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mismatched-sockss · 15 days

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By your side

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader » Word count: 2,6k » Warnings: fluff with some angst, established relationship, mentions of reader wearing jewellery (necklace) and make up, pet names (honey, baby) » A/N: no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

Being in a relationship with an FBI agent - especially one working in the BAU - meant, dreading each phone call or text they got when they were off the clock and the both of you were spending time together. But it also meant, dreading each phone call you got, when they were out of town and / or state working on a case. The small heart attack you suffered every time the phone rang, the fear of hearing something happened or that they wouldn't be coming home... You prayed to who ever was listening, that you would never get the latter.

Sometimes, it meant dreading to get a call from them before they even had the chance to see you.

Your hands were still holding the clasp of your necklace between your fingers, just about to close it, when your cellphone rang. The screen lit up and for a second you closed your eyes, not quiet ready to confirm who it was.

For a second you wished the caller would be anyone else but - hell, you would even prefer it if it was your mother, who you had not spoken to in almost ten years.

A sigh left your lips when you opened your eyes and looked at the screen: Spence❤️

Well, looked like your evening plans would change.

You lowered your hands, still holding your necklace and placed it back on to the small glass bowl where you kept your most used jewellery in.

You cleared your throat before you answered the call, trying to keep even the slightest bit of disappointment from your voice. And then, you put on a smile and held your phone to your ear. "Hi, you."

"Hey." Spencer drew the greeting out, he sounded less enthusiastic then you had forced yourself to sound. This was the last piece you needed, to know that he wasn't just calling to tell you that he was excited to see you later.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, slightly gnawing on your lip.

"Where?", was all you asked. This time, you couldn't keep your tone light, no matter how hard you were trying.

After a short silence: "Oregon. Lakeview."

You nodded slowly, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "When-", you had to clear your throat again, "uh, when are you leaving?"

"We're about to get on the jet", Spencer answered. It pained him just as much as you, maybe even more, that he had to cancel on you. Again. On your one year anniversary of all days. And you didn't even have some time to at least talk on the phone for a couple of minutes before he had to go.

For a moment neither of you said a word. This wasn't the first time he had to cancel your plans due to his work and it sure as hell would not be the last time. You knew what you were getting yourself in to when Spencer and you started seeing each other. You knew that it would probably happen more times than not and you accepted it; you were more than understanding that the bad guys didn't care for nine-to-fives, weekends or holidays.

You were more than understanding that, while yes, you were a priority in his life, the job would have to come first. And you were fine with that, his job wasn't one he could just “pause” to spent more time with you. But no matter how okay you were with Spencer's unpredictable work hours, that didn't mean it didn't affect you. You couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed when ever he got called away, every time wishing he would stay.

You knew from the start, that it would be hard and it would take a lot of work. But he was worth all of this.

Over the phone you could hear another voice, too distant to make out what was being said, but you didn't need to. It was your cue: your time was up.

"I'm s- I have to go. I'm sorry, honey", Spencer apologized. He would apologise a hundred times more if you'd let him.

"It's okay", you say, a sad smile on your lips.

"I am so sorry, I promise I'll make it-"

But you interrupted him, knowing that he wanted to say that he would make it up to you; and knowing, that he would. "It's okay, baby. Go, they need you. Really, it's okay. I'm okay. I'll see you when you get back. Just... Be safe, okay?"

"I will", he promised, "I will... I love you."

"I love you too." Then, the call ended.

You took in a shaky breath to calm yourself down and wiped the single tear that had escaped from your cheek. Exhaling all the air in your lungs out at once, you squared your shoulders and made eye contact with yourself in the mirror. You had only gone through your skin care routine after you got out of the shower, so there was no make up you had to remove.

A tight lipped smile on your lips, you nodded at yourself. "Just gonna be you, some chinese take out and a nice relaxing horror movie tonight", you mumbled. You stood up, changed into some comfortable clothes and then walked into the kitchen to get the flyer of your favourite chinese restaurant out of the drawer.

It had been almost a week since then. He hadn't told you any details of course, but the simple textbook case that first landed on their desks had turned out to be much bigger than anyone could have imagined.

Spencer had called you every evening, and hearing his voice calmed your worries and fears of him getting hurt, but each phone call made you miss him more and more.

Tonight, he hadn't called you yet and it was getting pretty late. You had gotten a text from him not too long ago, a quick check in, so you knew he was okay.

While you waited, you had brought a book and cup of tea with you as you moved from the couch to your bed. With a pillow in your back, you were leaning against the headboard, your blanket draped over your legs, and your phone lay next to you on the bed.

You looked up from your book to check the time. It was close to one o'clock and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, sleep already pulling at your conscience, but you didn't want to go to sleep without talking to Spencer. A couple of minutes would do it, you just wanted to hear his voice. You continued reading, but Morpheus had other plans for you, and so you drifted into a deep sleep, your book still in your hands.

A soft touch, first on your forehead and hair, then on your shoulder pulled you out of your dreams just enough for you to feel the bed dip behind you, followed by an arm sneaking around your waist. You hummed happily, when lips pressed against your shoulder and your neck in a few chaste kisses before you were pulled closer against a firm chest.

The smell of coffee and something sweet tickled your nose hours later, slowly stirring you awake. With your eyes still closed you inhaled through your nose, sniffing the air, trying to make out the different smells. If you weren't mistaken, Spencer had baked blueberry-pancakes. It smelled delicious, that was for sure.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when you became aware of the feathery kisses being planted on your neck; you vaguely remembered feeling the same kisses last night. A hand gently rubbed over your upper arm, from your elbow up to your shoulder where fingertips moved so softly over your shoulder blade it almost tickled, before the hand travelled back down to your elbow.

A smile spread on your lips as your heartbeat quickened and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your stomach. You sighed and slightly moved your head to make more room for the man behind you.

You could feel the lips on your skin stretching into a smile as well, could feel the low chuckle bubbling up in the chest that was pressed against your back. He scooted even closer, moulding his body to the silhouette of yours. Spencer planted one last kiss on the top of your shoulder before he rested his cheek against it and looked at you.

"Good morning", he said softly, his warm breath hit your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. He, obviously, had been up for a while already, but his voice still had that raw and rough undertone like it always had in the morning.

"Hey", you sighed as you stretched your tired muscles, then you turned around, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. "You're back."

He hummed and leant into your touch, his eyes closed. You let your eyes wander over his face, checking for any cuts or bruises. Relief flooded through you when you didn't find any.

"You okay?", you asked.

He nodded and reached up to cover your hand with his. "Just tired."

"I bet. You didn't say you were coming back. Waited for you to call", you mumbled.

He kissed your wrist and gently squeezed your hand, then he opened his eyes again to meet your gaze. "Surprise?", he joked, but you could hear a hint of guilt in his tone. "I hope I didn't keep you up too long? I'm sorry, I should have at least texted you."

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad your here now and that you are okay."

"But-", he started but you closed the space between you and kissed him.

"Shh, no buts. I'd stay awake and wait the whole night if it means that I get you back, unharmed and in one piece." You kissed him again, letting you lips linger a bit longer this time.

When you pulled away and saw his furrowed brows and the conflicted look in his eyes, you could almost hear the gears in Spencer's mind working.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer. He pressed his lips against your forehead, but not in the light hearted way he had kissed you before, then he tucked your head under his chin. And if he wouldn't have been so close, you might not have heard the words he whispered next.

"You deserve so much better..."

If someone would have stabbed you with a dull knife multiple times right into your heart, it wouldn't have hurt you as much as his muttered words just had.

"Don't say that", you said, your voice muffled with the way your face was so close to his neck.

In contradiction to what he was implying - or maybe especially because of what he was implying -, Spencer's hold on you tightened, leaving no room for you to put any distance between the both of you even if you wanted. "Why not? It's true... You don't deserve-"

"A sweet and loving boyfriend, who gets up to make breakfast even on days when he had about two hours of sleep at best, all after a whole week of working like 24h a day?" You did your best to sound light hearted. "Wow, that's harsh."

He huffed, but stayed silent for a moment.

"I mean it, you don't deserve someone who you can't even make plans with, without the possibility that they have to leave in the middle of it and who leaves you alone all the time", he mumbled against the crown of your head. It took everything in you not to start crying; for you, for him, for the possibility of an end to the future you wanted with him. "I hate that I have to cancel our dates all the time. I feel like I'm letting you down..." You felt his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "And I would understand if you wouldn't want to put up with that any more.”

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed slightly, just enough so you could lean your head back and look at him. Tears had not only welled up in your eyes, but his as well. To stop your lip from quivering you pulled it between your teeth. You slid one of your hands higher, over the side of his neck and up to the side of his face. For a moment you softly stroked your thumb over his cheek, but then went on to try and flatten out the space between his brows, to remove the deep frown on his face.

You took a deep breath. “Did you save some lives in Oregon?”, you asked him, you voice not much louder than a whisper.

“Huh? What?” Confusion was written all over his face.

“Did you?”

“Uh, yes.”

You smiled at him. “And did you catch the bad guy?”

“... Yes.”

“Good." You brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes behind his ear. "That's enough for me. Then there is nothing to feel bad about. You don't leave on purpose or with ill intentions. Then things don't always go as planned, so what? I know how much this job means to you, and I know how important it is for the people in need that you do it."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and landed on the pillow. You let your eyes wander over his face, before stopping to meet his gaze.

"And that's exactly why you deserve better", he whispered, his voice braking.

You shook your head. "I don't want anything or anyone else. I don't want what ever you mean by better." You leaned closer, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I want you. " Another kiss to the other side. "And only you." You planted a kiss on the tip of his nose next. "With or without a crazy and unpredictable work schedule. I'm not gonna lie, yes it's hard. And I need you by my side, too. But still, I wouldn't trade it for the world." You pressed your lips to his, before you whispered: "I love you. More than anything. And I'm gonna stay by your side, come hell or high water, for as long as you'll have me. So don't shut me out, or push me away and try to get me to leave. Because I won't."

Both of you were in tears by now, not even trying to stop it any more. Neither of you said anything else for a minute or two, instead you let your words settle.

Spencer cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away with his thumb. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you. How did I get so lucky?", he said softly and then brushed the pad of this thumb over your bottom lip.

You giggled. "That's my line."

He smiled and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. "I love you", he breathed out against your lips before he kissed you again.

You smiled into the kiss. “I love you too.”

For few minutes the both of you just basked in the bliss of the moment; laying warm and content in each others arms, the soft sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window and the promise of a delicious breakfast that was waiting for you.

And there was only one question left to ask.

“Eat in the kitchen or breakfast in bed?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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harringtonstilinski · 29 days

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Pour Some Sugar On Me - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 7,233 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of weed, using the hellfire club scene again bite me, trying to do more dirty talk so pls be gentle even though it's not much, Requested: no | yes; Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; protected p in v, talks of masturbation, public, A/N: Hi, friends! The Upside Down doesn't exist in this. Also, the Party's in 8th grade, so no Hellfire members are mentioned except for Eddie. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?

“No.”

“Sweetheart, please!”

Sighing, you stopped walking to turn and face your best friend, your books clutched to your chest. “Why?”

“Because we need you!”

“I don’t know anything about D&D! Why would you make me torture myself with trying to learn how to play while you and the rest of Hellfire have been playing for literal years?”

Eddie went to open his mouth, but stopped short when he realized… you were right. He raised his brows with a frown on his face, an unimpressed look on his face as he agreed with you. “You’re right. That’s fair.” When he looked back at your figure, he noticed… you weren’t standing there at all, having walked away.

Following you, he exclaimed, “Sweets!” Resting his hand gently on your arm as he caught up with you, he took a breath and said, “Come on! At least just sit in your chair. You can read or do homework or watch us play. You love doing one of those.”

It was true. You did love doing one of those three things while they played. If you read or did your homework, you’d pause and watch them for a moment, and sometimes while you actually watched them, you’d lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he wasn’t being all dramatic to just rest your eyes for a moment.

He would never admit it, but that was Eddie’s favorite moment; your head leaned against his shoulder with your eyes closed, your breathing even as you’d fall asleep while he and the rest of Hellfire would play. As he looked at you, he was silently hoping that you’d do it again at this meeting.

As you sighed, you went to answer him, but your name being called had you looking towards the source, another sigh falling from your lips. “What, Steve?”

Jogging up to you, Steve smiled and asked, “Hey, you gonna come to the game tonight?”

When you looked back at Eddie, you saw how uncomfortable he was, and it was then and there that you made your decision. Looking back at Steve, you answered, “I can’t. I’m going to Hellfire tonight. I kinda owe Eddie.”

Said boy looked at you, shock in his eyes as you stayed looking at Steve, the latter nodding his head and smiling softly.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said.

Resting your hand on his arm, you frowned, replying, “I’m sorry. I’ll come to the next game. Promise.”

He sighed, bringing you into a hug. “Okay, bug.” Kissing the top of your head, he sighed. Looking into your eyes, he reminded you to be good and not do anything he wouldn’t do, which in turn made you laugh.

When you turned to look at Eddie, he still had that same look on his face that he had while you were talking to Steve. “What?” you chuckled.

“You’re gonna come tonight?” he asked.

Starting your walk to your locker, Eddie followed as you replied, “Well, you wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, so…”

Eddie softly laughed behind you, taking quick strides to your side, putting his arm around your shoulders. “You know you love it.”

You couldn’t deny, you released a breath with a smile on your face as you answered, “Yeah. I do.”

~~~

“It’s forced conformity,” Eddie said, walking back across the table.

“Oh, my god, Eddie, get down,” you whispered, head hidden in your book.

He listened, but not like how you wanted. Instead, he jumped down and yelled, “That’s what’s killing the kids!”

Feeling totally embarrassed, you went back to reading and blocked out most of the events that happened after that, coming back to reality as he said, “And all you gotta do is get your Bo-Peep’s on and go and find one.”

When he took his seat back at the head of the table, you looked at him with furrowed brows, asking, “Get their Bo-Peep’s on?”

“Ya’know. Like Bo-Peep and her sheep?”

You looked at him for a moment before looking back at your book while saying, “You’re so stupid.”

All Eddie could do was chuckle, reaching into his lunchbox to retrieve a pretzel, a smile present on his face. As he chewed his food, his smile fell as a thought raced his mind. “Hey, sweetheart?”

“Hm?” you hummed, eyes still on the page, but your attention fully on Eddie.

“I have this, uhm… thing after school… in the woods.”

Well, that grabbed your attention. “What? I thought we were hanging out before Hellfire like we always do?”

“And we will,” Eddie said, reaching to lightly touch your forearm, his brows raised. “I just, uhm… have to meet someone… in the woods.” He didn’t want to admit to himself, but he loved touching you, within reason; your arm, your knee, your shoulder, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles like the romance movies. Honestly, he felt like he couldn’t get enough.

You looked at him as he quickly eyed his lunchbox before looking back at you, never having moved his hand. Sighing, you closed your eyes, focusing on Eddie’s hand resting on your arm to ground you. Hating to admit it to yourself, you loved feeling his touch on you. You often thought about it when you were up late at night, unable to sleep, thinking about what it would feel like for him to touch you while you pleasured yourself.

Eddie’s hand lightly squeezed where it rested on your forearm. “I know you don’t like it–”

“Eddie, I don’t just not like it,” you whispered. “I hate it.” Looking down, you couldn't help but feel emotional at the mention of his ‘side job’. When he had admitted to you one night that he had started selling weed, you got into a heated argument about it, your best friend telling you that he was doing it to help his Uncle Wayne.

You had understood his reasoning, but were more afraid of him getting caught selling it, or smoking it, or just having possession of it. He had assured you that he would get caught, and that he’d be safe with it. So far, so good.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Moving his hand to yours that was gripping your book, removing your hand to hold your fingers, almost like he was getting ready to kiss your knuckles like he did from time to time. Instead, he just held them, looking into your eyes. “I promise you, I’ll be done quickly. Just wait for me at the van, okay?”

Sighing, you nodded, closing your eyes. When you opened them back up, you looked Eddie straight in the eye and smirked before asking, “Can I sit in the back? With the doors open?” You knew he didn’t care and would say yes. Hell, he’d let you sit on the goddamn roof if you wanted to.

Softly laughing, he lowered his head before bringing your hand towards his face, his lips ghosting over your fingers as he lifted his head and whispered, “Anything for you, m’lady,” before kissing your fingers, a giggle erupting from you.

The entire time the two of you had your moment, the rest of Hellfire looked on with annoyed looks on their faces, each of them wondering if the two of you were ever getting together.

~~~

When the bell rang after lunch and in between classes, you carried on with your day like normal, only your anxiety started to spike at the thought of Eddie in the woods with his damn lunchbox during last period, and just like he did every day, Eddie was waiting for you by the front doors of the school.

As he watched you approach him, he held his arm out for you to take, muttering a “M’lady,” with a smile on his face, making you laugh like he did every day. He walked you to his van, opening the back doors for you before helping you hop inside. Deciding to make a bold move, he placed himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your outer thighs. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Shaking his head at you, he added quietly, “Don’t go anywhere.”

Your breath hitched as he stood before you before you nodded your head, saying just as quietly, “I won’t.” Holding up your book, you added, “I’ll just be sitting here reading.” When he leaned forward, you closed your eyes, feeling his lips on your forehead in a chaste kiss. Well, that was new.

He walked away, lunchbox in tow as he made his way towards the back of the school to the picnic table in the woods, where he met none other than Chrissy Cunningham. The entire time he was in the woods with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, constantly looking off in the direction of the school, a worried look on his face that didn’t go unnoticed by Chrissy.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

Quickly looking back at her, he raised his brows before furrowing them while nodding, answering, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. So, uhh… we gonna do this or what?” before his mind went back to you.

When you watched Eddie walk away, your facial expression went from one of nervousness to somewhat sadness. You were sad that he walked away from you to make a drug deal, moreso because he walked away. You wanted that moment with him to last, but as the universe would have it, you didn’t get what you wanted.

So, you turned your back to the wall of the van and leaned against it, bringing your knees up as you rested your book on your thighs, already lost in the words on the pages, the world of the book sucking you in.

As your eyes scanned the words of the scene you were reading, your mind couldn’t help but picture you and Eddie doing whatever the characters were doing, your bottom lip between your teeth.

You hadn’t even noticed two figures walking up to the back of the van and leaning against the bumper.

“Can you please remove your lip from your teeth?”

Well, that had your attention as you jumped about 10 feet out of your skin. Holding your chest with one hand and your book with the other, you looked at your little brother and just glared. “What the fuck, Dustin Wade?”

Chucklin, Steve asked, “Your middle name is Wade?”

It was Dustin’s turn to use that Henderson glare on his older male friend, responding, “Yes, it is. And what’s yours? Clarence.”

“Worse,” he answered.

“It’s Anthony,” you said, hiding behind your book.

Steve looked at you, mouth opened. “How dare you?” He said your middle name with such sarcasm, your face went from playful to annoyed.

“Go the fuck away.”

They both laughed, which in turn made you chuckle before you asked, “Okay, but seriously, what do you guys want?”

“We came over to ask you if it was okay if I went to watch Steve play,” Dustin said. “He said–”

“I can take him home right after,” Steve agreed.

With a confused look, you asked, “Don’t have to shower and celebrate with the team after?”

“He can take me after he showers or just changes,” Dustin suggested. He looked at Steve and added, ��He can even shower at our house and stay the night.”

“Yeah, yeah! I can do that!” Steve said.

Narrowing your eyes at Steve, you said, “You better make sure he gets home, Harrington, or else I will spill your hair care routine to everyone in this godforsaken school, and maybe even the whole town.”

“Yup, I’ll leave right after the game.”

“Good.” Looking at Dustin, you said, “Please be good, no funny business, and tell mom to not wait up.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin asked.

Sighing, you crossed your legs, resting your hands in the middle, one of your fingers still in the pages of your book. “I’m going to Hellfire with Eddie tonight. He’s been working on this campaign forever and he wants me to be there.”

Both boys looked at each other, different expressions on each of their faces before Dustin turned to face you once more, saying, “Fair enough. You be good. Don’t make dumb choices.”

Chuckling, you uncrossed your legs, bringing your knees back up, saying, “Yeah, okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” they both replied, a genuine laugh spilling from your lips as your eyes went back to the pages. You weren’t sure how long you’d been reading for. The only thing you were sure of was the sun; it was high in the sky when you saw your brother and best friend, but had started to set when you thought Eddie wouldn’t return.

So, you crawled more into the back, finding the pillows and blankets he’d left in there. You crawled back to the spot you were just previously occupying, placing the pillow where your butt had sat, laying horizontally with the blanket draped over your body, your eyes falling shut.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie, a quiet “goddammit,” falling from your lips as you realized… you liked your best friend.

~~~

His meeting with Chrissy took a little longer than he expected. It basically turned into an instruction session before turning into a therapy session. As he walked back to the parking lot, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Chrissy helped Eddie open his eyes at his feelings for you. Even though he didn’t want to admit his feelings, he knew he would eventually have to. So, as he continued walking to his van, he ran a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “goddammit,” to himself before rounding the back of the van, stopping dead in his tracks as he spotted your sleeping form.

He couldn’t help but watch as your shoulders and chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Sitting on the edge of the van, he reached out, lightly brushing a strand of hair away from your face causing you to stir.

When you opened your eyes, you looked at him and smiled a sleep smile in his direction before essentially… falling back asleep.

Eddie chuckled, resting his hand on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing along your cheekbone. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, a quiet hum being your answer to him. As he smirked, he said, “It’s almost time for Hellfire, baby. You still gonna sit and watch?”

Slowly opening your eyes, you breathed in a breath, tilting your head into Eddie’s hand that was still resting on your cheek. “Yeah,” you whispered. Sitting up, you let the blanket fall from your shoulder and bunch up at your waist. With furrowed brows, you looked at your best friend and asked, “What took so long?”

Sighing, Eddie moved to climb in the back of the van with you to retrieve his Hellfire bag. “Chrissy turned the sale into a therapy session after I explained everything to her about… well, ya’know.”

You nodded your head at the same time Eddie turned back around to face you.

“Anyway. I’d probably still be out there if she hadn't noticed what time it was, seeing as she has to be at the game and all.”

“Right,” you whispered, looking down at your book. Picking it up, you muttered, “I thought I put you up,” before you grabbed your backpack to put the book back in. You pulled the blanket off of you and went to fold it when Eddie’s hand stopped you, a shiver running down your spine at the touch.

“Don’t fold it yet,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Because.” He wanted to say what was on his mind, but stopped himself, instead saying, “I know you get cold in the drama room. You can bring it to warm yourself up.”

A smile spread across your face as you tilted your head down, not wanting him to see the blush creeping on your cheeks. “Okay.”

After he jumped from the back of the van, he held his hand out to you, a smile on his face as he said, “M’lady?”

Chuckling, you slid off the back to your feet, hand still in his as you looked at him, saying, “You’re so stupid.”

~~~

Once the boys had everything set up and were sitting in their spots, Eddie took his place at the head of the table on, what he liked to call, his throne. You sat next to Eddie, sighing while draping the blanket over your legs, bringing them up to bend at the knee and tilting them to the side, letting your knee rest against the arm rest.

Just as you opened your book to pick up where you left off, Eddie said something about hooded cultists chanting something about lord Vecna.

“They turn to you, remove their hoods,” Eddie said, your eyes lifting to look at him from the corner of your eye. “You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled–”

As Eddie spoke and started to stand, you lowered your book, his voice sucking you in like a damn vice. He looked at you as he whispered, “Desiccated,” making you jump a little.

“And something else,” he said, softly, turning to the rest of the group. “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” After putting his left arm behind his back, he reached over his head with his right arm, covering his left eye.

The boys all protested while your brows scrunched in confusion as they started shouting their opinions from the last campaign.

“Vecna’s dead!”

“He was killed by Kas!”

Eddie looked at you with a smirk as he sat down before going back into his Dungeon Master character, as he liked to call it. “So it was thought, my friends, so it was thought.” Grabbing the Vecna playing piece, he stood and said, “But Vecna lives!” before playing the piece on the board.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

“You are scared, you’re tired, you are injured,” Eddie said. “Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?” He looked at you, leaning his hands on the table and asked, “What say you, princess? Do you think they’ll flee… or fight?”

You thought for a moment before shrugging, “If they’re not a bunch of pussies, that’d fight.”

His eyes slightly widened, his cock twitching at the dirty words that came from your mouth… or what he considered to be dirty. Looking back at his friends, he said, “Come on.”

After a few moments, one of them said, “I say we fight. Do the death,” everyone else around the table giving their agreements.

You watched as Eddie chuckled, a warmth in your belly starting to form. Deciding not to wait another day, you started to quickly form a plan in your head as to how you’d show Eddie exactly how you feel.

Eddie sat back down, happy with the turn of events. He knew that if you have your opinion, the rest of the group would agree to it. On the nights you weren’t there, they would lose the campaign and go home thinking of ways they could’ve won, as opposed to the nights you were there, they’d win, going with the opinion you gave.

When he needed inspiration for his campaign, Eddie would come to your house or call you to have you come to his trailer, just to sit and enjoy your company. You’d fall asleep half the time, but that didn’t matter to him. Your company was all he needed.

As you sat next to Eddie, half watching and half reading, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights with him, sitting with him in his room while he wrote the campaign they’re all playing. The way he would pace in front of his bed, stopping at his Sweetheart to strum her strings before going back to the task at hand.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his hands hold you, touch you, feel you the way he did his guitar. You also couldn’t but wonder what his fingers would feel like, caressing your skin, tucking your hair behind your ear, lacing his fingers between yours. The third thing you couldn’t but wonder about… was his mouth, and what it could do to you.

When one of the members called for a time-out, you were brought out of your thoughts, not realizing that you were just staring at nothing on the page in front of you. A hand on your knee caused you to jump, looking down at the ringed finger on your best friend’s hand.

Looking up at him, you noticed the crease between his eyebrows as he asked, “You okay?”

Nodding, you took in a breath. “I guess I got lost in thought.”

“About what?” His hand was still there, on your knee.

You took a breath to reply, but stopped yourself from doing so as you furrowed your own brows, looking at the huddle at the other end of the table as you heard, “Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.”

Sighing heavily, you looked back at your book, your index finger between the pages to turn when you were ready. You could feel the eyes of the members on you as you read the words you’d read a million times that night before saying in a sing-song manner, “I wouldn’t be a bunch of pussies, if I were you.”

“Pussies? Really? ‘Cause we’re not delusional?”

“Delusional? How about… not cowards?” you shrugged.

Eddie’s voice yelling out, “Hey!” had your head quickly turning towards him, noticing he wasn’t sitting in his chair, but sitting on the armrest furthest from you. “If I may interject, gentlemen–” He looked at you with a smirk. “Princess.” Looking back at the boys, he continued as he switched armrests, “Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gregory the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?”

They all turned back around as you looked back down at your book, chuckling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, bumping his ribcage with your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said, a smile on your face. “It’s just–” You yawned, closing your book. “-nice to see you in your element.” Putting your book up, you felt like you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you leaned back against the back of the seat, you brought your knees back up, having placed your feet on the ground when reaching for your bag.

Leaning your head against the back of the chair, you felt the blanket being draped over your form, your eyes falling shut, but you weren’t yet asleep when the boys came back to the table, standing at the end. You did, however, fall right asleep before they started to roll the 20 sided die, which was only a couple of minutes later.

Eddie’s sole focus was on that 20 sided die, he hadn’t noticed you fell asleep, head slouched over more to the point where your hairline was almost touching his throne. When the die said 20, the club cheered loudly, Eddie saying, “What? What?” before clapping and looking at your sleeping form.

“That’s why we play, princess,” he whispered. “That’s why we play.”

~~~

You woke up to the unmistakable sound of Eddie putting on his jacket, opening your eyes to catch him pulling his hair from under the leather before you sat up and started stretching, a yawn escaping you.

Eddie turned at the sound of your yawn, sitting back down in his throne, resting a hand on your arm. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “How’d you sleep?”

Shrugging, you softly replied, “As good as you can in this chair,” before softly chuckling. “Did they win?”

He nodded, bringing his hand up to your face, brushing some hair from your face. “Crit hit.”

As you scrunched your brows, you tried to think of what the crit hit meant… and then it came to you. “Crit hit equals good thing.”

Proud that you remembered something he taught you, Eddie smiled a little bigger, nodding his head. “That’s right, princess.”

With your eyes locked on his, and his on yours, you brought your foreheads together, closing your eyes while sighing. “Eddie,” you whispered. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

He nodded against your forehead, his eyes having been closed. This was it, he thought to himself. She’s going to reject me. “I know, and it’s okay.”

Confused, you lifted your head while opening your eyes, looking at his crestfallen expression. “What’s okay?”

Eddie dropped his hand, letting out a heavy sigh while standing. He walked to the side of the table, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose while the other went to his hip, his back somewhat towards you. “The rejection,” he whispered. Trying to compose himself, he turned towards you a little, resting his hands on the table, much like he did earlier in the night. Hanging his head, he said, “Just get it over with.”

You had stood when the word rejection came from his lips. “Rejection? You think I’m rejecting you? Eddie, that was the furthest thing from my mind.” Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek furthest from you, you turned his head to face you, his eyes not following. “Eddie, look at me,” you whispered.

Sighing, he turned his eyes toward you, those chocolate brown eyes you loved so much staring back at you as your thumb moved across his cheek, gently stroking.

“What I was gonna say–,” you said, so softly. “-was that I really like you. Hell, I may even love you-”

“As a friend,” he gritted through his teeth.

“As more,” you said sternly. “Eddie, listen. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Don’t ask me when it started because I don’t even fucking remember. You’ve introduced me to so much; metal, D&D, a world outside of popularity and basketball.”

It was true. You were considered popular just by knowing Steve Harrington, who was still your best friend in the entire world. Eddie was an added bonus. Though your popularity status went downhill after everyone found out you were hanging out with Eddie The Freak Munson, that didn’t stop you from hanging out with him or Steve, the latter still calling you his best friend. You didn’t care about your popularity status. All you cared about… was being around people that made you happy, and those people… were Eddie and Steve, respectfully. Your main focus right now being Eddie and his happiness.

“I love you for that,” you whispered.

With wide eyes, Eddie looked at you. “You love me, then?” Looking at a spot on his denim vest, you thought it over for just a moment before smiling and looking back into those chocolate eyes, whispering, “Yeah. I do.”

“Thank God,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours as he stood straighter.

It took you no time to kiss him back, your free hand coming up to cup his other cheek, your lips moving in sync as Eddie’s hands came to rest on your waist. His tongue traced your bottom lip, asking for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted.

As if a magnet were in between the two of you, the both of you pulled each other closer, your hands going into his hair as his hands went to your back, gently rubbing wherever he could.

You pulled back first, needing some much needed air as you rested your forehead against his. “I’ve thought about this for a really long time, Eds.”

“Me, too, baby.”

Sparking up an idea, you rested your hand on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Don’t move,” you said, enthusiastically frisky.

When you walked toward the door, Eddie’s eyes followed your form, a mischievous grin on his face. “What are you doing, princess?”

“Oh, you know–” Click. “Just… locking the door.” You turned back to face him, back against the door for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with a smile as you looked at him.

Eddie knew he was in trouble just with that smile on your face. He felt his cock twitch his pants, the black denim growing uncomfortably tight as he looked at you. “And, why, pray tell, are you… locking the door?”

“So that I can do this,” you said, making your way over to him.

As a confused look crossed his features as you walked up to him, he shook his head, his hair swaying with the motion as he went to ask, “Wha–” before your lips pressed to his. He was shocked, to say the least, but finally happy to have your lips on his.

Snaking your hands into his hair, you sighed happily as your lips moved in sync with Eddie’s, his tongue sneaking out to ask for entrance to your mouth, which you gladly accepted. The moment your tongues touched, a soft moan escaped you, Eddie’s dick growing even harder than what he thought was capable.

“Damn, princess,” he muttered, kissing the corner of your mouth and cheek until he got to your neck. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for that?”

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, hand lightly resting on the back of his head as his lips searched for that sweet spot. Once he found it, you gasped, whispering, “Eddie! Right there.”

He went to work on your sweet spot, leaving a bruise there, licking at it to soothe it before kissing his way down to your collarbone, reaching with his hands to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting his head to look into your eyes, asking, “Can I take it off? If I’m gonna do anything else–”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off. Take it all off.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head, lifting your shirt up and over your head, revealing… a plain black bra. “Damn, sweets.”

“It’s not special or anything–”

“Still hot.”

“Because it’s black?” you smirked.

He chuckled again, dipping his head to kiss at the tops of your breasts, snaking his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, the straps falling from your shoulders. Once the material had slid down your arms, he looked at you, mouth watering. “Damn, babe,” he whispered.

Deciding to be a little daring, you lightly shimmied your chest, a small smile on your face as you did. “Like what you see, Eds?”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” he said, bringing his hand to the spot between your shoulder blades to pull you towards him, his lips descending to your nipple, wrapping around the bud.

As he licked and sucked, your hand found its purchase to the back of Eddie’s head again, leaving him there as moans and whimpers spilled from your lips. “Oh, my god.”

Breathing out a soft laugh as he switched to your other breast, he whispered, “I knew you’d like that.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” you asked, softly. Another moan made its way out of your throat at the feeling of his lips and fingers going to work on both of your nipples. “Mmmmm,” you hummed.

Eddie pulled back, palming your breast as he looked at you as he said, “Sure did, sweet thing. I’ve dreamt about this for a while.”

You rested your hands on his shoulders, looking him deep in his eyes before bringing a hand up to gently and softly cup his cheek, whispering, “So have I.”

He dove right in, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a full on make out session as you moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding his leather jacket and denim vest off his shoulders, his Hellfire shirt on full display.

The only time the two of you broke apart was for you to remove his shirt, his chest tattoos on full display. You looked at them, tracing over them, even though it almost caused fear in you to trace the spider tattoo.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, putting his hand over yours. “It’s just a tattoo.”

When you looked at him, he was softly smiling, which caused you to softly smile. “I know. They just creep me out.”

“I know what arachnophobia is, babe.” He smiled bigger before a small chuckle came from him causing you to roll your eyes.

Giggling, you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “ I know that, dork.” You slid your hands down his torso, making him breathe in a hiss before your fingers wrapped the top of his black jeans.

Eddie moved his hands to yours, bringing your hands to his belt. He never broke eye contact as he did. “Unbuckle it.”

You did as he asked, looking down to his belt, carefully undoing it and his button before sliding his zipper down.

He breathed out a deep breath, the pressure on his cock releasing a little.

Feeling brave, you decided to reach into his pants, wrapping his hardened length in your hand. “Fuck. I can barely touch my fingertips.” You chuckled, looking up at him, a look of disappointment crossing his features. “Don’t worry, babe. That’s a good thing. Means you’re big.” Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to be seductive, which worked because Eddie sucked in a breath. “I feel like you’re being submissive.”

“Nah,” he said. “Just letting you take the reins for a moment, swee– fuck.”

Your hand moving up and down had a moan escaping Eddie’s throat, his head being thrown back.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing.”

Leaning forward, you placed your lips to his Adam’s apple, moving down his sternum and stopping where you couldn’t reach anymore before looking back up at his face, an almost fucked out look crossing his features. “You look so pretty,” you whispered.

“I’ll show you pretty,” he said, squatting to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Get ready, princess. I’m gonna rock your fucking world.”

“Wha–” you asked, before gasping as your back met the table they had just played on, Eddie’s fingers grazing your sides before traveling down to the tops of your jeans. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“What do you want, princess?” he asked, skimming his lips across your stomach down to your jeans. Looking up at you with mischievous eyes through his lashes, he smiled a little, hearing and seeing your soft breaths quicken. “Tell me what you want. Tell me where you want me.”

“Mmm, on me,” you whispered.

As he unbuttoned your jeans, he whispered, “Where?” before kissing the imprint that the button left on your skin.

Letting out a breath, you looked down at him and whispered his name, your eyes full of pleading, as well as trying to tell him something. When it finally hit him after a couple of seconds looking at you, his eyes went a little wide as he picked his head back up.

“Are you a vir–”

“No,” you shook your head, swallowing your nerves. “I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never… dirty talked before. The last guy didn’t, either. Well, with me, at least.”

Eddie nodded softly before looking back down at your skin, placing another soft to it. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, baby.” Another kiss as he unzipped your jeans. “I’ll take care of all that.”

When he tapped your outer thighs, you knew that was your queue to lift your hips, your nerves starting to show as you watched him remove your jeans, sliding them down your ankles… after sliding your shoes off, of course.

It was like he knew you wanted to close your knees, so before you could even think of doing it, he quickly placed his hands on the inner part of your knees, feeling your muscles tense. “Please don’t be shy, baby.”

He spread your legs a little further apart to slide his hands on the back part of your thighs, bringing them back around to your inner, essentially holding your thighs as he slowly dropped to his knees, bringing you further down the table.

“Tell me,” Eddie said, kissing the inner part of your knee. “Did those other guys worship you?” He watched as you shook your head, another kiss placed a little further down your thigh. “Well, shame on them, then. Because I’m gonna worship this pussy–” Kiss. “-like my life–” Kiss a little further down. “-depends on it.”

You went to say something, the words dying in your throat as a soft moan escaped your throat at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue licking a stripe up your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he whispered, licking another stripe, this time in between your lips. “You taste incredible.”

“Mmm, Eddie,” you whispered, bringing a hand to the top of his head, gently carding your fingers through the tendrils at the top of his head. “Right there.”

Eddie hummed, lapping at your core like a man starved. As he brought his lips to your clit, licking and sucking on it like it was his last meal, he let go of one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to your entrance. Releasing your clit, he gently rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers drawing big circles at your entrance. “You’re so wet for me,” he rasped. “I made you this wet?”

You giggled, gently scratching at his scalp. “You’re so stupid,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, licking at your clit once again. He elicited a moan from you, your tossing back at the feeling of his fingers entering you.

“Holy shit,” you all but whined. You could feel the stupid fucking smirk on his face as he pumped his fingers in and out of your core. “Oh, my god, don’t stop.”

That only egged him on further; his fingers moved faster, and it seemed like his tongue was moving faster as well. Eddie was in full concentration mode, your whimpers and moans sounding like heaven to him.

“Oh, shit,” you moaned, looking down at him, seeing nothing but the mop of brown curls you loved so fucking much. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.”

No words. Nothing came out of his mouth but his tongue licking at your clit relentlessly.

One… two… three more licks and quick pumps of his fingers and you were gone. Gripping his hair as hard as you knew he liked from the horseplay you two would find yourselves in, you came all over his fingers, his tongue wanting a taste.

Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue inside of you as far it could reach, your taste on his tongue.

When he was sure you’d ridden through your orgasm, he kissed his way back up your stomach and sternum, his nose brushing against your chin before his lips found yours, kissing you and letting you taste yourself.

Looking all over your beautiful features when he pulled away, you licked your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, those eyes he loved so much, you hummed and whispered, “Yummy.”

“Shit, princess,” he murmured, hissing when you reached back down to his length, his member still hard as ever. “Goddamn, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Then fuck me, Eddie.” You guided him to your entrance, his hand coming up to hold yours on his length.

“I won’t be able to hold back, baby. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

Nodding your head as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, you said, “That’s okay. Give it to me, Eds.”

He kissed you as he pushed into you without warning, a loud gasp coming from your throat, your head tossing back as far as it could on the table.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, loving the full feeling you were getting. “You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gritted, holding back so much.

“Let go, Eddie, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Pulling his hips back, he looked down at where the two of you were connected before snapping his hips back into yours, a cry of pleasure meeting his ears.

“Fuck! Do it again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled his hips back, snapping them back with yours, repeating the motion. “You feel so fucking good, baby. It was like this pussy was made just for me.”

“Yep, whatever you say,” you replied, voice shaky from the bounces your body was taking with each thrust of Eddie’s hips. “Shit, don’t stop. Mmmm, I’m almost there.”

You went to touch your clit, a whimper escaping you at the feeling of Eddie’s finger circling your sensitive bud. “Just like that,” you breathed. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie groaned. “F-fuck.”

“Cum, Eddie. Cum with me,” you cried out in pleasure.

“Are you–”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’m sure, just–” Moan. “Just cum, Eddie, just– oh, my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” Another moan filled the air as your second orgasm shot through you, Eddie’s not far behind.

Not wanting to crush you, he rested his weight on his forearms by your head, his forehead resting on yours, both of your eyes closed and heavy breaths mingling. “That… was… amazing.”

“Sure as fuck was,” you agreed, releasing a breathy chuckle.

Eddie’s own breathy chuckle blew over your face before he sighed. Placing his lips on yours again, he took a breath through his nose before pulling slightly back with a small smack from yours lips disconnecting. “I have to pull out of you. I’m kinda growing soft here.”

Giggling, you nodded your head, saying, “Okay,” before whining at the loss of him filling you up. “I miss him already.”

“Who?”

“Your dick.”

He looked at you, confused before bursting out in laughter, your own joining him.

When the two of you were dressed and looking a little fucked out, you helped with his campaign books, carrying them with your own book and his blanket in one arm, the rest of his D&D stuff in his own arm, his free one wrapped around your shoulders, your own free arm wrapped around the middle of his back.

As the two of you walked back to his van, you couldn’t help but smile the whole time, happy that you finally got the boy you’ve been dreaming of.

“So,” Eddie said, after helping you into the passenger seat of his van. “What do you say to me getting high, and then us going to Benny’s for a bite?”

“Uhm, yes to the second as long as I meet my curfew, no to the first because you could actually get caught and I can’t have that.”

“Why not?” he asked, almost whining like a child.

“Because I just got you. I can’t risk losing you to something like weed.”

“But… it’s how I’m–”

“Able to help Wayne, and I adore you for that, but Eddie… it’s not smart to smoke and drive.”

“But - but -”

“No buts.”

Raising a brow at you, while turning his head slightly to the side, he said, “They’re for goats.”

You couldn’t help but grab onto his jacket, pulling him closer to you to press your lips against his, but not before giggling, “You’re so stupid.”

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

A/N 2: hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i should've titled this you're so stupid 'cause they said it a lot, lol. so!, just know that if you come into my inbox and ask about you're so stupid, i will be referring to this fic, lol, unless i title another fic you're so stupid.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

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Posted on March 29, 2024

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut

470 notes · View notes

heeology · 8 months

Text

god, you're annoying | l.hs

synopsis → ever since you and heeseung have come into each others' lives, he has been asking you out and flirting with you nonstop. for years, the cycle of him confessing his feelings to you and you rejecting every single one of his advances seems as though it has gone on forever. being fed up, you develop a plan to pretend as though you already have a boyfriend (spoiler alert: it doesn’t end well). after years of continuously trying to get heeseung off of your radar, you just can’t seem to get rid of him and suddenly (to your surprise), you find yourself not being bothered as much by his presence.

feat. → yeonjun (txt), yunjin (le sserafim), beomgyu (txt), minjeong (aespa), jake (enhypen), sunghoon (enhypen), jay (enhypen)

genre → university AU, enemies to lovers, romance, smut

pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, kinda long but bear w me pls

w.c. → 9k

disclaimer!! → any other idols mentioned in this story (that I portray are dating) i do not ship irl; this story is a work of fiction a.k.a. something derived from my delusions and imagination, take this story lightly pls and thx.

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

Everyday you walk onto campus and make sure you avoid eye contact with a “certain someone” and even though the outcome always remains the same, you still hope that one day it will actually make a difference. Unfortunately for you, on your campus, there is only one way to get to your morning class which makes this “certain someone” rather happy to know that you practically have to see him everyday. Although you try your best, he never fails to call out your name, even if you try hiding behind other people; he can spot you from a mile away. This, you find to be annoying. He, however, looks forward to this moment every day because what other reason is there to get up early in the morning if it means he doesn’t get to see you?

You hear him call after you as you try to quickly make your way to your first class which, luckily for you, does not include him. You can hear his footsteps hurrying towards you making you break out into a light jog to your classroom door that is just ahead. You reach for the door handle and open it just enough to let yourself in and as you are about to close it behind you, a hand from the other side stops you, forcing it back open enough for you to be face-to-face with the one and only bane of your existence: Lee Heeseung.

He gives you a cocky smile receiving an eye roll from you as you can already hear his irritating voice begin to say a bunch of sentences and words that you couldn’t care any less about because you couldn’t care any less about him. Heeseung is fully aware about how you feel about him and although some most of his actions are–-yes, he’ll admit–-advertently creepy, he means no harm. You, of course, don’t see it that way, but that doesn’t stop him.

“You didn’t hear me calling your name?” he asks, knowing that you did and also knowing that you ignored him, but he just wants to hear any snarky reply you have because that’s the only time when you actually acknowledge his presence.

“Nope, must’ve missed it.” you say in a fake sympathetic tone.

He lets out a “hmm” and you mock him. He smirks, leaning a little closer to you. You would move away, but then you figured he might take that as his chance to open the door more, so you decide to stay put.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me. There is this restaurant that my family and I only go to on special occasions and I think you’ll really like it.”

There it is, him asking you to the same stupid restaurant that you have said no to many (and you mean many) times before. You know what restaurant he is talking about, some way overpriced place that only really rich people go to. You clenched your jaw as your hand gripped the edge of the door a little tighter. He smiled at you, which you thought was him being smug, but rather it was him anticipating your answer. He meant what he said and he just wants to be given a chance to show you how much he likes you.

Him asking you out to this restaurant, always offering to buy your lunch, pay for your snacks, or buy you some other object just felt as him rubbing his money in your face, making all of his attempts seem as though they are a joke; that you are a joke. Ever since middle school, when you and Heeseung had first met, he made his “crush” on you apparent, which all of the other kids found to be funny and ridiculous. You know he doesn’t actually like you and you hate him for still acting like this even though you both are now grown adults and not eleven year old children who still ride in the car with their parent on their way to school everyday.

“Well, if you think I’ll like it, then I’ll surely hate it.” you reply.

“You’re only saying that be-”

“No, Heeseung, I will not go out with you and for the last time: stop bothering me.” you say sternly.

You scowl at him and he can’t help but find you to be adorable. He knows you’re annoyed by him, but there isn’t anyone else he would rather spend his time with other than you, even if his only way to spend time with you is by pestering you constantly.

“I’m just going to ask you again tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

You knew he wasn’t joking about that and that made your blood begin to boil. You hated having to be bothered by him, you hated feeling like a joke, you hated seeing his stupid face everyday, and you hated how it seems like he doesn't even care. You have to put a stop to this, you simply can’t take it anymore. But how? You’ve tried everything, what other way could there possibly be? Then it clicked. You stood up straighter, looking him directly in his eyes. He found himself a little taken aback by your sudden eye contact, but didn’t want to show it; to show how you make him flustered and blush just by simply looking at him.

“Heeseung, I have a boyfriend.” you say, trying not to smile.

You don’t know how you didn’t think of this before, but you’re overjoyed that the idea finally came. His smile drops–for a split second–as he felt the wind practically get knocked out of him like someone had just suckerpunched him in the gut. You were bluffing, you had to be…right?

“Pfft, I don’t believe you.” he says, letting go of the door, only to cross his arms and lean against the doorframe.

You feel your face become hot as you stand your ground, “And what exactly makes you say that?”

“I’ve never seen you with your “boyfriend”.” he says, making air quotes.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

“Well it surely doesn’t mean that you do.”

“I know you stalk me because you have nothing better to do with your life, but that doesn’t mean you know what I do every second of the day.”

He shrugs his shoulders, not buying a word that you are saying. He keeps telling himself that you are lying, but what if that small percentage of possibility actually means you are telling the truth? He doesn’t want to think about that, he has to believe that you are lying.

“Okay, what’s his name, then?” he asks, confident that you won’t have an answer.

Shit. How do you answer that? You try not to show your worry in your expression and quickly try to come up with an answer. You open your mouth to speak, hoping the words that do end up coming out make sense.

“Yeonjun.” you reply.

Well, you said a name and that’s all that counts. Sure, it’s the name of your best friend’s boyfriend, but she won’t mind if you use him for a lie…right? Now it’s Heeseung’s turn for him to clench his jaw. He scoffs, rolling his eyes before looking back at you.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you with him on campus?”

“Because he goes to another school, idiot.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Through my best friend; they go to school together.”

You could see him become more annoyed with your answers as you tried to say them with as much confidence as possible.

“I still don’t believe you.” he says, less certain of what he is saying than before.

You’re so close and you know it, you just need to say something that will make him back-off once and for all.

“I’ll have him bring me to school tomorrow.” you said, now being the one to cross your arms as you smiled smugly.

Heeseung felt his blood run cold, terror now coursing through his veins. Were you actually telling the truth? He didn’t want to see you with some other guy, most definitely not someone who you are claiming to be your boyfriend. The thought made him both upset and annoyed. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s the one who has been trying to show how much he likes you for years now and some rando comes in and sweeps you off of your feet? Over his dead body.

“Okay,” he says while standing up from leaning on the door, “I can’t wait to see you and a bunch of air walk into school tomorrow.”

“You still think I’m lying?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking away before looking back at you.

“I just find it hard to believe.”

“That I have a boyfriend?”

“You could say that.”

Man, you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong (even though he is technically right). You fake laugh at his reply and stop as you grab his hand. He feels butterflies erupt in his stomach from your sudden contact and is so distracted that he isn’t even paying attention to what you are doing, which is putting his hand on the door frame. You plaster on a fake smile before quickly swinging the door shut. He snaps out of his daze and moves his hand out of the way just in time before it could have been smashed by the door.

Beomgyu didn’t think to even hold back his laughter once the words left your mouth and although the music in the club was blaring through the speakers, you could still hear his piercing voice. The others, however, were a little more surprised to hear what you had said, especially Yunjin and Yeonjun. You had a guilty smile on your face as you exchanged glances between the two and then Yeonjun scoffed. He raised his glass in a ‘cheers’ manner and Yunjin slapped his shoulder.

“It’s honestly not that bad of a plan,” Minjeong says, trying to defuse the tension, “Yunjin, you know better than any of us here how badly this guy bothers her.”

Yunjin sighs before she chugs the rest of her drink from her cup. “You can borrow my boyfriend on one condition: it doesn’t go too far.” She says, pointing between you and Yeonjun.

You both look at each other and cringe. Yeonjun puts his arm around Yunjin and she smiles. He kisses her temple, “As if that would ever happen.”

“So how exactly are you going to convince him?” Yunjin asks.

You chug the rest of your drink, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat. “Is it cool if Yeonjun takes me to school tomorrow? I was thinking all he has to do is walk me to my class and just essentially tell Heeseung to back off.”

“He’s not going to do it unless he believes it.” Beomgyu points out as he leans back into the booth.

“He’s right, him walking you into school isn’t going to be enough to convince him; he sounds persistent.” Minjeong agrees.

“The most he is allowed to do is kiss you on the cheek to make it believable, but that’s it.” Yunjin says looking at Yeonjun to make sure he understands.

“I don’t get a say in whether or not I agree to this?” Yeonjun asks, looking at everyone, but landing on you.

“No.” the rest of you say in unison.

He laughs before finishing his drink. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

Even as Yeonjun pulls his motorcycle to a stop in front of your campus, he can still feel your fingernails practically digging into his stomach.

He lifts up the visor on his helmet, “Can you please stop trying to claw your way into my intestines?”

You let go of him all together and he lets out the breath that he has been holding in.

“Sorry.” you say, it sounding muffled under the helmet. He smiles, taking off his helmet after getting off the bike. He sets his helmet down and holds out his hand for you to take. You take it, him helping you off, before he helps you take off the helmet. “Thanks.” you say and he shrugs his shoulders as a reply.

He glances over his shoulder, noticing people looking at him and you, whispering. “So, which one is the stalker?” he asks, trying to be discreet.

You turn your head to look, not seeing Heeseung anywhere, oddly enough. You scoff, “The one day he isn’t here is the day that you bring me.” you roll your eyes and Yeonjun shrugs.

“Well, see you later.”

“Woah-wait. I still need you to walk me.” you say, grabbing one of his shoulders to stop him from leaving.

“What? Why? You just said he isn’t here.”

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t need reinforcements.”

Yeonjun groans, but turns back around to face your campus. You clear your throat before reaching to hold his hand. You intertwine your fingers, looking at each other through the corners of your eyes, confirming that you’re ready to go. You walk hesitantly at first, but the further you get, Yeonjun releases his hand from yours to put his arm around you. Low and behold, once you made your way to the front of your class, Heeseung was there waiting right beside the door.

He, of course, hadn’t been there the whole time. He was pacing back and forth in the bathroom before working up the courage to actually make his way to your class, a part of him hoping he had just missed you so he wouldn’t actually have to see you with someone else. Yet there you are, walking up to him (well, your class), with some dude who looked like he was trying too hard to be cool with his arm around you. He felt sick and the closer you came, the more he felt like vomiting.

You smiled, stopping in front of your class door with Yeonjun.

“Oh Heeseung, you’re actually here, I thought you chickened out.”

He smiles, annoyed. His gaze shifts over to Yeonjun and Yeonjun smirks.

“So this is Heeseung?” He asks, eyeing him up and down.

Heeseung pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek. He looks back at Yeonjun and eyes him up and down before crossing his arms. Although he currently feels sick to his stomach, he’s still a little suspicious.

“Am I supposed to believe you’re her boyfriend?”

Yeonjun scoffs, crossing his arms, “You can believe what you want,” he steps closer to Heeseung, leaning close to his ear making Heeseung tense up, “but you better stop messing with her regardless.”

He pulls back, smiling at Heeseung and patting one of his shoulders. Heeseung scowls, wiping off his shoulder as Yeonjun turns to you. You smile at him, ignoring Heeseungs glares.

“Have a good day, babe.” he says before kissing you on your cheek. He glances back over his shoulder before snickering at Heeseung and walking away.

You smile proudly at Heeseung while he looks at you in complete and utter shock. Did he just see what he think he just saw? He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe it.

“Well,” you say, making him snap out of his thoughts, “you heard him: stop bothering me.” you say before going into your class.

“I heard from some people that he has a motorcycle and he brought her on it today.” Jake says while taking some food off of Sunghoon’s tray, earning a glare from him.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, clenching his fork harder in his hand. “I don’t get it, he’s not even her type.”

Sunghoon laughs and Heeseung scowls at him. “How would you know? You’re not exactly close with her.”

“I think it’s time for you to just leave her alone, you’ve been bugging her since we were kids.” Jay comments.

Heeseung goes quiet. Should he give up? He reminisces about the time he first saw you, laughing with your friend, and the only thing he could think about was how pretty you look when you smile. He isn’t the type to hide how he feels and he thought you would be pleasantly surprised by how open he is about how he feels about you, but when you rejected him after he bought you your favorite drink, he was confused. He didn’t want to give up, though, because all he wanted was to be able to make you laugh just like when he first saw you.

“Jay’s right, the joke has gone on for long enough.” Jake adds.

Heeseung looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Joke? What are you talking about?”

Before Jake can answer, a girl walks up and takes a seat in one of the open chairs at the table. Everyone’s eyes go to her as she smiles.

“Hi,” she says shyly, “Heeseung, can I speak with you privately?”

“No, thanks.” he replies, continuing to eat his food.

Jake tries to suppress his laugh and Jay kicks him from under the table. Jake’s smile falls as he kicks Jay back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jay warns.

“You started it.” Jake mumbles.

“Well, I was just wondering,” everyone looks back at the girl, momentarily forgetting she was even there, “if you would like to get coffee with me after school.” she says, moving some of her hair behind her ear.

“No, thanks.” Heeseung says in the same uninterested tone as before, not bothering to spare her another glance as he continues eating.

She sits there, a little taken aback as an awkward silence settles. Sunghoon clears his throat before taking another bite of his food. The girl stands up and walks away, not bothering to push back in the chair; Jay and Jake watch her as she leaves.

“She was cute, why did you say no?” Jake asks.

“We know why.” Jay says, drinking some of his water.

“You’ve been turning down every girl that asks you out for years, don’t you want to at least try and date someone?” Jake asks.

Heeseung groans and sets down his fork. “What’s the point? No one else is worth the time.”

“You all should have seen his face.” Yeonjun beams as you and your friend group continue roaming throughout the mall.

“So, it worked?” Minjeong questioned and you nodded your head happily.

“I didn’t see him for the rest of the day and he didn’t say anything else once Yeonjun left.” you replied happily.

“And there was nothing more than a kiss on the cheek?” Yunjin questioned.

“Of course.” Yeonjun says, kissing her quickly.

You and the others groan as they both just smile at each other.

“Oh!” Minjeong says, grabbing your hand. You look at her and then the store she was looking at, “They finally restocked the perfume I was telling you about.”

“I can’t afford that.”

She rolls her eyes, “You can’t, but I can, now come on.” she says, pulling you with her.

“I’d rather not be stuck with you two sickos, so I’m going to go with them.” Beomgyu states to Yunjin and Yeonjun before heading off to follow you and Minjeong.

Yeonjun grimaces and mocks Beomgyu as he walks off and Yunjin laughs.

As much as Heeseung would rather have gone home straight after classes than come to the mall to help Jake pick out a new keyboard, he came anyway due to his friend’s consistent pestering.

“You’re paying me back for gas money, I hope you know that.” Heeseung mumbles.

Jake scoffs, “You’re richer than I am, besides, friends carpool other friends.” Heeseung rolls his eyes as he and Jake make their way to the store. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but is caught off guard by loud giggling coming across from where he and Jake are. Both of them look in the direction of where the noise is coming from to see Yeonjun and Yunjin laughing, her hitting his shoulder playfully and him scattering kisses on her face. Heeseung stops dead in his tracks. Jake stops walking and looks between Heeseung and the couple. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Heeseung could feel anger surging through his body. Isn’t that guy your boyfriend? Why was he so publicly flirting with this other girl? Is he cheating on you? Unknown to him, Heeseung was walking towards the two, blinded by rage. Jake tries to call after him, but it just sounded like static to Heeseung. Jake rushes to catch up to him, trying to figure out what he was going to do and why he was even doing something in the first place. Heeseung stands in front of Yeonjun, making both Yeonjun and Yunjin turn their attention towards him.

“Shit.” Yeonjun mumbles.

Heeseung didn’t have the patience to ask any questions, he knew he was right in the first place. This guy had some nerve to hurt you like this, so before anyone had another chance to say a word, Heeseung clenched his hand into a fist and punched Yeonjun in the face.

“What the hell!?” Yunjin exclaims, grabbing onto Yeonjun’s arm as he falls to the ground.

Heeseung didn’t pay any attention to the throbbing pain from his hand and raises his fist to punch him again, but Jake stops him. Yeonjun touches his face, blood dripping from his nose as he looks up at Heeseung, clenching his jaw in anger.

“You son of a b-”

“Don’t start with that, you’re the one cheating.”

Yunjin scoffs and stands up to slap Heeseung. “You have some nerve to punch my boyfriend, asshole.”

“What the hell is going on?” Beomgyu questions as you, him, and Minjeong come out from the store.

You look around to see the chaos that has ensued as well as people starting to crowd around all of you.

“This idiot punched my boyfriend because he thinks he’s cheating on you.” Yunjin says shooting you a glare as she helps Yeonjun off of the floor.

“You did what?” you turn to Heeseung.

“Isn’t he your boyfriend? Why aren’t you upset that he’s cheating on you?” Heeseung asks, confused and starting to feel the pain from his hand as the adrenaline and anger start to subside.

You open your mouth to say something, but Yunjin interrupts you. “Maybe because he isn’t actually her boyfriend.”

Heeseung looks between you and her, confused.

“Bu-”

“They only pretended to be dating because she wanted you to back off.” Yunjin seethed.

Heeseung wasn’t sure how to process all of this information, let alone, he wasn’t even sure if he was.

“Yunjin-” you try to apologize, but she pushes past you with Yeonjun. You try to grab her hand, but she pulls away and turns to you.

“It went too far.” she says, trying to control her temper before turning around to walk away with Yeonjun.

You turn to look at Minjeong and Beomgyu, but they both just look at each other awkwardly.

“We should probably go with them.” Beomgyu says.

Minjeong nods her head, agreeing, but before they both walk past you, she stops, “I’m sure if you try talking to her tomorrow, she’ll forgive you.”

You bite the inner part of your cheek as they walk away. The crowd starts to disperse, still earning a few questioning glances from those passing by. You glare at Heeseung and begin to walk away.

“Look, I didn’t-” he tries to explain, but you cut him off by turning around, now face-to-face with him.

Tears sting as they begin to brim your eyes. There are so many things you could say to him right now, so many things to yell, but for once you find yourself to be at a loss. He too, is also at a loss for words. Seeing you look at him this way, tears in your eyes, he feels so ashamed and embarrassed.

“Just leave me alone.” you say through shallow breaths, trying your hardest not to cry in front of him.

You knew to him this was all some sick joke, so you doubt he would actually listen to you, but you hoped there was some small part of him that would finally see you never found any of this to be funny and that he has finally taken it too far.

You have never dreaded walking to your class this morning more than you do at this very moment; you just don’t have the energy to put up with Heeseung now or even ever again. You tried texting Yunjin, but she never replied let alone even opened the messages. You were so wrapped up in your emotions you didn’t even realize you made it to your class in peace. Relieved was an understatement about how you were currently feeling, but you also felt oddly sick.

Although you didn’t want him bothering you, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fact that he didn’t even try to apologize once while you were on your way to class. It was the least he could do, afterall. He pretty much destroyed your friendships with your closest friends and now that he’s had his fun, he no longer felt the need to keep up the act? The more you thought about it, the more angry you became. You knew you hated him before, but you’ve never been this furious with him, not even at his attempts to rub his wealth in your face by buying you things. No, this was a new low, even for him, but you keep trying to tell yourself you should’ve seen it coming.

“Oh hell no.” Yunjin mumbles before standing up from the steps she and the others were sitting on. Heeseung approaches cautiously as he feels their eyes burning into him with their intensive stares. “You really are a stalker, how did you even know what university I go to?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively.

“It’s in our high school yearbooks, everyone put where they were going.” he replied. Yunjin scowls, hoping he would get the idea and leave once and for all. “I came to apologize. I just-” he pauses, looking away while clenching his jaw before looking back at them. “I’m sorry I punched you.” he says to Yeonjun.

Yeonjun looks at him, unimpressed.

“You suck at apologizing.” Yunjin states.

“I thought he was cheating! I didn’t know-” he groans, becoming frustrated. He tries to calm down, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “All I want to say is that I really am sorry, I was just trying to look out for your friend, okay? She deserves better and when I saw who I thought was her boyfriend kissing someone else, I just…handled things poorly.”

Yeonjun gets up to stand next to Yunjin, draping his arm around her shoulders. “I get it, you didn’t know.”

Yunjin scoffs, “You’ve officially taken this joke of yours too far, so stop acting like you care about her and just admit it already.”

“Why does everyone think I’m joking?” he asks, both frustrated and genuinely.

“Everyone in school knew you were joking. I thought you took it too far back when you bought her a pair of some new, expensive shoes.”

Is that really how everyone saw it? Is that really how you see it?

“I bought her the shoes because she had her old ones for years and had bandaids for the blisters she was clearly getting. I also bought her extra bandages, did you forget about that?”

Yunjin stops scowling, “So you aren’t just messing with her because she rejected you?”

“Of course not, I really care about her. I know I annoy her, but I never thought she would think I was doing all of this just to hurt her feelings.”

Yunjin stands there for a second, questioning whether or not she believes him.

“You’re right,” she starts, making eye contact with Heeseung, “she deserves the best.” It falls quiet again for a moment, mainly because Yunjin is wondering whether or not she wants to give him a chance to prove himself to you. “We’re going to meet at the club downtown around ten, if you really mean what you say, you should come.”

Heeseung stands there, stunned. Does this mean she believes him? Does this mean they all believe him? Does this mean you’ll believe him? As they walk away from the steps, they all look at him, but not the same way they did when he first came over; skeptical. They all looked at him like they wanted what he said to be true and tonight is the night he is going to prove it.

You walked into the club, anxious, yet grateful that Yunjin finally responded to one of your messages. You wanted tonight to be like any other night that you all hang out here, like everything was back to normal; like it was before the whole debacle with Heeseung at the mall. You made your way past the crowds of people through the darkly lit club, over to the booth you all usually sit at.

“Hey.” you say, trying not to sound awkward.

Yunjin sheepishly smiles, “Hey.” she says.

“Are you guys going to kiss and make up now?” Beomgyu asks, honestly over all of the drama.

Everyone laughs and Minjeong hands you your usual drink as you all make your way to the dance floor. From there, you move your body to the music, just wanting to let go of all the stress you’ve been under lately. Dancing along with your friends, having a good time, is all you care about at this very moment. You were enjoying yourself, feeling confident in the outfit you chose to wear paired along with the light buzz from the alcohol you were drinking. You closed your eyes as you soaked it all in; it felt like nothing could disrupt this feeling.

“Wow…” you hear someone say before they trail off.

You open your eyes and freeze. You know this voice a little all-too-well. Your grip on the glass you are holding in your hand becomes tighter as you slowly turn towards the person who was speaking. Your eyes lock with Heeseungs as he looks at you in awe. You look stunning and he felt like all of the air from his lungs had escaped the second he saw you; breathless. You walk closer to him, so he wouldn’t get any crazy ideas and try to do something else to your friends, but as you got closer to him you couldn’t help but think about how nice he smells. You shake the thought from your head as you look up at him, your eyes meeting once again.

All thoughts you previously had were now gone; he made your mind go blank. Have his eyes always been this pretty? No…what the hell are you thinking? Pull yourself together.

“Do you take nothing I say seriously?” you manage to blurt out.

He smiles, happy that you’re talking to him (and just because he’s happy to see you in general).

“For all the years you’ve known me, you should know better than anyone else that I can’t stay away from you.” he replies before smirking.

That smug attitude thankfully snapped you out of whatever weird thoughts you were having earlier and brought you back to reality: he’s a prick. You roll your eyes and push yourself past him as you head to the bar to return your glass. You set the glass down a little harsher than you anticipated and Heeseung follows you as you make your way out of the club. He calls after you, but you ignore him. Nothing is going to change, apparently. But as you’ve said to yourself before: you really shouldn’t be surprised.

Heeseung stops calling after you and instead catches up to you, grabbing your hand gently so you would stop walking away from him. You turn to face him, looking down at your hands for a split second, feeling a different kind of buzz result from it. You try to shake his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. You meet his eyes, feeling your heart begin to race. As much as you tried to stop, something was happening, and you were certainly not a huge fan.

“I spoke with your friends earlier and apologized.”

He did what? Wait…have you been hallucinating this whole time? That would explain why you suddenly feel this way because you know, not in any lifetime, would you possibly have feelings for Lee Heeseung.

“How?” is all you could manage to say.

Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute, not really in any shape to hold any kind of conversation, but especially not one with Heeseung.

“I made a mistake. I have a lot of things I want to apologize to you for.”

He spoke so gently and sweetly; it was like he was hypnotizing you. The streets were oddly quiet, not too many people, but you could still hear the music from the club. You found yourself staring at him in amazement. The fluorescent lights from the signs of stores nearby and the streetlights felt as though they were shining on the both of you, like you two were the only people who matter.

“What?” is all you can think to say.

“I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you to the point where you felt like you had no other choice but to lie.” he says, taking a step closer to you. “I’m sorry I made you and your friend fight.” he takes another step closer to you. You felt your breath hitch as your eyes traveled along his figure. Has he always looked this good in a black button up and black pants? It doesn’t help that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you find yourself staring at his arms.

He waits for you. He waits for you while he clearly sees you checking him out and it’s turning him on. God, you look so beautiful and the way you are looking at him, slowly taking in everything about him as if you are seeing him for the first time makes him want to kiss you; it makes him want to do a lot more. When your eyes meet his again, he takes this as an opportunity to step closer to you, placing his other hand on your cheek, gently cupping your face. He wants to be gentle because you are one of the most precious things to him. He leans close to your face, each others’ breath scattering lightly along one anothers face.

“And I’m sorry,” he whispers as he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek, still looking into your eyes, “for making you feel like a joke.”

You feel yourself tense up. “Was it? All a joke…” you trail off, not necessarily sure what you want to happen next.

He continues looking into your eyes, never looking away because he wants you to know that he is being serious; that he means every word he says.

“Not for a second.” he replies.

You think back to everything he has done for you in a new perspective. How he would leave your favorite snack on your desk on test days, notes telling you how well you did after a presentation, volunteering to be your partner because he didn’t want you to feel alone or left out, buying you your favorite drink if you forgot to bring money for it, and asking you out to a restaurant that holds a special meaning to him and he only wants to share it with you.

You want to kiss him, but you find yourself pulling away instead. He looks at you, confused, as you separate yourself from him, letting go of his hand.

“I should get home. You know how early my morning class is.” you say while looking at the ground.

“Are you walking home? This late?”

You step back a little bit, finally looking back at him and you smile nervously. “I usually take the bus, but I think I missed the last one, so yeah, I guess I am.” you say kind of bunched together. Are you nervous?

“I can just drive you home.” he says, not really offering, more like telling.

You shake your head as your eyes shift to one of the cars in front of the club. You recognized it as his since he drives it to school everyday. A small, small part of you would love to ride in it, but you can walk home yourself (even if you also know it’s a bad idea).

“Yeah, I’m not letting you walk home alone this late.” he says, no longer wondering why you pulled away from him, but more concerned for your safety. He reaches for your hand and you let him take it, even if you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. You both walk over to his car and he opens the door for you to get in. You look at him and he looks back at you, not intending on budging from his offer. You roll your eyes playfully as you get into the car. He closes the door and walks over to get into the driver's seat. He gets in and closes the door before starting his engine. You sit there, a little surprised you were even in his car in the first place. “You kind of need to put on your seatbelt.” he says, nodding his head towards the seatbelt that you left untouched.

You laugh nervously, but for some reason, you still don’t think to move to put it on. He sighs, smiling to himself at your cuteness, before leaning over to grab the seatbelt, slowly extending it over your body before clicking it into place. He looks at you, your faces inches apart, and you feel your breathing quicken once again. His heart begins to beat faster, but he can’t stop looking at you; you’re stunning. He manages to pull himself away, worried he might make you feel uncomfortable, before putting on his own seatbelt and putting the car in drive.

“Do you want to tell me how to get to your house?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking spot.

Your eyes widen. Right, your house. A house that--you assume--is nowhere near as nice as his house. What if once he sees just how different you two are he will stop liking you? What if he was lying before and this was his final cruel attempt to make fun of you? You shake your head.

“I would rather not tell you.”

He steps on the brake, turning his head to look at you.

“You…don’t want to tell me?”

You shake your head, hoping he’ll give up and let you out of the car. You hear him let out a tut, making you turn your head to look at him.

“Would you rather I take you to my place?” he asks, trying not to sound nervous.

Not particularly, you kind of already planned on going to bed once you got back home, but you stayed quiet, leaving him to answer his own question. He sighs, releasing his foot off the brake.

Heeseung pulls up to a gate that guards a huge house behind it. Your mouth falls a little agape as you look at it, thinking about how the driveway is the size of your own home. He puts in the code, opening the gate, and driving up the huge driveway. He parks the car and turns off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt before looking at you.

“Do you need me to unbuckle it for you?” he asks while smirking.

You kind of want him to, but you opt for doing it yourself. You both get out of the car and he waits for you before he begins to lead the way. You can’t stop looking around as you two walk up the stairs leading to the (in your opinion) oversized doors, to which he opens and lets you walk in first. The house is even more luxurious on the inside than it is on the outside, which you honestly didn’t think could be possible. He shuts the door behind him and you both take off your shoes. You feel out of place, starting to feel insecure. The guy with all of this money to have this grand living room with a huge television, windows covering the walls and expensive furniture littered everywhere claims to like you? And has for years? You were starting to find it hard to believe again.

“I hope this is okay.” he says, breaking the silence.

You weren’t sure what he meant, but you assume he’s hoping it’s okay that he brought you here. He starts heading for the staircase and you follow behind, still taking in your surroundings. He leads you to his room, and you decide to stand by the doorframe. To you, it doesn’t seem like the downstairs even needs a living room since he already has a couch and t.v. in his room along with a big bed laying on a platform and more windows for walls. A beep is heard and the curtains for his windows start automatically covering them and the two lamps on his bedside tables turn on. He looks back at you, smiling at your expression that he finds to be adorable.

“You can come in, you know.” he says as he rummages through some drawers.

You hesitantly walk into his room, somehow just noticing how nice it smells, and find the confidence to walk up the few steps to his bed to take a seat. You turn your head to look around some more and Heeseung looks up, stopping what he is doing upon seeing you on his bed. You are on his bed. Is he dreaming? He honestly never thought this day would come and he clears his throat to try and calm his nerves, making you look at him.

“What are you doing?” you finally ask.

He grabs what he came in for and walks over to you holding out the clothes he picked himself.

“The guest rooms don’t have any clothes in them, so you can borrow mine.”

Did he just say “rooms” as in plural, like multiple?

“Right, naturally.” you tease.

He smiles and you stand to grab the clothes from him. You hold them as you look up at him, once again meeting his eyes. That feeling starts to form again, the one where you don’t want to stop looking at him and certainly don’t want him to stop looking at you.

“I forgive you.” you whisper.

He looks confused for a second before he understands what you mean. He smiles.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the atmosphere, the way he smells, the way he’s looking at you, or all three combined, but before you can even process what you are doing, you are tossing the clothes he handed you onto the floor and pulling him by the collar to kiss you.

Holy. Shit. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him. One of your hands moves to hold the side of his neck while the other moves to the back of his hair as you start running your fingers through it, gripping it here and there. He moves his hands to hold your waist, squeezing them lightly from anticipation, as he kisses you back. He gains more confidence, pulling you as closely as possible to him, as he deepens the kiss. He is desperate for you, he is desperate to show you how he feels. He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, him carefully carrying you and placing you onto his bed. He lays you down as you two continue to kiss, him pulling away from your lips and beginning to leave a trail of light, breathy, kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. Your chest raises from the deep breath you take and he swears he is going to lose his mind from looking at you in your current state. The state he is currently leaving you in.

His hands roam your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

“Heeseung…” you say breathlessly, practically sending him over the edge.

He can feel his erection growing and you saying his name like that makes his cock ache harder. He pulls away from leaving hickeys along your chest, pulling you up by the waist so he can lift your dress off of you. He pulls it over your head and you help him, throwing the dress off to the side. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to calm his breathing and you begin to palm his erection. He whines, moving your hand away before laying you back down. His eyes scan your body, now realizing you were never wearing a bra. There you are, laying on his bed in nothing other than your underwear and he has to try and collect himself before he cums in his pants at just the mere sight of you. His right hand begins to travel up your leg, his fingers lightly running along your skin as he continues to look at you, look at every inch of you. His fingers travel past your hip up to your breasts where he cups one of them, earning a small gasp from you.

He bites the inner part of his cheek, trying to contain himself as he fondles your breast, playing with your nipple, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. He leans down to leave light kisses on your shoulder, looking at your face between each one, going down and stopping at your other breast before latching his mouth around your nipple. You bite your lip, one of your hands comes to grip his hair. He moans as he swirls his tongue around your nipple, occasionally flicking it. He felt drunk and so incredibly turned on. He stops fondling your other breast with his hand and lightly trails his fingers down to your underwear, sticking his hand inside. You gasp again, his fingers feeling a little cold as he runs them along your wet folds.

Fuck he was making you feel good and you let out a moan, making him smirk. He sticks a finger in, making you grip his hair a little harder, and so he sticks in two. You moan again and he pulls away from your breast to kiss you as his fingers pump in and out of you. You’ve become so wet that you start to cover his hand in your wetness, the sound of his hand coming in constant contact with your pussy starting to fill the room. You feel yourself become close and your mouth falls agape. He stops kissing you and pulls back as well as pulling his fingers out of you. You open your eyes, the dim lights suddenly being so bright as you try to process what is happening.

He brings his fingers to his lips, licking off your arousal from them. His eyes close as he inhales deeply, consumed by the taste of you.

“Please, Heeseung…” you start to plead.

He opens his eyes and figures he can’t leave you without what you want. So, in honor of a fair trade since he feels intoxicated by your taste, he takes off your underwear and throws your legs over his shoulders as he positions his face in front of your pussy. You swallow harshly as you feel his breath on you before he licks a stripe along your core, causing your eyes to roll back a little bit and your back arch at the sudden contact. His hands grip the sides of your thighs as he indulges in you, licking up every last drop of you before making his way to your clit and sucking on it.

“Fuck, Heeseung…” you moan out breathlessly.

He’s too consumed by your taste to notice and he pulls you more into his face. He moans into you, one of his hands leaving your thigh as he starts to finger you again. He hears you moaning and gasping, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you. Just the sight of you causes him to pick up his pace, his fingers rapidly going in and out of you and the more you moan, the more turned on he gets. You feel yourself become closer, gripping the sheets as you call out his name. That mixed with the taste of you on his tongue makes him moan. You taste so good, you look so beautiful, he feels like the luckiest man alive to have you call out his name. He sucks harder and pumps faster as he moans into you, cumming in his pants.

Your head falls deeper into the pillow you were laying on as you release yourself all over his fingers, mouth, and face. His movements begin to slow down as he calms down from his high and he pulls away, seeing your legs shaking a bit. He sits back, taking your legs off of his shoulders and you look at him. His face is flushed and shiny because of your cum, which he didn’t mind. He licked his fingers again, trying to catch his breath afterwards and you find the energy to sit up.

You pull him in for a kiss and his hands land on your ass, squeezing it. You moan and reach your slightly shaky hands up to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them. You pull away as you take the shirt off of him, throwing it to the side. This time, you leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to his neck, his mouth falling agape from pleasure. He was becoming hard again and so you started to undo his belt as well as the button and zipper on his pants. You can hear him let out shallow breaths, and he pulls you back to kiss him on the lips. You kiss each other with so much need, and as you start taking off his pants, he pulls away to take them off himself.

You watch as he does, seeing his bulge through his underwear along with the cum stain from earlier. You smirk, which makes him feel a little shy.

“Come here.” you say, your eyes flicking back to meet his.

He listens, and you move each other so he is now the one laying back as you sit between his legs. He swallows harshly, completely turned on by the sight of your bare self looking at him in such a sinful way. Fuck, he wants you to ruin him. You keep eye contact with him as you lightly grab the edge of his boxers. His breath hitches as he becomes increasingly more nervous and he bites his lip as you run your pointer finger over his v-line. You smirk, slowly pulling his boxers off of him and finally letting his aching cock free. You cast aside his boxers, lightly running your fingers along his length, making him let out little moans, trying to decide what you want to do next. Seeing him like this, you decide you can’t wait any longer, so you position yourself over his cock, one hand holding onto his shoulder as the other guides it into your cunt.

You both throw your heads back as you let out a moan in unison. You slowly sank onto his length and he watched in awe. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening and when you finally settled fully onto his cock, his mind felt fuzzy. You felt so fucking good and here you were, riding his dick with hickies all over your chest and neck made by him. Consumed by his thoughts, he gripped your hips a little bit harsher as he let out a stifled breath. You look at him, wondering what was happening, but feeling his cock twitch inside of you and him letting out a string of moans and apologies answered your question quickly as he came inside of you.

His breathing settled after his release and he looks at you, eyes a little hazy, but full of pleasure; he looked so fucked out.

“I’m so sorry.” he half whispers and half exclaims.

He really meant it and to be honest, he was kind of embarrassed. You shake your head.

“Don’t be,” you say, starting to rock your hips, causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, “it was hot.” You pick up your speed and call out his name from how good he is making you feel. “Shit…” you whine as you start to lose momentum from the pleasure. He notices and adjusts himself so he is laying a little bit lower to which he slings his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a small yelp as he hoists his hips up, thrusting into you, fast and deep. “Fuck…” you call out into his ear, making him pick up his pace.

Moans mixed with the sound of his cock rutting into you fills the room and you grip the sheets as you feel yourself clench around him.

“Fuck-” Heeseung starts, but is cut off by his own moans from being close to his climax.

He thrusts into you faster and you clench around him harsher, your legs shaking as you cum all over his dick. He grips your waist harsher and clenches his jaw, breathy moans still escaping through his teeth as he cums–once again–inside of you. He does a few more thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of your throbbing cunt. You both lay there for a moment, you still on top of him, trying to catch your breath.

“So…” Heeseung starts. You lift your head slightly to look him in the eyes and he smiles sheepishly, “does this mean you’ll go on that date with me?” he asks, hopeful.

You roll your eyes, “God, you’re annoying.” you say before smiling.

2K notes · View notes

pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Note

hey kay bb!! hope you're doing well 💖

mando has been on the brain lately so i'm requesting fluffy smut with him pls 🥺😫 (the yearning is *extra* today)

niiiiiiiiik my darling my dear hope you are also well 💗

ok…this got away from me. I blinked and suddenly a plot! exposition! SMUT! (multiple scenes at that) all the things. I’m a slut for Din Djarin and it really jumped out on this one.

(smut below the cut, a full plot, the helmet comes off, a bit of inexperienced!din, reader is kind of a bad ass, descriptions of bodies, unprotected p-in-v sex - wrap ur shit even if ur in space ok)

sleepover saturday

uncharted territory

(word count 9.1k - it REALLY got away from me okay)

gif by @aceofwhump

Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

Din Djarin aches in a way he has never felt before, much more powerful than any injury he could ever sustain. His Creed, demolished. His son, gone. His life, upended. As he staggers out of the Covert, trying to think of where to go next, he cannot shake the feeling of lost that settles around his shoulders like a cloak.

Maybe coming to Glavis was a mistake; maybe he should have stayed back on Nevarro, kept taking jobs from Karga until he finally had enough credits to take the old man’s advice, get himself a camtono full of spice and disappear into the Twi’lek healing baths until he forgot the whole thing.

The truth of it? He knew he could never forget. There wasn’t enough spice in the galaxy to help him forget it all. It wasn’t possible. And the larger part was that Din didn’t want to forget.

His leg aches as he walks. The bacta Paz had sprayed him down with had helped some, but the ache runs deep, and the drills the Armourer had forced him to run with the Darksaber had only made matters worse. He should find a place to lie down, to hide for the night before he decides what he plans to do next, where he plans to go.

Where will he go?

You are a Mandalorian no more.

The echo of the words make his head split, and for a moment, he has half a mind to wrench the helmet off, to launch it off the ring, let space swallow the beskar whole. But he stops himself; it feels as though his armour is all he has left.

His armour, and the Darksaber. The right to the throne of Mandalore.

Maker, he can’t think straight. The ache only worsens, his limp more prominent, and it gets to the point where he can take no more. He falls onto the nearest crate, his injured leg stuck straight out in front of him. His body feels twice as heavy, his head even more so, and he tips it back against the wall to lighten the load. He’ll rest just a moment, he’ll just shut his eyes for one—

“Mando?”

Din pulls his blaster from his holster as his eyes shoot open. There’s the sound of shuffled steps, something metallic hitting the floor, a murmured dank farrik! He hits a button on his vambrace, turns off the thermal setting on his visor.

“Sweets?”

You look exactly the same as he remembers. It’s been ages, but he could never forget your face. He knows what’s underneath your clothes, too, and the memory speeds to the surface of his mind faster than a pod-racer.

Before he had an in with Peli on Tatooine, the Razor Crest routinely parked and tuned up in Hangar 3-5, he had you. You were well-known within the Guild, had more than a few contracts with different gangs and hunters in the galaxy. If something on a ship broke, you were the one to fix it, and you had enough heavily-armed thugs on your side to make anyone think twice about trying to mess with you.

Some called you the Mechanic, simple and descriptive. Others, those you let a little closer, knew you as Sweets, a moniker earned by your penchant for candies and treats. You’d let your favoured clients off easy if they were short a few credits, but had something sweet from the far reaches of the galaxy to offer in lieu of the missing cash.

Din knew he was one of your favoured clients, perhaps your favourite. Or, had been. You’d crowed endlessly about the Crest, desperate to get your hands on it any time he hauled it in for service, whether it actually needed it or not. Sometimes he genuinely needed something fixed, some times he’d found some candy or sweet in a far off corner of the galaxy that he’d brought back just for you.

Other times, he just wanted to see you.

You were sweet in other ways, too. He knew first-hand. And he knew he was the only client you let into your bed. He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d been introduced — a common contact between you and Din sent him your way when the Crest was in serious need of a tune-up, and you were the closest mechanic he could get to without doing more damage to the ship.

Your knowledge astounded him, to start. You were barely into a diagnostic and you knew exactly what needed to be fixed, what parts you had and didn’t, how many credits it was going to cost him. And you hadn’t even set foot on the ship yet. Your competency drove him wild, only spurred on when he brought you aboard the Crest to give the interior a once-over, eager to see if he’d kept everything original, or if you had any modifications to offer that he might be interested in. Din followed you around the ship silently, answering whatever questions you had, mostly just watching you work. It was intriguing beyond belief.

“That’s not much of a bed,” you’d commented, cocking your head to the side when you hit the button that opened the bunk. “When’s the last time you had a new mattress?”

He just shrugged.

“One thing you should know,” you said over your shoulder, descending the Crest’s ramp, heading back towards the entrance to your shop. “I don’t use droids.”

Din nearly fell over. “That’s not a problem.”

“Good,” you replied, tapping at your data pad, your brow scrunching. “It’ll take longer than your usual hangar; I do everything myself.”

“I’m happy to wait,” he said, dipping his helmet, thankful it was hiding the way he was raking his eyes over you. I don’t use droids. Had someone made you in a lab somewhere, on some backwater planet, just for him? “I know she’s in good hands.”

The grin you’d offered him was sweeter than anything he’d ever seen, and you shooed him out a moment later, muttering something about getting back to work.

When he returned three days later to retrieve his ship, he almost didn’t recognize it. You’d repainted most of the outside panels, replaced all the ones that were missing, and the engines were so shiny Din could see his helmet reflected in them. Inside the Crest was another story; you’d outfitted him with a carbonite cell system, top of the line and primed for use. That meant no more mouthy bounties, no more wasting durasteel cuffs and gags when he could just hit a button and have a quiet ride back to the Guild.

And in the bunk, a new mattress, complete with a pillow, and bolted on the wall, a mount for his helmet.

“You don’t sleep with that thing on, do you?”

“The carbonite system,” he nearly sputtered, rubbing a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t have the credits, I didn’t—”

You poked the toe of his boot with your own. “Call it a gift, Mando. Let’s just say I shouldn’t have had the thing hanging around to begin with.”

“Is that gonna cause me any problems?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p. “Wiped all the identification numbers from the system. No one will know where it came from. Except you.”

He stared at you a long moment. “Except me.”

He was sure to pay you in full, plus the candied flowers he’d found at one of the vendors in the markets. You’d smiled again at that, and while Din committed the sight to memory, he also promised himself that he wouldn’t let it be long before he saw your smile again.

And he kept that promise. The next time he landed the Crest in your hangar, it wasn’t because he needed a tune-up or new parts. He’d struck gold at a black market on Coruscant; his bounty had lead him into the belly of a sweet shop, and after the Gungan had been dealt with, Din did some hunting of his own. He took as many boxes as he could carry, trying to take one of each flavour, a few extra of the ones he’d seen on the shelf in your shop.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here?” you’d called as soon as he landed, stepping out of the shop and into the hangar, your hands on your hips, cocked to one side. “You ruin my handiwork that fast?”

“Not exactly,” he’d replied, walking down the ramp, his arms laden with goodies. Your eyes had gone huge. “I come bearing gifts.”

“For me?” you cried, gasping as you took the boxes from him, tongue poking between your teeth. “Mandalorian, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He’d never been so grateful for his helmet at that exact moment. He might have crumbled to dust if you’d seen how red his cheeks were. “I-I owed you,” he stuttered out, “for the carbonite.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you quipped, swaying from side to side on your feet, staring down at your treats. “I told you, it was a gift.” You gave him one of those smiles again, and Din felt his stomach twist at the glitter in your eyes. “Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll feed you and everything.”

You disappeared into the shop, and Din paused a moment before following.

He saw you disappear behind a dark curtain that had definitely seen better days, and Din followed your further to discover there was an apartment of sorts attached to the shop. Apartment was perhaps too kind a word; it was one large room, a kitchen to one side, a large futon spread in the middle. Trunks and boxes and crates stacked along the far wall, a few grease-stained jumpsuits littering the floor. You stumbled over your feet trying to pick them up, tossing the offending fabric into a nearby crate, before you turned back to him. “What are you hungry for?”

You served him first. Noodles with dark sauce and some kind of shredded meat you thought was bantha but weren’t quite sure. But, as you stated with a shrug, “it’s good, and it hasn’t killed me yet.” After you slid the bowl across the table to him, you turned back to the stove and stayed that way. After a moment, Din wasn’t sure what to do, but then your head turned slightly, your eyes trained directly to the left, not wandering towards him over your shoulder. “I won’t look. Swear.”

He lifted the helmet just enough to shovel the food into his mouth. You were right, the mystery meat was good, and the sauce you’d made to go with it was even better. He nearly inhaled the food, not wanting to keep you too long, and when the helmet slid back down, the mechanism hissing back into place, your head turned again, still not looking at him.

“You’re safe,” he said, sliding his empty bowl back across the table.

You turned fully, serving yourself, and he expected you to sit across from him, keeping a bit of distance between you, but instead, you rounded the table and plunked yourself down on the stool right beside him. You ate much slower than he had, and Din let his eyes graze over you. The streak of engine grease on your cheek, the scar that split your lower lip, the intricately messy way you wore your hair. A silver chain sat around your throat, strung with a tiny silver ring. It disappeared down the front of your shirt most of the time, but right then it sat awkwardly, the chain caught on your collar, the ring sitting in the hollow of your throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and fix it.

The jumpsuit you wore was nearly identical to the ones you’d hurriedly swiped off the floor. Torn on one knee, zipper unfurling beneath your chest, a symbol he didn’t recognize patched onto your thigh. You’d tied the sleeves around your waist like a belt, a dirty rag tucked in at your hip. The Mechanic, herself. Sweets.

He thought you were beautiful. He had a feeling you’d look beautiful in anything.

Or nothing.

Din was distracted by your thumb at your lips, swiping a drop of sauce from your chin and sucking your finger into your mouth. His flight-suit was tight beneath his beskar to begin with, and you weren’t helping matters. “So,” you said simply, reaching for your food again. “Tell me a story, Mando. A good one. Best bounty you ever caught.”

The conversation filtered between you two easily. You were a good listener, easy to talk to, and Din felt like he couldn’t stop talking to you, telling you about his first kill, his first bounty. His first ship, before the Crest. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the before, before the Guild, before he was just the Mandalorian, when he was just Din Djarin. A foundling. Part of him wondered what you think, what your reaction might be to his past, but a larger part forced his mouth shut.

At some point, he turned himself towards you on his stool, one arm braced on the table, the other resting on his thigh. After you finished your food, you leaned heavily on the table, your head pushed into your palm, legs crossed at your ankles, swinging slowly, the toe of your boot tapping his shin every once in a while.

He could see you were tired, the way you started covering your yawns and rubbing at your eyes. “I should go,” he said, starting to get to his feet. “You’re tired, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Your hand flashed out quick — not quick enough to startle him, though — and wrapped around his wrist. You’d managed to wedge your fingers right into the space where his glove met his vambrace, and he felt you against his pulse, against his bare skin. “You don’t have to leave, Mando.”

Din. He wanted to tell you. My name is Din.

Slowly, his own hand reached out, hovering in the air, shaking more than a vibroblade. He saw your eyes trace its path, watching until it lowered, dropped until the flat of his palm met the curve of your thigh. His gloved fingers wrapped around the meat of your leg, his thumb pressing towards the inside.

He heard you gasp.

He moved forward an inch, and his hand moved higher, thumb riding the seam of your jumpsuit. You hummed, fingered squeezing around his wrist, and Din moved closer, until he had one leg between yours. He let his hand wander higher, listening carefully to the changes in your breathing, the hitch in your throat. The heat between your legs was almost stifling, and something feral in the back of his brain screamed for more.

Whatever snapped in him, it seemed to break in you at exactly the same time. You both shot to your feet together, and Din’s hands moved to your waist, to where your sleeves were knotted at your waist. Yours roamed his chest plate, fingers tapping along beskar until you hooked them in his cloak. He halted his own hands, ready to help you remove the fabric, but you handled it just fine on your own, finding the hidden snaps with ease.

His blood turned to flame when he felt your fingers along his throat, seeking his pulse in another spot. “You should stay,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a murmur. “Please, Mando, I want you to stay.”

He forced himself to nod, his mind now preoccupied with ripping his gloves from his hands. He needed to feel you, no barriers in between.

He needed to see you, something in him screamed, no barriers in between.

He silenced that voice before it could spur him further. Busied himself with diving his hand beneath the waist of the jumpsuit, the broken zipper catching on his wrist. You were even hotter beneath, and he sucked down a breath when he found you wet, slick coating his fingers.

Your body leaned into him, chasing his touches, and he hooked his other hand around your thigh, lifting you up and backwards onto the table. He could feel you watching, your eyes moving from his helmet down his front, to where his hand was jammed beneath the jumpsuit. He crooked one finger, testing, pressing it into you, and grinned beneath his helmet when you moaned.

Din hooked his arm under your waist, lifting you just enough that he could maneuver the jumpsuit over your hips, down your legs. His cock jolted between his legs at the sight of you bare, leaned back on the table, your chest heaving. Even though the visor, he could see how slick you were, the evidence shining on the insides of your thighs.

He wanted to taste you.

He pushed the thought away again. Another time, when he wasn’t smearing the inside of his flight-suit with precum, when you weren’t keening into his touch as he dragged his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, when he could turn the lights off and shed his armour, bare himself to you the same way.

You moaned again when his fingers found your clit, drawing a sloppy circle that had your muscles tensing against his hand, knees closing against his hips. “F-fuck, Mando,” you ground out, tipping your head back on your shoulders. “You’re good with those hands.” Another stuttered breath as he twisted his wrist, curling two fingers just inside your entrance, thumb stretching up to swipe over your clit. “Really good.”

He was grinning beneath the helmet again, eyes glued to your face as he pressed further, fingers threading deeper into you. He could feel everything, the twitch of your thighs, the clench of your cunt. You reached out with one hand, using the other to balance yourself, and closed it around his elbow, your fingers digging into the thick fabric so hard he was shocked your nails didn’t bite right through.

“How do you like it, Sweets?” he asked, leaning forward until he was nearly hovering over you. Your hand moved from his elbow to chest, fingers hooked in his armour. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved again, this time moving straight down his front, past his waist, right between his legs. His cock throbbed as you palmed him, a cat-like grin on your lips as you tilted your head level with the visor. You leaned up slightly, pressed your lips to the beskar edge that mirrored his jaw. Another squeeze, and the slow pace of his fingers faltered, his head nearly smacking into yours. “I need this.”

Din couldn’t hold back anymore. Something in the way you stared up at him, eyes tracing over the helmet, told him you didn’t want him to.

“I like it rough.”

It all happened in one fluid motion. He pulled you closer, right off the edge of the table, and you spun in his grip, leaning forward over the table, planting your hands flat. The jumpsuit slid further towards your ankles and you arched your back, your ass grinding against his hardness, and Din groaned audibly, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your legs spread as much as the jumpsuit would allow, and Din worked his own zipper down, freeing himself from the flight-suit. You made the most delicious noise as the tip of his cock smacked against your ass, the tip dripping with precum.

Your head turned as he took himself in hand, tapping your ass with his cock again. “Maker,” you breathed out, your eyes widening. “I knew you’d be big.”

Beneath the helmet, Din turned crimson.

He planted his other hand between your shoulders, tipping you forward. You went willingly, eyes rolling back as he pushed his hips against your ass. He could see how wet you were as you bent, slick still dripping down your thighs.

There was nothing stopping him from dropping to his knees right then and there, lifting the helmet just enough to drag his tongue through your cunt. The thought alone made his cock pulse.

But then your hand reached back, twisting in the fabric covering his hip, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his knees slightly, notching himself at your entrance, and pushed inside.

The noise you let out was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there. He knew he wasn’t gonna last, and judging by the sounds you continued to make and the way you were bearing down on him, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, he didn’t think you were either. He set a fast pace, the space filling with the slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your moans echoing each move. Din’s gaze dropped, trained on the sight of his cock disappearing to you. Your hand flapped at his hip, scrabbling for purchase, and he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, groaning when you did the same.

He was right; you didn’t last long, and neither did he. Your entire body clenched as you came, one hand slamming against the table, nails digging deep into his wrist. It spurred his own orgasm, that coil at the base of his spine snapping, and he pulled out, cumming hard across the curve of your ass.

Silence settled over the both of you as you caught your breath. Din couldn’t help himself, rubbing his bare fingers over the expanse of your back, tracing over your spine. You arched a bit into his touch, making a satisfied noise before you lifted yourself off the table. You turned to him, leaned up to press a hot kiss to his bare throat. It made him shiver.

“Think we could do that again?” you murmured, lifting a finger and dragging it along the edge of his helmet. “Maybe you take all the metal off.”

Din cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched, already wanting a second round. “Helmet stays on.”

You stared at him a long moment, smile on your lips. “Helmet stays on.”

He kept close to you after that night. He rarely took bounties that took him to further reaches of the galaxy, loathe to admit that he was always within a few parsecs of your hangar. He brought you a long-distance commlink so he could tell you when he was coming back, so you could contact him if you ever needed him. He didn’t worry about you, per se; you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and he knew for a fact you knew how to shoot the blaster you kept holstered on your thigh when he wasn’t around.

But then the comm went quiet. He called, you didn’t answer. A lead weight formed in his stomach, and he pushed the Crest’s engines are fast as they’d go. Carefully, though — he wouldn’t dare ruin any of your handiwork.

When he landed in the hangar, the lights were all off. It didn’t help his worry, and it only grew worse as he sprinted off the Crest, heading straight for the shop door.

It was locked, but the lock was no match for his vibroblade and a bit of brute force. Inside, the space was empty. no trace of you left inside. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood smeared on the floor or the wall, but it didn’t ease his mind any. What if someone had come for you, spirited you away in the dead of night to some backwater planet? Dank farrik, what if someone had put out a bounty on you? His mind reeled, raced, chewed him up and spit him out.

He never meant to get so attached to you.

Din switched the settings on his visor, finally determining that all the footprints he could make out on the floor were your own. Then he saw it, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves in the kitchen. The commlink, perched precariously, just enough out of sight that no one else would think twice, but not Din.

He thumbed through the screen, saw the icon flashing with a recorded message. Your face lit up the screen instantly, and he stifled the way his stomach clenched. You looked…scared. Not hurt, not injured, but scared.

“Someone sold me out,” you said, your voice distorted and warped. “I can’t give you details. I can’t really tell you anything. Just know I’m going somewhere safe, and I’ll miss you, Mandalorian. Take care of yourself.”

Your eye were shiny as you reached out to cut the recording, and Din’s heart sank into his toes.

He put the commlink in his pocket, and returned to his ship.

He’d watched the message so many times the words were engraved into his brain. The change in your voice, the way you’d blinked harder the more you spoke. The way you paused in the middle, glanced over your shoulder with a shock of fear in your eyes.

And now here you are, standing in front of him, a pile of metal spilling out of a crate tucked beneath your arm, that same streak of fear in those big eyes. Eyes that have haunted him all these years. You nearly drop the crate as you crouch, your gaze zeroing in on the wound on his leg. “Maker, Mando, what the hell did you do?”

“Long story,” he groans out, wincing as you adjust his leg slightly, leaning to the side so you can get a better look. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reply, getting back to your feet, retrieving your crate of parts. “C’mon, let me clean you up. You look like hell.”

Din goes willingly, not sure what else to do, his mind racing from the combination of the Covert and you appearing out of nowhere. He lets you pull him slowly to his feet, tuck yourself under his arm. “Sweets,” he starts to protest, but you drag his arm around your shoulders.

“Shush,” you whisper, glancing around as you start to lead him in the opposite direction he’d been going. “Lean your weight on me.” He does as you say, nearly crumbling with relief. “There you go.”

The ache only worsens as you go, Din resisting the urge to lean his head against yours. When you finally turn him towards the door, he thinks he may topple over completely, but you’re quicker, producing a remote from your pocket. The door slides open, revealing the inside of a hangar, and you all but carry him through, discarding the crate of parts the moment you’re through, hitting the button again once you’re inside. The door slides shut, and Din lifts his head enough to look around. It looks nearly identical to your old hangar.

Then he hears a curious little beep, and looks down to see a tiny droid scurrying towards you. A BD-1 unit; he recognizes it from Peli’s, though yours is a little more rusty around the edges, the cleaner bits of metal painted grey and yellow. “Not now, Shrimp,” you grit, waving at the droid. It beeps loudly back at you, like an arguing child, and Din stifles his laugh.

“I thought you didn’t use droids,” he mumbles.

“He came with the hangar,” you reply, moving him across the hangar. Shrimp follows a few more steps before darting off, disappearing into a pile of crates. “Couldn’t bring myself to scrap him. Besides, not like he’s much help; tiny thing can’t even lift a socket wrench.”

He laughs out loud this time, and when you pull him into the shop, he laughs again, despite himself.

There’s a shelf of sweets above the workbench.

There’s no curtain between the shop and the apartment, instead another sliding door, another remote. Din lets out a low hum when he sees the apartment beyond. More than one room, furnished with actual furniture. It’s…nice. It’s really nice.

You deposit him on the couch, propping his leg up on the table in front of it. “Wait here,” you mumble, pointing a finger at him before disappearing into another room.

He doesn’t move, but hooks his fingers into the edge of his helmet and yanks it off, depositing it on the couch beside him. He sucks down a breath of unfiltered air.

You gasp as you walk back into the room, nearly dropping the silver case in your hand. “Mando, you—”

“Din,” he says instantly, reaching down, tugging his gloves off, tossing them onto the helmet. “My name is Din Djarin.”

“Din,” you repeat, slowly, like you’re tasting his name on your tongue. The corner of your mouth quirks. “Din…Djarin.”

He just nods. You approach him carefully, like you’re walking towards an injured animal instead of a man, the silver case clutched against your chest.

“Your helmet,” you start, gesturing vaguely. A memory sparks. He told you before — not in so many words — about his Creed, his upbringing. You’d asked, and he’d answered. It wasn’t information he gave willingly. The second time he had you, when you were sprawled out completely naked on that old futon, writhing and moaning beneath him, when he’d shed almost all his beskar, felt the warmth of your body pressed up against all of him. Afterward, when you’d both been sated for the time being, you’d peered up at him from your place on his chest. “Do you ever take it off?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep.

And he’d answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says now, eyes darting towards the curve of silver. “I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

“What?” you ask, your brow furrowing. He wants to reach out, let his thumb ride the space between your eyebrows, feel it smooth over as he kisses the spot. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” He trails off. Loaded question. What does it mean? Truly? “My name is Din Djarin.”

There’s still confusion etched into your features, but you don’t question him further. Your brow doesn’t loosen, and you perch on the table.

“What’s in the case?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the silver case still in your hands.

You look at him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over his face, over his features. Like you’re committing him to memory. He’s doing the same, almost scrutinizing your face, trying to remember what it looks like without the filter of his visor, what you truly look like, with no barriers in between.

He could taste you easily now.

The thought catches him off guard, the throb between his legs a welcome change to the pulsing of the wound on his thigh. The bacta the Covert had given him has worn off almost completely, and the pain is climbing.

“B-bacta shot,” you stutter out, shaking your head slightly as you flipped open the case. Your eyes moved to the wound on his leg, peering at the plates of beskar, the flight-suit, the discarded helmet on the couch. “That needs to be cleaned.”

Din just nods.

“Think you can walk to the bedroom?” you ask, shoving the silver case into the chest pocket of your jumpsuit. He recognizes it — the tear in the knee, the patch on your thigh. You fixed the zipper. “It’ll be easier.”

It’s slow-going, getting him back to his feet, shuffling carefully to the bedroom. You ask him if he wants to bring the helmet; he just shakes his head.

What does that mean?

Your bed is unmade, but Din barely notices. The scent of you is amplified in here, and he’s sucking down breaths like he’s been deprived of oxygen. You help him lower to the edge of the bed, and he starts on the armour. You sink to your knees in front of him, setting the bacta shot on the mattress beside him. He removes a pauldron with shaking fingers, and you’re right there to take it from him, your movements sure, setting the metal carefully onto the floor, waiting for the next piece.

“You disappeared,” he says, after more pieces of beskar have been removed, when you’ve moved onto his boots, setting them both carefully at your side.

Your brow had just smoothed out, and it pinches again. “I had to. I left you a message.”

Din pulls the zipper on his flight-suit, reaches into the pocket sewn into the lining, and produces the commlink. “I know.”

Your lips part as you look at the piece of metal, dwarfed by his hand. “You found it.”

“I did.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look back up at him through your lashes. “It wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” he says, and you reach for the bacta shot. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you reply, your voice bordering on stern. “Somebody sold me out.”

“I knew that much,” Din mumbles, and you shoot him a glare.

You sigh. “Let’s just say, there were some parts in the hangar that shouldn’t have been there, someone wasn’t happy with some work I did, and then next thing I knew, there were Imps on my tail. So I disappeared.”

“You could have told me where you were going.”

You shake your head. “They were listening. Tracking every message I sent out. I couldn’t let you get roped into it too.”

“You could have gone to the Guild,” he says. He’s too distracted to notice you pull the syringe out of the case. He doesn’t see the needle until you’re pushing it into his muscle above the wound. He grits his teeth audibly, hands curling hard around the edge of the mattress. “Dank farrik.”

“Sorry.”

“I would have come for you,” he says, breath hitching in his throat as you push the plunger down. It feels like his body has been flooded with ice water, his teeth chattering for a moment before the cold turns to a woozy sort of warmth that spreads through his chest like Corellian fire whiskey. He blinks hard, slow, one eye than the other.

“Can you stand?” He nods. Or thinks he does. “The bacta will help, but I need to put a bandage on that wound, at least.” More nodding. He’s vaguely aware of you draping his arms around your neck, your arms sliding around his waist to haul him up. He plants his feet beneath him, forces his weight over his ankles. His movements are slow, languid, like he’s moving through water. You manoeuvre one arm out of his flight-suit, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, until it settles around his hips. The metallic sound of the zipper seems to echo through his brain, and he knows you’re touching his waist, moving the fabric slowly over his injured thigh. But it doesn’t hurt.

All he can feel is you.

You sit him down again, work on pulling the suit off completely. Your hands are warm, soft, gentle against his bare legs, and he nearly buries his nose in the crown of your head when you bend down. Once the flight-suit has been removed, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt, you disappear again, and Din’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

Something cold presses against his thigh, and he flinches. “Does it hurt?” you ask instantly, and your voice is clear, then muffled, then clear again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Nuh-uh,” he slurs out. He hears you laugh, and the sound is like tinkling bells. He wants to hear it again. “Sweets.”

“Yes, Din?” Clear, muffled. His name is a song on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Mesh’la,” he mumbles, and then his eyes fall shut, his body slumps back, and he thinks you laugh again. He’s not quite sure; sleep is too busy yanking him under.

Din wakes to the sound of running water.

He’s disoriented, confused, not sure where he is until he pushes up on his elbows, looks around, drinks in the sight of your bedroom. The memory floods back; the Covert, then the hangar, taking the helmet off, the bacta shot that knocked him out.

But more importantly: you.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. How long was he out? He can’t be sure; there’s a window on the far side of the room, but time on Glavis is different, artificial nighttime and starlight instead of sun. His armour has been moved from the floor, neatly piled on a dresser against the wall, his boots on the floor underneath. His flight-suit is spread out on a worktable in the middle of the room, and he can see from his spot that you’ve tried to mend it, patching the spot the Darksaber had cut open with a square of fabric. It’s looks to be the same kind of material, but the colour is darker. Beneath the sheets, his leg is wrapped in cotton bandages, and there’s no sign of blood seeping to the surface.

His head turns in the direction of the noise of the water, and he pauses, waits for some kind of pain to prick through his body, but it never comes. He feels…good. Well-rested. His eyes follow the sound, and then he sees it.

The door to your bathroom is wide open, and from his spot on your bed, he can see directly into the shower. You’re inside, steam pouring over the top of the glass wall, and Din’s whole body jerks. He never forgot what you looked like naked, and it’s been a long time, but somehow it still feels like the first time. He can feel the blood rushing south, and his hands clench in the bedsheets.

He just stares, watching the water move over you, cascading down your spine, rolling in rivulets over your curves, following the lines of your body. He wants to follow them too, wants to read you like a map only he knows the key to.

Dank farrik, he’s missed you. He hadn’t realized how much.

The water shuts off, and he sees you reach for a towel, wiping your face first. He sinks back down on the bed, wondering if he should feign sleep, feeling like a kid caught doing something he’s not supposed to. But before he can— “You’re awake,” he hears you call, and looks back just as you wrap the towel around your middle. “I thought you’d be out for the night.”

Din coughs, shifting the blankets, trying to hide the tent that’s formed in his boxers. “You don’t close the door?” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You laugh. “I live alone,” you say, stepping out of the bathroom, walking towards the dresser his armour sits upon. “Force of habit.”

He clears his throat. Loudly. Pauses. “…it’s a nice view.”

Your tongue peeks between your lips as you walk over to him, still in just the towel. Your hair is still dripping, water droplets dotting your shoulders. You sink slowly onto the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he spits out, adjusting himself, making more room for you. “Really good.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I’m glad. You scared me, Man—” You catch yourself. “Din.”

A drop of water splashes down from your hair, starts a path down your upper arm, and Din reaches out, catching it on his finger. You watch his hand, lips softly parted, and he continues the path, drawing his hand up and down your skin, the backs of his knuckles against your bicep.

“I wondered where you were, all these years,” you whisper. There’s longing in your voice, he notices; the same feeling sits like a weight on his chest. “I never stopped wondering.”

“I’ll tell you sometime,” he whispers back. There’s something forming in the air between you, thick like the steam that still foams from the open bathroom. Din can almost taste it, and the thought he’d had in your living room resurfaces, making him twitch beneath the sheets. He could taste you so easily now. “It’s a long story.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I got nothing but time.”

So does he, he realizes. He’s without a ship, without his son, without anything anchoring him to one planet or another, to any sort of path. He’d been wandering already, trying to find the Covert, and now he is unmoored once more, yet somehow managed to find his way back to your hangar.

To your bed.

His hand stops chasing water droplets, and he sees your teeth sink into your lower lip. He lowers his palm until it rests on your bare thigh, and he can feel how your skin is still hot from the shower. “I never kissed you,” he rasps. “Before.”

Your head shakes slowly, and you turn towards him more fully. The towel is loose around your chest, your hand holding it in place, and he reaches for it, slowly uncurling your fingers from the fabric, until your grip falls slack, and the towel goes with it. “You should fix that,” you murmur.

“I’m out of practice.”

Your lips twitch again. “How bad?”

“Few decades,” he says softly. “Since before I swore the Creed.”

“You were a child.”

“It was a childish kiss.” He pauses, moves his hand again, brushes dripping locks of hair from your face. “I don’t want to kiss you like that.”

“Just…” Din leans in slightly, tilts his head to the side. “Do what feels natural.” You mirror his movement, and his eyes are glued to your mouth, to the way your lips stay parted even when you’re done speaking, the way your collar lifts with shuddered breaths. He sees your hands move the towel out of the corner of his eye, pulling the fabric away from your body completely until you’re bared to him, head to toe.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers. If not more.

The tip of his nose drags along the slope of yours, and his hand slides from your thigh to your hip. “I need you closer, Sweets,” he murmurs, and you nod against him, your foreheads tapping together. There’s a bit of shuffling, the blankets moved back, his tented boxers exposed but barely acknowledged as you climb into his lap. He revels in the way you look above him, your knees pressed either side of his hips. You’re hesitant to lower your weight onto his leg, and he guides you slow, giving you a quiet it’s okay as you settle onto him.

He doesn’t feel any pain; he just feels you.

Once you’re comfortable, your hands clutching at his shoulders, he adjusts his grip on you, palms skimming up your spine, mapping out your ribs and the curve of your ass. You make a quiet noise when he squeezes one cheek, the movement propelling you forward, making your hips roll into his, your core pushed against his hard cock. It makes him hiss with pleasure, and he slides one hand up to your hair, knotting his fingers in it and dragging your mouth down to his.

It’s not artful; he’s sure it doesn’t look pretty from the outside. There’s a lot of teeth and tongue, the fumble of hands as he tries to get you even closer. He’s sure you’ve been kissed better than this, and it makes his cheeks heat, makes him pull away, tucking his chin towards his chest. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, tilting his face back up towards you. “It’s okay. Just…follow my lead?” You say it like a question, your thumbs swiping over his face, through the smatter of facial hair along his jaw. “I got you.”

Din nods, lets his lips part as you cock your head to the side, leaning in slow. You kiss his top lip and then his bottom one, giving him just enough teeth that he wants more, wants it harder. He grips your hips as you move, but your kiss stays tender, slow, your tongue a wet heat against his own. He’d dreamed of this, of kissing you, and this one — albeit the second attempt — is everything he ever imagined.

Finally, your mouth grows more insistent. He’s hard as steel between his legs, and he can feel how hot you are, your wetness spreading across his boxers with every roll of your hips. Your mouth is sweet, almost sugary, and he finds himself chuckling against your lips, still trying to get you closer. Your stomach presses to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder, your tongue licking into his mouth.

“Sweets,” he grinds out when you start pulling at his undershirt, insistent to get it over his head. He lets you, and when you lower your head again, your mouth moves to his throat instead, and it makes him moan. “Mesh’la, wait, please, I need—”

You pull back instantly, your eyes bright with worry. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I want…” His eyes drop, tracing a path down your body, his throat growing dry when they land on the apex of your thighs, the glistening wetness he knows he’s caused. He lets one hand follow the path his eyes made, rubs his thumb over your clit. Your whole body shivers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go big, pupils blown with lust, and Din uses your momentary shock to his advantage. He’s stronger than you, perks of the bounty hunting lifestyle, and he flips you easily with one arm around your waist, his other hand hitching your thigh over his hip. You squeak as your head hits the pillows, clinging to him until you’re laid out beneath him.

It’s his turn to kiss his way down your throat, and he does, laving his tongue against your pulse as he makes his way down your body. He pauses at your chest, moves to the side to close his lips around your nipple. It makes your back arch, a high-pitched noise falling from your mouth, and he grins against you, giving you just the edge of his teeth before he’s wandering across your chest to give the other the same attention.

You’re a writhing mess by the time he’s settled between your thighs. He can’t keep his eyes still, raking over every inch of you, trying to remember every part. He can see the muscles in your legs jump as he traces his fingers over them, the more sensitive parts of your skin making you keen.

With your legs spread, he can see everything, and his mouth waters at the sight of your wet cunt, walls fluttering around nothing as he teases you with his fingers, collecting your wetness on the tips before drawing them to his mouth.

He moans at the taste. Of course, you’re sweet. Deliciously so.

“Din,” you groan out, propping yourself up on your elbows. He can feel you watching, and his gaze flicks up to yours as he drops his jaw, lowers his mouth to you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, one hand moving to knot in his hair, and Din moans into you. His tongue explodes with the taste of you, sending shocks down his spine, making his hips rolls into the mattress, seeking relief.

Just do what feels natural, your words echo in his head. So he does. He licks into you, wide stripes with the flat of his tongue, smaller kitten licks to your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, hooking his hands around your thighs, pulling himself deeper into you. And you guide him some, your hand in his hair an anchor of sorts, tugging slightly to get him right where you need him, a gasped oh fuck, right there! reaching his ears.

It’s not before long that you’re smacking at his shoulder, muffled moans on your lips with your teeth sunk into your lower one. He detaches from you, gets one more good look and lick in before he’s following your grip, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he makes his way back up your body.

“I need you inside me,” you slur, your hands reaching down, pushing at his boxers. His cock springs up against his stomach and he groans, the sound growing louder when you wrap your fingers around him. “Please, Din, I want to cum on your cock.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum right then and there, hearing your words turn filthy. And filthier still as he hauls himself over you, plants one elbow beside your head, looks between you, reaches down to line himself up and—

Freezes.

He can feel your eyes on his face, features pinched with anticipation. Your hands have found homes along his ribs, fingers tapping out rhythmless patterns. Hips lifting, you must see something in his expression, because you move a hand to his chin, lifting his eyes to yours again. “Din,” you say, and a shiver shoots down his spine again at the way his name sounds on your lips. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you need to.”

“No!” he nearly shouts, and feels himself flush, lowering himself slightly, careful not to drop all his weight on you. “No, that’s not what I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, understanding. You give a soft laugh. “I know you’re not a virgin, but if you don’t want to, it’s okay, I won’t say any—”

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off, petting his hand over your still-damp hair. “I want to. I want you. It’s just that…” He chews at his lip. “No one’s ever seen my face, while we…when I…”

Realization slides through your features. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to look,” you say quickly, skimming your knuckles along his cheek. “I can turn over, if you like, if that’s easier than—”

“No,” he says, not a shout this time, but firmer. “I want you to see, Sweets.” He drops his chin, emboldened by your softness, your understanding. He kisses you soundly. “I want to kiss you while you cum.” His words pull a silky noise from your throat.

He breaks the kiss as he takes himself in hand, pushes into your dripping cunt. You’re hot, clenching down on him instantly, arms draped around his neck as he lowers himself further, latches his lips to yours. He hitches one of your legs high on his hip, drives into you deep. He had you close on his tongue already, and he rolls his hips hard, catching something deep inside that makes your entire body seize.

“Yes, Din, please, oh gods, please, please, please,” you’re babbling against his lips, one hand pressed flat between his shoulders, the other knotted in the back of his hair. “Yes!”

Just as he said, he kisses you while you cum. He feels it pulse through your body, your limbs taut and then lax, still holding him close. Your hips chase his, cunt clenching tight as a vice, and Din’s not far behind you, pleasure lighting a fuse down his spine.

You pull your lips from his just as he starts to spill in you. Your hand moves to grip his chin, and you force his gaze to yours. He gasps and your mouth mirrors his, lips parted in a soft o, turning to a grin as he grinds into you, painting your insides as deep as he can go. It feels like an implosion, his bones rattled in his body, but then set on the softest bed of silk as he collapses into your chest. You hold him close, petting one hand through his hair, breathing deep and slow until his own evens out, matches yours, until your heartbeat syncs with his.

“Mesh’la?” he calls after a moment, cheek still pressed to your sternum.

“Yes, Din?” you reply, your voice scratchy as your nails start to drag along his scalp. His eyes are heavy.

“I missed you.”

He can hear the smile in your voice. “I missed you too.”

Din wakes alone in your bed again.

He thinks it’s the next morning — the rest of what he assume to be evening was spent in your bed, both of you naked and wrapped in each other. Again and again and again, he pulled pleasure from your body, let you pull it from his, found your bliss together. By the time you were both too tired to move, sprawled on the mattress, your head on his shoulder, you’d whispered, “You’re a good kisser, Din Djarin.” And then you were asleep, Din not too far behind.

He dresses quickly, boxers pulled back on, undershirt in his hand as he pads out of the room. He finds you standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of caf in your hands. The droid — Shrimp, he dimly recalls — is perched on the table, beeping out a message to you. You’re nodding along, blowing the steam off the top of your caf, and your eyes flick to him as he steps into the kitchen.

“You know Peli Motto?”

Din’s brow crinkles with confusion. “You know Peli?”

You scoff. “That woman taught me everything I know.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my hangar.”

Din just laughs, walking around the table. He slides an arm around your waist once he’s close enough, leans into kiss the side of your head. You lean into him. “Why are we talking about Peli?”

“She sent me a message,” you say, offering him your caf. He takes a sip, only feeling more confused. “Asking if I had any spare ships laying around my hangar. A replacement for her Mandalorian friend.”

Din balks. He hasn’t told you about the Crest. “Sweets…”

You step away from him, pressing a hand to his chest as your eyes go wide with realization. “Din Djarin, what did you do to that ship?”

“I didn’t—”

“Din.”

“It was Imps,” he says, trying to reach for your hip. “It wasn’t—”

“Where is the Razor Crest?”

He sighs heavily, and reaches out to take the cup of caf from you again. “Now it’s nothing but a scorch mark on the planet Tython. It was the Imps. They took my son.” The words are out before he can stop them.

Your eyes go so wide he’s worried they might pop out of your skull. “Your son?”

“It’s a long story.”

You pluck the caf out of his hands, walk around the table, pull out a chair and sink into it. “I got nothing but time.”

#sleepover saturday #my fics #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin headcanon #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian headcanon #the mandalorian fanfiction

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stargirlrchive · 1 year

Text

song chord ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: jake sully x female!reader but no use of y/n, arranged marriage, sunshine!jake x grumpy!reader, kind of lmao. angst, jealousy, mentions of death, feelings of insecurities. fluff. <3 i think that is all, pls lmk if i missed anything

word count: 5,112

tìyawn (n) - love

comments: first fic in a few months, first avatar fic ever <3 i really loved writing this, so i hope you all love it too, okay mwah mwah bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You had not wanted your night to end like this, angrily picking at your song chord as your mother whispered to the elders of her desire to have you wed, and to the Olo’eyktan none the less. Every stone, every achievement, you had earned felt as though it was taken from you. Ripped from your fingers just as you were starting to enjoy the fruits of your labors.

Toruk Makto sat across from your mother, listening closely as the elders proposed the idea of uniting your family. Joining forces to strengthen the clan, providing security and faith to the people he led.

You had wished so much more for yourself, to have your accomplishments be only your own. Not tied to a man you would never be equal to. All your life you had fought to be perfect, to be an accomplished warrior and fight for your people. Your eyes welled with tears as your fingers ran across the newest bead on your song chord. An iridescent pearl that your father had picked for you, that you held so dearly and were waiting for the perfect culminating moment in your life to add to your chord. Your Iknimaya was given the grace of bearing the pearl.

Your mind swirled with the prospect of being wed, being mated to a man you knew very little about, a man you had only met in passing. As much as you tried to find a way to fix this you couldn't, it felt like your thoughts were running a millions miles a minute and getting no answer. It was very clear that you had no way to object, your family would be so disappointed and the fear that nestled into your chest far outweighed the fear of sacrificing your future, it was almost debilitating. Either way you ended up losing.

You roughly wiped at your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, quietly counting to ten as you willed yourself to object, to tell them your future was yours and no one else's. You had lost so much due to the war with the sky-people, you did not want to lose this too. The words were on the tip of your tongue but your eyes locked onto Jake’s and his fear was clear as day within his eyes. It comforted you, a bit. Knowing you were not the only one silently suffering, but he was the last person you wanted to find comfort in.

He cleared his throat and the room was silenced instantly, causing a lump to form at your throat. “Before I agree I would like us to speak, privately.”

You nodded as he stood, following after him outside of the tent. He walked outside of the camp, towards the dark forest that was only illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the plants and small insects native to the land. Normally you would question why he was leading you away from everyone, but it felt as though all the energy was taken from you.

Not too far into the forest there was a clearing, a small pond with glowing fish. He grunted quietly as he lowered himself to sit, dipping his feet into the pond as he sighed quietly. None of you said anything for a while, you had stayed standing by the trees and looking up into the sky. Silently praying to Eywa to give you the strength to fulfill your duty with an open mind, and even an open heart.

He turned to look at you, watching as your brows furrowed even more as a shooting star passed by, “Do you mind sitting with me?”

A small huff left your lips but you did as he asked, slowly approaching him and keeping a sizeable distance between the two of you, dipping your feet into the water just as he had. “I did not expect to be mated, the thought had never really crossed my mind.”

You kept quiet, trying to focus on his words as you fought the tears trying to fall from your eyes, he took your silence as a sign to keep speaking. “I know a lot of the Na’vi still blame me for what happened, I do too.” His throat tightened, gruff with guilt and unshed tears balling up, and for the second time tonight you found comfort that you were both suffering. “I am trying to be better, and I will prove to you everyday that I am no longer loyal to the sky-people. Believe me, the Clan’s best interest is my main priority and I would never again willingly do something to harm them.”

Silence.

“I know it is not ideal, having to marry a skxawng like me, but I would like to continue the engagement if you wish.”

You sighed quietly and tucked your knees in, resting your arms on them to lay your head gently, “I do not blame you.”

He nodded and averted his eyes to the pond, not believing your words, “I-I just did not picture my life to be this way. After my father died I tried so hard to accomplish everything he wanted for me, that is why it took me time to complete my Iknimaya, I wanted everything to be perfect.” His ears twitched as he listened to you.

“I just do not know if this is what he would have wanted for me.” Your last words were whispered quietly, almost as if you did not want him to hear.

“I fear everything I have ever accomplished will be stripped from me, and I will just be seen as Toruk Makto’s wife. Expected to be the next Tsahik and I can barely interpret the will of Eywa for myself, how am I expected to do so for the rest of the clan?”

He laughed loudly, as if what you said was the funniest thing in the world. As if your worries were comical and before you could stop yourself you hissed in his direction, making your way to stand up. “I’m sorry-wait I’m sorry-you made me laugh but I did not mean to offend you.”

You stopped yourself from leaving, “See what I mean? Skxawng.”

Your lips barely twitched at the end and you hoped he hadn’t caught it. He did.

“I am a warrior JakeSully, I will not sit back and watch the people fight. I will be front line.”

He smiled at your words, “I would also like to get to know you better, no wedding within the next two-three weeks, yes?”

He leaned back on his arms and looked up at the night sky, millions of tiny stars scattered all across you. “Ok, no wedding soon.”

He sent you a warm smile and it eased the gnawing feeling in your chest, “One final request, I wish to be seen as your equal, taken into consideration when it comes to decisions of the clan, not just your wife but your partner.”

His silence scared you, fearful of what would leave his mouth, “That is all I want.”

A small smile made its way onto your features, feeling far more content then how you expected this night to go.

You were both silent for a long time, just enjoying the beautiful forest of Pandora, “I must go, it is well past Eclipse and my mother will be worried.”

Jake nodded and stood up, leaning his arm forward to help you too. You both silently made your way through the short distance back to the camp, quickly making your way to your tent. You were about to go in, without sparing him another look but his hand reached for your forearm to stop you from walking, “We are in this together, from here on out it is you and me. I am not taking this lightly and-and I will be your friend through all of this.”

Your eyes welled with tears again, having to come to terms with your future in those few seconds as you looked up into his golden eyes. “Thank you, I will try my best too.”

You sent him a small smile before moving into your tent, hoping to sleep away the still overwhelming fear of having no control of your life.

You blinked the sleep away from the night before, trying to relax the nauseating feeling that nestled in your stomach as you recalled the events of last night. Why had you so willingly opened up to JakeSully, why?

You did not know him, and from the whispers that followed him around you were one of the few Na’vi women that did not want to. You had opened up some of your deepest concerns last night, and for the life of you, you didn’t know why. You soothingly rubbed the beads of your song chord, trying to ground yourself and push the tears down that seemed to flow like a never ending river.

Your ears twitched gently as you heard movement outside of your tent, “Who is there?”

Someone cleared their throat as you sat up, fixing your chest beads and loin cloth on your way to stand up. “It’s Jake, um-I wanted to spend some time with you. As friends do.”

You tsk’ed lowly, slowly making your way towards the opening of the tent, head peeking out only to be met with a gentle smile on the Toruk Makto’s face. You refrained from rolling your eyes at the tall man, going back into your tent but leaving it open so he could follow. “Give me a few minutes and I will be ready.”

He hummed quietly as he stepped in, eyes jumping from corner to corner of your tent. Curiously walking towards a make-shift shelf, filled from top to bottom with your trinkets. From your first arrow, to dried flowers and pretty stones you had collected since you were a child. You observed him, feeling your heart jump to your throat as he reached to pick something up. Feeling exposed to him in a way you couldn’t describe.

Your mind eased as he gently picked up the only picture you had on there, one that Grace had taken of your mother and father that she gifted you on a random day during her classes. “My condolences for your father, I never got to meet him.”

You said nothing as you continued to ready yourself, turning your back to him and making sure he was still occupied with the shelf before changing quickly, adjusting the straps on the cloth that fell on your hips as he turned towards you. “What will we be doing, JakeSully?”

His nose twitched softly at his full name.

“Is it your hunting or training day?”

You shook your head no, “Perfect, let’s go for a ride.”

Your eyes lit up softly, anytime you got to spend with your Ikran was so special to you, your sweet Pey’lal. Following behind him happily as he threaded through the forest where the claimed Ikran’s rested. Your tongue instinctively started clicking once you made it to the large tree, looking towards the sky for a large blur of purple and blue.

There was a large gust of wind and a powerful thud as Pey’lal landed gracefully in front of you, nuzzling her head against your cheek as you laughed happily. “My sweet girl, I have missed you.”

You cooed happily as she made happy clicking noises at the attention you were giving her, Jake clearing his throat made you snap out of your happy bubble. Pey’lal looked up as if just noticing him for the first time, moving her head to the side in question, flapping her wings as a warning sign. Your hand reached out to soothe her, letting her know to stand down. She relaxed instantly. “This is Pey’lal, my Ikran. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Your smile reached your eyes for the first time and Jake nodded, “This is Bob.” He patted his Ikran’s head who huffed in slight annoyance and it caused a laugh to ripple from your throat, “Bob?”

Jake’s face flared as his ears twitched, “I think it fits him, he is quite goofy.”

“If you say so, JakeSully.”

There was a beat of silence before you connected your queue to Pey’lal’s, jumping smoothly onto her back, “Well, let’s get to flying.”

In the next instant you were off, looking back momentarily only to see Jake jumping onto his Ikran to catch up.

It had been several weeks since Jake had taken you out to fly, or out on a date as he called it. But ever since then it was as if he was glued to your hip, accompanying you even when it was not necessary. Like when you went to pick fruit or went hunting, Pey’lal was even growing accustomed to him being around. Just yesterday she nuzzled her head against his chest as he called out for Bob, something she had only ever done with you.

You had tried to be annoyed with him, wanting to keep him as far away from you as possible but he had slowly, very slowly, started to crack the walls you had built up and began staking claim.

Like even now, as he sat across from you and smiled at your annoyance towards him, your tail swishing in frustration. “You are Olo'eyktan and cannot even pronounce basic words.”

You tsk’ed quietly as he leaned back on his arms, not focusing on what you were saying. He laughed deeply, one that you could tell started in his chest, “I cannot focus today.”

“You can never focus.”

“You are distracting me.”

Your brows furrowed together, confusion evident on your face. Another laugh left his throat, “I do not like being laughed at, JakeSully.”

“I am not laughing at you.” It continued, the sound warming your chest as you feigned being offended, purposely dropping your ears, “I just think you are so-so-interesting.”

You huffed and moved away from him, “You really know how to woo me.”

His face dropped and you bit back the smile that threatened to crack across your face, tucking your tail away as he scooted closer to you, “I meant that in a good way-I did not want to offend you.”

You turned your face to him, the laugh escaped you as soon as your eyes locked onto his, face full of concern, “I was only kidding you Skxawng. I think you are interesting too.”

He pushed your shoulder with his own, smiling so hard his cheeks felt sore.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, and in the next instant it hit you just how close he was, the side of his thigh pressed against yours and you flushed deeply. Ears twitching as you tried to stop your body from going rigid against his.

Jake's finger twitched softly as he contemplated reaching for your hand, he wouldn’t put it past you to flick him with your tail if he tried to, but even still he wanted to know how your hands would feel against his.

Your face was turned away from him, clearly trying not to face him and he swore you knew what he was up to, your fingers twitched softly as it rested on your leg. Before he could think about it too much he slipped his hand under your own, tangling his fingers with yours and closing, rubbing gently along your knuckles.

Your hand had tensed as he held it, still avoiding his gaze and he almost retracted but slowly your fingers relaxed into his, his tail swished softly in excitement as you folded your fingers to hold his hand.

“Your hands are sweaty, Toruk Makto.”

He refrained from laughing, “Yeah well-you make me nervous. One wrong move and I know it will earn me a tail flick to the head.”

You laughed at his words and turned to him, cheeks still blazing as he got a good look at you. Your cheeks were a soft purple and a smile that reached all the way to your eyes.

“Do not tempt me.”

Your tail gently flicked against his arm and he felt a warm sensation start in his belly and make its way up to his chest, causing goosebumps to rise all across his arms.

After a beat of silence he began speaking again, “So, how do you say it? Kalultal?”

“No-no! Kelutral!”

The weeks had started to bleed into each other the more time you spent with Jake. Your eyes instinctively looked through the sea of Na’vi as you searched for him, a proud smile on your face as you lugged around the Hexapede you had hunted not too long ago.

You had noticed him a couple of feet away, his back towards you and there was an instant smile that made its way to your face, trying to get to him faster. Your eyes were taking in his back, a small heat rising to your cheeks as you let your stare run across his shoulders and down to his arms.

You opened your mouth to call out for him but you clamped up almost instantly, ears twitching in question as his head was thrown back and a loud laugh left his lips. Your eyes finally shifted to who was in front of him and felt a sting begin to settle in your stomach. It was Neytiri.

They were talking animatedly between each other, laughing and you were not sure why it left such a bitter taste in your mouth. Cheeks now flushed but for an entirely different reason, anger bubbled in your chest. You tried to wrack your brain for what it could be, you had always gotten along with Neytiri so why had you started to feel a sense of insecurity in yourself as you noticed how easy it was for them to get along? How easy it had been for them since the beginning.

The realization scared you even more so when you came to the conclusion that it was jealousy, you had started to feel some sort of claim to the Toruk Makto and it hurt. You felt so stupid, how could you think he wanted you when Neytiri had been a part of his life from the moment he was introduced to the clan? She had shown him the in’s and out’s, he had fallen in love with your people, with your home, through her.

You felt a lump rise to your throat as you handed off the Hexapede to be skinned for the feast later in the evening, rushing past the crowd of people behind you. You wanted to be far away from him, from her, from everyone. Your ears had turned inward and all you could hear was the beating of your heart. It came in loud thuds, deep and sorrowful.

You had made it towards your tent, not noticing that Jake had clocked you dropping the animal off. He had called you several times which you had not heard. He had noticed how your shoulders were tensed, a look so unfamiliar to him on your face and he knew something was wrong. His fingers tangled around your forearm before you slipped into your tent, you jolted back against his chest showing him just how distracted you were.

Jake called your name softly and his brows furrowed together as you refused to look at him. “Is everything alright?”

You hissed in his direction and yanked your forearm from his grip, Jake stepped back in astonishment as he took in the anger swirling in your eyes. “Leave me alone, JakeSully.”

“Woah-what? Did I-what’s wrong?”

You ignored him and walked into your tent, pacing the perimeters as you tried to keep the emotions from erupting into something uglier. You felt like an open wound and hated that it was caused by the man who only a few months ago you wanted nothing to do with. Your tent was opened as Jake stepped in, confusion evident in his face.

Your angry haze landed on him, his hands up in surrender trying to not overwhelm you as he neared you, “I do not want you near me, Toruk Makto. Just go!”

“I am just trying to figure out what’s wrong, yeah? Let me help.”

“You are the last person I would want help from, get out!”

Your hands had reached up to push at his chest and even Jake knew you were going easy on him, but the pushes were persistent. The frustration more evident each time your palms landed on his chest.

His hands reached out to grab at your wrist, the beads of your song chord digging gently into your skin. Your wrist felt like they were on fire at his touch and felt the anger surge through your body all over again. Hands wriggling angrily against his as he stepped closer, concern clear as day on his features but you could not bring yourself to care. All your deepest insecurities rearing their ugly head at you, a sob threatening to escape from your throat as an uncomfortable feeling settled into your stomach. A feeling that you would not be enough, not for your family, not for Jake, not for the clan.

Your anger peaked, a scream was ready to erupt from your throat as Jake was not letting your wrist go, he was still trying to calm you down. You ripped your wrist from his grip in a whip of anger and felt all the air leave you at once. Your song chord had tangled along the leather braided clasps on Jake's wrist and ripped from yours, the beads falling like a waterfall all around the two of you. “No-no-no!”

Your eyes and hands frantically searched around for the pearl your father had given you, not locating it anywhere and a small whimper left your mouth as the tears flowed from your eyes and down to your neck.

Jake was on his hands and knees instantly as you wept, helping you gather the stones that had been placed on your chord, “Please just leave, Jake! Go with Neytiri and leave me alone.”

Your voice was raw with emotion and it made his heart clench, his ears twitched in confusion but he said nothing as he continued to gather all the beads he saw, an uncomfortable sting making its way to his wrist.

He could tell your holding back from sobbing, you had folded into yourself after all the stones were gathered, your back shaking from your tears. “I will help you build it back, I will weave the chord with you. I am so sorry.”

His hand had reached out to your shoulders pulling you up against him and into his chest, there was a strain on his wrist at the awkward way it bent causing a low hiss to fall from his lips. His hand settled on your head, rubbing soothingly as he felt you calm in his arms, a pinch each time his hand dragged forward but he didn’t care. “Will you let me help you?”

You whimpered quietly as you melted into his embrace, “There is no point.”

“What do you mean, tìyawn?”

You felt your heart flutter at the affectionate name, but your heart felt heavy as you realized you had lost the pearl your father had gifted you, “I lost the pearl for my Iknimaya. It was a pearl my father had gifted me, it meant so much to me and-and I waited for something that felt worthy of carrying the stone and now I have lost it. I no longer want a song chord.”

You broke out into another fit of tears, only this time wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck to find solace in him, and he comforted as best he could, wrapping his arms around you as his fingers traced your back to calm you down once again.

He felt the pinch against his wrist again, an irritation settling softly in his chest at the persistent sting. He pulled his arms closer to you so one rested on your hip while the other tried to unclamp the leather bracelets that sat on his wrist. When the bracelet was off he felt instant relief, his ears twitching at the sound of a pebble landing on the floor. He swore a silent prayer to Eywa fell from his lips as his eyes locked onto the pearl. It was iridescent and had small scratches since you wore your song chord almost everywhere. His fingers reached for the stone, picking it up gently as if he feared it would break under the weight of his fingers. “Is this it?”

Your head lifted from his chest, looking into his palm and a watery laugh left your throat, still thick with emotion as you reached out for it. You looked up into Jake’s eyes and it seemed like hundreds of tears kept flowing from your eyes, Jake's lips were turned downwards as he rubbed at your cheeks, trying to erase the evidence of your sadness. He hated it, he hated seeing you hurting and in that instant swore that he would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you happy.

“I do not like knowing you are sad.”

Your emotions consumed you once again as you stared up at him, eyes flickering to his lips for a brief second. Sniffling softly you leaned your face closer to him, pressing your forehead against his and you let your eyes flutter closed. You could not bear to look at him, he consumed you in every way and the clarity hit you like a ton of bricks. You were in love.

You let your lips fall against his in a quick motion, it was soft even though it only lasted a few seconds. When you pulled back his eyes were closed, cheeks a deep purple, ears twinging pink as he reeled from having your lips on his. “I am no longer sad, Jake. Just sorry, and embarrassed for how I behaved.”

He was all over you in the next instant, lips pressing into yours almost bruisingly as if he tried to forever engrain the feeling of your lips on his. Hands gripped at your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him and a small whine left your mouth. He used the gap between your lips to his advantage as he gently slipped his tongue, almost as if asking for permission. Your teeth softly bit down on the tip of his tongue, soothing it by sliding your own across his. He felt the groan come from the center of his chest, he felt all of you as he wrapped pulled you in closer.

You were the first to pull away, Jake’s lips chasing after your own as you sucked in a long breath, trying to fill your lungs with as much air as possible. You turned from him slightly and placed the pearl with your other stones, turning back to him as your eyes scanned all across his face. “I only want you, my tìyawn. No one else, do you understand me?”

You nodded and let your forehead fall against his again, whispering the words that told him just how you felt, “Oel ngati kameie.”

A laugh rippled from his throat and he placed a kiss to your cheek, “Oel”, a kiss to your nose, “Ngati”, a kiss to your lips, “Kameie”.

You finally pulled away from him, looking at the beads that Jake had gathered for you. “So you will help me?”

He nodded happily, watching your every move as you stood up, picking up a small box that was on your shelf. He couldn't stop the smile that fell on his lips as your tail switched softly, contemplating what material you wanted to hold your beads. You settled on a weaved tan thread, sitting back down next to Jake and you hummed quietly, “You do not have one right, Ma’Jake?”

Jake swore his heart was going to fall out of his chest, “No I do not-no one ever told me to make it so I did not think to do it.”

“You must make one now, we sing the song chord to remember. Each bead is a story in our life.”

Your fingers brushed Jake’s as you handed over the extra piece of string for him to use, placing the box in between the two of you, full of beads, some simpler than others but just as beautiful. The two of you settled into a comfort silence, Jake pausing on occasion to think on certain events that were important enough to add to his chord, digging his fingers into the box.

You had finished your chord quickly, knowing it by memory and Jake noticed you had not added any new beads, until the last one, that one was new.

It was a soft shade of blue, it stood out beautifully against the majority of white and brown of it. “That is new.”

His fingers ran across your song chord, it was so much more intricate than his, showing just how proud you should be of yourself, now a constant reminder how he will always be proud of you. “It is for you, Toruk Makto.”

You flushed and shied away from him as his ears twitched, pulling his own chord out to share it with you, explaining what each one meant. When he reached the last stone, it was a deep red, one that shined if light reflected on, “This one-It’s for you. My tìyawn.”

You reached for his hand and wrapped the chord twice around his wrist, “I am ready, to be mated.”

He let his fingers trace your palm, going over each line and scar, even tracing over the small callouses the tips of your finger had accumulated from training with your arrow. He was smiling so hard, cheeks hurting as he leaned over to pick up your own chord and wrap it around your wrist, it looped three times. “I want a huge ceremony, with a huge feast and lots of music and dancing.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as you tried to stop the laughter that bubbled at your throat, “I do not need such a big fuss over me, Ma’Jake.”

He brought you even closer to him, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he announced, “But I do, I want all of the Omaticaya clan to know I am mated to you. Forever you and me.”

Another burst of warmth fell over you, pressing a kiss to his lips before you moved to sit against him, your back pressed firmly to his chest as his arms wrapped around your frame, “Now tell me, what do the other beads represent?”

4K notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

silk and rope

the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!

some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!

word count: 10.6k

content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space

"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."

Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.

In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.

Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.

Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.

Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.

And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming.

But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.

"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"

That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door.

"Thanks. You can go now."

With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."

"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."

The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.

. . .

If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.

And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening.

He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way.

So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out.

Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand.

Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between.

But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off.

"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.

"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."

She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass.

"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"

With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"

He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed.

"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."

Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."

"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."

She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly.

"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?"

Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?"

He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.

"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."

Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands.

"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally.

"Kind of."

"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.

"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."

Dominant?

The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.

"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."

Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.

Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent.

It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific.

"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely.

"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."

She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.

"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."

Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."

It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity.

She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.

"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."

"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.

"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."

Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks.

"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."

She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."

"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."

Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday.

"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."

"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"

"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core.

"Y/N, do you have my number?"

She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.

"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"

Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.

"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out."

She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin.

"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"

Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face.

"N-no. I'm fine."

He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."

"I won't. I promise."

Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."

She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Harry."

20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.

. . .

Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened.

He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird.

Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom.

The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle.

He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.

And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

From: Y/N Y/L/N

hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it

im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)

Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite.

His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.

Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?

She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.

ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol

Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.

That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?

She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N.

Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in.

As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her.

So why isn't he scared?

. . .

"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.

"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."

She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table.

"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."

"Oh, you found someone already?"

"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."

Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth.

"I don't think you want that." she says gently.

"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."

Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."

She nods.

"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"

"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."

"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."

Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.

"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened.

"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous.

"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that."

"Okay."

She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to.

"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."

Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked.

"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"

"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."

"What sexual scenarios put you there?"

She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now.

"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."

Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.

"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"

"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."

"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."

Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays.

She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special.

It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge.

"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes.

Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."

"Mhm."

"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."

Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach.

"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."

Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—

"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."

She nods.

"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."

Again, she nods.

"Say 'thank you', Y/N."

"Thank you, daddy."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."

. . .

The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming.

It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.

Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body.

Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he?

After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.

"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"

"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."

Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers.

"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?"

"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."

A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."

Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."

She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."

"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"

She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.

"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle."

"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."

He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.

"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."

He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him.

"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."

She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.

She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.

"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."

Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen.

"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"

She nods, her eyes round.

"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"

Again, she nods.

"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?"

This time, she shakes her head.

"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows.

"Wanna play now, please."

"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."

Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch.

"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?"

Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear.

"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip.

"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything."

Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder.

"Would you... daddy, I..."

Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her.

"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly.

She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?"

Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork.

"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?"

She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."

He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.

"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table.

"Mhm. Playtime now?"

He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."

Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."

He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day.

He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks.

"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.

It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her.

"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?"

She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.

"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"

Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow.

He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm.

"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."

Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever.

So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules.

"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"

Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green."

"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"

"Either one, daddy. Green for both."

Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"

"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.

"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?"

"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face.

"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched."

She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it.

"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"

Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself.

"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."

She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice.

A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.

After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.

"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"

Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.

"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."

"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth.

"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"

She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it.

"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."

"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."

It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.

He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing.

With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound.

"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."

"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"

"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."

"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."

She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.

"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed.

So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.

"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.

"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"

In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole.

"Go ahead."

He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.

As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.

Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.

"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.

"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"

"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."

She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.

Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.

"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee.

"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."

He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers.

"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"

Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.

"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit.

"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.

"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?"

She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity.

Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.

She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again.

"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"

"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out.

She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."

She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.

"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."

"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."

She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."

"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."

"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin.

"Mhm."

"What is it?"

"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."

Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.

"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"

"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."

He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."

Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock.

"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.

"Daddy's polite girl."

If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off.

"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."

Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry.

When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan.

When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer.

"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."

"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."

"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"

"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."

"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"

Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth.

"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"

She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"

"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."

She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can.

"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."

She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum.

"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now."

"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes.

"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."

She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain.

"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?"

Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands.

Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether.

He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet.

"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.

They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same.

#I will proof read this when I’m not so burnt out !#writing #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #Harry styles angst #harry styles x you #Harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #one direction

1K notes · View notes

evielmostdefinitely · 4 months

Note

pls i NEED a fic of corio and readers first time together im on my knees 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

first fall of snow |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: capitol!reader and coriolanus' first time.

contains: smut, nothing graphic bc i wanted it to be fluffy. dark-ish coriolanus. consensual. 18+.

“And as for the Academy,” You fell into step with Coriolanus, his arm out for you to politely clutch, the fallen snow crunching beneath your heels. “What do you wish to do after?”

Coriolanus tilted his head back, brows creasing in thought. “I’d like to continue my work with Dr. Gaul.” He hummed, a firm grip on your arm that had you swooning. “Longterm, I’d like to be President.”

“Ooh,” You grinned, eyes sparkling under the lights of the city. Coriolanus swallowed down the heat he felt rising in his throat. “President Snow, that certainly has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Coryo smiled softly.

“I think that’s wonderful, Coriolanus.” You matched his smile, a dreamy look in your eye that Coryo was growing very fond of each time he saw it. “Very ambitious. I like that in a man.”

“Do you?” Coriolanus laughed, head tilting down towards you. The proper dating had gone to flirtatious banter quickly. It felt perfect, far too perfect, beyond what his own planning and careful meddling could even design.

“I love it.” You grinned, pausing for a beat as he opened the door to your building, holding the door for you to slip in before his hand found the small of your back. It was polite, really, so innocent and respectable, the placement of his hand. Still, it made your heart flutter, burst with excitement.

Your own finger reached for the button of the elevator, turning to meet Coriolanus’ dazzling eyes. “I love a man who knows what he wants.”

His throat bobbed, you grinned at the flustered blush creeping out from under his collar. He was the vision of perfection, prim and proper, so put together- you wanted to ravish him. Mess that perfect hair up, tug at it and feel it between your fingers.

The ding of your elevator trilled, pulling Coriolanus’ attention away from you. “Well, then,” Your heart skipped at his words. “I’m glad I can impress you, Miss Duke.” His hand reached for your cheek, pulling you in for a rather sloppy smooch. Still respectful, cautious of the potential onlookers.

You were swooning when he pulled away, head spinning with excitement, his hand still pressed to your warm cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Your heart sunk at his words, spiraling down further and further. You blinked at him, face falling.

“Yes?” Coriolanus’ brows creased, head tilting softly to the side. “Tomorrow? Or do you have plans, darling?”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “N-No, I will see you tomorrow.” You forced a smile, stepping towards the elevator. Of course he would act this way, it was the proper thing to do. You were a fool for thinking otherwise.

“Coriolanus,” You called, heel stopping the elevator tracks from closing. Those icy blues met your gaze, melting you from the inside out. Your body covered in a blush, maybe from adrenaline, maybe from him.

“Would-Would you,” You swallowed your racing heart, hands fidgeting with your small bag. “Won’t you come up.” You motioned to the elevator. “Have a cup of tea. Stay for a while.”

Coriolanus grinned, a toothy smile that made your heart leap. “If you insist.” He muttered, stepping in behind you, his hand finding its place back on your spine when you pressed the button, trying to dull your fidgety excitement that raced through your veins.

The penthouse was everything Coriolanus thought it would be, and more. Extravagant, efficient, top of the line in every way. So modern yet so… comforting. Something so familiar, and it smelled of you.

The roses still in a vase from last night's date. Coriolanus always brought you a bouquet on your Thursday evening dinners, a part of him to take with you and remember him throughout the week.

He settled into a cushioned arm chair while you fixed the tea, chatting lightly, pretending not to watch him take in your small space. “How long have you lived here?” Coriolanus asked.

“Not long.” You shrugged, looking at him over your shoulder. “Less than a year. My father gave it to me when I started my job after the Academy, so I could have a place of my very own. Some independence.”

“Independence.” Coriolanus nodded. “That must be nice. To have… To have this place of your own, I mean.” His fists clenched, clammy and hesitant. “I still live with my family.”

“That must be nice.” You repeated, pulling the small tea cups out of the cupboard. “I miss my family. Miss my mother. It gets lonely up here all alone.” You turned, leaning against the counter, lashes batting towards him.

Coriolanus was sure his heart had stopped beating, the sultry pout you gave him, like you were trying to fluster him. He wasn’t entirely convinced that you weren’t.

“Does it?” Coriolanus swallowed around the growing lump in his throat, hands moving as nonchalantly as he could to lay them in his lap.

You nodded, slow steps, smooth and calculated across the marble, over the fur rug. “Very lonely. Especially at night.” You sighed, lolling your head to the side. “No one here to keep me company.”

Coriolanus tried to keep his composure, remain calm and cool, though his heart hammered in his ears with a thrill. “Well, I’m here now.” He said confidently, chin tilting to look up at you. “I’ll keep you company tonight. If you’ll have me.”

Your lips curled, a triumphant grin spreading across your features, eyes lighting with delight. Coriolanus was relieved, he’d answered correctly. You moved towards him, his hands finding your waist easily, nearly instinctively as you sunk into his lap straddling his wide thighs. Your fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

Coryo’s hands found your hips, your ass, squeezing and rubbing over the flesh he’d been longing to touch for so long. Oh, how you’d tormented him. Your body consuming his thoughts at all hours of the night, his hand snaking under his pajama pants as he thought of you, fantasized about what you might look like under those pretty dresses- what you might taste like. He was about to find out.

When you dropped to your knees, a sly smile far too salacious than he was expecting, pumping his shaft in your soft hands. Coriolanus’ head tipped back, sweat beading at his hairline when you took him in your mouth, a little unsure, gagging at the intrusion of him- he was sure he’d be succumbing to you far too easily.

“Coriolanus, oh!” You mewled, back arching off the edge of the bed. You’d gotten your wish, hands tangled through his blonde curls, tugging them out of place and pulling him closer and closer to you.

Coryo’s tongue lapping at your cunt, swirling over your clit. You’d tasted even better than he could have imagined. He was surprised at how easily your mind numbed when he’d lick you between your legs. How pliant and sweet, totally dependent and reliant on him, eyes rounding at him for guidance and instruction- he’d remember that for the future.

He finally pushed into you, slowly, his hands under your knees, kissing your shin when you whined at the stretch, the pain of fitting him inside of you. He was gentle, the most gentle and delicate he’d ever be with you again. Cautious like you were a flower, one that could snap and break if he handled you the wrong way.

Soft grunts muffled into your skin, your hands cradling him closer to you, chest to chest, nose to nose, bodies moving in stuttered rhythm together for the first time.

669 notes · View notes

vanilladove · 4 months

Text

~ get free (3/3)

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: smut w/ plot + dark content; 18+ only pls!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: smut/nsfw, kidnapping, mentions of abuse + death, manipulation, violence, unhealthy relationships, infidelity (revenge hehe), slightly yandere!nikolai, dubious consent, husband yapping🤓

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've been kidnapped by your patient and taken to meet "dos" and another member of the doa. you notice someone familiar and are forced to make a quick decision. will you free yourself or stay in another man's cage? ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.6k

Your head was pounding and your eyelids felt heavy, along with the intense soreness coursing through your body, especially on the left side of your waist. Trying to open your eyes through the blinding light, you could barely make out two figures in front of you--they looked like they were talking, so you tried to listen to the warped voices as much as you could with the remaining consciousness you could muster.

"Nikolai, I've meaning to ask you..." A deep, disinterested voice inquired. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"That? Don't be rude, Dos! This is Dove, I wrote to you about her in our letters, remember?" You could make out Nikolai's whines.

"Yes, but what use does she have for the Decay of Angels? If she's just another plaything, then she doesn't belong at the base. Besides, that woman is just another liability."

Nikolai sighed annoyedly, "She's my lover. I intend to keep her with me. I'm sure we can find a way for her to contribute later," he smirked, "I guess you wouldn't understand though...When's the last time you felt the touch of a woman, anyways?

You heard Dos scoff loudly at Nikolai's remark, "Fine, do what you like with her. Also, Sigma and I have finished getting information out of the target, so he's ready for disposal in the basement. He was a real pain to deal with."

Nikolai giggled at that, joking more with Dos. The exhaustion was taking over you again, though, so you couldn't keep yourself awake to glean anymore information from their conversation.

You heard the two men's voices fade out into the background as sleep overtook you once again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

When you finally woke up, it was dim. You winced as you got up and took in your surroundings: the silk sheets you were under, a large bed, a spacious gothic-style room, cream curtains covering tall windows, and cuddled next to you...Nikolai?

You flinched lightly when you looked down to see his eyes staring directly into yours. He got up slowly and pulled you into his strong arms, moving the stray hairs--which had been mysteriously braided--out of your face and kissing your forehead lovingly. "How are you feeling, myla? Did some of the pain go away?"

You blushed as you felt his warm chest against you. He was shirtless, and all of the passionate hickeys you'd given him were exposed. Nikolai smirked cheekily when you stared at them for too long and watched your blush deepen when you realized you were wearing his white button up with nothing underneath. You looked so cute in the oversized shirt, so his.

Confusion coming back to you, you pulled away a bit, "Wait, Nikolai, where are we?" You frowned, last remembering being in the bath house, "The asylum...what happened?"

A sigh left his lips as he placed your head on his shoulder, "Well, after we had sex in the tub--by the way, you're pretty good at riding--" heat rose in your cheeks from his dirty comment, "back up was on their way and I didn't have enough time to explain things, so I needed to subdue you quickly for us to escape. That was why I had to use the tranquilizer on you. Sorry, you must've been shocked..." Nikolai stroked your hair softly, but you pulled back in bewilderment, staring into his softened eyes.

"Wait, why couldn't you just tell me that before? And how did you escape so fast? Where is this pl--" Nikolai cut you off suddenly, dramatically pressing a finger to your lips, "This is the Decay of Angel's temporary base...we're pretty far from the asylum and ran away like you wanted. I couldn't tell you anything because we needed to know if we could trust you." You tried to object at that, but your ex-patient only pushed his finger further to silence you. "And how we got here? Hmmm..." he paused to giggle manically, "Well, dove, that's a secret I can't tell yet...I'm a jester after all. I have tricks up my sleeve that I can't reveal to the audience--even to pretty girls like you~" You groaned as he replaced his finger with his lips and peppered kisses all over your flustered face.

He clearly wasn't telling you everything, but you didn't have any choice but to believe him. After all, you were still in one piece and out of the asylum, and he'd at least taken you to a nice place with silk sheets and roses. Nikolai wouldn't lie to you or harm you without a good reason, would he?

You pouted, "Fine, I believe you..." Nikolai grinned proudly and rolled off the bed. He stretched and threw you your black biker shorts and underwear that he'd pulled seemingly out of nowhere along with a loose white shirt that matched his uniform linen pants.

"Come on, pryntsesa, there's someone I want you to see."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You shakily stepped forward as Nikolai led you deeper into what seemed to be a basement. The walls were covered in pale bricks and dimly lit lanterns--keeping up with the medieval theme of the overall base. In the barely illuminated darkness, you could make out what looked like a jail cell. You kept trying to peer at Nikolai to ask him where exactly you were going and who he was taking you to see, but he only stared ahead with the same proud smirk on his face.

Maybe he was taking you to meet Sigma? Or the other members of the Decay of Angels? You shivered thinking about the fact you really were in their base; Nikolai's files had included that he used to work with a terrorist organization and the various atrocities they'd committed. Now that you were with them, you wondered if that made you a hostage or co-conspirator. You briefly recalled Dos mentioning "the target" in the basement. Was that who you were going to see?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you bumped into Nikolai's back, his soft braid tickling your nose. You muttered out a quiet apology as he flipped on a switch to brightly light up the jail cell you stood outside of. He turned slightly to face you and smiled gently at you as he brought you in front of him, putting his hands on your shoulders and making you blush. Some sudden cries grabbed your attention to what was in front of you, causing you to instinctively recoil at the familiar face staring back at you.

The boss of the asylum--your husband.

"Dear, is that you?" His raspy voice called out. Getting a full look at him, he looked worse than ever--sweaty disheveled hair clinging to his forehead; uniform tattered and stained with dirt, sweat, and what appeared to be ash; and a desperate, blown out expression on his face. You couldn't believe your eyes--Why was he here?

"T-that man kidnapped you, didn't he?" He got up from the floor and stepped closer in response to your silence, "L-look, I don't know w-what those terrorists told you, but that f-freak--" your husband shrieked, pointing at Nikolai but quickly bringing his finger down in fear, "--burned down the entire asylum and dragged us here. The new girls, the guards, they all got burned or severely injured." Your eyes widened as he started crying and wailing miserably, "A-and Lacey...sh-she's dead...what a brutal way to die...Oh God...Lacey--" The boss clutched his face as tears streamed down his face, mixing with the ash and further sullying his appearance.

Disgust and shock hit you, partly from the mess in front of you that was still reminiscing about the home wrecker he'd cheated on you with and partly because of the events you'd just learned--assuming your husband wasn't lying, Nikolai committing arson and presumably killing Lacey were details that he kept from you. You turned to face the jester, but he only kept his smile from earlier--eyes now devoid of warmth and stoically cold, gazing back into your dilated pupils before turning your head around back to the cell. You shuddered lightly: that was him confirming it was true.

Your husband's eyes twitched at your lack of reaction. He abruptly lunged towards the jail cell, clinging onto the cell bars and struggling against them to try to reach out to you. You screamed as his arm extended in your direction, and Nikolai stepped back to wrap his arms protectively around you, pulling you into his chest.

Your husband was banging against the bars, "Please! L-listen to me, darling!" You cringed at the fake nickname. "Forgive me for what I did in the past and save me--I'm sure h-help's coming. After this, I-I'll...buy you a new car and w-we can go on a nice vacation, start a f-family--start over, y'know?" He gave you a distraught smile, and you cringed at his pathetic display of promises. There was absolutely no way you could willingly go back to a man who'd abused and betrayed you.

Snot was now falling down his nose as he tried to fix his hair and steady his voice; he was practically yelling at you now. "Look, I'm sorry for cheating on you. Lacey was just too tempting...but I regret it, a-and now I know that I really love you." You weren't convinced, he was clearly just trying to save face. "S-shit!" He clanged against the bars again, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping them, "I'm trying to apologize to you, dear. I love you--I'm wearing my ring for fuck's sake! C-can't you see that that freak's manipulating you?" He tried to make eye contact again with the white-haired man in front of him, but only cowered back in fright after meeting his intimidating gaze.

You could sense Nikolai glaring back as he tightened his grip around you. It made you frown seeing your husband trying to act like he knew everything about your relationship...Nikolai wasn't manipulating you; he loved you in the way your unfaithful husband never could.

"What are you talking about?" You asked sadly, completely shattering whatever pitiful resolve your husband had left. He gasped horribly and fell to his knees, realizing that you were too far gone, too in love with Gogol.

He stopped when he looked up and noticed your bare neck. "Your ring...why isn't your necklace on?" You traced around the empty space, feeling how light it was now that it was gone. Nikolai smirked in response.

"I--"

"She doesn't need it anymore." Nikolai replied darkly, cutting you off. He laughed a bit, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He turned to you, startling you a bit. "Actually, you threw it away yourself, didn't you, dove? 'Cause you don't love him anymore." You nodded affirmatively, exasperating your husband even more as he resumed his sobs. Nikolai only curled his lip up coyly at his reaction and brought one of hands down to stroke your inner thigh provocatively as another brought your chin up to kiss you passionately. Heat flowed throughout your body as you blushed deeply. You couldn't tell how much time passed as you felt dizzy after he slipped his tongue in. The anguished cries in the background were drowned out as Nikolai pulled away slowly, making you flustered from the string of saliva left behind.

He licked his lips satisfyingly and gave you a peck before whispering in your ear, "Go on, ptashka, tell him how you feel."

Flush still on your cheeks, you looked directly at your old partner, who was now shaking in agony, "He's right--he's not manipulating me, either. I'm not yours anymore, and I don't want our old life back. I--" Nikolai was still stroking your thigh and was dangerously close to your panties. "I--mmh--I'm in love with Kolya now, and I want to be with him." You missed the pink on Nikolai's face as you saw your husband practically collapse, banging on the ground as he bawled awfully.

"Y-you fucking slut! How could you betray me like this? A-nd your p-parents--w-what would they think about this?" You backed away from the cell, bothered by his yelling. You wished he would shut up already.

Your husband's rambling was stopped suddenly as the sound of a gun cocking reverberated off the brick walls. It was from Nikolai. He placed it in your hands while gazing into your eyes sincerely. "Dove, you've been trapped in this man's cage--stuck on a ride you want to get off, but you keep riding. I want you to decide...If you want to keep playing his game or live your own life."

Your eyes widened at that. This was your chance to change your life and free yourself from the burden of your old life. There was no more chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, no more waiting for an inconsiderate man to love you. There was no sure promise of a better life if you saved him and went back to him...

Shit, what the hell were you thinking about? Could you really kill someone by yourself so easily?

Brain an absolute conflicting mess, you felt like you had a war in your mind. You couldn't think clearly as your thoughts jumbled together, and the intensity of the cold metal was making you unsteady. Nikolai noticed and wrapped his warm hand around your shaky one, bringing it up to aim at your husband's head.

"Do you want him gone, myla?" He whispered into your ear, placing your finger over the trigger. "All you have to do is shoot, and it'll all be over." His soft whispers drowned out the sound of your husband begging for his life and backing away desperately in the background. Nikolai gave you the same warm smile as before and his usually dull right green eye was sparkling with emotion. In a strange way, it was comforting, reminding you that you weren't alone.

You didn't remember much after that, just feeling the gun go off and Nikolai's hand over yours, followed by a deafening silence. You winced as you felt something wet against the side of your skin and blood splattered across Nikolai's white clothes. You didn't dare look at your own shirt. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, and you swore you were about to explode. Nikolai was grinning and laughing maniacally, while you could barely register your own emotions. You slowly turned your head to peer into the cell, but Nikolai put his hand out to block your sight. It was probably for the better, anyways. The stillness already confirmed your husband was dead.

Instead, Nikolai put his hands around your face and crashed his lips onto yours possessively. You closed your eyes as he muttered sweet nothings in between kisses and wrapped your arms around his torso, collapsing as your body slowly gave out and the gun dropped to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Nikolai kissed your forehead gently again as he wrapped a warm towel around your shivering body. After leaving the murder scene, you'd taken a shower together. You guessed it was like 'washing away your crimes' and getting clean again. It was strange, despite how lovesick he was over you, he didn't touch you sexually at all while washing your body. You thanked him and mustered up a small smile as you turned away from towards the mirror.

"Are you still shaken up, myla?" From your--no, our--first kill?" You stared into your reflection and looked down, basically giving him your answer. "It's okay, it's human to feel guilt and remorse after a death...even a horrible monster like me still feels that way, too!" He beamed at you, giggling contagiously.

You pouted back at him, feeling a slight burden lifted off of you, "Don't call yourself that--you're my lover now..." You mumbled, blushing slightly. You could love each other openly now.

He smirked and hugged your waist, the fabric of his clean white button-up--unbuttoned and exposing his toned six pack--and black slacks pressing against your skin. He'd gotten ready while you were spacing out in front of the fogged-up mirror, but you couldn't help stopping to admire how handsome he was.

"Ahhhh, I almost forgot...I never told you why I fell in love with you in the first place, did I, dove? You looked up at him curiously and he kissed the tip of your nose, "It's because you reminded me of my past self. Unknowingly in a cage, slightly different from the rest--I still remember the pretty little smile you flashed me the day we met and how sweetly you treated me...kinda unprofessional by the way...flirting with a crazy man..." Nikolai slowly trailed his kisses over your jaw and down your neck, making you start to feel warm inside, "I wanted to free you from the control of the outside world...I could tell you already had the willingness to change and just needed a small push." You yelped as Nikolai bit down softly to mark your collarbone and dropped the towel from your body.

You instinctively tried to cover up your body, but Nikolai stopped your arms, placing them on the rim of the sink instead. His hands left your waist to fondle your tit, drawing circles around the hardened bud while his other hand crept down your stomach to slip over your slit. A familiar rose dusted your cheeks as he kissed your neck softly and a moan slipped out from you, "A-ahhh, K-Kolya..." He nudged your jaw up towards the mirror.

The fog had evaporated away, so you could now see your reflection. To see yourself in such a lewd, shameless state, completely naked while Nikolai was basically fully dressed was...you couldn't describe it. He tenderly kissed your skin again before grinning at the mirror and taking his hand off your chest to lift up your face.

"Look how cute you are, dove. You really love my touch, huh~?" He pulled his slick-covered fingers out from your thighs and licked them clean. Watching him do it through the mirror was an enticing sight: it made you want more. Nikolai wasn't oblivious to your slight panting and trembling either. "Watch clearly as I make love to you, pryntsesa." His fingers dipped back into your cunt, parting your folds as his middle finger slipped inside of you while his thumb played with your clit. His other hand resumed massaging your breasts as he licked down his trail of kisses. You couldn't help but mewl at his actions, getting wetter watching the sight in front of you.

It was strange, he was typically rough and forward, but he was unusually soft with you this time. You didn't have time to think about why as he inserted another finger and went at a slightly faster pace, making you start to rock your hips against his hand. You moaned as the sensation coursed through your lower half, fingers gripping the rim of the sink and ass arching into his back, making you blush when you brushed against his clothed bulge.

"Mmmm~Kolya...your fingers...they're--ahh--s'good--"

"Y-yeah? You like 'em, pretty girl?" He heaved into your ear. He wanted to be gentle with you today, but the sight of you in the mirror and the way you were moaning his name so angelically was making him more hot and bothered than he wanted to admit. "C-cum whenever you want, 'kay?" Nikolai pumped his fingers more intensely into you, needy to make you finish as you struggled against his hold, the pressure making you lose balance and lean forward. He sturdied you against his chest again and captured your lips to pull you into a deep kiss, your tongues wrapping around each other.

The coil in your stomach got tighter as his long fingers pressed against your sweet spot, and his pointer and thumb coming together to pinch your sensitive clit finally sent you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came all over his fingers, staining the front of his pants and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Nikolai gently kissed away your tears as you came down from your high, hugging your waist and caressing your sides.

You gasped as you heard him unzipping his damp slacks, and you looked in the mirror, your eyes traveling straight down to his hardened member. Nikolai started stroking his length slowly, pale pink tip sticky with pre-cum, as he lowly groaned your name. "S-sorry dove, I--fuck--wanted to play with you more, but I--ah--can't wait any longer..." Heat went straight to your core upon hearing that.

"I-it's fine, p-put it in..." You looked back at him sweetly before parting your folds with your pretty nails, and he grunted after seeing some of your arousal drip down your thighs.

"F-fuck, myla, you're so beautiful~" You hissed at the feeling of Nikolai teasing past your slit before entering you slowly. Even though he'd prepped you more than last time, you still whimpered lightly from the stretch, secretly making him smirk pridefully. He silenced your moans with another gentle kiss as he started thrusting inside of you, lewd sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of his hands went back to your tits to play with them again as he broke away from the kiss, groaning into your neck as he pushed deeper into your pussy. It wasn't enough for him, though.

He lifted your leg up slightly and bent it slightly at an angle before drilling his cock harder into your cunt, your hands pressing close to the mirror as your back arched, so he could go deeper inside you. Nikolai groaned and bit his lip as your walls clenched around his length. He soothed your pleasured cries by kissing down your back, pressing his abs against your hot skin. The foggy reflection of your tits bouncing up and down with his movements and the fucked-out expression on your face made him moan lowly, praising you for taking him so well.

You whined at the tight feeling in your core as your pussy sucked in his cock. The feeling was so good you were moving your hips back and forth to meet his thrusts, ass recoiling perfectly in response. Nikolai was still hyper-focused on leaving hickeys on your skin and squeezing your tender nipples, and his hot breath tickling your neck was driving you crazy. He groaned as you squeezed his length again, pre-cum starting to leave a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"A-ahh~ I'm close--keep going, p-please--" You begged, desperate to cum and hoping he wouldn't edge you like last time. He smirked, pleased by how needy you were. He nodded, locking you in another messy kiss as his free hand traveled down to your hips. Nikolai pulled away from you slightly before re-entering you harshly, making you see stars.

You choked on your moans as you whimpered his name, pussy clenching around him even more. He was breathing heavily, and his thrusts were getting slower and messier, signaling that he was close, too. You got up slightly on your elbows and looked back at him affectionately, "I love you, Nikolai."

His eyes widened as he pulled your back against his chiseled stomach and buried his face into the crook of your neck, secretly blushing like crazy. His strong arms came back to wrap around your waist, making you yelp when you felt him all the way inside you. "L-love you, too, dove~" He rasped quietly as he came in your pretty cunt.

The warmth made you moan as you followed with your second orgasm, panting at the euphoric sensation. Only Nikolai could make you feel like this. He pulled out slowly and turned your fragile body around towards him, hugging you intimately and kissing your forehead softly. He tucked your damp hair behind your ear and kissed the spot again, "You did so good, myla." You hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest and blushing when you heard his frantic heartbeat.

"I'm so happy you're mine now..." He whispered quietly, kissing your head again before steadying you against the sink to wet a towel and clean himself off. Nikolai bent down a bit to wipe you down, and you impulsively ruffled his fluffy white hair, making him giggle and plant a small kiss on your inner thigh. You smiled adoringly.

So he has his soft moments, too, huh.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Your and Nikolai's hands were intertwined as he led you to a grand dining room. Apparently, you were supposed to have dinner and meet two other members of the Decay of Angels. You fidgeted nervously as you approached the grand dining table, which was decorated with gold candelabras and a cream cloth table runner. Despite the warm decorations, the room still had a slight eerie feel.

The two men seated at the end of the dining table looked up at you. Nikolai had given you some fresh clothes, lending you one of his oversized chunky cream sweaters and a silk midi skirt that he'd quickly sewn out of the sheets. From the occasion, you'd learned about his surprising little hobby. On the other hand, he kept on his white button-up--now loosely buttoned--and just changed into a different pair of black and white striped pants.

Nikolai placed his hand on your waist and beamed excitedly, "Sigma, Dos, meet Dove! She's my lover and is going to be staying with us from now on!" He pushed you forward a bit and you nervously bowed.

"N-nice to meet you both. Thanks for accepting me, and I hope we all get along." You cursed yourself mentally for not coming off as confident as you wanted, but you couldn't help but crack slightly under the two men's stares.

Dos, who was sitting at the head of the table merely sneered silently and continued glaring at you as you sat down next to Nikolai. The man sitting across from you offered you a bashful smile instead, "N-nice to meet you, too. I'm Sigma." You smiled back at him, secretly grateful that he was trying to cut the tension.

Nikolai clapped his hands, "Okay, we've gotten introductions out of the way! Let's eat now~" Your eyes drifted to the bowl of pelmeni soup and borodinsky bread in front of you. To be honest, you were starving but concerned since Dos hadn't touched his food at all and was still intently staring you down.

Sigma cleared his throat and spoke up again, "Y-you can eat the food. It isn't poisoned or anything. Ivan made it." Ivan? You didn't know who that was, but you nodded and thanked him quietly, trying a spoonful of the soup. You wished you could just scarf it down, but you decided to eat in a ladylike manner as to leave a good impression.

You weren't quite sure if you'd impressed Dos, though, who had finally introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoyevsky a few minutes later, resting his chin on his linked hands.

"Welcome. We're the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization that commits murders and causes great fear and suffering--find a way to make yourself useful or you'll be disposed of--" He stared straight into your eyes, "--by me personally." Your heartbeat increased in fear and your hands went slightly clammy upon hearing that.

Nikolai put down his spoon, "Oi! Be a bit more gentle with her, will you?" Fyodor's gaze left you and he turned to Nikolai, "I know this is the first woman you've interacted with face-to-face in years, but you're already threatening her? Seriously? No wonder you're single..."

Fyodor's eyebrow twitched in response as Sigma turned away, obviously trying to stifle a laugh, and he and Nikolai glared daggers at each other. You hid your face in embarrassment as Fyodor scoffed annoyedly and dismissed himself from the table, taking his dinner with him. So much for getting along.

"God, he hates me now...he's probably going to murder me in my sleep..." You looked sadly at Nikolai, but he only grinned snidely.

"Don't worry about it, ptashka, Dos is just like that. Anyways, the mood's lightened up so much now that he's gone, right?" He giggled maniacally--unserious as always. Sigma chimed in as well, trying to cheer you up,

"Y-yeah! To be honest, I haven't spoken to him much, either, and I've been here for a while. He's just the serious, loner type." You weren't convinced fully, which he noticed. "I-I'm the general manager of the sky casino." You looked up and nodded, hearing about it before--a luxurious place for people to gamble away their fortunes and essentially be ungoverned and off-the-grid. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow, why don't you come and visit? I'll give you some money, on the house!" You perked up at that, taking up Sigma on his offer, much to his relief.

"I'll be going, too, just so you know." Nikolai butted in, making Sigma sigh and tell Nikolai he wasn't invited didn't have to come with. The two bickered back and forth, Nikolai being insistent on going to the casino with you two.

You giggled at that, they were just like real friends. Perhaps your stay here wouldn't be too bad--at least now one more person liked you. Sigma and Nikolai stopped arguing after hearing you laugh and looked at each other before smiling softly at you. You yelped as Nikolai jumped at you suddenly to attack your face with kisses, making Sigma cringe.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You'd finished dinner with Nikolai and Sigma, successfully being cheered up from the previous tension. It wasn't too long-lived though, as Nikolai had asked you to get Fyodor's dirty dishes. You tried to object, but he'd simply just waved his hand at you while he resumed washing the dishes with Sigma.

Knocking on the door to Dos's room, you hesitantly cleared your throat and spoke, "Can I come in? I just need to get your dishes." You heard him shuffle around and click his tongue,

"The door's unlocked. Come in." You gulped before turning the knob and entering. The stone room was cold and barren, with the only 'decoration' being a table holding several different monitors and keyboards. The room was only lit by the screens, which were circling with code and all sorts of data. Fyodor didn't even try to acknowledge your presence or turn around, so you just tried to step around the various cords on the floor and grab his bowl in front of him.

He was reading a book in his chair and still didn't speak a word, but you could feel his glares cutting into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You grabbed the bowl and turned back around--again trying to avoid stepping on any cords--and your eyes curiously tried to see what book he was reading.

He rotated his chair briefly, "You know, being a housewife isn't--"

"Crime and Punishment?! Oh, I remember reading that book in the asylum's library. It's a great commentary on the transformative power of guilt and the possibility of redemption, isn't it?" You chirped, instantly regretting your impulsive input on the book. Why did you have to be such a bookworm?

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly as he closed his mouth, truly caught off-guard, "Yes, it is." He went back to his book as you shyly smiled and made your way through the cords, back finally turned away from him. He paused, "You can borrow it if you like. I can give it to you tomorrow after breakfast."

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly. You were only met with the sight of his chair, though. "R-really? T-that would be nice, actually...Thank you." You trailed slowly towards the door before leaving. "G-goodnight!" Flustered, you closed the door quickly, missing him saying it back and the pale rose that was dusting his cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Life with the Decay of Angels had been going surprisingly well. It had been two months since Nikolai had taken you to the base, and you'd adjusted in that time span.

You got close with Sigma, who admitted he was a bit intimidated and scared of you at first because you were Nikolai's lover, but he was relieved you weren't exactly like him. Fyodor had become more open and accepting of you, and you both mostly connected over the literature he would share with you. Nikolai tried to keep you away from him as much as possible, though he would never tell you why...

You had become a decoy of sorts and helped Nikolai on the ground with disguises and espionage. Currently, you were both infiltrating Mersault. You had learned that the true reason for Nikolai coming to the asylum was to get a hold of the space-creating ability that both Mersault and the asylum were built with. Fyodor was hoping to harness it to build a secret, impenetrable base for the Decay of Angels.

Criminal profiling and socialization skills from your previous attendant position had come in handy when going undercover, along with your "feminine charm" that none of the other members possessed. Of course, Nikolai was all too excited to have you working with him, never missing the chance for quickies or subtle flirting and teasing. You couldn't exactly say that you hated it, though...

Whenever you walked around in public, you would occasionally see a "missing" poster with your face and information on it. You would always discreetly rip up and toss them, though, having no desire to be found or go back to your old life.

After all, you'd finally crossed the threshold from the ordinary world to a new life with your true lover. You'd been freed, and you were never going back.

˚₊‧꒰ა bad ending໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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allur1ngs · 4 months

Text

✮ see no evil, hear no evil ✮

TW: unedited, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom!reader, teasing, strap usage–r!receiving, reader tries to ride bada’s strap for a bit before bada takes control, bada is very cocky in this one…idk mafia bada is just always so cocky to me during sex, bada’s strap is referred to as a cock/dick, exhibitionism, bada doesn’t receive again, sorry…, erm… dumbification, hyo hears you and bada fucking two times, she will never rest…), italicized words with quotes around them in this fic indicate a thought, and in a long block of text indicate a flash back, the picture in the middle purely for aesthetics/a visual aid and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! this is entirely canon divergent and not a part of the mafia au timeline!!!!!!!!!!! if you want to read the canon version of this scenario, read this

SUMMARY: hyo will always be a dedicated bodyguard. she takes pride in the fact that she is able to stay by your side each day, and protect you. the only downside? she has to exercise immense amounts of self-restraint when she stands outside your bedroom or office door, and hears bada fucking you.

WC: 5.6k

A/N: an anon asked it so we did it!! a collab w my wife @bebeyue, make sure to read her continuation of this by clicking the three ellipsis at the end of this fic (this is a threat)!!!! this is the only time i’m cosigning on any form of hyo content–i make exceptions for aeri–so enjoy this one piece!! (ps. pls do not send any requests for hyo–i’m only writing for bada!!) but besides that, again, this is a “behind the scenes” of this drabble, but uses this fic as an opening, pls enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Kim Hyo is a diligent bodyguard, and no one can deny that fact. Although Bada may at times nitpick at things she does, she can’t dismiss Hyo’s commitment to her job as your bodyguard. Through thick and thin, she’s been there, watching over you. Early mornings and late nights, her presence is never far.

Take, for instance, the current situation unfolding between you, Bada, and Hyo.

"I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught." Bada’s voice comes from inside her office, and leaks into the hallway. Coincidently, you’d accidentally left the door open when you entered to hand your faincée her glasses. Now that accident left you in a rather compromising position.

Hyo stands outside Bada’s office, her back against the wall as your fiancée eats you out and toys with you. She’s not exactly sure what is specifically happening inside but from the sounds of moans, you’re enjoying what Bada is doing to you.

"I-I don't." You answer your fiancée’s prior statement, a hint of shame creeping into your voice.

"There you go again," Bada says, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth in displeasure.

Hyo hears a shuffling sound and then another moan rings out from the office, this time the sound is significantly louder–she lets out a sharp breath and clutches her hands tightly together in front of her, struggling to keep up her professionalism.

"Do you enjoy lying to me?" Bada continues.

Trying to distract herself, Hyo forces herself to think of something else. “What are we having for dinner tonight–” She begins a thought, but it’s interrupted by the sound of Bada’s stern voice speaking up again.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?"

“No.” You squeak, "Please--"

“The Boss is being very stern this time.” Hyo finally manages to collect herself enough to think a clear, coherent thought. “The last time this happened–” Her thought is interrupted by another that invades her mind.

“Be honest, you like that type of stuff–” Tatter’s amused voice echoes in your bodyguard’s mind, her entire body going rigid.

“Fuck.” She mentally curses, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “It’s not like that–” Despite what fibs Hyo may try to convince herself of, the mind never lies. It is the truest and most honest representation of thought.

So it’s natural that Hyo thinks of the night prior to this most recent excursion between you and Bada, when you’d engaged in such activities.

The day had begun normally, much like today had, until certain events led your bodyguard to a cruel fate.

3 days earlier

Standing on the steps of the Lee mansion, you beckon over your wife. “Come here,” you say, voice brimming with excitement.

Bada, who’d just spoken to Hyo, and asked her to bring around her Porsche 918 Spyder, turns to look up at you standing on the second step of the stairs toward the open driveway. “Coming.” She says, dismissing Hyo as she ascends the steps in your direction. When she reaches the step you’re standing on, positions herself behind you and starts to trail kisses up and down your neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful? I love this dress…”

“You’ve only told me five times already.” You laugh while reaching into the pockets of your dress–a feature that you reverently appreciate–to pull out your phone. “But thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She mumbles into your skin, dragging her nose up and down while continuing to press heated, wet kisses on the crook of your neck.

“Bada, I want to take a picture.” You huff, trying to focus on opening the camera app on your phone.

“Take one then, I’m not stopping you.” She replies, never slowing down her sweet assault on your neck.

“I can’t when you’re kissing me.” You argue back lightheartedly.

“Just angle the phone so I’m not in frame–”

Not convinced, you gently shy away from Bada’s lips. “I’ll let you give me kisses after I’ve taken the picture. Just two seconds, alright?”

“Fine.” Your fiancée pouts as she wraps her right arm under your boobs, unintentionally making them pop.

You barely notice as you lean back into her chest and hold up your phone, closing your eyes and smiling for the picture. But Bada does. She sees the way the skin of your tits shine in the low light, and how the picture looks incredibly intimate, like it’s something not meant to be seen by foreign eyes. She leans in, completely entranced by the photo, and your reflection–

The moment slips away like a gentle whisper in the breeze as you slowly open your eyes and your smile widens at the picture. You don’t comment on the nature of the photo, only saying, “It’s so cute, I have to post it on Instagram!” Which you quickly do, all the while Bada remains silent, moving her head back into the crook of your neck.

The kisses she’d given you prior, although passionate, are nothing compared to the heat with which she charges the kisses she places on your skin now. She uses just the tip of her tongue and drags it across your neck, which makes you freeze, and a puff of air leave your lips.

“Maybe we should stay in.” She whispers between kisses.

“Bada, you made reservations.” You mumble, bringing your hand up to the side of her head, clutching onto strands of her long, black and white striped hair. At the same time, Hyo pulls up in the Porsche. She parks it right in front of you both, then turns to face you, but when she catches sight of the intimate moment you two are sharing, she instantly faces forward and clears her throat. She tries to make it seem like she’s not listening to what either of you are saying, but your close proximity makes it almost impossible.

“Fuck the reservations,” Bada says into your skin, winding her other arm around your midsection–again making your tits pop out. “It’s been a while since we had sex.”

“Bada, Hyo is here with the car.” You whisper, using weak force to pull on Bada’s hair in an attempt to pull her off of your neck.

You succeed, but your fiancée is displeased. “So?”

“So,” you give Bada an astonished glance, “she can hear and see us–”

“She’s not even looking our way.” Bada points at Hyo, who’s scrolling through her photo albums, trying to busy herself. “She’s on her phone–” Your fiancée suddenly frowns, pressing you closer to her chest. “Hyo, why are you looking at your phone?”

Your bodyguard instantly sits up and snaps her head in Bada’s direction, looking like she’s about to break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry Boss, I was just…uh–”

“Oh stop picking on her.” You gently swat at your fiancée’s arm and break away from her hold, quickly grabbing her hand and practically dragging her forward. “Let’s just go and eat dinner like we’d planned–”

Although you’re not able to see, Bada sends Hyo a look that screams, “You ruined my plans,” as you force her into the car.

Hyo gulps, moving to face forward and placing her hands on the wheel of the car.

Yeah, she’s in for it.

The rest of the night surprisingly goes without a hitch after that. After leaving the Lee mansion, Hyo had proceeded to drive you two to the La Yeon, an upscale restaurant that serves traditional Korean cuisine, and only caters forty guests at a time. Bada had reserved a private room for you both to dine, so naturally Hyos stood outside as watch, only hearing small noises from your lively chatter.

But the real hell began on the car ride back to the Lee mansion.

The three of you had been sitting in a peaceful silence when you suddenly spoke up, curiosity striking you, "Just how much did you have to pay for the private room we ate in?"

Bada nonchalantly shrugs, "Not much."

"Somehow, I doubt that," you banter.

Bada shifts her gaze from staring straight ahead to glance at you. "Well, it wasn't much for me."

"Ah, that makes more sense," you nod, releasing a small laugh. "But you know, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants. I'd be happy to spend time with you, no matter where we do it."

Your fiancée shakes her head, "I don't take you out of obligation. I do so because I love you. I want you to experience establishments that are worthy of your presence."

Turning your attention to Bada, you gaze at her through the barely-lit car. Her eyes reflect deep sincerity, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Bada... I'm just a woman—"

"You're not just a woman," she interrupts, her eyes stern yet holding glints of love behind the firmness. "You are my woman. My fiancée. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't treat you?"

Bada's passionate gaze makes you turn away, your hand ghosting over your mouth as you grow bashful. "You can't just say things like that," you whisper, your voice meek and soft.

"Why? Does hearing how much I love you make you nervous?" Bada laughs, amused by your reaction.

"I just..." you trail off, struggling to find words to express your feelings. "I love you." Those three words are the only way to convey the warmth coursing through your body.

Bada smiles softly, grabbing your hand which you’d positioned in your lap. "I love you more."

You intertwine your fingers with hers, observing the way she affectionately runs her thumb over the gem on your engagement ring. "But you know," you suddenly add, prompting your wife to look up from your joined hands to meet your gaze. "you could have mentioned we were going to a Michelin-star restaurant. I felt a bit underdressed..." Your eyes shift down to the silky white dress you're wearing. While undeniably elegant, its somewhat scandalous design features thin straps supporting a teardrop-shaped neckline that accentuates your boobs, which gracefully twists into the bodice and tapers into the gown's lower hem.

"Underdressed?" Bada says incredulously. "You look absolutely beautiful–"

"All the other women were wearing name brands and elegant dresses–" you protest, but are cut off.

"What does it matter what they were wearing?" Bada furrows her eyebrows, genuinely confused by your words. “You could walk into this restaurant in your pajamas, and you’d still outshine every single one of those women.”

You let out a sharp breath, smiling shyly. “There you go again. I think you enjoy making me flustered.”

“If you’ve just barely realized that, I clearly have not been doing my job.” Bada laughs, gently squeezing your hand, which still remains in her grasp. “By the way, I thought I had thoroughly expressed how much I love the way you look, earlier.”

A fire lights in your stomach as you glance at her. “Well…”

“I really am not doing my job, am I?” Bada uses her unoccupied hand to gently touch the side of your face, and leans in. “I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you look in this dress.”

That last sentence sealed Hyo’s fate. She continued to drive as you let out small giggles, and Bada whispered things in your ear. What exactly she said, Hyo doesn’t want to imagine.

Upon arrival at the Lee mansion, you and Bada are a mess of scandalous whispers, and chuckles as you both ascend up the steps, your bodyguard lagging behind to park the car. But it seems you two are far too excited to keep your hands off each other, because when Hyo walks toward the Lee mansion steps after returning the Porsche to the garage, you’re both nowhere to be found. Your bodyguard rushes up the steps, mumbling curse words under her breath as she opens the door and races up the mansion’s winding staircase, heading toward the only place you must be, your shared bedroom.

When she makes it there, she instantly walks to the right side of the door, her back up against the wall. She lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that Bada was too busy to tell her off for lagging behind.

But then she hears it, a small sound, simple and tiny, innocent.

“Bada!” You squeal, while a creaking sound barely reaches Hyo’s ears. It sounds like you’d been thrown onto the bed.

Inside the bedroom, Bada moves to hover above you, planting either of her arms beside your head. She smirks down at you, her eyes sweeping over every sliver of your skin that’s available to her prying eyes. She leans in to rub her nose against yours cutely, watching how you crinkle yours and smile out of instinct. “You’re fucking adorable.” Bada breathes, then places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper when she pulls away.

“I love you more.” She whispers back, moving her hand to grab at one of the straps of your dress. She thumbs at the silk until she slowly begins to move the strap down your shoulder, the movement so light a shiver runs up your spine as you watch her. When she fully slips down the strap of the dress, your bare tit is exposed to the cold air, which makes your nipple pebbling because of the sudden temperature difference. “No bra?” Bada presses her thumb against your nipple, starting to trace delicate, mithodical circles to the sensitive bud.

“The fabric is thicker than it looks–” You breathe, but the words die on your lips as your fiancée moves to drag the other strap of your dress down. Now both of your tits are exposed to Bada’s hungry eyes.

“I really love this dress.” She grabs either side of your boobs, pushing them together to oggle the way your flesh meets to make a tantilizing image. The soft skin of your tits glows in the light, and the way your nipples continue to pebble because of the cold has Bada captivated.

“I think you should take it off me.” You say coquettishly.

Bada stares at you for a moment with an excused expression before she releases your tits and sits up. “Actually, I had different plans for you.” She steps away from the bed, making her way to the dresser beside it before opening the bottom drawer. You turn your head to the side to watch with a confused expression, but what she pulls out from the drawer makes you smile.

Bada takes out a bottle of lube and her long, black strap, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes to see you carefully studying her every move with excitement in your eyes. “Looking forward to it, are we?” She remarks.

“Should I not be?” You flip over onto your stomach, placing your head in the palm of your hand as Bada begins to take off her dress pants and shirt. Like always, she only has her boxers and her bra on while she puts on her strap.

“Do you need help?” You pipe up.

Bada looks up and smiles. “If you’re offering.”

You quickly get off the bed and kneel down in front of your fiancée, helping her manuver through the harness and secure it onto her pelvis. When you’ve finished, you don’t stand up, instead, you look at Bada as you lean forward to press a kiss on the head of her cock, running your tounge along the silicone.

Bada lets a small hiss at your actions, her hand coming down to gently rest on your head. “C’mon.” She pats your head, signalling you to get up.

You do so without a single protest falling from your lips, but you take the bottle of lube out of Bada’s hand, pop it open and slowly place a glob of the sticky substance into the palm of your hand. Before your finacée can say anything, you lean in and place a passionate, all-tongue kiss as you rub up and down in cock, twisting your wrist like you’re really trying to give her a hand job.

Bada groans into your lips, grabbing the sides of your face and deepening the kiss until you’re just swapping saliva messily, small strings of it clinging to each other’s lips, connecting you two together. “Sit on the bed.” She whispers inbetween your clash of mouths.

You pause, then take a step back from your fiancée, your lips parted as you let out staggering breaths. Backing up until you feel the edge of the bed gently collide with your legs you sit down like you were told to.

Bada is quick to follow after you, but to your surprise, she doesn’t push your back onto the bed; instead, she climbs on and reclines against the bedframe with her back cradled by pillows. Her position makes her cock stand tall on her pelvis, the large head slightly drooping downwards when she slaps her thighs. “Sit on it.” She tells you, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion but crawl towards her anyway, taking off your panties before placing your thighs on either side of her hips and sitting down just shy of her cock. “I thought you said you were going to show me how beautiful I look in this dress.” You lightheartidly banter. Truthfully, you don’t care who does the work, all you want is to have Bada’s dick inside you, tearing you apart. But, then again, if she was going to tease you, you might as well do it back once or twice.

“What, you can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” She laughs, stretching her arm out to place it on your right thigh.

“I can.” You huff, feeling embarrassment start to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t know.” Bada imitates a thinking face. “You’re kind of a pillow princess if I’m being honest.”

“Wha–” You stutter, your mouth dropping open. “I’ve eaten you out before.”

“And who was still in charge then?” Bada argues, her amusement growing every passing second.

“Well–”

“Listen to me.” Your fiancée suddenly cuts you off, leaning forward so that her face is only inches away from yours–her cock slaps against her stomach, the action going unnoticed by her, but not by you. “Fuck yourself on my dick, and if you do well, I’ll take over and finish you off.” She takes her left hand and places it on your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. She takes note of how your skin feels unnaturally warm. “Does that sound good, baby?”

Your eyes, which had gone wide out of pure shock stare back at her like lustrous gems. You slowly begin to nod, forcing yourself to close your mouth and swallow. Bada nods with you, then moves to rest against the headboard again, her back hitting the pillows.

Although the tone she’d taken on was domineering, she still holds one hands out for you to take, so she can help you up onto her cock, while the other bunches up your long dress so it’s not in the way. You, of course, take her hand and with her added strength, lift yourself up until the tip of her cock just barely slaps against your pussy lips. You let out a shaky breath at the small surge of stimulation, but focus on inching your hips downward. Slowly, the tip of Bada’s strap fills up your pussy, every inch making you breathe harder and your hips stutter. The slight confidence you’d felt just a moment before instantly fades away as you close your eyes and stop moving.

“It’s only the tip, I should be able to take more,” you think, but truthfully even just the tip of Bada’s long and thick strap would be hard for anyone to take.

“Don’t do it all at once.” Bada’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes and look at her. “It’s big. You’ll hurt yourself.” She says tenderly. “Just take it slow.”

You listen to your fiancée, carefully and meticulously sinking onto her cock, taking small breaks in between every inch until you’re finally able to sit in her lap, every inch of her monsterously big cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” You pant, leaning forward to catch your staggering breath and to give your pussy a time to adjust.

Bada watches you with a fond smile on her lips, she leans in to press a small kiss on your cheek–which just so happens to angle her cock further into you, making you gasp. “You took it all, I’m so proud of you.” She whispers sweetly, the soft side she only has for you peeking through her dominant demenour.

“I–” You say through heavy breaths. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright, just breathe.” Bada grabs hands grab at the sides of your face, trying to ground you. “In and out honey, in and out.”

You try to take in a deep breath but it catches in your throat. Still, with Bada’s guidance, you slowly begin to calm your breathing until it settles into small puffs.

“There.” She mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You nod, shaking your head. “Just…it’s been a while–”

“I know it has, which is why you need to take it slow baby.” Bada’s eyes flash with a small glint of worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not, just took a little longer to adjust.” You place your hand over Bada’s, now wearing a confident expression. “I can do it.”

Your fiancée gives you a hesitant look but slowly leans back, allowing you to take the reigns. You start off slow, moving up just an inch before sitting back down. Then the next time you go up you go a bit further, so on until you’re able to take out half of Bada’s strap before slamming back down on her lap.

You also start to pick up your pace, angling your hips forward so her cock drags against your walls deliciously. You let out small, breathy moans with each rise and fall of your hips, still trying to get more out of her strap. But it feels like you can’t. Every time you think you can take out more you feel your legs weaken and have to slam yourself down on her lap before you awkwardly fall.

All the while Bada watches you, carefully zeroing in on the base of her cock, which is only wet with a minimal amount of your slick. She catches every moment you struggle on top of her, trying so hard not laugh at how cute your frustrated face is. “Do you need help?” She asks after she notices you lose your rhythm and slam onto her lap with a small annoyed curse.

“No.” You say stubbornly. Trying to prove her wrong, you use all your strength to lift up from her cock and this time manage to get another inch out before you have to quickly go down again. This time the sensation is deeply pleasurable so you let out a louder moan, but in your attempt to savor the feeling you once again lose your rhythm.

“So, you still don’t want my help?” Bada tilts her head to the side, just barely able to stop herself from chuckling at the glare you give her. But this time, you don’t answer her, instead, you just pant on her lap, looking like a defiled angel in your silky white dress that’s clutched between Bada’s hand, the straps having fallen so far down your body that some of your stomach is revealed, the other covered by the tight bodice. “All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll keep my promise from before.”

Truthfully, beyond feeling bad for your current inability to pleasure yourself, Bada just really wants to fuck you. The dress you’re half wearing is still doing things to your fiancée, the contrast of the pure white against your skin, which is stained with sin and sweat makes her desire to slam her cock into you reach incalcuable heights.

Looking at your fiancée, you bite your bottom lip in thought. There are two ways you could go about this. You could keep trying to ride Bada and probably only give yourself half the pleasure she can, or you can say yes and let her fuck you like she said she would.

…The answer is obvious.

“Yes.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Without a single second to spare, Bada lets go of your dress and grabs ahold of your hips, flipping your positions with such quick speed that it leaves you dizzy and giggling.

Bada runs her hands up and down your figure for a moment, leaning down to place a kiss on one of your tits before placing one on the other.

“Put one of the pillows between your head and the headboard.” She tells you, pointing at a lone pillow beside you.

Confusion flows through you but you do what she asks anyway, propping the pillow on it’s side so it cradles the top of your head.

Bada gives you a smile, then takes both of your hands into hers. She coils her long fingers between yours and stretches her arms out so that your arms are held above your head. “I’ll show you how good my cock can feel.” She whispers into your ear, the words just barely leaving her lips before she takes out the entirety of her strap out of you and slams it back in.

The sudden fast and strong movement makes the headboard slam against the wall, and your head slides up, wich would have painfully hit the metal if it weren’t for the pillow Bada told you to put behind your head.

Your fiancée’s deep and fast stroke makes you let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” Bada mumbles proudly. “Bet that felt so good after all that fooling around you did before.”

Outside of your shared bedroom, Hyo stands frozen in her spot, the sound of the slamming accoumpanied by your loud moan making her gulp. She hadn’t been able to hear a thing before this, which is why the sudden rancourous noise startled her, almost making her jump.

“It’s fine,” She tells herself. “They’re just…having fun, that’s all.”

But again, another loud slam followed soon after by your pleasure-filled cry leaks out of the bedroom, the sound echoing cruelly in Hyo’s ear.

“Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Inside the bedroom, you don’t have the capacity to worry about about the fact that anyone in a five foot radius would probably hear you moaning and screaming like a whore, because your fiancée is fucking you within an inch of your life.

Like you’re a ragdoll, Bada takes you by the hips and angels them so that one is up in the air and the other lays on the bed, her cock slamming in and out of you at an insane speed. She’s moving so fast that your slick–which had tripled from what you produced when you were fucking yourself–is squirting onto her boxers and creaming at the base of her cock. It looks like a ring of sweet whipped cream against her thick black strap.

“I need to get this room sound-proofed.” Bada manges to say between heavy breaths. “You’re screaming like a fucking pornstar, baby.”

You’re unable to say anything, the only thing falling from your lips is moan after moan, which is somehow not overshadowed by the thundering sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aw, have I fucked all the thoughts out of you?” Bada drives her cock into you in a deep stroke, hitting that sweet spot in you that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck!” You close your eyes, mind turning to mush as your fiancée quickly takes her strap out, the ridging on the silicone catching against your hot and gummy walls, giving you profound pleasure.

Another rush of slick follows the exit of Bada’s dick, strings of it clinging from your pussy to the black strap, connecting you both. It would be poetic if what you were engaging in wasn’t pure, unadulterated sin. Immoral is the way that your lover slams every inch of her cock into you, sweat and your essance falling onto the sheets, leaving a stain as a testament to your depraved doings.

Bada reaches over to take the silk of your dress into her hands again, flipping all of it upward so that she can properly see her dick splitting you apart, rubbing your walls and hitting the front of your clit perfectly.

“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, is there?”

Proving her absolutely correct, you don’t respond.

“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to think. You just have to lay there, looking pretty in this dress while I slam my cock into you.” The way Bada cooes into the hot air of your bedroom makes your eyes almost roll back into your head. She knows just what to say, and when to say it. “Keep moaning like that, it’s fucking hot.” She adds, her own cunt pulsing beneath the fabric of her boxers. The way she’s pounding her strap in and out of you so forcefully makes the base of it rub against her cunt harshly, the slight pain and pleasure mixing together to make the coil in her stomach slightly tighten.

Like the obedient slut you are for your fiancée, you let out one loud, scream of, “I’m close!”

That only serves to reinvigorate Bada, who quickly takes your leg which is up in the air and sets it on her shoulder, allowing her to push her entire pelvis into you with a fast and intense stroke, which again hits your g-spot.

That’s what finally makes the tight coil in your stomach burst, a long stream of cum gushing from your pussy as Bada continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Of course, you can’t help yourself. Every loud curse and moan that falls from your lips settles into the air of the bedroom before floating through the crack between the door and the wall, the sound reverberating in the hallway of the Lee mansion.

Hyo, who had been counting to one thousand in her mind with her eyes screwed shut and her head down, realeases a long breath. She shakily breathes in and out, applauding herself for her immense self-restraint.

“It’s over.” She thinks, the voice of her internal dialouge fostering a relieved tone. “That was a long one. Sounded like she was getting strapped–”

Hyo surprises herself with her last thought. She suddenly straightens her back, shaking her head a bit.

“Stop–stop thinking about it.” She mentally scolds herself. Her cheeks are red, but under the dim lighting it’s impossible to see, and the wide, ashamed look in her eyes is hidden by her sunglasses. “That’s your boss and her future wife in there, it’s not–it’s not right.”

It isn’t.

But her wandering thoughts would be the least of Hyo’s worries, because while she counted to one thousand moments prior, a certain blonde Bebe girl had spotted her standing outside your and Bada’s shared bedroom, all the while your loud moans and slamming sounds filled the air.

“If I’d have known she was there I would have told her to keep quiet about it.” Hyo grumbles. “Now all the girls think I’m into that type of stuff–”

“Ouch!” The sound of your hurt whine cuts Hyo’s thoughts off.

She freezes in her spot, but out of pure instinct, and briefly forgetting what was going on beyond the doorway to Bada’s office, she reaches for the holster of her gun, and swings around to look inside the office.

And what she sees changes everything…

#bada lee x reader #bada lee x reader smut #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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elliespeach · 1 year

Text

the air that i breathe | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗

synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy

ellie’s pov

– three days after the kidnapping

the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically.

joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.”

she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.

thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant.

ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?”

joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–”

“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward.

“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.”

“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck.

her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst.

the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–

“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.”

“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her.

tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.”

his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–”

“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly.

before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?”

ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open.

“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape.

she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms.

when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory.

she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind.

slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.

sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.

“all you have to do is point, aim and–”

“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie.

“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.”

instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case.

she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence.

the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold.

she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway.

readers pov

– day of the kidnapping

the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over.

the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black.

while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you.

“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth.

“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them.

you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?”

“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.”

her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her.

“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away.

you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall.

the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.

you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door.

with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire.

“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.

you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you.

he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face.

you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming.

“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again.

— four days after the kidnapping

the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea.

at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book.

she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could.

you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair.

“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours.

“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv.

“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her.

turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.”

you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand.

“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice.

you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while.

remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.

time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted.

you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?”

“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself.

“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.”

the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression.

“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.”

worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–”

“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room.

ellie’s pov

— five days after the kidnapping

ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.

by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again.

tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag.

“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did.

“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.”

“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart.

thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you.

she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm.

“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search.

she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees.

not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake.

the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign.

not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her.

knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman.

the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it.

blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.

she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks.

“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head.

“take it all–”

“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.”

the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm.

“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face.

“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.

he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.”

the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably.

“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.”

“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun.

it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it.

taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive.

his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight.

the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia.

that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community.

tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied.

staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible.

“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation.

“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?

“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear.

she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place.

residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.

ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down.

the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–”

ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened.

“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules.

“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.”

ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”

“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street.

she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away.

that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping.

“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone.

ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information.

“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–”

his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it.

the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck.

she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp.

in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key.

she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here.

but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly.

your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more.

ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her.

“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.

she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done.

feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart.

the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally. ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain.

“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.”

ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you.

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