bottom lip. Neil shut his eyes, almost as if the next thing out of his mouth would cause endless pain. He breathed an unsure sigh,

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Todd, “Charlie knows I have the biggest crush on you, and this was his way of making me make a move,” Neil’s cheeks were a deep crimson.

“You have a-a crush o-on me?” Todd gestured to himself, bewildered. Neil grimaced and nodded, squeezing the script tighter than before, averting his eyes, “Oh…” Todd’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around them once again, “I… are you sure?” Neil sighed again and sat back down on the dock.

“Yep,” he looked at his hands, the script clutched tightly between them, “I’m sure,” he sounded tired all of sudden. Todd stayed frozen for a few seconds before he trudged over to Neil’s slumped body and sat down carefully beside him.

“I guess Charlie’s g-good at this thing, then,” he laughed incredibly lightly.

“What do you mean, why?” Neil cast a glance up at Todd before looking away again.

“I don’t know… b-because I like you, too,” Todd mumbled.

“What?” Neil looked at him again, not daring to turn away this time.

“I like you… t-too,” Todd’s volume stayed the same. Neil raised his eyebrows, his eyes searching Todd’s.

“Really? This isn’t some prank that Charlie is pulling? You’re being serious?” Neil interrogated, his hands still wrapped around his script. Todd just nodded, earning a huge grin from Neil. Silence fell over the pair and their newly learned information, but when Todd spoke, his conviction surprised even himself.

“So can I help you read lines?” Neil’s smile was vibrant.

“I think I’d love nothing more.”

Charlie watched from his dorm window, smiling as the two boys sat down to read lines. He climbed down off of the windowsill and dusted his hands off, another victory in the books.

#charlie dalton #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #angelina writes #dead poets society

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scandeniall · 3 years

Text

story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu imagine #suna imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu headcanons

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yoditorian · 3 years

Text

lacuna- part 3

din/reader

she’s dropping early because i have no patience and i’m extremely proud of the last 2/3rds of this. thanks as always to my darling @brothersdrxke for being encouraging and yelling with me 💛

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swears, overuse of italics, discussion of violence including graphic injury, mentions of scars (causes not discussed), one use of ‘their’ as a pronoun for reader, usual poetic smut, 18+ no babies thanks

You didn’t think you’d be back here.

Maybe ever, but definitely not after only a couple of years, and your smile is tight as you flick the lever to lower the small freighter’s boarding ramp. You’re sure it won’t come back if you drop it.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Qin’s teeth are sharp in his own smile.

“You’re not.”

His snarled response is cut off by Ran’s booming laugh before it starts. Your old boss claps him on the shoulder, saying something in lieu of a real greeting about how he’s missed your jokes. It’s a little tense, the way the men take you in for a moment. You didn’t wear your uniform, there’s not a thing on the ship that points any fingers towards the Rebellion, but it’s clear you’ve done well for yourself since leaving. Something they clearly have not, judging by the holes in the jacket tied around Qin’s hips.

“Thanks for letting me stay, system hopping takes a lot longer when your hyperdrive’s busted.” You relax a little, let your shoulders drop, let them think you’re more than comfortable under their scrutinizing gazes.

“We’ve probably got something laying around here you could use. For a price, of course.” Ran grins, in that predatory way that he always has. He seems so unassuming, but you know different. You know better.

“Your prices always land me on the wrong end of a blaster. I’ll take my chances in open space, thanks.”

He laughs heartily again, and you can breathe. At least they seem to believe you.

Ran had offered you your old room, something you’d graciously thanked him for, and left you to it. The station seems to run the same, more or less. He hasn’t hired anyone in your place, or in Din’s for that matter, but it’s difficult to find somebody without loyalties to any one side of the war. Leaving the spots open for now is probably safer for him. You’d raised a hand in greeting to Xi’an when you passed her in the hall, she’d hissed in return but any time she didn’t threaten to cut you is always a win. So at least you’re still in somebody’s good graces here.

Still, good graces don’t last long. And neither does your patience. It’s only a few hours into the night cycle on the station when you creep out of your room and towards the main hangar. Your old workspace looks exactly the same, a few bits and pieces missing, but mostly untouched by time and sticky fingers. Good. It takes less than an hour to completely gut the bench. Every single old motivator, circuit board, gear, and valve packed up neatly in the cargo hold of the ship. There’s still larger engine pieces that the base mechanics are in desperate need of, but Shara’s working on that lead. You find a black marker lying on a nearby workbench and draw a big smiley face on the dulled metal. For good measure.

It’s with a deep breath, and a prayer you never have to return, that you maneuver your ship up and out of the station. You ease it into lightspeed, the definitely-not-busted hyperdrive humming, and disappear.

“Did you think I don’t keep tabs on people, Mando?”

Din would rather go swimming on Mustafar, or get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, or be literally anywhere else in the galaxy than the hangar on Ran’s station. How he’d even known he’d joined the Bounty Hunters’ Guild is a mystery to him, but the call came through nonetheless. The new representative on Nevarro, a very theatrical man if their short contact was anything to go by, had popped up in the holo-com display talking about a special assignment and given him coordinates he knew all too well. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“You know, Xi’an’s still broken up about you leaving. Convinced herself that you and the pilot organised it, that you’re holed up somewhere together. But we both know that’s not true.”

Din says nothing. He doesn’t need to, Ran’s tone leaves nothing to be discussed. Whether he knows for sure that you went straight to the rebels or not, he has his suspicions. Xi’an can think whatever she likes, he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to deal with her trailing after him like a lost puppy anymore.

“They said you have a job for me.”

Ran gestures out for him to follow, leading him to a desk he knows all too well. Your workstation was always cluttered, always a tangled heap of wires and unidentifiable spare parts. Organised chaos, you said, it was about the piles. Except it’s been completely cleared out. There’s shelves underneath that he didn’t even know existed, and a big smiley face drawn carefully on the worktop. Din turns his head towards Ran, a wordless question.

“We had a visit from our old friend, a favour done out of the kindness of my heart. So imagine my surprise when we all woke up to find their room empty, and my hangar pillaged.” Ran’s laying it on thick, thicker than usual. Pillaged is a strong word, it’s clear you only touched your own bench, those parts belong to you as far as Din’s concerned. But it’s not his concern that’s the problem.

“So, what’s the job?” He doesn’t feel like playing games anymore. He doesn’t see what any of this has to do with him anyway.

“I’m putting a bounty on that little thief, it can be yours or it can go to the Guild. Or,” Ran hesitates, watching the way Din’s shoulders tense, “You can help me out. Help me with this one thing and I’ll drop it.”

Din doesn’t even ask what he needs to do, he only nods and finds himself trying his best to tolerate Qin’s chatter from the Crest’s passenger seat while he flies.

It should worry him, that he didn’t even consider his own safety. But something about it feels right, he’s sure he’d put anything on the line if it meant you were safe.

It’s almost boring, standing guard at the door as Qin ransacks some official’s office on a planet he’s already forgotten the name of. Ran mentioned something about a trade agreement, although given the largely illegal nature of his dealings it doesn’t take a genius to work out exactly why something like that would have been refused by any law abiding citizen. Although law in the Outer Rim is generally subjective to everyone’s personal code.

“One more office and we’re done.” Qin assures him as he exits the upturned office, pressing a drive into Din’s gloved palm. He pockets it without question, experience has taught him that wasting time asking will only get them in trouble.

Trouble seems to find them anyway. It always does.

He races through the beige hallways, following the blinking dot on the display of his vambrace with Qin hot on his heels. The security guards aren’t fast, they aren’t even armed, there’s no point in shooting when the two of them so clearly have the upper hand. Until a burly Trandoshan leaps out of a doorway and tackles Qin to the ground. But Din doesn’t look back, he just presses forward to the Crest.

Din hightails it out of there, jumping to lightspeed still in atmosphere. Just in case. And breathes his first sigh of relief since he stepped onto the station. He’s not sure what’s on the drive, honestly he doesn’t want to know, and he just hopes it’s important enough to Ran that he might overlook the tiny detail of leaving Qin to the guards.

Ran only seems mildly annoyed that Din comes back alone, more interested in the drive dropped into his waiting hand, and agrees to forget about setting a bounty. So long as you don’t turn up on his doorstep, lie, and steal from him again. Din promises to pass on the message.

You’re on Tatooine, arguing with a scrapper in Mos Espa over the price of a rusted laser cannon, when he finds you. The scrapper quiets when he appears over your shoulder, and nods reluctantly at your suggested fifty percent of the asking price. It’s hot and you’re tired, you don’t have the patience to pretend to be surprised when you turn to see him standing behind you.

“Help me with this?” You ask. Din watches a bead of sweat drip down your temple, tries not to wish it was his tongue instead, and nods wordlessly.

Between the two of you, you manage to haul the cannon to your docking bay and roll it up the loading ramp. Only once it’s secure in the hold do you take a moment to survey his armour, the way you did last time.

There’s no obvious new scratches, although the dust on this rock of a planet will dirty anything in a matter of seconds, but you find yourself relieved by the familiarity of his dark red armour. Nothing has been replaced since the last time you saw him, it seems. You’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re stealing from our old boss now?” Din’s voice breaks your careful study of his armour, and your brow furrows. You thought he might understand, out of everyone in the galaxy, but you don’t even know how he found out.

“We’re in a war.”

“You’re in a war.”

Your eyes snap up to his visor, and he has to physically plant himself so he isn’t rocked back by the intensity of your stare. You find his eyes every time, you always have. But yours have never held such a cold fury for him than they do now. It’s kind of terrifying, it’s kind of beautiful.

“This is not about me. This is so much bigger than just me. You may have grown up underground learning how to kill people with your thumbs but I grew up under imperial rule. I grew up building parts for star destroyers and running messages for rebels. All I know is this fucking war.” You’re rambling but you don’t care. He has to know, he has to understand that this is what you do now. The last couple of years have been the best of your life, you’ve found a purpose. Something that makes you want to get out of bed in the mornings and reluctant to go back to it at night, you’ve thrown yourself into the brewing fight and it feels like you were born for it. The names of all the friends you’ve lost to the Empire sit heavy on your tongue for every TIE you take down, every supply you steal, every bit of intel you scrape together. It’s for them, it’s for everyone who came before, it’s for everyone who will come after.

Din says your name softly, but the tears are falling and you can’t stop.

“I’ve been fighting my whole life so kids in the future don’t have to live the way I have. I think a few spare parts are worth that.”

You tell him your whole story, standing there awkwardly in the belly of the freighter. You tell him about the messages you ran between workers who resisted, who rebelled, who heard whispers of uprising and felt the roar of hope in their chests. You’d started young, too young really to understand the danger of what you were doing. But what about being young on Corellia was not dangerous? You tell him how the group started to grow, branching out from your factory line to the docks and the mechanics and further. The way they started to include you more as you got older, planning and whispering in darkened corners and safehouses away from the ears of the Empire.

Not that it did anyone any good in the end. You tell him how they stormed the house one night. No warning, no whispers. Blew the door out of the wall and started shooting. So you’d started running. Nothing but the blanket from your bed, the one you’d had since you were a child, around your shoulders and a younger girl’s hand in yours. You’d almost gotten her to the loading docks. To safety. Almost. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when the blaster bolt split her head open, but you’d left her where she fell and kept running. You tell him how you dove into the first open cargo bay you saw and hid. For days. How you’d cried when you felt it finally lift from the bay. How it had been Ran’s ship, one of his first trades. You hadn’t had the courage to leave the station until somebody had shown you it was possible.

Din doesn’t interrupt once. He only watches. Watches as the tears stop streaming, as you pull yourself back together again. He’s sure you didn’t want him, anyone, to see you so vulnerable. You’ve always had that mask of quick jokes and bright smiles, it’s only now that he realises it's a mask, and it’s oddly fascinating to watch you piece it together. You wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket until there’s no trace of your tears and take a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, it’s as though you never cried at all.

Even so, the bags under your eyes don’t lie. He’s sure he’s got a pair to match.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks quietly, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was concerned about you. But you do know better.

You shoot a glance over to the freighter’s sorry excuse of a bunk. It’s even worse than the last one he took you in, although you’re not sure he’s suggesting a good fuck will get you off to sleep. It’s very pointedly not been touched, starched sheets still stretched military-tight over the mattress. Not that it’s much of a mattress.

“Let’s find a room somewhere. I think a real bed might do us both some good.” He makes it sound like an offer, but you know it’s non-negotiable. And deep down, you really could use a good hour or two before you have to fly back to base. The pilot’s seat is definitely more comfortable than the bunk, just about. You dip into the cockpit at the last second to snag your old blanket. For comfort’s sake.

There’s not a lot in the room that an older Twi’lek woman hands you the keycard to. Only a desk with a chair, an attached refresher, and a small bed. But it’s big enough for the two of you. The suns start to dip below the horizon, and Din finally reaches out to touch you. Just barely, just a light stroke of his fingers along your shoulder. But it’s enough to convince you to take a shower, you’re sandy and sweaty and tired and it’ll take more energy to argue than it would to just take the shower.

You’re in there for longer than you intended, zoning out as your eyes lose focus of the little square tiles on the wall, and it’s dark outside by the time you’re dried and dressed in the spare clothes you keep in your go-bag. Din’s pulled blinds shut, locked the door, and piled his armour carefully on the desk. The ancient wood creaks under the weight of the metal. The man himself is lying spreadeagled on the bed, in only his underclothes and his helmet, the dull light from the single bulb in the refresher reflects off of his visor when he turns to look at you. It might make you laugh if you weren’t so tired.

“Better?”

You nod. Of course you feel better, anyone would after scrubbing what felt like an inch thick layer of sweat and sand off of their skin. You smell of the pleasantly neutral soap from the dispenser and, for the first time in days, you think you can breathe again. Although the weight of exhaustion threatens to drag your bones through the floor.

Din pulls himself to stand with a low groan, shoulders protesting when he rolls them, and tucks the sheet back far enough that you can get in comfortably. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s laid your blanket out beneath them, a thought that sits jagged in your throat. He approaches you slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast. But you take his hand the moment he offers it and leans around you to switch the fresher’s light off, let him lead you back to the bed, and follow him down onto it.

There’s the barest sound of metal brushing against his hair as he pulls the helmet off and sits up for a moment to set it down on the floor.

“Din?” Your voice is quiet, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled in the room, but it makes him shudder all the same. He returns to you, tucks the blankets up around you both, and tugs you into him. The Armourer’s words, the ones that swirl in his head every time he thinks of you like this, are silent. Din finds he’s not even a little bit guilty.

Warm fingers trace your body, soft over your exposed skin, light as they dip under your shirt. He says nothing, only traces the scars on your back, on your sides, along your ribs. He doesn’t ask how they got there, running his touch along the raised marks you’ve collected through your life and leaving goosebumps in his wake. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so empty.

You shift further into the warmth underneath you, a vain attempt to keep a hold of the last few dregs of sleep. But you feel rested, at least. That’s not something particularly familiar, and you bask in the feeling. A hum rumbles beneath you. Oh, that’s where you are. You’re not embarrassed, or shocked, like you thought you might be if this ever happened. If you ever thought it possible he wouldn’t leave you to wake up alone. But Din is solid under your head, under your arm, the soft fabric of his shirt clutched in your fist. He’s speaking softly, coaxing you from dreams. It’s still dark as anything when you finally open your eyes, so it can’t have been more than a few hours you spent snoozing.

It’s his story, you realise when your brain finally kicks into gear. He’s whispering about the memories he has from before, his parents. You’d always assumed he was born and raised Mandalorian, how he carries his Way so heavily on his shoulders, but the shake in his ribs as he recounts them tells you all you need to know. Your fist tightens in his shirt when you shuffle a little closer, press your face into his shoulder, a little more over the top of him. A human blanket.

Din likes it, the weight of you on him, your body helps him to keep focus. He never thought he’d tell anyone what happened to him. A dirty secret to be kept hidden away. But something about you pulls it out of him, something about the peace he’s created here with you in this little room makes the truth ease its way out of his throat. You’re not the only one who felt the wrath of the Empire as a child, you’re not the only one who wants it gone, he needs you to know that.

It breaks something inside you, to hear him so clearly struggle through the details of the attack and his rescue, and you can’t help but push yourself up further. Unwrap your hand from his shirt to find his cheek, press your lips to his softly, slowly. He’s suffered enough. You need him to know that you’re here, you have him. You’ll always have him. You let him lose himself in your body, and maybe your heart. He’s already made a home there anyways.

It’s careful, tentative, more so than the other times. The way you hold each other as though you’re made of glass. There’s no rush, no pressure of a goodbye, no adrenaline of a hunt. You have time. And, god, does it show. The way Din touches you is reverent, like you’re holy. You put everything you are, everything you have, behind every kiss, every touch, every whisper. It belongs to him, you’re happy to give yourself over. Just as he belongs to you, you’re sure of it. The fear that he touches someone else in the way he does you is soothed by the roughness of his voice in your ear, the way his teeth scrape against your throat, the way you hear the words without them needing to be said. Because he does, as you do.

You’re the first one to leave this time, blindly finding your clothes in the dark. You leave him a neutral comm, one you already have the pin saved for. He’ll know what it is. It connects to your personal pin without leaving a trace, and you can buzz him at any point. So long as he keeps it, you think he will. You take a moment to listen to him breathing, steadily in the dark, and raise your blanket to your nose. Din.

There won’t be a day goes by where you don’t think of him, of that you’re certain.

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#lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star war #fic #liz does words #obligatory prayer to the tag gods that they work #smut

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