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asterjennifer · 2 years

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Mystictober 2022 | Day 18 - Favorite Ending

Summary: (Based on the Secret Ending)

Sometimes watching the two brothers interact let all the thoughts bubble back up again.

They're more than the past, aren't they.

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What she wouldn't surrender if only she's capable of turning back time to meet them before it all went downhill. Or worse than before, she sighed. These times they must've spend in regret, leaving their hearts arduous in the depths that nobody was able to supervise over the daytime.

It's so bright then, the colors of the world being lit by the mother of all. Neither of them found a harmonizing meaning in the sun being the mother of all; she understood as it had been used against their rights and to justify pain before. How could she ever judge the doubt that comes from such hurtful experience.

These days drifted into motion; they went along with whatever hung in the air that moment. The shifts could become sudden, almost manic despite their best trying to do it differently. Sometimes it's Saeoyung, more days it came from Saeran. She got her moments as well although they're not as heavily rooted as theirs.

She enjoyed them both for their very own qualities. Twins, and yet, they couldn't be more opposite in behavior. It's formed due to past experiences and as everyone's aware, nobody certainly would doubt it took their worlds apart. Sometimes it's obvious enough to have her eyes tear up. A single thought at the hitting mark and she felt the pain in their place.

It took their soul out before; either it's the light that every child owned in the heart or it's the simple lack of love throughout the years. Saeran had it all in Mint Eye; and Saeyoung had it all in the agency. They didn't take anything from each other when it came to tragic events. So much work, so much to fix for metaphorical dust.

Saeyoung responded to the constant pressure of ignorance by owing up to the lost time. But the extreme flame inside his chest suffocated not only the people around him when it got lost in fear, it's as if he's trying to carry everyone in his two fragile human hands perfectly. How could anyone live up to such Godlike task? It's what hurt him.

Saeran's way to reciprocate had always been less active because of the deep anger echoing in the corners of his mind. To be far away's doing the favor for everyone, he acted that way in contradiction to Saeyoung's believes. He thought it's better to isolate himself to ensure neither he nor anyone else would suffer any further through his destructive hands.

What to tell two brothers that never had experienced true love in their childhood, not even in their early adulthood? What's there to ease the pain out they grew up with each day? How to fix the wounds cut so deep they would forever leave scars to both their physical and mental health? Which were the magic words helping them out of the misery into better times?

It seemed lost, she thought. Perhaps it wasn't her issue to work through in the first place. It probably wasn't the group's job picking up these thousand broken pieces in order to repair them again. What if it's only doable by the hands that got their hearts crumbled in front of their feet? What is there to put back together?

Then again, she smiled as she watched Saeran shove the face of his older twin away once the other appeared excited to show a video on his phone; they didn't have to be necessarily broken.

Whether it's considered illness or diagnosed as depression, it didn't implicate they were in need of some kind of fix up. Maybe all they have been through got them stronger for the future to come; the one where they're spending time together like in the younger days. Presumably no issue as she watched the younger one frown and the other laugh since he found his facial expression funny.

They weren't in need of repair, it's not that. All they needed was time with each other to grow back the hole that had been torn open by outsiders. And as long as nobody's going to rip it apart once again; they would be fine. She could tell just by looking at their similar faces speaking so many different stories.

Saeyoung and Saeran weren't beyond hope. Not broken and not in need of anyone's light to make the past magical disappear. These two were nothing but siblings working out their relationship for the better.

#mm_mystictober2022 #mm mystictober2022 #choi twins #Saeran & Saeyoung #mystic messenger #mm #saeran choi #saeran #saeyoung choi #saeyoung #mystic messenger Saeyoung #mystic messenger Saeran #fluff #comfort #ff #au #pov #light angst

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axther · 3 years

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𝐍 𝐎 𝐁 𝐎 𝐃 𝐘

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. || 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings: falling from a great height, yandere, obsessive behaviour

taglist: @ererokii, @patt-writes-stuff

i’ve hit 200 followers!! <3 thank you all and I am super grateful for each and every one of you!

Nobody understood Xiao.

His life was riddled with contradictions. He was tossed from one foul life to the next, with pain and horror at every corner. He felt he deserved it, knew he did. But was it so terrible to want something more than to just wait for his inevitable death? Was he such a coward to want to feel alright?

Nobody understood him.

There were very few that even attempted. The traveller and Verr Goldet were the only ones he really considered to be his friends, but nothing more. He didn’t speak to them unless they approached him first. He just stood on the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wondered how long it would take for him to die if he leapt.

But then he saw her.

She was, in a word, moonlight. It was one of the lonelier, quiet nights at the Inn and right after the Lantern Rite Festival. There were even some Xiao lanterns, oddly enough, still laying around. The moon was rounder and brighter than Xiao had ever seen, though it might’ve just been because of her. She walked the docks, barely a whisper of a person with a glow all about her. The stars and the sea seemed to have a gravitational pull around her, lapping at the sky and docks, trying to touch even the air around her. She was divine in every right, and for the first time in years, Xiao felt the world around him melt away. This was different from any of the other times that he felt the distance between him and Tevyat. Tevyat was rough, sharp and serrated like a knife when he wandered into the depths of his mind. But this time, it was smooth. It was a pillow for him to sit on as he watched this random woman walk past the pier and into the quiet market.

He leaned against the railing, carefully watching her stop by the bridge and pause. She held her hand out, and a small, white crystalfly fluttered to life in her palm. She seemed to whisper soft words to it, and Xiao felt a deep tugging in his heart. He wanted to know what she said, how it would feel if she whispered into his ears on quiet nights like this. Maybe what her hand, on his back, would feel like. Were they calloused? Scarred? Or were they soft? Long or short nails?

Xiao placed his head in his hands, feeling almost human as he stared at her. The dress she wore was simple but glowed even amongst the dim lanterns. She was a walking beam of moonlight, and Xiao realised with a growing feeling of dread that she wasn’t human. No, the way she stepped and the little wings in her hand proved otherwise. The way that no one batted an eye at her, but simply went on with their sickly sweet night proved otherwise, the way that she was too beautiful and too whole proved otherwise.

She was a moon spirit, Xiao realised.

He broke from the balcony to see her move again, dashing to the other side in hopes of not missing a glimpse of her. Something in him recoiled at the sight of her, sick, but he shoved it down. No, she was too beautiful and sweet and kind to make him feel disgusting. No matter if she was an adeptus, a spirit, or even Rex Lapis in disguise. No, she was something far beyond. And so was Xiao, he realised. Something in him longed for her in a way he hadn't felt in so, so long. And as she set the little crystalfly free, she turned and looked up, soft eyes going wide at the sight of Xiao. They were like the moon themselves, bright and so comforting that Xiao never wanted to let go. He was leaning over the side of the balcony, near falling over, hoping that she could never break eye contact with him again. But she slowly turned, walking back to the pier, and Xiao realised she was leaving.

Something in him snapped.

He leapt down from the balcony, hopping from eave to eave as fast as he could. He felt delusional, drunk on something he hadn't tasted in years. His heart raced and his head pounded as he slammed into the pier in a way that would've killed any lesser man. She was barely in front of him, and for a second, Xiao caught a whiff of some sort of distance, addictive scent-qingxin, rich and divine. It made him almost dizzy, and for a split second, he wanted nothing more than hold her so tight in his arms that the scent oozed out of her like blood and she would stain him forever. Qingxin was marked for him forever, rotting his head and leaving it all hollow.

"You-!" She gasped and clutched her hand to her heart. "Are you alright?!"

Her voice was melodic, a sweet, holy song that made his head feel heavy. He didn't realise he was panting until he saw her concerned gaze fall upon him, the lonely sinner.

"I..." At once, all words seemed to escape Xiao. They were stolen by her satellite soul, sucked in and kept for her own. Was this her own greed, or her unknowing iron grip? Was Xiao going mad?

"Please, sir!" She put her hand on Xiao's cheek, and it was cold like he dipped his head into the ocean. It was so, so cold, and Xiao leaned in as a man starved. "That fall...though, I don't think you're human..."

"Xiao." Xiao's voice came out rougher than he ever thought he was capable of, and he shut his eyes. "I am...Xiao."

"Xiao?" She started pulling her hand away, but Xiao snapped his arm up to keep it in place. It made his head stop pounding, and the night seem so peaceful.

"Wait." He seemed only capable of one word at a time, but he was fine with it. Being even in the presence of her was enough for him.

"Oh, no..." The young woman trailed off, still trying to tug her hand away. "You've..."

"Your name?" Xiao interrupted before mentally kicking himself. How dare he stop such a song from flowing? Who was he before this glorious angel?

"YN-! Oh!" She gasped, finally ripping her arm away. "I must go, I'm so sorry..."

"Wait!" Xiao barked, but she managed to sidestep him and start backing slowly towards the end of the pier. He felt like he was about to convulse, and collapse into a thousand little shards of glass. "No, don't go!"

"I shouldn't have come..." YN whispered, looking horrified. "I didn't think the rumours of you being here were true..."

"Does it matter?" His voice was rough, and he realised this was like a predator chasing prey. YN's pretty little eyes were wide, flushed with concern and horror.

"Yes! Oh, gods, I'm so sorry!"

"Just stay here," Xiao murmured, drunk off of her pleading. "You can right whatever you've done wrong."

"It's not that simple..." YN whispered, gasping as Xiao took a sudden extra step and took her shoulders into his hands, gazing up into her eyes.

"Please..." Xiao felt almost thirsty, dizzy and drowsy at the thrill of her being so close. "You can stay the night."

"I have to go..." YN's eyes flickered nervously over to his hands, gently pulling them into her own if only to get him to let go of her.

"I..." For a moment, just a single, spotty moment, Xiao felt something in him wake up. What was he doing? What did he do that made this sweet young woman look so horrified? Why? Why?

But then it was gone, like the crystalfly in the breeze. And it was too late.

YN had booked it to the end of the pier and Xiao had to launch himself, hurling his spear barely an inch from her and opening his arms. He could feel her dress on his skin, the flurry of movement, the soft gasp that made his ears ring. His arms were almost around her hips, he almost had her all to himself-

When she erupted into a thousand pearly crystalflies.

Xiao fell to his knees, arms closing in on nothing as they all fluttered out of his way and towards the lake, and he froze. The world stopped turning, the lake stopped churning, and the moon mocked him cruelly. His head was pounding, his arms hurt, he felt like every breath was going to be his last.

And Xiao howled. Xiao howled like an injured dog, screaming and begging for that last moment of peace that made him think everything was going to be alright.

This wouldn't be the last time he would see her, Xiao thought. No. He was going to tear apart Liyue, Tevyat, and even Celestia if it came down to it.

All for her. How romantic.

"Did you know, Traveller?" Verr Goldet was talking to the Traveller, humming softly as something screamed ever so distantly.

"Hm? What's up?" Paimon squeaked, tilting her head alongside Aether.

"There's a legend about moon spirits around here." She pointed to the balcony, up to the great full moon. "If you see one, you'll go mad with love upon seeing something so ancient and beautiful. Legend had it that they disguise themselves from mortals, leaving only the adepti and archons to see them and only coming out at a full moon. I wonder how it is if an adeptus sees one."

"That's weird to bring up." Paimon frowned, and Aether nodded. "Did something happen?"

"Be careful around Xiao, Traveller." Verr Goldet stared with a dark look at the balcony. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it can all come crashing down."

Nobody understood Xiao. And nobody ever could.

#xiao x reader #yandere xiao #moon spirit reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #genshin oneshot #xiao #x reader #brain go brr #tw yandere

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littlefishbigsea · 3 years

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Gwynriel Small Scene

The Necklace

A note: This is a snippet from a larger story I’ve been building upon. The goal is to eventually publish chapters via a side blog and ao3. I hope you enjoy. 🖤

She pushed him away, the palms of her hands flat against his firm chest. He stumbled back, caught off guard by her rejection. Chest heaving he leveled her with with his patina gaze.

“You don’t get to kiss me,” Gwyn sneered, drawing the back her hand across her mouth as if to wipe away his transgression.

“Oh?” He challenged. Back straightening, the shadowsinger rose to his full height and squared his shoulders.

“You’re a liar.”

“So are you,” he growled.

“What are we doing, shadowsinger?”

“Sparring,” he smirked. “Obviously.”

He sprung. Using his expansive wing span to bear down on her in a fraction of time, Gwyn barely had enough space to bring up her dagger and block his oncoming attack. She slid to the left, reversed her blade and aimed for his side.

Azriel smacked the blunt end of her dagger with the back of his forearm, knocking it off course. Grabbing her wrist, she chouldn’t stop her shriek as he slammed a thigh into her stomach, knocking her flat onto her ass.

She rolled and kicked out at the same time, ramming her foot into his ankle. He wouldn’t fall though. She knew that. So, she brought her leg up to kick him again, this time his inner thigh.

He went down. She was vaguely aware of the pain in her own limbs but she kept at him, throwing herself onto him. He grabbed her wrist before she could snatch his dagger away. They froze like that, staring each other down as Gwyn bared her teeth and strained against his superior strength. Azriel’s lips twitched upward at one corner and she growled in frustration.

Yanking up a leg in a feat of feminine flexibility, she hooked her leg through his elbow, wrenching his arm down with her full weight. Her wrist screamed, near breaking when he didn’t let go. His back arched just before his hips thrust up, flipping her off and over him. Using the momentum, she rolled before he could pin her. She scrambled after her dagger.

Gwyn skidded across the ground sending dirt into the air and grasped the weapon at the edge of the ring. She’d just straightened when Azriel lept up in a single graceful move and landed before her. Her mouth twisted and he glared back.

Both breathing hard, she gripped her dagger and sank into a ready stance. Az smirked, copying her movements. Gwyn swallowed. This no longer felt like sparring, but rather something personal leaking into what should have been simple, routine dagger practice.

They attacked at once. Gwyn’s legs ached but she managed to dance away from his first strike. She stabbed. He blocked. She kicked, ducked, and tried to jab him in the kidney but he blocked again. Jumping back she let loose a volley of offensive moves. Azriel was impossibly fast, blocking every one - then his dagger shot out, the handle knocking into her shoulder, sending her spinning backward.

She moved with the spin, turning her body so that she wouldn’t fall and kicked out at him again, attempting to plant a booted foot in his belly. Yet, he managed to twist away and caught her leg. She punched at his knee with the handle of her dagger and he dropped her.

Gwyn scrambled back, spinning to face him. He tensed, not attacking. The arrogant smirk is gone and now he just looks frustrated. She gives him a ‘what the fuck is your problem’ look. What was he waiting for? She inhaled sharply. How could she best him? It was like he knew her movements before she did. Damn it. She didn’t know how to beat him. Brute strength wouldn’t work, and her strategies were getting her nowhere.

Azriel sprung. Her time to think was up.

The attacks he unleashed were swift. Gwyn blocked and dodged. She didn’t catch everything and though it burned her pride, she knew he wasn’t using the full scope of his abilities. There was no matching him. Not yet. The shadowsinger was just that good. When his third strike caught her in the diaphragm she dropped to her knees at his feet, clutching her belly, unable to breathe. She trembled, exhausted. He started to take a step back to give her time to recover.

Before she could gasp a single breath, Gwyn shot up and tackled him, shoulder to stomach. He staggered, wings flaring, catching him before he fell. Her strength gave out and all she could do to keep from falling was grip handfuls of his shirt. A loud rip sounded as the side seam tore. She dragged herself to her feet, bouncing away from him on the balls of her feet.

Azriel pulled his torn shirt off and chucked it in a single sweep of his arm. Gwyn could only stare. The tattoos that curled over his shoulders wound down his chest, a curl over his heart. She licked her lips and pushed her shoulders back. With her chin lifted, she gestured for Azriel to come for her. His answering grin was a dark, wild thing. He stepped forward in a slow prowl. Then lunged. She leapt at the last second to meet him. Crashing into her, he grabbed her at the same time she grabbed onto him.

Their combined momentum was so powerful that they both slammed hard into the ground, Azriel above her. He managed to cup the back of her head to cushion the impact of their fall. His other hand was fisted in her shirt, holding her still. Both of her legs wrapped tight around his middle, her hands pressed into his chest.

Time slowed. Noise disappeared. Azriel was pressed hard against her, his bare chest hot, slick with sweat. He breathed deep, chest rising and falling. The hand at the back of her head closed slowly, pulling her hair into his fist. He pulled her head back until their eyes met.

Gwyn grabbed the shadowsinger’s head and yanked his mouth down to hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Not like what they’d shared in the past. Azriel’s mouth met hers with raging heat. She arched into him as he shoved her further into the ground, mouth moving, fierce, carnal, and demanding. His strength was all around her, holding her, pinning her helplessly. Her hands rose and she sank her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer still, demanding. Always wanting more. His hand tightened in her hair, angling her further, deepening their kiss into something wilder. She felt undone.

Eventually, Azriel pulled back with one last nipping bite to her lip. Molten warmth spread, pouring through her. Faces inches apart, both panting, eyes fierce, they held. Gwyn wasn’t sure if she should unwind her legs from around him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

He pulled away, her legs untangling from his waist. With a single push, Azriel was on his feet. His hand reached out and she slid her palm against his. He pulled. She found herself standing against him, hand still holding hers.

Fingers brushed the underside of her chin, tipping her head back. She stared at him uncertainly, his mask back in place. The shadowsinger was unreadable, even with his fingertips still resting against her chin. The sudden desire to pull his mouth back to hers warred within.

“Gwyn-“

“Are you in love with Elain, Azriel?”

His breath caught. She didn’t often call him by his name, preferring the title. It was what he was, who he was - but the intimacy of hearing his name on her lips gave him pause.

“Do you love Balthazar,” he tossed back.

“Why? Jealous?”

A wolffish smile spread his lips into a unkind grin. “If I thought even for a second that boy was competition, perhaps I would be.”

Her eyes widened, growing frustrated, no longer distracted by his lips or their sparring, Gwyn reached beneath her shirt. With a strong yank, she pulled the infamous necklace free of her neck, tossing it the ground where it landed at his feet.

“Don’t do that.” Azriel’s voice was low, threaded with shadow.

“I wasn’t the one you intended to give this to,” Gwyn accused. “So, I’m giving it back.”

“It’s yours, Gwyn, I gave it-“

“To Elain!” She shouted, hands fisting at her side. “Or was it meant for Mor first, I’m confused.”

So, was he. He sighed, defeat settling in him. His wings dropped, though not hitting the ground, and he leveled her with a look.

“You’re right,” he said. His voice was ice-cold silk that slid under Gwyn’s skin and down into her bones. “I did give it to Elain. She didn’t want it,” he confessed. Gwyn’s lips parted in surprise.

“Why give it to me, then?” Her voice was quiet, soft.

He shakes his head, a wrinkle in his forehead appearing. His shadows surfaced around him, wrapping him in darkness.

“Don’t you dare hide from me,” she hissed, watching as the shadowsinger all but disappeared from her sight.

“I gave the necklace-“ He stopped, shadows trembling around him as if they waited expectantly for him to continue. “After Elain returned it, I gave the necklace to Clotho. She suggested I give it to you. She thought… I thought you might like it.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but it hadn’t been that. Not exactly.

“Why me, Azriel?”

He stared at her, shadows coiling and unraveling. A blushing glow bloomed high in his cheeks.

“I thought… I don’t know what things have been like for you after - I thought, with all the ugly things dealt you…” He pushes a scarred hand through his hair, scattering the dark strands into chaos. “It’s an uncomplicated design and if you hold it the right way it catches light. I thought you might wear it and look at it from time to time, find comfort in its beauty. To bring something lovely to your life that… It was stupid-“

“You thought I’d find it beautiful. The way you did.” She hadn’t meant to interrupt. The thought had slipped, the confusion and disbelief in her voice thick.

He looked at her, brow furrowed. “Yes.”

She focused on the small pendant at his feet. It’s chain coiled elegantly, catching in the moonlight. Lovely in its simplicity. Gwyn couldn’t quite take a breath. Just a necklace - something beautiful he’d wanted to share. With her, even if it had not been his first intention. A gift that wasn’t meant to be but had turned into something meaningful they both treasured.

Except that he had convinced himself she wouldn’t want it if she’d known the truth. She watched him, no longer guarded, his raw vulnerability darkening his eyes. He’d expected rejection.

It took everything he had to hold still, to keep his hands at his sides, to resist the urge to reach for her. Azriel didn’t know what he’d do if he touched her. It wasn’t out of a desire for pleasure, hers or his. He wanted to touch her because something hot and pulling tightened in his chest and it hurt to breathe. Without conscious thought, his hand rose toward her as though drawn up by an invisible string. As if she wielded her nymph magic and he was caught in her spell. Ready to drown in the pool of her eyes.

Scarred fingers brushed across her soft cheek, her skin warm, flushed. His touch trailed lightly across the side of her face and his hand curled around the back of her neck. Running his thumb along her jaw and to the corner of her mouth, Gwyn knew he was going to kiss her again.

Before he leaned in, before he could capture her lips with his, a cold thrill ran down his spine and splintered into shards of ice. He stiffened, knowing who he’d find watching them. His instincts screamed. They weren’t alone.

He caught movement over Gwyn’s shoulder. Not hidden, but in plain view. Watching. Waiting. Stamping her foot against the rings dirt floor, sending little puffs of dust cloud into the air. That silhouette was unmistakable, as was the arctic chill that ran down his spine.

Nesta Archeron.

With Azriel’s attention fixed on her, the female arched a single brow. Silver flames danced within the depths of those eyes. Her gaze moved from his to where his hand still lingered at Gwyn’s face.

Shit.

#gwynriel #fanfic #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #acosf spoilers #acosf #sjm fanfic #my fanfiction #my writing #gwynriel fic

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maatryoshkaa · 3 years

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merry christmas, kiss my a** | lee minho [teaser]

✒︎ in which both you and minho get dumped by your partners on christmas eve, run into each other on christmas day, and begin to find yourselves grudgingly confronting all the reasons that made you enemies in the first place.

ryu says: i can explain the title—i wrote out the plot while listening to “merry christmas, kiss my ass” by all time low 🤡

genre: enemies to lovers, college!au, holiday!au, fluff, drama, romcom, all that good stuff--and a pinch of angst if you move your bang to read it again.

tags/warnings: fratboy!minho is your typical playboy asshole, perfect student!reader is all business and no-nonsense, mild profanity, mentions of drugs/marijuana/alcohol and addiction, unsafe frat parties (never let go of your drinks, guys), slightly (?) suggestive, but more chaotic than anything, some unhealthy relationships, reader and minho have bad blood, a long history paved with misunderstandings, and lots of unpacking to do.

length of excerpt: 1.6k

With the remnants of a ruthless migraine still wrenching your skull, you pried your eyes open. A weak groan left your dry lips, muffled by a mouthful of fabric. As you came to—brain feeling like jelly sloshing around in your head—you realised you were lying nearly face-down on a queen-sized bed, white comforters tangled around your very sore body. Bright sunlight was filtering in from a window somewhere, and you vaguely registered a green velvet couch sitting in the corner. Frowning, you tried to roll onto your side—and came face-to-face with the yellow eyes of a ginger cat.

You didn’t own a cat. Or a green couch, for that matter. Blinking in confused unison with the feline, you looked around the room—just as the bathroom door swung open, and a very naked Minho stepped out from the wisps of steam.

You screamed, scrambling back on the bed, and grabbed for the first solid object your hands could find—a rusted candelabra on the nightstand. Brandishing it at Minho in horror, you stammered, “Did I—did you—did we—”

Minho looked just as bewildered as you, one hand shooting up as if in surrender. With a yowl, the ginger cat leapt onto the green couch, but neither of you spared it a glance. Minho’s other hand, you realised, was gripping the towel wrapped around his waist as if his life depended on it. Okay, so he wasn’t naked—thank heavens—but that did nothing to stop the sour panic steadily rising in your throat. His gesture sent a vague memory rippling through your muddled mind. That’s right. Last night—the Christmas party at Changbin’s fraternity. You had bumped into Minho, just your rotten luck—the boy you’d despised since high school, and under the mistletoe, to boot. Your mind flashed back to how you’d furiously chugged the drink a frat boy had handed you to fill in the awkwardness, and had desperately tried to eject yourself from the conversation.

Then police sirens had sounded throughout the frat house, students scrambling like cockroaches and hurriedly hiding their marijuana—and that was the last thing you remembered before you had blacked out entirely.

You turned back towards Minho, one hand clamped over your eyes and the other around the candelabra. Two more cats had slinked out from under the bed—a tabby, and another ginger—and were joining the first one in watching the commotion. You put two and two together, voice growing shrill. “Did you—drug my drink, Lee Minho?”

He sputtered, and you could almost imagine his eyes bugging out. “Did I—” he raked a hand through his wet hair, composing himself. “I thought you took something—you were out cold the second you finished your drink.”

Fragments of the night before were slowly returning to you, and with increasing dread you recalled the solo cup you had taken without looking twice, the frat boy who had winked at you with a greasy smile.

“I think you got roofied, princess,” came Minho’s voice, surprisingly gentle.

“Don’t call me princess,” you snapped back automatically, but grudgingly lowered the candelabra. Cautious, you peered through your fingers, and immediately regretted it when you were met with Minho’s shit-eating smirk agaain.

“Not gonna lie, it took me by surprise. Since when did you become a party girl, showing up to Changbin’s parties?” He reached back into the bathroom, ruffling his damp hair with a smaller towel. “Here I was, thinking you’ve changed.”

“Yeah, well, you clearly haven’t,” you shot back coldly, counting off your fingers with a biting laugh. “Treating people like your personal toys or stepping stones. Messing around with multiple girls a night. Drinking like there’s no tomorrow.”

If your words stung Minho, he certainly didn’t show it—only raising his eyebrows in that way that had infuriated you for as long as you’d known. The typical Lee Minho look of nonchalant contempt, spiked with a shot of amusement to give the impression that he didn’t give a single damn. You hadn’t run into him since—well, since that incident back in high school, and the memories his mere expressions could still rouse made your skin crawl.

Minho watched you curiously—sheets still wrapped around you like makeshift battle armour, your hand wielding the candelabra he’d thrifted from a garage sale, Rapunzel-style—and he had to fight the genuine smile tugging at his sneer. His chest felt...funny, fluttery, even, and not in the gut-wrenching, hangover way he had grown so used to. He almost wished it was, because this new feeling made it seem as though the ground had suddenly been ripped out from under his feet, and that terrified him.

The party. Some snitch had called the cops on them, and that had promptly shut the party down. The flood of panicked students evacuating had shoved Minho flush against the wall, and you flush against his chest. When he hadn’t felt you shoving him away immediately, Minho had almost felt his heart swell with a strange, terrifying shred of hope—until, upon closer look, he had noticed that your entire body had gone limp, glass empty and eyes fluttering shut.

Panicking, Minho had carried you out of the house, clawing out of the sea of elbows and overheated limbs until he had reached the main road. Mind racing, he had fished his phone from his pocket and called the only mutual acquaintance the two of you had—your boyfriend.

But when Minho had explained what had happened—hey, uh, your girlfriend’s out cold at Changbin’s party, so you might want to come pick her up—Taehyun had scoffed, a harsh bark of laughter that had made Minho’s ears hurt.

“Yeah? The hell’s it to me? That bitch’s your problem now.”

Before Minho could choke out a surprised reply, Taehyun had hung up.

Trouble in paradise? He had thought to himself amusedly, before remembering his own situation. Then, the fact that he had no idea where you lived, and he couldn’t very well leave you, unconscious, out on the street. In the end, he had brought you to his last resort—his apartment.

Carefully stepping over the trail of shattered ornaments his ex-girlfriend had left behind during their fight, Minho had lowered you onto the couch—then, with a second thought and a deep sigh, he’d lifted you onto the bed, tucking the white comforter over your slack body. Sipping a hangover concoction, he’d stood over your sleeping figure contemplatively, a mix of bemusement and worry churning in his gut, before deciding he was probably being mildly creepy and collapsing for the night on the velvet couch.

“Look,” Minho began, shaking his head as though clearing his thoughts and turning his attention back on you, “I know what you’re probably thinking, but I—we—didn’t—do anything. You were out cold last night.”

Hands shaking, you peeled back the covers—and the smallest sigh of relief left your tightened chest when you saw that you were still wearing the same jeans and top as last night—albeit creased, stained, and reeking of marijuana and booze, but completely intact. The next moment, though, a wave of anxiety washed over you and you clutched the sheets closer, fingers trembling. Someone had still slipped something into your drink at that party. And if the party hadn’t come to a screeching halt—no, you realised, with an inward groan of frustration, if your sworn enemy hadn’t been there, there was no telling how much worse things could have gone.

The thought made you shudder, panicked tears pricking at your sore eyes. Damn it ll. Here you were, sitting in Lee Minho’s bed, of all people—about to cry in front of him while he watched. Your humiliation—a belated Christmas present for him, no doubt.

But when you glanced at his face, you were startled at the expression on his face. It was unfamiliar—not exactly condescending, or vicious, or even mildly smug. His lips—rosy from the hot shower—were pressed together slightly, eyebrows almost knitting together in a frown.

Maybe he was holding back laughter?

Minho’s eyes had caught the way your lips had begun to tremble as you curled in on yourself, and had instinctively moved forward before freezing. What could he do? Give you a hug? He was sure he would end up with a candlestick in his eye if he tried. Comfort you? The words seemed to dissolve to sand on his tongue. He cursed himself silently. Words and actions came so easily with all the other girls—endless sweet talk and flirting, until he had them wrapped around his finger. With you—even after all these years—he was left frozen, mind blank, and only that damned feeling in his chest.

“She’s not yours,” came Changbin’s voice from the previous night, ringing in his ears.

“I know,” he had replied. But why did acknowledging it feel like ripping a Band-Aid off of a nearly-healed wound? Like he had reopened the scar, along with all its pain once again?

Maybe it was because after all these years, Minho still clung onto the hope that you would hear him out, just once.

Gesturing helplessly, he found himself offering the only sort of comfort he seemed to know how to. “Do you want—uh...some wine? The fridge’s empty, and maybe it’ll calm your nerves a bit.” He tilted his head when you didn’t reply, trying to get a glimpse of your face. “Do we need wine?”

Forgetting momentarily that he was nearly naked, you lifted a withering, exasperated gaze at him, getting an eyeful of his bare chest before yelping and burying your face in the covers again. “No. You know what—I need wine—you need to put some damn pants on.”

You could hear his devilish grin return to his voice then, even through the covers. “But life is so freeing without them.”

“Pants. On. Now.”

to be continued

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

Before The Full Moon.

Werewolf! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: The night before a full moon always offered an abundance of fun, especially when you call your man ‘Alpha.’

WARNINGS!: Biting, oral (female receiving), horny asf Izuku, sex, sub!reader & dom!Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Werewolf! Izuku is here! First out of three Halloween Au’s! I’m a bit rusty with my writing skills.. heh..

Just To Clarify:

Despite Reader calling Izuku ‘alpha,’ this is not ABO

Izuku always has his tail and wolf ears, he just hides them when in public or around reader earlier in the relationship

This takes place in the country in a forest town

Werewolves can shapeshift whenever, they just has no control over it on a full moon night

All characters are aged up

Reader and Izuku are living together but not married or engaged

Perm. Tag List

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia:

Having a werewolf as a boyfriend wasn’t nearly as bad as you originally thought it would be.

Granted, you were lucky enough to fall madly in love with a kind one, and not a bloodthirsty beast.

You had been dating the buff man covered in freckles and scars with an addiction to sweaters for a year and a half before actually finding out his little secret, having witnessed him morph into a ginormous wolf with thick, green and black fur under the blinding light of the full moon.

You had been frozen in fear, tripping over your own two feet as you stumbled back when his head snapped towards you.

The floor creaked with every step he took, the sheer weight of the wolf being enough to make a loud thump that only added to the terror and nausea bubbling up in your stomach. You had almost accepted your death once he towered over you, only to promptly flop down beside you, whining like a puppy as he placed his large head on your legs, eyes practically begging for you to not freak the fuck out.

He made himself as small, cute, and less threatening as possible.

Yeah.

It was a wild night.

Later, he introduced you to the world of werewolves, how they fit seamlessly into society.

“You can always tell someone is a werewolf based on if they smell like a wet dog in the rain, though!” He chirped happily, emerald eyes squeezing shut as he gave you that radiant smile that showed off his sharper than average canines that you had never noticed before despite locking lips on a regular basis.

It had been a year since then, and getting used to your boyfriend shapeshifting was no easy task. Hell, you still weren’t used to coming home to a huge ass dog in your living room on nights with the moon full, despite being fully aware of what was going to happen to him that evening.

He certainly wasn’t what you expected when the word ‘werewolf’ came to mind.

Wolf-like humans covered in fur are what you and most people pictured, standing up on two legs with a snout of a dog and a bushy tail, not… essentially a dire wolf.

Apparently, werewolves could turn whenever they pleased but had no control over themselves on the night of a full moon. Most weren’t vicious, but the few that were stirred up fear in the small communities with their legends rooted deep in the ground.

He even had a pack, friends he led who were as loyal as can be to him, just as he was.

Living in a small town surrounded by forests, trees with trunks thrice your size, he had shown you what it was like to be a werewolf, letting you cling to his fur for dear life as he ran through the greenery, dirt kicking up behind his large paws as his tongue lolled out, clearly joyful to hear you screech and hold on tighter whenever he jumped. The shit.

But werewolves.. were extremely territorial. It wasn’t often you’d hear about a wolf giving up territory without a bloody fight, and so it certainly wasn’t uncommon for your sweet Izuku to come home to you covered in bruises and scratches.

You’d always take care of him, wash his wounds and wrap them if necessary before smothering him in love that always made the tail he typically hid in loose shorts or pants when in public wag.

He was your big puppy, and you were, as embarrassing and thrilling as it was to admit, his mate.

Since he was technically an alpha, a title he wore proudly since he had fought to earn it, you’d occasionally refer to him as that, just to watch as his freckled cheeks light up, darkened eyes side-eyeing you as you giggled like a school girl.

His friends always teased him when you’d call him that in front of them, to which he shook his head at, only for him to absolutely wreck your insides once you got home, growling for you to call him it again.

It got under his skin in a good way, made it burn and sent shivers down his spine.

He loved it.

He loved being an alpha, being your alpha, and he was never going to let that go.

But there was.. one thing you found out pretty quickly about werewolves the night before a full moon.. Before you found out his secret, you would always wonder why he avoided you the days before, but now you understood why.

If only you had found out sooner, you could have helped him with his problem.

“(Y/N)..” He growled possessively against your sensitive neck, sending shivers down your spine as your legs tightened around his slim waist.

You were pressed against the wall in your shared apartments darkened hallway, the hunk of a man you were honored to call your own had you pressed snuggly against him.

“Izuku..” You whined, his hot, growing erection grinding against your clothed crotch. He nipped at your skin, making you gasp and tilt your head, giving him more room to lick, nibble, and suck, marking you as his own with each hickey, large or small. Each bite was sweetly kissed, his chest vibrating with glee with each little noise you made.

His jade eyes sparkled with lust as he gazed at you, making your belly burn and twist with excitement, panties growing even more wet.

His large hands went down to your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh just to draw a gasp from you.

Making sure you were secure against him, he pulled away from the wall, drawing a small shriek from you.

He chuckled, and if you weren’t as horny and desperate as you were to get the daylights fucked out of you, you would’ve scolded him.

His lips then smashed against your own, tongue invading your wet cavern and smiling when he heard your muffled moan. Lips met again and again in a hungry haze as he walked to your shared bedroom, your hips continuously grinding down on his cock making it hard to focus.

All he wanted to do was to bury himself deep in your tight, warm walls, make you his again and again and again so that all who were nearby could hear your cries of his name. You were his.

Reaching the large bed, you were promptly shoved onto the soft mattress, legs loosely hanging off his hips as he pulled away from you.

His hands instantly went to his shirt, practically tearing it off of himself before doing the same with your own.

He was delighted to see you with no bra, your nipples already so delightfully perky and cute.

You were in your pajamas, after all.

Your face was flushed, eyebrows pulled together, tugging him forward by the waistband of his gym shorts.

Diving down, he captured your lips in another heated kiss, shoving your own shorts down so he could grind himself against your core again. He could practically feel your wetness soaking his front, it was exhilarating to know he could turn you into putty so easily.

His tail tickled at your feet as it wagged, his ears standing up on top of his bushy head, listening to every ragged breath you let out and the light creak of the bed with every movement.

Pulling away, he nibbled at your lower lip, kissing down your chin, over your jawline, licking and nipping at the large marks he’d already left.

He could feel your heart hammering in your chest as he kissed down to your exposed left breast, its sound like a love song singing his name.

Rough, calloused fingers trailed up your body, scarred palms smoothing against your warm skin as he shamelessly felt up what was his.

Moving down, you whined at the lack of friction, only to whimper as his lips encased one of your nipples, tongue circling the flesh and teeth grazing over and pulling it. Your back arched off the bed, one hand fisting the pure white sheets below you as the other tangled itself in his green curls.

His thumb played with your other bud, pinching and rolling it, kneading at your soft flesh whilst sucking on the other one.

“Hah..! I-Izu..! Mm..” You enjoyed the rough treatment he gave you, finding pleasure in the smallest amount of pain as his sharpened canines touched your skin.

He pulled away with an audible pop, letting the cool night air hit your wet nipple, moving to give your other bud equal treatment with his addicting mouth.

He always was a boob man, their plushness and bounce always catching his attention. But yours.. my God he was devoted to yours. Sweet to the taste, so cute and such a beautiful canvas for him to paint a picture on, he couldn’t help but suck marks all over them, his own sanity slipping through his fingers as the night went on.

He could smell and feel how wet you were, smell how much you wanted him.

It thrilled him to the very bone, made it hard for him to give attention to his favorite girls.

Giving one final lick to your nipple, he finally moved down your burning body, sitting back on his knees on the floor, hooking his large, muscular arms dotted with freckles under your thighs just to yank you down to the end of the bed.

Your soaked panties were right in front of his face, legs dangling off his broad shoulders.

Kissing at your thigh, he pressed his nose against your clothed core, inhaling your scent deeply, making his tail wag and you cry out in embarrassment.

You were so cute, hiding behind your hands.

He adored it.

Impatiently, he ripped the flimsy material from your body, giving you no tome to protest as he dove straight into his sopping meal.

“H-hAH.!!” You cried, fingers pulling at his green curls as he eagerly began to lap at your pussy like a starving dog.

Your juices dripped down his chin and neck, but he couldnt give less of a fuck. You were delicious.

His pupils were blown wide, drinking in the sight of your arched back and parted mouth.

His tongue expertly licked at all your special spots, giving a broad lick over your pink labia, avoiding your clit just to have you buck desperately at his face.

Izuku Midoriya was a simple man.

When his mate cries out for more, sobbing his name, he gives them more.

Your hips bucked off the bed once the flat of his tongue ran over your twitching nub.

Finding it hard to please you with your hips going wild, he held them down to the bed, eagerly eating your cunt out, holding you to his face so you couldn’t move away.

The crickets chirping just outside the window above your bedframe were drowned out by the wet sounds echoing in the room from his sloppiness, you were too focused on the pleasure to even care.

“O-oh!! I-Izu!! Mm! Haa..aAAH!!”

His mouth felt like pure numbing magic, sucking on your clit like he did your tit felt like heaven. He moaned against your wet flesh, sending your head flying back into the mattress, belly tightening with that familiar burn.

You were close. So damn close.

And he knew it.

He knew you so well.

“I’m..!! Izuku, I-I’m so..!” Your legs were shaking like crazy, squeezing the bushy warm head between them as he made you feel like you were high on drugs with his mouth alone.

A particular rough lick at your clit sent you over the edge, screaming his name as your eyes fells shut, convulsing like you were possessed against his mouth.

He held you even closer to him, slurping up the mess you had made, sticking his tongue into your fluttering walls to lick you clean, savoring your addicting taste that drove him absolutely insane.

But he wasnt done.

Pulling away, strings of your cum mixed with his saliva stuck to his face for a moment before breaking. He watched as your clit twitched and throbbed, much like the neglected cock in his boxers.

Pulling one hand away from your hip, he slid two digits down your cunt, collecting left over juice to slicken them up before pressing at your entrance that seemed to begged for him already.

“P-please…” You weeped, finally looking down between your twitching legs just to be met with such a sexy sight.

His face was covered with your mess, pupils blown wide with a feral gleam to his usually warm eyes, it made your cunt squeeze around thin air.

Despite being the sweetest man you knew, he sure fucking knew how to drive you mad.

Typically, he would tease you, make you beg and beg for him to give you what you want, but his mind was far to foggy to truly even try.

He just wanted to break you in the sweetest way possible.

And so, he plunged his fingers inside you, groaning at how you sucked them in, barely giving you a second to adjust before he began thrusting them in and out of your pussy, dragging more and more moans from your throat as his thick fingers filled you up.

Curling them, he pressed against that spongey spot inside of you, “NGHHAH!! AaaAAhH!! Th-There! HaAh..!” His fingers clicked wet against your squishy walls, mouth coming back down to lick around your clit before flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Your body felt like it was charged by electricity, zaps running down your thighs and up to your belly, shooting shocks at your perky nipples and down your back.

You couldn't help but grind against him, crying out for more and more, to which he was always eager to give.

Until..

He couldnt take it anymore.

His sanity finally snapped, and with an animalistic snarl nothing short of carnal that had you keening, he pulled his fingers from you, shoving you further up the bed, yanking his shorts and boxers down. You had a single second to soak in the image of his large member slapping against his toned abdomen and oozing with precum before you were flipped over, ass high in the air and face pressed down into the soft pillows.

“Mine.”He growled out, mounting you and plunging his thick cock deep into your squeezing walls. Eyes rolling back into your head, a scream of ecstasy and pain tore from your throat, legs instinctively spreading as he fucked into your little cunt.

He leaned down, pressing his warm chest against your back, nuzzling his chiseled yet rounded face into the crook of your neck as he thrusted in and out of your tight hole that constantly pulled him back in.

Saliva dribbled down your chin, jaw slack as you cried out into the night, “Alpha..!”

His hips stutter, fingernails digging into your flesh, sure to leave blemishes in the shape of crescent moons as the title registered in his delirious mind.

His tongue flopped out of his mouth, smiling and panting as his chest rumbled with desire as he pulled you impossibly closer, thrusting faster than you could even handle, tail wagging like a bullet behind him.

“Ha-aAAhH!!”

Slick poured down your thighs, the loud slapping of skin against skin and animalistic growls echoing around the room, bouncing off the walls and intensifying the sensation of your brain being turned to mush with how good you felt, how good he always made you feel.

“‘MmMMH! S-sO!! H-aaH!! NNHH!! So g-good!! Alpha!! Y-you fah… feel!! Mm!!”

It was hard to get a coherent sentence out as his thick cock filled you up again and again, rubbing and fucking at all your sensitive spots with expert precision, kissing at your cervix each time he bottomed out inside your dripping cunt.

“Mine.” Izuku breathed out roughly, spare hand burying itself between your legs spread wide for him, just so he could rub your puffy, twitching clit in a circle that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Nn-! N-no! W-ait! It’s t-oo..!! Much!! Aa-aAaaAh!!

You quickly reached another mind blowing orgasm, head flinging back as stars exploded in your vision, his teeth digging into your throat making you nose dive off the edge of pure ecstasy.

Your pussy fluttered around his aching dick, squeezing him like a molten hot vice as you came on his cock, stomach feeling full as you squirted onto his tense thighs.

He didnt stop fucking in and out of you as you came undone, only adding to the extreme, overwhelming pleasure you felt, pins and needles dancing across your shocked skin making your head lob to the side as fat tears rolled down your flushed and sweating cheeks.

Suddenly, you were flipped onto your back, dick pulling from you momentarily with a wet pop, your thighs trembling like a newborn doe around him were shoved down to the bed, fully exposing your pretty pink, wet cunt before shoving himself back inside your warm heat.

“IZUKU—!”

You screamed his name, your own nails digging into the toned muscles of his back, scratching to ground yourself as his hips snapped into yours so roughly the bed banged concerningly loud against the wall.

The bed was squeaking so loudly you feared for a second it would break from the sheer force he was giving each time he slammed into your over-sensitive pussy.

“No!” He snarled into your ear, glaring at your blissed out face, “who am I?” His threatening tone made you shake like a leaf, only turning you on even more.

His nose was crinkled up as he growled at you, ears pressed to the back of his head,

“Y-you’re Iz- HAAAH!!! AAAH!! oOOH MY- F-FUCK!” His hips moved impossibly faster, stirring up your insides like day old soup on a burner.

It made your toes curl as incoherent babbles fled from your mouth, “ALPHA!”

He always loved it, being called Alpha.

“That’s right.!” He grunted, pulling back, he forced you to stare into his eyes blown wide with lust and gleaming in the silvery, angelic light of the moon pouring in from the open window,

“I’m your alpha.”

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pkg4mumtown · 3 years

Text

Signs of Attachment - Ch. 1

Summary: Having an auditory processing disorder never slowed you down, but it mean you were confined to the Temple when the Clone Wars started. Will the frustration of not understanding people at times make for a rather lonely existence?

Pairing: Obi-Wan/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G (for now)

Warnings: Hard of Hearing Reader, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first Star Wars fic, so have mercy on me. This request was for my friend, Jaime, who gave me all sorts of information and I’m forever indebted to them for it. The timeline is probably very off, but…oh well!

To clarify before we start:

“Text.” Means someone is speaking.

“Text.” Means someone is speaking and signing.

Text, Means someone is signing.

Chapter 1 - Effort

I slid the last tool into place and closed its drawer, the Halls of Healing finally back in order after the last rush of injured Jedi passed through. I thought bitterly about the war that I was barred from, except for the occasional medic deployment to forward operating bases. My saber hung uselessly at my side despite every test I passed to prove my worthiness to the Council. It’s not that they didn’t have faith in me, they just saw me as a liability, which is probably just as bad. Despite how hard I tried to explain it, they were convinced that I could never be focused enough to be on the front lines. Yet, I passed every test while purposely being fully deafened and even being both deafened and blinded, which was somehow easier than the former.

Being assigned to the Halls of Healing seemed almost harder than combat, considering I had been far better at fighting than healing throughout my entire knighthood. Semi-dangerous solo missions before the wars? The Council saw no problems. A full scale war with plenty of droids as target practice? A big problem, apparently.

I was so consumed in my thoughts that I had barely registered someone, no two someones, or rather their force signatures, entering the Halls.

Swoosh

I didn’t even have a chance to decipher any of what they were saying as their words and voices started to blend together immediately due to their arguing.

“Sop.”

“Yaioyu satowep beeineg doifficultat.”

“Lletat muoe gaorn.”

“No."

“Atnakin, ei doon'tat noeead tolorn beoe heneroe.”

I glanced over at my Droid for help, but its signing was a mess as both voices talked over each other. I eventually stopped looking at it and took a deep, calming breath. I tried to pick apart the voices and focus on one but both faded in and out, making it nearly impossible.

Shove. Scuffle.

“You do…”

“Eeim f—ine”

Slap.

“Yu figelol otan muoe.”

“Ei tolrippead.”

“Muaster, poleasoe tolelol heniem.”

Silence.

“Muaster?”

More silence.

“Muaster…?”

Oh. The closeness of the strongest signature was behind me now, poised and ready to—

Tap.

I turned and faced the two, rather loud, intruders to this calming place. My Droid wasn’t yet in place behind them, so I couldn’t quite get everything but I got enough. I had never gotten quite good at lip reading with Master Plo as a teacher, so he had learned Basic Sign Language to help supplement what was missed in speaking. I relied on my droid to sign to me quite heavily when dealing with patients to understand what was wrong with them, but it was only helpful if one person was speaking at a time. Definitely not whatever this train wreck of a duo was.

“Master?” the spikey-haired Padawan asked, staring straight at me.

“Forgive my Padawan, he toakess atfteer muwy Muasteer,” the older Jedi rolled his eyes, noticeably leaning on his Padawan and clutching his side.

“I do not.”

Feeling another round of arguing bubbling up, I held my palm up, “Both of you stop, please, and start from the top.” My Droid finally stepped in place behind them so I could see the signs over their shoulders.

“We just landed back at the temple, everything was fine—"

“Things are fine,” the Master snapped.

“—and he just collapsed on me. He wouldn’t let me check over him—," the Padawan continued.

“There’s nothing to check, Anakin.”

Ah, yes, the infamous Master Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin.

“Obviously theroe iss.”

“Eim fignoe.”

“Stop,” I sighed and closed my eyes and opened them after centering myself. “Padawan Skywalker, please leave us.”

“B—”

“Now, please,” I urged, not bothering to give him an explanation. Not that I needed to give him one.

The Padawan made a face of displeasure before bowing to both of us and leaving the room.

“—overreacting—,” Kenobi sighed.

I blinked at him, then glanced at my droid, who filled me in on the whole sentence.

Anakin is overreacting, really.

“Master Kenobi, please sit and take off your tunics and tabards,” I ask and look away, not that it was going to matter because I was going to see him shirtless regardless.

I tried to ignore the broad expanse of his chest, littered with scars and copper hair. My eyes lingered a little too long while raking over and looking for injuries. I was just being thorough.

When I saw the wound that caused this whole ordeal I sucked in a breath quickly. The skin on his side was badly burned and the wound was at least a few days old, so naturally it had infected because he neglected to take care of it.

“It’s infected,” I shook my head almost hurriedly grabbed the large tub of bacta we kept on hand.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” He brushed off my comment, obediently lifting his arm when I nudged it.

“Have you looked at it recently?” I scoffed as I further inspected the wound.

He was silent for a moment, making me look at my droid confused as if I had missed something but the Droid confirmed that I hadn’t.

“Master Kenobi?”

“The less I acknowledged it, the easier it was to manage the pain,” he grumbled back. “And surely, you can call me Obi-Wan, we were in the crèche together.”

“That hardly constitutes a first name basis,” I squinted at him. “I don’t even recall speaking to you. They were troubling times for me, it was easier to keep to myself. Less to…process.”

“Oh, believe me, that message was loud and clear,” Obi-Wan chuckled, making me roll my eyes in an attempt to not focus on the way it lit his face up or brightened his eyes. “I also seem to remember that you were one of the best saber wielders out of all us.”

“A lot of good that did me,” I gestured to the sterile room.

“You still have the honor of humiliating an advanced saber instructor in class while being completely shut off to auditory and optical input.”

A blush rose to my cheeks, “Ho—”

“Every Padawan in the temple knew about it…”

“Well, it couldn’t have been that impressive if it wasn’t enough for the frontlines,” I slipped bitterly.

“They’re not all fun, unfortunately,” he murmured.

“I’m a guardian trapped as a healer, Obi-Wan, anything is better than this.” I took a deep breath, “Anyway, you might feel some discomfort.”

I closed my eyes and hovered my hand over the wound and focused on purging the infection first, feeling it attacking the cells around it as I finally attuned with said infection. I pulled the infection away from his body, pleased when there was no resistance and it begun to trickle away. I tilted my head as I sensed another pain but in his leg, so I investigated without breaking the healing I was already doing. The pain visualized as five red dots, the cause hard to place while my mind was otherwise occupied.

Then, it dawned on me that he was gripping his own leg so tightly as a distraction to the pain in his side that even I could feel it. Blindly, I found his knee and then his hand clenching his thigh. His hand relaxed slightly as mine touched his, allowing my hand to worm under his for him to squeeze instead. With the infection released into the force, I focused on knitting the wound back together. In response, Obi-Wan’s hand squeezed mine even tighter. If I could have sent something calming to him, I would have, but didn’t want to break my concentration when I was almost done. Instead, I let my thumb brush back and forth over his knuckles.

Finally, the wound was completely covered with new skin so I let the force healing trickle away. I blinked my eyes open, a little woozy but nothing I wasn’t used to, especially after a long day of healing.

“—that—pleasant,” I vaguely heard through the humming in my ears. It always took a while for the force to stop thrumming in my head after force healing, only amplified by my condition.

I knitted my brows at him, knowing it was anything but pleasant and then looked over at my droid.

Stars, that was not very pleasant.

“Oh, well, yes I suspect the day it becomes pleasant will be the day that Jedi actually seek out treatment, rather than avoid it,” I stressed the end just for him.

“Sorry, I should have waited until you opened your eyes.”

“It’s fine,” and really it was, I was used to it by now.

“I’m sure it gets tiring having to have a conversation with someone over their shoulder,” I didn’t get to appreciate the sincerity in his eyes because I had to glance at my droid again, only proving his point.

“Well, it was a little hard to learn to lip read growing up with Master Plo…,” my mouth turned up into a smirk, clearly trying not to laugh.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, didn’t hold back and snorted; laughing immediately after, “Sorry, sorry…”

“But, he did learn and teach me BSL, so at least I have something. Even if no one else here knows it, the droid helps. Though, in the field I don’t bring it, so I just tell everyone to shut up at let me work.”

“That’s…unfortunate.”

“It gets taxing, if only because I don’t always catch everything so conversations are hard to carry without the droid. Especially if someone starts talking to me without getting my attention first.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head like he was deep in thought, “Maker knows we learn enough languages here, they should teach BSL, too,” Obi-Wan squeezed my hand, making me realize I’d never actually let go of his hand. Though, with his hand now squeezing mine, I’d have to rip my hand away and to be honest? I didn’t want to.

“I don’t think we have anyone fluent enough to teach besides myself and Master Plo…”

“Hmm, I’d still like to present it to the Council. Someone has to be able to teach it,” he smiled gently.

I had no words to express how grateful even the thought of presenting it to the Council meant to me. So I didn’t speak. Instead, I sent my feelings of gratitude through the force and our joined hands. I took the time to read the genuine twinkle in his eyes as I hadn’t been able to this whole time, and the subtle way his eyebrows relaxed as he realized what I was doing. My eyes drifted lower to the way the corners of his eyes and cheek wrinkled just slightly with the upturn of the corner of his mouth, a subtle smile for me. Lower still, to the coppery mustache and beard on his face, with flecks of gray from the war. Or his Padawan…probably his Padawan. I let my eyes drift over the endearing way his mullet curled just behind his ears and rested against his shoulders.

He was right about one thing; I had taken for granted just looking someone in the eyes as they spoke to me. It was something that was necessary for BSL, and while Master Plo didn’t have the most expressive face, it gave me back a semblance of normalcy to be able to carry on a conversation face to face. It helped bridge the gaps between any words I had missed and ensured I had the whole picture, even going so far as to express words or ideas I was having trouble expressing with speech.

I cleared my throat, realizing I was staring far longer than I should have been, “Sorry, um, here…”

I reluctantly untangled our hands and grabbed the container of bacta, scooping a generous amount on to my fingers. I applied the cool gel to the new, pink, raw skin, which looked far better than the angry, red and purple open wound he had come in with. He jumped at the first contact, whether it was because of the cold or not, I didn’t know, but his sigh of relief after was a good sign.

I wiped my hand of and grabbed a new travel bottle of bacta for him, before pausing and grabbing two more, “Here, try not to lose these…”

He took them gratefully, knowing we normally didn’t give that much to just one Jedi, “Thank you, I—I didn’t lose mine. I gave it to my men, they needed it more.”

His men, his clones, whose health he put above his own.

“I’m not surprised,” I shook my head, “but do try to take care of yourself. They need you to lead them as much as you need them to succeed.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

My brain halted for a moment, my eyes widening slightly. This was the first real conversation I’d had with him and yet he knew my first name without hesitation.

“You shouldn’t be all the surprised, our masters were good friends after all. Master Koon, talked about you a lot with Master Jinn. He just never brought you along, I suppose,” Obi-Wan shrugged.

I hummed, “He was quite protective of me and tried to overwhelm me as little as possible…”

“I wish he had brought you, though. You would have gotten along well with Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan had a far away look in his eyes that I almost missed.

“I’m sorry, about…”

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled. “Now, I should get out of your hair lest my Padawan get into trouble.”

I stepped back to allow him to stand and handed him his discarded clothes from earlier, before turning and giving him privacy.

“Thank you,” he murmured, casually watching the droid out of the corner of his eye as it automatically translated into sign language.

When I turned back around, he was fully dressed again and stowing away the bacta in his belt, “Have a good rest of your day, Obi-Wan.” I bowed my head slightly to him.

“And you, Y/N,” he smiled, waiting for me to meet his eyes.

Thank you, he signed with a small smile adorning his face.

He bowed his head and took a a couple steps backwards and exited the room, offering a wave just before the doors closed behind him. My stomach flipped as I replayed the scene over in my head, realizing he had mimicked the droid in order to sign.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

#Obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi #gender neutral y/n #gn!reader #gn!mc #hard of hearing reader

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castleshadows · 3 years

Text

A Deeper Form of Hunger

The scene where Casteel goes crazy from blood deprivation from his perspective.

18+ Content: Smut, Non-Consensual

Written March 23, 2021

“Here take him, just spare me!” Shea shoved my weak body towards the Ascended, and in that moment I knew that she wasn’t here to rescue me. It may have started out that way, but first they took Malik because of her, and now I was going to be taken back to that cage, where I would be cut and raped and mocked until the end of my days.

I knew that this woman behind me no longer loved me, maybe never loved me at all. I could feel my heart breaking, which was absolutely ridiculous, because a heart could be squashed, a heart could be torn out, a heart could even be ripped into pieces. But, a heart couldn’t break, not like a bone could. However, looking at Shea behind me, feeling my limbs starting to give out, seeing the Ascended reach for me with bloodthirsty eyes as the woman I loved prepared to run, something in me snapped, and I was pretty damn sure it was my heart.

I heard screams, wild, roaring screams that may have been coming from me. Something feral in me came to life, something that had been present for five decades, but never consumed me in this way. Everything darkened as I leaped for my fiance's throat —

There was movement, jerking me from the dream, and into a brighter, more colorful world. One I did not know. The movement happened again, more sure this time, and I rolled on instinct, pinning the wriggling creature beneath me. I gave a growl of warning. The woman under me yelled something, her eyes wide with surprise. Some deep part of me recognized the word. Some part of me tried to struggle to the front at that sound. I knew this woman. I didn’t care.

My hand moved to her neck, pressing down and causing her to let out a woosh of air. She swung her arm at me, trying to break my hold, but I easily pinned it down by the wrist, holding her down even as she strained against my grip.

I could smell her. I could feel the blood pumping through her veins. I wanted that blood. I wanted to sink my teeth into her neck. I wanted to drink her blood until it filled my veins. I was hungry. No, I was starving. And here was my meal.

The woman said something again, the same word. Less hostile this time, and again that deep part of me tried to push to the front. I shoved it down once again, snarling.

She stilled, and I felt her heartbeat slow beneath my fingers. I still wanted her. I could still smell the blood in her veins, waiting there for me to take, but the feeling was less consuming.

There were more words that I didn’t care to listen to.

I trailed my gaze down her body, and a different scent hit my nose, something I hadn’t noticed before. It was strong, and sweet, and utterly enchanting. It smelled like… honeydew. I inhaled it, letting the scent fill my mind and body until I felt something twitch to life in my pants.

I shifted my hand, removing it from the woman’s neck, and towards the source of that intoxicating smell.

She moved as well, reaching her hand behind her to grab something. I paid no attention, too distracted by the way her robe was parted revealing her beautiful leg, and the crease that pointed right to where I wanted my mouth.

The honeydew smell was growing stronger by the second, and I lowered my head, my chin brushing her stomach. I needed this, I needed her. I needed to taste her until she screamed. I needed to devour her until there was nothing else but honeydew, and this curvy, beautiful, woman, with red hair like fire, and a scent that consumed me.

I lowered my head further, prepared to do just that.

Something cold and sharp pressed against my neck. I ignored it. It pressed in harder.

I couldn’t stop now. I wouldn’t. I needed this. She needed this. The scent was too strong, and something primal in me kept me moving. I moved the robe out of the way to look between the woman’s legs. I growled in appreciation, the scent growing stronger the close I got. My breath ghosted over her thighs, and she seemed to clench, her breathing growing heavier.

She started to say something again. That word I knew was in there, but it was easier to ignore with my face so close to her.

“Or we will find out what happens to an Atlantian when their throat gets cut.”

The sharp thing pressed in closer, and it took everything in me to drag my gaze away from between her thighs.

I stared at her, her eyes wide and a beautiful shade of green that was almost as captivating as her scent.

She said something else, that I wasn’t able to pay attention to. The moment of clear-headedness was gone.

My all-consuming hunger had taken hold of me again. It was a different kind of hunger this time however. Less for her blood, and more for her.

This woman was everything I wanted. Even in my fuzzy state of mind, I knew she wanted this as much as I did. I could still smell her, and each moment that my mouth wasn’t between her legs, devouring her flesh, each moment I couldn’t bury my face in her neck, biting and sucking until her blood flowed into my mouth was torment. Pure torment.

The hunger wasn’t just in my stomach, it was flowing through my body. I felt it in every nerve and bone, every piece of me, wanted her. In more ways than one.

The woman was still looking at me, her gaze wide and searching, as if looking for something that didn’t exist.

I didn’t feel anything except the pain and hunger. I didn’t know anything other than this woman and her scent. I needed her. Badly.

She tugged on her arm, the one that I still had pinned beneath my hand, and I let go, my thoughts more on what was emitting from between her thighs than whether or not she was pinned down.

My head moved almost of its own accord. My chin grazed the crease of her thigh, the scars that I didn’t bother to pay attention to.

There was that blood scent again, though it didn’t overpower the honeydew I was so focused on. I knew a major artery waited just beside my jaw. Just a small tip of the head, and I could have satisfied my hunger right there and then. But, I didn’t. I didn’t sink my fangs into her leg, no matter how much I wanted to. There was something else that demanded my attention right now. Something else that so utterly… utterly intrigued me.

The honeydew scent was going stronger, refilling my senses, after the momentary distraction. The sharpness at my neck trembled, and I growled again, a primal sound that I hadn’t even realized had come from me until seconds later.

I dipped my head, instinct taking over.

The sharpness left my neck, freeing me to lift the woman’s hips, and spread her thighs.

Moments later my mouth was on her, and I forgot all about my hunger.

My tongue sliced between her legs, and I found that this woman tasted just as good as she smelled. Even better. I slid my lips across her folds, devouring her, savoring the sweet taste of her on my tongue.

Each stroke, stoked the fire inside of me even more, and I found myself pressing in harder, spreading her legs further apart to allow for better access. The taste of honeydew invaded my senses, and I knew nothing except for this woman. This woman that I could feast on for the rest of eternity, and never grow tired of her taste and smell and the moans I could hear coming from her mouth.

She tried to move, to thrust her hips against my tongue, but I held her in place, pressing down on her legs to keep her from interrupting my ministrations. Her legs shook, and I felt her hands beside my head, gripping the sheets like a life-line. Some part of me felt almost smug. I could make her feel like this. I could give her pleasure, and make her scream, and only me. This perfect woman.

Her wetness coated my lips and mouth, and I knew that her flavor would be stuck on my tongue for many hours. I didn’t know how I had ever survived without this, how I had gone even a few moments since waking up without devouring this beautiful creature.

I could feel her hips stuttering, and I knew she felt pleasure from this. I knew that she was moments from coming apart, and sure enough, several seconds later, a loud scream when up, filling the room. I continued to lap at her, lightly grazing my teeth across the little bundle of nerves to prolong her pleasure. I never wanted this to stop. I never wanted this feast to end, but I lifted my head, catching sight of this glorious creature. Her hair, even messier, her face pink, her mouth open and chest heaving.

She blinked open her eyes, locking them with mine.

My hunger was sated. At least one part of it.

I parted my lips, moving forward, reading to sink my teeth into her pretty little neck—

There was someone else in the room.

A door had been opened to my right and a gust of wind was flowing through the room, cooling my heated skin. Footsteps, and then an abrupt stop.

I was going to kill them.

They spoke, and I shook with anger.

Swinging my head around I snarled, the noise promising death. Whoever had barged in, had just offered themselves up as dinner.

It was a man. Tawny-skinned with dark hair, that was long and coiled on the top, and trimmed close on the sides. His ice-blue eyes tugged at my memory, but I was too far-gone in my rage at being interrupted to pay much attention to it. The walls were about to run red with blood, whether I knew this man or not.

The woman was still lying beneath me, and I knew that this man would try to take her from me. That would not happen.

“Shit,” the man said, stepping forward, “Cas, my brother, I warned you this would happen.”

That world sounded familiar. Cas. The first part of what the woman said to me.

The woman repeated it

I ignored her, snarling at the man, and baring my fangs. Dead. That was what he was.

There was an exchange between the two. The man and the woman, talking as if they knew each other. I didn’t like it. She was mine.

But, something he said made me pause for a split second.

“...Poppy…”

I recognized that.

“Casteel.”

That… I recognized that too. I didn’t want to recognize either of them.

The woman reached out and placed a hand on my arm. I didn’t think much of it, not until the feelings started.

One moment there was only the hunger and rage, the next an onslaught of love. With each wave, the monster receded just a little bit. Every second I became more me.

Casteel. My name.

Poppy. The woman I was hopelessly in love with.

The man across from me was Kieran. Worried for me. Worried for his best friend.

The monster still held on a little. Still had it’s claws dug into my shoulders.

The woman, what was her name?

“It’s okay Hawke.”

Hawke.

My mother called me that.

The woman used to call me that.

I missed it.

I wished she would call me that more.

My entire body jerked, and it was like I had been set free.

Poppy removed her hand from my arm, sitting back. I looked down to see that the robe was still parted, and I saw the place where her legs met, still completely exposed.

I looked up, embarrassed, scared at what I would see in her face. Scared of what she now thought of me. How could I do that? How could I have let it get like that? This was all my fault. She would never trust me again, and for good reasons.

Poppy’s eyes were wide, her gaze filled with surprise and… and fear. I looked down, unable to stand it any longer.

She was still exposed, in front of both me and Kieran. She was probably uncomfortable. Ok, after what had just happened, she was definitely uncomfortable.

I tugged the two halves of her robe together, covering her upper legs and between them. The taste of honeydew was still on my tongue, still covered my lips.

“Honeydew,” I whispered, unable to stop myself. “I’m sorry.”

I was sorry. Gods I was so sorry.

I walked past Kieran, not strong enough to look at the expression on his face, and did the only thing I knew how to. I ran. As soon as I exited the terrace doors, I broke into a run, past servants, past those I had traveled to Solis with, sparing none of them a passing glance.

I turned a corner, my mind set on finding the nearest bucket of water to clean myself up. Poppy would probably be embarrassed if she knew I was running around with her release all over my mouth. Thankfully, one of the servants was walking up a flight of stairs to my left, carefully carrying a bucket of water and a sponge.

I nodded politely towards her, asking if I could use the water. She bowed leaving me with the bucket and sponge to clean myself up.

I stepped into the nearest empty room, striding towards the bathing chamber with the water. Making quick work of my face, I shaved as well, using the complementary razor left in a shelf by the sink.

I avoided looking in the mirror, knowing that what I would see, was not something I currently wanted to be seeing.

It didn’t take long for me to find my clothes and boots from last night, which had been washed and set out to dry the evening before. The boots had apparently been washed on the inside as well and still slightly damp. I cringed as I pulled them on, ignoring the way they squelched.

I knew breakfast was just starting, and I should probably go eat some real food, but I couldn’t make myself face either Poppy or Kieran, who would probably be there by now.

There was another kind of hunger, one that consumed me like it had this morning. I hadn’t taken any blood in a long time. Not since we were in Masadonia, and Naill had offered me his wrist. I was starving for it, and I knew that if I went to any Atlantian here, they would be more than happy to give me their blood, but the thought disgusted me.

I couldn’t possibly take blood from someone else, when my mind was so utterly focused on Poppy. It was too intimate a gesture to even consider doing it with someone else. But I knew damn well I couldn’t take Poppy’s blood either. I was too close to the edge, and I could hurt her. No, I wouldn’t ask her to do that. I wouldn’t add her blood to the ever growing list of things I’d taken from her.

Instead I headed towards where I knew Alistir waited. I would talk with him, find out how many would be traveling with us to Saion’s Cove, and in how many days we would leave. I would distract my mind from Poppy, and ignore my hunger. Because that was the only thing I could do, if I was going to keep from breaking apart.

My dream from earlier came back to me. I had never told Poppy about Shea, though she knew that I had been in love before. I didn’t want to talk about her, ever. I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind, and stood up, preparing myself for yet another day.

#poppy x casteel #poppy balfour #casteel da'neer #kieran contou #smut #non consent #from blood and ash #a kingdom of flesh and fire #the crown of gilded bones #fbaa #akofaf #tcogb

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kwonhoshi0 · 3 years

Text

𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 | fic

navigation | requests : open | 12th march 2021

pairing : dabi x fem!reader

genre : fluff, angst

word count : 3.1k

warnings : fire, death, trauma

themes : strangers to lovers, mutual pining, denial, story changes,

summary : you had to get away from the toxicity that is your father and the hero society. after 17 years of being trapped, you finally have a chance to escape but with a man you didn’t really expect to help. you wondered why he helped you, you don’t know it’s because you don’t question his looks, you saw him not his scars.

you didn't plan for this, you didn't expect him to save you.

the corrupted superhuman society, the toxic society you lived in angered you. maybe things would've been different if your quirk, or your parents weren't who they are.

they wanted to mold you into the perfect weapon against villains, were the villains really the bad guys? who had the right of calling people heroes and villains. what separated them.

those thoughts you asked yourself each day growing up, if you could even call it that.

everything was okay at first, you felt loved, but once your quirk manifested that changed, drastically.

training everyday until you couldn't move, the tears, the bruises. when would it be enough, is this really what it took to be a hero, to be deemed worthy of such a title?

you had already had to endure 12 years of training constantly, for your dad. you always wondered what is would've been like, to grow up in a stable happy home.

your father had been rejected by the superhuman society, his views were called sick and twisted. he wanted, needed to make you the best. that would've been okay if he let you have a childhood, if he trained you like a daughter not a robot.

your fathers quirk is jet fire, he can quite literally make jets of fire with his mouth. the green haired man wasn't always bad, he didn't always push you or bruise you. you remembered there was a time, he would hold you, he’d spin you around.

your quirk is the manipulation of fire, with the particles around you, you can create fire and other gases like smoke. it was a literal merge of your parents quirk, except you don’t breathe fire you create it with your hands.

your mother hasn't talked to you properly since your father started training you at the age of 5. maybe it was the guilt, she never questioned her husband, he had left another woman for your mother, personally you thought she was the last thing holding your fathers sanity together. the guilt of ruining you, corrupting you had haunted her so much she didn't even notice the scars and bruises on your body.

you had never had a real mother figure to show you how strong women are. she would never tell you this but she wondered where you got your anger and courage from.

everyone has a breaking point. yours was when you realized your parents would be living your life for you until they die. that terrified you more than you'd like to admit. the thought of living your life as a hero, a hero you didn't believe in or want to be. an entire lifetime in someone else’s shadow.

did you really live 17 years for this.

you thought about this as you stared up into your ceiling. it was 1am and you couldn't sleep, again.

you had had an argument with the green haired man you were cursed to call dad. it got heated and you locked yourself in your room, you had a bag packed full of clothes and money. staring at it you thought, is it worth it, will all this be worth it.

heroes and villains, you scoffed, they're all the same.

hearing loud steps coming up the stairs, you panicked standing up quickly and shoving the bag into your closet.

“y/n!”

“what” you looked at your door where the man stood, putting your book down next to you.

“training in 1 hour” you stared at him incredulously, it is 1 fucking am and this lunatic wants me to train, Now.

“no” you deserve sleep, you only finished training a couple hours ago.

“you will train with me in one hour, or else i’m taking your phone and you’ll be training until tomorrow night.” you sighed frustrated and angry as he slammed your door shut. of course he’d take away my one fucking escape.

your eyes darted to the bag peaking out the corner of your closet, maybe today is the day.

you stared at it for a minute before grabbing the bag and checking everything was in there before grabbing a couple more items of clothing and your charger cable. you quickly got changed out of your training clothes and shoved on some baggy jeans and a black turtle neck with some boots. ‘fuck okay, we’re doing this’

you grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your sheets to make it look like you’re sleeping and opened your window, your room was on the second floor so you weren't worried about the drop, you jumped down using smoke to soften your fall and you ran through the alleyways of the city.

after an hour of running you leaned against the wall of an alley and checked your phone to see 30 missed calls from your father. before leaving you made sure to turn off the tracking app and restrictions on your phone.

as you turned to run through the alley you felt eyes on you, a cold breath made the hairs on your neck jolt up, yelping slightly you jumped forward to see.. some sort of sludge monster?

‘fuck’ you breathed as it backed you against the corner, throwing your bag to the side you floated up a little with your quirk and blasted fire at it, it parted where you aimed the fire before molding back together, ‘strong, worthy of me’ it breathed and it collided with you making you scream out in pain, it was agony, it felt like it was ripping you apart inside out.

you could hear voices coming closer but you were a little preoccupied. you had an idea, you slowly created as much fire you could with your hands, the creature shrieked pushing you away as you gasped air filling your lungs again.

you noticed a circular black matter at the end of the alley where the sludge monster appeared from, before you could inspect it it shrunk until it was nothing.

the same voices you heard earlier yelled as the sludge monster slipped through the drains “she’s valuable, she defeated that monster” a man said coming closer to you, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows “touch me and you die” you breathed standing up from the dirty alley floor. “feisty too” he chuckled.

you were outnumbered, it was 6 to 1 in a small alleyway. before the men could come any closer a voice behind them made them turn, ‘the people you wanted dead are just that, where’s my payment ’ you couldn't see his face so you attempted to look around for an escape, you noticed a drain pipe leading up to a sturdier metal one, if you could jump onto the electric box and swing your up you could make it onto the roof, you just needed to time it perfectly.

one of the men turned to keep an eye on you, “we’ll have your payment in a week” the man in the middle scoffed turning back to you, “you know that’s not good enough, the payment, now or i’ll burn you to ashes” he said with venom laced in his voice, one of the 6 men had moved to the side, you had a clear few of who they were talking to you, you felt as your face heat up at him but you shook it off.

you raised an eyebrow at him signalling to the metal bar, you weren't sure if he’d help you but he’d probably help you if it was for his benefit as well. he flicked an eye between you and the metal bar immediately smirking at your plan.

you took his smirk as a confirmation and grabbed your bag from the floor and lifted yourself up with smoke from your feet and jumped swinging yourself from the metal bar to the roof, before you could fully push yourself onto the roof you felt a hand gripping onto your leg, you tried shaking the man off only to feel blue heat take over the alley beneath you.

your eyes widened slightly as the scarred man continued burning the men below you, “stop it!” you yelled as he raised an eyebrow at you the blue flames dying down to nothing.

you sighed in relief rolling onto your back, the men scurried away, burnt but alive.

“why’d you stop me?” he asked, you supported yourself on your elbows as he climbed up onto the roof, he didn't look mad, it was a genuine question. “i don’t know maybe i didn't want to see anyone die.” you deadpanned sitting up dusting the dirt off of your clothes.

he looked at you as if you were the most confusing person in the world, you hadn't asked about his scars or flinched when you saw him, or stared at the purple marks around his face and body. he wanted to know why.

“what?, do i have something on my face” you pouted slightly running a hand through your hair. “no, just surprised” you pursed your lips as if waiting for him to say more, you stood up and grabbed the bag full of your belongings you mumbled a “thanks”.

“what was that smokey?” he smirked, a nickname, really. you rolled your eyes at his remark “you should be thanking me as well, without me you would’ve been cornered” he nodded a little at your words “hm well, what’re you doing out here”.

“ran away” you said quickly as you stared at the missed calls on your phone screen. “i need to get away from here” you added as he watched your every move as if trying to decipher you.

“well, you wanna go to hosu?” you looked up at him in disbelief, “what’s in it for you”, he looked conflicted you weren't great at reading people, its not like you had friends or anyone other than your parents around growing up.

“might change my mind” he grinned before motioning you to follow him, you cautiously followed his steps along the rooftop. “wait i don’t even know your name”. he turned around for a split second before jumping onto another roof, you did the same, “what’s yours”.

“y/n mido- just y/n” if you were really going to leave this world behind then this is where to start, leaving behind your fathers name.

“names dabi, why did you run away” he’s intriguing, besides you needed to get as far away as possible and he’s willing to help so telling him this isn't exactly a danger to you.

“my dads a dick, he’s trying to train me to become the greatest hero but if this is what it takes to have the fucking honor of being called a hero then i don’t want it. i don’t want to be controlled my whole life, or live a life i don’t want”.

“huh, sounds familiar” he joked leading you out of the alleys closer to the lit up streets of the city. you smiled at his joke before jumping down the building as he did using smoke to soften your fall again, he zipped the trench coat up around his mouth and let the hood cover his hair, his piercing blue eyes and nose were the only facial features visible, you laughed slightly at the sight making him roll is eyes at you.

you moved to peak around the corner of the alley, dabi stuck out a protective arm before peaking out as you tried to do a couple seconds before. he let his arm fall to his side again before motioning you to join him, you walked beside him.

the large lights and billboards made your eyes go wide, “what you never seen the city at night before?” he joked watching your expression stay the same, you looked like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, it was endearing yet sad. had you really been isolated like this, never even seeing something as simple as lights in the darkness.

“i told you, my dad trained me most of my life, so I've never had the luxury of seeing this, never mind at night.”

he hummed at your words as he turned another corner grabbing your arm and dragging you in at the last second making you yelp, a couple motorbikes and cars stood in a line along the small street. the man eyed each of the bikes, you watched as he grabbed a key from a pocket in his oversized trench coat and placed it into a black and blue motorbike before throwing a leg over the seat and turning a head to you. “you coming or not?”.

you grinned before jumping up into the seat.

the world blurred past you, lights buildings and people became one, it really was beautiful, your wide eyes tried to catch everything as you sped past. “where are we going!” you yelled over the noises of traffic and people. “1 day in the city, then hosu city”.

you had never felt more alive, of course you were taking a risk going somewhere you didn't know with a stranger but this was better than being trapped in a house you couldn't call home.

you gripped his waist as he sped up slightly, he probably didn't how much you hadn't seen, or how much you'd been cut off from the world you thought, in reality he knew more than anyone.

he was busy in thought as you sped past the lit buildings, he watched in the small metal mirror at your expression.

she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.

maybe this was a bad idea, i could’ve just told them i lost her.

the sun started rising a little after you left for the centre of the city, the sunrise you knew all too well rose, sleepless nights led to you watching the sunrise on the rooftop of your house. it was lonely, being alone wasn't something you thought about often. people are disappointing is what you had been taught through experience but however much you wanted to be okay with loneliness you knew you’d find someone to change that, a friend.

“aye you still awake?”,

“mhm”, he grunted in return as you asked him about how much he’d seen of the city, the conversation went onto talk of your family.

“my mother, she was so in love with the idea of my dad that she kind of just ignored how he treated me, they were good parents at some point, but somewhere along the line that changed”

the day was the most fun you had ever had and much to his disgust you went shopping, you were taking a while “fucking hell, yeah that’s fine”, you frowned at his tone before grinning “hm ill find something better”.

“No, no that is good, yeah its great stick with that”, you laughed at his annoyance before going to pay, “i’ll pay” you shook your head a little grabbing the card you put your fathers money on.

he rolled his eyes before shoving his own card in the machine and punching in a couple numbers, you thanked him and took the bags resting them on your arms.

the day went by faster than you liked, you soon found yourself heading towards the motorbike, the black haired man followed next to you eyeing your every move.

she’s going to hate me.

you followed the road out of the city towards another, the lights slowly becoming only dim streetlights. the bright yellow lights of the city were far behind you but even within the peace something was off, you could feel the tension between you and the male, even if you were to ask its not as if he’s going to tell someone he’s known for a little over a day.

“where are we staying in hosu?” you tried to fill the tension with small talk, the man sped up a little before answering “with a couple uh friends, they’re weird”. you nodded as if he could see you, just as you were about to ask him about his ‘friends’ you felt a drop of water hit your cheek.

as the rain slowly got heavier you giggled feeling the drops slide down your face, “what’s so funny smokey” he turned slightly to look at you, you blinked the rain out of your eyes to look at him not expecting to see his bright cerulean eyes looking straight into yours, your breath hitched slightly but you didn't look away, his eyes averted back to the road again and you let out of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

he found himself somehow jealous of the fact that the rain got to touch you, your eyes lit up as you watched the lightning flash across the night sky.

he huffed in anger at himself for even feeling these things, whatever, shes gonna hate me after this anyway.

with only an hour left for hosu you felt yourself getting tired and you grabbed a monster from your bag, you opened the can shuddering a little at the cold you chugged most of the acidic down your throat before hearing the boy in front of you elbow your knee, his hand was held out for the drink, you rolled your eyes pouting slightly and handed him the drink, the rest of the sugary drink drained down his throat.

something about him intrigued him, maybe it was his mysterious nature, mystery had always drawn you in, it was fun figuring out mysteries and conspiracies, so why is he so difficult to figure out. his eyes were the most mysterious to you, his bright ocean filled eyes. they held so many stories, so many emotions you couldn't decipher.

“hey i asked you a question” you shook away your thoughts and asked dabi to repeat it he sighed shaking his head before smirking for a split second, “i asked how much you hate villains”, you furrowed your eyebrows at his question.

“i don’t hate villains.” you said simply he looked back at you as if asking you to carry on.

“its unfair how quick people are to decide the difference between heroes and villains, most heroes aren’t even good people, they're just fakes hiding behind the mask that is saving people, you hurt people in secret your whole life and then save a couple people and you’re suddenly a hero?, i don’t hate villains, i hate people who think get can choose who’s a hero and who’s a villain just from their appearance”.

he thought for a couple minutes before his lips curled into a small smile, she really gets it huh.

“i’m not stupid, i know you’re deemed a villain dabi, but you don’t seem one to me”, his smile softened a little as if you said the most meaningful words to exist, he felt his walls slowly breaking for you, worst part is he let it happen.

he turned one final corner before parking outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse, you hopped off the bike and followed the man to the door he sighed slightly, he let you go in front of him, you stopped at the door and turned around to look at him questioning his sigh.

he inched closer to you as your back pressed against the door, your eyes widened as his former comforting smile turned into a sad smile, as if he wished this could last.

your breath hitched as his face got closer, he grinned for a second his nose brushing against your own, just as you thought he was going to kiss you he pulled back slightly and lifted his hand which was clenched as if he was holding something, his hand stopped level to his mouth, he opened it and blew the powder into your face making you immediately collapse.

you didn’t expect him to save you anyway.

A/N : damn so part2? DJSF

FUN FACT : manga spoiler : when he said “ she’s the type to fall in love with everything unreachable, just like i once did.” he was talking about his desire to become the greatest hero with his quirk but because of his body is was unreachable.

taglist : @todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years

Text

Even You

Bo Sinclair x F Reader (NSFW)

Part 3

Read Part 2 here

Summary: You kill Bo with kindness.

Warnings: Dubcon, slapping, spitting, biting, choking, daddy kink, praise kink, oral, dominant-ish reader. Starts out extremely dubious but quickly slows down. Heed the warnings please.

“Get yer shoes on, let’s go.”

You look up at Bo from your spot on the couch, a half-folded shirt in your hands. Laundry is scattered all around you in heaps. Lester rests in the chair opposite you and glances up from the magazine in his hands.

“Go?” You ask, slowly folding the t-shirt and placing it in a basket.

“We’re goin’ to town. Gotta pick up a couple a’ things.” You frown. He’s…taking you to town? That’s hard to believe.

“Uh…. You sure that’s a good idea?” Lester asks, sitting up straighter in his chair, eyes flicking from you to Bo.

“Next time I need yer opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Bo spits, adjusting his cap and fishing the truck keys out of his pocket. You figure it’s best not to argue.

Hastily, you toss the laundry back into the basket and hurry to the door to slip into your shoes. You meet Bo in the truck, sliding into the passenger seat as the pick-up roars to life. You sit quietly, occasionally glancing at Bo out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to tell you where you’re really going.

He’s silent, mouth twisted in a scowl. Great, he’s in a bad mood. Again.

“We’re…uh…not going to town, are we?” you ask. It’s phrased like a question, but you know he knows you aren’t asking. He answers anyway.

“What do ya’ think I am? Stupid?” He turns off the main road onto a dusty dirt trail. The pick-up lumbers down the path, bouncing you in your seat with every lurch of the cab. Bo must find the spot he wants because he pulls off the road entirely, parking under the shade of a massive locust tree.

The second the truck goes quiet he’s on you, crawling across the seat to shove you back against the window. His lips find yours in a bruising kiss, teeth knocking into your own and biting your bottom lip until you taste copper. His hands shove your legs apart before grabbing your hips to pull you flush against him.

You gasp and shove against his chest, anything to get him to slow down a little. He’s everywhere, hands in your hair, at your waist, groping your ass, tongue in your mouth, on your neck—You can hardly breath.

“Bo—

You try but gasp in shock when he slaps you across the face, his palm leaving stinging redness in its wake. He grips your jaw and forces your eyes to meet his. There’s so much burning anger in those baby blues it scares you into silence.

“I don’t wanna hear a sound outta ya’ unless it’s a ‘Please’ or a ‘Thank you,’ got it?” You nod, biting your lip.

“Open yer mouth,” he orders. You do. Without warning, Bo spits. Thick saliva lands on your tongue and splatters on your parted lips. Before you can react, he smears it across your cheek, laughing cruelly when you jerk away, disgusted.

A cry leaves your throat when he leans down and sinks his teeth into the flesh where your shoulder meets your neck. He growls into your skin and you wonder if you’re going to be okay when this is all over. You don’t dare speak again, but you’re beginning to panic. He might really hurt you.

What you decide to do next may be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, but you figure it’s you’re only shot. While he’s distracted with your shirt, you grab his forearm and bring his wrist to your mouth, placing a tender kiss to the angry, red scars curled around his skin.

Everything freezes; Bo, you, time itself. You hold your breath as Bo stares, wide-eyed and shocked. You watch in slow motion as the shock morphs into anger, his blue eyes growing dark as his brow draws down.

The hand you aren’t holding darts out and latches onto your neck, squeezing until you release him and grip the wrist around your throat. You cough and he squeezes harder until your mouth opens and closes in a futile attempt to draw in air.

Only one thing to do.

You reach out and lay your palm against his sweaty cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Immediately he releases you and sits back, looking at you like you’ve grown another head. You gasp and hack, gripping your sore throat and moving to your knees. You swallow thickly a few times to lubricate your dry throat before speaking.

“It—it doesn’t always have to be like this, Bo. Everyone…listen, everyone deserves some gentleness. Even you.” Boldly, you take his hand, fingers sneaking under his sleeve and tracing the scars you just pressed to your lips. His own lips thin into a line and he jerks his hand out of your grip.

“Don’t believe me? Fine. Then…then I’ll just have to show you.” Heart hammering, every fiber in your body screaming at you to back off already, you crawl forward until you’re seated in his lap. He huffs through his nose, eyes narrowing in warning, but you persist.

Gingerly, you lean forward, cupping his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. He doesn’t kiss back, but doesn’t pull away either. Your fingers slide down to trace his jaw, then the shell of his ear, before carding through the damp hair on the back of his neck.

Infinitesimally, you feel his shoulders relax. You continue to stroke his hair, the back of his neck and eventually his lips move against yours, lightly at first, skin just brushing, cigarette-scented breath ghosting over your face. His hands come up from where they’d been clenched at his sides to rest on your hips.

Your lips move to his cheek, tenderly caressing, before kissing along his jaw, fingers slipping under his chin to tip his head back. Bo allows it and you blow lightly on the dewy skin of his neck before leaning in to kiss, to lick, to nip. When your teeth graze his racing pulse a little broken noise escapes his throat. The sound goes straight between your legs and you reward him with a little roll of your hips.

Bo’s hands slide under your shirt to grip your waist and pull you closer. You grind your hips down against the hard length in his jeans and he inhales though his teeth, hips bucking. Your mouth returns to his and you suck on his bottom lip while your fingers trail down his chest to unbuckle his belt.

You swallow another of his tiny whimpers when you reach into his boxer briefs to give him one, slow stroke. You hum against his mouth, lips trailing across his cheek to his ear. Nibbling on his earlobe, you whisper, “Fuck, you’re so hard for me, daddy. Wanna feel how wet you make me?”

Bo’s hand flies to your hair and he groans. You take that as a, “Yes”, so you tease the head of his cock with your thumb while unbuttoning your own shorts. You slip off his lap and shimmy out of your bottoms before straddling him once more so you can slide his hot length along your slick folds.

Mouth returning to his ear, you purr, “Please, daddy, can I fuck you?”

“Jesus, fuck, yes,” Bo whines, his dirty nails digging into the meat of your hip. Eagerly, you position yourself over his cock, slowly sinking down until your slippery muscles swallow every inch.

Torturously slow, you roll your hips. The desperate noise that you pull from Bo’s throat makes you clench and grind into his lap. You bury your fingers into the hair on the back of his neck, tipping his head back so you can suck a deep purple mark just above his collarbone.

“You feel so fucking good, daddy. I love how full you make me. Please, I wanna go faster, can I fuck you faster?” Bo’s voice breaks when he tries to speak so you buck your hips until he’s moaning and gripping the back of your neck to ground himself.

You lean back and tip his head down until you’re looking into his eyes. He’s a wreck; sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks tinged pink, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide, lips parted, chest heaving. He’s putty in your hands and, for a moment, you understand why he likes the control. It’s a power trip, to be sure.

You kiss him again, whisper against his lips how good he looks. You thank him for his cock, for allowing you to fuck him so good. He lets loose a whiny, “Fuck,” that makes heat spike through your gut until you keen. You’re sure you’re going to spontaneously combust if he makes one more sound.

“Daddy, you’re gonna make me cum, I’m gonna cum all over your cock, please, I want to, please can I cum?” He doesn’t even try to speak this time, just nods, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you moan his name and crash into ecstasy. Your spasming cunt milks his throbbing cock and you feel the telltale jerk of his hips, signaling his own end is near.

Hastily, you slip off his lap and squeeze down under the dash so you can suck his cock into your mouth. You take him until your nose meets the dark curls at the base. Bo fists a hand in your hair, a strangled shout ripping from his throat as he slams into yours. Salty warmth spills onto your tongue and you make sure to swallow it all. You hollow out your cheeks as you resurface, coming away from his twitching cock with a quiet pop.

“Thank you, daddy,” you murmur, placing a gentle kiss on his softening length. Panting and slack-jawed, Bo shudders and lets his head fall back against the headrest, groaning quietly. Without another word, you crawl back onto the seat and curl into his side.

Bo drapes his arm over your shoulders and you take his other hand, bringing it to your mouth to press soft kisses to each fingertip. Heaving a shuddering sigh, he lifts his head and peers down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He seems guarded, maybe, and possibly a bit confused.

You offer him a small, reassuring smile. Bo clears his throat and sniffs, seeming to come out of his trance. He slides back into the driver’s seat, hand going to the keys in the ignition.

“You got a filthy mouth, ya’ know that? Got damn, girl.”

You snort and roll your eyes. Bo Sinclair, the poet.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #house of wax (2005)#n sfw #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x you #dubcon #my writing

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sin-of-jess · 3 years

Text

Dabi

Type: Smut

Just knowing a villain can be tough, but being in a predicament like mine was wild. I never know when Dabi is going to be in my part of town, but when he did he was sure to make it worth every second.

I had run to the store at an awful time, many people just off work and shopping at this moment. I had bought enough food to last me the week and was more than happy when I sat the four grocery totes down to unlock my door.

I realized as I grabbed the door that the door wasn't locked, and a certain man had drilled into my head about locking doors so I knew it was when I had left. My heart jumped into my throat then plummeted into my stomach at the thought that someone had broke in.

I activate my needle quirk, 'just go straight for the eyes,' rings in my head. It was a gruesome but effective tip given to me, befittingly enough, by the only villain I knew.

Leaving the bags by the doorway, I creep silently through the entrance and into the living room. The lights flicker on and I let out a squeak as I release my needles directly at the man's head.

Though Dabi knew better and merely tilted his head to avert the attack, "Good shot."

I let out a groan as I bend over and grip at my chest, "You scared the FUCK out of me!"

He chuckles as he turns and walks towards the bedroom, "Come with me."

Standing straight I watch as he wordlessly walks into my room. So it was going to be one of those visits? My lower stomach clenches as I turn and scurry over to grab the bags and lock the door. Not wanting to bother with sorting I toss all four of the bags into the fridge for now.

I unravel my hair and adjust my dress so my chest looks more revealing; he didn't look angry, really he looked amused about something. He wasn't a man of many words, so I had to do my best to read his mannerisms.

My room was lit by an array of my candles, the bedspread gone with only my bedsheet and pillows left; there were also four cuffs attached to each end of the bed that were new. "Strip." He orders.

Wordlessly I comply as I head to the bed, his eyes never leaving my body as he leans against my dresser. He meets me and gently pushes me down, my body getting in position to be handcuffed. He cuffs my wrists first; his fingertips tracing from my wrist, across my chest, then to my other wrist before going down along my stomach and repeating the process at my ankles.

Once fully secured he gives a firm slap to my right thigh, a squeal coming at the sudden sensation as my body attempts to curl in. "Just checking to see if they were tight enough." He says with a hint of mirth.

His fingertips trail back to my chest, by now my nipples were hard as rocks and sensitive to his calloused touch. A gasp comes from me as he pinches and twists my right nipple.

"You always look so good vulnerable." He comments as he alternates nipples, flicking one before switching to the other.

I only whimper in response, knowing talking out of turn would only get me punished. When he gets his fill, he moves painfully slow across my stomach and tracing around my pelvic bone. Just as he's at my slit, my hips unconsciously lifting.

"Ah-ah, desperate little slut, aren't you?" He chides, pulling away fully and walking away from the bed. A whine comes from my closed lips, desire flowing through my veins.

He grabs a candle and struts over, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, "Let's teach you a little lesson." He tells me as he swirls the melted wax around the glass.

He starts by slowly trailing the jar over my body, teasing me by letting the hot liquid reach the rim of the candle jar before tilting it back. My body tensed every time, anticipating when he'd finally do it.

"Ahh!" I yell out when the wax finally hits my ribs, my back arching at the contact. He only grins wickedly as he lifts the jar upright, adjusting the position of the candle before tilting it and leaving a hot wax trail from one breast to the other.

A groan comes from me as my core twitches, the mild sting from the wax effectively arousing me. He continues the onslaught, watching in twisted delight as he paints me from neck to knees.

The first candle runs out of the liquid, so he places it back on the dresser and grabs one from the bedside table. He focuses on my stomach and chest for a few more minutes, and by the time he's done, it looks as if I have a cracked up cast on my entire middle.

He may be a villain, but he was kind enough to keep the wax from my center, the other time he had done this we found that this particular spot on my body didn't enjoy the pain. It was convenient though since there was no waxy mess getting in the way of his fingers as he delved in.

He shoves his pointer finger inside me, the mess from me flowing enough to have already formed a tiny wet spot on the bed below me. He gives a few pumps before pulling the digit out and roughly rubbing my clit. I moan out shamelessly, knowing the man enjoyed watching me come undone. 'my little whore's so weak' was his favorite line when he tormented me with pleasure.

He's slow to take off his clothes, eyes glinting with mischief as he watched my eyes dart around every new part of exposed skin. His body was fit, and his scars gave him a look of danger that I was shamelessly weak for. He was dangerous, a violent criminal known by many heroes. Here I was a mess as I impatiently waited for the man to wreck my insides, how disappointed my friends and family would be if they knew.

His cock was impressive, and I watched entranced as it bobbed from the motion of him climbing onto the bed. I licked my lips as I watched him slowly stroke himself, anticipated what he was ready to do next.

He took a moment to roughly grab and grope at my chest with one hand, his main goal to break apart the mold of wax(How could he watch them bounce if they were locked away in wax?) A whining moan coming out as he pulled hard at one nipple once freed. He aligns himself to my cunt, and with a flinch of his hips had himself deep inside me.

No matter how many times he takes me, the shot of pleasure that comes from being filled by his thick cock stays the same. It's powerful, and he wastes no time in starting a steady pace.

My arms tense, wanting nothing more to grip onto his arms as he pounds into me. His speed is fast, and I'm already feeling an orgasm coming. I grind into him, the wax play leaving me close to cumming without finally peaking. He can see my desperation and stops, fully sheathed inside he grinds into me. The pleasure's there, but he knows it's not enough to bring me to bliss.

I know what the man wants, "Please!" I moan out, my stomach tensing as the dull stimulation continues. His trimmed bush tickles my clit, but nothing is quite getting me where I want to be. He knows it, and his eyelids grow heavy from lust as he lets his hand hover over my stomach.

"What do you want, kitten?" He asks, small flickers of flames coming from his hand as he works to make some of the hardened wax return to its liquid state. The sensation is different than having it merely dropped onto my skin, my pussy clenching him as I pull at my restraints.

"I want you to make me cum!" He loved when I begged, and I loved giving him what he wants, "I want to see stars, I want more Dabi PLEASE!" I emphasize the last part by grinding myself into him.

He returns his now hot hand to my hip, pistoning into me as he leans forward. His eyes are focused on my bouncing tits, but I can't keep my eyes off his hips and cock as they glisten from my juices.

"AH YEEEES!" I scream out as I finally cum, my entire body going rigid as my tongue lolls out. His hands tighten on my hips, bruises sure to form. A stronger wave hits me as he speeds up, small noises coming from his lips sounding so erotic another orgasm is ripped from me.

A small, breathy moan comes as he cums, hips jerking slightly as he pumped me full. Cum immediately dribbles out of me when he pulls out, my body sinking into the bed as I relish in the after-bliss.

He steps off the bed, brushing stray bits of wax off his hips and thighs. Satisfied the man turns around, heading towards my door.

"Ah... Dabi?" I question, shaking one of my wrists when he looks over his shoulder.

"Tch, who the fuck said we're done?" He replies with squinted eyes. My pussy clenches, more of Dabi leaking out as I watch the man disappear from view. What the hell did he have planned?

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha x reader #mha smut

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

Tadashi Oneshot (Big Hiro 6)

"(Y/N) do you wanna come with us to the cafe, Hiro is celebrating our newest rescue." Honey Lemon's offer was tempting, but you denied.

"It's okay, you guys have fun. I got midterms next week. Gonna try and shove as much information into my brain."

"Hah, if you were a genius you wouldn't have to." Hiro taunts. You just grab him into a headlock, and now he's struggling. He's at an obvious disadvantage with the height difference. "I don't need to be a genius to beat you up short stuff."

When he finally gets free he's fixing his hair with a little growl.

"Just wait until I get taller!" He hollers. You laugh, and he's running off with Fred and Baymax. Wasabi and Gogo are close behind lecturing them about crossing the street recklessly. Honey Lemon is just beaming as she follows. Tadashi is the one who stops to look your way. The moment his brown eyes meet yours you look away, turning your back and heading in the opposite direction.

"Is that really the reason, or are you just trying to avoid me." You tense, stopping in your tracks. You just clench the bag by its straps.

"I don't know what you mean." It's said so coldly, and you just continue walking, not looking back or even hearing him out. When you're at a reasonable distance you can finally breathe better. It's then that you chance a look back, and Tadashi is still standing there with a solemn look on his face. There's obvious guilt, and you don't pay it much mind turning the corner.

You were a part of their friend group. No, you weren't a genius or even a hero like the rest of them. You were just a friend. You thought it was awesome, not many people could say they were friends with Sanfransokyo's superhero squad. You were just an average teen, enjoying college life. Trying to at least.

After the fire at the University, everything changed. The man behind the crime was caught and locked up, and no one was hurt. Tadashi wasn't hurt. Even though that was the case, you were angry at him. When he stormed into the building it exploded, everyone assumed he was gone, but luckily he'd gotten trapped in a backroom that was built to handle high temperatures. You'd never forget that day.

The fire department stormed the building and recovered his body that was thankfully unharmed. All he'd received was a small burn on his right arm. But for you, it left a lot more than a battle scar. Tadashi had been your friend for years, even when you were kids he was always considered the level headed one. He had to be with his parents gone, and you knew he needed to be the example for his younger brother. You were two years younger than Tadashi. It could have been the fact that he was older that you always admired him. But as you started to grow, that admiration turned into a crush, and that crush formed love. You were in love with him, probably long before you even fully understood what the word meant.

So that day when he rushed into a flaming building, you were just a couple feet outside, and the moment the explosion went off, you felt like your heart had been ripped right out of your chest. You couldn't speak, move, breathe..

Discovering that he was not only alive but fairly unharmed, it was easily the best news you got that day. But since that day, you've never been able to look him in the eyes. Whenever you saw him that dreadful feeling returned, it was like you were being suffocated. Rather than confront those negative feelings, you were trying to avoid it, except Tadashi wasn't an idiot.

Three months passed, of course he would notice. You made sure to never be alone with him. As a group, you could manage, and luckily no one else picked up on your distance. For now, you needed time to sort through your feelings. If you could get over how much you felt for him, maybe you could return to being friends.

"I promise I'll always be there (Y/N). We're best friends after all." A childish promise when you were young. It was ridiculous to cling onto something like that.

~~~~

"Food." Your stomach had been grumbling for the last half hour, and you were so in tune to the tv show that you were ignoring it. The buzzing of your phone made your eyes shift. It was a text from Hiro.

"Can you stop by, I wanna show you my newest upgrade to Baymax. "

You were about to respond but another message popped up.

"Don't forget the gummies." you giggled responding and tucking the device into your pocket. Now you really needed to get food.

It took about fifteen minutes to get there. You stepped out of our car, tucking the pack of gummies under your arm as you tried to balance your own meal. Locking your car, you headed into the building, stopping when you got to Tadashi's door. You opened it.

"Hey Hiro you better pay me back for the gummies cause I nearly dropped my chicken for your stupid-" your words stop mid way. Tadashi is standing in the room, having turned when he heard your voice. You placed your food and Hiro's on the table, swallowing.

"S-Sorry I..Hiro said he wanted to show me something so I just dropped by, but I can come back later." you don't want to be in here alone with him, you can't.

"(Y/N)." you're still facing him, and it's hard to not look at him.

"I guess it's harder for you to look at me now. Some of the girls have said this scar is cool, but most people aren't as impressed." Your brows knit at his words. He's trying to play it off as a joke, but there's a sadness that reaches his usually bright chocolate orbs.

"You..you really think it's because of a stupid scar." You're angry now, furious. Was his opinion that low of you that you'd shun him for a wound he got trying to help someone.

"BASTARD!!" Tadashi's is completely thrown by your words, and he can see it now, the sheer anger. "Stupid stupid stupid!!" your screaming, and Tadashi takes a step forward, not prepared at all for your outburst. When he gets closer he can see the tears, and it hurts him to see you so torn.

"Why are you-"

"YOU'RE SO SELFISH WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!!!" He reaches out to touch you, maybe try and calm you down but you shove him back. "You could have died and you just left me. Y-You didn't even care about Hiro..What would he have done, you're his only brother. Y-You just ran into the fire like you were some type of bullet proof vest! You didn't care!!! You don't care one bit about anything!! I hate you! I HATE YOU!!!"

Now it was starting to make sense. How could he not realize before. You were scared.

Terrified was more like it.

"(Y/N)..." He should have been more understanding of your feelings. Even Hiro was pissed with him when it all happened. It wasn't like he planned for that. It was somewhat of a reflex, he couldn't help it. "I hate you.." you mumble, dropping to your knees, Tadashi went down with you, pulling you into his arms. This entire misunderstanding was solely your fear of losing him. He should have put it together sooner.

You'd known each other forever. Making such a decision without considering the residual effect it would have not just on his family but also his friends. At the end everyone was far more happy that he survived, but it could have just as easily turned bad.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N). I should have done things differently." helping people had always been something he wanted to do. It's a bit impossible to help if you're not there though. Risking his life like that, it was reckless. In a way he acted the same he'd constantly told his brother not to. Impulsive. The sincerity in his eyes, you could see it. This was the first time in a while that you'd been able to really look at him. He gave a small smile, and you returned it.

"S-Sorry I called you a bastard." Tadashi laughed, wiping at your cheeks.

"I think I deserved it. So no harm done."

Now that you were no longer high on the adrenaline of the situation, you felt a bit vulnerable. Tadashi was so close. "You know..I've been thinking about a lot of things since then. These past few months I've come to realize that you aren't just a friend (Y/N). At least..not to me." you held his gaze, unsure of what response was right. His knuckles brushed the last of your tears away, and you pulled in a breath at the way his eyelids lowered. He bit his lower lip, and you could see he was evaluating something.

"Tadash-"

"Shhh..just let me..I just need to.." he didn't finish his statement, just leaned in. His kiss was so sweet, tender. Just like him. He didn't put too much pressure, or hold you down. They way he held you left so much room for you to move away if you really needed to. That's the last thing you were thinking though. You leaned in, hands gripping the front of his cardigan, tugging him forward. He took the initiative, slipping a hand into your hair as he continued to kiss you. The sound of a camera clicking is what made you pull apart. You both separated, and Hiro was standing behind the wall with his phone. He smirked. "Took you guys long enough. I hope you brought a lot of gummies, I should be given a medal honestly. " Tadashi glared, and it dawned on you that he must have set this whole thing up.

"When I get my hands on you!!" Hiro was running out the door laughing, and you could tell Tadashi wanted to go after him, but you took his arm, and he halted.

"I..I love you Tadashi. I always have." It took so many years to finally admit it, but when he smiled, and raised you off the floor, wrapping his hand around your waist, you could have melted on the spot.

"I love you too (Y/N). So much.'' you grinned, pulling him in for another kiss which he returned happily.

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

Anatomy Lessons

Anonymous said: How about: "and then I'll indulge your curiosity all night long" with Geralt and a herbalist he met whilst preparing his potions for a contract. Said herbalist had only heard about a witcher's stamina but did never have the pleasure of encountering a witcher herself. Or Geralt's first time? I feel like I only ever hear about him being so good in bed, but being subjected to the trials as a child, he must have lost his virginity after he had become a witcher. How would his first time be like?

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warning(s): not edited, possibly several grammar mistakes; virgin!Geralt, experienced! reader, fingering, riding, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 3k

“I’m curious about the strength of a witcher,” you say, your curiosity purely innocent. Your scientific brain never stops wondering, never ceases to be curious about anything and everything.

Geralt stops walking beside you and gives you his classic flirty smirk. “I can indulge your curiosity all night long, if you’d like.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. When Geralt completed his Witcher Trials, your were assigned to him as his personal herbalist. You were meant to watch over him for his first year of monster hunting and keep him alive, whether that meant stitching up wounds or shoving one of his elixirs down his throat. You’ve already spent two months with him wandering up and down the coast, searching for any town with a monster problem, and in that time you two have gotten close. Not exactly friends, but more than mere traveling companions. Geralt has resorted to practicing most of his pickup lines on you, since you’re the only woman that’s stuck with him for the next nine months. And you’ve allowed it, since you do have a bit of an attraction for the witcher. But he’s never done anything more than flirt.

You jut your chin out at him, a dare. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

He pauses, surprised. Normally you respond to his flirty comments with a laugh or a roll of your eyes. You never indulge him, and you never encourage him. So this response makes him give you a double take. But once he sees that you’re being serious, not just flirting back purely to play along, he pounces. He’s still adjusting to his witcher abilities, so he accidentally moves too fast and tackles you the ground. You grunt in pain as your back collides with the ground. You’re fortunate that you’re in a grassy field and not a rocky mountainside.

Geralt hovers over you, one arm on either side of your head. “Sorry, Y/N. Are you hurt?”

You do your best to refrain from wincing as the pain registers all throughout your back. “It’s fine.”

His hand moves to your back, trying to find the source of the pain. His large arm wrapped around you makes you feel so small as your bodies press together. The silence is suddenly deafening as the air around you grows warm with tension. Both of your gazes travel to each other’s mouths.

“Geralt,” you whisper. It’s an invitation.

He kisses you. Your heart races in your chest at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours, but the kiss is so bad it almost ruins the mood.

You pull back. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

His silence is answer enough, though the redness in his cheeks give it away just as much.

You bring your hand up to his neck, your fingers softly running through the roots of his white hair. “Part your lips and don’t make it so rough. You’re not trying to eat me. Just try it more gently.”

He nods before kissing you again. This time his mouth is open too wide, his entire tongue licking along your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss.

“Close your mouth a little bit,” you say, surprised to hear your breathing growing faint. The taste of him soaks onto your tongue and warms your body.

He listens and tries again. This time the kiss is good. So good it’s addicting. You push your tongue against his lips, a mere kitten lick, and he somehow knows to open his mouth farther for your tongue to move inside. His tongue is stiff and still when you first brush yours against it. You move against him, showing him how to twirl his tongue with your own. The longer you two lie there kissing, the more confident he becomes until he’s pushing his tongue back into your mouth. You reward his good moves with a soft moan. Every time he does something you don’t like, you squeeze his hair in your hand until he relents. A few minutes pass like this, the two of your mouths colliding with heated lust and desperation, and then you feel him begin to grind against you. He’s already fully hard in his pants. You gasp when you feel the full length of his erection grind into your stomach.

He pulls back with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

You just grab his face and pull him back to you, giving him another long kiss before assuring him, “You’re fine, Geralt. I like that I’m turning you on so much. I’ve never seen you this wound up before.”

He buries his head into your neck. You almost laugh. You--a five foot woman with almost no fat on her tiny body, someone who couldn’t even scare a fly away--have made a witcher shy. It’s as adorable as it is arousing. You can feel the quick rhythm of his heart against your clothes, beating outrageously fast for a witcher. Warmth radiates off of him and mixes with your own, making it hard for both of you to breathe.

“Move between my legs,” you tell him in a whisper.

He looks up at you as if checking to see if you’re joking, but when he sees the arousal on your face, he complies. Your legs fall open as his large frame moves between them. You pull his mouth back to yours and kiss him deeply. He lets you take the lead only long enough to memorize the movements of your tongue, and then he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth again and biting at your lips. You bring your hips up to grind against him and you both let out moans as his erection rubs against your core.

Geralt squeezes his eyes shut in bliss. “Fuck, that feels--” But he loses the ability to speak as you grind your hips against him again. He loses control of his body. His lust guides him as he rubs his erection against your core like a dog in heat and your kisses turn into open-mouthed pants and moans.

“Can I touch you... down there?” he asks.

You can taste his breath on your tongue. “If you don’t, I will.”

His hand is between your legs in a flash, his fingers softly skimming up the skin of the inside of your thighs. You release a sigh of pleasure when his hand finally cups your mound.

“I can feel how wet you are,” he gasps, “through your undergarments.”

“I’ll get even wetter if you keep going,” you tell him.

But he doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t do anything but hover over your heat.

“Do you know how to touch a woman?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head and avoids your gaze, biting his lower lip nervously. He has no idea what you want to do to him when you see him bite that lip. It’s so fucking arousing.

You bring your hand down to rest over his and begin to rub it against your heat in slow movements. He catches on quickly and continues the movement even when you pull your hand away. Your eyes fall shut. Somehow, whether by luck of by skill, he has the knowledge to start moving his fingers in a circular motion directly above your clit. You cry out and grind into his hand, needing more pressure, more contact, more everything.

“Is that good?” he asks when he sees you respond to your touch.

All you can do is nod. He continues to please you and in the midst of your pleasure your hands absentmindedly begin to knead your breasts, making the fire inside of you even stronger. You let out a gasp--

And then Geralt’s hand stops, halting the pleasurable waves rolling through you. You open your eyes to find him staring at your hands. His mouth is parted in shock and awe as he takes in the sight of you groping your own breasts. He looks at your body like he’s never seen anything more arousing in his life.

Oh sweet, innocent boy.

“Take my dress off,” you tell him.

His eyes flicker back to yours. “W-what?”

“I would do it,” you admit, “but there’s so many strings, and your witcher strength makes ripping through material so easy.”

He brings his hands up to the front of your dress, hovering over it.

“Rip off my dress, Geralt,” you say. “Rip it off like you’re so desperate to have me that you can’t think straight.”

And he does. Half of you expected him to hesitate further, so when the cotton of your clothes rips apart you gasp. And then you’re under him, your entire body exposed to him. He drinks in the sight of your breasts hungrily. His pupils expand even further as his gaze lowers to your undergarments, the only thing left between you and him. He reaches for them--

“Wait,” you say.

His eyes jump to yours, freezing like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“I want to undress you,” you tell him.

For the first time since you began kissing, he pulls away from you. “You don’t want to do that, Y/N.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”

“Because I have... some scars.”

You almost laugh at how ridiculous his reasoning is. “You think a few scars are going to scare me away?”

“They’re big,” he admits. “And they’re... deep. They’re really...”

“Ugly?” you guess.

He nods.

You push him to the ground and roll on top of him until you’re straddling his waist, his erection pressing tightly against your core. His hands come up to your hips and press you tighter against his bulge. You let him take his pleasure from your body for just a moment before you hover your face above his, your breasts brushing against his clothes, the material making your nipples harden.

“Geralt, there is nothing ugly about you.” The seriousness of your tone forces him to listen to you. “Never has been and, gods be good, there never will be. You have a kind heart and a quick wit. There is. Nothing. Ugly. About. You.” With every word you circle your hips, making both of your bodies scream with simultaneous pleasure and frustration at the amount of clothes between you. “Can I undress you?”

He finally nods. You climb off of him and help him out of his shirt and pants, not stopping to admire the view until he’s completely naked before you. He was right about the scars. Despite being such a young witcher, his arms and legs are already covered in thick gashes. There’s a small swirl of dark hair on his chest and naval, but that’s all you have time to notice before your attention narrows in on his manhood. You’ve been with a few men, but none of them have been witchers. Only witchers and the mages that work with them know what body transformations take place during The Trails, but there’s no way it didn’t affect their manhoods. Geralt has to be at least eight inches. You’ve never seen a cock with such girth and length. The thought of fitting that inside of you makes you so wet you practically whimper.

You move back to straddle his waist but stay up on your knees, letting him rip the last of your clothes off and tossing it to the side. His eyes take a long, hungry look at your pussy. You slowly lower yourself on top of him until his cock rests between your folds. A whimper escapes you when his cock first makes contact with your dripping core and your hips rock back and forth in a slow motion that’s teasing to you both. Geralt’s hands return to your hips, occasionally squeezing your skin when his desire makes him impatient.

“You’re so big, Geralt,” you sigh, continuing to memorize the feeling of him between your folds, the head of his cock occasionally brushing against your clit and making your body tense.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

You open your eyes to look down at him. He’s enjoying this as much as you are, his beautiful mouth parted and his eyes squeezed shut. The muscles of his stomach flex with every movement of your hips. You rest your hands on his abdomen and feel the dark hairs of his stomach twirl between your fingers.

He’s so beautiful, you realize. He’s a goddamn angel. And the blissful look on his face drips with sinful desire, making you feel like a succubus. But now you understand why demons are so intent on tempting men into the darkness--watching them give in to their desires is so intensely alluring. That’s how you feel now as you continue to bring Geralt to the peak of his pleasure: like you’re a passenger to his bliss and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from the beauty of this man falling apart beneath you. You want him to cum, you want to bring him more pleasure than he’s felt in his entire life, you want him to become so enamored with you that nothing--not even his own hand--will ever be able to satisfy him again.

Your hips finally still as you reach down to grab his thick, heavy cock and line it up with your entrance.

“Y/N!” he calls out, panic in his voice.

You freeze. Is he choosing now to change his mind about this? “Yes?”

“I’ve never, um...” His grip on your hips loosens and tightens as he struggles to find words. “I’ve never done this.”

“Yes, we’ve established that,” you agree.

He gives you a look that says do I really have to spell it out? “I don’t know how long I can, um... I might not last...”

You smirk at him, finally understanding what he’s getting at. “I know witchers, Geralt. I know that even if this weren’t your first time, the hypersensitivity of your senses would keep you from lasting more than a minute or two. But I also know that witchers have a great amount of stamina, which means you can cum over and over again. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing to you.”

His eyes widen but he can’t say anything before you sink down onto him. His mouth falls open and his eyes close as the hottest sound you’ve ever heard falls from the back of his throat. Your walls are tight around him. Your insides burn as you continue to lower yourself onto his shaft, forcing your walls to adjust to him and fight through the pain. He continues to moan and cry out the further he moves inside of you. The sight of him so wound up beneath you makes your walls clench, growing even tighter around him.

“Y/N!” he calls out just as you fit the rest of him inside of you.

You kiss him deeply, hungrily, and say, “Cum for me, Geralt. I want to feel your seed deep inside of me, coating my walls--”

He reaches his orgasm before you’re even done coaxing his high out of him. His cock pulses a second before his seed spills inside of you, hot and sticky. His body shakes and he squeezes his eyes shut as his mouth falls open in a silent scream. You stay still for a moment to let him catch his breath. But then you start moving on top of him, grinding your hips against him in the same slow rhythm you’d used to tease him earlier. He’s so big and thick that you can feel him touch every inch of you. Your walls pulse around his cock as you increase your pace and begin to ride him with purpose.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he cries out, his hands digging into the small of your back.

You feel so tiny against this large beast of a man, yet so powerful as you coax another orgasm out of him in less than a minute. Feeling him cum inside of you is dangerously addicting. He struggles to focus his gaze on you as you continue to move on top of him, feeling your own orgasm near. Your eyes fall closed as your body begins to tense and relax. You don’t even realize you’ve brought a hand up to squeeze your throat--

Until Geralt replaces it with his own and squeezes tightly enough to cut off your airway. You clutch onto his wrist, never wanting him to let go of you. Your hips move in messy circles on top of him as Geralt’s touch pushes you over the edge. His grip on your throat tightens just a fraction as you cum. It’s enough for you to see stars, for your heart to skip a beat, for your soul to practically leave your body and reach the heavens. Your walls spasm as you milk his cock with everything inside of you. The orgasm is so intense, so mind-numbing, that you collapse on top of him when you come down from your high.

Geralt holds you in his arms, letting you rest against his warm, solid chest. His cock is still deep inside of you. Still, neither one of you move, enjoying the sensations of his cock warming your pussy.

“Is it always like that?” Geralt mumbles after a long minute of comfortable silence.

You smile against his chest. “Not always. Never, in fact. Only if you’re lucky do you get to experience something like that.”

“Then mark me the luckiest man in the world.” You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms something inside of you.

“We should probably get to town,” you suggest. “I need to replace the clothes you just ruined.”

“Mmm... five more minutes,” he says.

“The sooner I get new clothes the sooner we can find an inn for the night and fuck in a very comfortable bed,” you point out.

You swear you’ve never seen your witcher move faster.

***

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1K notes · View notes

kitsunesakii · 3 years

Text

I don't bite - part one

I walked down the street, my hands in my pockets and my headphones on. It was well past midnight and the moon was at its peak. I fiddled with the placement of my headphones resting against my ears, having just got off the bus they were jostled out of position. Normally I didn't ride the bus, instead flying over the city. But, my mission's house was a little past my favorite park, and I had time on my hands. Shoving my hands in my pocket I heaved a sigh. I wasn't really fond of my mission. I hated biting if there wasn't consent. And there wouldn't be in this instance. I dragged my feet, skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk like a child.

I arrived at his apartment complex a little after one. But I knew he wouldn't be home, it was Saturday, and every Saturday he wasn't home until around three. Hence the headphones. I sat down at the bus stop, he wouldn't be arriving from the bus, amusingly he walked home from wherever he left. But I didn't plan to stand for a whole hour. So sitting down, I waited.

My eyes met movement, and I felt him come up. I sucked in a breath, I can do this, I can do this. I got up and nonchalantly walked behind him. The tap on my shoulder is what made me whip around, my headphones clattering to the ground. Making my mission turn as well.

"Hey sweetheart, didn't mean to scare ya, just wanted to ask why you were out here all alone? "

I stared at him kind of dumbfoundedly, he was clearly homeless, and by the smell wafting off of him I would say he was drunk.

"Who said she's alone? " the voice was small but firm, as my mission, a guy who's name I wasn't given, walked up besides me, I stilled. both his hands in his pockets. "I told you to keep up, " he handed me my headphones "you know you slow down when wearing these" he made a disappointed frown.

I looked from him, to the homeless man, then back to him. My brain slowly catching on to what he was doing. He's protecting me, a stranger I forced out a laugh, "haha, gosh I was falling behind, sorry bout that! " I gave him a smile, weary to keep my mouth shut. The homeless man looked at us for a moment, before turning and walking away. Leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

I turned to fully face the guy. In pictures I had always thought he would be taller, instead, he was only a half an inch taller than me. "Thank you" I sputtered, my brain still catching up to the events that had just transpired. He just stared at me, his face resting in a rather relaxed posture. Neither frowning or smiling.

"I noticed you were behind me, do you also live in that apartment complex? " his voice was low, like the gentle hum of a cat. His eyes locked with mine, they were a tainted blue with gold lining. This is your chance, no ones around. I clenched my headphones, my mind spinning a million miles a minute.

"Ah- no, I don't"

"Oh, " he responded cooley, "well, then, lead the way" it was probably rude to just stare at the boy that basically saved me from someone, but my mouth wouldn't work and my hands were hurting from the plastic rim of the headphones biting into my fingers.

I gave him a quick smile before forcing my legs forward. Walking aimlessly. He walked beside me quietly, glancing at me every couple minutes. After a while we hit a cafe, and I walked up to the door, once again turning to face my mission. "Thank you,this is my stop, may I ask you your name? "

"Matthew" he stated.

"Well then, thank you Matthew" I gave him another small smile. He nodded, his eyes flickering up and down me before he simply walked away. I watched him, my heart beat rapidly increasing with every second. You could still finish your mission, it would be quick, painless I took in another breath. I couldn't do it. He protected me, looked at me like a person. His eyes, blue golden. I felt a small dash of heat nest itself on my cheeks. The anger came second. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't go back empty handed, could I? I failed, I couldn't kill him. Why did it have to be him. A good person with a lax life. I gritted my teeth, there wasn't anything else to do besides head back home. It wont be home much longer. Leaving the coffee shop I headed back to the bus stop, no longer feeling up to walking.

"What do you mean you couldn't kill him!? " I winced at the tone of voice he used, looking at the wooden floor, unable to make his gaze. The room in question was small, but I felt smaller. It was musty and you breathed smoke with every grab at air. I had spent most of the night into the early hours of the day waiting for him to return. 'Initiation' you could have a home, safety, love and more with a stupid test. I'm an idiot my brain screamed, drilling the words harder then the cutting edge of his own.

"I-"

he grabbed my chin with his long nails, cutting into my skin easily.

"Such a simple task," he growled, "this should of been easy for you, such a waste of energy" this wasn't the first time I had seen him this mad, last week, another lonely vampire seeked refuge with him, and they too couldn't do what was asked. using the hand gripping my chin he yanked me to the floor. I recovered quickly, standing to my feat instantly, taking a small step back. Focusing my attention on his words instead of the burning sensation the cuts caused.

"You can stay here until sunset, but then, consider yourself cut off" he growled, with that he used his other hand to scratch from my cheek to the length of my neck, leaving a scar. I waited until he left my small room before patching myself up.

What was I getting myself into? Hot tears trickled down my face, collecting bits of blood on it's way down. I should of never accepted his offer. Idiot, it was stupid to rely on others. All it did was end in pain. It didn't help that I had insomnia. Stupid night Terrors that left me trembling. He had said he could help. Instead he stepped all over me, and I let him. I wiped away the tears. I was fine, I was able to handle myself before and I could do it again.

I tried to sleep, getting only a few merciful hours before I couldn't stop fidgeting. Thankfully it was a pretty cloudy day, and I didn't own much. Shoving the clothes I did own, and a few other belonging into a bag, I forced myself to leave. Going back to the park, under the shade of a great willow. I breathed in the fresh air, so much better than the musty air of the shady apartment I was forced to stay in. I pulled out my book, enjoying the quiet.

A small shuffle got my attention, I looked up, wincing at the pain the quick movement pierced into my neck. Only to see Matthew sitting besides me, looking up at the sky. He glanced at me, and once again I was peering into his blue gold eyes. Sparkling in the sunlight. I couldn't help but smile, cautiously keeping my fangs out of sight. "Fancy seeing you here" I stated.

His eyes swam, tracinging my scar wordlessly. "Hi" he said flatly, his features neutral. I felt my fingers absentmindedly play with the corner of my book. "Your bleeding"

My hands emediatly grazed my scar, my eyes still locked with his. "Oh, yah, fell-" I muttered, without a moment to process I felt his hand come up and trace the length of the wound. Moving his hand gingerly, his eyes fixated on the scar. I held my breath, his fingers sent ripples that danced over my cheek down to my neck. It was almost soothing, the gentle carressing made my scar itch. I stared at him, his face was like stone, not even paying attention to the surprised expression that was slowly melting from my face, replaced with a tint of scarlet.

"Does it hurt? "

I almost didn't register his words, being he practically whispered them. I caught his wrist, holding it before it left my neck, "no" I whispered back. He opened his mouth, then closed it, removing his hand and shoving them back into his sweater pockets. Then, as if nothing happened, he once again tilted his head towards the sky, and I back down to my book. Some time passed, I felt him look back over to me, quietly watching me read. It was hard to ignore, and after a few minutes I matched his gaze. He looked lost in thought, not even registering that I caught him staring. Instead, he looked trapped in deep conversation with himself.

"Do you come here often? " I asked, ripping him from his thoughts.

"Not really, Do you?" his voice had such a nice hum, almost like an accent.

"Not really, but it's been a rough day and I didn't have anywhere else to go and I quite enjoy reading-" I felt myself start to ramble, and quickly shut up. My sharp loud voice a stark contrast to his. His brow folded slightly, barley making a dent on his neutral expression.

"Did someone- Do you need somewhere to stay?"

"No" yes, I watched him nod before slowly turning his gaze back to the sky. I looked up as well. The clouds were striking. Each had a unique shape and the sun created shadows that bounced on the tips of some and on the body of others, adding to the depth of the cloud cluster. In total it looked like I was staring at a painting, perfectly mastered to fit the atmosphere. Each cluster was like an island, floating in the blue sea, each containing it's own form. I admired the brilliant picture of white on blue, getting lost in it, feeling time slowly slip away. My eyes closed, lost in my own sea, I didn't even hear him leave.

I watched the clouds, the day slowly passing over me, fading into the shadows of dusk. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and adjusted my headphones on my head, choosing a playlist before heading out into the night. I walked the same road I had just yesterday, when an idiot decided to look out for me. I bit my lip, a little too hard. Ah, I stopped, abruptly wiping away the bit of blood with my sleeve. "Just another scar to add to my growing collection" I grumbled into the breeze. I found myself walking up to the same cafe I had seen last night. I decided to go in, since I had no real destination.

Pulling of my headphones and Opening the door I was greeted with the late night song of a coffee shop. in total, there was about 6 people. Not including the barista and myself. There were two girls at a table, looking over a laptop. And a boy flirting with the barista, who wasn't giving him the time of day. Over by the tv was a couch, empty besides a guy with his back to me. And in another table was another girl and boy, talking lightly. I walked over to the couch, listening to the music that echoed quietly throughout the room. The couch was awfully comfortable, like a warm hug it beckoned me into the soft safety it had to offer. I closed my eyes, hugging my backpack to my chest as I let myself drowned in the beconing noises of the coffee shop.

My brain sank into the small specks of sleep, pulling me just enough to be jolted awake. Mently cursing at pain it caused in my stomach. I adjusted to the striking colors surrounding me, rubbing the last flecks of sleep out of me. I was me with a pair of eyes, blue with gold lining. "Hi" I gasped, still recovering from the violent awaking.

He stared at me a moment, and I got the feeling he had been staring before. I straitened in the cushions, fighting against the stiffness of my body. Sleeping in a sitting position wasn't in the least bit comfortable. "How long you been there" I joked, trying again to shift myself into a more polite position.

"Are you sure you don't need a place to stay? " his voice carried the same low hum as before, but I noticed the concern. Feeling the tips of my cheeks get red. I did need a place to stay.... But I had no money whatsoever, except for a few bucks for the bus. I looked down, why was he being so annoyingly nice??

"I-im" for the first time, I truly didn't know what to say, he was being so calm, it was driving me mad.

Without warning, he stood up picking up a coffee that I hadn't noticed before. "Follow me" he said

We walked out of the coffee shop and into his apartment complex, I fidgeted with the handle of my backpack, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. A million excuses flooding my thoughts. We entered an apartment room, well, more like two room, one small and one large. The kitchen seeped into a nice living room, equipped with a cute couch and coffee table. A little to the left was a separate room that I could only assume was the bedroom. There was a tv on the wall, and a couple shelves to the side, adding a touch of comfort. As I looked around, he walked into the kitchen and placed his coffee on the counter.

"The couch folds into a bed, and I have spare blankets, oh-" he walked over to a cupboard and pulled out some medical supplies. Quickly walking over to me, "here, sit" without process I stumbled into the couch, barely catching myself, bracing into the fluff of the fabric.

"What-" before I could finish my thought my breath hitched as his hand cupped my chin, gently tilting my head, looking at my scar. He glanced at his supplies, picking up a Q tip and dipping it in a thickly coated gel. He put it on my scar, I gasped, the gel felt cold against my skin. He pulled back, his eyes widening

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, you just startled me, that's all" I gave him a reassuring smile. After a hint of hesitation he carefully glided the Q tip on the length of my scar, only stopping to add more gel. His fingers pressed lightly on my cheek, being carful to not be rough. His gaze set on my scar, his eyes shining in the light on the ceiling. "So pretty" I mumbled, blinking at the fact that I said that aloud. His eyes flickered to mine and I emediatly went beet red. A small smirk rested on his face.

"Thank you" he mumbled back, his face a light shade of red. He finished quickly, and soon he just sat there, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Not bringing himself to move away, his face back to its same stone look. I yawned, it had been a while since I had gotten even a few hours of sleep, and I was weak. He caught on emediatly and let go, muttering something about blankets while he headed off into his room.

I rubbed my eyes, setting my backpack down on the floor next to the couch. He came back and opened the couch, creating a cozy looking bed, a perfect fit for me. He placed down the pillow and blanket, and wordlessly I climbed into it. Letting my body relax, barley feeling the blanket being pulled up over my shoulders, or the lights being turned off.

No, no no no, I wimpered, the shadow looming over me. "Your dreaming, wake up" the shadow took a step towards me, I let out a low wine, unable to back up, "your dreaming, it's ok, I got you, it's ok"

I felt a tight gripped hand pull me against something, ripping me almost completely out of my nightmare. My eyes still closed, I bared my teeth at the shadow. I tried to pull my legs up to my head, trying to cower from it. My stomach tightening in knots. Something gripped me close, I felt breath on my ear. "Hay hay, it's alright, nothing can hurt you, your safe, your safe." I felt my body relax, the voice louder than the shadow. I let the invisible thing pull me closer, laying my head on something rhythmic. Slowly sending me back to sleep, my eyes still closed, I felt somthing brush against the top of my head, already to far asleep to notice.

When I woke up it must of been early because the sun was still well behind the horizon. I sat up, yawning and baring my teeth. There was a clatter in the kitchen, I looked around, the lights were off, but there was Matthew, cooking something over the stove. The smell wafting over. I couldn't help but smile, I didn't know why, but I had slept through the entire night without waking, and I felt very relaxed. I stood up, careful not to disturb Matthew, who was deep in thought. I walked over, leaning against the island and just staring. He was smiling. It was quite a sight, making his eyes shine even more. I wondered what he was smiling about, what was causing his face to show such emotion. I looked over his shoulder, in a pan was two eggs. They crackled and popped.

"Good morning," I said finally, unable to keep myself quiet. He look over and his smile faded slightly, going back to its stone look. But the light in his eyes only got bigger. "Oh please, don't stop smiling for me" I teased, watching his face go bright red.

"Good morning" he said back, watching my movements closely. "Did you sleep good?"

"Yes actually! I sleep wonderful, your couch is super comfortable" I said, his eyes searched mine, as if looking for a clue. I cocked my head to the side, giving a playful frown to his reaction. "Everything ok?" I asked, the tense silence growing too much for me.

His features relaxed, "yah, just making sure" he said, turning his attention back to the pan of eggs. After a moment he skillfully slid them on two separate plates and handed a plate to me. Opening a drawer and pulling out two forks. We sat down over at a small table that bordered the kitchen. It was in front of a window, outside I could see the sun peeking out. I shuffled nervously, taking a bite of my eggs.

"These are really good" I said, my mouth full of egg. His blue gold eyes brighteded, and he glanced at the window, noticing the rising sun. Then, he stood up and pulled the shutters closed, making sure no light got in before proceeding to continue making work on his eggs. Without any words said. My brow folded, confusion and slight paranoia lapping at my senses.

"What was that about?" I asked innocently, my eyes narrowing.

"He looked at me a moment, his fork still fiddling with his breakfast. "The sun is too bright in the morning" he said flatly, averting his eyes.

"Ok...."

We went back to eating in silence, after I was done, and noticed he was also done. I stood and took his plate, quick enough so that he didn't have the chance to argue. "Thank you for breakfast" I said again, placing the two plates in the dishwasher. "And... Thank you for letting me stay the night, but..." I made myself state what had been bugging me for the past few minutes. "I don't have enough money to pay you for your hospitality. I don't want to invade on your privacy, and you probably don't want someone like me hanging around your apartment and-" I was cut short in my rambling by the small smirk that was slowly growing on his face. I had expected him to be disappointed, maybe even mad. But he looked, amused. "What? Why are you smiling" I said, embarrassment flickering in my words.

"I wasn't expecting payment. I enjoy the company." He explained, trying but failing at forcing his smirk off his face. "You can stay as long as you want" he finished. Standing to his feet he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a spare key, handing it to me. "Just make sure to lock up before you leave" he hummed, his voice back to its low sing song like melody. Leaving me flabbergasted.

I cleaned up the couch, folding it back to a sitting position and placing the blanket and pillow on it neatly. When I finished I sat down, he had left shortly after our conversation. Mumbling something about work. He had tossed me the remote before leaving. I skipped through the channels, the news wasn't ever really interesting, it was all the same now. Talk about the politics of vampires and humans, vampire rights and freedoms. Stupid. Ten years now, people have lived with them peacefully. The news was grasping at strings. Still, it was better than nothing, and I settled for a channel on cooking. It wasn't long before I got fidgety, and had to pace around the room for a while. It was too bright to risk going outside, so I opened the fridge to drink something instead. There wasn't much, but orange juice sounded good, so I drank that. Slowly but surely, as the day carried on, the sun started to settle behind the horizon, kissing the mountain tops.

I fiddled with my headphones, when the door opened and in he came. "Hay!" I shouted, giving him a closed lipped grin.

"Hi" he breathed back, clearly exasperated from whatever he was getting back from. He made a beeline to his room, closing it behind him. It didn't take long before he had came back out in a new more comfortable outfit. His hands in his pockets. "Are you hungry, I know a really good place over a ways" he asked, his blue gold eyes locking with mine.

"Yes! I would love that!" Jumping off the couch giddily, I needed to get out into the fresh air. We walked out of the apartment and into the night air, softly lit with the last remaining glow the sun had to offer. There was a slight breeze, and the trees danced to its rhythm. I smiled, unable to contain the happiness stirring inside of me. Like any vampire, I absolutely loved the nighttime. The shadows that played in the corners of your vision, mixed with the hum of others basking in the night air. Bats gliding gracefully in the air, silent as the darkness around them. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I caught Matthew staring at me. His eyes full of awestruck wonder.

We made our way over to a cute little restaurant and ordered food, sitting in the outside seats. Per his request.

"How was work?" I asked, nibbling On the sandwich placed in front of me.

"It was fine"

We ate quietly, silently enjoying each other's presence. When I finished, I closed my eyes. A gust of wind crashing into me, it felt amazing. And I itched to be up in the sky, feeling the rush of the flight. The high it gave. I opened my eyes, his soft gaze peiring into mine.

"Your so beautiful when you get lost in thought"

His abrupt complement left me red and speechless, "ah," I averted my eyes, my gaze faultering towards the floor. "Thanks" I mumbled, unable to meet his blue gold eyes. My stomach stirred with the same weird feeling I felt the day before. We walked home, too flustered to speak. I noticed him watching me in the corner of my eye, his face in its calm stone stare. I could get used to that, I pondered to myself.

We got home and I once again got ready for bed, this time entering the bathroom and changing into pj's. I layed back down into the comfy blankets and drifted into sleep, the events of the day still lingering in my thoughts.

@vigilantetendencies

#vampire #romance #writing snippet #long reads

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djarinsidebitch · 4 years

Text

Against the Wall is the Best therapy

A/N: repost from old blog

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: oral Fand M receiving, unprotected sex, degrading words, hate sex??

You are a Jedi general in the Grand Army of the republic, You work alongside jedi masters and knights like Obi wan Kenobi, Plo koon, Anakin Skywalker and his padawan Ahsoka Tano. You worked mostly with Obi wan kenobi and the 212th attack Battalion. But in relation works with the 501st and General Skywalker. You where at the temple when you learned about the assassination of Obi Wan Kenobi it hurt you to know someone you saw as a close friend and father figer is dead; just like that he is gone. At the funeral you stood in the stands watching as he becomes one with the force but glancing over you see Anakin the pain and anger that washed over his face was concerning to watch. But you didn't question it not knowing the pain it is to lose a master you felt compassion na dpitty to the jedi knight. Days after the funeral you tried to be there for both Anakin and Ahsoka also knowing that the young padawan was clone to the now fallen jedi master you connected easily to the togruta padawan but her master was another deal he wouldn't let you get even a single word in before finding an excuse to leave or he would completely ignore you. “Anakin please I just want to help the pain you are holding to yourself will only get worse. You haven't talked to anyone since it happened” You pleaded once more to the Jedi knight. “I don't need your help, and would appreciate it if you would just leave me alone, you have no idea what it feels like to know you could do something about it” he says harshly leaning down to your level point an accusatory finger in your face. You sighed, losing hope in him and took a few steps back holding your hands together under the sleeves of your Jedi robe nodding “If that is what you want, but if you change your mind you know where to find me” You say softly looking towards the ground while walking away. Behind you Anakin watches you retreating form with saddened eyes. He knew he was too harsh but all he could feel was anger and the need for vengeance. Ahsoka comes into view causing Anakin's face to harden once again “Master we found the bounty hunter that killed Master Kenobi”; That was the best thing he has heard ever since obi wan died. After Anakin and Ahsoka had caught the bounty hunter and took them to the Prison on Coruscant The two went back to the jedi temple Ahsoka was worried for her master; She could feel the anger radiating still off of him the tension was uncomfortable but she stayed silent on the ride back to the temple. The moment the speeder landed Anakin jumped out and rushed into the temple “Who knows where he is going” Ahsoka mutters.

You were meditating in your room at the Jedi temple when you felt a wave of anger hit you then pounding on your door. Before you can get to the door it is force open by the force and a very angry and frustrated Anakin Skywalker walks through being the center for the dark energy. “Anakin what are you doing-” you try to ask but are cut off by anakin grabbing you by the lapels of your jedi robes and shoving you hard against the wall of your quarters, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as you slam against the ferrocrete. You look up into his eyes they are full of anger and hate “I changed my mind” He growls her face scrunched up in anger. “I want your help-” he pauses moving one of his hands to your neck using that to hold you up while his other gloved hand moves to under your jedi tunic running down and around the tops of your breast “But in a different way” his eyes go from your chest up to your face. The realization of his words dawn on you; your eyes widening. You start sputtering fragments of words “I-... we can-t it's against the code?” you say but he growls in response “Forget the code; the council all of it” he says angrily and with a deep hsuk to it where you can feel it vibrate through the force. He adjusts the hold on you bringing your thighs to wrap around his trim waist, he steps closer pressing the rest of your body against the wall he used the force to unclip the belt around your waist that kept all your robes together once the belt hit the ground the layers of clothing that covered your form started sagging only thread and buttons kept them together and anakin quickly reaches down and rips the clothes open exposing your breast to the chill air. You almost look mortified looking down at your exposed breasts Anakin smirks his hand coming up to grasp and squeeze one, the feeling forced a squeal out of you he leans down growling into your ear “Do you like that princess” he asks continuing to knead your chest he starts playing with your nipple extracting a whimper out of you; he drops his head down wrapping his mouth around your other breast. Moans start falling from your mouth all these sensations are new and foreign to you but they felt so good. You feel a warmness pool in your lower abdomen and a wetness between your thighs; it must have also felt good to anakin as you feel something grow between your thighs pressing against you core without thinking you start rolling your hips grinding against anakin the groans against your nipple biting down on the soft flesh sending vibrations through your body and causing you to yelp. not long after he releases your breast from his mouth and grabs hold of your hips stealing them from their movements ``I wouldn't do that if i were you princess” he says slowly.

He steps away from the wall carrying you to your small bed in your quarters. He drops you on the bed hard enough to make you bounce as he then move to take off hi belt and his tunic; you couldn't keep your eyes off of him in his abs and muscles covered in scars and wounds making you move to reach up moving to your knees running your hands up and down the expanse of his chest fingers nimbly tracing each scar and bump he has. Your fingers start tracing down the V that goes down below the line of his pants once you reach the waist band he grabs your wrist roughly “Your not in charge here princess” he says and grabs your upper arms lifting you as you were nothing and spinning around placing you on your knees in front of him he sits down on the foot of your bed and leans back motioning to the clean tent in his pants like a non verbal order. Uncertain you nimbly reach up to pull down his trousers his erection springs out slapping his stomach your eyes widen it was not what you expected it was long, and thick beads of pre cum leak from the top, softly you reach up grapsinghi member in your hand he runs a hand through your hair and leads your head to his dick “Come on princess” he says smirking you look up at him while taking the head into your mouth, hi head drops backwards is a groan and you move your head down farther taking more of him into your mouth you suck on him and he grains louder “ Ah! just like that love just.. Like.. that” he says gripping your hair and starts moving your head up and down his length his fingers threaded through your hair. You hollow your cheeks getting the hang of what makes him moand louder, he mov es to grab hold of your face and thrusts himself faster fucking your face the tip of his head hits the back of your throat causing you to gag he doesnt let up moving faster and grunts more and more “fuck sweetheart your such a natural” he smirks looking down at you “Your taking me so.. Mmmhm fuck, so well” he groans biting his lip, his words send a new wave of wetness to your core you have probably already soaked through your underwear.your hand trails down you tour own pants dipping under thw waist band and into your underwear running a finger through your soaked folds you let out a small moan causing anakin to open his eyes and look down at you anger flashes onto his fae as he yanks you up “Did I say you can touch yourself princess” he growls with a wicked grin on his face. You don't say anything causing him to pull on your hair “I asked you a question sweet thing” he says deeply “No.” “No what?” “No Master please”you plead out “What do you need sweetheart? His other hand comes up to grip your neck causing you to mew in response'' I need you to touch me please master” with his head tilted back slightly he looks down on you menacingly. Anakin lets go of your hair and trails a hand down the side of your curves and between your thighs ``Do You want me to touch you here” he whispers into your ear “Your so wet already i have barely touched you; seems was both needed this'' you nod mewling in the process he picks you up switching spots with him nad laying you the you back on the edge of the bed while he kneels between your legs he reaches and grabs the waistband of your pants yanking them down once the are off you subconsciously close your legs but he stops you and pins yu knees open with the force “I didn't tell you to do that sweetheart, you don't listen well don't you” he says making eye contact with you from between your legs.

He leans in kissing your inner thighs, biting and sucking on the flesh leaving marks all along the inside leading to your core. He licks a stripe up your core and you moan out softly anakin start to eat you out licking stripes through your folds then moving to seal his lips around your clit sucking on it, a pressure starts building once again in your lower abdomen “Anakin…” you say breathlessly hands gripping the thin fabric you called sheets that the temple gave you. He smirks looking up at you as you fell apart, You felt the ball of tension start to almost break but anakin pulls away making you whine “Not yet sweetheart, not yet” he says lowly and moving you farther up on the bed as he climbs up pushing you by your knees. He settles himself between your legs

He looks up at you before proceeding you nod whimpering with need. After that he smiled wickedly grippin the backs of your thighs pushing them back towards your chest and slamming into you. You moan out loudly, the pain of him entering you so quickly makes you squirm but he keeps you still holding you down then the pain fizzles into pleasure which makes you to continue to moan loudly in time with his thrusts you are cut off by one of his hands coming up gripping your neck cutting off the noise to a squeak “We don't want people to know what we are doing…. Now do we princess”leaning down to whisper in your ear as he slowly grinds into you “I asked you. A question” he grunts punctioning his words with deep thrust making you squeal once again “Yes Master” you choke out softly. He smiles and continues his brutal pace the sounds were wet and almost obscene as you also tried so hard to hold back your moans biting your lip so hard that it almost breaks skin; it felt so good but so wrong you and him were breaking one of the most important rules in the jedi order, that of attachments. Anakin's hand moves from your neck down to your hips he grips them tightly you can already tell there are going to be bruises later; he lifts you off the bed and against his chest as he spears into you you can feel him slam up inside you the ball of tension deep in your stomach it feels as if it is going to burst “you are close aren't you; i can feel you getting tighter so so tight” he grunts through clenched teeth. You can feel him throbbing with each thrust; and you were teetering on the edge and after a few deep thrust from anakin the ball snaps and your entire vision goes white with pleasure and you cant help the loud moan that escapes your mouth as you clench around anakin which caused his orgasm and he pushes himself to the hilt cumming deep inside of you he groans out in a broken moan running his hands up and down your sides and leans down kissing and sucking little bruises into your skin as both of your chest heave with sweat glistening on your bodies. “This really helped princess, maybe I need more of your guidance” he says softly pulling away from your neck; you were too far spent and just softly nods he chuckled lowly laying you down while looking around for a towel to clean you up with. He gets up disappearing into the refresher and comes out with a small simple towel and wipes you down then climbs in bed pressing his chest to your back burying his head into your neck. Using the force he pulls the blankets over the two of you and the two of you fall into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning you wake up and to your surprise a large warm body was still pressed against you with his arms draped around your middle sleeping soundly…. Until the beeping coming for month of your communications started going off, pushing yourself up you wobble as fast as your sore legs could let your grabbing the brace that held the communication and activated it “Yes what is it” You say trying not to sound like you just woke up “there has been a prison break, three inmates have escaped… including Master Obi Wan's killer; You, Young Skywalker and Padawan Tano will go after them” It was Master Mace Windu “Yes Master we will get right on it; thank you master” you discontent the transmission and turn to the sleeping jedi in your bed and crawl back into the bed and onto anakin straddling him she wakes up slowly opening his eyes “This is a sight i can wake up to princess” you rolls your eyes “Later SkyDoofus We have a mission, Raco Hardeen and two other inmates have escaped us and ahsoka have been tasked to catch him” you say and anakin's face flashes to one of anger “Of course; well let's go” he grabs your waist and picks you up while getting up the places you on the bed while he gets dressed. You watch as he pulls on his robes that were discarded the night before, you mind starts wandering to the events of last knight when a wad of clothes are thrown at your face “Something on your mind princes” he says coyly already knowing what you were thinking “Nope” you quip back and start putting on your own robes and armor before the both of you leave to meet with ahsoka you mind stuck on anakin memories of last night flashing through your mind hoping that he will need your consoling soon for both of your sake.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin fanfiction #star wars x you #Star Wars x reader #Star Wars smut

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lepus-arcticus · 4 years

Text

43.

He studies the artefact of her voice on his machine, cataloguing each inflection, mentally charting each subtle flux of her pitch. He replays her empty missive over and over, hunting for distress signals, visualizing the choreography of her lips and teeth and tongue as they conspire to lie to him. Her apartment is empty, her cell phone turned off.

He can’t help but conjure impressions of her in distress; the barrel of a gun shoved into her warm, yielding temple, her slim, vein-mapped wrists rubbed raw, bleeding into knotted jute. He pores over emails signed with her name, finding no trace of her mellow cadence.

He sweats and he paces, his skin feels too tight. It’s happening all over again. It’s Duane Barry howling at the peak of Skyland Mountain, the lung-scraping cold of Antarctica ice.

The Scully he knows is not prone to fantasy. She is not easily manipulated. She does not play games, even when fate seems bent on maneuvering her like a queen on a chessboard. The Scully he knows is scrappy and canny and proud, and that’s what makes it all the worse.

All she has to show for her foolishness is a clutch of vacant wood-paneled offices and a blank CD. Disgust and devastation and relief gnash fiercely at each other within his chest. He can barely stand to look at her.

“I took an oath,” she pleads, pacing the shadowy perimeter of his apartment, the fray of her opium-poppy hair tangling with lamplight. Her mouth is set in a femme fatale snarl, her voice is low and thick. Mulder leans against the door frame, avoiding her eyes, knowing that the righteous blaze he’ll encounter there will burn him all the way down.

“It was my responsibility as a physician,” she continues. “If there was even the slightest possibility—”

Her hand comes to her forehead, like she’s had a revelation. “You know what? Fuck you, Mulder. I don’t need to explain myself.”

She turns on her heel and stalks to the door, yanking it open, sloshing light into the room.

A full-body swell of possessive wrath propels Mulder forward, and he lunges for her, clamps a hand around her wrist. He wrenches her back to him and slams the door closed, backing her up against it, pinning her captured hand to the wood beside her head. His pulse drones in his ears. He still can’t meet her eyes, but the defiant set of her jaw makes him ache to claim her, makes him so angry that for a moment, he thinks he might break down and cry, the way little boys rage in the face of playground injustice.

He crowds himself into her space, determined to bully her into submission, ducking his head to feel her quickening breath mingle with his. The tendons of her wrist flex under his palm. Her small, impertinent breasts rise and fall against his chest. “Mul—”

“Shut up.”

Kissing her isn’t fair, he knows, so he does it harder and better than ever before, gripping her jaw with his free hand, invading her mouth with arrogant, calculating lust.

See why you need me, Scully? He transmits the thought to her, rutting his growing erection against her belly while he kisses her senseless, secure in the knowledge that she likes him like this, that it gets her hot when he’s cruel and hard and selfish.

At least he has this. At least he knows that even at their worst, their most discordant, her body will listen to his, absorbing everything he hurls at it.

Scully knows it too, and she rips herself out of his grip with a frustrated gasp. She manages two frantic paces before he catches her from behind, an arm locked across her ribs, the other hand fumbling with the button at her fly.

“You gonna do to me what you did after Ed?” She pants, clawing at his forearm.

He nips her ear in retaliation. “Depends. You gonna ask me to stop this time?”

She struggles against him, but he can tell it’s not her best effort. He manages the button, gets her zipper down—

“He drugged me,” she says.

The oxygen leaves the room.

“The smoking man. He drugged me, undressed me while I was unconscious. Took my bra off. My panties. Probably did it nice and slow.”

Mulder loosens his hold, releasing her slowly, choking on a flood of horror and bile.

Scully turns to face him, and he finally musters the courage to meet her eyes, finding something like victory in their dark, acidic blue. “He made me wear this… this tight, tiny black dress. He stared at my tits with his mouth watering. He stank, Mulder. I had to breathe through my mouth.”

“Scully. Scully, what are you telling me?”

She stares him down, a hook at the corner of her mouth. “I would have done anything, you know. If he’d asked it of me.” “But... he didn’t,” Mulder says carefully, searching her face for confirmation. “And you… you wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” she hisses back at him. “One night for the cure to all human disease? One night? How would it be any worse, any different, than what he’s done to my body already? He gave me cancer! Or did you forget? He controls this goddamned chip in my neck! He--he made children from me, Mulder, he stole my ova and used them to breed sick, doomed babies, my babies, babies I’ll never hold, never know, never get to say goodbye to. Seriously, what do you think the chances are that Emily was the only one? How many more do you think are out there?”

“Scully, stop it.”

“Might as well make the most of it, right? I would have let him use me in any way he wanted if it meant that I could save just one person—”

“—But it was a lie, Scully, a lie like all of his other lies! You would have thrown away your—”

“—It’s just a body, for Christ’s sake,” she snarls, and as if to demonstrate, she starts to strip, tearing impatiently at herself. “It’s meat and bone and—and, and tendon, and nerve. That’s it. That’s all it is. Look at it,” she says, throwing her shirt to the floor, tossing her arms up. “It’s nothing!” Her belly is muscular, pale, bullet-scarred. Her hip bones rise from her waistband like a challenge.

It’s not nothing. It’s his altar. It’s his mania, his confessional, his asylum.

His.

“He did this to get to me.” He knows it’s the wrong thing to say before it leaves his mouth, knows it sounds pathetic, knows he’s really pissed her off, even before the colour rises in her cheeks and her lips spring open to reveal her sharp little teeth.

“I’m not an extension of you, Mulder. You don’t own me.”

All the worst parts of him conspire to decide that it’s a challenge.

He crosses the fissure of energy and space that separates them, once again laying claim to her furious lips, swallowing her cry of objection. The neglected dining room table is only a few feet behind her, and he backs her up until there’s a clatter of resistance. He reaches blindly, shoving mail, newspapers, a stack of files to the floor, where they scatter like dead leaves in an autumn storm.

He knows she can’t hold out forever, and he’s right—and when he feels her soften and submit, when she goes slack and puts her arms around him and moans into his mouth, a dark whim like a restless spirit possesses him, body and soul.

He breaks his kiss and jerks her around, halving her over the table. Unclips her bra, pulls it from beneath her to fling across the room, scrapes his nails down her back. If the splintery, weathered thrift store wood is chafing her cheek, abrading her sensitive nipples, all the better.

One hand between her shoulder blades keeps her pinned, and he uses the other to rip her trousers and panties over her firm, sweet ass. He’s so hard now that he can feel every ridge and vein of his cock straining against his jeans, pulsing angrily, demanding attention. He wants to punish her, wants to make her beg. He wants to make her come so hard that she’ll never think of leaving him again.

His hand flies through the air. The resounding crack as it meets her ass is so, so good, just as good as her anguished yelp, her following whimper. The victimized patch of her skin pinks up, and he strokes it tenderly, making soothing sounds in the back of his throat.

Scully stretches her arms forward to grip the edge of the table. He wishes he was wearing a tie, so that he could rip it off and bind her wrists with it, spread her out and tie her to the table leg and leave her trembling and begging and cursing him out while he puts his feet up beside her face and finishes off a beer. He could do it with his belt, he supposes, but he’s a selfish, selfish man, and more than anything, he wants to fuck her.

He smacks her harder.

While she’s vocalizing her approval, he dips his fingers lower to slick through her hot, slippery pussy. He groans, then brings his hand up and wipes his fingers on her cheek, catching the corner of her mouth. “Wet,” he accuses her hoarsely.

Her eyelashes flicker, and she nods her confession.

She stays still while he frees himself from his jeans, his socks, his shirt. His cock bobs against her ass and his balls flex tight up to his shaft, but he wants to see her face, wants to make her look at him while he fucks himself back into her.

He hauls her off the table by her hips and turns her around. She’s ragdoll compliant, letting him strip her pants all the way off and lift her back up so that she’s sitting on the edge, facing him, her thighs spread wide and her plump, pretty, glistening cunt on display.

Simmering with greed, he sidles up close, his cock brushing the seam of her labia. She wraps her legs around him and crosses her ankles at his back, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn’t move an inch, his swollen, pulsing head just barely touching her, just barely grazing the peak of her clitoris. She’s wet and she’s hot and every nerve in his body is screaming at him to fuck, fuck, fuck, but he’s got a point to make, and goddamnit, he’s going to get it through to her.

He gathers a fistful of her hair and forces her head back, leaning over her, planting his other hand on the table behind her for balance. He locks her into his eyes.

“You’ll never go with him again,” he commands. “Never.” He pushes forward and slides the underside of his dick through her folds, grinding hard against her clit, because if he can just make her need him enough, surely he’ll never have to feel the soul-sickening panic of her absence again.

“I’ll do whatever I want,” she retorts, articulating every word, her chin jutting proudly, her pupils a black and dangerous chasm.

He tightens his fist in her hair and stabs himself into her.

The sound that rips up from her chest is short and shrill, and god, even her pussy feels defiant, strong and grippy and tight as hell. He fucks her in brutal, relentless strokes, punishing her, pleading with her. His eyes burn with unshed tears of humiliating rage as he reclaims her body, this perfect and inviolable body that she chooses again and again to share with him.

It’s not long before he forces an orgasm from her, steals it from her, biting her neck while she writhes and cries out for her god, to witness it, maybe, or to save her sinner’s soul. And while she’s calling on heaven, he falls harder than Lucifer, jerking and spilling inside of her, pumping her so full that at least for a short while, she can’t possibly claim to be only herself.

And then it’s done.

The world rights itself. The hush of traffic returns, the tick of his antique mantle clock.

She wraps her arms around him in silent forgiveness, and then he really does start to cry, hard and hopelessly, because how could he ever truly hope to keep her safe?

Incrementum

#incrementum #txf fic #txf fanfiction

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