#the little hearts line up with the bottom of my bags and the rims of my glasses :>
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Bucket List Interlude — Five.Six [Queen & Princess]
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Proud to release my second (technically first, but our actual second released first) collab with @co-reborn set in the Bucket List universe.
Enjoy this (mostly unedited) little gift before NNN.
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[Im Squirtle has sent a message:]
Oi, Pervert.
Let's try something new later on.
I know you’ll like it too
Head to the audi after your class ends
Come over quick :)
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You keep your books in the locker once you’re done for the day. With these types of Nayeon texts, you know you're definitely not studying for the next few hours.
You shuffle past the crowd of students heading to their next class as you make your way to the auditorium. There shouldn’t be anyone using it at this hour, so why would she ask you…?
With the door to the auditorium right in front of you, you reach for the handle. The door swings open smoothly, and as expected, it is empty, lights off. You step in and place your bag onto one of the chairs, before grabbing your phone from your pocket.
[To: Im Squirtle]
I'm here, where ar |
In the middle of typing your message, the lights switch on. First, the room is dimly lit, but it begins to brighten slowly. You look around, and that's when you spot Nayeon at the bottom, on the stage. You scan her outfit—open blouse paired with a bright pink crop top, hearts and lines and other designs printed on the cloth, coupled with jeans, deliberately left open and rolled around her waist. Cute pigtails, by far your favourite style on her, steel rimmed glasses perched atop her nose, and a loose tie hanging around her neck.
She looks like a star. Maybe in another world…
"Yah, Pervert!" Nayeon waves enthusiastically, the brightest grin across her ethereal features. Even at the bottom of the auditorium, you're blown away by her beauty. Not that it's a surprise any more, but her beauty is definitely one of a kind.
"Say hi to our junior!"
Behind her, another girl steps out. You wonder how you haven't noticed her hiding behind Nayeon.
"Eh, Shin Yuna?"
Shin Yuna—the next Queen of Seoul U, currently nicknamed "Princess". You've seen her around a lot—it's quite hard not to notice the other beauty of Seoul U. Nayeon is easily #1, but Yuna's a damned close second, and she'll ascend the ranking once Nayeon graduates, you're sure of it.
"Hi, Oppa."
"Come down! Come say hi!"
You oblige, and take quick steps down. At the bottom, you awkwardly nod towards the younger girl, causing Nayeon to giggle. She steps closer to her "successor" and lightly grabs her shoulders.
Peeking from the side, she asks, “What do you think of her?”
You gulp. You can’t deny Yuna’s beauty. “Yeah… she’s pretty.”
Nayeon then steps behind Yuna before running her hands over her chest. The younger girl visibly tenses up, even more so when Nayeon begins to pop open the buttons on her blouse.
“I, for one, think she’s beautiful.”
The white top is pulled open, Yuna's bare breasts now exposed for your viewing pleasure. Nayeon lightly kneads the soft flesh of Yuna’s breasts, eliciting light gasps from her. Her hands continue to move down Yuna’s body down to her hips, halting at her tight abs to run circles atop the defined muscles.
"She's got such a perfect body, doesn't she?"
Nayeon gives Yuna a soft kiss on the cheek, before she licks a long stripe from the younger's shoulder up to her left ear. Reaching her skirt, Nayeon undoes the clasp and zipper at the back, a small push all it needs for the cloth to fall down her long legs, leaving the girl in white panties. You stare at the big damp spot right at the crotch of her underwear, and you gulp as your cock twitches beneath your pants.
"Go on, tell Oppa what we're doing today."
Nayeon's hands roam Yuna's body again. Her fingers ghost over the younger's smooth milky skin again, paying special attention to her nipples.
"Ngh…"
"Come on, Yuna-ya~"
Nayeon's fingers softly knead the soft flesh of Yuna's nubile body, her fingers expertly drawing the primal lust out of Yuna. You can't help but watch as Nayeon literally plays with the new toy in her hands, Yuna having all but submitted willingly to her senior.
"Oppa…"
Yuna's call dripped pure sex. You couldn't help the rush of primal lust at her moan, and as Nayeon slides her fingers underneath the waistband of Yuna's panties, you wish you were the one in Nayeon's place instead.
"Mmh, Daddy, she's so wet, oh my God."
Yuna's loud moan paired with the buck of her hips is all you need to know that Nayeon has penetrated her with her long fingers.
"Yuna-ya, go on, tell Oppa what you're here for."
"Oppa… mmgh—I…"
"I…?" Nayeon prompts.
"I'm—ohGod—I'm here to, fuck, I'm here to…"
Yuna shudders, her words temporarily halted by the waves of pleasure that wrecks her body with Nayeon's fingers deep in her.
"Oppa, I'm here to have sex, Oppa, I'm here to have sex with you and Nayeon-unnie, please… please take care of me, please…"
"That's right Daddy, Yuna's here to join us today."
Nayeon withdraws her fingers from Yuna, who moans at the loss of contact. Her fingers are drenched—not one inch of her middle and ring fingers, as well as the surrounding skin, is dry. Strands of slick cling to Nayeon's skin as she plays around with it, and she giggles.
"Ehe, Yuna-ya, you're so wet…"
She holds her fingers in front of the younger bunny's lips. Yuna takes it in without any hesitation, tasting her own pussy off her unnie's fingers.
"Good girl." Nayeon strokes the younger girl's hair. She melts under her unnie's touch and praise, and the smile across her face widens when Nayeon kisses her cheek.
"Sit back and relax Daddy, I'm going to show you how our good girl cums under my touch."
Nayeon smirks at you when you curse under your breath. You're so fucking hard—a tent has formed under the zipper of your jeans, and you've had to undo your pants so you could be more comfortable. Yuna's eyes are locked on to your bulge, and she stares with dripping lust.
"Daddy, Yuna wants to see that cock. Show her what you'll be fucking her with?"
Phrased like that, there's no way you'd say no. You undo the button and zipper, then reach beneath the waistband of your briefs to fish out your hard shaft, exposing yourself to the younger bunny. Yuna's gasp is all it takes to stoke your ego—you look up to see Yuna's eyes fixated on your hard cock, but what seals the ego boost is Nayeon's hand back to rubbing Yuna's clit, and you watch in slow-motion as Yuna's pussy drips, wetting the floor with her lust.
"Isn't it big, Yuna? That's the cock that fucks my pussy. Daddy always fills me up so well…"
"Hngh—!"
Yuna chokes back a moan as Nayeon penetrates her again. This time, her knees buckle when Nayeon's skilled fingers glide between her drenched walls, and you watch as Nayeon curls her fingers within Yuna as she thrusts in and out of the younger girl's pussy.
"Doesn't it feel good, Yuna? You're doing so well for me, so well for us. Look at your Oppa, look at how hard he's jerking his cock for you."
You're unable to resist the urge—the sight of Nayeon masturbating Yuna might be one of the hottest sights of your entire sex life so far in college. Yuna can't tear her eyes off your cock, and similarly, you can't tear your eyes off Nayeon's fingers plunging deeply into Yuna's cunt as well, her other hand firmly kneading the younger girl's right breast, fingers tweaking her nipple. The wet sounds of Nayeon fingerfucking Yuna echoes around the empty auditorium, and so do her moans. Yuna's lustful, sultry moans go straight down to your cock, and you take a bit of time to spread the beads of precum at your tip all over your cock.
"Oh, Yuna-ya, come on, moan louder. Let Oppa hear how much you want him.”
Yuna moans softly, her words muffled. Nayeon tuts disapprovingly.
“No, no, louder. Oppa wants to hear you. Let everyone hear you.”
"—ppa, Oppa, Oppa, Oppa~!"
Yuna’s broken moans go straight to your cock, and you have to pinch the head to resist the urge to cum. Her high-pitched whines for you have you nearly blowing your load, and you’re not about to cum before she does—you want to watch her come undone right in front of your very eyes. The wet sounds of Nayeon’s fingers thrusting deep into Yuna’s cunt get louder, and stray droplets of Yuna’s slick fly off Nayeon’s knuckles. The younger girl in question is breathless, her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure wracks her body. Nayeon’s hot breath brushes against her ear, whispering pure filth to push her closer and closer.
“That’s right, you’re doing so well Yuna, Oppa’s so happy watching you. Look, look at how hard he’s jerking, look at how hard and wet his cock is…”
“Oppa~!”
“Imagine how good you’d feel with Oppa’s cock fucking this tight cunt of yours.”
“Yes, yes, YES!”
“Mm, go on, think about how big the stretch is, think about how good it’d feel when he empties his balls deep in your cunt.”
“Oh my God, Unnie, Nayeon-unnie, I’m—I’m gonna cum, I’m—!”
Everything seems to move in slow motion—Yuna’s loud cry of pleasure, her back arching, her body shuddering, her knees buckling. You gasp as a huge gush of squirt splashes all over the stage, and your eyes widen in shock as Yuna's gushes keeps on going. She doesn't orgasm in bursts like Nayeon does—with every buck of her hips, the stream only seems to get stronger as she cums in one continuous gush. Yuna thoroughly showers the stage with her cum, almost as if she is urinating. It overflows down over the fake plant boxes below, and that's when the stream tapers off, and Yuna collapses backwards against her Nayeon-unnie, sweaty, exhausted, but blissed out.
"You came so much, baby… such a good girl~."
Nayeon raises her fingers to her eyes, and she admires the glossy sheen of Yuna's slick and squirt covering her fingers and her palm. Her eyes glint in satisfaction, and she licks the stray droplets of cum that run down her arm, all while she stares deep into your eyes. Her next action is to wave her fingers in front of Yuna's lips.
"Have a taste, baby."
Yuna obliges, her lips wrapping around Nayeon's digits.
"Good girl."
The praise draws something out of Yuna, something more submissive, more eager. You watch as her eyes soften, and she becomes more pliant, more obedient. She sucks on her Nayeon-unnie's fingers, her hand holding her unnie's at the wrist to steady it as she licks it clean of her cum, all while Nayeon praises her with every swipe of her tongue. Yuna seems to beam under the praise, and you watch breathlessly as you take note of this new information.
"Did I do good, Nayeon-unnie?"
"I think you did a very good job, baby. How about you, Oppa?"
You rise to your feet and smirk.
"I think you've been a very good girl, Yuna."
The younger girl beams tiredly, the blush evident across her face. She squeezes her legs together unknowingly, a fact that doesn't escape Nayeon's and your notice.
"Do you want a break, baby?"
"Yes, please, unnie."
"Mm…
“Take your break, Yuna. Sit right here so you can get a good view of how Daddy fucks me.”
Your cock is desperately aching for action at this point, and you hastily respond to Nayeon’s words. You take off your pants before hopping onto stage and moving towards her. She kisses you harshly and pulls you closer into her. Both your hands work instinctively on undressing each other. You push the blouse off her shoulders while she works on the button on her jeans. You break the kiss momentarily to remove your shirt and her crop top, before immediately diving back into her mouth. You feel up each other’s body, your hands choosing to fondle her tits while she focuses on your abs. Heat builds up between both of you, and the kiss intensifies until she cannot take it anymore.
When Nayeon pulls away from you, you begin to plant a trail of kisses down her neck, shoulders and chest until you reach her waist. With the button undone already, you simply pull it down her legs. Nayeon is just left standing on stage in her ruined panties. A touch on her inner thighs is enough to make her shiver. You then pull down her panties and expose her dripping pussy for you and Yuna to see. The confident Nayeon from moments ago fades away, replaced by a quivering mess in need of you. You move behind her and push her closer towards the younger girl, fingers rubbing across her nether lips a few times before they dive into her pussy. She leans on your chest as her legs lose their strength. Her walls tighten around you and you feel more of her juices staining your fingers. You withdraw your fingers and hold them in front of Nayeon, and she licks it up without hesitation. Yuna looks in awe as the Nayeon she’s familiar with is stripped away, replaced with a Nayeon utterly overwhelmed with lust.
When she’s done cleaning your fingers, she looks over her shoulder to face you, whispering, “Fuck me hard, Daddy. Let’s give our good girl a show.”
You oblige, hurriedly bringing your shaft by her entrance. Slick immediately stains your tip as you make first contact with her pussy, and Nayeon’s body reacts to you immediately. She sinks herself backwards on your shaft and takes in the first few inches of your cock. With her snug flesh already clenching around you, you can’t help but to thrust your hips to insert the rest of your length into her.
The instant you’re hilt deep, three moans ring across the auditorium—yours, Nayeon’s and Yuna’s. Having watched the two girls indulge in sin earlier, it’s about time for you to have your own fun. Familiar with Nayeon’s body, you begin to pound and use her without hesitance. She’s quickly reduced to a mumbling and cursing mess, unable to form coherent words other than “Fuck!” and “Daddy!”.
You briefly look over Nayeon’s shoulder to see the younger girl’s reaction. Yuna’s eyes quiver, yet they remain laser-focused on your cock and Nayeon’s pussy. She’s biting down on her finger, saliva beginning to pool and seep out the corner of her mouth. Her other hand gently works between her legs, seeking out the pleasure she was bestowed by her unnie earlier.
You’re glad she’s enjoying the show, but what about the main actress?
Leaning over to her shoulder, you sigh, “You naughty slut. You want to be watched getting fucked so bad that you brought someone, mm?"
“Yes, Daddy, yes, I did—mmgh!”
Nayeon's admission amidst loud moans of pleasure has you fucking her harder.
"Fuck, yes, fuck, Daddy, you—hngh~!—feel so good inside me!"
While Nayeon takes your cock, you're more than aware of the younger girl paying her full attention to the erotic scene in front of her. An idea pops into your head, and you pause for a split second, to Nayeon’s disappointment, and wrap a hand underneath her thighs. Lifting it up, you give Yuna a clearer view of your cock spearing Nayeon’s pussy.
“Unnie, y-you’re so wet.” Yuna's voice is raspy with lust, and you field a glance at the Princess. She has her bottom lip between her teeth, a hand dangerously close to the dripping slit between her legs. You know it's only a matter of time before she breaks.
“Your cute little protege has her eyes glued on you, on your body, on your perfect pussy taking my cock. You like that, hmm?”
A deep moan is all that comes out of her mouth. She’s incapable of thinking, unable to process your words, fully concentrated on you and your cock and how good you’re making her feel. The thought of being watched whilst getting fucked hard all the times you teasingly whispered the possibilities of someone stumbling upon the dirty side of her have always been a turn on. Now, she has made her fantasy become reality—her featured guest sits by the side, having had her own fun, Yuna watches her, stares at her getting pounded hard, and Nayeon gets off from it, more than ever.
However, Nayeon isn’t the only one enjoying this precarious situation. You’re sure many would kill to be in your position—not only are you a part of Nayeon's closest circle, you're regularly fucking her as and when she wants it. You're even more aware of this now—Nayeon has introduced Yuna to the mix for today, and with her widely reputed to be Nayeon's "successor, she's not unpopular herself. Yet, here you are, with both of them naked, fucking one of them while the other watches. You love it when Nayeon is reduced into this crumbling mess, far from her prim and proper self. This side of her is yours to admire and enjoy, and enjoy it you definitely will.
You have the perfect view—Nayeon’s body rocks back and forth as you relentlessly pound her, cheeks flushed while she drowns in ecstasy, and from the corner of your eyes, you catch Yuna with her legs spread wide open, fingers driving in and out of herself. You’re immensely turned on, your balls aching and about to explode at any moment, but not yet, your job’s still not done.
Yuna has her eyes glued to your bodies the whole time, mouth gaped open in awe at how rough you’re being with Nayeon and how well she’s taking it. Heart beating in anticipation, she can’t help but to wonder how good it will be when it’s her turn to be fucked like that. Nayeon did promise her it’ll be mind blowing and she’s now getting a live preview. She subconsciously starts to thumb her clit as well for more pleasure, her gasps growing in volume. “Fuck unnie…”
You lean over and whisper into Nayeon’s ear. “Open your eyes, baby girl. Look at your precious junior.” She barely registers your words and struggles to do so with the immense rush of pleasure in her head. Through half lidded eyes, she sees what you see—Shin Yuna deeply engrossed in the show you’re putting out, her face red, fingers and thighs thoroughly stained with her slick.
“Look at her. She’s so wet and it’s all thanks to you.”
“M-Me?”
“Yes, you. Such a pretty slut taking cock so nicely. Maybe you should have invited more people to join. Maybe you should've called the entire school to gather here to watch you take this fucking cock like the slut you are.”
The thought of the auditorium filled to the brim with the school population, thousands of eyes watching her true self has Nayeon moaning louder. Maybe that’s what she wants all along. Such wild thoughts continue to fill her head, more ideas of how to push her fantasy further.
“Cum for me, Nayeon-ah. Let Yuna see how beautiful you can be when you cum.”
Nayeon doesn't last longer than your sentence. With a scream, her legs buckle under the pressure and you hold her up by her hips as you keep thrusting into her orgasming pussy. Bursts of squirt shoot out and make a mess of your bodies and the stage. You persist with your fucking and maintain your thrusts into the tight, sensitive pussy, eliciting moan after moan from Nayeon. The auditorium echoes with her cries—any passerby could easily hear them, check it out and catch the three of you in this illicit act, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.
A few more pumps into Nayeon later, you tumble out of control and your orgasm hits you. You cum inside her, mindlessly thrusting and burying your load deeper into her pussy until you’re properly drained. Shot after shot of thick cum fills Nayeon's tight pussy, and you pull her close and tight, softly cursing at the pleasure you enjoy right into her ear.
When everything subsides, you hear Nayeon's soft "Thank you, Daddy", and you give her a soft peck on the cheek before pulling out of her. Thick white drops of semen drip out of Nayeon's pussy onto the floor, and Yuna gasps at the sight. Both of you turn to look at the younger girl, and you're both so turned on at the sight that greets your eyes: the Princess of Seoul U is a mess. Yuna is pent-up—she clearly hadn't orgasmed, probably saving herself for the inevitable fucking she knew she'd get. Her eyes burn with lust, chest heaving with every deep breath she takes, nipples taut with arousal. The blush on her face hasn't left, and a puddle of her juices pools between her legs. When she pulls out her fingers from within her, slick drips from her digits onto the stage.
"Oppa, Unnie… that was so hot…"
Both you and Nayeon admire the sight in front of you for a second more. You're still fully hard, already wanting to fuck Yuna for the first time. However, Nayeon has different plans.
"Come here, Yuna-ya~"
The younger girl almost lunges for her senior, the desperate look in her eyes akin to that of a feral puppy compared to the bunny she commonly is likened to. She crashes her lips against her senior's, and you swear your cock gets harder watching both women make out with each other. Yuna can't resist kneading Nayeon's breasts, and Nayeon has a palmful of Yuna's plump ass, her fingers kneading the soft flesh. The lustful moans from both girls echo around the empty auditorium, and you can't help but stroke your slick cock in anticipation of what happens next.
"Mm, Yuna, baby, you kiss so well."
The younger girl only blushes at the praise. She looks down at Nayeon's body shyly, a bright smile across her features.
"I have a little something for you to taste, baby girl~." Nayeon runs two fingers over her pussy, her voice shaking as the pleasure of her own touch creeps into her system. When she retrieves her digits, they're coated in a thick sheen of your semen, and with a push of Yuna's shoulders, the younger girl kneels almost immediately. She looks up, eyes wide in desire, lust, anticipation, and Nayeon gently lowers her cum-soaked fingers to Yuna's mouth. The younger bunny immediately takes them into her mouth, her tongue thoroughly cleaning her unnie's fingers of the mixture of her juices and yours. When the taste hits her, you watch as her eyes roll back and she moans, almost as if your cum was a delicacy.
"If you want more of Oppa's cum, baby, come eat it out of unnie's pussy."
You're more than happy to put aside your desire to fuck Yuna—the sight of her eating your cum out of Nayeon's cunt is a worthy substitute. The blonde girl looks up at her unnie as her lips get closer and closer to Nayeon's cunt, and Nayeon smiles down at her junior, stroking her hair ever so gently. When Yuna's tongue first touches Nayeon's pussy, the older girl lets out a sultry moan, her hands gripping Yuna's head and pushing her crotch against the younger girl's face. The younger bunny sticks her tongue out and begins to lick along her unnie's slit, and she herself moans when your excess cum drips all over her tongue. It is at that moment where she wraps her lips around her unnie's pussy, and Nayeon throws her head back, enjoying the pleasure of her junior eating her out. Yuna fervently eats your cum out of Nayeon's cunt—when she pulls herself back to catch her breath, your semen and Nayeon's juices stain her lips and chin.
"Oppa's cum tastes so nice, unnie." Yuna's tongue glides across her lips to collect the mixed fluids across her face, and you bite your bottom lip when she gives you a lustful stare, her eyes lingering especially on your hard cock. She even leans over to lick the precum off your tip, and you curse when she gives you a few strokes along the length with every swipe of her tongue.
"It does, doesn't it?" Nayeon strokes her junior's head, and when Yuna looks up at the both of you again, Nayeon gives her next instructions. "You'll get to taste it again later, baby. Oppa's been waiting so long for that pussy, your tight virgin pussy, and I don't think you should make him wait much longer~."
When Yuna rises from the floor, her eyes meet yours in a blazing gaze of lust. She bites down on her lip, her eyes travelling to your hard, twitching cock and back up, the desperation behind her eyes only further adding to your desire for her. You watch in burning anticipation as the lithe girl in front of you turns around. Your eyes follow her hourglass figure, from the soft curves of her neck to the sharp juts of her shoulders, down her thin waist. You drool at the sight of her hips swaying as she takes steps towards the podium, at the sight of her long legs, and best of all, at her supple ass as she bends over when she reaches her destination. Your eyes immediately lock onto her pussy, drenched and dripping, her thighs glistening with arousal, the floor beneath her wet as well. The killing blow Yuna delivers is through her next few actions—she turns back to you, her puppy eyes pleading with you to finally fuck her, and she spreads her pussy open with her right middle and ring fingers. Fresh slick drips and runs down her skin, along her hand.
"Oppa, I'm ready for my fucking."
Yuna doesn't expect how quick you can be.
In two steps, you cover the distance between you and her. You grab your cock and aim it right for Yuna's spread hole, and the younger girl squeals in surprise when your pussy breaches the opening of her cunt. Before she can even speak, your hands grip her hips tight, and you send one hard thrust right into her cunt as you pull her right onto your cock, your pelvis slapping right against her ass.
"OpPAAAA~!"
Yuna cries out when your thick cock stretches her virgin pussy out with your one stroke. You waste no moment—you're already pulling out until your tip is left in her before thrusting back in. As you begin to fuck the younger girl, you forcefully grab her by her face to watch her reaction, and you begin to pound her harder when you see her eyes roll back in pleasure, unintelligible moans echoing around the auditorium with each stroke.
Yuna's pussy is tight, so damn tight, tighter than Nayeon's. Her walls quiver around your cock, the first she's ever taken, and they squeeze you so perfectly you swear you're in heaven. A rush of slick runs along your cock—did she just have a mini-orgasm or something, you wonder—and her body shakes as she attempts to take deep breaths. You knock the air out of her with every thrust you send into her, each stroke ending with you hilted deep in her, just like how you'd fucked Nayeon earlier. Yuna takes it all—she wants it, needs it just as much as you do.
"Oppa, Oppa, Oppa!!!!" Yuna can't stop repeating the word like a mantra—she can't seem to remember anything else.
Next to both you and Yuna, Nayeon has her fingers in her pussy again, fucking herself at the sight of you railing Yuna. Your semen drips from her fingers as she plunges then into her cunt over and over, her free hand kneading her own breasts for pleasure. She moans just as unrestrainedly as Yuna does, and Nayeon swears you almost seem to rail Yuna harder knowing she's watching. As your cock appears and disappears into Yuna's tight body, Nayeon fixes her eyes on how Yuna looks—like a proper slut. Her junior's eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, tongue sticking out of her mouth. The ahegao fixed upon Yuna's face draws Nayeon towards her, and the older girl steps up to pull her close. You shift Yuna back to create space for Nayeon, and you watch as the older girl pulls Yuna into a torrid kiss. The hot sounds of both women kissing mixed with their moans leads you to groan as well, and you fuck Yuna harder to satiate your lust. Nayeon holds Yuna's head close to her chest with one hand, and you watch as the older girl reaches between her legs to masturbate again.
"Unnie, uhn—!" Yuna's eyes are glazed over from pleasure, her speech broken up by moans and loud claps of your flesh against hers. The girl can't seem to hold steady—she almost falls over a few times as her hips buck on every brush of your cock against her G-spot. "Oppa fucks me so well, Oppa's fucking my pussy so good!"
"That's right, he is, because you're such a good girl. Good, pretty girls like you deserve poundings like that." Nayeon bites her lip at the pleasure she brings herself. "In fact, a good girl like you should suck on Unnie's tits."
Almost instantly, Yuna has her lips on one of Nayeon's breasts. She is completely pliant to any instruction—the praise is all she craves. Nayeon moans out loud as her junior helps to pleasure her, and you hear another set of wet thrusts join with the sounds of your sex with Yuna as Nayeon resumes fucking herself.
"That's right, Yuna, keep sucking Unnie's tits like that, fuck, fuck!"
You can't believe how blessed you are. Just like that, you're balls deep in the Princess of Seoul U and thoroughly pounding her freshly deflowered cunt, fucking it hard and using it like you've used Nayeon's so many times before. Both girls are similarly wet and messy—your shaft glides against Yuna's walls just like how it would in Nayeon's, and Nayeon's thighs always glisten with slick during sex, just like Yuna's are right now as well. The entire situation right now is obscenely hot—many dream to fuck both Nayeon and Yuna, and here you are living it, with both women desiring your cock so much they're having sex with you together. Yuna's been fucked almost entirely silly, and Nayeon's enjoying it as she fucks herself with Yuna's help.
Nayeon is the first to crack—Yuna's tongue, teeth, and hands are her undoing. The younger girl pinches and tugs at the older girl's nipples, occasionally playing with them between her fingers while her tongue flicks the sensitive nubs, and Nayeon's moans only get louder, whinier, her fingers plunging and thrusting harder, deeper—
"Daddy, I'm going to cum!"
Nayeon barely makes it to the end of her sentence before squirt explodes out of her. You watch in pure lust as the older bunny throws her head back, her guttural moans, the hiss of her squirt gushing from her cunt, and the loud splatters of her cum forming puddles on the floor echoing around the empty auditorium. Jet after jet of girl cum drenches the floor, and you feel Yuna tighten around you when she watches Nayeon orgasm. The younger girl begins to whine seeing her senior's body buck and writhe as she orgasms, her legs unstable, breasts jiggling with every shift of her body.
"Oppa, Unnie, Yuna's gonna—"
Yuna's sentence ends in a scream as her hips buck, and squirt sprays out of her freshly-fucked pussy. Your cock is forcefully ejected from her cunt, and you have to hold the younger girl up as her legs buckle, the pleasure of her orgasm washing over her entire body. Both Nayeon's and Yuna's cum mix on the floor beneath them, the huge puddle of squirt evidence of how much pleasure they drew from this session. You enjoy the sight of both girls orgasming together in each other's embrace, but that doesn't last for long—you have yet to get your release yourself, and Yuna's pussy was the only hole you hadn't filled with your cum. With one hard thrust after lining yourself up, you draw another scream from Yuna as you plunge your hard shaft into her still-orgasming pussy, and you pound her right through it, chasing your own high and prolonging hers.
"Yuna, baby, I'm going to fill you."
"Yes, Oppa, yes~!"
When you begin to thrust hard into Yuna, Nayeon pulls her into a sloppy kiss. Both girls' bodies rock with your thrusts as they engage in a hot, sloppy makeout—tongues swirl, moans escape their kiss, and hands roam across bodies to further pleasure each other. Even as Nayeon's orgasm subsides, Yuna doesn't relent in rubbing her Unnie's clit and playing with her breasts, drawing more pleasure from her body. You feast on the sight in front of you, enjoying the show that your two partners are putting up for you, and you work towards your own sweet release with every thrust. The friction that Yuna's tight, heavenly walls provide pushes you closer and closer, until…
"Fuck, Yuna, fuck!"
Your cock twitches and pulsates before the first burst of semen is fired deep into Yuna's cunt. Yuna moans at the feeling of you firing shot after shot of semen into her at the tail end of her orgasm, and you squeeze your eyes shut as white-hot pleasure washes over you with each rush of cum that you leave in the younger girl. You never stop thrusting throughout your orgasm, every upstroke fucking your cum deeper and deeper into her.
When you pull out of Yuna, a thick stream of cum leaks from her pussy, down her thighs. Some of it drips to the floor, mixing with the puddle of cum beneath you and her, and you stagger back, your cock softening after the intense sex session you've just had. However, the glint in Nayeon's eye tells you that it isn't over—you're not done for the day yet.
"Yuna, baby, now that we both have your Oppa's cum in our pussies…" Nayeon begins, pulling Yuna against her, their sweaty bodies flushed together. "...we should thank Oppa, mm?"
You're just as confused as Yuna is, but you're also willing to play along. Nayeon leads Yuna to a dry spot on stage, and she directs you to step back. Nayeon leans to whisper a few words into Yuna's ear, and you know you're in for a world of trouble when Yuna's face turns red, and she bites her lip in arousal, her eyes locked onto you, lust burning once more. When both girls begin to lower themselves to the floor, Nayeon leaves you with her new instructions.
"Enjoy the show, Daddy~"
When each girl crosses a leg over the other's, and both of them shift closer to each other, it clicks. Your cock begins to stir once more as you watch Nayeon and Yuna meet each other in the middle, moaning out loud as they grind their pussies together.
"Oppa, look at us, Oppa!"
Yuna's desperate call for your attention has your cock twitching as it hardens to its full length. The younger girl has a wanton look of lust all over her features, and Nayeon's expressions mirror Yuna's as well. You watch as both women's pussies get messier—they "share" your creampies in them through sex, their skin coated in a mixture of their slick and your semen. Yuna is the more eager one—she actively grinds down on Nayeon's pussy as if this would be the last time she'd be having sex, and Nayeon reciprocates with the same effort, pleasuring herself and her junior well as they put on a show for you. You can't resist stroking your cock anymore with the live sex show right in front of you.
"Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good, I feel so good~!" Nayeon's loud moans for you have you jerking harder. "Look at us sharing your cum, look at us having sex!"
With how sensitive both women are—Nayeon having orgasmed a short while earlier, and Yuna only finishing recently, it doesn't take too long before they're both close, desperately grinding against each other as they chase their highs together.
"Unnie, unnie, I'm going to cum soon, unnie!"
"Me too, Yuna-ya, let's cum for Daddy, let's cum for him to watch!"
You feast your eyes on how the Queen and Princess bring each other to orgasm—Yuna and Nayeon both grind down on each other hard, and Yuna is the first to scream before a huge gush of squirt sprays from her pussy, showering both herself and Nayeon in her cum. Nayeon takes a short while longer—she rubs her clit with her hands before her hips buck, and her own spray of squirt jets out to cover Yuna. Both girls drench each other's bodies with their cum, and you watch while pinching the tip of your shaft, unwilling to cum just yet. A short jet of white spurts from your cock as you watch, your semen dripping to the floor as you enjoy the deliciously wanton sight in front of you. You're almost delirious with pleasure, partially physical, partially from the almost unreal situation you're in. You enjoy the sight of both Nayeon and Yuna making messes of each other as well as the stage, their cum pooling into a massive puddle beneath them.
When both girls finally come down from their highs, they move themselves towards you.
"Oppa, it's time for you to cum too."
Nayeon wastes no time in taking your shaft into her mouth, her hand reaching to jerk you off. Yuna's lips and tongue reach for your balls, and you rest a hand on both of their heads as they please you together as a team. Both women share your cock as if it were a delicacy—when Nayeon would release you from her warm, slick mouth, Yuna would take over with a gentle suction and her tongue gliding under your cock, leaving you twitching. It doesn't take long for the familiar feeling to bubble back up.
"Fuck, Nayeon, Yuna, I'm close."
Both girls immediately focus their efforts right at your tip. Their tongues glide up and down on your cock before they make out with each other at the head of your cock, pushing you closer and closer.
"Cum over our faces, Daddy. You've earned it for fucking us so well."
With a loud groan, a thick burst of cum erupts from your cock, and Yuna immediately aims your cock right at herself. You watch in ecstasy as your hot load paints Yuna's pretty features, a smile wide on her face as your hot white semen lands on her face and breasts. Immediately, Nayeon pulls your cock over to her, and it's her turn to receive bursts of your cum all over her pretty face and body. You swear you're cumming forever—burst after burst of semen showers over Nayeon and Yuna, and when you inevitably come down from your high, you're greeted with the hottest sight of the night—the Queen and Princess of Seoul U, covered in a mixture of semen and squirt, servicing you and cleaning your cock with their mouths after rounds of hot sex where you'd filled their pussies full of your hot cum.
There's nowhere else you'd rather be at this very moment.
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#male reader#twice smut#itzy smut#nayeon smut#imnayeonbucketlist#im nayeon smut#shin yuna smut#yuna smut
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all up in smoke
masterlist
pairing: frank castle x f!reader
summary: based on the prompt: 'sit on my lap and let's smoke a joint'
warnings: alcohol, weed (rolling a joint, smoking, shotgunning), frank being a cute little whore, heavy petting/teasing but no sex, high epiphanies (mostly fluff!)
a/n: happy late birthday to the ever lovely @chelseasdagger , this one is for you babeyyyyy 💗
Home is a solace on your lips as you step inside, your keys joining the others in the bowl by the front door. Despite the events of your day, still fresh in your mind, you feel the knotted tension in your body begin to dissipate, the pressure easing in your temples. The few lights that have been left on are dimmed, filling the house with the kind of ambient coziness you’ve been longing for all day.
You round the corner, and there he is on the couch: feet kicked up on the coffee table, immersed in a hardcover book you swore he’d never touch. A pang of emotion stirs in your stomach — a cross between yearning and consolation; something you just can’t place, but are grateful for nevertheless.
“Hi, Frankie,” you smile, drawing the curtains open, letting the cool night air filter into the living room.
He lifts an eyebrow, glancing up at you from behind the book. “Hey, sweetheart. Long day?”
You stretch your arms over your head, nevermind that his voice stirs something in you, and set your bag up on the kitchen counter. “Mmhm. Glad to be home.”
Frank leans forwards, fingers closing around the drink he’s left on the coffee table. His eyes flick to yours as he takes a sip, caring not to break contact, before jerking his chin at the bottle of scotch next to your bag. “You want some of that?”
He points at you, clicking his tongue as you move to pick the bottle up. “Don’t move. Stay right there.” Setting his book aside, the pages splayed face-down onto the table, he makes his way over, utterly impervious to your flurried attempts in getting him to remain where he is.
“D’ya really think I’d let you pour your own drink?” Frank says, looking affronted, but a furtive smile spreads along his face as you shake your head.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me take care of ‘ya,” he adds, delicately.
Carting you gently to the side, he digs around in the freezer, reaching for a couple of ice cubes that clink mellifluously in the glass. You watch intently as they bob in line with the whiskey streaming in, and then as he inspects the amber liquid closely, as if to examine its quality.
When he’s satisfied, he turns to you, and raises the rim of the glass to your mouth. “Here,” Frank murmurs, condensation collecting around his fingertips. “Drink up.”
You shudder as the whiskey cascades hotly through your veins — each note of pepper, caramel and nutmeg lingering on the surface of your tongue like molten honey. You swallow another mouthful before pushing the glass away, not taking your eyes off of him for a second as he sets it down.
Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, raking his eyes across your face. He focuses on a stray drop of whiskey at the corner of your mouth, using a knuckle to brush it away. Your heart thunders at his calloused touch; as he pauses to swipe his broad thumb over your bottom lip. There’s a faint throbbing within you — a wild drumbeat steering you towards nothing but desire — so you flick your tongue out, circling his fingertip, relishing in his taste of salt, earth and whiskey.
He lets out a soft groan, mumbling something that sounds like your name; maybe even a plea to slow down. You’re attentive, knowing he doesn’t want this night over yet, that he wants to wait before taking you to bed.
It’s a good thing then, that you have something planned.
You inch forwards, swallowing as Frank’s hand sweeps over the contours of your face, coming to rest at a spot near your ear. He tips your chin upwards, letting his ragged breathing fan over you. He stalls, allowing his dark eyes to bore into yours, and for a moment you forget where you are, the stressors of the day long gone.
All you know is him.
His beard prickles your skin as he captures your mouth with his own, but you lean into the kiss, savouring his ardent warmth. He moves with you, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand into his hair, curling your fingers at the nape. Your thighs squeeze together as he pivots you around, pushing you against the counter while his tongue melts against yours. Using his leg to knock your knees apart, you arch into his touch, gasping as the bulge in his jeans settles where you need him the most.
You won’t be able to stop if you don’t pull away now.
“Frank,” you whisper. “Frank.”
He looks at you, placing a small kiss to your jaw. “Mm?”
“Before… uh,” you start, lightheaded and fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything but the heady weight of the whiskey and the ache between your legs. “I've got something for us. A little surprise. And I think,” you indicate, wagging a finger from him to you, “we should save this for later.”
He arches his eyebrows, smiling inquisitively. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
You step aside to rummage through your bag, taking only a few seconds for you to find what it is you’re looking for. You hold up a clear plastic container, giving it a little shake in front of Frank’s face. His eyes widen in comprehension.
“God, I love you.”
“Hey,” you smirk, “not God. Just me.”
He chokes on his own laughter, draining the last of your whiskey. “You got it, sweet girl.”
You bite down on your growing smile. “Anyway, I was thinking the plan could go something like… get a little high, have some fun. You know what I mean, right?”
“S’that right?”
“We both deserve it.”
“You need some help with that?” he asks, pointing at the rolling papers you’ve set down on the counter.
“Nope. Walk away.”
You’re an image of rapt focus with your tongue between your teeth, cautiously grinding the weed before packing it into the rolling paper. You slip a filter on one end of the joint, and using your thumb and forefingers, you roll it into place. Bringing the free edge of rolling paper up to your mouth, you skirt your tongue along the narrow strip of glue, quickly moving to seal the joint.
You shoot Frank a resolute look of determination. “Not bad, huh?”
He folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the couch. Almost hidden in the tangle of his beard, the corners of his mouth tick upwards. You can’t quite tell if he’s astonished, impressed, or a mixture of everything in between, but the expression on his face is a priceless ego boost. “Attagirl.”
“Mmhm,” you reply drily, admiring your handiwork from up close.
“Baby?” Frank calls, breaking your tethered focus. A glimmer of a smile in your periphery catches your eye.
“Yeah?”
There’s a sound of rustling fabric as Frank spreads his legs, motioning you over to him by patting his thigh. “C’mere.”
Your gaze softens at his request. “That sounds good, Frankie. Let me grab my lighter.”
“Got it right here,” Frank chuckles, holding it up and thumbing it open.
Twirling the joint in your fingers, you meander over to his spot on the couch, watching the tiny orange flame dance in his eyes as he holds down the lighter button.
He’s a solid comfort under you as you sit down on his lap, shuffling back until the side of your body is angled to his chest, using the armrest as additional support. His scent is a blissful, pacifying force – distilling in you where it matters.
Frank wrests the joint from your grip, assiduous in the way he places it between your lips, then as he lights it for you. The lit end glows as the papered edges begin to burn, flickering in its reflection in the window ahead. You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your mouth before inhaling it into your lungs. Maybe it’s in your head, but your body feels lighter already; even more so as you exhale.
The grey-tinged smoke remains opaque for only a second, vanishing into the air as soon as you pass the joint to Frank. You breathe out again, more deeply this time, allowing the grassy, herbal scent of the weed wash over you in waves of tranquil calm.
You cock your head to the side, studying the normally terse man before you leisurely smoking the joint, taking two drags instead of one. Gratitude forms a lump in your throat — nights like these are rare, and to see him so carefree, his mind unoccupied by the workings of the larger world, is a luxury you’ll never get tired of.
After tapping the gathering ashes into his empty whiskey glass, Frank hands the joint back to you, closing his eyes while he waits for your next pass. As the weed-induced euphoria starts to take effect, you wrench one of Frank’s hands from its spot on your thigh, interlacing your fingers together. You take your time in mapping his knuckles, tracing over every crease, scar and perfect imperfection.
You tap on Frank’s shoulder, wanting him as a credible witness for a successful smoke ring, but like all your past attempts, it morphs back into a cloud, hanging there in contempt.
He laughs softly, putting you right to shame with a series of flawless rings that fall forwards in an arc towards the coffee table.
You giggle, jabbing him in the chest with an expertly-placed elbow. “Don’t get too cocky now, Castle.”
His mouth quirks to the side. “Yeah? What are you gonna do, hm?”
“I’ll…” you search around the room for something to say. “I’ll withhold sex!”
He gasps, feigning an expression of outrageous offense. “That’s cruel, darlin’.”
Laughing, you reassure him you wouldn’t, really, but he takes the opportunity to soar through the cracks of your defense, hauling you backwards until his face is flush with the shell of your ear. “Really think you could resist it? Not havin' sex?”
The retorts crumble away as he tells you to ‘open up, sweetheart’, lifting the joint back to his lips. He breathes in deeply, turning his head to then exhale the smoke into your parted mouth. Your eyes roll back as he seals it with a kiss, and it catches you a little by surprise, but you run with it, inhaling as much as you can.
Not quite ready to let go of your earlier comments, Frank does it again, shotgunning into your mouth until you're left with nothing but a dreamy expression and no thoughts left in your mind.
You let out a contented sigh as the weed goes to your head, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where his beard scratched your lip.
Eyes drooping, Frank wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as close as he can, trailing kisses along your shoulder blades, down your arm, whispering sweet nothings and notes of ‘I love you’ until you slacken in his grip. You touch your lips to his forehead, now resting in the crook of your neck, his steady breathing keeping you anchored to your reality.
The next hour passes by in a haze — you’re mildly aware that there was another joint rolled in that time, courtesy of Frank, probably, but your memory retains the best parts: the giddy, high epiphanies, the smoke-filled kisses, the long-drawn-out touches… the fact that his skin has never felt so soft.
Exceptionally and utterly stoned, you move, draping your legs over his lap, clinging onto his neck so you can bury your face in his shirt – so spaced out that you barely register him talking.
“...Who the fuck is “Drake” anyway?”
“What?!” you sputter, snickering as if it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “He’s a rapper, Frankie.”
“He’s off limits, so don’t even try” — you stumble over your words — “enacting your justice or… whatever.”
Frank frowns at you, pressing his lips into a thin line.
And then he bursts into laughter. Unequivocal, heaving sobs of hysterical laughter. And it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.
“Enacting my justice? That what you think it is?” he howls, bringing his fist down onto the couch. “You really think I’ve got nothin’ better to do than hunt down rappers?!”
“A little bit,” you sniffle, wiping away the tears of joy streaming down your face. “You know who’d love this conversation?”
He shakes his head as you continue. “Micro.”
“Micro,” he nods, affirming your point. “Bet he’d know more about “Drake” than me.”
You chortle at his aggressive hand gestures. “You don’t need air-quotations every time you say Drake, you know.”
He waves a hand in the air. “Ahh, I know.”
“Frank Castle,” you say, kissing his cheek once, then twice, “I think this is the wisest you’ve ever been.”
“Oh, c’mon. Really?”
You gesture at the stub of your second joint, floating in the bottom of his whiskey glass. “Yep. You might have to do this more.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”
“Better me than what’s out there. Right, Frank?” you croon, batting your eyes at him.
“S’right, darlin’. That’s right.”
tags {x} @darlingshane @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @marvelswh0re @itwasthereaminuteago @simple-lovebot @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @chellestrash @theradioactivespidergwen @twilightbarnes @splendiferous-bitch @bl4ckpr1ncess @kaybeeboop @kdogreads @swearwolf13 @rqgnarok @qu1etwolf @honeyedheartss @runa-falls @whistle1whistle @awkwardalie
#frank castle x reader#frank castle#frank castle smut#frank castle fluff#frank castle fanfic#the punisher#the punisher x reader#the punisher fanfic#frank castle fanfiction#x reader#rhi writes 💻#tw weed#cw drugs
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A Sly Plan
Read on AO3!
A/N: Mad has a plan to give himself and Mare a very fun night, but it may not have turned out quite like he'd wanted. Also I think this one has achieved Mare's goal to ruin Mad in every room of their house.
Warnings: Smut.
--
Mad had a defiant pout on his face as he closed the living room curtains, heading around the kitchen counter to make himself a cup of coffee.
Mad leaned against the counter as he sipped his coffee, smiling slyly behind the rim of his mug as he waited for Mare to get home, knowing he would have a few words for him about his caffeine consumption at such a late hour. He relaxed his shoulders a little more, feeling Mare’s oversized and thin shirt slip down a shoulder, making the hem uneven and brushing deliciously against his upper thighs.
“Dear heart, I’m home!” Mare called as he stepped inside, toeing off his shoes and setting his bags down, shrugging off his coat and heading further into the house. “Mad?” He frowned when he got no answer, tilting his head in confusion before spotting Mad leaning against the kitchen counter, back to him as he held something in his hands.
“What are you drinking, love?” Mare asked as he stood on the other side of the counter, watching Mad stiffen slightly before slowly turning. “Is that coffee?” He watched as Mad carefully set the mug aside, the soft aroma of coffee surrounding them before Mad hopped onto the counter to crawl toward him.
“What if it is?” Mad asked, face inches from Mare’s, eyes glinting with mischief as a smirk pulled at his lips. “What would you do about my drinking coffee at… two in the morning?” He danced two fingers up Mare’s chest, then cupped his cheek before pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning when Mare gripped his hips.
Through the thin fabric of his own shirt on Mad’s body, Mare could feel that Mad was wearing nothing under the shirt, and it made him nip sharply at his bottom lip, slipping his tongue inside when Mad gasped. His fingers kneaded at Mad’s hips as he stepped forward to get closer, pulling Mad’s hips flush with his and giving an approving sound when Mad immediately rocked his hips against him, legs lifting to hug his waist.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Mare asked against Mad’s lips, moving down to nose at his jaw before pressing soft kisses there, moving a hand around to squeeze at his ass, raising an eyebrow when he slipped his finger between his cheeks to feel a cool wetness there. “Did you finger yourself before I got home?”
“M-Mare,” Mad gasped, back arching as Mare slipped two fingers into him, brushing against his insides persistently. “Please, please, show me what happens if I drink coffee so late…” He squeaked as Mare pushed another finger in, sucking a mark into his neck before scooping him into his arms and carrying him onto the living room couch.
“God, Mad,” Mare breathed against Mad’s skin, eyes trailing across his sprawled form as he leaned back to get out of his clothes. “I swear you’re trying to kill me sometimes.” Giving up on his shirt and sweater in favour of tearing off his jeans and boxers, Mare dove down to lick a stripe up Mad’s cock, hands on his thighs holding them apart to make ample space for him. Mad’s shout had him digging his nails into the soft plushness of Mad’s thighs, giving his hips attention before sitting back up.
He hooked one of Mad’s legs over the back of the couch as he pulled a bottle of lube from the cushions, generously coating himself with it before lining up to Mad’s hole. Pressing kisses to Mad’s thigh, he slowly pushed in, moving to swallow Mad’s moans in a kiss as he bottomed out.
As he waited for Mad to get adjusted, Mare reached over to the coffee table, taking the mug Mad hadn’t even noticed he’d moved and sipping from it. He flashed Mad a smile as he put the mug back, gripping Mad’s hips and beginning to thrust, setting a harsh pace with an arm braced against the cushions by Mad’s head.
“M-Mare! Y-You, you shouldn’t be allowed to—ah,” Mad cut himself off with a moan as Mare hit the spot inside him that made him see stars, arching his back and hugging his arms around Mare’s chest to pull him closer.
Mare reached over to take another sip of coffee, then leaned down to kiss Mad, letting him taste the beverage on his tongue before pulling away, running his tongue along the veins in Mad’s neck, feeling him squirm at the residual warmth from the coffee. Adjusting slightly, Mare changed the angle of his thrusts, making Mad’s sounds come out with every gasp, holding onto Mare for dear life.
He forgot sometimes how Mare was able to make him completely boneless and brainless with just a touch. His anger at Mare drinking his coffee dissipated as Mare hit every perfect spot inside of him, one hand moving to wrap fingers around his cock to pump it at the same pace as his thrusts.
“Hm, maybe I should let you drink coffee at absurd hours,” Mare hummed, following the line of his freckles with the tip of his nose, smelling the coffee on Mad’s breath as he panted. “If it keeps you awake, I know many fun things we could do to utilise that caffeine spike.” He tilted his head up to press his lips against Mad’s hairline, smiling against the skin at Mad’s quiet whimpers.
“Mare, Mare, close,” Mad’s voice was hushed, hands feeling the movements of Mare’s muscles beneath his shirt as he weakly moved his hips to meet Mare’s thrusts. “Mare, my Mare, piano man, please.”
“Go on,” Mare growled into Mad’s ear, feeling the way Mad shivered from his warm breath against the sensitive skin. “I’m close too, and I want us to finish together. Then I’ll finish your coffee and clean us up.” He smirked against Mad’s ear when the scientist came with a strangled moan, teeth latching onto the earlobe as he followed soon after.
Mad’s hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, feeling far too warm in the thin shirt still covering his frame, sticking out his kiss-bruised bottom lip in a pout as Mare finished his mug of coffee before setting the mug down and pulling out.
Mad’s pout didn’t last long, as Mare gently lifted him into his arms and carried him to the bathroom, cleaning him off with a warm cloth and several kisses. Wiping himself down, Mare scooped Mad back up to take him to bed, tenderly sliding a pair of boxers onto his hips before laying him down.
“You drank my coffee,” Mad grumbled sleepily as he reached out for Mare, humming as the musician pulled him into his arms.
“Don’t make coffee past midnight, and I won’t drink it,” Mare replied, chuckling when he noticed Mad had fallen asleep before finishing the argument. Pressing a kiss to Mad’s forehead, Mare settled into the covers, holding Mare close and closing his eyes. He wouldn’t mind reminding Mad of the rules in the morning.
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@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo
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#the little hearts line up with the bottom of my bags and the rims of my glasses :>#orange aesthetic#blue aesthetic#heart aesthetic#winged liner#q: on the trail to oregate
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—belated; bucky barnes
pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader
word count: 4738
warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings
squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge
request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain
author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)
gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics
James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.
One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.
Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.
Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.
After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.
All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.
The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?
Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.
He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.
Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.
Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.
“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”
His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.
Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.
Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.
You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”
“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”
“I’m annoyed.”
“Well, duh. Why?”
He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”
So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.
The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.
Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”
“Not true.”
“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”
“How is that my fault?”
You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”
“I have to work. You know that.”
“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”
He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.
And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.
But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.
You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.
Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”
He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.
Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.
The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.
“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”
Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”
A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”
The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.
Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.
You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”
“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”
A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.
“That requires an answer, honey.”
The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”
He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”
Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.
The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.
“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”
He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.
Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.
“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.
When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.
A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”
He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.
“I don’t think—“
“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”
You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.
If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.
Well, you like being his prey.
Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.
The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.
Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”
That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.
Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.
“Lean forward, kitten.”
Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.
He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.
There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.
Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.
You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.
Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.
He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.
You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.
Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”
Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.
“You want me to fuck you, girl?”
The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”
That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.
You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.
Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.
The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.
“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.
He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.
It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.
You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.
Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.
He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.
“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”
The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.
“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.
You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”
He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.
He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.
Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.
The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.
Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.
Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.
It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.
He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.
You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.
Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.
He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.
Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.
You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.
“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”
So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.
“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.
You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”
#bad things happen bingo#buckybarnesbingo2021#ssb2021#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#5k...holy god
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hello friend! i have a peculiar prompt for you - drarry, please, and any rating!
an experimental spell gone very wrong (or very right) with a twist of “i didn’t even know pranks could go that poorly”
loving seeing what you come up with!
(Un)sealed with a Kiss
The window for a fashionably late arrival has closed, and Pansy Parkinson has officially stood me up. Again. The chickenshit.
This is the third time she's invited me to one of these house parties that runs high to Gryffindors, crap beer, and grudges. I sit in a corner of Potter's living room, nurse a bottle of Heineken, and pretend I'm invisible.
None of them want me here, and I don't want to be here. But oh, the lengths I'll go to to help Pans woo the Weaslette . . . who is conspicuously absent. I count the redheads in the room and come up one short.
Pansy, that slag. She's bagged her quarry and left me to throw off the trail. Good for her. I smile against the rim of my beer, but not for long.
"Something funny, Malfoy?" Seamus isn't an affectionate drunk, but at least he's across the room. A short scuffle between him and Dean ensues. "Well?! Is it?! Go on and share with the class."
I shake my head and tuck my knees up closer to my chest. I should have left five minutes ago.
Seamus and Dean are conspiring. I know the position. Heads together, eyes darting toward me, then back to each other, slow-spreading smirks.
Dean's teeth flash white, and the air between us flickers a sickly yellow before hot, sticky magic gloms onto my face. It oozes in slow circles over my chin and cheeks, then settles in the seam of my lips.
A Lip Locker Hex. Great. I raise my beer to my mouth, feel it slosh against my sealed lips, and settle it in my lap with a resigned sigh.
The bastards invented the hex just for me, but it's not an inspired spell choice. This is the third time Dean's used it on me in as many months. Inconvenient. Insulting. But mostly harmless.
It's a fantastic way to tell someone they're not welcome, as it can only be undone by a kiss by someone who's happy to see you.
St. Mungo's has a golden retriever named Quickspittle, and he's always happy to see everyone. I don't love getting dog saliva on my face, but at least I can tell Pansy I got a thorough tongue bath tonight. Let her wonder about the details.
Dean and Seamus wander into the kitchen, and I review my exit options. Apparating out through Potter's wards is a no-go. The fireplace is right next to me, but who knows where I'd end up if I stepped in and told the Floo network to take me to "Mm mm mmm."
The front door, it is.
I don't want to leave a half-finished bottle of beer on Potter's living room floor, but I also don't want to take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. Dean and Seamus can certainly come up with worse hexes than this.
My thumb is a good enough stopper for the beer bottle, and I carry it with me to the front door, turn the knob, and slip through. If I close it, they may notice I've left. But if I leave it ajar, I'd feel like a bad guest. It closes behind me with a soft snick.
I catch a whiff of cigarette smoke as I turn onto the sidewalk, intending to walk to the Islington Apparition Point.
"Hey."
Potter's leaning against the streetlamp across the street. He stubs out a cigarette and jogs across to meet me. I watch him come to a stop in front of me, and I'm a grateful I can't open my mouth, because I'm afraid of what might come out.
He's a little magical. Not how people assume. But in the way that with so much as a glance, he grows to consume the space around him. His presence is a heady, enveloping thing.
The orange illumination from the street lights glints auburn off his hair. The pavement underfoot somehow suits him, as if it tones itself down to let him shine.
"Gin and Pansy never did show up, did they?" he asks with a knowing smirk.
I shake my head.
He fiddles with something in his pocket through his jeans. A Muggle lighter, probably. He gave up on lighting cigarettes with his wand after he burned a pack of them down to the filter trying.
"Dean and Seamus did it again?"
I nod and shrug. It's not a big deal. And if Pans and Ginny become a thing, I can stop coming to these parties altogether.
He swallows; loud on the hushed street. He rubs the back of his neck and shuffles closer. Unusually close.
"I'm, uhm, glad you came."
He darts forward, and I smell cigarettes before it registers that his lips have touched mine. I blink startled eyes at him. He blinks right back and looks down at my lips.
My heart hammers in my chest. A delayed response, but it's followed by a hot flush up my cheeks. That kiss was too fast, and I take a breath to say something. What, I'm not sure, but my lips are still stuck tight.
It was worth a try. I shrug and wish I could taste him. He probably just tastes like cigarettes, anyway.
I give him a half-hearted wave and turn to leave.
"Wait."
He snags me by a belt loop, and I have to reach out to steady myself on a streetlamp. Even after I've turned, his hand stays on my waist, and his palm is warm through my shirt.
The amber light turns his eyes into a jewel-tone kaleidoscope, and my breath comes faster as he pushes me against the lamp post. Those eyes are close, and closer, until they flutter shut, and soft, warm lips part over mine.
His tongue traces a slow line over my bottom lip, and I can't stifle the whimper that sneaks out through my nose. I take a shuddering breath and inhale cigarettes, but also cedar and cloves. His other hand cups my chin, and tension melts from me as I lean into him.
His arm wraps around my waist, and I'm not sure where to put my hands, but his shoulders feel like a good place. I forget about the beer in my hand, and it dribbles down his back. I gasp and fumble to right it, but it smashes to the sidewalk behind him.
He chuckles against my lips and presses the long line of his body against mine. My lips part, and I nip at his bottom lip in rebuttal. His teeth clack against mine as he grins, grips my chin, and kisses me.
He kisses like the pavement's on fire. Like the bloody world's on fire.
His hands hold my face and my body as if I'm made of spun glass, but his tongue, his teeth, his lips devour me like candy floss, and I dissolve.
A clatter from the front porch eventually distracts him, and he breaks away, leaving me panting against a lamp post.
Dean and Seamus lean on either side of the open doorway, and Dean hollers from the steps.
"It's about damn time that hex worked!"
A blush creeps up Harry's cheeks, and he bites his lip before looking up at me.
"I really am glad you came tonight."
I try to avoid grinning like an idiot, but I'm fairly certain I'm failing.
"Me, too."
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hi. can i request something angsty i absolutely love your angst works! so being in a long term relationship with mr ran haitani that's kind of already having fallouts. then reader cheated and confesses to ran about it but he still kind of didn't expect reader would do something like that. thank you very much! pls ignore if you want <3
This hurt to write. But it hurt so damn good.
King of Sorrow: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader
wc: 1.6k
tw: A N G S T
masterlist
song recommendation:
Things had been going downhill for a while.
Ran noticed the way you stayed out late, the way you no longer cuddled him in bed at night, the way your eyes wandered when you two were at the club...
But he never says anything.
You two had been together since he had become part of Bonten - and that was five years ago. FIve years of bliss, love, and happiness.
But that all started to fall apart last month.
He can't recall what he did - if anything. Ran tried his best to show you that he loved you, even when he was away. But lately, it'd been met with a half-hearted "thanks" or "I love you, too". Ran knew you weren't saying it because it was inherently true. You were saying it because you felt obligated to.
But he didn't feel obligated.
No, he's convinced he loves you, even if you're falling out of love with him. It's a hard thought for him to grasp, but he does somehow - that you might just have fallen out of love with him.
So he ups his gestures of love in an attempt to stave off the routine. This week, he's taken you on a trip to Italy. No meetings, no calls, nothing that has to do with work. It's just you and him on a cruise ship, sailing from port to port.
"This is amazing," he beams, cutting into the steak with gusto. "I've never had steak like this before."
"It's Wagyu," you mention, looking more somber in the dim lighting of the restaurant than when you both entered. Come to think of it, the moment you stepped onto the boat, you seemed downcast, even more so than when you were at home. You couldn't even look Ran in the eye anymore, and even though he'd made love to you the previous night, it seemed like that didn't have any effect on how you felt today. Usually, you'd be excited and full of life, but...
"Babe," Ran whispers, putting his fork down. "What's wrong?" Your bottom lip quivers and Ran stiffens. No, he thinks. Don't cry. But he also wants to get to the bottom of things, so he continues cautiously. "Things have been really strange for some time now, and I brought you here so maybe we could fix whatever's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," you lie, wiping your eyes quickly. "Everything's fine."
"No," Ran tuts. "It's not. My love, you've been distant. I'm worried about us." He reaches across the table and touches your hand, and gesture he hasn't tried in a long time. "I'm worried about you." You snatch your hand away, standing and throwing your napkin over your barely touched food.
"It's fine, Ran," you snap, then walk away from the table quickly, rubbing at your eyes furiously as you leave the ship's dining room. Ran sighs, motioning for the waiter as he cuts his losses with the dinner.
"Just send the bill to the room, please."
Ran finds you in your shared suite, sitting in the chair facing the balcony with your head in your hands. You're sobbing, and for a moment, he replays the interaction between the two of you before approaching, holding your purse in one hand.
"Love," he begins, kneeling beside the chair and placing your purse in the other seat beside him. "I need you to talk to me."
"I just..." you start but break off, tears flowing down your fingers. "It's not your fault." You reveal your reddened face, eyes rimmed with smeared mascara. "I didn't mean to..."
"Whatever it is, it's fine," Ran whispers, taking your wet hands in his. "It'll be okay. Just tell me what's wrong." His heart is aching to know why you're so heartbroken, but you inhale shakily, then exhale before opening your eyes.
"Ran, I want to start off by apologizing." Ran shakes his head, his violet eyes unsure, but you stop him, squeezing his hands once. "Just listen to me all the way through, okay?"
"Done," he affirms, shoulders relaxing now that you're finally telling him what's wrong.
"A month ago... I went to Takada's bachelorette party, right?"
"Mmm-hmm." He remembers that night. You looked so stunning in your tight mini-dress and pinned-up hair. He thought about railing you over the side of the banister before you left and was a little disappointed that you came home around eight in the morning instead of that same night.
"I..." You shakily inhale again, shaking your head rapidly. "I got so drunk. I don't know what was wrong with me, I..." You sniff, then remove your hands from Ran's, wiping at a stray tear. "I ended up sleeping with someone. I don't know who they are, I don't know where they came from. But I just remember waking up in the bed, naked, and seeing him there."
Ran stares at you, face empty, still not fully processing what you've said. He is still for a while as the cogs in his mind turn around and around and around and around and around and then
stop.
His mouth dries up, and his violet eyes look away from you, at the wallpaper, at the mirror, at the corner of the room, at the ceiling.
"I've felt so guilty since then," you mumble. "I couldn't tell you because I felt so ashamed, I--"
Ran stands, letting out a soft "oh", wavering a little on his feet. He blinks a few times, still not looking at you, then cocks his head to the left, like he's hearing something. But he's just processing. His mind flits from one day to the next, trying to pinpoint any signs, any clues... How could he have been so stupid?
No, you couldn't have cheated. It was a mistake. You'd gotten undressed, the man was drunk and also fell asleep in your bed... No, you couldn't do that. Not to him. Not to Ran Haitani.
But your guilt is written all over your face.
"Oh," Ran mutters again, jaw clenching. His breaths come quick like he'd been running for hours, and he can barely think as he sees red cloud his vision. He can't understand what he's doing when he breaks the table in the conjoined living room, or swipes the vases onto the floor, shattering them and depositing the flowers among them. He can't think about anything as you shout for him to stop, trying to reach him past his haze of red, but he's too far gone.
And the thing that frightens you the most is that he isn't yelling or screaming.
He's quiet.
He's not cursing at you, he's just destroying anything that looks whole, tossing it to the ground and rendering it unusable. You slide down against the wall, tears coursing down your cheeks again as he huffs, standing in the middle of the wreckage, gasping for air.
And then, the clearest thought Ran's had in almost an hour comes to him.
"Let me get you your own room."
"Ran," you plead, stumbling over your feet to get to him as he marches over to the phone. "Ran, please."
"Hello? I need a new suite for Mrs. Haitani. Do you have one available?"
"Ran!" you beg, pulling at his sleeve, but he doesn't move from the phone, gripping the receiver as the person on the other line tries to find an open room for you. You try to reach the button that will hang up the call, reaching past Ran's frame in earnest. He's blocking it, but there's just enough room for your pointer finger to tap the button, ending the call.
Ran doesn't even move. The phone is still up to his ear as if the call is still going on, but no voice is on the other line.
Fat tears roll down from his eyes, and he's frozen there, standing with the phone in his hands as if he were paused in time. But he lets the phone slip from his grasp, walking like a zombie over to the chair by the balcony, and sliding into it slowly.
And he doesn't get up, staring out at the sea with an empty, forlorn look.
"Ran," you whisper, crouching next to him. He doesn't answer, tears running freely down his face. "Ran..." Again, there's no answer, so you hang your head next to his leg, touching his thigh with your right hand. He doesn't move, even when you get up to prepare for bed, the door leading to the carnage of his temper still open.
He doesn't move from that chair all night, and you don't sleep, staring at him as his tears dry. You even succumb to sleep for a brief moment, waking to see him still in that same chair, still trying to think.
But eventually, he moves, walking into the bathroom and staying in there for a while. You wait patiently for him, sitting on the edge of the bed as he emerges, wiping his face with a towel before he inhales sharply.
"As soon as they dock this ship at the next port, we're heading home. Couples counseling or a divorce, it's your choice." You look down at your hands, nodding. You understand the need to cut the trip short. It's for the best.
When you arrive back home two days later, Ran immediately grabs a new bag of things, loading it up with clothing and toiletries, choosing to take residence at Rindou's home instead of sleeping in the same bed as you.
And that hurt the worst, his cold violet eyes not even glancing over at you as he left the master bedroom without any words.
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Grunge-Metal Geralt 2
holy fucking shit yall really loved the first one so I wrote some more
this is totally self indulgent tho. like yall have no idea. if i could live in any AU it would be this one. i have so many feels.
Warnings: drinking mention, nothing over the top, unwanted pics taken but like they’re celebrities? i guess, we get a bit emotional about past relationships/crushes but nothing too heavy
__________________________
Jaskier had no idea how he got there, but he was knocking on a green room door with a temporary label reading ‘The Witchers’ before the stadium had completely emptied.
Lambert yanked the door open, Aiden clinging to his back like a monkey, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head before a huge grin spread over his face, “Hey there, Jaskier!”
Eskel grumbled, “Haha, Bert. No need to fuck with Geralt.”
Jaskier shoved his hands in his corduroys and rocked up onto his toes, “He’s not fucking with anyone,” he laughed, desperately trying to keep the nerves out of his voice as he peeked around the door jam.
Geralt was curled up in the corner of a couch, now wearing a massive grey-blue hoodie and gold wire-rimmed glasses, scribbling in a composition notebook propped up on his knees. His hair was pulled back in a disaster of a bun with pieces falling in his face but Jaskier absolutely loved it. It suited him. He hesitated a moment before scrawling one last line in his notebook, brow furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip.
When he looked up he snapped his notebook shut, “Holy fuck,” he breathed, “Hi!”
His eyes were actually gold. Jaskier had just thought that was some thirst driven exaggeration. He expected light brown, but no. He was staring directly at eyes that practically sparkled.
Lambert waved Jaskier in and he hesitantly stepped through the door, “Hi! I uh, dig your boots.”
“Th- Thank you,” Geralt bit back a grin, blushing bright pink as he stood up, “I didn’t think you’d see my message. Or respond.”
“After that performance?” Jaskier, normally bard-worthy with his quick tongue and easy conversation, was feeling his own cheeks heat up as he scrambled for something to say, “I’m honestly not sure if I even locked my car when I came back in.”
Eskel snickered from behind Jaskier, stretching and putting his feet up on a coffee table, “Told ya.”
Aiden sighed and rested his chin on top of Lambert’s head, “This is so cute.”
Jaskier laughed, not entirely uncomfortably but definitely awkward, and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Geralt.
Geralt pushed his glasses farther up his nose and snatched his wallet from the coffee table, “I offered drinks. You wanna…” Geralt trailed off and made an exasperated, and maybe a little annoyed face at the guys behind him but when Jaskier turned around they were pretending to mind their own business, “How does Pensive sound?”
Jaskier shot him a grin, “Sounds perfect.”
Geralt snagged his keys from a bag and held the door open for Jaskier, “After you.”
-
“Okay so,” Jaskier took a sip of his drink and set it in line with their two empty glasses and a napkin holder, “Aiden and Lambert fuck?” he asked, pushing an empty glass and the napkin holder together. Geralt snorted and nodded so he went on, “And Eskel and Lambert are brothers?” Another nod as he tapped the two empty glasses, “And you and Eskel were college roommates?” he asked, gesturing to his half-empty glass.
Geralt grinned, “You know, you’re keeping up pretty well for a self-proclaimed lightweight.”
Jaskier giggled, “I’m trying really fucking hard.”
Geralt leaned his head back and laughed and Jaskier was absolutely done for. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand as he stared dreamily at this adorable man. He was carefree and soft around the edges, nothing like Jaskier had expected from the lyrics he’d listened to all night. And either he was a good listener or Jaskier had had one too many vodka-crans.
When Geralt finally got himself under control he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes before placing them back on his nose with a grimace, “I shouldn’t have taken my contacts out.”
“Old prescription?”
Geralt blushed, “Don’t usually wear them in public,” He admitted, pushing the frames higher.
Jaskier must have had too much to drink because he reached out and tucked a curly strand of white hair behind Geralt’s ear, “I think they’re cute on you.”
Geralt’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jaskier, jaw hanging down just a bit, his pupils blown wide. Jaskier bit his lip and smiled as he pulled his hand away and rested it on the table between them, hoping Geralt would get the hint. Gods he just wanted to hold his hand and giggle until the sun came up.
“Thank you,” Geralt muttered, blinking a couple times and laying one of his hands over Jaskier’s.
“Can I ask you something?”
Geralt licked his lips and nodded, shaking the hair loose that Jaskier had just tucked away.
“Why that song?” Jaskier stared at their hands, not having the courage to look at Geralt in case the answer wasn’t what he wanted it to be.
“Hmm…” he didn’t sound upset, but he was certainly choosing his words carefully, “I’ve done the whole.. How do I put it?” Jaskier looked up at him only to see him staring at their hands too, “...‘I could be enough for you if you’d let me’ dance more times than I can count… and knowing it would never happen but yearning anyway…” he chuckled and glanced up at Jaskier, a sad look of acceptance in his eyes, “And I love your voice.”
Of course, he’d heard those words before, it was his job to have a good voice, but fuck, they hit different coming from Geralt. He was so earnest and disarmingly handsome that Jaskier felt anything he said would make him giddy. His chest felt warm and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. He had planned on showering Geralt with praise and adoration, not the other way around.
Jaskier squeezed his hand, “I love yours too,” he whispered.
There was that gorgeous blush again, making Jaskier’s heart skip a beat.
“I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re not magnificent,” Jaskier mumbled, watching Geralt blush even deeper and dip his head so the loose hairs covered his face a bit. Jaskier may have been a flirty drunk, but he was one hundred percent sure he’d be just as forward with Geralt sober. He wasn’t leaving the bar without making damn sure Geralt knew he was gorgeous and talented and everything Jaskier could imagine wanting in life.
“Careful. You can’t just say things like that,” Geralt warned, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a guarded but amused smile.
“And why not?”
Geralt squinted at him for a moment, “I might believe you.��
“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier started, sitting up and turning to square his hips toward him, holding his large hand in both of his, “I don’t mince words. I mean everything I say. And tweet. I really do think you’re wonderful. And I really do want you to sing me to sleep. Sometime. Anytime. I’m not picky.”
Geralt raised his eyebrows and took a breath in to say something but was interrupted by a camera flash in the low light of the bar and someone swearing.
“Oi!” Jaskier turned toward the light, and the idiot fumbling with their phone.
Geralt squeezed his hand before he could say anything more, “It’s alright. The hair kinda glows in the dark, I’m used to it. I was thinking we could get out of here?”
Jaskier did his best not to let the sly smile take over his face and give him away, “Would you like to come to my place?”
Geralt grinned, “Absolutely. Mine is a shit show right now.”
“Is it really that bad?” Jaskier joked as they stood.
“Eskel is a slob,” Geralt laughed.
“Mine it is!” Jaskier declared, slapping enough cash to cover their drinks and an exorbitant tip on the table.
They walked out of the bar with Geralt’s arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, both with giddy smiles and a little extra pep in their step.
#grunge-metal geralt#rockstar geralt au#grunge-metal geralt au#folk singer jaskier#singer jaskier#modern au#geraskier modern au#geraskier modern music au#geraskier music au#geraskier meet cute#geraskier first date#geraskier softness#geraskier bonding#feral jaskier#the witcher#the witcher fic#the witcher fanfic#geralt of rivia#geralt#jaskier#jullian alfred pankratz#listen soft boi geralt that gets all his agression out in his music makes me hnnnnggg#also soft boi geralt who didn't used to be so soft but has learned to channel it all into his music makes me hhhnnnggg too#im purely in this for Geralt ifyou couldnt tell
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Pick Me If You Want To (part 3)
Summary: Set in the early 1950s, you are an aspiring photographer that is currently working at a toy store until you make your big break. During a surge of Christmas shopping, you are first met by Wanda Maximoff, a mother of twin boys and married. She leaves her gloves, which gives you the opportunity to meet her again. She takes fond of you, and you of her, but her messy divorce with her husband, Vision, risks the custody of her twins. Does she continue your blossoming relationship or fight for her kids? Based on the movie Carol
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Warnings: smut and explicit content, don’t read if you’re under 18!
Word Count: 6k
A/N: After this chapter, I think it’s going to take me longer to get content written and published because I want to take my time with writing and making sure that it’s good before I post. Enjoy reading! <3
You and Wanda arrived at a rundown motel in Ohio to stay the night. You wished you had the ability to drive so that Wanda didn’t have to exert all of her energy, but alas you did not. Despite appearing a bit ragged on the outside, the interior of the motel was quaint and surprisingly polished. You dragged your ratchet luggage to the front desk while Wanda effortlessly tugged hers along since all four of her wheels were working properly unlike yours. She found your clumsiness adorable as she attempted to conceal her giggles while you struggled.
The old man at the front desk, however, was not amused by your failure at picking up your luggage as he found it frustrating since it was not that hard to maneuver. As the two of you reached him, he already filled out most of the form. You took notice of his posh demeanor even though this had to have been at most a 2-star motel. Who does he think he is? He wore a light blue dress shirt with a black tie, his shiny bald head was his most striking feature. His peppered gray goatee was thin and his thin-rimmed glasses were held together by tape in the middle.
“I have a two-bedroom suite on level 2 room number 3. Could I get your name and the number of nights you plan to stay?” he asked with little civility due to his irritants for your lack of professionalism. Wanda took notice of the man’s behavior and responded in the same manner.
“Wanda Maximoff and one night is enough. And why don’t you get some manners and help my friend with her bag instead of silently judging her?” Wanda huffed and raised an eyebrow. After he wrote down the information, the man cleared his throat and walked around the desk while muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch. He assumed that you lacked the knowledge of rolling your bag by the handle, but then he noticed that one of your wheels was broken and understood why you were struggling.
Wanda laughed at him, not making any attempt at hiding it this time. You couldn’t help but laugh with her and the two of you walked past him to get to your room. The man gave up and carried the luggage up to your room instead of dragging it along the carpet. The still night allowed your giggles to echo into the atmosphere, but it eventually stopped as you neared your room. Wanda unlocked it with a key the man, who was struggling with lifting the bag up the stairs, gave to her in the lobby.
There was nothing too alluring about the room, it was quite average. The two twin beds, both an interesting orange color with stripes, had a few feet of space in between them. There was a window next to the front door with curtains that matched the color of the bedsheets. The bathroom had the basics: a shower, toilet, sink, and soap. You were surprised there was toilet paper as well.
“I expected worse,” you admitted with a pleasantly surprised expression as you took in the room. You heard the man’s heavy panting get louder as he neared your room, practically stumbling when he placed your luggage inside.
“That’s what happens when you make assumptions without doing a bit of digging,” Wanda teased, the man rolled his eyes and muttered “Merry Christmas” as he left. She quickly shut the door while you flopped back into the bed nearest to the bathroom, claiming it as yours.
“If I’m feeling this tired then you must be exhausted. You should get some rest,” you told Wanda who opened up her bag and pulled out some pajamas. You watched as she dug through to look for something, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
“I will, I want to take a shower first, but I can’t seem to find my towel,” Wanda continued rummaging through her bag, but you understood by her huffing and puffing that she must have forgotten to pack it. “Here, let me get mine out of my bag,” you insisted and rose from your bed. Wanda assured you she brought it even though you both knew she didn’t. “Oh, please it’s no big deal. I’ll take a shower in the morning and I’m sure it’ll dry by then,” you waved her off as you easily found your towel in your luggage.
You handed her your light purple towel and she hesitantly took it with a sigh, there was nothing she could really do; either accept your offering or try to find a rag in the cabinet that would most likely be moldy.
“Thank you very much,” she smiled with gratitude and you nodded back, her smile bringing a shiver up your spine and fluttering in your stomach. It was something about that dark red lipstick that made you go crazy. No. You can’t let her get to you or else this is going to be another Steve situation where you’ll end up breaking her heart. Besides that she is a soon-to-be divorced mother of two children, you definitely aren’t ready for that. But her lips.
Wanda blushed when she saw you staring her lips up and down, but then you got flustered when you realized that she caught you and quickly turned away. Neither of you mentioned it, so Wanda made her way into the bathroom but caught a glimpse of you smiling at your thoughts.
While Wanda showered, you could hear her humming some songs you had never heard. It was pure bliss to your ears as you laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. How were you falling for this woman so quickly? A woman. You would have never thought you would be head over heels for a woman in this day and age. Sure, you’ve had some crushes on girls, but you would brush them away since it was taboo. But with Wanda, there was something more alluring about her. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed to reciprocate those feelings back to you.
The way she comforted you when Steve left was something you were so grateful for, but that is what was sending you to your tipping point. You knew that this wasn’t just you craving her touch, but also her heart. Right now, however, you needed to make sure you were also there for her. She’s in the midst of a heated divorce with her husband and about to lose her husband, so you couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. If she wants to get closer, then she will have to make the first move.
“Go with the flow,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled at your fingers.
“What was that?” Wanda hummed as she stepped out of the bathroom, your towel wrapped around her body and steam infiltrating out of the bathroom. Her body was moist and glistening from the excess water, her hair sopping wet with water dripping from them. You were speechless. You immediately covered your eyes out of respect.
“God, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to stare,” you quickly apologized which earned a chuckle from Wanda. “Oh don’t worry you can look. I’m covered up, am I not?” she teased and bit her lip seeing you fluster at her response. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continued to ramble. “Please, would you think I would come out like this if I was uncomfortable?” she questioned, but you didn’t answer.
“Well, the answer is no. I forgot to bring my clothes with me into the bathroom,” she stated as she walked over to her bed where her pajamas were neatly folded. You gradually lowered your hands from her face and glanced at her state. Damn, did she make your towel look so good on her.
She picked up her clothes and scuttled back into the bathroom and you sighed. Trying to not make the first move was going to be extremely difficult for you.
Your thoughts began to wash over one another as sleep loomed over you. You were completely passed out by the time Wanda was out of the bathroom. You were lying on your side in fetal position on top of your sheets. Wanda quietly walked towards you and gently pulled the folded blanket over you and made sure it covered your whole body. She watched as you nuzzled your head deeper into your pillow and let out a sigh when you cuddled the blanket for warmth.
Wanda ingrained this moment in her mind and quietly left the room in search of the motel’s telephone which she spotted near the stairs that led to the first floor. She dialed a phone number and stood patiently until she heard the line connect.
“Hello?” a groggy voice answered. “Vision, let me speak to the boys,” Wanda requested with a hushed voice. “They’re already in bed, Wanda. It’s nearly 11 pm,” he replied with annoyance. Wanda bit her lip, she just wanted to talk to her children and wish them a Merry Christmas since she didn’t get the chance to in the morning.
“Vision, please,” Wanda didn’t want to beg, but she missed her boys. She wanted to see their faces lit up as they unwrapped the train set she had ordered. The train set you recommended.
She heard Vision sigh as he stepped away from the phone. “Hello?” a high-pitched tired voice answered. “Merry Christmas, Tommy! Is Billy with you, too?” Wanda’s heart warmed hearing the voice of her child. She yearned to hug them and kiss the tops of their heads.
“Yeah, I’m right here, Mom,” Billy replied also with a tired voice. Wanda smiled to herself listening to them, she imagined them standing there half asleep rubbing their eyes.
“How was your Christmas? Did you enjoy the train set?” Wanda asked. She knew they would love it because they were into building things and using their imaginations, just as she and Pietro would also do as children.
“It was so cool! We played with it all day, thank you, mom!” The two of them responded at the same time, making Wanda chuckle. The cool wind outside began to pick up causing Wanda to shiver.
“Okay boys, go to bed. I’m sorry I woke you. Be nice to your dad and grandparents and I’ll see you both when you get back,” she said sternly trying not to let her voice break. The twins said their ‘I love you’s’ and hung up the phone.
Wanda sighed as she went back to your room and silently shut the door once again. She turned off the lamps that lit the room and got into her own bed facing you. She stared at you as she dozed off as well, your peaceful expression being the last thing on her mind as she fell into a deep slumber once her exhaustion hit her.
The morning sunlight seeped through the cheap curtains of the hotel room and shined directly into your face. As you became aware of your surroundings, you could hear the birds singing outside filling the atmosphere with their beautiful tunes. You opened your eyes facing away from the window so you wouldn’t blind yourself.
A faint rhythmic snoring caught your attention, so you turned around seeing Wanda sprawled out on her bed still sleeping soundly. One could easily disregard it, but the room was so quiet that you couldn’t help but take in this moment. You didn’t find it to be obnoxious, unlike Steve’s. His snores would start deep in his throat and wake you even when you’re blacked out. You eventually convinced him to get diagnosed with sleep apnea and he had to learn some breathing exercises to lessen them, but they still persisted and now you could proudly say you can sleep through a train passing by.
You figured you should get up and take a shower now before Wanda does so that you guys could hit the road as soon as you could. You stretched your back once you sat up on your bed and saw your towel draped on a chair sitting in the corner of the room. You were reminded of Wanda’s after shower figure: wrapped up in your towel, red hair dripping wet, body shining from the condensation of the steamy shower, and now you were going to use that same towel.
You picked out a casual outfit to wear so you could be comfortable on the drive and you quietly slipped into the shower as to not wake up Wanda. You let the shower run for a minute so the hot water would come through, and it relaxed your body as it hit your skin. Wanda left her shampoo and soap sitting on the side of the tub, so you figured it would be okay to use it for yourself. The smell of peaches was pleasant, you could only imagine how it would smell on Wanda. As you finished up, you rubbed lotion on yourself before putting on your clothes.
The cooler air of the room was a punch to the face, but you received another punch when you saw Wanda’s backside completely bare, only wearing her undergarments. Thankfully she didn’t notice you come out of the bathroom drooling at her appearance, so you stumbled back into the bathroom making sure you gave no indication you exited in the first place.
Wanda heard the click of the bathroom door and quickly turned around only to see no one there. She briskly put on her black slacks, a blue blazer over a white blouse, and tied a red ribbon around her neck, and knocked on the bathroom door to let you know that it’s okay to come out.
“Don’t worry I didn’t see anything,” you stammered as you walked out of the bathroom trying to be nonchalant about the situation. “Are you saying I look bad with no clothes?” Wanda faked being hurt with an exaggerated gasp, but you took it literally.
“What?! Of course not! I didn’t say that! You look grea- I mean, you look perfectly fine,” you replied defensively but bit down on your tongue to try not to embarrass yourself more. “I’m just teasing you, darling. Enough of that, we need to hit the road if we want to get to Chicago by tomorrow tonight,” she exclaimed, resuming packing up her clothes.
You decided to leave your towel out and laid it across the back seat of the car to let it dry. The old man from last night was replaced by a younger-looking man who seemed to be much nicer. He was happy to assist you in taking your broken luggage into the car without any hesitation. He insisted that the two of you try out the breakfast that the motel provided to their ‘esteemed guests’ in the dining hall.
“I felt so esteemed last night by Mr. Baldyhead,” you muttered under your breath as you and Wanda walked to the breakfast bar. Wanda snorted when attempting to suppress her laughter at your comment. There were more people than you had expected.
You gathered eggs, a couple of pancakes, and strawberries onto your plate and took a seat at an empty table towards the center of the room. Wanda was still eyeing the bar, so you waited to begin eating until she came. A man with sleek combed back hair in a suit gave a sly smile at you from the table seated at the table next to you. You reciprocated by giving a shy smile back and he proceeded to get up to introduce himself.
“The name is Loki Odinson, lovely to meet you two ladies,” he held out his hand in front of you and you brought up yours to shake it. “Nice to meet you as well, my name is y/n, '' you replied with a timid voice.
“What is a beautiful young woman like you sitting here all alone?” he inquired as he turned his head to see if anyone was with you. “I’m not alone, my friend is still gathering some food,” you pointed at Wanda who was now on her way. She had a confused look when she noticed the mysterious tall man, and he looked over at her and nodded in understanding.
“Hello?” Wanda said to the man with her eyebrow raised, “Do you need anything, sir?” He took a few steps back over to his table, “No, no, I just was making small talk with y/n over here. What brought the two of you here?” he asked, obviously wanting to continue the conversation. He must be alone and bored, so he’s just trying to keep himself busy, that’s what you told yourself at least.
“We are actually heading to Chicago, this is just a pit stop for us,” Wanda explained as she relaxed once she realized the man was harmless. She took notice that you had been waiting for her before beginning to eat, so she lightly kicked your foot to get your attention to tell you to eat.
“I’m headed there, too! I’m actually a traveling salesman so this is my daily life to go from one place to another,” he exclaimed with excitement. He continued to explain how he first acquired his job and what he’s doing now as you and Wanda listened intently to him, finding his outlandish stories entertaining.
“So when my dad kicked me out of the house, I went down a really dark path and got roped up in some illegal schemes. The big boss guy of this cartel wanted me to go undercover and infiltrate their rival to steal this gem that originally belonged to him, and since I was new, no one would suspect me of being a double agent. Anyways, it didn’t go over well because my brother, who works for the authorities, caught both cartels and, me being his brother, he let me go. That led me to discover my passion for sales marketing and exploring cities, so here I am now!” He concluded his very long story.
“You were part of a drug cartel?” you asked in disbelief. This guy definitely talked way too much to be a part of a cartel, somebody would surely shoot him in the face to get him to shut up. “I know it may seem crazy at first, but I assure you it’s no lie,” he laughed, but you and Wanda looked at each other with wide eyes.
After talking to the man for another twenty minutes, and him attempting to sell you some magazines, the two of you finally got up from the dining hall.
“I need to make a phone call to Monica, why don’t you go get settled in the car and I’ll meet you there,” Wanda touched your shoulder and you nodded, trying to ignore the tingling feeling of her hand on you.
“Hello Monica, how’s it going?” Wanda spoke into the phone.
“Vision came by my house looking for you. He was drunk and I told him off. I also might have told him you were going to Chicago with y/n,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t do anything, Wands,” Monica tried lightening the mood, but the pit in Wanda’s stomach said something otherwise. “He’s trying to take full custody of the boys, Mon. He’s gonna poke and prod through any little misgivings of mine he can find to make sure of it. And I don’t want him getting his hands anywhere near y/n. I’ll call you when we reach the next stop, thank you for everything Monica,” Wanda hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths to collect herself.
There was no way he could find anything that could sway the judge in his favor. She was their mother for the love of god. What kind of monster takes a mother away from her children?
Wanda entered the car and forced a smile at you which you didn’t think much of. You two finally left the small Ohio motel and were back on the road. This time you wanted to ask Wanda more about her life story since you spilled all of yours leading up to the first pit stop.
“Oh well, my parents were quite well off thanks to my grandparents. Their marriage was arranged so all of my life my twin brother, Pietro, and I had to endure their bickering on a daily basis. He was and still is, one of my best friends. We would run off into the woods to this little pond that was so clear that you could almost see the bottom where the crabs would crawl. We’d spend most of our time creating imaginary worlds and pretending we were in the old wild west or flappers in the 1920s or knights in the renaissance. Those are the memories that outshine the terribles of my childhood,” she smiled as she reminisced, you were leaning the back of your head against the window watching her while listening intently.
Her smile faltered, a sad one replacing it. “When my parents tragically died in a freak accident when we were 10, Pietro and I had to move in with my mother’s parents. Living with them was nice, but they couldn’t handle us so we were shipped off to separate boarding schools. Pietro went to an all-boys one while I attended an all-girls one. Being without him really… sucked. My first few months there were miserable until I met Monica. She became my bestest friend and we still are to this day,” she let out a slight chuckle and you smiled with her.
Wanda glanced at you for a moment as she contemplated her next statement. “She was also my first love,” you raised your eyebrows and bit the insides of your cheeks. Your assumptions from earlier were correct then, but it still hurt to hear it out loud.
“Interesting,” you replied and turned away to look out the window, making Wanda furrow her eyes at your sudden change in demeanor. You knew you had no right in being mad at her, they obviously weren’t together anymore. But you couldn’t hide your slight jealousy, and Wanda thought it was a bit endearing that you cared so much.
“Anyways, so the two of us were together for a few years until we realized it wasn’t meant to be, but we stayed very close friends. My grandparents arranged for me to marry Vision because it would be a good step for our family businesses since his family was a rival to mine, but we went on a few dates before we settled on the engagement. Being married to him was nice at first, and then we had the twins, and then things went downhill from there I suppose,” Wanda shrugged her shoulders and sighed.
You were now feeling guilty for your rude behavior, so you put your hand on her leg to show your sympathy. “Sorry for being rude right there,” you apologized and Wanda assured you that it was okay.
Wanda knew you might be wary of answering her next question, but she figured after spending over twelve hours with you on the road the two of you had grown quite close. You already had ripped out a fart which signified you were already pretty comfortable around her.
“How did you meet Steve?” she pressed her lips together when she felt you tense up against her even though your side was barely touching her.
“We met through a mutual friend and we hit it off pretty well. My friend set us up on a date after seeing us connect so well the first time we met, and then it just blossomed from there. He and I worked well for the first year we were together, the honeymoon phase is what people call it I hear. We were two people madly in love, but he just never matured as time went on. He always expected me to make breakfast or do his laundry out of my love for him,” you explained while pulling at your fingers. You felt fine speaking about him for once, you didn’t feel guilty anymore for breaking up. That was all thanks to Wanda and her assurances.
Wanda nodded in agreement, she knew by how you were that you loved being independent and striving to meet your dreams without anything or anyone weighing you down. Steve was dead weight to you achieving your aspiration of being a photographer. He didn’t even have the decency to get you a good camera.
“Well, I’m glad you broke things off with him because he obviously didn’t know how to treat you right. You are a lovable person, don’t think twice about that,” Wanda gestured for you to come closer to her, so you pressed your side up against hers and relaxed your posture.
Wanda placed her right hand on her lap trying to get you to place yours on top, and you took the hint and inched yours slowly but surely up to it. Wanda smiled when feeling your grip tighten around her hand. You felt safe with her, that you could trust her words. As the car ride went on, you fell asleep, your head resting on Wanda’s shoulder and she didn’t make an attempt to shrug it off. She enjoyed the feeling of you on her.
The next motel was much nicer than the last one, even the workers were much nicer than the bald guy. It was late in the afternoon when the two of you arrived, the both of you starving only having had breakfast in the morning. Once you both had settled, you suggested you go to a nicer restaurant for dinner which Wanda immediately agreed to, both deciding to wear fancy dresses to blend in. The two of you snuck into the fancy five-star hotel across the street and nonchalantly chatted to not draw attention.
The waitress asked for your room number and name, “Maximoff, room 623,” you answered without hesitation and Wanda gave you a knowing look. “Right this way, Mrs. Maximoff,” the waitress gestured and led the two of you to a table with two chairs.
You were in the mood to really satisfy your tastebuds, so you chose to order lobster. Wanda looked at you wide-eyed, but you gave her a cheeky smile with a wink, so she ordered filet mignon. As the two of you waited for the food, the conversation came so easily between the two of you. Effortless.
“You sang very nicely in the shower this morning,” Wanda commented while taking a sip of her red wine. You raised your eyebrows, “I didn’t know you were awake. I would’ve shut up if I had known I was too loud.”
Wanda waved you off, “Oh please, I enjoyed it. It was almost as good as the first time you sang to me.” You blushed, but the wine in your system gave you a newfound sense of confidence that urged you to continue the banter.
“If you liked it so much then why don’t I sing you to sleep tonight?” you suggested seductively with a smirk. Wanda was a bit thrown back that you countered back, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked this side of you.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” she replied with a low tone, biting her lip at the thought.
When the bill came, you told them to place it on the tab and the waitress nodded quickly. Wanda laughed so hard to the point she snorted which caused you to laugh at her. It was a nice moment, one you wish could last forever.
The two of you were buzzed, giggling all the way back to your motel room and it only continued once you were there. Wanda pulled out a bottle of champagne from her bag and popped it open, the cork leaving a small dent on the wall. This caused you to roll on the floor with laughter, you each took swigs straight out of the bottle which only added to your drunken state.
You were both sitting on the floor right next to each other leaning your backs against one of the beds. “Are you going to sing to me now?” Wanda inquired with her champagne bottle pointed at you. “Well if you insist, M'lady,” you replied as you cleared your throat.
The only lyrics you could remember at the moment were the song you had sung to her while playing the piano. This time as you sang, you stared into her enchanting emerald eyes, your gaze never wavering from them so she knew every word was directed at her.
“Everybody loves somebody sometime. And though my dreams were overdue, your love made it all worth waiting for someone like you,” as you finished the song, you noticed Wanda leaning forward, so you did as well. Her lips slightly puckered out and her eyes were closed, so as you neared her, you closed yours and anticipated for the moment your lips were in contact with hers.
Even though you were expecting it, the feeling was completely different than what you had expected. She was the light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel you had been lost in your entire life. You always thought Steve was meant to be it, but no, he wasn’t. You were completely wrong and now you had your answer.
Wanda’s lips were soft but also overwhelmingly persistent at trying to savor every little bit of you. Your hands were gripping her waist, slowly massaging it as her hands rubbed your neck. The alcohol made your actions clumsy and less methodical, it was more about rushing to get to what you had been craving for quite some time.
One of her hands caressed your bare legs and slowly made its way up to your dress. You shuddered, but you wanted more. You tugged her arms to get her up onto the bed, unzipping her dress from behind and allowing it to fall to the ground when you had her stand up.
Your eyes met with Wanda’s hungry eyes as she turned around, she launched at you crashing your lips together once again as if she was a breath of fresh air after drowning at sea for so long. She pulled down the straps of your dress, allowing it to fall as well, both of your chests now bare. The back of her legs felt the bed behind her, and so she allowed herself to lie back onto it.
You climbed on top of her, your legs straddling her torso, and you continued to kiss her lips passionately. You trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck before settling on a point of her neck that caused her to sigh deeply. She guided your hands to feel her chest, and you obeyed, allowing your hands to sensually massage them.
“Please touch me,” she pleaded, letting out another sigh. You trailed your mouth and latched onto her nipple and your tongue circled around them. You allowed your hands to glide on her stomach and down to the band of her underwear, tugging them down. You gave the same attention to her other nipple and Wanda couldn’t hold the moan she was trying so hard to suppress.
Your tongue made her feel like she was jelly, each kiss you gave held so much passion and love that she had been craving from the first time she had spoken to you. The glint in your eyes told her all of the potential you had hidden within you, and now you were expressing it to her.
You continued your kisses down her stomach, her back arching with each one from the sensitivity building up inside of her. You kneeled at the edge of the bed and pulled her towards you by her legs. You kissed her inner thighs up until you were met with her core which was radiating heat. You gave a languid lick on her sensitive center and she tried squeezing her legs together at the feelings, but you forced them apart by putting them over your shoulders.
“I’m not done with you yet,” you retorted with a smirk and Wanda grabbed the sheets into her hands to brace herself for what was going to come next. You latched your mouth onto her clit, giving slow circles with your tongue to tease her. Her moans were soft, but you knew she wanted more, so you then slipped one finger inside of her causing her to gasp.
You pumped your finger in and out slowly while continuing to lick her clit, and the feeling was becoming all too much for Wanda, but you persisted. You felt her grinding her hip to create more friction and her hands were pushing the back of your head into her more. You added in a second finger making Wanda whimper, but she hadn’t asked you to stop yet.
You felt her walls clenching against your fingers, so you went faster. She cursed obscenities which only motivated you more, you curled your fingers making Wanda let out one last moan originating from her gut. You slowed down and took your fingers out of her, licking up the juices she released making sure not to add to her sensitivity.
Her legs were shaking and you knew she was exhausted already from the car ride. You crawled up onto the bed next to her and she cuddled up to you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. She leaned in and kissed you, tasting herself in your mouth. “All I asked was for you to sing to me, but you really outdid yourself with that,” she whispered against your lips.
“Maybe I just wanted to listen to you sing to me,” you chuckled as you pecked her lips and pulled the sheets over the two of you. Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, “Hey we’re not sleeping yet, I still haven’t gotten my turn with you.”
She seductively bit her lip as she threw the sheets off of you and straddled you. “I’m not gonna stop you,” you smirked and she leaned down and kissed your neck, not even attempting to stop the sigh that escaped your lips. You knew this was going to be one long night that you were going to never forget.
When the two of you woke up in each other’s arms, you dreaded getting up, you just wanted to lie in that position forever, but it was time to hit the road again. You freshened up in the bathroom while Wanda said she was going to go check out in the lobby.
“Mrs. Maximoff, right?” the woman behind the counter confirmed. Wanda nodded her head and the lady gave an envelope with her name written on it. “It came by this morning for you,” she explained and Wanda frowned as she tore it open.
Wanda’s heart dropped, letting out an audible gasp as she marched her way to the car where you were putting in the last of your things. You saw Wanda’s face and you furrowed your eyebrows at her. “Wanda? What’s wrong?” you questioned, but she was completely frantic at the moment.
“Where’s my suitcase? Where’s my fucking suitcase?” Wanda kept shouting as she dug through the trunk. She found it and pulled out a revolver and your heart literally stopped. “Wanda, you’re scaring me,” you said, but she continued to march over to the room that was right next to yours from the night before it and slammed it open. You trailed behind her.
That’s when you saw Loki standing in his sleepwear with a set up of cameras and audio recorders located right at the shared wall with your room. Wanda was furious and pointed the gun at him. “Where is the tape?” she demanded and Loki gulped the frog in his throat.
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All You Ever Wanted- Din Djarin x Reader
Dear @hellcaster901
Happy Holidays, love! Here’s your gift, I hope you like it! You get Din a little Life Day present and he doesn’t know what to say. Also for narrative purposes Grogu is chillin with his Aunt Peli.
The title is Pedro’s favorite Black Keys song...
Tags: Mostly fluff, with allusions to some spice.
Word Count: 1,582
Din held you close to his chest; close enough to feel the rapid thrum of his heart as he came down from the high of love making. Absolutely mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. With blissed out eyes he watched as his rough fingers ghosted up and down the soft skin of your spine, leaving delicate goosebumps in their wake.
“I love you,” he breathed, as he drank in the tender warmth of your skin against his.
“And I love you,” you smiled, then nudged his crooked nose with your own.
He replied by kissing you, soft and deep. It was easy for him to get lost in your kisses. The softness of your lips, and the way they moved against his, like that's what they were made to do. Sometimes he got so lost, he could swear he was dreaming. Before you came along he had convinced himself he was destined for a life of solitude. Wandering from planet to planet, bounty to bounty with no real place to call his own. But when he held you like this; tight to his chest-- he knew he was home.
You nipped playfully at his bottom lip and broke him out of his reverie. The smile you’d given him when he pulled away sent a flow of warmth through his entire body. Radiating out from his heart, to the tips of his fingers, and down to his toes.
“OH!” you exclaimed, as you pulled away from him abruptly. Taking the bedsheets, and all of the warmth with you. “I almost forgot!”
Din’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he watched you dart across the floor of The Crest to your duffle bag. The stolen sheet flowed behind you, like a ladies elegant cape, as you went. You rummaged through the sack for a moment or two. Exclaiming “AH-HA!” when you finally found whatever it was you’d been searching for.
“Happy Life Day!” you yelled, as you held a small package out for Din to see. Your eyes gleamed in the dim lights of the hull as you ran towards the nest of blankets the two of you had started calling a bed.
“Life Day?” Din asked, his eyebrows had shot so high they nearly disappeared under the shaggy brown curls plastered to his sweaty forehead.
“It’s a Wookie tradition. Like a holiday.” You explained as you gestured wildly, the gift still held tightly in your hands. It’s contents clanged around in the small box.
“Since when are you a Wookie, riduur?” Din chuckled, he had been with you for a while now, and even a year into marriage you still managed to surprise him. “You’re not nearly hairy enough.”
“Shut up,” you replied; and swatted at his chest with the ghost of a smirk threatening to spread across your face. “My best friend in the rebellion was a Wookie. Now do you want the present, or not?”
“Of course I do.” He replied as tried, in vain, to still the laugh in his chest, and force a serious expression.
“That’s what I thought.” You sassed as you crawled into his waiting lap. With your chest puffed out with pride, you waved the small box in Din’s face. Tempting him to grab it. But when he reached for it you pulled it away with a frown.
“Kiss me first.” You insisted, as your lips pulled into a childish pout. Din rolled his eyes but happily obliged.
“Thank you” you beamed, appreciatively running your thumb over his plush lips when he pulled away.
“What is it?” Din asked with a frown. He ran his fingers over the paper covering the box and admired it for a moment. The paper was plain and brown, but you’d taken the time to decorate it with tiny, hand drawn, trees. On the top it read, “For my riduur.” In what Din assumed was your fanciest script.
He went to rip off the paper and felt, almost, dirty doing it. You had clearly put a lot of effort into making it look nice, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin that. So he carefully went along the seams, and peeled the paper off without making a single tear.
When he opened the box, he found a fancy looking vibroblade inside and what looked like some spare parts.
“What are these?” Din asked, holding up some of the cold metal pieces.
“They’re for the vibroblade,” you explained, reaching into the box that was settled between the two of you to pick the blade up. “I can mod your vambraces with them, so the vibroblade pops out of the bottom.”
“I-I, uh, don’t know what to say…” Din stuttered, not quite sure what to make of the whole thing. He’d never celebrated a holiday before, or gotten a gift. When it came to things like this, he had to admit, he was always more than a little lost.
“Look at the blade, love.” You encouraged, taking his hand in yours and carefully placing the sharp blade on his rough palm.
His calloused fingers traced over the smooth, cool, metal before he turned it over. On the other side he found his signet, a Mudhorn, carved perfectly into the side.
“Did you…?” He started, but trailed off. Utterly distracted by the pure beauty of what he held in his hand.
“I engraved it,” you finished for him, “it’s why I was so twitchy whenever you dropped into the hull this week. I wanted it to be a surprise…”
The words you spoke barely registered on Din’s radar. He was far too busy admiring his gift. No one had ever gotten him a gift before, let alone one with this much thought put into it. The blade was shined to absolute perfection, and the signet was carved in deep. Adding it to his armor was the icing on the cake. Now he could carry a part of you within his armor forever. The thought of it brought a tear to his eye.
“Do you like it?” your timid voice broke back into his thoughts. But he still couldn’t speak. How was he supposed to put how he felt about this, about you into words. So instead he dropped the vibroblade and took you into his arms. Pouring all of his unspoken feelings into a kiss.
It was fiery and sweet. His tongue hungrily swept over your bottom lip, begging you to let him in. And let him in you did, opening for him with a pleased groan, the kind that got his blood pumping, and sent shockwaves down his spine.
He tangled his hands into your hair in an effort to bring you closer to him as his tongue danced over yours. No matter how close he brought you to him it would never be enough, he always wanted to feel you closer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” You panted, pulling away so you could catch your breath. Din nodded fervently, and chased after you for another kiss. You laughed at his enthusiasm and suddenly he felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. You’d gone through all this trouble for him, and he had nothing for you.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, as if sensing the sudden change in his mood.
“I- you, you got me this perfect thing and…” he trailed off, leaning back from you and rubbing the back of his neck, “and I didn’t get you anything.”
“Din,” you took his face in your hands and forced him to meet your eye line. Instinctively he leaned into your touch, sighing at how gently you touched his face. The feel of your fingers on his cheeks easing his worries to almost nothing.
“It’s okay, I have you, and that’s enough.” You assured him, the certainty in your voice made his heart skip a beat in the best possible way. As you spoke your fingers played absently at the beskar mythosaur skull hanging from his neck, and he got an idea. If he could carry a part of you with him, he wanted you to be able to do the same.
“Here,” he began, lifting the worn leather cord from his neck, and placing it around yours. “I want you to have it.”
“Din,” you started, emotions welling up in your throat, “you don’t have too…”
“I know.” Din cut you off, running the rough pad of his finger along your chest, admiring the way the necklace looked on you. “I want to. I want you to have a piece of me, just as I have a piece of you.”
“Mhi solus tome, Mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You whispered, in near perfect Mando’a and Din’s heart soared.
“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.” Din repeated in basic as the tears that rimmed his eyes threatened to fall.
“Happy Life Day, Riduur.” You said, pressing your forehead to his in a keldabe kiss, just as you would before you were married.
“Happy Life Day, Cyar’ika.” Din replied, closing his eyes as he soaked in the moment; your wedding vows still buzzing around in his head. If there was one thing in his life he was absolutely certain of, it was you. And he was never letting you go. This would be the first of many Life Day’s together, and next year he would make sure he bought you a gift.
#pedros12daysofchristmas#din djarin x reader#din djarin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#Pedro Pascal#din djarin x you#din djarin fic
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He’s Going to be Okay
I wrote a little fic for @doodledrawsthings ahit “Coffee shop AU” about one of Luka’s early days working at The Horizon! Nothing fancy but I got the idea and just went with it. Please enjoy!
Luka flexed his four fingers against his coiled torso, staring at the thick purple prongs with tempered despair. Yes, he had been getting used to his new fluid body after traveling around for a few years, but now that he had recently started working at The Horizon, he found himself aching for his human body even more.
Whenever he shapeshifted, he became acutely aware of just how much he had changed. While making coffee or wiping down tables, he could feel how flexible his arms and fingers were, like they were those cylindrical jelly toys meant to slip out of children’s hands the second they were squeezed too hard. He always feared if he grabbed a carafe or a customer’s change too firmly, his hands would melt back into purple goop.
Blinking, he ran his hand through the fur on his head. He had to get up. Hattie was at school, which he was so grateful that a chance for her to have a normal life as a kid again, and he had work, which was another wonderful blessing. But he was so tired.
Shaking himself as he uncoiled and floated over to the bathroom, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His pair of golden, glowing eyes and jack-o-lantern smile stared back at him. He longed for nothing more than to see his familiar, human features, but just the idea of shapeshifting just then drained him of non-existent energy.
Come on! He could do this! He had been working full time and taking grad classes on top of being a single father before all of this! He didn’t know the meaning of fatigue! Surely, he could keep his liquid body in the right shape for one measly shift!
Determined, he shrunk himself enough to curl his tail at the base of the sink as he gripped the edges. He stared into the mirror. It was only his forth day on the job and he wasn’t going to be late! He stared at his golden eyes, using the promise of coffee to summon enough strength to—
He groaned and hunched over the sink, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Okay. New plan! He would grab some clothes and commute as a noodle. Maybe a short flight through the forest would wake his body up enough to change.
Once he collected his things, he shrunk himself and snuck outside through his bedroom window. Luckily, most everyone in the complex had either left for work or school, so he only needed to slip past an older couple sitting on a bench at the boarder of the forest. He flew behind him, using their own shadows for cover, and darted into the woods.
Use the shadows to hide. Think about the coffee waiting at work. Remember he’s doing this for Hattie. Hattie. He has to be able to support her. His daughter is all he had left, and he knew he could be okay as long as he had her.
Feeling a touch more rejuvenated from both his mental pep talk and the fresh forest air, Luka landed behind the usual tree he used as cover when he started to slip in work. From his tree, he could smell the roasted coffee and his mouth watered. While Hattie did make him breakfast that morning—complete with lots of bacon, as if his sweetheart knew he needed an extra boost—he found himself still hungry. He vaguely wondered if all the shapeshifting lately required more fuel as well as sleep, but he shoved those thoughts down swiftly.
He didn’t really have time to dwell on these things.
With concentration, he first focused on shifting into a humanoid shape. The fluff around his neck easily molded into tufts of soft hair and shrinking his length to his human height was also a breeze. The hard part was splitting his tail into legs and his mittens into hands. But soon, he found himself standing—oh standing! How he missed feeling firmly planted on the ground on two feet!—and he could flex his humanoid fingers and thumbs. Next came his features, which he manifested while he shimmied into his pants.
Nose. Teeth that weren’t fangs. Human eyes—with pupils and everything!—and brows. He skipped the ears because he figured his hair would cover them anyway and he was still so tired. Cutting corners on his appearance might help. Soon enough, he felt himself in proper human-shape, even if he still felt like a water balloon with his innards shifting around in a magic shell.
As he buttoned his shirt—something so normal felt so good—he focused on changing his color to match how he was before. Brown hair, chestnut eyes, and not a drop of purple anywhere on his skin. He inhaled a steadying breath and walked around the shop and towards the entrance.
“Hey there, Luka,” MJ called from the cash register as Luka briskly walked towards the back. “How was drop-off?”
Drop-off? It took Luka a second as he put on his apron before he registered that MJ was asking about dropping Hattie off at school—the reason Luka had said he couldn’t take an early shift.
“Oh, yeah,” Luka offered a nervous smile. He felt bad not only that he had to lie about the real reason but also because he wished he could have walked Hattie to school instead of being confined to the apartment as a weird purple snake monster. “It was fine. She seems to be making friends already.”
That, he realized gratefully, was true and he couldn’t be happier for his daughter.
But it also meant he really needed to make sure he didn’t screw up this job.
“That’s great!” MJ offered a warm smile before turning back to the customers, his blue hair bouncing on top his head with his movement.
Luka glanced down as he tied his apron, smiling softly.
“Enough chatting!” Clover appeared from the back with a tray of plastic-wrapped pastries in hand. “Luka, can you get started on making drinks?”
“Oui, Chef!” Luka saluted, which earned an eyeroll from Clover.
“We outsource the pastries, you goof!” She gave him a gentle nudge before restocking the reserves beneath the display case.
Instead of quipping back, Luka just laughed as he crossed over to the espresso machine, where cups with orders were already lined up.
It felt good, he marveled, laughing with coworkers. How long had it been since he just spent time with friends? His gaze lingered on his human hand as he grabbed a cup.
Too long, he decided.
The first half of the shift went by in a blur. The mornings were always busiest, leaving Luka pushing out cup after cup. It wasn’t until MJ handed him the last order that Luka let himself relax long enough to breathe. Even then, when he read MJ’s instructions on what coffee to make, it just read, “Luka’s Favorite.”
“What?” Luka glanced over at MJ, taking a moment to briefly scan the room for anyone waiting for coffee.
“You’ve earned it,” MJ answered as his gaze narrowed on something in front of him and furrowed his brows. MJ removed his red-rimmed glasses and frowned at an apparent smudge before using the edge of his apron to clean up the lens. “I don’t know your favorite though,” MJ looked back up, squinting slightly at Luka without his glasses. “You’ll have to tell me a few times before I remember, as a heads up.”
“Chestnut-infused Columbian Bean with cream and sugar,” Luka replied softly, smiling as he started to make himself a cup. “What about you?”
MJ pushed his glasses back onto his nose and was about to respond before he titled his head with concern.
“Dude, you alright? You’ve got some pretty gnarly bags under your eyes.”
Luka’s heart dropped into his stomach as he instinctively lifted a hand to his face.
“Um, mind if I—” Luka gestured towards the bathroom and MJ nodded. Luka practically threw himself into the cramped employee bathroom and glanced up.
Oh no.
Sure enough, purple was starting to spread, starting at the base of his eyes. In addition, his chestnut irises were starting to reflect gold in the dim bathroom light. He glanced down at his hands, his usual indicator that he was out of time in his human-shape. They remained untouched by purple and he still had his thumbs.
Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He had made it through most of the shift and might be able to stick it out the rest of the day. Looking exhausted was fine, so long as he still looked human.
He inhaled a deep, calming breath. He would be fine. He just needed a cup of coffee and that should tide him over. He could stick it out! He could do this!
He returned to the counter with an anxious smile plastered on his face. MJ was wiping down the top of the display case when Luka went to finished making his coffee. While he poured the cream, he noted his hands were shaking but he ignored them.
“Luka,” MJ asked as Luka lifted the steaming cup to his lips, “is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah!” Luka smiled but he soon felt two sharp somethings—his fangs, he realized with dread—dig into his bottom lip. Panic gripped his chest and he glanced down at his hand holding the coffee cup.
The tips of his fingers were turning purple.
“Actually,” Luka’s shoulders slumped with resignation. He shifted the coffee cup into his other hand—which was still free of purple—and hid his changing hand behind his back. “I’m not—I think I need to—”
MJ zeroed in on his hand and for a second, Luka feared the purple was spreading and the cat was out of the bag, but his fears were soon assuaged when MJ spoke.
“Your hand is shaking more than my old dryer!” MJ explained in disbelief and worry. “Listen, do you need to go home? I can cover for the rest of the day.”
“I hate to leave you mid-shift again and with Clover off getting more cup sleeves—” Luka winced from the way his growing fangs scratched against his mouth as he stepped back towards the door.
“It’s all good,” MJ promised, his brows tight with concern. “Just get some rest before you need to pick up your daughter.”
“Thank you!” Luka just about dashed out the back door, “It won’t happen again!”
He barely made it outside before the purple creeped up his arm and his fingers on his one hand clenched back into cumbersome mittens. He ducked behind the tree and let out a frustrated groan as his thin control over his body dissolved.
Not wanting to ruin another pair of clothes, he placed his coffee down and swiftly undressed. He tried to maintain fingers on the hand that was just turning purple as he struggled with the buttons on his shirt. It took a few tries but he finally managed. The second he shed his shirt and pants, his purple form ballooned into the now familiar form of a large snake with fur and noodle arms.
Luka sighed, leaning against the bark as fatigue and sorrow ate at his spirit. Wet, golden tears slipped down familiar paths etched into his cheeks. He momentarily entertained the idea of remaining there, in the shadow of the tree and stewing in his sorry state, but on the other side of The Horizon, he could hear the hustle and bustle of the people of Subcon. The longer he remained in the open, the more he risked being seen.
Willing himself through the motions, he collected his clothes and draped them over his arm before scooping up his coffee cup between two thick fingers. Careful not to let the cup slip through his fingers because he knew that a little spilled coffee in that moment was all it would take to send him into a spiral of despair he might not be able to recover from, he headed home.
He hovered through the deeper part of the woods since he had nowhere to be anytime soon. Of course, he wanted to be home before Hattie, but that wasn’t for another hour or two. So, he took his time, letting his tail wiggle lackadaisically as he flitted from shadow to shadow. The warm coffee in his hand was a small comfort and the toasted flavor of the beans soothed him to the core.
He was mid-sip—eyes half-closed—when a small gasp came from below.
Luka’s eyes snapped fully open as he glanced down over his coffee cup. A young child in a dark purple hood with fluffy brown bangs that concealed most of their features was craning their neck to look up at him.
The two remained frozen as they stared at each other for a second. Luka clutched his clothes draped around his one arm and still held the coffee cup to his mouth while the child’s jaw hung open.
“Wowie! What are—” The child’s awe-filled voice snapped Luka out of his petrification and before the child could finish their sentence, Luka flew away.
Peck! He was seen! Sure, he had been seen before but usually not mid-day and never that up close! He glanced back at the kid, who thankfully wasn’t following him, just watching in shock.
That might come back to haunt him…
Oh well, Luka tried to console himself as he zipped back home. At least the kid didn’t see him shapeshifting, which was more likely to give away his identity. The thought of Luka being found out and having to tear Hattie from another home gripped his chest like ice, but he immediately forced himself to take deep breaths.
It was okay. The kid saw a purple noodle in the forest with coffee. It was fine. There was no reason to think he was at risk of being found out.
It was going to be okay. He would be okay. Hattie was safe and happy. Everything was okay.
The area behind the apartment was void of life and Luka had no trouble shrinking and flying up to his bedroom window, which he had left open for easy access. He flew in and soon expanded to fill the empty room. Sighing, he gingerly set down his cup before folding his clothes and stacking them by the closet. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he curled around himself, resting his head on his hands on the topmost coil.
His eyelids drooped as he flicked the tip of his tail back and forth. He wished he could have finished his shift. He wished he could have kept laughing with MJ and that he could have been there when Clover came back.
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would keep a few more tears from slipping out. No such luck. He heaved out a worn sign before shifting his focus on getting some sleep. Maybe if he rested enough, he would have enough energy to maintain a humanoid shape so he could cook a good dinner for Hattie. That would be nice.
He fell asleep repeating his new mantra.
It would be okay. He was going to be okay.
#a hat in time#ahit coffee shop au#doodledrawsthings#i hope this is okay!#i just really love this au and this was fun to write!#not sure i got all the details right#also i don't know MJs fav coffee order haha so i cut him off#but also i love this au right because coffee is like my fav thing and i'll take any excuse to give a character some coffee#that part about luka not wanting to drop his cup? that's absolutely me projecting and im sorry not sorry#but if you havent please check out doodledrawsthings!#their art is incredible#but yeah that's all i got#again reeeeally sorry if I messed up some key details but i hope this does the au justice!#my writing
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Secrets in the Snow
Chapter One: The Frost
Hey Hey! Here is the first chapter to my new winter/Christmas fic series. I hope you guys like it!
Read:
Chapter 2: The Mountains Call
Chapter 3: The Winds Whisper
Chapter 4: The Fires Kiss
Chapter 5: The Hearts Desire
Summary: You and Sam find yourselves trapped in a cabin for Christmas. Fluff ensues.
Warnings: Fluff, fluff, Christmas fluff
Parings: Sam x Reader
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The other cars' red brake lights in the drive-through were blurry from the rain pouring down as you stared out the windshield. Your arms were crossed on top of one another and leaning against the leather front seat, your chin resting on them peacefully. Your body was folded into itself, legs spread apart, and back stretched. Dean was in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel while the other flipped through the radio stations. Sam was on your other side, his hands curled around a lore book. The line moved, and Dean looked up to drive the car forward.
"Y/N, what do you want?" He asked you, his face turning toward you slightly.
"Usual." You mumbled against your arms.
"You got it, kiddo." He said as he pulled the impala up to the window and rolled the window down, practically yelling the order over the pounding rain.
"It's coming down out there." You said, lifting your head slightly.
"Yes, it is." Sam agreed, his face turning towards you, a small smirk on his face. Dean pulled up to the next window and took the food the woman handed him, passing it over to Sam, who was waiting with his hands out. He looked in the bag and found your food first, giving it to you over his shoulder while still looking in the bag. Dean took the drinks from her and gently placed them in the middle of the two boys before pulling away. He pulled into the parking lot and took his food from Sam in their perfect synchrony of movements. It was moments like this with the two of them that made you forget about the bad for a moment. Classic rock coming from the radio, Sam's nose buried in a book, Dean moaning around his burger even though he eats one once a day. The harmony of the three of you together, no monsters in sight. Just pure relaxation. You leaned against the back door and stretched your legs out on the backseat. You unwrapped your food and dug in, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand in between bites because, as usual, Dean forgot to ask for napkins.
"So, where are we going?" Dean asked Sam, balling up his food wrapper and tossing it into the bag.
"Wyoming. From what it seems like, they have a werewolf problem." Sam took a sip of his drink, not looking up from the map. You balled up your wrapper and threw it into the bag as well, taking a large gulp of drink and once again poking your head between the boys.
"Where in Wyoming?" You asked.
"Lander," Sam answered.
"Ah, so right in the mountains." You nodded, laying your head to the side and looking up at Sam's profile. He turned and smiled at you.
"I see you're using that geography book I got you." He sounded proud, making you feel proud too. The moment was cut short by Dean making exaggerated gagging sounds. You whipped your head around and landed a swift punch to his arm.
"Ow!" He shouted, grabbing his arm before falling into a fit of laughter. Acting like children made you laugh, too, chipping away at the weight on all of your shoulders.
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The loud rumble of the impala's engine sounded throughout the quiet and sleepy mountainside town. Your drive here had been beautiful, sweeping landscapes with racing rivers and snowcapped mountains that took your breath away. You all climbed out of the car and stretched out your tired limbs. You lugged your bag over your shoulder and made your way into the motel room, letting the crisp air fill your lungs. You stopped walking and tilted your head up slightly, looking up at a cloudless sky that seemed to go on forever. Your lips parted at how large the sky looked when no buildings were cutting into it, just endless blue. You made your way into the motel room and threw your bag down on the couch, leaning against the wall as you made your plan.
"Alright, since this is a pretty small town and we already know they have a werewolf problem, let's see where they could be hiding," Dean said, spreading the map over the small table and leaning on his hands.
"Well, if I were a werewolf, I would hide in the mountains. Small town, someone is going to find out sooner or later. I would hide where it would be harder for them to find me." Sam said, one long finger coming to point at the surrounding mountains out on the map.
"I agree." You said, pushing off the wall and coming to stand next to Sam.
"We could canvas the locals, see if there is something in the mountains worth looking into." Dean nodded, standing up straight.
"Sounds good to me." You said, watching Sam nod his head in agreement.
About an hour later, the three of you walked into a local bar and sat down at a booth. The entire place was decorated for Christmas. Lights were wrapped around almost every surface. Green wreaths with red bows, dawned many of the walls. Pinecones with fake snow sprinkled on them sat in bowls along the mantle above the fireplace. A large Christmas tree sat in the corner; its ornaments and tinsel made a feeling of nostalgia settle within you. Sam sat next to you, his large body squishing into yours, making you giggle. He always looked so big compared to everything else. Dean brought back three drinks and placed them in the center of the table. You grabbed yours and took some sips. Sam moved, and you could feel the heat from his skin, warming yours.
"Alright, I'm gonna canvas the bartender," Dean said after taking a long drag from his beer. Sam scoffed next to you, and you rolled your eyes.
"Have fun." You said, raising an eyebrow at him and letting a knowing smirk sit on your face, folding your hands on the table. Dean sent you a wink and his most charming smile before making his way over to the bar with a confident strut.
"I'm just gonna-uh," Sam mumbled awkwardly, pointing at Dean's empty seat. You wrinkled your forehead in confusion, tilting your head to the side.
"Oh! Yeah, of course." You said as you realized he was telling you he was moving away from you, there was a small part of you that didn't want him to. He slid across from you and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.
"Alright, who should we talk to?" He asked, looking around the rustic bar. You looked up at him and let a small smile pull at your lips.
"Uh.." You mumbled as you looked around at the crowd. You spotted a man in a black long sleeve shirt, a vest over his chest. His jeans were worn in, slightly dirty, and torn in places. His hands told you that he worked with them every day of his life. He moved his baseball cap, scratching his brown curls before placing the hat back on his head. "I'm going to talk to him," you said, pointing to the man, "he looks like he goes in the woods." You said, taking more swigs of your drink and looking back at Sam for a moment. He followed your previous gaze and looked at the man you were talking about. He turned around to you and pressed his lips together.
"If you need me, I'll be around." He assured you, eyes connecting with yours.
"I know, Sammy." You said in an even and peaceful tone, your shoulders relaxing. "See you around." You smiled as you stood up and made your way across the bar. You didn't see how Sam's eyes lingered on you for longer than necessary, how his hope drained slightly when you sauntered over to him, eyes wide and lips smiling, how his fists clenched when you grabbed his arm, your head was thrown back in laughter. He couldn't stop looking at you; no matter how hard he tried, his eyes always wandered around to you and your enticing personality. He couldn't pull himself away from the torture of you looking at you with another man.
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You licked your lips, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. He leaned in a little closer to you; his scent of body odor and beer invaded your nose quickly. You resisted the urge to turn away from him, instead of burying your nose in your drink and taking a large swig. He had told you his name at some point. Jeremy, was it? You didn't know, nor did you care. You just wanted to go back to the hotel and hang with your boys.
"Hey, do you know about any properties in the mountains?" You asked, lowering your head and looking up at him from under your lashes.
"Properties?" He asked, clearly confused and disinterested.
"Yeah, like properties with a lot of land? I could be in the market to move here." You blinked and tried to give him your most seductive smile.
"Oh, well, if it's land you want, there is the old McCall farm. No one has lived up there for a long time, and it has like 150 acres or something. We used to sneak up there when I was in high school, just to drink and party and such. The views from there are absolutely incredible." He said, his elbows coming to rest on the table. You ran your finger along the rim of your glass, collecting the moisture.
"Thank you." You said, sitting up slightly.
"No problem. Maybe I could take you up there to check it out?" He asked you, leaning in even closer and giving you a crooked grin.
"Uh, I don't know. I'm here with some friends." You looked around the bar and found Sam's eyes, sending him your signal by tapping three times on your cheek with your index finger. Within a few seconds, you felt your phone buzz. You acted surprised and pulled it from your pocket, looking at the screen with false confusion on your face.
Sam: Come back here.
"Something wrong?" Jeremy asked you, genuine concern crossed his face and made you actually feel bad for him.
"No, just my friends wanna head home." You said, standing up. "Thanks for the help."
"Ok, well, goodnight." He said with a dorky grin.
"Night." You said before walking back through the bar towards Sam, looking for Dean as you went. A hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you toward them, making you squeak in surprise. You practically fell into Dean's chest, his arm coming around your shoulders. You quickly relaxed into his familiar touch and wrapped your arm around his waist.
"Hey, bud." You said, smiling up at him.
"Hey, kid. You ready to go?" He asked you; his breath smelt like tequila, and he still had some salt around his lips, causing you to giggle. You nodded, unwrapping yourself from his embrace, and made your way over to Sam on the other side of the bar. He was waiting with your jacket in his large hands. He held it up, and you slid your arms in the holes, feeling the immediate warmth against your skin. The three of you made your way back to the motel, and you told the boys about the farm. You all decided to check it out now; make sure that was the place and know how many there were. Sam was once again looking over the map in the passenger seat. His hair was softly blowing from the heat coming out of the vents. You smiled to yourself, looking up at him out of the corner of your eye.
The old farm took you about 40 minutes to get to by the old dirt roads. Dean muttered under his breath the whole time about "mud in the undercarriage" and how baby was a "beautiful creature who didn't deserve this shit." Jeremy was right about the amount of land. The property seemed to stretch on forever. Its rolling hills with untrimmed grass made you feel so small against its massive landscape. You all climbed out of the car and made your way to the house as silently as you could. You peaked through a window, holding your breath not to make any noise, and looked around to see…nothing. No lights were on. No sound could be heard anywhere. There was just nothing. You turned to the boys and shrugged your shoulders. That's when you heard it, the low rumble of a growl. You all turned and spotted the werewolf sprinting full speed at you. His eyes were reflecting with the glow of the moon. He was headed straight for you, not even paying attention to the boys as he charged. You reached into the waistband of your pants and aimed at his heart. The shot was loud in your ears, echoing around your skull. You swallowed and lowered your weapon, the smoke showing against the night sky. He dropped instantly—the silver taking its effect.
"Nice sho-." Dean was cut off by the other werewolf; none of you saw. He sunk his massive claws into Dean's leg. Blood seeped through his torn jeans, and his body crumpled into itself. He groaned and grabbed at his torn flesh. You heard Sam pull in a loud breath before running over to his brother and collecting him into his arms. You aimed your gun again at the other wolf and fired. Missed. He kept running; he was too fast. You realized there was no way you could catch up to him and lowered your gun. You ran over to Dean, placing your arms around him to help Sam lift him into the car. You grabbed a towel out of the back and tied it around his leg, apologizing after he screamed in pain. Sam drove back to the motel. Tires kicked up dirt the entire way. You and Sam brought Dean inside and placed him onto one of the beds. It was bad. His wounds were deep and harsh.
"Hey, Dean, it's ok. We are gonna take care of you." You said to him gently, removing the towel as you spoke. It took an hour and a half. You and Sam were continually switching places, one of you stitching while the other wiped the blood away. Finally, it was done. Dean's eyes were rolling in his head from blood loss and exhaustion by the time you were done. Your fingers ached from holding the needle for so long. Sam's hands were caked in blood. Dean fell back and was almost instantly asleep. You took a breath, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your forearm.
"Thanks for the help, Y/N," Sam said, using a wet rag to clean his hands.
"Of course, we're a team." You stretched out your aching fingers while you grabbed clothes from your bag.
"This means it's up to us now," Sam replied, leaning on the sink counter.
"I know." This thought had crossed your mind too. Dean was in no shape to hunt for a while. You bit your lip and fully turned to face Sam. "We're hiking tomorrow, aren't we?" You asked him.
"Yeah." He sounded exhausted. You could hear the heaviness of his voice.
"Well then, we better get some rest." You said with a nod. You and Sam got cleaned up and laid down for the night. The couch cushions were lumpy and awkward under your body. You tried to roll onto your side, but that only made it slightly better. Dean was already snoring, and you could tell by his breathing that Sam was well on his way. You closed your eyes and pulled a deep breath into your lungs. It wasn't too long before the exhaustion of the day pulled you down into the black as well.
You and Sam finished packing your bags, taking extra clothing, food, water, and a GPS tracker.
"Hey, Y/N, what socks do you have on?" Sam asked you from his bed.
"Just my normal socks." You responded over your shoulder, throwing more things into your backpack.
"No, no, no, it's freezing out there. Here, take my wool socks." He said, turning to you with his hand stretched out. You took the socks and sent a small smile his way. You sat down on the couch and pulled them onto your feet. They were ridiculously large on you, but they were really warm and comfortable. You stuffed your feet back into your boots and grabbed your backpack. You threw the bag over your shoulders. You said bye to Dean. He gave you a small kiss on the cheek and wished you luck. You saw Sam send him a small wave before closing the door completely. You and Sam set forward on your hike up into the mountains. You were about a fourth of the way when you looked up at the sky.
"Hey, Sam! I don't like the looks of those clouds." You called to him, pointing up at the heavy clouds rolling in.
"Huh? Oh, no. I checked the weather report. They were only calling for a ten percent chance of precipitation." He responded with a half-smile before he kept walking. You continued behind him, but apprehension still sank into you.
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It took you five hours to get to the farm, giving yourself breaks for eating and hydrating. Your feet ached in your shoes. Your shoulders were screaming from the weight of the backpack, and your knees felt like they were about to give in at any moment. Your breath was fast in your lungs, hard breaths in and out. Due to your exhaustion, you almost missed the air's change how it grew thick with moisture and smelt of humidity. You glanced up to the sky again, seeing that the grey clouds had taken over the blue. The temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees as well, sending a chill through your bones. Wind through the trees blew your hair around you, and a worry made itself known within your gut. Sam seemed to notice the change, as well. His steps became smaller. Eyes turning to the sky. The first flake fell…then it seemed as if they all came at once. The surrounding air was filled with snowflakes that seemed to be coming from every direction. The wind picked up, and you could barely keep your eyes open. It was so loud, howling in your ears and slapping against any exposed skin. The snow was sticking to the ground and fast. Your boots were already covered in white powder, and you knew your jeans wouldn't hold up to the conditions. This was not a pretty snow. The flakes did not cascade on their way down, getting stuck on branches as they fell. It was not a scenic snowfall. This was a full-on blizzard, and you and Sam were trapped right in the middle of it.
"Ten percent, my ass!" You shouted over the screaming wind. Sam turned and gave you a "what do you want me to do about it?" expression.
"We have to find shelter." He said back.
"Shouldn't we head back?" You asked, wrapping your coat around you a little tighter.
"Not in this; looks like we are staying here tonight." Sam pointed to a cabin. It was on the land of the farm, but not quite near the house. It would be perfect for keeping an eye on the place for the werewolf's return. You looked at the cabin, back to him, then back at the house, before looking back at him and shrugging your shoulders.
"Alright." You said with a defeated sigh. You made your way into the cabin, peaking in the windows before using your lock pick to get inside. The first thing you noticed was the silence within the walls. It made your boots sound impossibly loud against the wood floors. You looked around at the bare cabin. Just an old couch sat in the middle of the living room; a bookshelf was against the left wall leading into the kitchen. The cabinets had a few cans still in them, some plates and glasses, but nothing to make a home with.
"How long do you think it's been since people have been here?" Sam asked you while he looked around the cabin too. You swiped at the counter and looked at the considerable amount of dust on your finger.
"I don't know. Months maybe." You took your backpack off and placed it on the floor.
"We should get a fire going," Sam announced, making his way back outside. You decided to stay in and take inventory of what you had. You opened cabinets and doors, finding everything you could. You found blankets and pillows, giving them a smell before placing them on the couch. Next, you looked at each can of food. Most were expired, but you found a few cans that were still good. You shook out the blankets, getting as much dust out as you could. You then found a broom and swept away all the dust and debris in front of the fireplace, making room for the blankets. Sam came back about a half-hour later with wood.
"Find much?" You asked, looking behind him to see if there was any more.
"Most was wet, but I found a pile, and the ones underneath were good." He knelt in front of the fireplace, placing the logs in one at a time. His cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. His hair was sprinkled with snow, and his lips were extra pink against the grey backdrop. You shook your head, not letting yourself go there, and knelt next to him, searching your bag for a lighter. You handed it to him and watched him light the wood on fire. You instantly felt warmer just watching the yellow flames begin to dance. You didn't want to get upset. You didn't want to let your mind wander to the worst of thoughts, but you could feel the "what ifs" creeping in slowly and surely. What if you were stuck here for longer than just tonight. What if you run out of food? How will you shower? Wash your clothes? You looked over at Sam and could tell he was thinking the same things.
"Sam, I'm nervous." You confessed, turning towards him.
"Me too," He didn't lie to you. "but we can do this, I promise. We just have to get through tonight." He took you by the shoulders and forced you to look into his eyes, setting his jaw and nodding once. You found comfort in his assurance. You found peace within his green and gold eyes, nodding to yourself and biting your lip. You and Sam were trapped in a cabin while a blizzard raged overnight. What could possibly go wrong?
Tags: @watermelonlipstick @melancauliflowers @strawqerrybby @spnfanficpond @calaofnoldor
#SPN#Sam Winchester#sam x reader#spn fanfic pond#SPN FANDOM#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#SPN Family#spn fanfic series#spn imagine#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural family#supernatural fandom#supernatural fic#supernatural imagine#sam imagine#SAMMY LOVE#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester imagine
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six: wandering the city while waiting for a train that'll never come, you stop to wave at a dog on the street only to realize you have mistaken a crumpled bag of mcdonald's for a chihuahua
i almost slipped and died in the shower today. luckily i didn't, because i read somewhere that slipping and dying in the shower makes it a little hard for you to finish writing a manuscript for a novel fictionalizing the events of your freshman spring semester that's definitely going to become a new york times bestseller in about four years' time, but i came pretty close. for a moment i had my hand on the wall and my legs splayed like a barbie doll stuck to a stripper pole and the matchbox world behind the shower curtain was slipping steadily south and heading lower still. and then i caught myself.
several minutes later i heard scuffling beyond the pale, soapy shower curtain and thought there might be someone creeping on me. if someone was creeping on me i had an idea of who it might be, which made the prospect all the more likely and infinitely more convincing inside the grapefruit-sized thing i called my brain. then i heard the clap of god's hands in an ashen sky, and i knew. this was no man made disaster-in-waiting. it had begun to rain.
it didn't rain for long. five minutes at best, two if my grasp on the spatial-temporal continuum is worse than i'd imagined (this is very likely; the stars pass me by faster than i can count them these days), but long enough that anyone who happened to be outside when that first teardrop fell from the sky got a little wet. a little fucked up, if you will, which, hey. good for him. he deserves to get a little fucked up.
but i get carried away. please excuse my personal grievances. this is not a lament, it is a swimming pool. full of tiny colorful fish which flit around at its bottom, chasing strands of sunlight like children on a playground.
the weather forecast says it'll rain again tomorrow, and maybe the day after, too, if the world stays sad enough to let it happen. it makes me nostalgic. when i left in february monsoon season was in full swing, tearing trees from their roots with big meaty hands and making every fleeting boring moment into the kind of gray sunday afternoon on which i imagine the directors of romantic dramas like to shoot break-ups. rain in singapore looks different. it's not a bucket full of water, it's a room. a blue room against a silver sky. your socks stuck to your ankles with the kind of grim determination that makes you almost a little sad to peel them off, to toss them in the washing machine behind the kitchen. there's a little balcony behind the kitchen in the house you left in february, with a washing machine and a ledge for sitting on and a dryer that doesn't work. you used to go there when you wanted to check on the restaurant across the street. from here you can make out the round, blue-rimmed tables that attract students, biking enthusiasts, three am brawls between red-faced european men and their red-faced european friends. if there's noise on this side of the street, it's probably coming from there.
summer. summer reminds me of home. so far i've been telling people that the association is a bad one, and it certainly isn't a lie, but it's not a whole truth either, if one believes in the matter of whole truths to begin with. i'm starting to think maybe there are only skim-milk truths, clotted cream truths, 0% fat yogurt truths. truths that change shape when you aren't looking. we aren't looking most of the time, after all. we're very busy people. all of us. we're trying to change the world.
and for what? who are we trying to save? do you want to live forever? that's the goal, isn't it. i mean it's definitely mine. i won't blame you if the concept of death sits on your shoulder like a fourth generation ipod touch with a broken home button, whispering really fucked up shit into your ear when you're alone. i mean it definitely does for me.
puzzle-girl is in new york now, last i checked. good for her. i hear new york is full of lights and electricity and car exhaust. maybe one day she will learn that friendship isn't an emergency help-line. probably not. my friend thinks she will, thinks we'll come back around in our junior year and everyone will see us stuck to each other again like two grotesque modern art pieces drilled back-to-back into a museum exhibit wall only with a firm mutual understanding of what boundaries are, but i have my doubts.
once someone told me with the kind of half-fake half-genuine smile that makes you wonder if AI technology has advanced far enough to mimic the complexities of stupid hormonal teenagers with really bad interpersonal issues after all that i was blooming. coincidentally all the flowers on campus had suddenly decided to poke their heads out of the dirt like babies busting their way out of refrigerators, guns blazing, hearts shot to pieces, so it's not like he was completely bullshitting me. he was only ninety-eight percent bullshitting me. the two percent is why he comes up in my writing as often as he does, all this time later. like i think he was ninety-eight percent clown but two percent circus, two percent red-nosed reindeer trying to unionize behind a striped curtain, two percent something real. or at least i like to think that way. i'm a writer. we have to pretend there's something to write about. or else what will we write about?
so yeah. one time someone told me i was blooming. at the time i was embarrassed. and then after the story put an abrupt end to itself i was madly obsessed with the idea of flowers jutting out of cracks in the earth, gold pouring forth from blood-wounds, poinsettia eyes, whatever, whatever, and then the flowers started wilting. standing on the path outside my dorm i was like what the fuck? why the hell is everything dying? it's been like three days, god, what are you guys made of, tissue paper?
i was talking to the flowers. which died in spite of my indignation, so that's one for nature, zero for me. good for them. see you next spring, when things will, hopefully, be different. i don't have a plan as much as i have a dream i'd like to see walk into reality on three legs and a pitchfork. but it's a good dream. i promise.
the sky's clear as glass now. it's so bright i could probably stick my hand up there and stir vigorously and then an angel would emerge from the ether, rubbing her eye sleepily with the back of her hand. that's the kind of clarity i'm talking about. making metaphors about christianity-clarity. i am lonely and my dreams are full of beautiful people-clarity.
that's a lie-clarity. loneliness is, as mentioned in a previous installment of the meandering car accident i call this blog, a choice, and i'm too lazy and full of my own slew of interpersonal issues to commit to something like that. but summer is new, and it's like i'm getting used to the body in my basement all over again. how do i step around it, how do i make sure i don't look at its face? and its eyes, oh, those eyes. how terrible. how full of absence.
there will be exactly two hundred students on campus when summer move-ins are finished next week. this school has a population of nearly sixteen hundred. what are we doing?
research. academia. learning a new language. road trips. plane trips. horse riding lessons. research. academia. learning a new language. relationships. spaceships. building a ladder to the moon.
it feels like the sun never sets sometimes. the hours slide into one another like tectonic plates beneath the surface of the world and yet the sky remains just as it looked this afternoon, milk-white and pale as death. a hot summer wind blows and sends the clouds careening sideways into each other, and yet from this distance nothing changes. drop a body in a bathtub and nothing changes. beat someone up and nothing changes. survive thirteen weeks of bad mistakes and then worse ones, midnight mistakes, thursday evening mistakes, the kind of mistake you don't think you'll ever be able to write about, and still nothing changes.
they say there's always a silver lining but what if i want fur instead? let's say i want a fur-lined sky with fur-lined clouds and a little heart-shaped toy that makes a sound when you step on it. let's say i want to be fifteen again. the sky doesn't care. it still looks like a damn sky. the sky doesn't do things out of sentimentality.
it's just kind of there. today i'm just kind of here. today we're all alive. good for you. good for me. good thing my hand was on the wall when i slipped in the shower, so i could get out and dry my hair and then sit down in this shitty weird-smelling lounge with my laptop with the cracked touchpad and my cool elmo slippers, and tell you about this solitary life on mars.
05.26.2021
#i just realized i put my mask on inside out. luckily i have been alone in this lounge for thirty minutes and it is a new mask#so minimal damage has been done but shame on me anyway. i will go reflect in the shame corner now
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The Way You Look At Her [S.B.]
Character: Sirius Black
Word Count: 3674
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: Maybe there really is a fine line between hate and love.
Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: Guess who’s backk! And with a cheesy, probably all-over-the-place Sirius fic. Enjoy!
+ + + + +
It was nearing 4pm; The Three Broomsticks was as busy as you’d ever seen it. But then, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and cold outside - of course everyone would want cover from the snow. You pulled your half full butterbeer to you and hoped no one would remember it was your turn to battle your way through the swarms of Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade residents just to get to the bar to buy more drinks.
A pretty bar maid passed by the table you were sat at, taking the empty glasses that had piled up in the middle, leaning forward to grab the last glass before weaving back through the people standing and laughing around.
“I just can’t believe that in a few months time, we’ll be leaving Hogwarts for good!” Lily said, shaking her head and frowning a bit. You glanced over at your red-headed best friend and nodded, “I know, it’s gonna be so sad knowing we’re not going back in September.” If you were being truly honest, none of you knew if you’d actually even be alive come September, due to the impending war and rise of Voldemort and his death eaters.
Sat beside Lily, James wrapped his arm around her shoulders. You’d never known them to be so happy, and you were so glad they had found each other. There were a few bumps in the road, but the couple had finally gotten together a few months back and had been the cutest couple at Hogwarts.
Which should make you happy. In fact, this whole afternoon would’ve been amazing, if not for the man sat two seats away from you, between Remus and Marlene.
He sat there, wearing his worn leather jacket, fingers curled around his butterbeer glass as he smirked at something James said, looking like a goddamn snack. Arsehole.
You scowled, looking down at your drink. Sirius Black was the bane of your existence, a plague in your otherwise half-decent world. A handsome, god-like plague, but a plague all the same.
“Another round?” You heard him announce as he looked around the table. “We better get going soon actually,” Remus noted, checking the time, “We’re due to head back to school soon.”
“C’mon, live a little, Moony! We all know we could just sneak back whenever we want. Let’s have another and wait for the snow to pass,” Sirius said as he stood up. Remus grumbled something inaudible under his breath, before replying, “Fine, suit yourself.”
Sirius smirked, looking around at everyone - all seven of you (James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and yourself) - before standing up, “I’ll be right back.”
You watched his retreating figure, glaring holes into the back of his head as he leant casually against the bar.
Merlin, you hated him.
“We all know that’s a lie.”
Your head whipped over to the source of the voice, your eyes fixating on James as you narrowed them slightly, “What’s a lie?”
“That you hate our Pads, we all know you don’t,” he shrugged matter-of-factly. You hadn’t realised you’d said anything out loud but...
“I do. He’s arrogant, he’s conceited, not to mention the most annoying and loathsome toad I have ever had the displeasure to come across in my life.”
“Now now, L/n! No need to be so feisty,” Sirius drawled.
You fought the need to roll your eyes. He passed around the butterbeers, everyone thanking him before you realised he’d missed you out.
“Think you bought one less than we need, Sirius,” Marlene said, looking over at him. He glanced at her before staring over at you. “Whoops, my bad, guess you’ll have to go without, L/n,” he said, feigning an apology.
You glared at him, clenching your fists under the table, before smiling sweetly and replying sarcastically, “No no, it’s fine, we all know how hard it can be to count to eight.”
Sirius sat, looking at you for a moment, tongue darting out across his bottom lip, before scoffing at you and shaking his head. He then shot you a cheeky smile as he pushed his own glass towards you, nodding towards it. He then turned away, starting up a conversation with Remus, Marlene and Dorcas instead.
You were silent, reluctantly taking the drink and running your finger around the rim of the glass.
James tried to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his butterbeer, before answering, “Just tell him.” Raising an eyebrow, feigning your confusion, you tap your fingers on the table next to your glass, “Tell him what?”
“That you like him.”
You nearly choked on air, “Well, you know, I would, but I don’t like him, so yeah I’m not gonna do that. But thanks for your suggestion.”
“You’re the one who always complains about him being with other girls. In fact, you can’t seem to stop talking about him, ergo, you like him!” James continued, Lily humming in agreement next to him.
You glanced over at the boy in question to find him deep in conversation - thankfully he wasn’t hearing what James was saying.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Look Potter, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I will spell it out in plain English so then maybe you’ll understand. I... do not... like... Sirius... Black. In a platonic or non-platonic way. I merely put up with him as I am quite fond of our friendship, though right now I am unsure as to why. Just as I am unsure as to why you’re friends with that asshat in the first place.”
James laughs, shaking his head, “You’re just saying that because you know deep down I’m right. If it’s any consolation, he likes you too.”
“Highly debatable,” you replied, pushing your glass away from you.
____________________
Monday mornings were the worst. Particularly this morning. You stumbled from your dorm room and into your common room, trying to do your tie on the move. You were already late, which meant that you’d have to miss out on breakfast, which means you’d have to sit through Slughorn droning on about potions whilst your stomach rumbled.
You grumbled to yourself as you shoved your bag onto your shoulder and ran towards your potions classroom. You’d be late regardless, but better to be five minutes late than half an hour.
“You’re late, Ms L/n. 10 points from Y/h,” Slughorn states as you enter the classroom in a hurry. You cheeks turn red as you realise everyone is staring at you. “Sorry Professor,” you ducked your head down, taking your usual seat next to Lily.
“As I was saying, today we will be starting a project where you will choose a potion and create it outside of classroom hours. You will be finding the ingredients and preparing the potions yourself, and you will be working in pairs for this-“ you looked over at Lily who grinned back at you, “- assigned by myself.”
There were hushed murmurs across the class at the revelation, getting louder as Slughorn read out names. Your heart beat faster. Please don’t put me with Black, please don’t put me with Black, please don’t-
“L/n and Black...”
You groaned, your head dropping to the table as you muttered out a string of curses.
“Why hello there L/n!”
”Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, siting up and tilting your head back in annoyance, “Could this day actually get any worse?!” “Tsk tsk, language,” Sirius chastised with a smirk, leaning towards you and thoroughly enjoying the fact that you were less than impressed with the general goings on in your life at this moment in time.
He was so close to you that all it would take was you to turn your head and you’d be practically kissing him.
Stop thinking about kissing him! ____________________
You were sat in the library, waiting for Sirius to show up - that is, if he was actually going to show - flipping through a book on advanced potions and making notes on your favourites. You’d agreed to meet here as you had a free afternoon, however he was late - something you’d foreseen happening anyway but it didn’t make it any less annoying.
You’d been there a couple of hours before the library door finally swung open and Sirius strolled in, shirt untucked, collar up and him redoing up his buttons.
“Busy day?” You asked him sarcastically as you looked up at him, eyeing the lipstick stain on his neck. Your heart clenched, but you refused to think about why this was. He chose to ignore you, “I lost track of time.” “Clearly,” you commented, raising your eyebrows.
He scoffed, pulling his collar down, “Let’s just get this work done. What potion are we doing?”
“The Calming Draught. It’s one the easiest to collect the ingredients for, but just complicated enough to earn a high grade on,” you explained, looking back down at your textbook.
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Sirius commenter as he sat down across from you. “Yes well I’ve been here for nearly three hours now, whilst you were off with some girl in a broom cupboard somewhere,” you offered him a sarcastic smile.
“Stop being so jealous L/n, it’s not a good colour on you,” he teased, offering you a lazy smirk, “Besides, you could be one of those girls in the broom cupboard if that’s what you want.”
You pushed your potions textbook over to him and gestured at him to read it. Looking at his handsome face, his chiselled jawline and the way he ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he started reading, you couldn’t blame the girls. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to say no yourself.
Over your dead body would you ever admit that to him.
“I can assure you that is the last place I’d ever want to be,” you lied.
____________________
About a week later, you were sat with Lily eating dinner when you noticed Sirius entering the Great Hall.
Lily noticed the change in your demeanour and tilted her head to one side, silently asking if you were okay. You gave her a nod and a fake smile, one you were glad she didn’t look too much into.
The black haired boy sat beside his friends at the end of the table you were sat on; you could hear them laughing and joking around. Allowing yourself a glance over as you took a sip of your drink, you saw Sirius was already looking your way, so you quickly turned back to Lily.
You were so focused on not staring in his direction that you didn’t notice that he’d moved to sit beside you, until you felt an arm brush against your own. You looked up at him, your heart jolting as you tried to keep a blush from forming.
“Sirius, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked carefully. “Can’t a guy sit next to one of his friends now?” He asked with a smile, grabbing some food and putting it onto his plate. You barely noticed Lily sliding down the bench towards James as you turned fully towards him, “I feel like you want something.
“I want a lot of things. Right now though, all I was gonna ask is if you got all the ingredients for that potion or if you need me to get anything.”
“Oh! I um... I managed to get everything already, I just need to start actually preparing it. I’m planning on using one of the potions classrooms after dinner, you’re welcome to join me.”
“Gladly.”
____________________
Sirius followed you into the empty potions classroom, watching as you brought out your textbook from your bag.
“Would you mind grabbing a cauldron from the cupboard please?” You asked as you set out the ingredients.
The black haired boy opened the cupboard at the back and grabbed a cauldron out for you, placing it on your table.
“I’ve got all the ingredients here, including lavender, peppermint and crocodile heart. It says if we do this correctly, the potion should be a blue colour,” you explained to him, turning and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realised how close he was standing behind you.
“Just let me know what you need me to do L/n and I’ll do it,” Sirius said, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a small smirk. You nodded, getting started on the potion.
You were just about to add the peppermint when you glanced over at Sirius, who was sat at the table, resting his chin on his hands and staring at you with an odd look in his eye.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and looking away from his gaze.
”Like what? ‘M not looking at you in any kind of way,” he shrugged innocently.
You raised an eyebrow at him before shaking your head and letting out a soft laugh, “Never mind.”
____________________
The morning after, you, Lily, James, Remus and Sirius were eating breakfast.
“Anyone got any plans for the summer?” Remus asked as he flipped through the morning newspaper.
“Well, I’m going to spend it with my Lilyflower here,” James spoke dreamily as he leant his head onto her shoulder. She raked her hand through his head before saying casually, “We’re thinking of getting married.”
Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice and Remus leant over to pat his back, “You’re getting married?!”
“We’re thinking about it. What with the war rising and all, we don’t want to wait in case heaven forbid something happens to us,” Lily explained. “We know we want to spend the rest of our lives together, so why not make it official,” James added.
“You’ll need a wedding dress! Oh there’s been some really lovely designs come out recently, we’ll have to take a look once we get back home,” You grinned at Lily.
“I want something simple I reckon, nothing extravagant, maybe a bit of lace,” she mused.
“That would suit you so well. There’s so many pretty designs, I saw a few when I was shopping with my cousin for hers - I think I’d want one of the ball gown ones, or maybe a mermaid cut.”
“That’s if you can trick some poor sod into marrying you,” Sirius muttered, though it was loud enough for the table to hear and you knew he knew it.
“You’re insufferable,” you scowled, “Why are you being such a git?” This earned a half-assed shrug from him. If Sirius was honest with himself, he didn’t really know why he was himself, all he knew was that as soon as he said it, he regretted it.
That, and he realised he kinda wanted to be that poor sod he spoke about.
“One thing for sure, I don’t think I ever went to get married,” he covered smoothly.
“Oh?” Lily asked, subconsciously running her hand through James’ hair, “You don’t?”
You looked up at him in curiosity too.
“Nah. It’s... it’s not for me. I couldn’t stick to one girl,” he shook his head. He was lying, he just didn’t want to admit the girl he would settle down with probably wouldn’t settle down with him.
“Oh right... I forgot who we were talking to,” you said, shaking your head. “What do you mean?” Sirius asked with a frown.
“Sirius Black: a new girl every night, no strings, no feelings. Never taking anything further. Leave them before they leave you right?”
That hurt him. Somehow, despite everything he’d been through with his parents, you sharing that you thought about him like that hurt more. He glared down at his plate. “Yeah, I’d prefer that than being like you. At least I know I’m wanted,” Sirius retaliated, not thinking about what he was saying until the words had left his mouth. He froze - why did he say that?
You gave a fake smile, and let out a humourless laugh, “I don’t have to deal with this.” Standing up, you grab your a few bits of food and bid goodbye to James, Lily and Remus - “I’ll see you guys in class.” - before heading out of the Great Hall.
“Y/n, wait!” Lily jumped up, running after you.
“Padfoot...” Remus shook his head at him. Sirius clenched his jaw, “What.” Sighing, James took a bite of his toast, “Just, sometimes you don’t know you’ve got a good thing when you’ve got it.”
“What are you talking about,” Sirius frowned. James nodded in the direction you had just ran off in. “Y/n?” Sirius said in surprise.
“I see the way you look at her Pads.”
Sirius scoffed, shaking his head.
”You look at her like she holds all the answers to the universe, like she’s your moon and stars, like you can’t bear to be without her. You like her. You do, don’t lie to me Pads, I can see right through you.”
Sighing, Sirius looked down at his drink, “So what if I do, she doesn’t like me like that.”
“You don’t see it, do you?” Remus let out a small smile as he turned the page of his newspaper. “See what?”
“You’re fucking oblivious mate.”
____________________
“I don’t know why I let him get to me,” You shook your head as you stood outside the bar. “It’s because you care about him,” Lily said gently, squeezing your shoulder gently.
“Yeah? Well I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care about him, or his stupid face or his stupid suits or his stupid... jawline,” you sighed.
“I... I think I love him, Lily. I didn’t think I did before, but I’ve realised I do. And he’s an asshole. An utter and complete asshole and I... I fancy the fucking pants off of him. And I didn’t even realise. He came into the library after clearly being with someone the other week, his shirt and shirt a mess and-and I got annoyed. I thought it was just because he as a person annoys me but I’ve realised... well it’s because I wanted to be her. Whoever she was.”
Lily wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a hug. “I think I’m just going to go to my dorm and skip class,” you whispered, hugging her back, “You head back to James and enjoy the rest of the day, okay?”
You pulled away, smiling encouragingly at Lily, who looked reluctant to let you go.
“I’ll come to check on you later,,” she finally said helplessly.
”I’m counting on it.”
____________________
“She likes you,” James said bluntly, shaking his head at his best friend. “What are you talking about?”
“She likes you. And you sleeping with other girls all the time hurts her,” James said as Lily rejoined the table.
“What? No it doesn’t,” Sirius shook his head, though he didn’t sound certain.
“Are you sure about that?” Lily asked. “Of course I’m sure, why would she care who I sleep with?”
”Why would anyone?” Lily posed the question pointedly. Sirius shrugged, staring down at his drink.
“For Merlin’s sake, she likes you Pads. Fuck, for someone so smart you sure can be stupid,” Remus said.
“Y/n doesn’t like me. Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius shook his head. He paused for a moment as the news sunk in, “Y/n likes me?”
At the nods from Lily and James, Sirius jumped up and ran out of the hall.
He sprinted towards your common room, dashing around a corner as he saw a glimpse of your h/c hair.
“Y/n! Y/n wait!”
“Y/n!” you heard your name being called out. You turned around to see Sirius chasing after you.
“What could you possibly want now? You’ve been nothing but a dick to me! I thought maybe we’d become friends through bloody working together but clearly I was wrong! So what is it? What do you want?”
“I want to tell you I’ve decided that maybe I might want to get married some day.”
“What? Why would I need to know that?”
“Because I’ve found someone I want to marry.”
Your heart clenched - that hurt more than you expected.
“I thought you ‘couldn’t stick to one girl’,” you pointed out bitterly, raising an eyebrow in surprise. He gave a small shrug, “Yeah well, maybe I’ve decided I want to.” “Why the change of mind?”
“Someone changed it for me,” he smiled.
You nodded, swallowing as you tried to keep the smile from falling off your face, “Why are you telling me this?”
He leaned forward and it was only then that you realised how close he was to you. Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself getting lost in the darkness of his eyes. He leant down slowly, nudging his nose against yours as he brushed his lips across your own gently. You smiled sadly, pulling away from him slowly, patting him on his chest.
“I er... I should go...” you said softly, moving out of his arms and trying to walk away. Sirius’ heart clenched, “Wait!”
He followed you down the hallway, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back to him, “Why are you running away?”
“I’m panicking!” You looked into his grey eyes and tried to step back, but he held you close.
“Why?” He whispered, as if his voice would break if he spoke any louder.
“Because you’re Sirius Black, you-you sleep with girls and leave them soon after. I-I don’t want to be just another one of them,” you stuttered softly, closing your eyes and tilting your head down.
You felt him brush his fingers under your chin and slowing move your head up to face his as your eyes opened to meet his. He leant forward, his lips just about brushing yours again, “You’re not just another one of them sweetheart.”
“Then what am I?”
Sirius let out a breathy laugh and shook his head fondly. “You’re mine,” he murmured, before his lips were on yours.
#sirius#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius black imagines#marauders x reader#marauders
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