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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

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Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

———————————————————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.

#yandere aizawa #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere erasmic #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic family #yandere siren #yandere fantasy #yandere x child reader #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic obsession

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

because, i think it's stupid that lena wouldn't have a back-up plan after alex took the device from her...

“Hey, Alex,” Lena calls, jogging to where Alex was putting her jacket on. Everyone was already gearing up to go home and she’s been thinking about this for the past hour.

So, Lena shoots her shot.

“Yeah?” Alex turns to her, motor helmet in hand and already clad in her leather jacket.

“I was wondering if I can bring home the tracker? I know it’s a long shot but I was thinking maybe if I get another look at it, I can reverse engineer some of its properties and try to come up with a another way to get Kara back, I know Nia’s already doing the time-travel the but it can’t hurt to-”

Alex mercifully puts a stop to her rambling and puts a hand on her arm to stop her nervous fidgeting.

“I left it on top of the workstation.” She smiles in reassurance. “Of course you can take another look at it. Anything to help Kara.”

Lena lets out a relieved sigh. After everything that’s happened today she’s still a bit wary of stepping on anybody’s toes. That showdown with Alex was really something not to mention that talk after.

“Okay, okay. Thank you.”

“Alright. Good night.”

She sprints to the lab--which looks like more of an awkward gallop in her high heels--and snatches the tube-like device from the table.

She doesn’t even realize she’s hitching an elevator ride with Nia and Brainy—too caught up with planning out what to do with the device—till Nia speaks up, “Hey, that wasn’t bad for a first day.”

Lena looks up from the device in her hands, meeting Nia’s eyes.

“What’d I tell you, Nia Nal? Lena has always been extraordinary,” Brainy states, pressing for the ground floor.

“T-thank you,” she says, voice shaky and shy, but who can blame her? She isn’t used to this kind of appreciation. She still can’t believe they’ve accepted her like this, even though she very nearly ruined the whole mission by choosing Kara above everything else.

It was a good thing Alex was there to call the shots.

Nia gives her a small smile before slowly closing her eyes and resting her head against Brainy’s shoulder.

They say their goodbye’s at the door and then Lena’s speeding her way to her apartment.

***

The device worked with Kara’s DNA before it got recalibrated, if, and that’s a big if, Lena thinks.

If she can extract Kara’s DNA, replace the core of the device, and input it in, then she can recreate the same tech she did earlier.

She already knows she’s not going to get any sleep tonight.

She pulls up in front of her building and heads straight for her penthouse.

Kara hasn’t been here for a year, what with their falling out and everything that’s happened with Lex. They didn’t even have a chance for one last movie night before Kara disappeared.

Her eyes start to sting with unshed tears at the thought, but knowing the work she has to do tonight, she quickly pushes it down.

Despite Kara not having visited her home recently, Lena knows there are many traces of her in this place. Namely, the lavender hairbrush living in her second bathroom drawer, the one she didn’t have the heart to throw away even during their fight.

She quickly makes for her bathroom, throws open the drawers, grabs the brush and puts it in a clean zip-lock, one she pulled from the kitchen.

She didn’t even bother changing clothes.

She was too busy outlining tonight’s lab work in her head to bother with something as trivial as changing clothes.

There are more important things to do, like busting inside the LuthorCorp tower, and down to what used to be her private lab. Lex hasn’t changed security. This, she knows. Therefore, she also knows that Mr. Johnson still works the night shifts and if she plays her cards right, she can sway him to open the door for her and keep it discreet.

Of course, you must be wondering why doesn’t she just use her private lab at home, instead? The reason being, her private lab is strictly an engineering and physics lab. What she needs right now, is enzymatic reagents and buffers; a gel electrophoresis machine and a PCR machine.

All of which can be found in LuthorCorp’s cutting-edge Biochemistry laboratory.

***

Turns out, she was right.

Mr. Johnson still does the nightshift and he was only a tad bit surprised to see her there. Already used to Lena staying holed up all night long, in her lab in the past.

He tells her he’s on her side despite the bad news about the Luthor Children’s Hospital, tells her that most of them here dearly misses Miss Luthor and hopes that Lex as CEO is only a temporary thing. He also tells her thank you again for the thousandth time for Lena saving his daughter’s life. Lena smiles warmly and asks if he can keep this visit under wraps if he doesn’t mind, to which he immediately agrees. Lena fights the urge to let out another sigh of relief.

See, Lex? It pays to treat people kindly.

It’s 11 pm when Lena reaches the labs. It was already dark, save for the lights of the big freezers. She knows there’ll be footage of her little excursion here but that’s an easy enough problem to solve when you have a Twelfth-Level intellect as back-up.

When she said she isn’t going to sleep tonight, she really genuinely means she isn’t going to sleep tonight.

See, it’s already 11 and she needs at least an hour to sterilize all equipment, another hour to sift through the clump of hair in the brush and look for an intact hair shaft. Then, she estimates 2 hours for extracting the DNA from the hair shaft using enzymes and she knows all too well how long a time it takes for a pipette to find the right fit during electrophoresis, not to mention the PCR machine can take 2-4 hours.

And even then, Lena still has to test the device, link it to her transmatter portal in order to open a portal once she gets Kara’s coordinates and after all that she isn’t really sure if this is going to be effective.

She has half a mind to call Brainy here and run her through all the probabilities.

But she knows this is something she needs to do alone.

***

It’s been so long since she’s had to do anything with physiology that she has to spend at least 30 minutes reading up the lab manual.

Extracting cattle DNA like she did back in college was an easy enough task with someone with the brains as hers, but a Kryptonian’s?

Lena had to do some extra calculations on what temperature to set and how much solution to use to get through Kara’s hair of steel.

In the end, she figured it out and soon enough the hum of the PCR machine becomes her only companion. It took a while to denature Kara’s DNA, she had to double the amount of Taq polymerase before actually getting it to the PCR machine.

It’s 4 am now, and she only has two hours before the LuthorCorp employees show up; two hours before her brother pulls up.

Thank God, for state of the art PCR machines that get things done in under an hour.

***

She’s been actively avoiding thinking of Kara throughout all of this.

But now, she’s home and in her private lab with Kara’s DNA strands in vials inside the LuthorCorp sterile container.

If she pulls this off, if this works, Kara would be home.

She won’t have to talk to holograms anymore, she won’t have to dream about bloody capes, she won’t have to feel incomplete anymore. Kara would be home. She can bring Kara home.

With a newfound determination, she sets on recalibrating the device. She takes out a vial of Kara’s DNA; gloved hands carefully inserting it unto the core of the device.

Now, onto the second part; linking her transmatter portal to open up at the exact coordinates the tracker points.

The whole process took her at least two hours. By the time she trudges to her bedroom to test the device, the sun was already peeking up from the horizon.

She opts to do it in her bedroom, granted that her physics lab was nothing more but the size of two small rooms mashed together. Her bedroom was more spacious and in the event that Kara needs to lie down, her bed would only be three steps away.

The device feels heavy in Lena’s hand, it actually feels alive. Lena supposes, it is.

It does have Kara’s DNA in it after all.

She feels like this is one of those moments where it will be ingrained in your brain for forever. That small in-between in the middle of the Before and After. The realization of how important this moment is clears up her mind.

So, with sweaty hands she raises the device, clicks something on her wristwatch, watches as the tube fills with a blue hue getting brighter and brighter, till a streak of blue-white light beams out from the device and from a single point starts to form the beginnings of a portal.

Lena’s seen one too many portal openings for a lifetime to know in the next instant that this is it, it works.

She fucking did it.

***

A gust of ice cold air is the first thing that hits Lena once the portal fully opens.

The next was the sight of Supergirl. Kara. She was slumped against a boulder; cape tattered, hair dirty and face begrimed. She looked tired, exhausted, and in those first few seconds, Kara had her eyes closed.

Before it hits Lena all at once, Kara’s right there! She’s right there! She found Kara! Kara is right there, just three steps away—

“KARA!” She shouts, runs to the portal and into the Phantom Zone.

Kara jerks at the call of her name, squints her eyes at the bright blue portal before she realizes a figure is barreling straight for her, screaming her name.

A figure she knows all too well, a voice she knows all too well.

Before she knows it Lena’s crashing unto her place on the ground, two arms wrapping at Kara’s neck, sobbing, “It worked! Oh, God, it worked, I found you! I found you, I found you-”

All Kara could do was mutter a Lena in response, still suspended in disbelief.

Lena pulls back to touch her face and Kara finally takes a good look at her. Lena knows her hair was a far cry from her prim ponytails, she’s been tugging at it since midnight, her face was blotchy with tears and her eyes must’ve screamed exhaustion. But she couldn’t care less about her appearance, because Kara was here, she found Kara.

Kara was here and she’s crying too, also bringing a hand to Lena’s face and wiping at her tears.

They were crying and smiling and sobbing in each other’s arms.

“You found me.”

Lena leans in to Kara’s touch, both hands cradling Kara’s hand on her cheek, smiles in between sniffles and nods.

“I did, Kara I did. I found you. I'll always find you.”

“Take me home, Lena.”

***

Alex picks up on the third ring.

“Lena?” she answers, voice still groggy with sleep.

“I found her, Alex, I found her, she’s home.”

“What? Who? Lena what-”

“Kara. Kara’s home, Alex.”

The next thing Lena hears were sobs. She passes the phone to Kara, who was still in her filthy supersuit, sitting on the edge of Lena’s queen bed probably making it dirty beyond saving but Lena cannot find in her to care.

“Hi, Alex.”

She exits the room to give the Danvers sisters some privacy and also to prepare Kara a shower, grabs a couple of Kara’s clothes from when they still had sleepovers and left it in the bathroom counter.

By the time she comes back again, Kara’s put the phone down, still sitting on the bed and fiddling with her thumbs. Kara looked small like this and there’s nothing more Lena wants to do than to embrace her.

So, she does.

“Hi,” Kara says, as she holds Lena close, Lena straddling her lap, foreheads pressed together.

“Hi back,” she whispers, smile in her voice, Kara’s blue eyes were filled with exhaustion but still beaming bright just for her. “Would you like to take a shower? I’ve prepared the bath for you.”

Kara nods, refusing to pull away, “Okay, okay, great,” she mutters even though the both of them make no move to pull away from each other, choosing to remain in this quiet existence of overwhelming love for each other’s presence, instead.

There’s still so much to say and so much to do, but all of that can wait, everything can wait, there’s no rush.

Her hero is finally home after all.

***

When she opens the door, Alex crashes into her with an embrace so tight, Lena had trouble breathing. Kelly closes the door for them, they drove here still in pajamas Lena notices, as Kelly gives her a smile from over Alex’s shoulder.

“Where is she?” Alex gasps out, tears springing from her eyes at the sight of Kara’s supersuit on the floor, right next to her grimy red boots. Concrete proof that her sister really is home, that Lena really did the impossible.

“In the shower,” Lena murmurs, giving Kelly a cup of tea as Alex paces in anticipation, Lena was half-afraid she’d wear a hole in her hardwood floors.

“H-how?” Alex asks, too emotional to let out a full sentence.

“Well,” Lena begins, and takes them through the entire process of what she had done the night before, how she didn’t sleep, how she kind of needs Brainy to scrub clean the LuthorCorp surveillance system, how she replicated Kara’s DNA as substitute for the life force in that crystal, how the portal had opened in her bedroom.

Alex took all of this in with quiet tears streaming down her face and Kelly’s hand tight in hers.

“Thank you, Lena. Thank you.”

***

The sight of the Danvers sisters reuniting was something that would make even a grown man weep.

Alex collides into Kara, before she even gets the chance to say her name.

“Rao, Alex, I missed you.”

Alex couldn’t respond to hearing her sister’s voice again for the first time, so she just sobs into the embrace.

Lena has to wipe away a stray tear or two before turning around, feeling like this moment was something too precious to intrude on.

This moment belonged to Kara and Alex, not her.

Kelly did the same and asked Lena if it would be okay to use her kitchen, she wanted to fix Kara her first breakfast.

***

“Are you sure you’d rather stay the night here?” Lena murmurs unto the crown of Kara’s head.

They were both laid in Lena’s bed, she doesn’t why she asked, when the both of them are already in pajamas and are two seconds away from slumber still Lena can’t help but ask.

Surely, Kara would want to spend her first night back in her own bed rather than here, right?

“M’sure, I’m right where I want to be,” Kara says around a yawn, pressing close to Lena, and nuzzling into her neck. She was clearly wearied, which was totally understandable, hell the both of them were. Lena’s been up for 24 hours. She’s amazed her body hasn’t knocked her out yet.

After that emotional morning, Alex insisted Kara be checked in The Tower. And so they did, everything was fine with her vitals, though they all still insisted she stay a couple of hours under the sunlamps. All of them knows, there was no sunlight in the Phantom Zone.

Nia, Brainy and M’gann all had teary reunions with Kara. Although, Nia’s was the most amusing one, “I’m sorry, in advance,” she said between sniffles, “But I just couldn’t think of anything and- and- Andrea was grilling me so I just said you were with Cat,” she sobbed.

“It’s okay, Nia,” Kara laughs, “We’ll work on it together,” she promises.

Seeing Kara back with everyone, seeing her in her pastel clothes, seeing her without her glasses; laughing and soft and safe has Lena crying quietly again at the memory.

“Hey? Why are you crying? This is a happy day, remember? I’m home. You brought me home. No more crying, okay?” Kara tells her from her place in the bed.

“I know.” Lena quickly wipes a tear, “I’m sorry, I’m just happy. So, so happy.”

She is. She really, really is. Especially right now, finally laying in bed with Kara after a long two weeks of lonely nights.

Kara requested to be held tonight, asking Lena shyly, “C-can you hold me? For tonight? Please?”

Lena was powerless and now here they were.

“For the record,” Lena says, “I’m right where I want to be, too.”

#ignore the science part i read like one article from ncbi and then wrote that shit in #sdfjklasdjf thats like stock knowledge from my past biochem lessons #anyways yeah cos i really think it's stupid that lena wouldn't have a back up plan or at least a replica of the tech #the reckless writer writes #supercorp ficlet of sorts #supercorp #supercorp fic #supergirl spoilers #rcklss writes

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Perks of the Job

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Non-Con/Rape, Bullying, Coercion, Abuse/Violence, Sexual Assault, Degradation

Prompt: “I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now.”

Summary: You realize far too late that you should have read the fine print of your job contract, questioned the golden egg that had fallen in your lap a little more as you stand face to face with the man you thought you had left far behind in your life.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Sunday, December 6th!)

Big thank you to @sawamooora for beta-reading this~

Even by his first year of high school, Oikawa is used to the attention, used to girls smiling and giggling at just a well practiced wink he sends their way. And although no one catches his interest, he thrives on the power he feels, the way he knows he has people so easily wrapped around his fingers with just a few rehearsed lines and a dash of his natural charm. So he’s surprised when he first encounters you.

Unlike everyone else, you don’t even pause as you pass him in the hallway, don’t even bother to turn for a quick look in his direction. Unlike like every other female, you keep your face focused forward and continue to class, completely tuning out the gaggle of giggling girls he has surrounding him. And suddenly his interest is peaked as he watches your retreating figure, a sharp gleam in his eyes and a new conquest in sight.

He uses every trick in the book at first, shooting coy smiles and flirtatious winks your way, cheerfully greeting you each morning at the front gates and walking you right to the doorway of your classroom, sometimes lingering around to exchange small talk if there was time before class started. You’re polite about it, although a bit hesitant, unsure what about you has caught his interest, uncomfortable with the glowering attention you’re receiving from the females around you, but he grits his teeth in frustration when you never reciprocate with anything more than a small smile and superficial words.

There’s only so long that one can keep a facade, even if it is almost like a second skin and bit by bit, Oikawa’s sheep-like fleece weathers down until snarling fangs and bared teeth are all that remains. You wince as he sharply tugs at your hair, glare as he purposefully knocks the items off your desk onto the floor, and lash out at him to his amusement when he repeatedly closes your locker on you. And although there’s bitterness inside of him that he’s had to resort to such uncouth methods, he can’t help the self satisfied smile when he has all your attention, when your rage filled eyes are locked on him and him alone, when you’re spitting venomous snarls just for him to hear.

So, he’s quite displeased when third year comes around and suddenly it’s like everyone’s biological clock has suddenly started to rapidly tick. Things are different now that they’ve officially entered adulthood.

His fangirls are touchier, more clingy, and although he rolls his eyes as they purposefully hike up their skirt and press their bodies against him when they talk, he doesn’t pull away. It wouldn’t be good for his image. And besides, being an adult means having fun doesn’t it?

So, to the dismay of Iwaizumi and the hoots and hollers of Hanamaki and Matsukawa, he has his fun, sneaking girl after girl into the locker room, the club room, even the equipment room.

But what infuriates him the most is the way seemingly every male suddenly has their eyes on you, the way your locker is filled to the brim on a daily basis with love notes, the way you’re now always surrounded by a flock of groveling boys all clamoring for your attention, the way he can’t even get close enough to do anything to you anymore, the way you seem to forget he even exists.

And that’s unacceptable.

He sends his fangirls to do his bidding and although it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s not the one personally wreaking havoc in your life, when he doesn’t get to see the look of pain and anger in your eyes up close and personal, there’s still a sense of contentment when he sees your tear stained eyes and ruined uniform from afar, the way you seem to shrink in on yourself in shame and embarrassment when you come out of the women’s locker room, the restroom, places only other female students can get to you, where there are no other eyes to protect you.

But his nails dig into his palms as his fists clench when he sees his fellow male classmates bending over backwards to comfort you, to help you, draping their uniform jackets over your shoulders to hide your disheveled uniform, cooing at your injuries as they gently lead you to the nurse’s office.

And if there’s anything Oikawa hates in the world, it’s losing.

He slams his fist in frustration as he feels you slipping further and further away from him, as he loses against Ushijima, as he loses against Kageyama, as he loses any chance of seeing his dreams of Nationals come true, as he loses in everything that ever mattered to him.

Maybe that’s why he drinks far more than he should at the third year house party, an early graduation party of sorts, a last hurrah before all of you go your separate ways. Maybe that’s why when he sees you, his eyes narrow in determination as he chugs the rest of his drink, despite Iwaizumi’s growl at him to slow down his intake. Maybe that’s why he seeks you out like a bloodhound looking for prey that it’s caught wind of.

And all he can think of as he corners you in an abandoned section of the house, forcing your body against the wall, feeling you helplessly push against him, watching fear and confusion fill your eyes, is that he needs a win - just one win.

But of course life has different plans for him and just as he’s shoved his legs between your thighs, just as one of his hands has slipped underneath your shirt to roughly knead one of your breasts, just as he’s crushed his lips against yours in something far too brutal to be considered a kiss, he’s being torn away from you. It’s only Iwaizumi’s familiar voice and face that keeps the ace from getting punched in the face as he snarls at Oikawa to get the fuck away from you and sober up. And all Oikawa sees is red when he briefly glances back once more before turning the corner, only to see his own best friend kindly hovering next to you, gently taking care of you and fixing your clothes for you, an uncharacteristic softness in green eyes as he looks at you.

Betrayal like he’s never felt before suffocates him as he watches the two of you tentatively begin to dance around each other in an awkward yet endearing courtship. He watches as he loses his best friend, watches as he loses the only woman who’s ever caught his interest, watches as the two of you walk off into your fairytale sunset together, hand in hand, never even glancing back at him as you both go off on your merry way together.

He’s not proud of the cruel smile that naturally stretches across his face when he hears that the two of you have broken up years later, a brief comment that Hanamaki slips into one of their happy hour catch-ups as the ex-Seijoh third years share a bottle (maybe a few bottles) of sake. But he fakes a look of concern and consolement, trying to conceal his curiosity as he lightly questions Iwaizumi about the break-up, airily asking what the reason was.

And he secretly grins as he excuses himself to the restroom when he thinks about the depressed slump of the ex-ace’s shoulders, the downcast look on his face. He cherishes his dear friend, but it’s nice to see someone suffer the same way he had, to share the pain of loss, to share the agony of losing you specifically.

But maybe lost things are meant to be found, he thinks, as he scans the resume handed to him when he enters his office the next morning, chocolate brown eyes gleaming when they see the familiar name neatly typed on the top of the page.

You're desperate.

After Iwaizumi and you had broken up, you had insisted on moving out and living on your own. Never mind the fact that Iwaizumi was paying for the majority of your old rent. Never mind the fact that you don't make nearly enough income to survive on your own. You had just wanted a clean break from the handsome man who had been such a large integral part of your life and despite the small part of you that pleaded to give this relationship another chance, to take him up on his offer to stay with him until you're in a better place to support yourself, you packed your bags and left.

And now here you are, living in an awful part of town, sirens blaring every few minutes, struggling to pay rent for the old decrepit studio that's barely big enough to fit even just your modestly sized bed. But you determinedly make do, putting on your one nice interview outfit and applying your makeup as best as you can despite the cracked bathroom mirror and flickering lights, before taking a deep breath and exiting your apartment.

You're not even sure how you landed an interview at such a prestigious company. Although being a secretary for one of their higher ups doesn't exactly sound like your dream job, when you saw what the salary range was, you leapt at the opportunity. Screw your pride. If faking a smile and acting like a glorified maid for a disgusting old man meant you were finally able to afford a decent quality life? So be it.

Nerves eat at you and your heart pounds as you anxiously wait for the interview to begin, but you're shocked when an employee steps inside the room only to distractedly ask you generic questions, questions you're sure just about anyone could answer, not even pretending to pay attention as he fiddles with his phone in front of you. You can’t help but wonder if this is a good or bad sign. Were you so unqualified that you were just a waste of time? Why even bother bringing you in for an interview if they had intended to turn you away right from the start?

But to your surprise when the quick and simple questioning is done, the interviewer just stands up with a smile and nonchalantly tells you that they'd be in touch soon. And true to his words, your cell phone rings not even a few hours later that same day and you gape as they extend an offer to you with a salary even higher than you had ever imagined, which you eagerly accept, not a trace of doubt or hesitation in your mind.

You meekly follow the friendly receptionist who leads you through the intimidatingly large office, the smell of coffee and the sounds of keyboards clacking and voices chattering swirling around you as you’re led further and further until you’re finally facing a solitary office, far from the bustling crowd of the main floor, reeking of status and power. And you force a tight smile on your face as you’re left alone, taking a deep breath before timidly knocking and opening the door when a voice beckons you in.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you and if you were jittery before at the prospect of a new job and a new boss, then you’re positively shaking now, trembling like a leaf in the wind when you see a face you hoped you would never see ever again, a face that still haunts you to this day, that brings back painful memories of a tormented childhood. And you wonder if you should quit right here, right now, cursing yourself for not asking more questions about exactly who your employer was, who you’d be working side by side with as their executive assistant.

You’re so lost in your panicked thoughts that you don’t register the tall figure approaching you, head whipping when your name is called in that lilted sing song voice of his and you shudder as familiar brown eyes gaze down at you.

“Oikawa…”

He smiles at your shivering figure and your frenzied wide eyes when you register exactly who you’re now working for. Pride soaring in his chest when he sees the impact he still has, the effect he still has on you, even after all these years. And he can’t help but circle around your frozen figure, admiring how you’ve grown and matured since he’d last seen you, purring at the way you instinctively lower your head in unconscious submission, not daring to meet his eyes as he closes his office door, flinching at the sound of the lock clicking in place.

It just wouldn’t do for anyone to interrupt such a special reunion.

You’re so predictable, it’s almost laughable. Oikawa has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he leans back against the closed door, blocking your one escape route out of this hell hole you’ve gotten yourself trapped in. It’s amusing listening to you stutter out some feeble attempt at a resignation, listening to you try to convince yourself and him that this must be a mistake, that surely you’re someone else’s secretary, not his, never his. And as cute as it is watching denial and pure terror dance across your face, he tires of your endless blathering and he maliciously grins at how quick you are to snap to attention and silence yourself when he barks at you to shut up.

But what he isn’t expecting is the sudden fire in your eyes, the resolved steeliness in your demeanor as you glare at him head on and maybe it’s a good thing that you’d spent so much time with Iwaizumi because this is going to be so much more fun than he could have possibly imagined.

The wolf inside of him gnashes his teeth and howls in amusement as you furiously give him a piece of your mind, rebuke him for how horrible and awful he was throughout highschool, haughtily tell him that this is the real world now and that you’re not going to let him just walk all over you, let him do whatever he wants. In fact, you’re leaving right now. You don’t need him or this stupid job.

And his grin sharpens as you hold your head up high while you make your way towards him and the door, not even hesitating as you move to shove him aside. But then he pounces and you can’t even scream as you’re suddenly shoved down, gasping as you painfully hit the ground.

He has to give you some credit though. Clearly dating an athletic trainer has done you some good and he winces just a bit as you thrust your knee into his abdomen, surprised by the force behind it. But the pain only fuels him more, the sharp pang grounding him, helping him concentrate as he pries apart your legs, his knees achingly pressing down into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs as he puts all his weight on top of you, chuckling when you wail at how his kneecaps painfully pin you down.

And he almost coos proudly at you as you try to sit up, as you try to support your upper body off the ground with your forearms and hands, as you try to find some leverage to get yourself out of your undesirable position. But all it takes is him digging his knee even further into your bruised leg and with a yelp you fall back down, snarling at him with pretty tears welling in the corner of your eyes as he leans forward, pinning you fully with his arms now trapping your wrists on the floor on either side of your head.

“Don’t be like this, cutie. You’re the one who accepted the job. Not my fault you were too dumb to even look into it carefully. But I guess a dumb bitch is always a dumb bitch.”

He smirks at the way his cruel words have you twisting and writhing underneath him with renewed fervor, but like an animal sensing that it’s nearing its end, you surprise him with a last vehement action as you spit in his face when your futile struggle falls flat. And as the thick glob slides down his face, his facade cracks and a sharp cracking sound pierces through the air before you’re suddenly seeing stars as heat rushes through your face from the impact of his palm.

“Listen to me. You’re going to shut the fuck up and behave. You’re going to stay as my secretary. You’re going to do every fucking thing I tell you to do. You know why? Because I own you. I could ruin your entire life with a single phone call - with the snap of my fingers. Your entire career, over, with just a single email. Good luck trying to afford even your shitty little apartment when you’re blacklisted from every corporation in this city.”

Oikawa hums in satisfaction when you finally still, fear and uncertainty twirling in your eyes as your bottom lip begins to tremble, liquid pooling in your tear ducts as you shakily stare at him. But he outright laughs in your face when you latch onto your one last hope.

“Hajime! I’ll tell Haji-”

You break off into a squeal when sharp teeth bury into the crook of your neck, tears streaming down your face as Oikawa leaves a mark that will last for at least a few days and you cringe at the feeling of his warm wet tongue tasting you, staining you.

“Iwa-chan? I wonder what he’d do if he knew you were with me right now. Would he trust his longtime childhood friend, his best friend who he still talks to and hangs out with almost everyday, especially now that you’ve left him all alone? Or would he trust the woman who broke his heart, who led him on for so many years, only to tell him you just “weren’t feeling it” anymore when he was about to propose?”

He lets out a derisive snort at the hurt in your eyes, the guilt he can practically see smothering you at his words.

“It’s okay, cutie. Of course you weren’t feeling it with Iwa-chan. You were just waiting for me all this time, right? So don’t worry. Relax. Let me make you feel good and make up for all the lost time, okay?”

And he beams when you don’t even resist in the slightest as he removes your clothing, as he hungrily explores every inch of you, calloused fingertips, lips, teeth, and tongue tracing every bit of you, tasting and feeling everything that’s been out of reach for so long.

A victorious grin spreads across his face at the slight moan you try to quickly muffle as he drags a wet trail to your nipples, tongue lightly flicking the hardening bud before his lips swoop in and harshly suck. He groans as your hips instinctively buck when his hand begins to toy with your other nipple and he grinds his straining cock against you.

But he lets out an irritated tsk as your hands feebly push at him, as your quivering voice begs him to stop, quickly silencing you with a rough twist of the nipple between his fingers and a feral warning look as he slides down his pants and boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring out.

And he briefly relishes the way your watery eyes are suddenly captivated by the sight of his impressive length. A sick sense of pride bubbles in his chest at the way you nervously gulp when he lines himself up with your entrance. You barely even have time to blink before he’s brutally slamming himself to the hilt inside of you with one rough thrust.

He hisses at how tight and warm you are, grits his teeth at the feeling of your nails clawing at his back and arms as he slams himself even deeper. Your pathetic cries make him even harder as you desperately scramble to accommodate his size.

He drowns himself in the intoxicating feeling of your walls clamping down on him, the sound of your strangled voice screaming his name mixing with the clapping sound of skin meeting skin as he pistons in and out of you relentlessly, starting a brutal pace right from the start, ignoring the terror and hurt laced in your screams as he hones in on your sweet voice repeating his name over and over again, hones in on the fact that every ounce of your attention is on him, that he’s all you can think of and feel in the moment and he wishes this moment could last forever.

But that’s impossible and he can feel his end approaching, his rhythm becoming erratic, his body tensing, and with a few more slams of his hips against yours, he’s spilling deep inside of you, moaning as he makes a mess of your insides, careful not to let even a single drop escape as he pulls out and quickly slips your panties back on you, trapping his essence inside of you.

You’re still limp on the floor as he stands up, casually stretching his arms above his head with a yawn before tucking himself back into his pants, brushing himself off as he makes his way to his desk. And he hums as he turns on his computer, not even glancing at the pathetic sight you make, sprawled out, naked aside from the pair of panties he had generously helped you with, your face a mess of dried tears and saliva, your hair a tousled mess.

But you flinch when he finally speaks as you muster the will to slowly dress yourself, the will to ignore the pounding ache and dripping mess between your legs, his carefree tone tearing your self-esteem to shreds as he just continues typing emails all the while.

“Hurry up and get to work. That’s what you’re getting paid for after all. You can consider what just happened a perk of the job and I’ll be sure to give you a lot of extra bonuses while you’re with me. Looking forward to working together.”

Bile rises in your throat at his flippant words and the flirtatious wink he sends your way. For a second you hesitate, staring longingly at the locked door. But even with your back turned to him, you can still feel his piercing gaze boring holes into your soul. You know deep down in your gut that his threat isn’t just empty words, that as hard as life is now, it would be complete and utter hell the moment you stepped out of his office without his permission. You know that in the end, you’d be left with no other option than to come crawling back to him, groveling for mercy when your bank account is running on less than empty, when you’re forced out onto the streets.

So, as humiliating as it is, you limp over to the smaller desk situated in the corner of the office, every step a crushing blow to your self worth and pride, grimacing as you begin to feel something thick and sticky threaten to leak from between your thighs. And you obediently sit, blinking back the tears as you turn on your own company-issued laptop, shifting uncomfortably as your aching body comes in contact with the solid surface of your chair, raising the ringing phone to your ear.

“This is Oikawa Tooru’s office. How may I help you?”

#haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #tw: abuse #tw: violence #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: bullying #tw: coercion

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binxyu · 3 years

Text

You’ve never really been in a relationship. Hyunjae knew that and it only made him want you more. You were so pure and he wanted to show you what real pleasure felt like. He wanted to be your first and last in everything.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | best friend!hyunjae x innocent!reader

>>Word Count: 3.2k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Cockwarming, corruption, cumplay, fingering, food, hair pulling, oral (receiving), overstimulation, possessiveness, scratching, size kink, spitting, and unprotected sex

“Hyunjae! Hold up!”, your best friend turned around when he heard his name, his eyes meeting your’s. A beautiful eye smile took the place of his once cold gaze, warming your heart immediately.

“Want to move our movie night to tonight? I have a date tomorrow”, you failed to notice how Hyunjae’s smile faltered from the mention of the date, but he fixed his expression quickly before nodding. He was jealous. He knew that.

But, it wasn’t like he really had a claim over you. He just wished he did.

“Sure, can you come over at six? I won’t be home before then”, his arm found its way around your shoulder as it always did. Hyunjae’s friends had already gotten into their cars, annoyed by the constant sight of you two. It was so obvious to everyone how in love you both were. Of course, you two didn’t pick up on that.

Friends don’t hold hands in public when someone gets too close to the other. Friends don’t give each other sweet kisses on the cheeks. And, most importantly, Friends don’t fantasize about each other.

Hyunjae would never admit it but his knowledge of your innocence fueled the deepest desires in his mind.

“That’s fine! I wanna get a stuffie for tonight so that sounds perfect”, you smiled happily and waved goodbye to him before running off. Hyunjae chuckled as he felt another wall come crashing down. A wall that protected his emotions from you.

He only had a few walls left before it would be too late.

Hyunjae heard the doorbell ring and he quickly made his way to the door, looking through the small peephole there to make sure it was who he was expecting. It was.

There you were. You were standing there patiently in one of the hoodies he had let you borrow with a pair of gym shorts underneath. If it wasn’t for the little glimpses of black he could see, he would have thought you weren’t wearing pants at all.

But, what made his heart really pick up its pace was the big stuffed animal held tightly in your arms. He knew where you had gotten the big brown bear because you got them all at the same place.

It was the place you two had met. A little arcade on the other side of the city with as many claw machines as possible. They were crammed together, but you loved the little place and you never failed to spot the new stuffed animals in the machines.

At first, you were horrible at the game and Hyunjae could only watch for a few hours from his place behind the register as you kept trying, spending all the coins you had gotten. You were determined and that was what attracted the man towards you. You never gave up even when it was unlikely you were going to win at all.

Of course, as an employee, Hyunjae knew all the tricks to getting what you wanted from those games and how they tricked their customers into doing exactly what you were. Spending all their money.

Thus, Hyunjae couldn’t resist and had helped you win as many of the cute animals as he could with what you had left. Even if it cost him his job.

“Got lucky again?”, Hyunjae grinned and the smile that spread across your face was so overwhelmingly sweet that it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. You quickly nodded and held up the bear for him to see better.

His hands stroked the bear’s fake fur and he smiled, admiring how soft it was.

Hyunjae’s eyes wondered around and he finally snapped back to reality when he realized all eyes were on you in his hallway, their eyes trailing down your body to your bare legs.

You were much too innocent and dense to realize when people were checking you out and Hyunjae knew that. You always wanted to see the best in people and it was an admirable trait but a dangerous one too.

“Well, come inside then you lucky charm”, you giggled happily from the nickname, the taste of the cereal practically reintroducing itself on your tongue at the mention of your favorite breakfast. Hyunjae chuckled when he realized you were too busy fantasizing about food to come inside so he gently pulled you inside and closed the door, relief flooding through his system now that no more eyes were on you.

“Do you have any?”, puppy eyes were one of Hyunjae’s biggest weaknesses, especially when they’re from you. Hence why you were doing them to try to get the food you were now craving: lucky charms.

Hyunjae was moving to shake his head to tease you, but you cut him off.

“Come on! It’s April Fools day! You have to have some kind of lucky or unlucky food. What kind of establishment is this?”, you whine playfully and your best friend laughed, picking you up easily and resting you on his shoulder.

“Alright alright. I’ll get you some lucky charms”, a happy smile spread across your face as Hyunjae set you down on a stool at the counter, fixing you a bowl of cereal.

“What movie should we watch tonight?”, you swung your legs as you took a bite of the cereal, humming from the sweet taste hitting your tongue. You resembled a chipmunk with your cheeks all stuffed with food and Hyunjae laughed as he thought of the perfect movie.

“Alvin and the chipmunks?”, your eyes widened in disbelief when you realized he only said that to tease you. You chucked your spoon at him like a toddler, flinging food onto the floor.

“Hey! You brat!”, he huffed and your cheeks went red, embarrassment evident when you realized what you just did. You wouldn’t let him know that though.

“Don’t call me a-”, you were cut off by a harsh tug on your hair, your lips connecting with Hyunjae’s as he held you close. Your body jolted slightly in shock before you relaxed, never having been kissed before. It felt foreign and weird at first, the pieces not fitting quite right at first.

Hyunjae guided you through it, tilting your head slightly and everything was finally perfect. You kissed him back shyly as his large hands cupped your cheeks reassuringly. To him, you, and everything you were doing, was perfect.

“Oh, believe me, you’re a brat”, his teasing smirk was put on display when he pulled away, looking at how swollen your lips had become from just one kiss.

“An innocent little brat”, even if you were more innocent that most people your age, you could hear the underlying meaning behind Hyunjae’s words. You felt arousal sticking to your thighs and, while that too was foreign, you knew what it meant.

You only felt that way when Hyunjae was around and now it was so much worse.

You gulped and Hyunjae noticed, making a grin appear on his handsome face. His hands cupped your face again as his eyes scanned your every feature, specifically the shy way your eyes wandered around the room to avoid his piercing gaze and the bright blush on your cheeks.

“You’re so adorable. I could just eat you up”, your eyes made the mistake of wandering back when you heard his voice and something predatory was hidden in Hyunjae’s. Your gaze didn’t dare move away from his own as a new found bravery filled your mind. You knew what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Then do it”, that was probably the most filthy thing Hyunjae had ever heard you say. He didn’t even think you were capable of thinking such things, but here you were. It was all he needed to hear.

“My pleasure, princess”, he walked around the counter, your bowl of cereal long forgotten now that you knew something much more delicious was waiting for you. Hyunjae picked you up and laid you down on the table, noticing the nervousness in your body. You were shaking and worry overtook his lust.

“Are you sure you want this?”, he pressed his forehead against your’s softly in hopes to calm your anxiety. You nodded quickly but paused when you decided to voice your concerns.

“What if I’m not up to, um, standards? I don’t know what I’m doing”, Hyunjae immediately shook his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. That alone calmed your shaking immensely, warmth rushing through you now that you felt safe.

“You will be. Just let me take care of you, okay?”, you nodded and relief had overridden Hyunjae’s worry. He slowly pulled your shorts and panties down your legs, opting for keeping the hoodie on you as his own little reminder that it would mean something else by the end of the night. It would no longer just be a friend’s hoodie. It would be a lover’s hoodie.

It was so big on you and Hyunjae had to push the piece of clothing up to your waist to see what he was really after. There, on his dining table like a piece of dessert, was the thing he had been longing for for months.

“Aw, you’re so wet”, the man cooed and you squirmed when you felt his cold breath where you needed him most. That alone was more pleasure than you had ever received by yourself. The truth was: you had no clue how to make yourself feel good. You noted in your mind to remind yourself to ask Hyunjae how to later.

“Ready?”, the softness of your crush’s palms against your thighs as he spread them open surprised you, making your eyes fall to between your legs. Hyunjae looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger as met your face.

“Ready”, the words fell from your lips after a deep breath, your back arching as soon as Hyunjae’s lips surrounded your clit, sucking on the engorged nerve. It almost seemed like the man had read your mind about your previous note as his hand guided your own down to your leaking hole.

Your mind was too fuzzy from the pleasure, but you could register how your own middle finger began to stretch you out. You were so tight and small that even that burned a little, but you ignored it as a loud moan spilled from your lips.

Hyunjae chuckled, sending vibrations to your clit as his eyes looked down a little, watching as your desperate pussy clenched around your small finger. His own hands rubbed little circles on your hips as your legs shook, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm.

“W-what is happening?”, your voice was small and weak, making Hyunjae fill with pride that he could make you this ruined this fast.

“You’re going to orgasm, princess. Just relax and let it happen”, the knot in your stomach grew more powerful as Hyunjae moved your own finger away and replaced it with his own much longer and larger ones, scissoring your tight hole open. The knot finally snapped and your body thrashed as the overwhelming pleasure released. Hyunjae slowly thrusted his fingers to help you ride it out and placed soft kisses on your thighs before he pulled them out.

“You’re already such a mess and we’ve just started”, a whimper fell from your lips as Hyunjae’s kisses trailed downwards and he used his hands to spread open your lips, the sight of your glistening hole entering his vision. He licked his lips and thrusted his tongue inside of you, swirling the muscle around to collect your cum and taste you.

“You taste just as sweet as your food”, a small laugh filled the room and you giggled, knowing that he meant the cereal that you were eating. Your laugh was cut short though when he dove back in, being insatiable now that he had finally had a taste of you.

Your eyes watered from the overstimulation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Hyunjae. Not when he seemed so happy and you felt this good. You had never felt this good before. Even with the little bits of pain mixed in.

Your hands tugged on Hyunjae’s hair and he stopped, looking up at you with worry. You gave him a reassuring smile to let him know that you were okay, but the sight of your juices running down his chin made another wave of want go through you. Now you really needed him to ruin you. To take you.

“I’m ready”, he understood what you meant and he picked you up, giving you the most loving and tender kisses he could as he brought you to his room. Your back hit his soft bed once he lowered you onto it and you looked up at him, smiling as you gently twirled a strand of his hair with your finger.

His hands worked on unbuttoning his jeans and you shook your head with a small pout. That pout alone almost made Hyunjae rip his clothes off and just take you like he wanted to.

“Let me do it”, you sat up and tried to unbutton them the best you could. It took a little longer than you expected but you did it and Hyunjae gave you a proud smile when he saw your victorious one.

“You’re acting like you just won a reward”, Hyunjae teased as he gently shoved you back to lay down as he took his shirt off, watching as your entire face went red.

“Hey! It was hard”, there it is again. That pout.

“Well, there’s something else harder”, his eyebrows wiggled playfully as he started to slowly push himself inside of you, a groan escaping his mouth as he can practically feel himself splitting you open. A gasp escapes you and Hyunjae kisses you to help ease you through it, a gentle kiss that told you it would all be better in a few minutes.

His thumbs gently wiped away your tears and he watched as your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as pleasure overtook the pain. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you gave a short nod before you looked down at your stomach.

Hyunjae followed your gaze and groaned at the sight of his bulge so evident in your lower tummy. His hand trailed down to stroke the skin above it, moving his hips slightly to feel the bulge move beneath his hand.

“Fuck, look how good you’re taking it. You’re made for my cock, hmm?”, you immediately nodded, not a doubt in your mind now that he was here hovering above you, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you think it’s rubbing against your cervix.

“Y-yeah I’m made for it. Move please”, the slight shakiness in your voice made something snap inside of Hyunjae and he pulled out of you only to slam back in much faster and harder. Your nails dug into his shoulders from the sudden return of the pleasure, a divinely beautiful moan coming out of you.

You gasped when you heard a slam against the wall beside you and Hyunjae laughed, kissing you gently before he explaining.

“We might have to be a little more quiet”, excitement and embarrassment bubbled in the pit of your stomach when you remembered you were in an apartment building. Apartment buildings result in many apartments and many... neighbors.

Hyunjae smiled at you before he looked down and you felt something cold hit your skin. Looking down, you realized he spat on your cunt, thrusting it inside of you to help ease himself even deeper inside of you.

That sight alone made another orgasm start to build up inside of you as his big cock kept hitting that perfect spot inside of you. Hyunjae noticed and quickly shoved two of his fingers inside of your mouth to keep you quiet. You sucked on them as if they were a lollipop you had been craving for years. Not that that was too much of an exaggeration.

Hyunjae just couldn’t stop staring at you. The girl he thought was so innocent was now so corrupted by him. It was everything he had ever dreamed of. You below him with his dick shoved deep inside of your little pussy, his fingers in your mouth, and scratches down his back.

The only issue was that you hated hurting others and you realized you were scarring Hyunjae’s back. Your eyes looked around for anything else to hold onto reality and you laid eyes on your big stuffed bear. You gripped it and held it in a tight hug, making Hyunjae’s cock twitch inside of you.

While he loved the scratches on his back, seeing you holding onto something seen as innocent while he ruined you was even better.

“How cute. Can you not take it?”, your eyes rolled back as Hyunjae started thrusting faster, your nails now digging into the toy you had worked so hard to get only a few hours prior. Your legs shook and you tried to close them to slow him down only for Hyunjae to use his free hand to keep your legs spread. Your cunt clenched around him and he could feel his own orgasm approaching, his cock begging for release.

Cumming inside of you would be beautiful and sloppy, but Hyunjae had other ideas as he rubbed your clit. You came all over his cock with a muffled whine as you sucked harder on Hyunjae’s fingers in hopes to keep yourself quiet.

Hyunjae pulled out and came all over lower half, coating your thighs and lower stomach in his seed and who he had considered to be the most innocent person in the world was now covered in his filth.

Heavy breathing was heard for a while before the man finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth and looked you in the eye as he used them to smear his cum around, trying to smother it across any surface he could.

“I ripped him”, your eyebrows furrowed adorably as you looked down at the slight tear in the bear’s arm.

“We’ll fix him, baby. Don’t worry”, Hyunjae moved to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you. He could feel his cum rubbing onto his own skin from the close proximity but he could care less.

“Okay! What was it like for you?”, your eyes lit up with curiosity as you thought about if you had done good. All you wanted was to make Hyunjae happy.

“Like a warm hug. It was amazing”, you looked at his face for any sign of lying and he shook his head in disbelief, kissing all over your face. An idea popped into your head as you rested it underneath his chin.

“Then can we sleep like that? The warm hug?”, it wasn’t Hyunjae’s intention for you to associate hugging with sex, but he couldn’t complain. Not when it was so cute.

“Of course. Let’s hug”, you grinned and wrapped your own arms around him, hooking your leg around his waist so he could slide back inside of you.

And you two slept, feeling completely together through your “hugging”.

#binxyu #hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #the boyz #tbz oneshots #the boyz oneshots #tbz smut #hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz headcannons #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Maybe some inspiration for a yandere kitsune atsumu fic?? I just imagine him coming across you hiking in the woods one day and he’s like “you’re cute I’m gonna keep you!” He thinks it’s cute to have a pet, something that is his alone that no one else can have

Oooh, thank you! I love the idea! Enjoy!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

This wasn’t how he usually did things, but what about him was ever normal?

If Atsumu wanted to mingle with humans, he’d go down to the town at the foot of the mountain. Roam its street, flirt a little with the giggling girls he met, or play with the children. In the hundreds of years he lived, he sometimes needed the change from his otherwise dull life. Atsumu was way too strong to brawl with the other creatures, and his own kind was too proud and traditional to be around of. So all he did was eat and sleep, occasionally do some trickery or run from the rain. It wasn’t a very fulfilling life to him; he didn’t even have a mate to share his days with, so what really was there left for the bored kitsune?

But you, you weren’t a usual thing either.

Few to none ever got lost in the forest that coated the mountain he lived on. There were too many rumors about strange creatures inhabiting these lands, of people going missing and turning up talking nonsense about what they experienced here. And even then, if someone wandered up here, it was usually an old monk with spiritual powers on a pilgrimage who could find their way around.

So what were you up to in his part of the forest? Perhaps you were lucky it was just his territory, or you might have already been torn up by an oni or lead astray by anything else. Instead, Atsumu had been following and watching you for a while as you moved through the lands. He waited patiently while you rested at the river and shushed away some of the animals that came too close to you for his liking. You might not recognize a deer as something dangerous, but he didn’t like thinking about the marks it would leave if it decided to bite. But now you were closing in on the end of his territory, and from then on, he wouldn’t be able to watch over you anymore, instead, having to go back to his utterly boring day in his utterly boring life.

That’s not what he wanted to let happen.

“Leaving already?” you heard behind you, instantly turning around in surprise to hear a human voice in the uninhabited forest. Even though you were tense, you didn’t seem immediately alarmed by his presence, Atsumu hiding his more extraordinary features behind magic. “Who are you?” you asked him curiously, and he lifted a hand, pointing back into his territory.

“I take care of the temple here. Not many humans come across it, have you made an offering?”

Imitating to be a shrine caretaker seemed to work as your shoulders relaxed, and you turned to him fully, flight instinct dispersing. “I must have missed it. I’m sorry...”

“No problem,” Atsumu was quick to chime up happily. “I can show you where it is. You wouldn’t want to continue on your way without divine protection, would you?”

Hesitating, you looked back at the path over your shoulder before shaking your head. “Certainly not. It can’t hurt to have some protection on this mountain, can it?”

You quickly caught up to him, and Atsumu laughed as you implied the rumors, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you believe in yokai?” he teased you, and you quickly spluttered that you weren’t afraid of these things, putting on a brave face. However, twiddling with your thumbs gave away that you did mind - a lot.

Cute, Atsumu thought.

You soon enough started to tell him all about your adventure after he initiated the conversation with, “What are you doing here?” telling him you were just wandering to get some clarity of mind. Atsumu took the time you were talking excitedly to study your features. Humans were all so unique, and even if he was able to imitate their looks, he always found himself mesmerized. Foxes usually had just one topic when it came to looks: How unique and shiny is your coat? But it was different for humans. They dyed and cut their hair as they wanted, changed their bodies significantly over time. Their noses were all very different, eyes as unique as their gestures or voices. Humans were so much more interesting than the other kitsune, even if Atsumu didn’t envy how weak they were.

“There we are,” he interrupted you merrily at the foot of the staircase leading to the temple. There really were old, rotten temple grounds on top of the steps, but one you wouldn’t be allowed to see. Humans had long forgotten and abandoned this place, justifiable even, as it was too hard to reach and maintain. No one could even come here with all these dangers. But back in the days, he remembered how much he loved watching the humans build it and pray at it, before when the humans still co-existed well with the spiritual world. But it wasn’t like when he was a little cub anymore. It was his home still, but not one he would show you.

“Well then,” you chuckled nervously, eyeing the stairs. You two began the climb in silence, your eyes mainly on the unmaintained steps, trying not to fall over them. Even focused, you were quite the adorable one, and he appreciated how chipper and optimistic you had been all the way here. Yes, you certainly were a special human, Atsumu decided, his determination only strengthening the magic that was forming halfway up the stairs.

With how little you looked up, you didn’t notice how the stairs kept coming and coming, as if in a loop. Only the feeling of exhaustion was growing on your part, but when you finally looked up, Atsumu could see your eyes growing wide with the wonders you were seeing.

“Do you like it?” he asked, inching closer to you. You were so amazed by the gold and red of the beautiful, large temple spreading out before you, you didn’t notice him taking a whiff of your scent, a mix of soap and sweat, but nothing he found terribly appalling. After all, it was your scent, and he’d find you with it no matter where you went. The scent of his human.

With a delighted giggle, you took the last three steps, leaving Atsumu behind as you looked around you. You seemed to be in awe by how beautiful the temple was that it even made Atsumu forget for a second that this was just how he created it with his magic. “Who’d have thought there’d be such a beautiful temple in the middle of nowhere,” you mumbled before finally turning around to your guide.

“You must be taking really good care--”

Only then did you notice the prominent features of a fox spirit peeking out of his hair, his tail slowly wagging behind him. Of course, in a world of his magic, he’d not be able to keep up the appearance of a human, but you had long crossed the borders to the spiritual realms. It didn’t matter anymore if you recognized him or not.

Still, you backed away in shock while Atsumu always drew closer to you no matter how many steps you took back. “I am glad you like it. Why don’t you stay here?” he asked, and panic spread in you as you looked around to find a way out. Only briefly did you look to your left and then him again before you bolted. You were quick, but if he had run after you, he would have been faster, no question asked.

Instead, Atsumu approached his home - the place he lived in all alone until now - calmly, sitting down at the stairs to the temple and waiting for the loop to bring you back. No matter how far you ran, you eventually stumbled back onto the property, falling to your knees as you didn’t expect the open space. “Welcome back,” he greeted you, and even more panic crossed your expression. For every sadistic spirit, this would have been the absolute height of pleasure, seeing their prey so desperate, but Atsumu concentrated on the most important things.

He’d need to create a room for you. A room fit for a human, where you could feel at home while you stayed here with him. “Do you like beds or futon more?” he asked you as you stumbled back over the temple grounds the second time. You gave him a confused and flabbergasted look before booking it into the other direction again. Even if he wasn’t like the other kitsune, Atsumu decided to keep it traditional with a futon.

It took you three more times before you came to a halt in front of him, asking, “Why? Let me go! I want nothing to do with the likes of you!”

“Ah, too bad,” Atsumu sighed, standing up, and for the first time, you looked up to him properly, like the good tiny human you were. Even at your size, Atsumu was a towering force, making you feel relatively small next to him, a mere illusion from his magic. You wanted to complain as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up close to his body as if he tried to melt you two together, taking another deep breath. “I always wanted my own human. Everyone said how great it is to have one just for myself, and here you are.”

He felt you shiver in his arms at his words, and it brought a smile to his face. “You’re so adorable~ Why don’t you just stay here with me and let me have you?”

“N-No!” you said firmly, using his moment of inattention to push him away roughly. “Your kind just wants to play with us and make us crazy! I want to go home! I won’t play with you!”

“Play?” Atsumu mumbled before a broad smile grazed his lips. “Do I look like a child to you? I have no such intentions. If you want to leave, by all means, leave. I know you’ll come back all on your own.”

Anger festering in your expression, you huffed before turning on your heels, running towards and down the long staircase. How could he be so sure that you’d come back? Well, you were long caught in his realm, and he had sent out the invitations to everyone on the mountain to look at his darling little human.

It was just before sunset that you crawled back to him, having seen the horrors of true monsters that wanted nothing more than to drool on you and laugh about how pitiful you were. Maybe Atsumu did want to play with you a little bit, make you a little crazy, but mostly show you there were worse creatures waiting if you left his side. Instead, he’d keep you with him safe and sound, his arms wide open as you returned, making you fall right into his lap and into the comfort he offered to you, brushing over your head as tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I’ll definitely leave tomorrow,” you announced bitterly. “Sure, sure~” he merely pitied you, picking you up and carrying you inside the temple. In a few weeks, this would probably get boring, but by then, he’d surely come up with another method to keep you busy. And until then, he had a futon to share with you and a world you could never escape from until he decided to let you go.

But why would he ever let such a cute, amusing human go?

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more-than-canon · 3 years

Text

Hannigram headcannons that I'm personally obsessed with.

- every time will gets even the slightest hint of sickness hannibal drops everything to care for will.

- in return hannibal never would admit to being sick unless he is bed ridden and just wants to cling to will.

- will keeps denying kisses when hannibal is ill because he doesnt want to get sick and this makes hannibal more grumpy

- hannibal is just a clingy person in general

- will gets sweaty easily and its worse in the summer because no mattter how hot it is hannibal always is culed around will when they sleep

- will has his arms wrapped around hannibal to pull him closer in the winter

- this has hannibal have his head in will neck because he loves the sent of will

- they are equal in every way thats why they switch in sex

- will gets more out of killing when he feels they deserved it, so will choses the victim and hannibal choses how they are killed and the organ taken

- they both agree if the body should be displayed or not and if they decide yes, they take turns adding things till they are satisfied

- will tried to cut his hair to be more anonymous after the fall but hannibal was protective over it

- hannibal right after the fall was careful with will because he thought it was all a dream and that it was temporary

- hannibal only stopped thinking this when will proposed

- hannibal gived will all these terms of endearment like mylimasis, beloved, love, my heart ect while will just calls hannibal babe

- hannibal gets all dewy eyed when will calls him babe

- they do alot of pda but its all just hand holding, they find kissing is somthing only seen by them (and their enemies Who would die after seeing it)

- will speaks more through actions, he would be the one to hug hannibal from the back or giving pecks on the cheek

- will doent blush but when he gets flustered he punches hannibal in some way

- will loves his flannels and dosent lets hannibal replace them

- although hannibal secretly wears them when will is away for more than a day

- they share hannibals accounts but will does not let hannibal try and spoil him, will when he buys things still had the habbit of looking for the cheapest stuff

- the only exception is when hannibal wants to go to a social event and will knows that hannibal would go to great lengths to make will look amazing

- nice pieces of clothing that are fitted to wills size, still mysteriously end up in his side of the closet

- they are never jelous but are insanely posessive over eachother, they know they are loyal to eachother but that wont stop another persons wondering hands

- they developed a lenguage of tapping their fingers to determine the others feelings without needing to look at eachother. Like when talking to someone

- hannibal still holds dinner partys but only for small groups up to four

- will fixes boat moaters for the people around town and they pay him even though he insists he would do it for free

- every Christmas will tries to find an uglier tye to give to hannibal that he wears with pride.

- when a permanent home is established will takes in a stray that was on the brink of death that he grows very attached to

- the dog is a big fluffy mix breed of some sort, will isnt exactly sure what. But hannibal agrees because he had also gotten attached

- he wont ever admit it though, just saying it was because he wanted will happy

- will still takes in strays but he keeps them only till they are healthy then dropps them off at the local shelter

- will still dinks instant coffee because it is easy to make but wont say no to hannibals fancy coffe, he doesnt really tate a difference though

- will is a decent cook, and can make a mean chicken soup for when hannibal gets sick but mainly his lazyness wins out leaving basically all the cooking to hannibal

- will cleans after, usually with hannibal in the room reading his kindle

- will reconsiles with molly two years after the fall, they sort out divorde papers and just talk

- molly is dating a man that will can genuinely tell has her best interest in heart and in return will tells her about his and hannibals domestic life

- they part ways with a hug happy with the way things have ended

- hannibal is waiting by the door when will gets home weaing wills flannel that will had worn yesterday and put in the laundry

- they dont talk about it, instead will just walks up to hannibal hughing him tightly to his chest

- will sleeps on the right side of the bed with hannibal on the left

- hannibal idely wrapps wills curls around his finger when will lays in his lap, most of the time hannibal doesnt notice he is doing it

#nbc hannibal #hannibal textpost #my posts #will #hannibal #hannigram #murder husbands

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

It’s Alright, I’ve Got You.

Requested?: Yep! @gingeraleluke sent it in and of course I had to write it. One of Dwight’s weapons falls from under a table and Y/N steps on it, prompting Jim to go full blown protective bf even though no-one knows they’re dating!

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: I solemnly swear to write as much Jim Halpert fanfiction as y’all want. He is a bean and I love writing Office-universe stuff. After that smut that I released, we do need some fluff though.

Warning: gore, and descriptions of injury. Otherwise, floof.

You couldn’t remember the last time a storm raged with such force over Scranton, but it did little to keep you in your flat that Tuesday morning. Perhaps, in hindsight, it was a bad omen, a warning of things to come, but you we determined that morning, too stubborn to call in sick or wait for the pouring rains to soften their attack.

That morning, you washed and dried your hair like it wasn’t about to frizz in the humidity, you put on waterproof mascara and set your face with hope the makeup wouldn’t run; you ate your breakfast and drank your first cup of coffee of the morning like the roads outside weren’t a few raindrops from flooding; and you left your apartment, an umbrella over your head as you trotted to your car and tried to ignore the water splashing onto your tights. With a few flips of the key, clearing the exhaust of water, you started your car and breathed a sigh of relief once you were on your way to work. The rain had done little permanent damage, and you were hopeful you would find a parking spot close to the door.

Today was important for you, a meeting with clients at the office to discuss a major shipment you and Jim had been organising for months now, the last thing you wanted to do was be late for it. The job itself was uninteresting to say the least, but you knew you wouldn’t let yourself let Jim down. He was your best friend, your sales partner, and as of recently, the realised love of your life.

Of course, you hadn’t told your co-workers, apart from Pam; but she was a trusted confidante. Apart from her, your relationship was very much private, how both of you liked it for the moment. There was no too-personal questions about sex from Michael, no creepy postulations from Dwight, no dirty glances from Angela for being ‘ruined’: in short, you had peace to work through your relationship at your pace, and it was going great as a result. You’d tell them all soon, obviously, but when was still undetermined.

You slowed at a stop light, your windscreen wipers struggling to keep your window clear for the sheer amount of rain, and you signalled left, deciding to turn on your fog lights on top of your low beams. The roads were too treacherous to avoid safety, and you felt safer as you turned onto the main road, joining a stream of traffic heading into the centre of Scranton, though it was thinner than usual.

The trip to work took longer than usual, but you still arrived early, and gave yourself a moment to prepare yourself for the dash to the door. You tucked your keys into your purse, planning to lock your car from the reception, and you checked your makeup in your rear mirror once more, making sure that your lips were still unsmudged, that the mascara was holding up the title of waterproof. With a final check you had collected your belongings, you kicked your car door out and opened your umbrella against the ice-cold pellets of aqua. You were swift, careful in your heels to avoid drains and broken cement blocks on the path that could splash more water on you.

“Mind if I share?” A voice called through the din of water hitting the ground, and you found a rather wet Jim by your side, his frozen hands coming to your waist and urging you forward as you both fended off the rain with your umbrella. Once you had gotten under the entryway, you shook out your saving grace and closed it, turning to find Jim holding open the front door for you.

“Halpert, you look like a drenched dog.” You stated in place of thanking him for the courtesy, walking into the Scranton Business Park building that housed Dunder Mifflin. Jim followed, deciding to play the part you had assigned and shake the water from his hair, spraying your dress skirt with rainwater. You squealed at the action, letting down your professional demeanour to giggle at the goof you called a boyfriend. After a quick glance behind you to see if anyone was around, you pulled Jim over to you by a sopping wet tie and pressed your lips to his. Sweet, chaste, a secret gesture.

“I always knew you were a dog person.” He responded, capturing your lips once more with a cheeky smile. “Good morning, Y/L/N…” He grinned, sauntering toward the elevator like he hadn’t left your breathless at 8.32 in the morning. You followed after him, the doors opening and both of you stepping into the lift. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the steel, fixing your lipstick quickly as you shot up to your floor. You felt a presence behind you, Jim’s hands resting on your waist for a second time, and you could make out his hazy reflection in the metal.

“Are you still up for a movie tonight?” You asked, unable to stop the blush that rose on your cheeks as Jim’s lips pressed onto the top of your hair, which had managed to survive the weather rather miraculously.

“Like I could ever say no to you.” Jim responded, lifting one of your hands and holding it in his own. Despite the size difference, they fit together perfectly. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek just before the doors opened to your floor, and just as soon as he was there he was gone, off into the office. You tried to quell the smile that had caused dimples in your cheeks as you walked in, but failed rather miserably.

“Why are you so happy?” Were the first words you were greeted with as you came through the door to the office, from a rather moody Dwight of all people. You took off your coat, Pam not yet at her desk for a greeting, and walked over to your desk across from the spectacled asshole, seating yourself and exaggerating the smile into a maniacal grin.

“You know Dwight, people are allowed to be happy in spite of the weather. You’d know if you had ever experienced real emotion. Tell me, do robots need to go in for MOTs?” You were quick and sharp with your tongue when you wanted to be, and earned a chuckle from Jim, who had begun printing off the last of the files needed for the day’s meeting.

“If I were a robot, Y/N, I’d be part of a superior race. Your flesh vessel would be no match for my metal structure.” Dwight countered, and Jim looked over from the copy machine.

“You hear that? Sounds like something a robot would say.” Jim shrugged, sending a wink your way.

The rest of your co-workers trudged their way into the office, each one wetter than the last. It seemed like the rain you had battled against was just the start of whatever bizarrely named storm had landed atop your city that day. With Pam’s appearance, the poor thing shaking from the cold, you disappeared into the kitchen to pour her a warm cup of coffee, sorting one for Jim as well.

“You, Y/N, are the angel I’ve always needed.” Pam smiled through chattering teeth as you handed over her favourite mug, walking back to set down Jim’s coffee without a second glance.

“It’s mutual, Pam. What happened? You look like you’ve been plucked out the Atlantic.” You asked, walking round her desk to help her take off her jacket and cardigan, both items soaked so thoroughly you were sure you could fill a bath with the water retained in the items.

“My car wouldn’t start, so I had to get the bus… The thing stopped two blocks away, this is the result of sprinting through the rain.” Pam pouted as she spoke, and you smiled sadly at her. She took another sip of her coffee, plopping onto her chair, seeming to be contemplating something over the beverage. “Does Kelly still keep a hairdryer here?” She asked.

“You know, I was about to suggest the exact same thing. I have the morning basically free until my meeting at 11.45. Why don’t I fetch the space heater to keep you warm, and we can dry off your clothes in the bathroom?” You offered, throwing her wet cardigan over your arm, and leaning down to press a kiss to your friend’s cheek.

“God, Pam you look awful.” A voice interrupted your kind gesture, Michael stood by the coat rack, taking off a jacket that looked like it belonged in the artic tundra. “Wet to the core- oh! That’s what she said!” He called out in excitement, laughing at his own innuendo.

“Michael, there’s a call waiting on line two.” You lied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“But-”

“Go be busy and leave Pam be.” You ordered, and Michael nodded, moping as he headed into his office. While you were a nice enough person, you kept up a rather stern persona in the office, and Michael perhaps was or was not a little scared of you. You departed from Pam’s desk, walking to your own and calling Michael’s phone from your own.

“Hello?” Michael answered, and you smiled at him through the window.

“Morning Michael. Have you got the 11.45 scheduled in?” You reminded with a sweet voice, watching Michael frantically look for his calendar.

“Uh… Uh, yeah! I do! Wait a minute, I didn’t schedule this in…” He muttered, dropping the phone and walking to the door of his office. “Thanks Pam.” He called, startling the young woman, but leaving a smile on her face, nonetheless. You put down the phone, quickly checking your emails and making sure you were set for later that morning.

“Jim, you alright to take care of the rest of the printing?” You asked, glancing over and trying your best to keep your heart from melting. Jim was sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he proof-read something on his screen, sipping his coffee rather absentmindedly. “Jim.” You repeated, and his head shot up, the crease disappearing as a smile formed.

“On it.” He responded, giving you leave to find Kelly’s hairdryer and ring out Pam’s cardigan.

“Why does Y/N get to slack off?” Dwight muttered once you had disappeared through the kitchen door. Jim watched you leave for a moment before coming back to, looking over at an unhappy Dwight.

“She’s not slacking off, Dwight, she’s doing a co-worker a favour. You should try it once and a while.” Jim countered, putting Dwight on the defensive.

“I’ll have you know that if it weren’t for me, none of you in this office would be safe.” He was sure in his words, but a phone call came through before Jim could question what his colleague could possibly mean.

11 am rolled around fast, and with Pam’s cardigan ringed out and blow-dried, along with a few other team members’ outer wears (Jim’s tie included), you were finally starting to feel nervous. As much as you enjoyed helping your colleagues out, having even taken off your shoes to get around the office quicker, you realised as you distributed the dry clothes to individuals that you were just trying to preoccupy yourself. This meeting was important, and while you had no doubts in Jim or yourself, you had a feeling you were missing something.

“Water!” You squeaked as you handed over a scarf to Oscar, who raised an amused eyebrow at you.

“Don’t you think we’ve got enough outside?” He asked, and you laughed a little.

“Sorry, for the meeting today. I should clean up some matching water glasses for the clients.” You explained, lifting a sweater from your arm and passing it to Angela. She seemed in a good mood today, perhaps because in between your drying of clothes you had offered her a cat shaped cookie to go with her coffee. Andy had probably brought them in to amuse her.

“That’s a very clever idea, Y/N. We won’t keep you from getting started on that.” She said, and you nodded, knowing that Angela had politely dismissed you to focus on her work. You marched through to the kitchen, lifting the nicest glass tumblers you could find and beginning to wash a set of six, humming as you did.

“I know what you’re doing.” A familiar voice came from behind you, Jim placing a hand on the small of your back for a second to reach around you. “Why are you so nervous? We’re the dream team, cutie. The clients will love us.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed, lifting two of the glasses from the suds and placing them on the drying rack. “I’m just… It’s a big deal, I feel like if one thing goes wrong…” Jim cut you off with a shake of the head, picking up a tea towel to dry off the cups.

“Y/N, you wrote and printed six-chapter binder about the entire order. From processing to delivery, with notes on every possible question they could ask. You then made Dwight and I memorise the binder, like we don’t have other clients.” Jim teased you, placing the dried glasses onto a serving platter. You glanced at the clock, 11.20 am. 25 minutes to go.

“You’re right… Like always.” You gave in, happily defeated, and set down the final tumblers and the water jug on the drying rack, Jim swift on his self-assigned role in your cleaning chain.

“Here, I have an idea.” He began, filling up the jug with cold water. “Why don’t you head to the break room, get yourself something as sweet as you, make sure you don’t go into the meeting low on sugar.” Jim suggested, pulling a slightly damp $5 bill from his pocket. You reached to grab it, Jim then deciding to be an ass and lift it higher than you could reach.

“You keep this up the whole office will know we screw, Halpert.” You warned, batting your eyes as a pretty please. Jim just laughed lightly, handing the money over and grinning from ear to ear. You smirked back. “I love you, you know.” You said quickly, walking from the kitchen to the annexe, waving a quick hello to Kelly, who was enjoying her warm and dry faux fur wrap, while Jim just smiled to himself and went about carrying the water jug and galsses through to the conference room.

You slipped into the empty break room and took a deep breath. Jim was right, there was nothing to fear about this meeting: the clients were great people, understanding, and the shipment was all ready to go in the warehouse. You rolled the cricks out of your neck, stretching your arms up to the fluorescent lights to relieve whatever tension remained. You headed for the vending machine, skirting round a pulled-out chair and stopping to face the machine stocked full of goodies. By the looks of it, the machine must have been refilled in the last few days, and your fingers hovered over the array of treats, stopping on your favourite, one that you hadn’t seen in the vendor in months.

Slotting in the bill, you typed in your choice, and when the change came through, you picked out Jim’s favourite candy too, a little thank you for his calming techniques. You scooped the snacks out the bottom, swivelling around a little to quick and bumping into the chair you had been so careful to avoid coming over.

With the bump, you knocked into one of the tables and ended up stumbling. Your auxiliary foot did it’s best to steady you, but you were falling over. So, you placed down your dominant foot despite the odd angle with as much force as you could, frightened to hit the ground and possibly rip your tight right before a big meeting.

There’s a moment when one realises a mistake before it occurs, but cannot change it. It happened as your strong foot was about a cm from the ground, a pinch. Your mind immediately registered that you were probably stepping onto a tac or upturned loose staple, and you were ready to mumble curses under your breathe and feel a quick nip.

What came instead was blinding pain that forced you to the floor, banging your head on the damned chair that caused all this on the way down. The snacks you have so carefully thought out flew across the room, and you instinctively reached for your foot, only to pull your hand back when you cut yourself. The amount of blood covering your hand was dizzying, and as you finally felt the pain take full control of your head, you did the only thing you could think of.

You screamed.

No-one in the office was expecting to hear a scream at 11.30 in the office, especially not one so haunting. For a second, everyone was still, Michael silencing his rant about Staples, hands across the room moving from keyboards in a moment of terror.

And then the second scream came, and Jim flew into action.

He had been at his desk, making sure he had printed off everything the pair of you needed, and trying to block out Michael’s nonstop talk when he heard it. And, to be fair, he never had heard you scream in terror before, it took him a second to register the sound. And it froze him too, this haunting call, it froze the office. But when the second one rang out, he was certain it was you, and propelled himself towards the breakroom, where Kelly now stood, Pam and the rest o the team hot on your tail.

Jim had never seen so much blood, You were barely awake on the floor, the carpet below you now a crimson colour, one of your hands clutched to your chest. All Jim could see for a moment was the red, but he knocked it quickly from his mind. You were hurting, he needed to get you help.

“Y/N, it’s alright, I’ve got you… Come on Y/L/N, look at me…” He begged, dress pants now stained with blood as he knelt down and lifted you from the ground. A few team members had to step away from the sight, Michael included, leaving Jim with a very select team.

“Stanley I need you opening doors. Meredith, can you find any sort of towels, we need to stop the bleeding… Jesus Christ what is in you foot Y/L/N?” The question was more to himself than to the team, who watched in curiosity at how Jim interacted with you: he cradled you close, he barked orders, the worry on his face was clear.

He was scared for your wellbeing.

“You know, if she hadn’t been slacking off none of this would have happened.” Dwight piped up out of the blue, causing heads to turn as Meredith passed towels to Pam, who carefully began wrapping Y/N’s foot to stop the bleeding, Meredith then moving to wrap Y/N’s hand.

“Dwight, what did you do?” Jim asked, pausing for a moment to look at his desk mate. When he received no response, Jim lost it. “WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO DWIGHT?!” He shouted, all eyes on the pair. Dwight tried to look strong, righteous, but the façade was quickly faltering.

“I-I keep weapons in the office… For protection.”

“Protection?!” Pam snapped. “There’s a throwing star in Y/L/N’s foot, Dwight!”

“I’m good with small, long distance objects.” Dwight shrugged, and Jim looked like he would murder Dwight on the spot if it weren’t for you in his arms. His Y/N.

“Let’s get her to the hospital before she loses any more blood. Pam, you’re driving. Andy, Dwight, take over the pitch meeting. Fuck it up and there’s hell to pay. And Dwight?” Jim called back as he, Stanley and Pam made there way towards the exit. “If anything, and I mean anything, happens to Y/N because of your goddamn bullshit, you will not live to see tomorrow.” Jim warned, and Dwight visibly gulped, watching the quartet left with a lump in his throat.

When you woke up, you were scared. You felt weak, your whole body ached, and your head pounded like no-one’s business. There was also a lot of pressure around your hand and foot, the material you wore felt funny, and you were in a bed that was most certainly not your own.

And then it came back. The pain, the blacking out. You were in a hospital.

You tried to sit up straight, your heart monitor to your right beginning to beep faster and faster, you frantic in your search for any sort of explanation.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright baby, it’s all good.” A voice came from your left, a blurry figure you quickly recognised as Jim running to your side from the corner of the room. You blinked away the tears to see clearly, and he smiled, instantly calming you. “You’ve been through quite a bit Y/L/N, you need to stay comfy in bed.” He instructed, taking a second to disappear before pulling over a chair to sit by your side.

“What-what time is it?” You asked, lifting a hand to hold Jim’s. Your eyes widened. “The client deal-”

“Andy and Michael have sorted it all out. That binder you made really saved their asses.” Jim assured before glancing at the wall clock. “Almost 7… You were out for a while, they had to put you under anaesthesia and everything.” Jim explained, and you took in his appearance completely. He was out of his work clothes, changed into a t-shirt and jeans no doubt brought in by Pam, and despite his dishevelled hair and brow creased from worry, he look his usually self. Except for the bandage around his arm.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching over to touch it.

“You lost a far bit of blood, and even though I should really know it I had no clue what blood type you were. But I’m O Negative, and the hospital needed an emergency transfusion…” Jim shrugged like it was nothing, but you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I can’t believe how clumsy I was.” You whispered, shaking your head in shame. You had stepped on something and fallen down, and Jim had to donate blood to you? He was quick to shush you though, leaning over and placing kisses on your forehead.

“Baby, this wasn’t your fault… It was Dwight’s actually.” Jim paused to steady his breathing. “The asshat hid weapons around the office, one of them being the ninja star that got lodged in your foot and required surgery to remove.” You blinked a few times, trying to process the words, make sense of what you had just been told. Dwight… Weapons… Ninja Stars…

When Jim saw the smile on your face, he was caught off guard, but as you started to giggle he soon clicked and joined in the laughter. It was ridiculous, such a bizarre idea that it would only happen at your office building with Dwight.

After a few moments of shared laughter, the tension in the room eased, a knock sounded on the door, a doctor entering the room with a smile.

“Miss Y/L/N, glad to see you up and smiling. I was hoping we could run over your next few weeks, the precautions you’ll have to take until you hand and foot heal.” They asked, and you nodded, Jim pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding your good hand between his, his thumbing stroking your knuckles and the rain continued to storm outside.

The rest period wasn’t long, and after two weeks your hand had healed to a sufficient degree that you could use crutches and get back to work. You first day back on the job compromised of a surprise party, cake, Dwight apologising multiple times and very little work.

What was best about it all though? Jim, right by your side, the whole office now quite aware of where you stood with each other: which was, no matter what, side by side.

Bonus, you got to keep the throwing star, and it has since been framed in the office, rightly labelled as ‘How the office found out Jim and Y/N were dating’.

#jim halpert x reader #fluff #jim halpert #the office #fanfiction #john krasinski

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love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Jackalope Fae

GN human reader X M Fae, 8,340 words

This one's a bit all over the place, I'll admit. You rescue a Fae from the battlefield after a fight. He'd injured, but determined to return to his king's side. Unwilling to leave him on his own, you accompany him on his journey.

Content warning for descriptions of battlefields, wars, and injuries

You picked your way across the battlefield, scarf tied around your mouth and nose. No matter how tightly you cinched it, the smell of blood and viscera still made you gag. It was thick in the air, hanging in nearly-visible clouds around you.

There were bodies everywhere. Humans and Fae littered the ground. Your shoes sank into the ground slightly. Red stains covered their sides, soaking into the fabric. You tried very hard not to think about it.

There was no feeling in the world more helpless than the one of standing on a battlefield after the battle. All these people… all these corpses. Husbands and fathers, wives and mothers, children and lovers. All of them were dead and gone and there was nothing you could do to save them.

Something near your foot twitched.

For a moment, you thought it was just a trick of the tears blurring your vision. You went still, staring. The body nearest to you was some sort of Fae. His clothes were too bloody to make out any sort of army affiliation. A set of antlers sprouted from his head and his ears were elongated and floppy, drooping like rabbit ears. The rabbit idea continued down on his legs, which were elongated, fuzzy, and built powerfully.

As if sensing your gaze on him, he gave a little gasp and sucked in a choked breath. A fresh wave of red soaked through his jacket, mingling with the dried blood that was already there.

Alive. This one was alive!

You knelt next to him. “Don’t move.” His eyes opened. They were hazy with pain and blood loss, and a piercing, crystalline blue. One of his hands fumbled for the sword at his waist. You froze, but he was too weak to even draw it. His eyes fluttered shut again.

“Stay still,” you told him, though you weren’t sure he could even hear you. Hurriedly, you slipped your bag from your back and tugged it open. The strips of cloth inside seemed pathetic in comparison to that much blood, but they were all you had. Ignoring the dried blood flaking off under your fingernails, you pulled open the front of his jacket.

Under the coat, his skin was covered in a fine, velvety-soft layer of fur. At least, it would have been velvety soft if it hadn’t been matted with blood. The long cut across his chest still wept blood from a few open areas. You pressed down as many bandages as you could, tying them into place.

The Fae groaned and opened his eyes again. He twisted to look at you, gaze still unfocused. His long, black hair was matted to his face, marring some of his fine features. Despite his circumstances, his face still made your stomach do a little leap. Why were all Fae so damnably attractive?

“I’m going to try to move you,” you told him. He didn’t seem to be registering your words. “It’ll probably hurt, but I need to get you out of here.” Battlefields were breeding grounds for infections. Even the resilient Fae had succumbed to battle-rot and other diseases.

You crouched down, your knees protesting the position. Gritting your teeth, you hooked your arms under his armpits and started to haul.

The Fae made a high, keening noise, so startling that you dropped him. He made a choked noise as he hit the ground, and didn’t move again. For a moment, you were terrified you had killed him, but no, his sides were still moving with his steady breathing.

After a moment, when he did not move again, you bent back down and went back to pulling him. This time, he made no sound. He was as limp as a ragdoll as you hauled him across the battlefield and to your tent.

You could drag him, but there was no way you were lifting his long, lanky form up into a cot. He looked slender, but he must have been pure, corded muscle, because he was heavy as anything. Instead, you spread out a blanket on the floor and tugged him onto it. Moving him had reopened some of his wounds. You could see the fresh blood soaking into his shirt. Hurriedly, you stripped him of his clothes and started padding his wounds with bandages.

He was more injured than you’d thought. There was a massive cut across his chest and more nicks and gashes all over his arms and legs. He was out of it, but his sleep was fitful. Every time you tried to clean off one of his cuts, he would twitch and growl. His eyes even opened once or twice, but they were clouded with pain and unfocused.

Once you were sure that he was in a stable condition, you took his clothes outside and dunked them into the washbasin. You’d left him with a blanket tied around his waist, to preserve his modesty, but you’d needed to completely remove his clothes. Some items had been completely destroyed- they were so caked to his wounds with blood that you had needed to cut them apart to pull them away.

The water in the washbasin slowly grew redder and redder as you washed off the shirt. It had been so thoroughly covered in blood, likely his own and other people’s, that you couldn’t see the color of it anymore. And as the blood washed away, your stomach started to sink.

The shirt wasn’t the deep, midnight-blue of the Sansivore army. It was the bright, emerald-green of the Aerethes.

You took a deep breath and kept scrubbing. He was a member of the Aerethes army. Well, fine. It didn’t matter. You would save his life. Just like all the others.

Once the clothes had been made as clean as you could get them and had been hung up to dry, you returned to your tent. The Fae was still lying there, breathing slowly and evenly. His sleep had gone from something fitful into something deeper, more even. You let out a slow breath. That was a good sign.

You ate dinner and then tipped a little bit of broth in his mouth, carefully encouraging him to swallow. He coughed, sputtering a little, and you lowered the cup. He’d probably gotten enough. He just needed a little, to keep his strength up.

After you finished feeding him, you wrapped him in a blanket, ensured that he was still in stable condition, then went to bed yourself. Despite the aching in your muscles, you were tired enough to fall asleep almost as soon as your head hit your pillow.

You woke to a prickling feeling on the back of your neck, all your senses alert. Something was wrong.

One of your hands stole under your pillow for your knife. It was a small thing, barely more than a scalpel, but that didn’t matter. Precision was more important than size, and you knew exactly where to drive the knife to kill someone in seconds.

Three… two… one! You rolled over, ready for a fight, then froze.

The Fae stood over you. He was enormously tall, balancing on digitigrade feet. You had to crane your neck back to look up into his face. His bright, blue eyes glittered like cold diamonds. His entire body was made up of rippling muscles. He looked like he could tear you limb from limb with little effort. His antlers only served to make him more impressive, like an oversized crown. The effect was a little ruined by the cute, fluffy bunny tail that sprouted from just above his butt.

It was as you looked down at his butt that you realized he was completely naked. The towel was lying behind him, discarded on the floor. Fortunately, his bandages were still attached, and his wounds hadn’t opened up during the night.

“Where am I?” His voice was dry and scratchy from disuse, but hearing him speak at all nearly sent you out of your skin. For some reason, you hadn’t really expected him to speak, much less in perfect English.

“You’re in my tent,” you said, once the burst of shock had worn off. “You should probably sit down. You’re still injured.”

His lips curled and his long, floppy ears twitched. “You are not a healer of the Aerethes army,” he said.

“No, I’m not. But I am a healer, and I need you to sit back down.” There was an unsettling trembling in his legs now, and it was starting to progress upward.

“I need to return. My army needs me. My king. I-” The trembling hit his knees and he wobbled. You darted forward, barely managing to brace yourself against his weight. Heavens above, but he was heavy. He snarled as his wounds were strained.

“Stop struggling!” You lowered him to the ground as gently as you could. He groaned, gritting his teeth. He had little fangs, you noticed. “Lie still. You’ve been injured, and I need to check your wounds for battle rot.”

He stared at you, then, apparently deciding there was nothing else he could do, submitted to your ministrations. You untied the bandages, dribbled cleaning solution into the wounds. He snarled, body flexing. “I know it hurts, I know,” you said, your voice automatically dropping into its most soothing register. “It’ll be all right.”

He snarled again. Even in his prone, injured position, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You. Tell me. What. Happened,” he said between flinches of pain.

“I don’t know exactly what happened. There was a battle. You were injured. I rescued you.” He twisted his head toward you, nose twitching.

“You are not a healer for the Aerethes army,” he said after a moment.

“No. I’m…” You paused. There was no official term for what you did, and you weren’t sure which unofficial term he’d know. Not to mention that most of them were unflattering. “I’m here to help.”

He stared at you, gaze growing more suspicious. “I cannot stay here. My people-”

“You are not going anywhere. You can try to leave if you want, but if you make it further than the tent’s entrance, I’ll be stunned. There’s about three severe- hey!”

The Fae rolled over and heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before managing to catch himself. He was still naked, you noted, though he didn’t seem to care. Instead he made for the tent entrance.

He made it a grand total of four steps. Which was one more than you’d been betting on, so good for him.

“Are you all right?” you asked. He made an effort to get back up and collapsed again. “Okay. Come on back here.” You took a moment to haul him back onto the blankets. His eyes cracked open and he glared at you. “I did warn you. You’re exhausted. You probably got hit with iron. It’ll take a few days to clear your system.”

The Fae closed his eyes and sighed. “I was hit with iron.” His eyes opened again, this time with clear effort. “I need to… My king…” His eyes closed. “My…”

You waited for a moment, but he didn’t reopen his eyes. His chest rose and fell with stuttering breaths. He looked uncomfortable, but at least he was resting.

Confident that he wasn’t going to get up again, you stepped out of your tent. You cooked yourself breakfast, making a small, extra portion in case he woke up and needed food again. You also boiled off your water and strained it, and spent a few moments checking your medicine stores. You were starting to run low on river root. The army hadn’t traveled by a source of running water any time soon, which was really starting to become a problem. You might have to peel off for a while to replenish everything.

When you walked back into the tent, the Fae was awake again. His bright blue eyes followed you as you put down your supplies.

“How are you feeling?” you asked. It was often hard to tell how sick Fae were at a glance. Pale and gaunt seemed to be their natural state.

He stared.

“Good? Bad?” You crouched in front of him. He stared at you some more, teeth gritted. “I’m trying to help.”

“I do not need your help,” he growled. “I need to return to my king.”

“I’m going to help you do that. But you need to heal first. What good are you to your king if you’re half dead from your wounds?” The Fae’s long ears twitched. He lowered his gaze to the ground. “How are you feeling?”

He took in a deep breath. “I am feeling… tired. Sore. I was struck with iron- it burns in my veins.”

“I don’t know how to treat iron poisoning,” you said. The Fae shrugged.

“It cannot be treated. It must be endured.” He sagged to the ground. “Why are you helping me?”

The question came right out of left field. You rocked back onto your rear. “You needed help.”

The Fae sighed, as if he were talking to someone exceedingly slow. “Yes. But there were many people who needed help. I was not even a member of your army- you are not on the side of the Aerethes, are you?” You shook your head. “I thought not. Your tent is constructed in a different style. And yet, you rescued me. You appear to be trying to save my life. I had considered that you were attempting some method of interrogation, but I fail to see why you would avoid using iron tools or allow me to overcome my own iron poisoning.” He paused for a moment, panting heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly with obvious exertion.

“I’m not trying to interrogate you,” you said, keeping your voice gentle. “I really did pull you off the battlefield because I wanted to save your life.”

He rolled his gaze back over to you. “Yes, I had surmised as much. So, I ask again: Why?”

You sighed, crossing your legs underneath you. “Do you know what Hippotherinism is?” He gave you a head shake. “It’s… well, a lot of people call it a religion, but I think that’s stretching the truth a little bit. It’s more of a philosophical movement. It comes from the idea that all people should seek to do as little harm as possible and seek to help as many as they can. I’ve been following those principles for years now.”

The Fae stared at you. His gaze was interested, if slightly confused. “What does that have to do with saving me?”

“War is against Hippotherinistic principles. We don’t participate as soldiers and we are forbidden from advocating for it. But when there is a war, we are also compelled to save lives. We aren’t allowed to pick and choose. If there is someone who needs our help, human or Fae or any species, we are compelled to help them. You were the first person I came across in savable condition, so I saved you.”

The Fae stared at you for a long moment, thinking hard. Then he slumped back onto the ground. “You are strange.”

“It’s strange to me that you all spend your time fighting,” you said. The Fae’s eyes opened again.

“I don’t spend my time fighting. I am an advisor to the king,” he said.

You paused, uncertain how to continue without offending him. “But you were fighting. Why else would you be on the battlefield?”

“My king was there. His advisors are also his guards, his allies in battle. If the soldiers fight, the king must fight, and if he fights, we go with him.”

“Well, at least your king fights with you,” you said. “Better than can be said for the Sansivore army.”

He seemed mollified by your compliment. “Yes. If your leader will not fight with you, then they are not fit to lead.” He prodded absently at his wounds, testing them. “To be absent from my king’s side… it is a disgrace. It shows that I am weak. I am sworn to follow the king until my final breath. As I am still breathing, I should be at my king’s side.” He closed his eyes. “But I am not.”

“When you’re healed, you can go back,” you said.

He sighed. “You misunderstand. I have abandoned my position. I am in disgrace.”

You parsed that. Their dignity and position were everything to a Fae. To lose their place in society meant a loss of their identity. “You didn’t abandon it,” you pointed out as gently as you could. “You tried to stay. You were injured in battle.”

“As long as I breathe, I should be at my king’s side. If I was left on the battlefield, I should have died there. I am disgraced, dishonored.”

You sat back on your heels. You had never heard anyone so unhappy at having their life saved. He seemed despondent.

“Can you return?” you asked.

“I must,” he said. “I must, and I will throw myself on the mercy of my king. If he elects to reinstate me, I will spend the rest of my life in gratitude for his kindness. If he does not, the court may kill me.”

You blanched. “The court will what?”

“If the king accepts that I am disgraced, that I have abandoned my position, and with it, my honor, I will have all my rights and positions in the land revoked. I will become one of the nameless, stripped of all that I am. The court will tear me apart and those that kill me will earn fragments of my power or land.”

You stared at him, a hand clamped over your mouth. “That’s terrible.”

“It is a mercy. If I were to become nameless, my life would be nothing. No power, no identity, no position. The king holds my name. Should my failure be so great that he decides to destroy it, I would be dead in all but body. To complete that is merely putting things right.” He gave a few raking coughs, then settled back onto his blanket.

You twisted and untwisted a piece of fabric in your hands. “You said the king has your name?”

“He holds the names of all his advisors.”

You closed your eyes, kneading at one of your temples. Names were important to Fae, both in a cultural and metaphysical sense. If he had willingly given it over to the king, that was a bond beyond anything you could think of. He would never voluntarily give up on going to the king, even if he knew that it meant certain death.

“Okay,” you said, the word coming out in a sigh. “Okay. Fine. I’ll help you.”

The Fae stared at you, ears twitching. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ll help you. Get back to the king, I mean. You’re not in a condition to be traveling on your own, not for a little while longer, at least. But if this is really important to you, then I’ll help you.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips curled up, showing off his short but sharp fangs. “What do you want in return?”

“I don’t want anything. That’s not why I’m doing this. I saved your life, so now I have a responsibility to make sure you’re going to be okay.” He looked at you a little blankly, but didn’t seem keen on protesting.

“You agree that for your service, I will not be indebted to you? Forced into repayment at a later date?” he clarified.

“There’s no terms or conditions,” you said. “I don’t want anything in return for it. If it works, we’ll probably never see each other again. And that’s all right. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

There was a long silence. He stared at you. There was something odd shifting in those crystal-blue eyes of his, but you couldn’t read it. Maybe it was some Fae emotion only they could comprehend. Finally, he shook his head. “Humans are fools. But if you offer this to me, then I will take it.”

“Okay. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. First things first. Let me take another look at those cuts. I want to set them up so you’re not going to make them worse by moving around. And maybe put some more antiseptic and painkillers on it.”

The Fae lay back and allowed you to poke and prod at his cuts. He twitched as you probed his stomach and chest. Some of the noises were definitely pained ones, but there were a few sighs he made as you moved your hand along his toned stomach that wounded suspiciously like pleasure. You tactfully ignored him. There was no point in embarrassing him.

After you’d finished your examination, you gave him some clothes, which he put on without complaint, despite them being slightly too big for him. He curled up on the ground, back toward you. Despite yourself, your eyes lingered on him, admiring the shape of his body. No. Bad. Bad doctor. You don’t look at your patients like that.

You went to bed and tried very hard not to dream about anything inappropriate. You didn’t quite succeed.

The Fae seemed more alert and active in the morning, but you still refused to allow him to help you take down the tent. “I’ve done it many times before,” you said. Everything you owned could be folded into a bag that was a little more than half your size. You needed to be able to carry all your stuff from spot to spot. It wasn’t easy, but you had developed pretty good muscles from hauling it all around.

“Do you know what direction the army would have headed in?” you asked as you finished lashing the bag to your back.

The Fae fidgeted. “I have a general idea, yes.”

You waved a hand ahead of you. “Then by all means, lead the way.”

The Fae started out ahead of you. He moved with surprisingly fluid strides, despite his injuries, though there was a stutter in his step. You stayed close to him, even if that meant jogging a little. His legs were really long and he had a habit of hopping slightly, like a rabbit.

The pair of you headed northeast. Every now and then, the Fae would pause to sniff at the air or examine some flowers. The markers didn’t mean anything to you, but they seemed to reassure him that you were going in the right direction.

There was something comfortable about traveling with him. He was quiet, but the quiet wasn’t tense. It seemed more like he was appreciating the little sounds of the forest.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, you noticed him slowing down. He kept putting a hand to his side, fussing with his bandages. “Hey. Sit down a minute.”

He glanced back at you. “I am fine.”

“Uh huh. Then just do it to humor me. I want to take a look. And I want to put more medicine on it so it doesn’t start rotting.”

He bared his fangs, but slumped down against a tree. You crouched next to him, swinging off your bag and rooting through it.

“It will likely take days for us to catch up to them,” he said as you unwrapped the bandages. “They are no longer moving, most likely, but we are much slower than they would have been.”

“Will they stay put for the time it’ll take for us to catch up to them?” you asked. The deepest cut had stopped bleeding and showed no signs of infection. That was good.

“Likely. They usually enchant the location to hide it and settle in.” He gritted his teeth as you dripped medicine into the wound. “Ahh.”

“Sorry. I know it hurts.” He snorted and turned his head away. “You don’t need to act so tough. It’s all right if it hurts. The pain tells you something is wrong and where to fix it.” You patted his shoulder.

The Fae blinked at you. In the sunlight, his blue eyes looked even brighter than before. A strange feeling moved along your spine and gathered in your stomach. You were blushing, you were sure of it. “Everything looks pretty good. I’m glad you’re healing well.”

The Fae pulled himself back to his feet, almost before you had finished securing the bandages again. “We need to keep moving,” he mumbled brusquely, then started padding through the woods again. You slung your bag up onto your shoulders and kept after him.

It was a long day of trekking through the thick undergrowth. The Fae kept ahead of you, but didn’t deliberately leave you behind. Every few moments, he checked behind himself, ensuring you were still there.

By the end of the day, you felt like your lungs were on fire. The Fae seemed perfectly fine, not even bothered. When you settled in a semi-cleared area to start setting up your tent, he glared impatiently. “We should continue.”

“You said they’re not going anywhere,” you said, slumping back against a tree. “We can afford to take a break. And I need some sleep. Humans aren’t as hardy as Fae.”

He hesitated, looking like he was considering continuing without you, then he turned and padded back into the camp.

It took a moment or two to gather the energy to stand back up. Perhaps walking all day had been a bad idea. You weren’t used to trying to keep up with a Fae on foot, and usually you took a more leisurely pace when you were following the army. All of your limbs felt like lead. It was hard to put up a tent with arms that you could barely lift over your head.

The Fae watched as you pulled the tent into place. His gaze was just as inscrutable as ever. It made an odd fluttery feeling start up in your middle again.

By the time you had the fire going, you were almost too tired to move. Thankfully, you had some dried rations. You shoved them toward the Fae. “Here. Eat.”

He opened the bag and started to munch on dried fruit and meat. Judging by his expression, it wasn’t the sort of fare he was used to in the king’s entourage. You slumped on the ground, trying to get up the energy and motivation to actually walk into the tent. Maybe even change your clothes before you fell into bed.

“You are not eating,” the Fae said. You blinked your eyes open. Had you actually fallen asleep for a moment? The Fae was a lot closer to you, practically on top of you.

“No,” you said. “I’m too tired to cook.” A massive yawn punctuated the sentence and proved your words.

The Fae frowned, then held out the bag of rations to you. You pushed them back toward him. “I need to stock up on those, and you need them more than I do.”

He frowned at you. “Humans need to eat.”

“Trust me. I’ve gone longer without food.” You yawned again, stretching your arms over your head. “I’m gonna- hey!”

The Fae dropped the rations on your chest. “Eat.”

“I’ll eat in the morning,” you said. “I just want to sl-hey!”

The Fae shoved you. “Eat.”

You groaned, pushing yourself upright. “I thought I said you should finish it.”

“Humans need food. Fae need less.”

“You’re injured.”

“You are exhausted.” The Fae narrowed his eyes. “Eat!”

He didn’t seem keen on giving up, and it would be faster to just agree with him than to fight until one of you passed out. You munched on the dried fruit and meat for a few minutes. The Fae watched you, ears and tail twitching occasionally.

He didn’t stop watching until you’d finished eating. Once you were done, he lay down, legs curled close to his body. You watched him for a moment longer. He was probably just concerned that you were going to pass out from hunger and possibly delay him. But there had been something in his eyes when he had looked at you. Something close to genuine worry.

That idea made something flutter convulsively in your chest. You swallowed, trying to dampen the feeling. Fuck. Don’t think about your patients like that. With one glance back at the Fae, you crawled into your tent and fell asleep.

You and the Fae set off again early in the morning, soon after the sun had risen. The Fae hung out close to your side. He seemed to be making an effort to stay close to you this time. You couldn’t say you were disappointed by it.

“How long have you been following the army?” the Fae asked. His question was startling. He hadn’t asked you anything out of curiosity, which you had been fine with. Fae weren’t known for appreciating small talk.

“It’s been a couple of years. Before the army, I studied medicine at a hospital. I considered being a medic with the army, but…” You trailed off, shifting your bag on your back. The Fae’s ears pricked slightly.

“But?” he nudged.

“I joined. But they don’t let you help the enemy soldiers. Even the ones that weren’t badly injured. I mean, I get it. They’re the enemy and you don’t want to give them supplies that could be used to heal your own people. But… There was this young man. He was a Fae, I think, but he was young. He looked like a child and he was scared. I had to leave him on the battlefield. I could have saved him. The wound was deep, but survivable. But they told me not to save him. I took another man back, a man with far worse wounds. He died three hours later. And when I went back the next day- the Fae was gone. Battle rot set in. If we had tried, we could have saved him. But we ignored him and he died. And when I looked at his body, something in me broke. I couldn’t be a part of it anymore. So, I left. I can’t save everyone this way. I still have to leave people behind. But at least now I don’t have to just look at people I know I could save and ignore them anyway.”

The Fae stared at you for a long moment. One of his ears ticked. Silence stretched out between you. You could almost hear him grasping for something to say and coming up empty. “Thank you,” he finally said.

You stared at him. “Thank you for what?”

“For bothering to save me,” he said. “There are many humans who would have been consent to save their own army. Many Fae who would do similarly. Yet you took a more difficult path. And because of that, I now live.”

You smiled. “Thought you wanted to die nobly on the battlefield?”

“If I can live and continue to be of service to my king, then I wish to live.” He hesitated for a moment longer. “And your decision to save me was noble. I can’t fault that. You were acting with good intentions and with no regard for yourself. It is something I rarely see. It is… refreshing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said. The Fae nodded in your direction. His eyes roved over your body for a moment before flicking away, back to surveying the forest.

“It was intended as such.” The walk lapsed back into silence, the only noises being the soft sounds of the forest.

You were distracted a bit by the compliment. You kept replaying it over and over in your mind, rolling the softness of his voice and eyes around in your head.

It was so distracting, as a matter of fact, that, in crossing one of the rivers that flowed throughout the forest, your foot slipped.

If you had been paying attention, you would have tested the rock before you put your whole weight on it. But you weren’t paying attention, you stepped casually onto the rock, and it wobbled under your feet. You heard the Fae shout something as you stumbled and fell into the river.

The water wasn’t deep, but it was shock-cold. Your muscles locked as soon as you were submerged. Your mouth opened to scream and a filthy wave of river water flowed into your mouth.

A hand grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and hauled you back up. The Fae was clinging to you, speaking in a rough voice. He held your soaked body against his chest as you shivered.

The Fae dumped you on the shore and yanked your bag off your back. It was wet, but you hadn’t been in the water long enough for everything to get soaked. The Fae pulled a blanket around you, scrubbing furiously.

You automatically slapped at his hands when he started trying to undress you. He completely ignored you. You were too shocked and cold to fight him off properly, so in minutes, you were stripped down to your underwear. Fortunately, he stopped there.

Shivers rolled through your body. The Fae tugged the blanket more securely around you, trying to dry you off. “Humans are so terribly clumsy,” he complained. “And you are already freezing to the touch.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled through chattering teeth.

“I am not looking for an apology! Take better care of yourself.” The Fae sat back on his heels and gritted his teeth. His sharp little fangs clicked against each other.

“We can keep moving,” you said. “J-just get me new clothes.” You fumbled for your bag and pulled out your other outfit. Unfortunately, the clothes that had gotten soaked were your heavier outfit. Even with the fresh clothes on, you were still shivering.

The Fae tilted his head to one side. His crystalline eyes glittered with thoughtfulness. He picked the blanket up off the ground and started wrapping it around his shoulders, tying some of the corners together.

As soon as it was secure around him, he scooped your bag up and slipped it onto his back. “I can carry my own stu-” The Fae ignored you, bent down, and picked you up.

You froze. The Fae completely ignored your reaction. He instead tucked you into the blanket around his chest like a sling.

“What are you doing?” you asked. The Fae made a ‘tch’ noise.

“It will be slower if we wait for your to warm up. This will help,” he said. There was something oddly tight in his voice. It was hard to tell through his fur, but you thought you could see him flushing pink. Not that you could blame him. you were pretty sure your own face was on fire.

The Fae took off through the woods. Clearly, he had been slowing down for your benefit before. Each stride seemed to eat up several feet of ground. Your head bobbed against his chest. Even with his speed, you could hear his heartbeat pounding as calm and steady as ever.

Being carried against his chest warmed you up considerably. It reminded you of how long it had been since you had been held by someone. Your chest fluttered. Stop it, stop it, he’s just doing this to be practical. Don’t get all flustered because of it.

The Fae kept running as the sun sank lower in the sky. You nodded off at one point and woke bleary and confused at the tail end of sunset. The Fae had slowed down, moving more delicately through the undergrowth. The foliage was unusually thick and green, and you could see little glowing motes dancing between leaves and branches.

“You were correct,” the Fae said. One of his hands was cradling you, resting right between your shoulder blades. You were distractingly aware of the point of contact. “The entourage did not go far after all.”

You could pick up some strain in his voice. He swayed as he came to a near stop, then leaned against a tree. His breathing was labored.

“Put me down,” you said urgently. The Fae all but dropped you onto the ground. You managed to land mostly upright and hastily got to your feet. “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” he panted. One of his hands moved to his side, where he had been wounded. There was red seeping through the bandages.

“Let me see,” you said. You moved toward him, but he shifted, trying to push you away.

“No. Leave.” The motion made him shudder with pain. You pushed toward him and touched his wound. He made a high, keening noise of pain.

“You opened up the wound again while running. I need to close it again.” You leaned close to his side, prodding at the wound. He groaned, but didn’t push you away again.

“You should go,” he said. “I… I must present myself to my king.”

“Let me clean the wound beforehand,” you said. The Fae swung your bag down from his shoulders and you pulled out a roll of bandages. He allowed you to prod and rebandage the wound. Under his fine fur, he looked terribly pale.

“It’s getting worse,” you said. “Whatever you did while running, you really ripped it back open. You’ll need to-”

The Fae went still under your hands. He took in a shuddering breath. You froze, eyes still fixed on his wound.

“You live.” The voice was harsh, roughly female, but with an edge to it like a blade running along metal. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. A woman with blades curving off her skin stood over you. Her eyes gleamed bright red.

“I live,” the Fae said. He struggled into a full standing position. “I returned.”

The woman smiled. Her teeth were all metallic, sharp as knives. “With a little mortal in tow, I see.”

The Fae shifted his position, trying to put himself between you and her. “The mortal is none of your business.” Under his breath, he hissed, “Run,” to you.

You stayed where you were. “Not until you’re bandaged. I need five minutes.”

“Run!” he snarled at you. The woman shook her head.

“Don’t send the little mortal away! Surely, our king will want to see who brought his loyal courtier back to him.” The woman’s hand curled around your upper arm. You froze. Blood seeped onto your fingers through the bandages.

The Fae gritted his teeth, but he nodded. “Stay close to me,” he murmured to you.

“Got it,” you said. You weren’t moving away from his side, at least not until the bleeding stopped.

Inside the clearing, the trees and undergrowth had shifted to form a sort of natural building. Fae of all shapes and sizes, dressed in wild and ornate fashion, stood all around. In the center of everything, seated on a throne, was who you assumed was the king.

He looked young, younger than you were expecting. He looked barely eighteen, possibly younger. His hair was straw-blond and he had a fair, fine face. The only sign that he was anything more than human were his eyes, which were pitch black, no sclera at all.

He smiled as you approached. “My old friend. How glad I am that you survived.”

The Fae dropped to his knees. “My king. I apologize for abandoning my position. I was poisoned with iron on the battlefield. I expected to die. I was only saved by the mortal here.”

The king tilted his head, observing you. You gave a slight bow. The wound was still bleeding, and you were desperate to get back to it. “The mortal saved your life?” the king said. He smiled. “How interesting.”

“As soon as I was able, I returned to the court,” the Fae said. “I throw myself at your mercy, my king. If you wish it, I will sacrifice myself for you. I expect nothing and will be grateful for-”

“Enough.” The king’s voice was mild, but the Fae fell silent immediately. “Mortal. Is what he says true?”

You took a deep breath. “Yes. I pulled him off the battlefield. I prevented him from dying or returning to you immediately, as he wanted to do. I had no other reason for doing this other than simply wanting to save his life. I expect no favors. I came along only out of concern for his health.”

The king looked at you strangely. “You are telling the truth,” he said. “You want nothing more than to see him well.”

“It is what I believe in,” you said. “If you accept him back into your court, I will leave. You don’t need to give me anything, and I won’t hold anything over your head.”

“And if I don’t?” the king asked. “I assume he told you what would happen if I turned him away?”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, he did. I… well. I doubt I could save him if you decided he should die.”

“You saved him and came here knowing that he may not survive? That you may be in danger as well?” It was hard to read the king’s expression. His tone was completely neutral.

“I followed what I believe to be right. If that leads to my death, then at least I will die nobly.” Your voice was steady, but you could feel your knees shaking. The king tilted his head at you.

“A mortal who does only what their conscience demands. Interesting,” he said. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a breeze picked up. The trees surrounding the clearing groaned. A shudder moved through the ground. The king lifted his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Hm. Interesting.”

The Fae gripped your calf with one hand. You glanced at him. “You okay?”

“The Queen.” His eyes were wide, frightened. “She is here.”

You looked around, despite not being entirely sure who you were looking for. “Where?”

He gestured widely around you. “Here. Everywhere. She so rarely leaves her kingdom. That’s why she sends the king…”

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

“The Queen is more than any other Fae. She is a part of the world around us. Beneath our feet, in the trees. The king is her consort. He rules only through her favor,” the Fae said hurriedly. His ears were twitching. The hand on your calf tensed and loosened alternately.

The king looked relaxed as he glanced around him. He seemed to be listening to something you couldn’t hear. “Truly? Hm. An interesting idea.” He tapped his fingers along the line of his jaw. “Mortal. The Queen has taken an interest in you.”

The Fae at your side sucked in a sharp breath. It was hard to tell whether it was due to being impressed or being concerned. Having a Fae take in an interest in you could mean anything from grand favors to being recreationally tortured, just to see how you’d react. The hand on your calf was tightening gradually until it started to hurt.

“Has she? I’m flattered,” you said in as neutral a tone as you could manage.

“Yes. She says that among both mortals and Fae, there are few who would stick to their principles so stridently.” The king tilted his head, again listening as the wind picked up. “Mm. Come here.”

He extended a hand toward you, palm up. You stared at it uncertainly. The Fae was still gripping your calf. His face was toward the ground, but what you could make out of his expression was terrified. Whatever the king wanted, it was dangerous.

The only thing more dangerous than accepting a Fae’s offer, though, was potentially offending the Fae. You were cornered. Slowly, you stepped forward, shaking the Fae’s grip off your calf, and took the king’s hand.

Everything faded. Noise became muffled and a faint, gray veil descended over the world around you. It was like you were looking at everything through a thick mist. The only vivid thing in the world was the pulsing form of light that had appeared next to you.

It was shaped vaguely like a woman, with streamers of light trailing off its vague head. The light pulsed in multiple colors, moving from red to yellow to green to blue. It wasn’t bright enough to be blinding, but looking at it head on hurt your eyes after only a few moments.

“You’re the Queen,” you guessed, lowering your head respectfully.

A voice, layered and vaguely feminine, echoed around the area. INDEED. The voice was vaguely amused. I AM GLAD TO SPEAK TO YOU. YOU INTEREST ME.

You licked your lips. “I’m surprised a mortal can hold the interest of one as impressive as you.”

The Queen laughed. NO NEED FOR FLATTERY. I SO RARELY MEET THOSE, MORTAL OR FAE, WHO HAVE PRINCIPLES THEY STICK TO SO RESOLUTELY. TELL ME. WHY DID YOU ACCOMPANY HIM HERE?

“He wanted to return,” you said.

THAT IS WHY HE CAME HERE, YES. BUT I ASKED WHY YOU CAME WITH HIM. SURELY YOU KNOW THAT A MORTAL APPROACHING A FAE COURT IS DANGEROUS? YOU COULD HAVE WASHED YOUR HANDS OF HIM AND NO ONE WOULD THINK YOU A POOR HEALER.

You hesitated. “His wounds. I couldn’t leave him. I needed to make sure he would make it back here.”

YES. I SURMISED YOU WERE FOLLOWING TO PROTECT HIM. BUT WHY?

You paused again. “Because I saved his life. He told me I should have left him to die. I saved him, so I needed to make sure he was going to be okay. A healer’s job isn’t just done when the physical wounds are healed. I needed to make sure he was going to be able to survive on his own. And if I didn’t help him, there was every chance he would have died.” You lifted your chin, looking in the vague location of the light’s face. “If I save his life, I am responsible for protecting it.”

INDEED. The Queen sounded pleased by your answer, though her echoing, pulsing voice made it hard to tell. THEN MY DECISION IS MADE.

“What deci-” The fog retreated and you were suddenly blinking into the king’s face. He smiled placidly and released your hand.

“The Queen has decreed it,” he said. “And I concur. Mortal. In saving his life, you have proven yourself worthy of ownership of it. I grant you his name, his land, and his titles.”

You blinked again. Very suddenly, with no idea how you knew, you knew the Fae’s name. You turned to look at him. He was staring back at you, looking bewildered.

“I thank you for the years in my service, old friend,” the king said. “When the mortal has passed on and your name is your own, you may return. I look forward to seeing you again.” He waved his hand. “Now, go. Leave.”

You were vaguely aware of being marched away by armed guards. Mostly, you were just looking at the Fae, who was staring back at you with a similarly lost expression.

The guards left when you were a sufficient distance from the king, melting back into the trees. Only then did you feel comfortable to turn to the Fae. “What just happened?”

“He gave you my name,” the Fae said, clearly still processing everything. “My life is yours. My land, my title… Should you wish for it, they are all yours.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times. “I don’t want it,” you finally said. “Can I just… give it back to you?”

The Fae frowned. “No. The Queen herself decreed it. To give it away would be a terrible insult. I wouldn’t accept it, and even if you managed to return my name, you would be a disgrace to the Fae Court and hunted for the insult.”

You huffed. “Then what am I supposed to do with it?”

The Fae knelt, head facing toward the dirt. “My life is bound to yours now. I am your humble servant, as I was to the king. If you wish it, I will take you to my lands. You can live there pampered and sheltered. I will care for all aspects of ownership. You will merely live in peace, as the guardian of my name and the owner of my life.”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, I don’t want that.” The Fae’s mouth twitched, a kind of amused smile, like he had known what you were going to say, but was pleased by the answer nonetheless.

“Then what is it that you want?” he asked.

“I want to keep helping people,” you said. “To continue my work. And I don’t want someone bound to me through servitude and an ownership over life. You’re not property. You’re a person.” You took a breath and looked up into his face, into his crystalline eyes. “What do you want?”

“I-” He paused, then pressed his lips together, as if uncertain himself. “I want,” he began again, haltingly. “I think I want… to learn. The Queen was right. You are fascinating. Even if I were not bound to you, I think there would be a part of me that would remain so. I would like to learn from you. See the world as you see it. Learn to value things as you do. If that would be amenable to you?”

Somehow, despite being taller, he gave them impression of looking up at you from under his lashes. It was a remarkably shy expression, and one that fluttered all throughout your chest before settling as a warm glow behind your heart. “All right then, Sarscillis. I think we can make that work.” You held your hand out toward him. Slowly, his rough palm met yours.

Sarscillis smiled at you. “I look forward to learning from you. And to being with you.” His smiled widened. “Even if you returned my name, I think I would have followed you. And I shall follow you still.”

#exophilia #monster lover #Fae lover #fae boyfriend #jackalope #monster boyfriend #Fae #fairy

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dreaminpetals · 3 years

Note

Yoooo can I get some norton sfw and nsfw headcanons 😳 your writing is top tier btw !!!!!

⛏ norton hcs ー sfw & nsfw . . .

art credit

SFW ;;

♡ norton deals with frequent mood swings, hallucinations, and intense survivor's guilt, so he had cold feet about relationships for a long time. he views himself as a burden and stain on society, he doesn't want to put anyone through the misery of dating him.

♡ if he had a partner all he'd do was hurt them, norton thought. he'd try to rescue them during a game but accidentally maim them, or lash out at them during a fit of uncontrollable rage and scar them forever.

♡ when he began to develop a crush on you, he was even more gloomy than usual. he cancelled plans with you, walked away the moment you sat down beside him, and refused to heal you even if you were standing in front of him and the hunter was far away.

♡ it was your compassion that made him fall. hard. although you didn't speak much, you always went out of your way to help norton and offered an ear if he needed to vent rather than being scared and fleeing.

♡ he thought that if he made you hate him then his feelings would go away, but it only made you more determined to support the crumbling man who had your heart.

♡ every time he thought about holding you, he would be plagued with visions of him hurting you right after. sometimes he would burst into tears when he met your gaze because he couldn't stop thinking about you dying like his coworkers.

♡ it took weeks of nonstop affection to convince him that you'd be safe with him and that you'd love him no matter what.

♡ he wanted to be as close to you as possible to keep you out of harm's reach, but he also didn't want to be near you in case he hurt you.

♡ your love was like magnets. he pushed you away, pulled you closer, pushed you away, pulled you closer.

♡ the best s/o he could ask for would he a levelheaded and understanding one, if you were calm and nurturing (but not overbearing) then he could have someone to pull him out of his fits of catatonia AND calm him down when he was blazing with fury.

♡ norton's rage would never be directed at you, it was always himself or anyone who posed a threat to you.

♡ he'd give hunters tons of shit for even daring to lay a finger on you. he didn't care if hastur was a god and norton was a man, he was going to calamari that bastard for letting you bleed out.

♡ huge fear of abandonment. he needs constant reassurance that you aren't complaining about him behind his back or planning to pack your bags and leave.

♡ when norton is in a good mood, he can't keep his hands to himself and acts so smug.

♡ you want to keep him in his sleazy money hungry moods for as long as you can, you insist on gifting him with stunning gems or interestingly shaped rocks just to see his face light up.

♡ he gets frustrated and genuinely upset when you tease him or don't give him what he wants but when it comes to teasing you? norton is the most mischievous man you've had the experience of meeting.

♡ he uses the height difference between you to his advantage, if you have a hat he can and will hold it above your head and chuckle as you try to reach for it.

♡ give him sweet food!!! he may not look like it, but pastries and candy remind norton of his childhood and have a calming effect on him. for every donut you donate to him, he'll kiss you in any spot of your choice.

♡ if he has a game on golden cave you'll volunteer to play it for him, he can't handle the claustrophobia and flashbacks he gets when he has games there. he appreciates it so much.

♡ favourite cuddling position is laying on his back with you resting on his stomach or under his arm with your hair splayed on his chest.

♡ burns everything he touches but will still cook and bake for you!!! maybe you should give him lessons?

♡ never knows how to ask to vent. he lets you know by talking to himself, saying "i killed them", that's when you drop what you're doing and console him.

♡ he wishes that he embraced love earlier, nightmares and hallucinations are easier to handle when he has someone clenching his hand and running their palm along his hair to calm him down and remind him it's not real. the voices that asked norton "why did you kill me?" are replaced by his lover cooing "norton baby, it's not real, you're safe in your bed, i love you so much dear" in his ear. he feels like he can handle anything with you by his side.

NSFW ;;

♡ like his moods, norton's behaviour in bed changes like the weather.

♡ norton is a fan of slow, intimate sex where nothing exists except you two. when you can mumble that you're hopelessly in love with him as you give light strokes to his cock, each lick worth a thousand words.

♡ other times, norton is brutally rough and you have to use a safeword with him.

♡ on bad days he'll enjoy humiliation or degradation, by having you beg for him or be called filthy names it reassures him that you aren't plotting to abandon him if you're doing all this embarrassing stuff.

♡ when he tops, he prefers to fuck you from behind and grip your hips until his nails like talons leave a mark, drawing blood. he can't control himself when he sees you submitting yourself to him and spanks you.

♡ holds you no matter what, when he wraps his arms around your belly as his hips snap into yours from behind he feels like he's protecting you.

♡ likely has a breeding kink as well, he wants to cum inside of you as deep as he possibly can and never pull out.

♡ he has such a thing for your hands ー their softness, their size, how your nails feel when they scratch his back, how you play with his hair... he wants those same hands to turn his cock into a red, leaking mess.

♡ candles. norton would use candles to set the mood and lighten the room so he could look at you better, but he would also enjoy watching (safe) wax trickle onto your skin.

♡ especially if you already have cum on you, he'd rub it in with his hands until they stuck to your body.

♡ something about the smell and the mess of it all drives him wild. the fact you're willingly letting him corrupt you like this is enough to make him cream in his pants.

♡ obsessed with claiming you, he would mark you up from head to toe and have you promise you wouldn't leave him while his teeth sunk into your skin.

♡ pulls your hair so hard that some chunks have accidentally come out... in the moment norton growls and fucks you harder when it happens, but once he cools down, he feels awful and wants to give you a massage.

♡ the heavy breathing and strings of curses that fall from his lips make your legs weak, his voice sounds huskier and more primal during sex.

♡ when he eats you out or blows you he digs his nails into your thighs and doesn't let go until you've cum at least twice, the unmistakable scratch marks left on your thighs leave him ravenous.

♡ norton doesn't like when you make references to past sex when he's in one of his happy moods, it's so embarrassing for him. but when he's in a teasing, possessive mood? the same room you mentioned it in would be the same room he jackhammers you in. even if there's other people, he'll find something to stand behind and act like he's fixing your outfit for you... don't try to tease norton when he's horny because he does Not show mercy.

#norton stans lets get it!!!!!#norton campbell #idv x reader #norton campbell imagine #idv prospector #norton campbell smut

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fandom-go-round · 3 years

Note

Can I ask for an Obey Me! request? Where the brothers (if you dont want to do all of them then just whoever you feel like writing for) make casual comments about weight related things and they dont realize it upsets the plus size reader until later. like causal comments like "oh that's allot of food" and stuff like that. hurt /comfort please! love you!

Warnings: Fatphobia, Hurtful Comments about Reader’s Weight, Insecurities About Weight, Crying, Emotional Reactions

Mammon:

Mammon always has a way of sticking his foot in his mouth and this is no exception. You’re at a modeling job with him, waiting for him to finish up his shoot so you can go to dinner together. You had grabbed a large smoothie on the way over and are sipping as you watch, half curious about how modeling works and half checking him out. You’re almost done with the smoothie when he makes the comment, coming over to hang on a quick break.

“You’re not gonna need dinner at the rate you’re goin’!” There’s no malice in his voice but you freeze, eyes wide as you look to see if he really said what you thought he did. Mammon doesn’t notice, jogging back over to the set as his manager calls him over. The rest of your smoothie quickly goes into the trash and you spend the rest of the shoot looking at all of the models and cursing yourself; of course the Devildom values skinniness like Earth does.

It takes Mammon days to notice that he’s upset you, mostly because he’s too busy running the high of having money again. He does notice when you dip out of movie night and refuse to let him take you to dinner. Everything comes to a head when he barges into your room demanding an explanation and you’re crying.

He feels like absolute shit when you tell him what’s wrong. He blows off all your reassurances that you’re used to this and that you know he didn’t mean it. Weight isn’t an issue that Mammon has ever had to deal with but he does know about being teased and made fun of. He’s quick to beg your forgiveness and make things right. He becomes your number one supporter, buying you cute clothes and whatever you want to feel better. He’s quick to snarl at anyone who even makes a comment vaguely talking about weight in your direction. Mammon would support you if you wanted to lose weight but might pout a bit; he loves that you’re soft and have places for him to grab onto.

Leviathan:

Everyone knows that anime and manga have some of the most unrealistic women out there. That doesn’t stop people from being into it or loving 2D women more than real women. Being into anime before the Devildom had you prepared for this but Levi takes it to another level with Ruri-chan. You shouldn’t have been surprised by the comment but you would have thought Levi might be able to understand, considering his own insecurities.

“I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t want to look like Ruri-chan! She’s the perfect woman!” You’re mind takes it the way you’ve always taken comments like that: ‘perfect woman’ means thin. You make an excuse to leave quickly after that, Levi only half noticing as he goes into another rant.

He doesn’t understand why you keep avoiding talking to him! An episode of your favorite anime is out and you refuse to come watch it with him! It’s blasphemy! It takes him almost a week to work up to nerve to come to your room and demand answers. Levi is a stuttering mess but when he finally gets out what he wants to talk about you look away, seeming almost as embarrassed as he is.

Levi starts to spiral in the middle of your explanation, blaming himself for being a gross otaku and giving you these thoughts. He know anime expectations are unrealistic (it’s one of the reasons why he likes it) but its another to see it used to hurt people. Both of you end of crying and there’s a lot of frank talk about body image. It’s a good way to bond, even if it did happen for a crappy reason. Levi is more sensitive to what he says and tries to find anime with more diverse characters. He also starts trying to find more plus size hentai… not for any reason in particular though!! He just wants to make sure there is some, that’s all!

Asmodeus:

Hanging out with Asmo can be a blessing and a curse. He’s beautiful and loves fashion and you love to go shopping with him. The downside to that is you have body negative days that tend to match up with Amo’s feeling great days. The shops in the Devildom are a lot like Earth’s; plus size store exist but they’re more expensive and harder to find. Asmo doesn’t fit into any of the stores you do and you never ask to go, not wanting to point out the obvious differences between the two of you.

“You really should take better care of yourself darling, just think of all the things that would look good on you if you did!” You freeze immediately at his words, dropping whatever you had been looking at like it burned you. Asmo had been watching you in the mirror, eyes trained on your hair and skin but all you could think of was your weight. That’s a harsh comment, coming from the Avatar of Lust and you have to resist the urge to burst into tears in the middle of the store.

He knows the moment you start holding back tears that he’s messed up but he has no idea what to do. He tries to explain himself but you wave him off just saying that ‘I’d like to go home now’. You both leave the store after that, heading back in silence. You quickly go to your room and skip dinner, making everyone interrogate him about what happened. Satan is the one who points out that it might be weight related and Asmo has to resist the urge to cry at the table.

He bursts into your room the next afternoon and forces you to get up. You were planning on staying in bed the entire day but he convinces you to have a spa day with him. You’re not mad at Asmo, just yourself. You know how vain he is so it shouldn’t have surprised you. Asmo, however, apologizes for the first ten minutes, practically begging you to forgive him. You have a conversation about dos and don’ts and Asmo takes it to heart, listening to you and trying to understand your struggles. After your spa day he surprises you by bringing out a mountain of outfits; he had run to some of the shops that fit you and got things! If there’s anything you hate it’s quick to disappear but he wants to pamper you and this is the best way he knows how.

Beelzebub:

Beel loves hanging out with you because you love food like he does. Not to the same physical amount of course, but you’re always willing to try new things and go new places with him. Everyone knows that if there’s a new restaurant you and Beel (and sometimes Belphie) are going to be some of the first people in line. Just because you love to eat doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the things people say about the two of you. You just wouldn’t have thought that Beel would say anything.

"That’s a lot of food.” You freeze, looking up from your plate to look across the table. Beel’s eyes are locked on your plate and not his own, even though his plate is pilled much higher than yours. “Are you going to eat it all?” You don’t hear anything after his second question, appetite suddenly gone. He doesn’t wait for your response, eating his own food with vigor and eating yours once you push it over to him.

You stop going out to eat with him after that, hardly eating at school or at the House of Lamentation. Sure, you eat enough so that no one says anything but Beel knows better. You don’t snack like you used to or eat cakes with him, you just eat and then that’s it. He talks to Belphie about it and his bother helps figure it out; when did they stop eating? Why? He puts it together after that, feeling horrible once he remembers you talking about how people used to make fun of you in the human world.

Beel shows up at your door the next day, a box from Madame Scream’s in hand and a determined look on his face. He asks to talk to you and you have a conversation about what he said, ignoring the box even as his stomach growls. He apologizes for upsetting you and says that he doesn’t care what size you are, he likes you for you. If people are going to make fun of you or try to bully you, he’ll protect you because you mean a lot to him. You end up splitting the box of treats with Beel, happier than you have been all week. He doesn’t tell you but he prefers that you’re bigger; he’s a big guy after all and it’s a relief not to worry about hurting you as much.

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edie-baby · 3 years

Text

Baby Boy Chapter 10 (S) | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (THIS CHAPTER TOO), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Mila and Lando arrived back at the hotel where both of their teams were staying. Mila offered her room for their movie night as it had the privacy of the master bedroom where they could have some privacy in case Victoria was staying in tonight. However, as they approached the pair’s room, they saw Max sitting outside on his phone, a determined look on his face when he looked up and saw his target.

With a purposeful march, Max made it to Milana in a few seconds, and without warning, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her. Not wanting to interfere as the two weren’t together, Lando stood behind the pair, waiting for a reaction from Mila so that he could either pull Max away from her or go back to his own room alone. The former happened, as Mila’s arms were desperately swatting at Max’s chest to get him off her. Lando yelled out for Alex as he knew his best friend was staying on the same floor as Mila. Alex popped his head out and saw Lando pulling Max away from Milana.

“Hey mate, let’s get you to your room. I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Alex tried to calmly move the large driver back to his room without causing a scene with the already annoyed Mila and furious Lando. He got him far enough down the hall that Mila felt that she could pull Lando and herself into her room without risk of the raging bull of a RedBull driver coming barging into the room.

Lando was even angrier than when the two had left the restaurant. Mila wanted to calm him down, but truly had no idea how to as she and Lando didn’t know all that much about each other. Mila stood halfway across the room from Lando, close to the front door of the room, feeling comforted by the slightly enclosed space. He could feel her looking at him, not knowing what to do or say or think, but Lando needed to do something. His footsteps were quick as he crossed the room, merely two seconds from when he first made a move until when he was right in front of her.

Lando roughly grabbed the sides of Mila’s face and kissed her with all of the frustration, the passion, the anger, the desire, the need he had for her. Her lips tangled with his in a perfect duet, her hands holding tightly to his wrists. The two separated to breathe, and Lando took a step back, breathing heavily as he attempted to process what he had done. She had just been forcefully kissed by Max, and now here he was doing the exact same thing.

His spiralling thoughts were cut off by the collar of his sweater being roughly tugged closer to the floor, where he realised the shorter woman was begging for him to kiss her again. He did so, just as hard as the first kiss, their noses bumped, their teeth clashed at some point, but neither noticed nor cared. All that mattered was them, together, and him, and her. The kiss seemed to heat up even further, Mila’s hands tugging on the brown curls she adored so much while Lando’s hands travelled to the back of the girl’s thighs to pick her up, her legs wrapping around his waist before he drove them both into the wall, his hand cradled the back of her neck, his thumb putting pressure on the side of her jaw. He used his finger to turn her head, his kisses moving to her neck, immediately targeting her pulse point on the side of her neck. He began sucking hard on the skin, and Mila couldn’t help but cry out from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips ground into hers, using the wall as leverage so he could get even more friction between their bodies. He continued to suck blood to the surface of the skin on her neck and the small portion of exposed skin of her chest that he could access with her dress still on. His feverish kisses moved back to her lips while he carried her toward the closed bedroom door. He used one arm to support Mila’s weight, using the other to turn the handle of the door, he kicked the door shut behind them before turning to push Mila up against this door as well. His hands began travelling more, his hands squeezing her ass, hoisting her thighs up higher for a better angle to grind into her cunt. And all Mila wanted was to get his damn shirt and sweater off. He chuckled, pulling her away from the door to move to the bed. Lando dropped the short girl onto the bed, who immediately sat up on her knees to help Lando get his tops off. He pulled the sweater over his head in one movement, and Mila had to admit it was such a sexy thing, for absolutely no reason other than it was Lando doing it. Her fingers were shaking with anticipation as she popped each shirt button undone until Lando was standing there in an unbuttoned shirt, his tanned skin and muscular torso all for her to see. His hair was in disarray and his lips were swollen and she had never felt luckier.

Without wasting any more time, Mila pushed Lando’s shirt off his shoulders, watching as it fell to the floor. His biceps had grown even more since she had first met him, and without the hindrance of a shirt, she could finally appreciate them for all that they were. Lando, however, wasn’t much in the standing around mood. His lips reattached to Mila’s, and his hands made quick work of the zipper on the back of her dress. His calloused hands ran over her shoulders, down her arms, and then followed the curve of her waist to her hips where the material finally fell to a heap on the bed, pooling around her knees. Lando’s eyes took in her heaving chest, covered by a sheer and orange bra, complete with the matching panties.

“You’ll be the death of me, Princess.” Lando’s voice was deeper and raspier than Mila had ever heard it before. And the pet name had her soaking through her panties. Lando laid her back on the bed, his kisses becoming softer and sweeter. His hand slid beneath her back, his teeth latching onto her nipple through the material of the bra, making her back arch. He undid her clasp with one hand, his other already occupied with hitching her leg higher up on his waist to allow a better angle to grind down into her. The coarse material of his jeans provided the most blissful friction right against her clit, and a hungry moan left her throat. She tossed her bra across the room after finally getting her arms out of it. Lando sat up on his knees between her legs, admiring the woman beneath him.

Mila’s eyes were closed, her head back against the pillow as she attempted to catch her breath in the brief pause. Her arms reached out for Lando, desperate to run her hands through his hair, to feel the muscles in his back working to keep him above her. Lando had grabbed her hands and tied them above her to the headboard, much like she had done to Max and Daniel. Except she had never been restrained before, she had always been the one in control.

And suddenly, the conversation about why Lando had such a passion for driving flashed in her mind.

But it's exhilarating, having all of the power, being the one in charge. It fuels me.

Lando sat back on his knees again, enjoying the view of Mila all tied up and ready for him. The hungry look on her face told him she was enjoying it a lot more than she might have expected, and Lando was about to make damn sure she enjoyed herself.

Mila felt caged, like prey. With her arms tied tight above her head, and Lando’s arms now on either side of her head to support his weight, she suddenly knew exactly why people loved to be dominated. Lando was watching her face, studying her when he saw the change in her eyes. Her eyes changed from dark brown to almost black due to the size of her pupils. A cocky smirk formed on his lips as he let his lips brush over hers and quickly moved away before she could make contact with him. The meekest whimper left her lips, and all of the blood left in Lando’s head travelled straight to his cock.

Lando’s attention moved from Mila’s face to her neck, the roadmap of hickeys would need to be continued now that he had her dress off. His lips began at her collarbone, and from there travelled to the valley between her boobs, reaching over once or twice to leave a mark on her tits. He couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over her pierced nipples just to hear the whines she would let out, and god did they please him. He continued further down, across her stomach, the sensitive spot on her hip bone that deserved a nice, purple love bite.

The orange panties were just too cute. They perfectly matched the papaya of the McLaren, he’d have to ask her to wear this on Sunday while he races, you know, for good luck.

Lando’s index fingers hooked into the waistband of the panties, his cold metal ring brushing along her waist accidentally. A shaky gasp pulled his attention away from the task at hand, and he looked up only to immediately meet Mila’s eyes. She was watching him, enraptured. He sent her a wink and licked his bottom lip in a quick swipe. Mila let out another one of those pathetic little whimpers that sent a shiver down his spine and right to his throbbing cock.

He pulled the panties off in a swift motion, he wanted to taste her, needed to taste her. His large hands took their place on the inside of her thighs, parting them just enough to fit his head between. He sucked a quick love bite onto the inside of her left thigh, making eye contact with the Czech as he swiped his tongue up her folds for the first time.

“You taste so good, Princess. So fucking sweet.” Lando growled, diving back into her folds with his tongue, licking a wide stripe up until he felt a little metal ball. He looked up at Mila with a raised eyebrow, using his fingers to part her folds and take a peek at the piercing in her clit. Mila looked at him sheepishly, but Lando only looked even more excited. With the heavy eye contact again, he sucked her clit into his mouth, using the barbell of the piercing to twist and turn and get every angle he could get his tongue onto her clit. Mila was biting her lip so hard, he was sure it was about to bleed. He moved his head from her cunt to look at her with a disappointed look.

“I want everyone in this fucking hotel to know that you’re finally getting treated right. And by who.” Lando’s mouth was right next to her ear, telling her directly what he wanted from her. He caressed her cheek with his hand, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She quickly took the finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and bobbing her head as much as she could. Lando swiped two fingers through her folds before bringing them up to her mouth and whispering to her.

“Taste yourself Princess.”

Mila gladly took his fingers again, working them with everything that she had, and he watched her in admiration as she looked up at him with those eyes. Mila released his fingers with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his middle finger to her bottom lip. He swiped his finger across her left nipple and blew cold air onto it, and Mila moaned freely.

Lando left wet kisses from her tits to her cunt, picking up exactly where he left off, his tongue working her clit while his fingers teased her entrance, hearing the whimpers from Mila only spurred him on further. He slid his middle finger in, curling it, stretching and preparing her for the second while still stimulating her clit and that lovely little piercing. Mila’s moans now where growing in volume. Lando added a second finger, scissoring them, then curling toward himself to brush over her G-spot, his fingers working in perfect time with his tongue to create a symphony of whimpers, moans and Czech curses falling off of her maroon lips. Her moans were as loud as yelling now, and he was sure the surrounding rooms would be hearing her already, and Lando was only just getting warmed up.

He added a third finger, continuing his coordinated movements, brushing up against the bundle of nerves ever so often to elicit a particularly loud moan. His eyes were locked on hers, his tongue still devouring her clit and folds. Lando decided to step it up a notch, and snaked his free hand around the outside of Mila’s leg to allow his fingers to rub her clit with a pace his tongue simply didn’t have. Mila’s moans quickly turned to a higher pitch, growing louder with each one as Lando’s fingers continued to scissor within her, his other hand rubbing her clit and putting pressure on it, while his tongue added stimulation to her clit.

“Fuck, Lando. I’m gonna cum. You’re so fucking good. Oh fuck!” Mila spoke each phrase between moans and pants. Lando increased his pace even more and had Mila screaming in pleasure in a few moments. Her vision had gone white, and a blinding hot feeling had covered her body. It seemed to light up every neuron in her body with a newfound purpose, and she wondered if sex was always supposed to feel like this.

Lando helped her ride out her orgasm, slowing his fingers to a slow pace, and stopping his assault on her clit. As Mila caught her breath and came back to reality, Lando licked his fingers clean, Mila caught the last few seconds, and figured it was safe as she would have cum again had she watched him from beginning to end.

“You were so good, Princess. You let the whole floor know just how good I can make you feel, but I want the entire hotel to know. You think you can help me with that baby?” Lando asked, Mila was still mentally recovering from her world shattering first orgasm, she didn’t know if she could take another. But she needed him. God, she wanted him too.

It was torture for Mila to watch Lando undo his jeans, and slide them and his Calvin’s down without being able to touch him. She wanted to taste him, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him. He granted her wishes quite quickly, as after he rolled a condom on, he ran his tip up and down her folds, sighing in pleasure at the sensation. He pushed into her slowly, pulling her legs further up his waist. He bottomed out and leaned down to kiss her slowly, pouring his true feelings into the kiss. She returned it, the same emotion flowing between them.

Mila wiggled her hips, urging Lando to move. He slowly pulled almost all the way out, and then snapped his hips to meet hers, burying himself to the hilt again. A cry tore from Mila’s throat as Lando set his pace, snapping his hips to meet hers at a bruising speed. Mila’s moans were high pitched, loud, and frequent, she wasn’t even trying to make the hotel hear her, but if Lando kept up with this, they were sure as hell going to know.

Lando hoisted Mila’s legs onto his shoulders so her could drive deep down into her, and for the first time all night, he let his hand close around her throat. As soon as he did, Mila’s eyes rolled back into her head, her moans even louder than before. Lando could feel himself slipping to the edge with the pace and angle he was at, and he knew Mila would get there, but he needed her to have the world’s best orgasm, because he was in control now. With one hand, he began undoing the belt that held her wrists to the headboard. His hips still snapping at the same pace, Mila barely knew what was going on due to the pleasure pouring into her body at a high rate of knots.

Lando pulled out and turned Mila onto her front. She quickly got up onto her knees and leaned her shoulders and face into the mattress, her back arched at an angle that would give Lando a hard-on any time of day. He lined up with her entrance, his hands grabbing onto her hips with a bruising grip. He slid into her easily due to how wet she was, and this new angle allowed for a much faster pace. Mila was screaming in pleasure now, her moans no longer expressive enough of the wondrous job Lando was doing. He felt himself nearing the edge, after waiting to touch himself for so long, he knew he wouldn’t last a long time, especially if Mila kept clenching around him like she was. Lando reached forward and grabbed Mila’s hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could hold her to his chest while fucking up into her.

The added hair pulling was the last push over the edge, and Mila fell back against Lando, who was basically being milked by Mila’s cunt, and came as well. If Mila thought her first orgasm was Earth-shattering, there were absolutely no words to describe what had just happened to her. It took multiple minutes for the both of them to come back down to Earth and rejoin reality. Lando was laid beside Mila, still slightly out of breath. He stood up to throw the condom in the bin, then reached his arms out for Mila to grab onto.

“C’mon baby, let’s have a shower. You’re not going to wake up early to have one before your breakfast with Vic. Plus, we’re a bit sweaty.” Lando giggled as Mila looked up at him with an incredulous look. He pulled her up from the bed, planting a sweet kiss to her lips before leading her into the bathroom. Lando stepped aside to turn the shower on and get it up to temperature, leaving Mila in front of the large bathroom mirror. She gasped and looked on, horrified, at her neck and chest. Every inch of her neck and collarbones were covered in hickeys, along with a trail of them leading to and from each boob. She looked accusatory at Lando, waving her pointer finger in the air at him like a mother.

“It’s not that bad, at least Max will get the hint now.” Lando growled, pulling Mila closer to his chest. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her for another kiss. The water was finally at what Lando deemed the ‘perfect temperature’ and as they got in, Mila understood exactly why. She felt the sex scum wash off of her immediately, and felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Austria. Lando and Mila helped cover each other in bubbles before washing off and getting into a bit of a water fight in the process. They climbed out, drying off with the overly fluffy hotel towels, and climbed into bed naked, wanting to enjoy each other as much as possible before Lando had to focus on the race weekend.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #team lando #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #mclaren f1 #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #call me eden

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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dialux · 3 years

Note

I’ve been going on a reading binge of all your Tolkien Women fics, and I cannot stop thinking about Indis. As a consequence I’ve created a headcanon that hurts my heart and I am going to inflict it upon you because this is clearly your fault.

Indis is one of those people just meant to be a parent, it fits her so well everyone knew it was just a matter of time before she became one. And once she gets married she tries so hard to be there for Feanor despite her own grief, but he won’t let her in. She has her kids and everyone congratulates her on having four (four!!) wonderful children, but in her heart she has five. Because Feanor might not have let her into his heart, but she certainly let him into hers, and she will always think of him as her eldest son.

It will haunt her to the end of all days and beyond, that he was always her son but she could never truly be his mother, and on her bad days she thinks that every catastrophe and death of the first age can be laid at her feet for not succeeding in the one thing everyone said was her speciality.

Okay, so a) fuck you, b) fuck you, c) fuck you. This story is basically just saying that, only in more euphemistic terms, anon.

...

Once, there were three: a woman with fair hair, a man with fair eyes, a woman with fair skin.

...

The woman with fair skin is captured and taken by the Dark One to his fortress, where she languishes for long weeks in grief and agony. She is not turned, even as those captured alongside her become evil beings, twisted and gruesome and cruel. Melkor wonders why this woman- this limpid-eyed, weeping girl- can withstand what no other has managed.

He does not get the chance to find out.

The woman with fair hair storms Utumno. She drags her sister out alongside whoever is left of their people. But the fair-skinned woman collapses only a few days’ from the chill of Utumno, and she shows her sister the secret she expended all her fea upon: a child, a fair-haired, fair-eyed, fair-skinned girl.

Intyale the Fair-Haired buries her sister Indis in a cave of glittering light. Then she takes the child down to her people, and she bids her brother, fair-eyed Ingwe, to watch their niece. Indis he names her, for the mother she will never know, and he raises her as his own daughter, this girl who bears the brightest things of all his family.

...

She is the daughter of all three of them. Of Indis the Slain, and Intyale the Bright-Speared, and Ingwe the Grand. Indis bears one woman’s name and another woman’s steadiness and a man’s strength. She is the princess of the Vanyar. She will always be that.

She will always remember how desperately her mother fought to keep her alive. Hidden in Utumno, chanting song after song of hiding and cleaving and darkness, straining for one more moment- one more moment- to keep the little babe at her breast alive- defying Melkor himself-

The Vanyar suffer the greatest of the losses to the Dark One before ever Orome comes to them. They- none of them, not from the eldest down to the youngest child- will ever trust Melkor ever again.

She was born in grief.

The Doom that Namo places- it is shocking, it is pitiless, it is cruel. But then Alqualonde still rings with the laments of the Teleri. But then, Finwe is dead. Melkor has taken not just one from Indis’ life.

She was born in grief, and, as one by one her children too learn that taste, she wonders: Perhaps the doom is my own.

...

When she is very young, she asks Intyale: What did I get from my mother?

And Intyale- this, Indis remembers very, very well- had paused, and considered, and then said, Her silence.

...

From Indis her mother, she receives silence. From Ingwe, she receives the knowledge of ruling and leadership. From Intyale-

-from Intyale, she receives the strength of will to remain unbowed.

...

Indis loves Miriel with the kind of love of a calf for its mother: overwhelmingly, adoringly, all-consumingly. She spends hours with Miriel, learning to weave those tapestries, hands tangled in thread of silk and cotton and wool, eyes affixed to the wall just as often as she watches the silver spirals of Miriel’s hair.

The Noldor tend to craft to show their passion for the world, but Indis has nothing of that: she is a fair dancer, a well-versed scholar, a singer of surpassing talent. None of them call to her more than the rest.

She aids Miriel often, now that the building of Tirion is almost complete. Indis enjoys sitting with her and with Finwe, sipping a salty-hot tea as the light changes from gold to silver; she often falls asleep there, slumped over in her chair, and returns only at the second Mingling to Ingwe’s abode.

...

This is what they all forget about Miriel’s death: it was slow.

Slow and lingering and painless. She had dignity unto the end. Finwe clutched her hand until it could not be held. Little Feanaro is the only person in all of Aman, they say, who has lost his mother.

Indis bites her tongue until it bleeds, and does not speak.

...

Intyale dies upon the hills of the Ered Luin. Indis is still young in those days, not quite an adult and not quite a child. Three children are gamboling near the water, and there is- something. Not quite something, but not quite nothing either. Intyale realizes before anyone else, and flings herself forwards, bare-handed.

Bare-chested.

The water boar is driven backwards into the river. Indis grabs the children. Two maiar run, grasp the situation, calm the boar down with songs. Intyale emerges from the river dripping.

She collapses upon the sand, and Indis is there in heartbeats: Intyale is the only mother she remembers, distant and proud though she may be. When she dares to let her eyes drift to Intyale’s chest, everything tightens up inside of her. Her mother is rent open, from breast to belly.

“No,” says Intyale, and reaches up, and grips Indis’ chin tighter than she ought to be able to, so close to death’s door. “Look at me, little one. We are more than our flesh.”

“You are dying,” whispers Indis, trembling.

“Yes,” says Intyale bluntly. “Call for Ingwe.”

Not for the maiar, who might save her. And not for the Valar either. Intyale has given up: Indis doesn’t realize this until later, but her mother- her aunt- would not have called for Ingwe had she not been determined to join the sister she watched fall.

Intyale forces Ingwe to swear to care for Indis as he would his own daughters. Then she asks for her spear, and to be burned until even her bones show no ash. She tells everyone who her sparse belongings must go to. And then, fingers clutching the bone-spear, she dies.

...

(Feanor, too, burns. Half her family burns to death, Feanor and Fingolfin and Fingon and Turgon and Maedhros and- and- and-

That fire is not of Finwe alone. Fire can be taught to catch, and Feanor never burned quite so brightly to anyone else as he did for Indis and her usurpation of his sainted mother. No: the fire is Indis’ inheritance, and Indis’ gift.)

...

Intyale does not tell anyone who her bone-spear should be given to. Indis finds herself holding onto it, and somehow never lets go.

...

This is what they forget: Miriel was the first to die in the peace of Valinor.

The second is Finwe.

...

Feanaro has lost his mother, but Indis will become that mother if he will allow it. She would wish for nothing more. Of course she wishes for nothing more.

But he does not.

Indis watches him when he does not realize. She can see it- the grief, the loneliness. He is a little boy, and Finwe is not half the father he would wish to be, and there are impossible things in this world that Indis wants- her mother, her Miriel, her peace- but most of all she just wants little Feanaro to be happy, to know happiness and joy and trust in it instead of fearing the joy will turn cold and dead in his arms.

...

Miriel had been- quickly angered.

So had Finwe. So do most of the Noldor. Indis is patient enough not to pay much attention to it.

Well. She is patient.

...

Miriel had been easily provoked into greatness. A few insults, a carefree comment- Miriel would sit at her loom and weave, something ever-greater and ever-better. Even now, the finest gown in Indis’ keep is one that she received from Miriel the day after she spent hours insulting Miriel’s taste in fabric.

Indis would have done that to her in those awful weeks after Feanaro’s death. She would’ve gone in and insulted Miriel to within an inch of her life, made her so breathless with rage that Miriel would have levitated out of her bed to strike Indis about the face.

But Este’s healers- called in when the labor lasted for more than two days- refused to hear of it, and Indis could only watch as Finwe’s face went whiter by the hour and all they heard from the sickroom were little Feanaro’s wails and the healers’ murmurs. She obeys the Valar: she watches Miriel fade into Lorien, and never return.

Little Feanaro is all that’s left of Miriel.

She is certain that he’s very much like her, too.

...

Feanaro thinks that his dislike of Indis comes from her marriage to his father. Perhaps the dislike deepened into hatred then; Indis does not know. What she does know- for she’s ensured it- is that Feanaro hated her well before her marriage.

...

(“I expected better of you,” says Indis, once.

Feanaro is three years old. His eyes are Miriel’s in shape and size and beauty. Indis, determinedly, does not flinch.

“I’m just doing with Rumil taught me!” he exclaims.

“In Valmar,” says Indis, “children learn their letters by the time they turn a year old.”

Feanaro flushes red. “I don’t like these letters. They don’t make sense.”

“Then make your own,” says Indis, careful not to let sympathy seep into her voice.

She does not smile when the news percolates through Valinor of Feanor’s Tengwar. She does not smile, but oh, oh: how she wants to!)

...

This is what they do not see: Feanaro is young, and while fire is forever dangerous, while fire is forever alluring, it is too easy, far too easy, to stamp it out. Especially when it is young. Especially when it is small.

Indis would have been the shelter to that little flame if he would have allowed it. But he will not, so all she can do is throw fuel onto the fire. Chaff and dross and dried straw: insults and backhanded compliments and petty slights. If Feanaro will not let her protect him, then she will build him so high that none will ever be able to strike him down.

(Letting him die was never an option.)

...

Finwe dies, and they leave, and then Feanaro dies, and then Findis disappears, and then Nolofinwe dies, and then Arafinwe comes to her, for the first time since his father’s body burned in Tirion’s courtyard.

“We have been given leave to go to Beleriand,” says Arafinwe quietly, solemnly. “Morgoth shall be defeated and thrown into the Void. The Vanyar shall all come, by King Ingwe’s decree.”

“Is there something you wish to ask me, then?” asks Indis gently.

Arafinwe swallows, one reflexive jump of his throat. “Will you join me?”

Indis rises. Steps away. Goes to her bedroom and plucks it from the wall, and returns in time to see her darling son’s shoulder slump with frustration.

“I will not,” she says. Arafinwe jumps, startled. Indis steps closer to him and presses the bone-spear into his palms. “I will not return, Arafinwe, to that land. Already it has taken much from me. I will not offer it more.”

“But-”

“Take this,” says Indis. “It is your grandmother’s.”

Surprise glitters in his pale eyes. “I have a sword.”

“This has already held off Morgoth once,” says Indis. “There are tales that will never be told, of the courage of the elves that never saw the Blessed Isles. Intyale Bright-Speared was your grandmother named, and well-named was she! This spear held Morgoth back long enough to release prisoners in the depths of Utumno before ever Orome saw us, long enough to let Intyale’s sister flee. Long enough for Intyale’s sister to hand the child in her arms over to Intyale.

“The sister’s name is Indis,” says Indis. “I was that child. I was named for her.”

Arafinwe stares at her. “You speak so rarely of them.”

“I’ve no desire to relive tragedy for the rest of my life,” says Indis flatly. “Now come. You’ll need to learn how to use that, if you wish to hold Morgoth hostage!”

...

Perhaps she began this, when she chose this path.

Perhaps she could have averted this.

But Indis is the daughter of Intyale, and it will be her bone-spear held to Morgoth’s throat at the end of this awful, deathful road, and if nothing else- if nothing else- she has the will to remain unbowed, this girl born in the shadow of Utumno, this woman who watched all those around her fall as wheat before a scythe, this mother who would rather her children loathe her than die, this daughter who has lost both mothers and knows, bitterly, the whole of that unfathomable loss.

...

That is what she tells Feanor, finally, when he returns to life.

There is something thoughtful in his gaze. He nods, and returns, a week later, and when she blithely tells him that his sons have inherited his monotonous fashion sense, Feanor flushes, and then pauses, and then says, carefully, “I’d rather it be monotonous than Finarfin’s gaudiness,” and Indis drinks her tea- salty-hot, just as she likes it- and she says, smiling, “I am glad you can be taught.”

#indis #feanor #miriel #silmarillion #my writing #dialux answers questions #i cannot believe i wrote a story abt indis and gave finwe literally no speaking lines but it's FINE it's all FINE i promise it's FINE #anon i would like to formally challenge you to a DUEL what the H E L L #Anonymous

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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years

Text

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 2

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: none for this chapter :)

Ch. 1

A/N: So I only did minor research into the area mentioned (meaning I used my memory lol) so please bear with me :)

You stopped to get gas before it was your turn to drive, and you and Johnny argued again while Jaehyun went inside to buy snacks. He didn’t stop or look your way on his way back to the car, just got inside, put his airpods in and tucked into the snacks. By the time you got inside the car you were livid.

“You think you’re always right and it drives me insane!” you yelled at your best friend as you got into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t think I’m always right! But I know I’m right this time!” he yelled back.

“You can think that way all you want, doesn’t mean everyone has to agree with you!”

“I don’t need you to agree with me, I just want you to keep an open mind!”

“I have an open mind! I just happen to know exactly how guys like this are!” You immediately stopped talking, realizing your mistake, and hazarded a cautious look in the rearview mirror to see if Jaehyun heard you. He was looking out the window, humming along to the music playing in his airpods, seemingly oblivious to your tirade.

Johnny sighed in frustration. “Listen, just hold out for the next few days and I promise I’ll never ask for another favor ever again.”

You opened your mouth to answer but there was nothing else to say. Johnny put his airpods in, rested his head on the headrest, and closed his eyes.

You sighed too, turning on the radio for some background noise to drown out the thoughts in your head. You didn’t mean to be so stubborn, you really did have an open mind and weren’t usually so judgmental with people. But your ex-boyfriend had been a player, someone you had loved and trusted and he had broken your heart. You’d had a difficult time trusting anyone since then, and Johnny had been the only one you could confide in. He’d been there with you as you cried your eyes out over pints of rocky road, answered your drunken rants at four in the morning, forced you to eat real food after bouts of depression robbed you of your appetite. So you were completely incensed that he would want you to make nice with someone who had the same qualities as the man who had broken your heart.

Anger bubbled up again the more you thought about it, but before you could give it a voice you felt someone poking lightly at your elbow. You turned to see Jaehyun handing you a bag of gummy bears.

“I meant to give this to you earlier but you seemed busy,” he said softly, keeping his voice low as Johnny was lightly snoring, “I got it at the gas station. Here, I opened it for you,” he propped the open bag up on the console and then sat back in his seat.

You don’t know what came over you but you suddenly felt tears prick your eyes, and quickly swiped them away with the back of your hand. You saw that it was your favorite brand too, not a common one so he would have had to search for it.

“How did you know?” you whispered, still in shock. This was the last thing you’d expected from him. You figured getting you into bed was the only thing he was interested in, not the brand of candy that you preferred.

“Johnny told me,” he shrugged, and gave you a small smile before going back to his airpods.

You shook your head, determined not to let this sway you. It’s going to have to take more than just gummy bears to get you on my good side, you thought.

You set your jaw and stared at the road ahead.

---

When it was Jaehyun’s turn to drive you sat in the backseat and tried to sleep, but the two of them were laughing and joking around so much that it was distracting you. You hadn’t ever really noticed their dynamic, but now that you were a captive observer you couldn’t avoid it. Johnny was just as funny and laid back as he was with you, but there was an easy rapport he had with Jaehyun that you’d never seen before. And this was definitely a side of Jaehyun you’d never seen. He was goofy, cracked silly jokes and made even sillier faces. It seemed like they had a ton of inside jokes, because every now and then they would just crack up after a moment of silence. You were blindsided.

“Y/N, I thought you were going to sleep,” Johnny had noticed you, staring wide-eyed at them.

“Sorry, were we being too loud?” Jaehyun said softly. You blinked twice and then rearranged your features.

“No, it’s okay, I wasn’t tired.” You took that moment to look outside the window and noticed something. “Hey, we’re not on the 101 anymore? Where are we going?”

Jaehyun and Johnny exchanged looks before Johnny turned to you, “We’re heading to a bus station, Jaehyun’s going home.”

“What?” you asked in shock, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jaehyun answered lightly, “I just figured it was a mistake for me to come along, there’s uh, stuff I need to get done.” He cleared his throat at the obvious lie, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Oh,” was all you could say. Your emotions churned in your gut, almost making you feel nauseous. While you’d love for it just to be you and Johnny, like old times, you couldn’t deny that something about Jaehyun was pulling at you. Neither of them spoke after that, and the silence in the car was deafening. You knew exactly why he was leaving.

“What kind of stuff?” you challenged.

“Huh?”

“What kind of stuff do you have to do?” you stared at the back of his head, hoping he felt your eyes boring into his skull.

“Uh, just some, uh, things for work.” He answered, rubbing the back of his neck - a telltale sign of someone not telling the truth.

“Mm,” you hummed. You turned to your best friend, who’d been quiet throughout this entire exchange, “Johnny? Do you have something to add?”

“Nope, nada, nothing.” He made the motion of zipping his lips, and you knew exactly why. In all the years you’d known Johnny, he was incapable of lying. He would stutter, his face would turn red, and he would eventually blurt out the truth in frustration.

Taking a glance at his roommate, Jaehyun laughed nervously. “No really, Y/N, it’s important stuff I need to take care of, I didn’t tell Johnny about it till now. My fault.”

Johnny’s face indeed turned red, “Y-yup! He told me just, uh, just now! N-no idea, he, uh, had this… stuff, he had to d-do for uh, ummm, w-work… ah screw it!” He pulled his hair in frustration. Jaehyun looked over at him, an anxious look on his face. You waited in the backseat.

“He said he heard us arguing and he knew it was about him and he can see that you’re clearly not happy with him coming along! Okay??!! Are you happy?” Johnny blurted it all out in one breath. Your jaw dropped open. Jaehyun’s face turned beet red, all the way to his ears.

“You- you heard us?” you said quietly.

“No! No I didn’t really hear anything, don’t worry!” he tried to smooth everything over, but you knew from the look on his face that he had, “I just don’t want to be the third wheel, this is your trip with Johnny, I shouldn’t have come along in the first place.”

“Dude, I basically forced you to come.” Johnny said in a deadpan voice.

Jaehyun smiled weakly at Johnny, “Thanks man, I know you meant well. I’ll be okay.”

The last part he said with a vulnerability in his tone that made your chest ache. You looked over at his face but it was stoic, only his eyes held something faraway. Despite your misgivings about him, you thought you shouldn’t rob him of time he could spend with friends. You definitely needed it after your breakup, so it would be terrible to keep it from him as well.

“I don’t agree with this plan,” you suddenly said, making both of them turn to you in surprise, “The bus station will take us too far out of the way, adding more driving time to the trip and therefore making it more exhausting for everyone involved-”

“Actually I calculated it and it’s just an extra twenty min-” Jaehyun began.

“-and,” you continued, completely ignoring him, “I totally don’t believe you about this so-called ‘stuff’ you have to do anyway so don’t even bother.”

Johnny snickered, punching Jaehyun lightly in the shoulder, “Told you she wouldn’t believe you!”

---

The little detour put you off schedule so by the time you pulled up to the roadside motel it was late, and the last room left had only one bed. You sighed in exasperation, wanting to blame the two of them for their stupid little charade that put you all in this position.

“Theoretically, it’s a king-size bed so we could all fit…” Johnny started, and you shot him a look that could kill. He only shrugged. “I’m just saying, I’m not precious about these things. I’ll sleep anywhere with anyone. You two figure it out then.” He grabbed his suitcase and started to unpack.

You looked at the bed longingly, you had meant to sleep in the car but never got to, and you were exhausted.

“You and Johnny take the bed,” Jaehyun offered, seeing the look on your face, “I always sleep better on the floor anyway.” Before you could protest he took the extra blankets and pillow from the closet and laid them out on the floor, making a cozy little nest for him to sleep in.

“Is it okay if I wash up first?” he asked, and both you and Johnny nodded. When the bathroom door closed behind him Johnny smiled widely at you.

“See? See what I mean? Isn’t he nice?” he needled you, elbowing you in the side for good measure.

“There’s more to being nice than just giving up a bed for one night,” you huffed. Johnny made like he was going to scream.

“You’re something else, Y/N,” he shook his head, “but I know you, you’re starting to warm up to him!” he teased, acting like a middle-schooler making googly eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rolled your eyes at Johnny’s antics. You should’ve been used to his behavior by now, but his teasing was starting to get to you.

“You wouldn’t let him go home! I thought for sure you’d be happy that he wanted to leave! I thought you’d say ‘oh, you want to go home? Well go ahead then! Boo hoo you broke up with your girlfriend! Sucks to be you!’ but you didn’t!” Johnny started laughing then, clutching his stomach and falling dramatically to the floor. You wanted to punch him, and if there hadn’t been a third party to witness it you would have certainly done damage.

“No one deserves to be alone in his position,” you said in your defense, “No matter what I think of him, breakups suck and I wouldn’t want even my worst enemy to suffer like that alone.”

Johnny stopped laughing, wiping away the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. He put an arm around you and smiled.

“Thanks, Y/N. That’s all I wanted, was for you to see him as a human being with feelings, not just some preconceived notion of what he was like.”

“I guess he’s not so bad,” you weren’t completely convinced, but at least now you were willing to give him a chance, “besides, the two of you seem really close so I wouldn’t want you to miss out either.”

“Aww, I love you too!” he pretended to sob and pulled you in for a hug. You sighed, laughing at Johnny’s penchant for the dramatic.

“You guys are so cute,” Jaehyun had come out of the bathroom, changed into a simple black tee and plaid pajama pants. His hair was slightly damp, his bangs falling slightly into his eyes, his face fresh and his skin dewy. You’d never seen him in that light and you couldn’t help but stare. He smiled shyly when you noticed him, and quickly went over to his blanket nest.

“Hey, if it’s okay, can you spare an extra pillow? I need something to hug to help me fall asleep.” He seemed hesitant to ask, but it seemed that he was feeling more comfortable with you.

“Oh, sure,” you looked over and indeed there were three pillows on the bed. You grabbed one and threw it to him. He caught it handily and flashed you that dimpled smile, and you actually felt your face flush. You turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see, but Johnny had caught the entire scene and giggled at you. You mouthed for him to shut up, throwing a pillow at him too, but he dodged it easily, laughing the whole time. When you picked up another pillow to throw at him he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Coward!” you yelled, and you could hear him giggling behind the door. Jaehyun was sitting on the floor watching the two of you, laughing softly. You couldn’t help but smile at how happy he looked, it definitely made you feel good that you could lift his spirits like that.

“You and Johnny are so fun together,” he mused.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,�� you answered, sitting on the bed to face him.

“He told me you grew up together?”

“Yeah, we were neighbors for a long time. We went to the same schools, our families hung out together, that kind of thing.” This was certainly the longest conversation you’d had with him, but you found that you didn’t mind it.

“Mm. That’s awesome. I wish I had a friend like that. I moved around a lot as a kid, so I don’t have any lifelong friends. You guys are lucky.”

“Oh. Well you and Johnny seem close? I know you haven’t been roommates for long.” you offered.

He nodded, “Johnny’s one of those people that you like right away, you know? He’s just really chill and really nice, like really nice.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you agreed.

“It makes sense that you two would be friends. Nice people attract nice people.”

Wait, was that a line?

“Well, good night,” he said, pulling his blanket up and turning over. He pulled the extra pillow towards him and hugged it tightly, and soon enough he was snoring softly.

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #nct imagines

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amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years

Note

62 and 76.... Because payback 😇😇😇😇

DELETE THOSE HALO EMOJIS RIGHT NOW!!! Ok, this one got away from me because me writing smut always = the length of a novel, but saucy times are ahead!! I didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes 😅 I hope you like this Jonerys train ride to smut town (even if it was an attempt at payback, PFFFFFT)!!! ________________________________ Prompts: "“You’re not as quiet as you think you are," and “Daddy!” “So...date number three, eh?” Missi waggled her perfectly manicured brows at Daenerys through the computer monitor. “That sounds promising.”

“I hope so,” Dany said, flitting about her bedroom as she tried on different outfits and presented them to Missi and her mirror. She had a difficult time deciding what tone to set. She presumed it was safe to up the ante to something a little sexier by the third date. It had slowly been escalating that way, and if the way Jon devoured her with his eyes and his hands indicated anything, she reckoned that clothes were just going to be an obstacle this evening, anyway.

“Well, what’s he like? Tall, dark and handsome?”

“Am I that obvious?” Dany sulked halfheartedly, then smirked. “Yes, except not so much tall, but I think he’s perfectly sized.”

“Aaw,” Missi cooed, leaning forward and setting her chin on her fist. That mirth returned just as quickly, though. “Just how perfectly sized?”

“Missi, you filthy girl,” Dany chastised good-naturedly. “That hasn’t happened yet, but I’ve no doubt that he can deliver.”

Of course, Dany had more than just thought about when they might get to that point. It was going so well so far that neither had seemed quite ready to make that next leap, but her gut told her that that drought would be coming to end shortly.

“He’s great,” Dany continued, digging through her closet for another option. Four dresses down and yet not one had completely screamed ‘you should probably rip this off of my body yesterday’. “He’s got a really dry sense of humor, which I love. He’s the perfect mix of polite and saucy. He’s obsessed with wearing all black, but somehow I find that incredibly sexy. Like...a mystery man. I’m fairly certain he could break my back if he wanted to, but I might need to coax the animal out of him.”

Missi spluttered. “Break your-?! Oooh. Oh, I see,” she drawled, tapping her index finger against her temple with a slow nod. “You know, on that note, may I make a suggestion?”

“I’m all ears,” Dany said perhaps a little too hastily, jumping back into view of the screen as she shimmied into a little black dress.

“Oh, wait! That one!” Missi half shouted when Dany reappeared and zipped up the side.

“Really? More than the red?” She looked down at herself. It wasn’t the slinkiest number she owned, but she definitely didn’t hate it. It tapered at her waist and flared down to just above her knees, and the eyelash lace straps were off-the-shoulder.

“Really,” Missi said, solidifying the decision. “You said he loves wearing black, so it’s perfect. Plus, it’s seductive and classy. You look great.”

“Okay,” Dany breathed, “okay, good.” Dany looked up at Missi’s face with a determined expression. “Okay, now what was that advice you were going to give me?” ********

After Dany had finished up curling her hair, she had threw on some matching strappy heels, just finishing up with a couple light dabs of perfume when her doorbell rang. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so bloody nervous when she had felt fine all day. All week, actually, especially after the high of their second date being such a fun time the past weekend. Maybe it was Missi’s...suggestion...that had her a little rankled. Dany didn’t feel particularly confident about trying it out if things heated up later, but after she told Missi a little bit more about Jon’s personality, she was insistent that it wouldn’t ruin a thing. In fact, she had been willing to bet an organ that it would turn him on even more.

Stopping before the door, she collected one deep breath, if not just to steady her heart. He was sure to feel it when they hugged. Not to make him wonder if she would ever answer, she unlatched the door and pulled it open. All of that work to calm herself had been for naught. Tonight, he’d pulled half of his hair back, and he was donned in his usual all-black attire, but this time it was a button-down shirt beneath a slim jacket with slim-fit trousers.

His hand was casually tucked in his pocket, and his smile immediate when he got a view of her. “Hey. You look gorgeous,” he grinned crookedly.

“Thank you. So do you,” she returned, tucking some of her hair behind her ear as she stepped out to join him, her clutch in hand. She made sure to lock up quicky, his hand slipping around to her back once she was done and tugged her close, pausing just before her lips for silent confirmation.

She tilted her chin up and gave him her answer, their lips slotting together. They broke away sooner than she would have liked, but they did have a dinner reservation to make. Plus, it probably wouldn’t do well to have a full on makeout session in the apartment hallway.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he murmured, pecking her lips once more, twice, until she was grinning ear to ear.

“I haven’t tried to stop thinking about you,” she replied saucily, noting how dark his eyes became at the sentiment. A look she very much wanted to see again later.

Jon’s voice was raspy and thick when next he spoke, but she could see he was waging some sort of internal war within himself. “We’d best get out of here before we start something indecent and scare your neighbors.”

With a skip in her step, she happily accepted his proffered hand and joined him out to his car.

********

As was expected, dinner had been wonderful. He’d surprised her on the location, choosing a rooftop terrace right in the middle of the city, which looked out at the harbor and the setting sun. The palette of the sky with the clouds reminded her of spun cotton candy.

They exchanged stories of their families, their previous disaster jobs, and what it was like for each of them to make big moves to the city from a country life, the sacrifices they’d made to make such a decision and the adjustments.

He kept her laughing until her cheeks ached and her eyes watered, and the way he took her in the whole two hours they dined and conversed had her skin tingling all over. Maybe some of that was aided by her wine, but she at least had the wits left in her to nurse her two glasses. It was starting to get dark, and the garden lights on the terrace had been switched on, and the nightlife crowd seemed keen to populate the area. Their tranquil bubble felt a little disrupted. Jon sat back in his seat, elbow propper up on the back of it.

“Want to get out of here?” He asked, and she nodded, grabbing her purse. After a few minutes of bantering back and forth on who would pay, Jon won over, but Dany made sure to leave a generous tip.

Hand in hand, they weaved through the hoards of people that had gathered inside since they’d arrived, which was a slow process.

Abruptly, Jon pulled her a little closer and took them into a men’s restroom. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but he drank down her words with his mouth, his body pressing hers against the door. Dany moaned as his tongue speared her mouth, his greedy hands taking handfuls of her where he could, but there wasn’t so much give in a slightly constricting dress.

She could feel his erection against her abdomen, delerium already looking to take her under, her arms locking around his neck for better leverage. Her fingers idly toyed with some of the curls that had been left down at the nape of his neck, sweeping her tongue over his to get a taste of him.

Jon fit his thigh between hers, pressing against her cunt and making her head toss back to thump against the door with a gasp. She rubbed herself against him while his warm tongue laved down her neck, leaving small nips of teeth inbetween.

Somewhere in her haze, she remembered what Missi had suggested, but she was so beside herself with lust that she couldn’t think of when the appropriate moment would be. However, one thing she did know was that she wanted to see him come undone. Already he was doing the same to her, and he’d barely touched her yet. If he could get this much out of her just with his thigh as friction, she looked forward to seeing what other talents he might unravel for her.

Seeming to read her mind, his free hand dropped to lightly trace up her inner thigh, her skin quivering under his touch and her breaths coming in as short pants of anticipation. His lips were all over her chest, her collar bones, and his fingers traced the hem of her panties, her stomach twitching.

Just as he shifted lower, grazing over her covered cunt with little pressure, a desperate whimper on the brink of release, the handle to the door wriggled. They both froze, whilst Jon planted a strong, firm hand against it to ensure it didn’t open. He separated from her skin with a wet pop. “Occupied!” He called to the other side.

Through the music in the background, the other man’s words were muffled, and then he returned with a clear, “there’s three stalls in there, ya bloody wanker!”

Dany held her breath, and Jon lifted his black-as-pitch eyes to gaze hard into hers, his breath fanning over her face. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace of her panties and brushed them over her soaked center. She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes squeezing shut as she fought off a sound that definitely would have been heard through the miniscule barrier behind her.

“I need to piss!” The stranger shouted once more, and Jon had had it. Frankly, so had she; it wasn’t completely romantic to have some drunk man reminding them every thirty seconds that he needed to relieve himself.

He was careful to move her away from the door and cut her an apologetic look, though kept her out of sight and removed his hand from beneath her dress while he wrenched the door open with his other, just enough to be seen and heard. “They’re all out of order. Go upstairs,” he ordered, then promptly closed the door in his face.

Jon quickly looked around the room until he seemed to find what he wanted: a rubber door stop. He picked it up and crouched down, jamming it as hard under the door gap as he could, giving it a test, and finding it satisfactory, he moved to the sink and washed his hands. His eyes were hungry on her in the mirror, and she squeezed her thighs together. “We could always go back to my place,” she offered with a thin voice, her mind rightly frazzled by his attentions.

After he dried his hands, he approached her and pulled her against him once more, his desire still just as evident as minutes ago. She looped her arms around his hard torso, under his jacket, a soft smile on her face. “I don’t think I’d make it to your place without causing a public scandal. And by my observation…,” he lowered his lips to the shell of her ear, sending a full-body quiver down to her toes, his hand curling around her upper, inner thigh, fingers just grazing over her cunt. She rose up on her toes, her forehead bumping against his chin. “...Neither can you.”

That much was good to know, that he was just as wound up as she was. He seemed to know how to keep it a little more tamed than she did, but she was determined to get it out of him by the end of the night.

His fingers continued their path until they discovered her clit, a wanton groan passing between her lips. Jon tested and teased to see what she liked most, what made her react the best, coating her with her own juices, making her writhe on her heeled feet. As soon as he crooked two fingers inside of her, she buried her echoing cry into his shoulder, her hands that had been grasping at his sides now raking nails where they clutched to him for dear life.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” he husked, and for a beat she was horrified; her ears were half muted by the blood rushing around them so violently, feeling herself on the edge of crumbling, but then he pulled her earlobe into his mouth and growled, “I want to hear you, Dany.”

She pulled away so she could see him - so he could see her, and the power that he had over her then - just as his thumb began to circle over her clit in tandem with his fingers pumping. His beautiful lips fell open and she couldn’t resist them, reaching forward to clamp one between her teeth, finally, finally getting a heady reaction out of him in the form of a groan and he sped up his pace. Dany suckled on his lip, but quickly cuffed her hand around his neck, her hand curling into a fist as her back bowed and her muscles strained and strained until-

His hand disappeared, and she nearly wept, a millisecond away from cresting but now there was nothing to bring her there. With her head in the clouds, it took her a second to realize he shrugged out of his jacket and laid it out on the countertop, then he was back, lifting her up with her legs around his waist while he kissed her like a man starved.

Her heart was thrashing in her chest, their kisses sloppy and messy as they each fought for air at the same time. In no time at all, she was planted on top of the counter, his suit a protective layer. “I don’t want to ruin this,” she protested, but he gently hushed her, swallowing up her worries with his mouth.

Jon found the zipper to her dress and pulled it down, and she helped by pulling the top half below her breasts, eager to have him completely fill her, but to gauge his reaction. His hands were ginger as they roved up them, exploring this new flesh, thumbing over her pebbled nipples and pulling a soft moan out of her.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Dany?” He croaked,situating his hands back at her waist and diving down to replace his hands’ actions with his mouth.

In response, she cried into the open room, pushing her chest forward and holding his head closer against her. She would be dreaming about this for weeks to come, she already knew it, while he sucked each sensitive bud into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth.

“Jon…,” she heaved, and she needn’t say anything else as he stepped back and got to work unbuckling his belt. While he did that, their eyes never leaving the others, she was even faster unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it down his shoulders, stopping short and breaking from his gaze to let her eyes feast on his body. All smooth, lean, pale skin and cut muscle, she used the soft pads of her fingers to slither down the length of him, smiling when his muscles jumped.

Shirt discarded, she followed the movements of his hands as they shoved down his trousers and boxer briefs, his thick, flushed cock springing free. A part of her, for just a time, couldn’t decide if she wanted it worse in her mouth or in her cunt.

But she needed the release from him, and she needed it now. He bunched up the skirt of her dress and moved it out of the way, and she took advantage of his position and ran her hand over the smooth, drawn skin of his cock, smoothing her thumb over the weeping head.

She observed him as he huffed out a harsh breath, hands spread wide over the counter, head ducked with restraint twisting his features. Scooting forward to the edge, she stretched her legs wider and circled the head of his cock over her cunt. Jon whimpered against her shoulder, opening his mouth to sink his teeth into her flesh and making her jerk forward, his cock sliding over her sopping slit and forcing a shout from them by the shock of it.

His hand tangled in her hair and he smashed his mouth against hers, removing her hand as he took hold of his cock and slid it between her entrance and her clit several times, her mouth falling open with a silent noise.

In one push, he slid home, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head where she saw stars of white burst behind her lids. Jon groaned wildly, giving the both of them a little time to adjust to the intrusion, until she couldn’t wait any longer and moved her pelvis as best she could in her position.

It was enough to get him going, slowly dragging out to his head, and back in, her cunt clenching around him. She braced her arms around him and used her forearms atop his broad shoulders for some leverage, refusing to look away from him to the best of her ability.

With every squeeze of her channel around him, his jaw muscle ticked and brows wrinkled at the middle. The thing she wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue, but it still didn’t feel right just yet. “Faster,” she gasped, his solid left hand grasping her hip to keep her steady while the other went to her clit, thumbing circles over it in rhythm with his thrusts, which were picking up.

Every forward lunge he exhaled sharply, the movements becoming more shallow the closer he got to spilling. Dany pressed her forehead against his, her skin pimpled with gooseflesh and foreign noises ripping from her throat, things she didn’t know she was capable of producing.

He was still being a little too careful, and she needed that final shove to let go, so she flattened a palm behind her on the surface and gave herself just enough strength to meet him thrust for thrust, undulating her hips in small, jerky circles, his lovely face screwing up in response. His eyes momentarily fell to watch between them. “Fuck,” he choked.

Dany threw her head back, the combination of his thick cock burning and incinerating her from the inside out, his thumb working her clit, her being right on the cusp of her orgasm, and just the sight of all of him alone was too much to bear. “Daddy!” She bellowed, her eyes flying open as she feared, for a fraction of second at his sudden silence, that she had completely fucked herself over, and not in the way that she had hoped to finish.

But to her utter delight, a chest-deep growl tore from him and he gathered her up posessively, finding what she would have surmised to be an impossible angle, opening her up further and picking up where he left off, but each stroke of his cock was a filthy drag over her clit. Dany practically screamed as he struck a spot inside of her that was likely to have her collapsing onto the floor if he didn’t have the hold on her that he did.

The noises he was emitting spurred her further, and dully in the very depths of her mind, she acknowledged that an achievement had been unlocked, and Jon was no longer caging the beast. He suckled at her neck with what air he had left, until his movements evolved into something more erratic, and she was gone.

“Oh...Jon,” Dany sobbed, wave after wave extracting lewd, boisterous chants out of her, her skin damp and sticky, cold and hot all in equal measure.

A few hard pumps later Jon followed, mewling and grunting and stilling as he emptied inside of her. His forehead rolled onto her shoulder, heat rolling off of him in waves. She was so spent and sated that she wished she could drift off to sleep right there.

“I think I died for a moment there,” he wheezed, coaxing a drowsy snort out of her.

“You and me both,” she murmured, relaxing in his hold.

He helped her get her dress back on properly, over her body that felt no more useful than dead weight. Gently, he pulled out of her, then reached over to the box of tissues and tenderly cleaned her up. Her face flushed furiously, even though they’d just fucked in a public bathroom, but the gesture was so intimate that she was rendered speechless. Since that was the case, she lifted his chin and kissed him.

His lips pulled into a grin. “What was that for?”

“Because I wanted to,” she replied, laying one more on him before letting him go. He was reluctant to, but they couldn’t hold up the restroom much longer unless they wanted security to barge in on them in the state they were in.

Jon tossed the tissue and when he turned, she got her first full glimpse of his ass that was more luxurious than this fancy building. Her eyes bugged, eyes glued to the perfect pert globes until they were covered by his clothes again.

He was oblivious, but that was yet another thing that she looked forward to seeing in her dreams every night.

Helping her down from the counter, he made sure her dress was back to rights, then folded up his jacket and slung it over his arm casually, taking her hand.

There was no preamble - they simply ducked out of the room as if it were natural for them to have both been in there. Dany didn’t even dare to look to see if anyone was staring, keeping her head down and on the floor, chewing on her cheek.

Once outside in the car park, they both erupted into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “I’m sure we’ve already been blacklisted, but I honestly couldn’t care less.”

They stopped at his car, and before he could let her go to open the door for her, she leaned against it and brought him with her. “It was well worth the trouble.”

Jon smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead, lingering there for a second longer. “So...is that a go for a fourth date, then?”

“It would’ve been even ifthe bathroom sex never happened,” she assured, “but, I have a special request.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Aye?”

She gave a single nod. “Can we start the fourth date right now? I need to see this-,” she grabbed two handfuls of his ass, and he grunted, “again. For...science.”

“Hm,” he hummed, closing the small gap between them to press his lips against her still-swollen ones. “That depends. Are you going to call me ‘daddy’ again?” He whispered.

“Did you like it?” She inquired, genuinely curious, but also crossing her fingers that he had. She was eager to be on the receiving end of all his wicked tricks.

“I thought I made it obvious,” he said against her, pulling back to see her clearly, “did you like it?”

Feeling sassy, her lids grew heavy. “I thought I made it obvious.”

Jon yanked her against him as he stepped back, smirking at her yelp. He leaned around her to pull the door open. “I don’t think you made it obvious enough. Might have to show me again.”

Standing on her toes, she pecked his cheek. “Gladly.”

#jonerys #jonerys drabble #couldn't sleep so dabbling in the drabbles prompts #ENJOY YA PERVS!!!

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