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#wish i wasn’t such an all or nothing type of person.
claiestve · 9 hours
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HEY I HOPE YOURE DOING GREAT !!! I have an idea so … this scenario is like a week before they became a couple (audio 9) and they had a day off since listener finished a case and they decided to take a day off. As listener got ready for sleep they got a little sad and basically went to sleep crying, Isaac still saw light coming from the room and since it was late he decided to check up on them. He walks in and as he was about to turn of the light he sees the tears and puffy cheeks from sleeping listener THEN ISAAC GETS SOFT AND WORRIED SLOWLY TOUCHING THEIR FACW AAAAAAA
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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Isaac
˜”* ❝𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚.❞
⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.
⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯
It’s been so hard to get used to this type of life. Yeah, it’s been some time but damn, this shit is hard. You felt like you didn’t belong here no matter how much closer you and Isaac got, it just felt like you were out of place. And what about when you left? It didn’t feel like he wanted you to stay even if you wished he would. It was getting difficult for you to hide your feelings for him. 
There was nothing left to do anymore. You finished any piece of work that came your way and now, you were left by yourself in your own company. It was peaceful but it felt overly lonely. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately, lonely. It was hard for you not to get all in your head when you were alone like this, especially at this time. Isaac was busy and there was nothing to distract you. 
Why did this have to happen? You didn’t need a savior if things just went differently. It just felt like you were a burden on Isaac and you did not want to feel like that. Your eyes tear up at that. The thought that you were a burden on the only person you had, someone you really fucking like too. 
Now, you’re sitting here bawling. It seemed so silly, like something you’d do if you were still a kid. Just crying about nonsense. But, it was your head getting to you. You were just glad Isaac didn’t see you like this. It would’ve been mildly embarrassing and you didn’t want to deal with that at all. You weren’t even sure if he was up at this time. You decided to go to bed as it was late and crying wasn’t going to fix anything, no matter how much you needed to.
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“Y/N?” 
Your door cracks and eventually glides open revealing a sleepy Isaac. He came in to check on you since you left your lamp on. He already knew you were asleep but something inclined him to just get closer and check. 
“You awake?”
A hand glided across your face with gentle intent. It was a sweet, soft touch almost like a caress. His hand met and caught a tear from your closed eyes. “You’ve been crying… why…”
He focuses on your puffy red face. He wasn’t used to seeing this, not from you at least. All of a sudden, you feel the bed move a bit. When you lifted your head, there he was, draped on the bed next to you. 
“Isaac, why are you in here?”
“The light was on and um, I was worried.”
“Aw, thank you for worrying but there’s nothing to worry about.”
You roll over, looking away from him. You knew he saw your face but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it. You’d rather hide under a thousand heavy covers than let him see your face like this. It was embarrassing and you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 
“Please look at me.” He says in a desperate tone. It was on the verge of an eager request with a slight whimper.
With that voice, damn, you wanted to. You wanted to do anything he asked if he asked in that tone. 
“Why?”
“I want to look at you when I talk to you.”
You sigh and turn around seeing his face. His expression is full of concern and sympathy. It wasn’t a pitiful expression, no, it was so much kinder than that. Somehow, it was comforting. 
“Y/N, why were you crying?”
“There’s just a lot going on in my head right now, don’t worry, Isaac.”
“Are– are you sure? I mean, I can sit here and listen to you talk about it if you want.”
That was sweet of him but you didn’t want him losing sleep. Not for something like this anyway.
“It’s okay. Go to sleep, Isaac.”
“Fine,” He stood up, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
i miss isaac so bad now i know how the andrew fans felt UGHSAHG
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thatone-churro · 2 years
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why am i my entire family’s venting wall.
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kimstills · 1 month
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i can see you
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pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader.
word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao)
notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333
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aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.
he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.
and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.
but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.
no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.
it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.
you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.
it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.
the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.
the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.
while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.
aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.
he cleared his throat, “what?”
aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.
“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.
he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”
rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”
aaron’s brows furrowed.
“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”
aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—
his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.
from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.
the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.
he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”
you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.
michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”
although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.
before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”
another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”
ew.
this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.
aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.
you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.
the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.
“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.
“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.
you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.
a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.
“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.
aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.
“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.
you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.
“use your words, honey,”
the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.
you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”
aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.
not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.
aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.
“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.
he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”
“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.
he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”
his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”
“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”
aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.
he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.
you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.
aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.
you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.
his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.
he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.
aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.
as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.
a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.
“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.
you whimpered, “just for you,”
“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”
you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”
his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”
with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.
oh shit.
your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.
he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.
you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.
“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”
you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.
he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.
you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.
you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.
“still good, honey?”
you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.
smack!
aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”
you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”
“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.
humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.
“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”
he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.
you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”
he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.
you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.
the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.
“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”
you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.
from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.
his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.
you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.
“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”
you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.
“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”
you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.
“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.
“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.
you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.
you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.
“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”
it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.
the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.
you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”
he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”
that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.
you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.
he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.
“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.
you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”
he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”
your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.
he pinched your nipple.
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surftrips · 3 months
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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
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i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 
“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 
“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 
“Why?”
“Why…. am I sorry?”
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 
When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”
“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 
“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 
“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 
“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 
“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 
At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 
“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 
“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 
“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 
“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 
“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 
“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 
“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 
“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—
“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 
“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 
“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 
Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 
“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
1K notes · View notes
phas3d · 4 months
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Celebrity Crush|| Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: suggestive jokes (all)
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: you're either friends or enemies and they see you freaking out over your celebrity, making them jealous. they search them up only to find out that the celebrity looks almost exactly like them
alternative :: your celebrity crush looks nothing like them
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DRACO (enemies)
Your group just watched the newest movie that came out
Ever since then, you couldn’t stop gushing about how hot the villain was
Although the villain was an awful person, you still went on rants about how fine he is
Your friends kept laughing at how out of pocket your jokes were
“I can fix him I swear, just give me a chance” you grieved as if someone died
"I'm gonna get on all fours and start hitting my chest like a gorilla if he keeps looking this fine" you said with passion, not scared of the whole school hearing you
Draco, despite not wanting to say it, was extremely jealous as he gripped his fork extra hard as he heard you
He was a dick, why didn’t you like him? Maybe he wasn’t hot enough? He’s always been slightly insecure about his appearance
The second lunch ended, he ran to the bathroom and secretly looked up the actor
But as he looked at him… he realized he wasn’t too far off from the actor
Their faces were almost completely different but, they both had short bright blonde hair, cold blue eyes, always wore green, and had similar body types
From seeing that, he smirked to himself and got an ego boost
He goes to sleep with a fat ass grin on his face
He won’t directly say the actor looks like him, but he’ll know it deep down
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TOM (friends)
Although Tom could stand being around you, he wished he could mute you out
You two were studying together in his room
Or… he was studying while you kept replaying the same edit of some random celebrity
“He could take my eggs and eat it like skittles”
Tom has literally killed and tortured people but he still widened his eyes slightly at your comment
He felt a small bit of jealousy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared of losing his only friend or because he liked you
(It’s because he likes you but he’s not that emotionally aware)
Tom has always been nosy, so he tilted slightly to see your phone
That’s when he saw a man with pale skin, brown eyes, and wavy brown hair
But beside those basic attributes, he also had the same nose as him along with a resting bitch face
He doesn’t show it, but on the inside he felt much calmer
It gave him a small sense of hope that maybe one day, he could actually be seen as attractive by someone
No one has ever confessed or even liked Tom romantically throughout his whole life due to his insane hobbies
He sleeps a little bit better with the thought that maybe someone could like him
And he really hopes it’s you :)
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MATTHEO (enemies) (I made this so long on accident... whoops)
You two clash constantly due to Mattheo’s class clown behavior and your goody-two-shoes attitude
He was always cracking mean jokes and bullying your friend group since you were kinda nerdy
You despised him and have beaten his ass multiple times (with magic) but he still doesn’t learn his lesson
But that's mainly because he thinks it's hot when you beat his ass and yell at him
Once again, he was walking towards your group to pick on you guys once more, especially you
But that’s when he heard you freak out over some random character
At first he thought it was just some lame anime character, that's how you usually are
But when you start showing your friends the photo-card in the back of your phone, he realizes it’s a real person
Instantly, he's pissed and jealous of a stupid piece of paper
He stalks you until you repeat the celebrities' name so he can google him and ruin his career
But once he looks up the idol, he sees that he also has dark curly hair with deep brown eyes
He actually researches and tries to learn about the idol more so he can take note on what you like
That's when he learns that the idol is known as a funny and protective person, just like him
He giggles to himself and decides to be insanely cocky
He prints out a photo of himself in the same pose as the idol, rounds the corners, and even puts his own signature on the back
The next day, he hands it to you and is smirking to himself
But... surprisingly... you didn't know it wasn't the idol????
You smiled widely and freak out, you thank him and quickly put it in the back of your phone case
From that, he smiles insanely widely. Not only at how cute you were from freaking out, but by also knowing he's on the back of your phone without you even knowing
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THEODORE (friends)
He's always known you were a fangirl but it was normally for weird things
You've had a few celebrity crushes over the years, but it's never been this extreme before
"GOD I WANNA LIVE IN HIS TOILET!!!" You shouted as you stared at a photo of the celebrity
Theo never understood how people got so attached but he was curious
How hot was this guy for you to like him THIS much? and why was he so jealous?
Theo has always been confident in his looks since he pulls bitches left and right
But, for some reason, he's suddenly strongly craving your validation
He asks you to show him the celebrity, only to see an almost exact clone of himself
Light fluffy brown hair, green eyes that were the same shape as his, thick brows, and a strong jaw
Theo smiles lightly and shakes his head, you perceived it as him making fun of your crush
You hide your phone from him and proceed to watch a pile of edits of this man on loop
Although he didn't get the hype of being a fangirl, he supported this one
He researches the celebrity during his free time and tries to become more like him slightly
Of course, he doesn't change anything drastically
But he might get the same shirt or shoes as him
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LORENZO (rivals?) (can you tell he's my favorite?)
You and Lorenzo were constantly at the top of your charms class within the entire school
Both of you have constantly gone head to head with each other just to compete for first place, only to tie for it together
There was no hatred or extreme feelings, just a fun rivalry that was oddly flirtatious at times
While you were in the library with a few friends studying, you suddenly start slamming your fist on the desk
Lorenzo was often in the library in order to check out new books to read in order to beat you
He looked over, worried that something bad happened
But all he saw was you on the floor, as if you melted, with your phone held high showcasing a man
He was curious as to how you got to the floor so fast despite banging on the table only 2 seconds ago, but he didn't care
Many people in the school shipped you and Lorenzo, but you both always denied it in order to not make it awkward
But, Lorenzo has liked you for ages. Despite that fact that he's a fuckboy, he would give up everything just to kiss you
"I would save his nail clippings and make a necklace out of it" You said in a harsh whisper that made all your friends hold back a laugh
Lorenzo was shocked, he's never seen you be so vulgar
He felt slightly hurt, not only by the fact that you were freaking out over some celebrity but also because he's never seen you act like this with him
"The things I would do for this man is un-ex-plain-a-ble" You aggressively whispered as you slammed your fist on the desk again
The librarian came around and told your whole group to shut up, which made Lorenzo happy
He decided to do his usual routine, he walked up to you and flicked you on the head as a joking gesture
You wince and hold your forehead, that's when he looks at your phone and sees the name of the celebrity
He repeats the name over and over and over and OVER in his head until he gets to his dorm and instantly searches him up on his phone
That's when he sees how similar he is to the celebrity
At first, he was doubting it since he didn't want to be cocky
But he told Theo and Theo instantly agreed, saying the celebrity looks just like him
Sharp jawline and cheekbones, fair skin, soft light brown hair, brown eyes, and even the same body build
He smiled to himself, feeling a bit of self love for himself from seeing how similar he is to your favorite celebrity
He's always been slightly insecure of his body build due to most of the guys in Hogwarts being buff as shit while Lorenzo was slightly more lean
But seeing the celebrity be called the heart-throb of the year made him really happy
After he knows all of this, he's much more confident around you and even finds subtle ways to bring up how he knows your type
Uses this as evidence against you to make you blush during petty arguments
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
id love to request spencer reid with a shy!reader🙈🙈 i love him sm and your work even more!! if this doesn't appeal to you thats all cool i hope you have a great day!!!
Love you <3
Spencer Reid x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
Spencer peers over the top of his cubicle as you type up your report, the mug of coffee he’d brought you still full and no longer steaming. He’s got a hypothesis. 
On Tuesday, he’d brought you a coffee at your desk. It had gone over like most interactions with you; you’d gone a bit red in the face, thanked him profusely, and cradled the mug in your hands like it was the most precious thing in your possession. But when he’d left that night, Spencer had seen the mug sitting on your desk, still full to the brim with dark, cold coffee. He’d brought you another today to see if those results would repeat. He feels a bit guilty for not just talking to you about it, but he’s got a theory and he knows you’d deny it if he asked. So instead, he’s sneaking furtive glances over the top of his cubicle, waiting until enough time has passed to call it. 
“What’re you peeping at?” 
He swivels his chair and Morgan’s leaning his hand on Spencer’s desk all suave-like. Spencer makes a face indicating he should be quiet, but you look up with a quiet “Hm?” and there’s nothing Morgan loves more than exposing him for his schemes. 
“Pretty boy here keeps looking over at your desk,” Morgan says. Spencer turns again, and your cheeks are already getting pinkish. Another thing Morgan loves: bringing attention to you, even though it’s your own personal circle of hell. “I just want to know why.” 
“I’m testing a theory,” Spencer admits. 
Unabashed interest gleams in Morgan’s eye. He quirks an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” 
Spencer tries to convey some apology in his look, and by the wariness in your features you read it. “You don’t actually drink coffee, do you?” 
The response is clear even before you open your mouth. Your eyes drop to the full mug on your desk, shoulders hunching inward sheepishly and face taking on a fire engine-esque hue. 
“I don’t,” you say quietly. And if there wasn’t already enough apology in your tone, you tack on a quick, “Sorry.” 
“No, don’t be sorry,” he says quickly while Morgan looks between you two and the coffee curiously. “That’s what I thought.” 
“Hold up.” Morgan’s eyebrows go up, and you shrink further. “I brought you coffee just the other day. You’re telling me you’re not drinking it?” 
“No,” you murmur. You look as though you fully expect to be shunned for your answer. 
“Then why not say something?” 
Spencer thinks that’s fairly obvious, but he’s not going to answer for you. 
“I just…” You’ve got your hands in your lap now, probably fiddling with something under your desk in that nervous way of yours. Spencer wishes you’d warm up to them. You’re new and green and always so certain you’re doing something wrong, but he wishes he could pull your hands from beneath the desk and soothe them—soothe you—until you were comfortable. “I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate it.” 
He can see Morgan ready to dissent, so Spencer cuts in. 
“Do you just not like coffee?” he asks, trying to stay as far from interrogative as he can for your benefit.
You do seem to relax a bit, pulling your stare from Morgan’s eagerly. “I just can’t do caffeine,” you admit. “It makes me too jumpy.” 
Spencer can’t really imagine you much more skittish than you already are on a daily basis, so he agrees that’s for the best. 
“I have seen you drink it, though.” Morgan’s voice is bemused. “In the break room. You had a cup just the other day.” 
“It was decaf,” you tell him softly. 
“We have decaf?”
“Have you looked on the top shelf of the cabinet?” Spencer asks. “There’s a surprising amount of variety. We have decaf, teas, hot chocolate mix—sometimes even apple cider mix.” 
You nod, starting to look less fidgety. Spencer likes to get you like this when he can. It’s an ongoing project of his. Maybe it’s just that it’s easier to relax when the people around you are relaxed too, but there’s something about setting you at ease in particular that makes his chest feel warm and full. That might be something else to look into. When he has time. 
“Yeah, yeah, the wonders of the top cabinet.” Morgan waves this off, as if he’s ever heard of it before (he hasn’t, Spencer can tell). “All I’m hearing is that you let us bring you coffee for weeks just because you were worried we’d bite your head off if you said something.” 
You grimace, but there’s a bit less tension in you now as you look up at Morgan, thoroughly chastened. “Sorry,” you all but whisper. 
“Fine,” he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “I forgive you. Decaf only from now on, got it.” 
“Thanks,” you squeak as he turns around, sauntering back to his own desk. Your eyes find Spencer, meeting his for a fraction of a second before dropping to his chin. “Sorry I didn’t drink your coffee.” 
“It’s really fine,” he almost laughs, and the humor in his voice gives you the confidence to lift your eyes to his again. He’s glad for it. “I don’t care, I was just curious why you didn’t like it. And for the record,” he leans closer to the short wall dividing your desks, speaking low, “if there’s anything else like that, you can tell me. I won’t bite your head off the way he does.” He cuts a glance towards Morgan’s desk. You push your lips together, tamping down a smile. Spencer grins too, partly to encourage you and partly because he wants to. 
“Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, a new teasing edge to it that he likes the sound of. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.” 
“Great.” He reaches over, taking the mug from your desk. “I’m going to go pour this down the drain. Do you want me to grab you a decaf?” You can’t seem to decide between thanks so much and really, you don’t have to, so Spencer brings you one anyway.
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selfishdoll · 6 months
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❛ ..SO, SO MUCH.❜
I need you bad I can't take this pain | Boy I'm 'bout to go insane ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ♡ NEED U BAD.
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ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 SUMMARY.
you thought you were fine breaking up with your highschool sweetheart & avoiding him for a year. when, in actuality, you were not.
ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING.
angst (tiny amount), jaded reader (at first) exes to lovers, y’all were highschool sweethearts fr, tattoo artist! choso & college student reader (both 21+), “i missed you” type sex, choso being a sweetheart & very understanding, reconciling, multiple orgasms, oral sex (fem receiving ofc he’s a munch), soft dom choso, pet names & praise, excuse the amount of plot i got carried away, etc.
ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 NOTE.
jasmine sullivan & yoci carrying most of my plot ideas. this took way too long omg. also, excuse any typos or grammar mistakes as this wasn’t proofread. also this is 4k+ words so yeah.
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How did relationships work? How did love work? Relinquishing a part of yourself to someone, expecting them to cherish and take care of it; doing the same for them. It was something you found silly, maybe even a little arrogant. You’ve seen too many woman in your life give a part— even their entire selves to their partners, only for the relationship to fall apart. Cheating, lies, simply drifting away from one another; so many excuses, so many reasons on why you avoided relationships like the plague.
Until you met him, Kamo Choso.
You remember clearly as if it was yesterday. Freshman year, he was seated in the back of your shared English class. Boredly looking ahead as if he didn’t want to be there. He looked rugged, maybe even a little depressed; overall, you didn’t see yourself becoming friends.. let alone lovers.
Oh, how wrong you were.
Choso had somehow slipped into your life through your beloved shared friend Yuki Tsukumo. From then on things fell into place. You don’t know when or why you started falling for him.
Was it because he was so caring to his younger brother Yuji? Or maybe how sweet he was to you? Always asking if you were okay, always by your side when things got tough, always encouraging you..
You fell, and you fell hard. But Choso fell much harder.
To him, you were perfection. Carefully crafted with zero flaws. He wanted to get on his knees and thank your mother personally for creating you. That’s how much you meant to him.
The moment these thoughts entered his mind he acted fast, declaring his feelings for you sophomore year of highschool. Not even letting himself linger for a month. He wanted, no, needed you as his. And to his happiness, you returned the feelings. From that day, highschool was nothing more then a bliss-filled blur.
You two became known for your loving relationship, many believing you two would marry after highschool. It was silly, you two were teenagers— yet the thought did make you smile. Everything was just.. perfect. There was nothing more you could ask for.
Until, talk of the future entered the bond you two had.
You wanted to become a nurse, planning to attend a college that had an excellent reputation for its program. While Choso wished to become a tattoo artist in your city. One wanted to stay, and one wanted to go. Choso declared he could handle a long-distance relationship, but you couldn’t. As selfish as it was, you simply couldn’t bare the thought of being away from him for so long. What if he strayed? What if you did? You couldn’t bare it at all— something you tearfully confessed to him the week before you moved onto campus.
You vividly remember the scene, it burned into your mind with no chance of escaping. How Choso stood silently, patiently; listening to your concerns and worries— expressionless when you apologized and ended the relationship. And what did he do? He approached you, carefully wiping away your tears as he’s done for you before.
“Take care of yourself.. okay?” He spoke, taking your cheek in a gentle grasp and leaning down; kissing your forehead— sealing the deal.
That chapter in your life was over. You weren’t with Choso anymore, mind focused on your studies and nothing more. A relationship would drag you down anyway.. you didn’t need him.. you didn’t miss him.
“Shit..” You hissed softly, quickly pulling the wand away from your eye, blinking rapidly. It was your own fault; rushing to put mascara on. You should have better time management skills given you were in college and all— but no. Here you were, fighting against time while attempting to finish getting yourself ready for a block party. You hadn’t a clue who was throwing it, only told — or more like forced — to attend by Yuki.
You jolted in your seat when a loud honk come from outside your house, moving around your vanity to peer outside; spotting Yuki’s familiar car. You breathed softly, standing from your chair and fixing your attire. You wore a cute white ring halter top, along with blue jean shorts and black wedge sandals. Gathering your phone, keys, and purse; the gold chain around your ankle jingled as you exited your bedroom and soon house, locking the door behind you.
Yuki rolled down her window, grinning at you as you walked down your driveway. “Uber for (Y/N)?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at her shenanigans, opening the passenger side door and entering, shutting it behind you. You buckled up after placing your things down, sinking into the chair. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“No problem, I just wanted to see your face firsthand when I tell you Choso would be there.” The words came out of her so nonchalantly, messing with her radio for a moment all while you stared at her blankly.
You reached for your door, but the woman was much faster; locking and starting up the car. You whipped around to glare at her, “Tsukumo! You told me he would be working.”
“Guess the client cancelled..” She mused, taking the car out of park and beginning to drive away from your house. Yuki side glanced, catching your annoyed expression which caused her to sigh, rolling her eyes. “Look, there’s gonna be quite a few people there— maybe you two won’t speak.” She shrugged, raising her eyebrows in hopes you would relax. You only sucked your teeth, leaning into the car door.
An entire year, you’ve two been away from each other. Contact dwindling into nothing after the second month of college. You two were simply busy leading different lives, you told yourself.
But again, it didn’t matter it’s not like you, missed him anyways.
The rest of the car ride was filled with random radio music and brief chatter, Yuki catching you up on things. You had avoided coming back for any holidays, knowing it would be too much for you. Luckily, she was more than happy to tell you about all the dirt she had on your shared friends.
She soon slowed infront of an unfamiliar house, putting the car into park and soon shutting it off. You glanced around, feeling your anxiety lift when you realized you didn’t see Choso’s car. Good, you could somehow melt into the crowd without him noticing you.
Silently you grabbed your phone deciding to leave your purse and charger in the glove compartment, you exited the car and shut the door behind you. Following Yuki up the driveway, porch, and into the house; music quickly overtook you, with the sweet smell of the grill and alcohol. Some people were resting in the living room or crowding the dining room table, but most were in the backyard playing football, or simply shooting the shit.
You glanced around, eyes twinkling at the familiar faces and waltzing up to them. Laughter and hugs ensued, catching up on things given you haven’t seen each other in about a year.
Your arm was locked around Shoko’s waist, talking about nonsense whilst watching Gojo and Geto play beer pong. Or more like Gojo mocking his best friend for missing such an easy shot.
It was nice seeing everyone like this, the stress of seeing your highschool sweetheart leaving rather quickly. For now you were swept away in nostalgia, enjoying being around the people you cared for.
A cup in hand, you recalled the time you walked in on your dorm mate having sex, cheeks burning from the permanent smile etched onto your features. One that faltered the moment excited voices called out to the pink-haired male entering the backyard.
“You’re finally here, Yuji!” Nobara grinned at her close friend, walking over to him; Megumi close behind. The young man apologized, talking about traffic or what not. You weren’t too concerned about that, given your eyes settled on the person walking in behind him.
Anxiety spilled into you, heart thumping against your chest as you took him in, your ex— Kamo Choso. Nothing much had changed about him, still as rugged and handsome as ever; dressed in a simple black compression shirt and baggy pants. It seemed he decided to forgo his usual hairstyle, the black tresses resting on his shoulders in a messy fashion. One that suited him perfectly.
Your breath hitched, watching his eyes zone in on your instantly. You didn’t wait for a reaction, quickly turning away and busying yourself with your phone. Your eyes did lift a little however when the man passed you, the familiar cologne burning your nostrils and causing your stomach to stir. Before you could even think you were lifting yourself from the chair and waltzing back into the house.
Luckily no one noticed or either failed to comment on your disappearance.
You found yourself heading over to the kitchen, grasping ahold of the silver fridge door and opening it; eyes scanning for some water. You murmured to yourself while continuing to look, attempting to ignore the harsh beating of your heart. You sighed the moment you finally found one, grasping it from its place on the shelf and standing up, closing the door.
Taking the cap off you lifted the bottle to your lipgloss stained lips, taking a few sips whilst leaning against the counter— relishing in the cold beverage. Your eyes closed in thought, attempting to map out a perfect plan on how to avoid Choso.
The backyard was a medium size, yet he was bound to be around Yuji. So, as long as you avoided him, Nobara, and Megumi— you could avoid Choso too! It was foolproof and perfect, nearly bringing a smile to your face.
Leaning up you pulled the bottle from your lips, twisting the cap back on and lifting yourself from the counter, turning and freezing. Breaching the threshold of the kitchen was Choso in all his glory, face turning from talking to someone to stare in front of him, eyes landing on you.
A brief silence entered the kitchen, simply taking the other in. Finally, Choso was the first to speak; “Hey, (Y/N).”
“Hey..” You spoke, annoyed by how small you sounded. You watched as he opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and shutting it closed. The man leaned against the wall beside the kitchen’s opening, opening the bottle.
You glanced around, noticing there were no many exits. You were trapped.
“How’s college?”
“Huh—“ Your head snapped back to the man, spotting his raised eyebrows, awaiting your answer. You nervously licked your lips, leaning back against the counter. “It’s uh.. been good. Classes are a little hard but, ya know.” You shrugged, feeling a heat crawl from your cheeks to the back of your ears. You dragged your gaze from the ground to him, “How’s tattooing? I heard you got your own booth, congrats.”
Choso nodded slowly, a lazy smile pulling his lips. “Yeah, thanks.” He mused softly, placing the cap back onto his water bottle. “Clientele has been good. Been going to tattoo parties and special events.. and things.”
“That’s good.” You forced a little smile, gaze faltering the moment his eyes landed on you. You felt the way they carried down your form, a familar gaze, one that always made you feel far too warm.
Another silence entered the room, both of you refusing to speak.. or leave. You told yourself time and time again you hadn’t missed Choso, that you were done; stuck on the path you’ve chosen. Yet here you were, anxiously waiting for something, anything to happen. You just.. couldn’t let go.
You gripped the bottle you held, eyes drifting back to him, zoning in on the bracelet he wore. It had red and black beads, ones all to familar to you. Starboy, was the words etched onto seven of them. You knew this, given you had your own pink and white charm bracelet labeled Stargirl.
“You still wear that?” The words left you before you could think, Choso blinking from his thoughts and glancing at his wrist. The man breathed softly, nodding soon after. “Yeah. I do.”
“Why?”
Choso went silent, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyes turned up to the ceiling. Finally he shrugged, “I don’t know.” He spoke lowly, causing you to bite your lip. Feelings you had pushed to the back of your mind began to flood within you, flashes of memories you had kept locked away following after.
You turned, rapidly blinking to eliminate the tears threatening to tread down your face. You were kidding yourself for months, thinking you hadn’t missed him. Thinking you were better then the woman in your life, able to cut a man off without a second thought. Yet your heart betrayed you in the most painful way, wanting nothing more to leap into his arms and cry.
His cologne became stronger, a gentle, familiar hand hesitantly being placed onto the one that held your bottle. Your eyes drifted to his face, spotting the concerned look he wore. That was enough for you, tears spilling and traveling down your dark brown cheeks, mouth opening but unable to speak.
But Choso knew what you wanted to say, knew how you felt. The man gently grabbed the bottle from your hand, placing it off to the side whilst his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He ignored the wet feeling that tainted his shirt, resting his chin onto your head all while continuing to hold you. Choso breathed as your shaky hands reached around, grasping his shirt as your buried your face deeper into his chest.
“I’m so sorry Choso..” You managed to whimper out, sniffling shortly after. The words escaped you again, delving into a soft mantra that caused the man to pull you even closer, softly shushing and soothing you. You stood there in his arms, feeling every bit of resolve melt away.
You missed Choso so much, it hurt. The pain rendering your whole body limp, using him for stability.
It took a moment to calm yourself down, soon pulling away, warming as the man reached over to wipe your tears. Just like he did a year ago and so many years prior.
“Why are you apologizing?.. You don’t have to—“
“I didn’t compromise. I was so stuck on myself, running at the first sign of conflict.” You spoke softly, leaning into his palm the moment held your cheek. “I want to try again.. I want to be with you again, Choso. You don’t know how much I missed you.”
The words had barely left you before his lips were covering your own, taking your breath away easily. The familiar, wonderful feeling took over your mind, hands sliding up to wrap around his neck; fingers curling into his messy hair. The moment his tongue swiped across your bottom lip you were parting them, pressing your body into him as a needy sigh escaped you. His hands traveled to the underside of your thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the counter— all while continuing the kiss.
Your legs opened wide, locking around him the moment he stepped between them. The kiss deepened, his hands resting on your ass as soft moans and hisses entering the atmosphere. Sooner then you hoped the kiss ended, pulling away as soft pants fanned on each other’s skin.
“I missed you too.. so, so much.” Choso murmured softly, gripping your plush form as if you would disappear in thin air. No other words followed, the man capturing your lips with such intensity you were tugging at his tresses. Languidly moving his lips, leaving you breathless, threatening to devour you. Your legs tightened around his form, feeling hot beneath your clothes.
His name fell from your lips in a soft whimper, pulling back and resting your head against the cabinet— gasping the moment his lips attached to your neck. Your eyebrows knitted close together, biting your lip as his teeth gently grazed your skin. “Choso, Choso.. not here— we can’t..”
While his lips didn’t stop he listened to your warning, sliding his hands underneath you and lifting you off the counter. You tightened your arms around his neck, face hot with embarrassment as he walked you from the kitchen and towards the back of the house— everyone luckily none the wiser given they were all in the backyard now.
Moving towards a random bedroom he opened the door, shutting and locking it behind him. Waltzing over to the bed he sat down, placing in you in his lap all while his lips continued to press gentle kisses against your neck, collarbone, and throat. Your hands traveled, finding the edge of his shirt and tugging on it, feeling his hands fall from your body to his shirt— peeling it off for you. Tracing his skin, feeling his sculpted sink in the moment your feathery touches reached low— gasped as Choso gently bit your neck, pushing to lay you down on the soft blankets.
“Missed this.. missed your touch, smell, how you taste..” His words drifted, catching onto the the edge of your shirt and slowly pulling off your body. Choso breathed, taking in your naked chest, leaning down. The cool, silver chain he wore tickled your skin as his lips ghosted your chest, a warm hand grabbing your breast to gently squeeze.
You gasped as his tongue glided across your areola and slowly hardening nipple, feeling his free hand flicking the button on your shorts, entering them shortly after. Choso began to suck on your hardened bud, all while his fingers breached your panties, two fingers slowly circling your clit. Your legs rose, hips rising into his touch as your head leaned back against the mattress. Soft breaths of pleasure escaped you, gripping his hair as your eyes were pinched closed.
“You missed this, pretty girl? Missed how easily I could drive you crazy from just my fingers?..” He questioned softly, fingers lowering to push into you, hissing at the way your walls clung to his digits all while his thumb busied itself, rubbing tight circles onto your hard button.
You nodded, clinging onto him as his fingers thrusted and scissored inside of you. “Yes.. fuck— yes.. Missed this so much, Choso.” You gasped, whimpers escaping you as another finger came to stretch you. Wet muffled squelches carried with each thrust and curl into your pussy, bruised lips parted as melodic moans escaped you.
The man hummed softly in enjoyment, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. Sweeter, softer then the way he was ruining you with his fingers, pushing against your gummy walls affectively leading you closer and closer to your orgasm. You whimpered in his mouth, nails dragging from his hair to his arm, feeling the muscles tense with each movement of his hand.
You legs tightened around him, pulling back to gasp, throwing a hand over your mouth the moment you came— muffling the moan that escaped you. Your mess soiled his fingers and your panties, legs shaking as you felt him slowly withdraw his fingers. You breathed into your palm, barely registering his hands latching onto your shorts and peeling them off your body, panties following.
There, his hands slid to the inside of your thighs, pushing them open to reveal the price between them. Choso moaned softly from the sight, hands rising to place his thumbs onto your soaked folds, spreading them. “So messy, princess.” The man teased softly, reaching to press his thumb against your sensitive clit, grinning at the way you whined.
“Choso, please..” You breathed, watching as his body lowered, breath hitching the moment his cool breath fanned across your wet cunt. You whimpered as his thick tongue dragged a stripe up to your clit, the tip circling the button. Your legs threatened to close, causing the man to pull you closer, legs stretched out and resting on his shoulders. Your fingers curled into his hair, crying out the moment his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and running the flat of his tongue against it.
The man pulled back for a moment, hands sliding under your ass and gripping the warm globes, lifting you a little just to smother himself in your pussy. His tongue moved wickedly, gliding up and down your slit before dipping into your warm entrance, thrusting and curling against your walls.
Your fingers clung to his hair, free hand placed against your mouth as you bit your palm, covering the desperate moans that escaped you. Your hips moved, grinding into his face as little tears built within your eyes. Slurping and lapping, enjoying every single drop that dripped from your pussy, moans escaping him. His hips ground into the blankets, chasing your orgasm with such intensity.
Your stomach clenched, arching up off the bed as a muffled swear escaped you, creaming all over his face, feeling his hands tightened as he licked you clean. Your limp body fell back against the blankets, breathing heavily as your legs shook. Soon enough he released you, rising from his spot between your legs and dragging his hands from your ass to your thighs, soothing the warm flesh.
Pushing forward he leaned over your body, hand carrying to your throat and gently grabbing it, pressing his wet lips against your own; you softly moaning at your taste. Slowly, the two of you continued to kiss, his other hand drifting to his sweats to push down his body, boxers following.
Choso pulled away, placing his forehead against your own, sliding his cock between your slit— rubbing against you slowly. Your fingers locked around his wrist, desperate pleas escaping you as your hips rose, searching for more. The man gave a breathy chuckle, smoothing his thumb against your throat. “Needy aren’t we?” The man mused, leaning to kiss between your eyes, hearing you whine.
“Need you, Choso..”
“You need me so bad, put it in yourself.” The man spoke, watching you bashfully blink at him, grinning as you attempted to shy away from his gaze. His hand rose, grabbing your wrist and carrying it between the two of you. Your much smaller hand wrapped around his cock, a hiss escaping his lips from the touch. “Go on, princess..” Choso breathed, gripping the sheets beside him as your hips rose, adjusting to line him up with your entrance before slowly sinking inside.
You never got accustomed to how Choso stretched you— not the first time and definitely not now. Your lips parted, soft moans escaping you as your hips continued to slowly rise. A choked cry escaped you however the moment he flicked his hips forward, burying himself deep inside. “Ch—choso! You..” You whimpered, walls pulsing around his heavy length, feeling him kiss your cheeks.
“Guess I’m just as needy as you baby.” Choso spoke, lip twitching into a subtle smirk. He rose, releasing your throat and resting on his hutches. Hands found the back of your knees, a steady grip as he slowly pushed them down to your chest, watching you breath sharply. Pulling his hips back until the tip was inside, Choso thrusted forward, taking in the way your body jumped and the prettiest moan escaped you.
His rhythm stared quickly, hips snapping back and forth, reaching deep inside; pushing against a spot that caused you to see stars. Your fingers balled up the sheets underneath you, moans escaping you. You had long forgotten the party going on outside, long forgotten the fact you two were separated for an entire year— your mind only focused on how his cock so easily ruined you, toes curling and anklet jingling with each thrust.
The man leaned down, folding you even more as he pressed a hand against the bed, the other curling in your hair, lifting you into a messy kiss. Tongues curling, teeth bumping into each other, eating up the other’s moans as pleasure consumed you. His chain tickled your heated skin, dragging across each time he rutted into you.
“Fuck..” Choso gasped, pulling back to breath, hand moving to gently grabbing your cheeks. “Keep your eyes right here, princess.. that’s it.. look so pretty like this.” He spoke, feeling you clench with each praise that left his mouth.
You felt so damn good, hugging him close; sucking him in each time he pulled back. Your arousal dripped down his length, a sticky ring forming at the base of his cock. Just when your hand rose to cover your mouth again, Choso was snatching your wrist, pressing it against the bed.
“No, no— waited far too fucking long to have you covering your mouth.” He hissed harshly, intertwining your fingers as he buried himself deeper, hitting your cervix.
The pain was quickly washed away with pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came around his cock— a high pitched cry escaping your throat. Tears trickled down your cheeks, other hand falling to his waist to push, and whine; the overstimulation becoming too much.
All for Choso to simply shake his head, pace quickening as he drilled you into the bed. “Know you got another in you.. come on (Y/N).”
You whimpered, head pressed into the blankets as sobs escaped you. “Cho—Choso! Hah.. Can..can’t think, fuck!”
“Then don’t.” The man chuckled in a breathy tone, leaning close as his lips ghosted your lips. “Let me fuck everything out of your mind except for how good I’m making you feel..” A groan escaped him shortly after, eyes glossing over as he felt himself getting close.
Thrusts became desperate, the two of you dissolving into pathetic fits of moans and whines, hands moving across the other’s skin to grip and mark up. Just when you felt your mind going blank you shook, convulsing as you came all over his cock again.
Choso was close behind, burying himself deep and coming; eyes pinched close as he gripped you tightly. His hips stilled, heavy pants escaping the two of you.
The man pulled out shortly after, rolling off your body and falling to your side. Choso didn’t leave you alone long, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his side, turning to place a feverish kiss to his forehead.
A blissful silence covered the silence, simply enjoying the other’s company and warm bodies. Soon though, you rose up slowly, ignoring the aching of your body as your hand found his cheek. “I love you, Choso.”
He smiled at you, thumb caressing your skin as he kissed you gently— mumbling the same on your lips. Moments passed before you two pulled away, you snuggling in his neck arm strewn across his body.
Until.. you blinked, glancing around the room. “Wait.. whose room is this?”
“It’s a guest room.” He murmured back, chuckling softly after. “Gojo might be a little pissed if he finds out about this.”
You shook your head a little, sighing softly. “Choso..”
2K notes · View notes
luminoustarlight · 7 months
Text
Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker
What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?
A jealous Anakin Skywalker.
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]
the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!
and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.
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Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.
Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 
As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.
The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 
You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 
If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    
“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.
“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 
“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 
You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 
“No.” 
“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 
“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 
You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 
“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 
You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 
Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 
And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   
You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”
“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 
You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 
“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 
 “So, get out,” you instruct. 
“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 
“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 
Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 
“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 
“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 
Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 
You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 
“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 
“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 
“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 
You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 
“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 
You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 
“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 
The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 
“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 
You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 
“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 
Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 
“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 
You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 
“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 
You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 
“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 
“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 
You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 
Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 
“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 
“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 
“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 
He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 
“Hey, man! Watch it!” 
“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 
“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 
Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 
When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 
“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 
“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 
Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 
“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 
“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 
Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 
“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 
“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  
“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 
“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 
“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 
“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 
Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 
“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 
“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 
“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 
“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 
“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 
“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 
You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”
“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 
It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 
“Nothing.” 
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 
“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 
“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 
“So what if I am?” 
You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 
“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 
Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 
“What?” 
“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.
“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 
“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 
The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 
“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 
“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 
“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.
“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 
Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 
“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 
“Huh?” 
“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 
“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  
“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 
“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 
You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 
You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 
You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 
“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 
“You love me.” 
“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”
You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 
“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 
“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 
As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 
He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 
You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  
Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 
“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 
You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 
“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 
“Is it the prettiest?” 
Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”
With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 
You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 
Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 
Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 
“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 
“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 
“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 
“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 
“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 
“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”
“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 
When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 
“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.
It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 
“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 
“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 
“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 
“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 
“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 
Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 
You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 
Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 
“Why not?” you blink innocently. 
“You know exactly why.” 
You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 
Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 
He loves you.
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remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!
(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)
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liyawritesss · 9 months
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ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ
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Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader
Type: Fic
Word Count: 1.9k
Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.
Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!
A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess
Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le
Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb
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It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.
He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).
So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.
“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”
And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.
Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.
He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.
Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.
Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.
“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”
“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”
“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”
Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.
It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”
The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.
“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”
Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.
“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”
It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.
A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.
“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”
The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.
“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”
Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”
It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.
Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.
“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.
The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”
Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.
“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.
The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”
“And when she do call?”
A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”
“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”
They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.
“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”
“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.
“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”
“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.
Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.
“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”
The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.
Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”
And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.
A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”
Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel. 
“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.
“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”
“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”
“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”
“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”
“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”
“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.
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vulpisnocturna · 7 months
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Binding Vow
This is purely self-indulgent because I was consumed with the idea of Chrollo and specifically, Yandere!Chrollo. So here it goes. This is filthy and Chrollo is unhinged. Nothing new.
Read on AO3
Part II
Part III
I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if any of them are triggering to you.
Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, dom Chrollo, coercion, dub con (I mean it), psychological manipulation, kidnapping, captivity, possessiveness, obsession, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise, slight humiliation kink
Summary: Abducted because Chrollo could not steal your Nen ability, you are ready to give in and trade your power for your freedom. But the choices Chrollo decides to lay in front of you are wholly different. One would say, the illusion of choice. You make him swear a vow to let you go as you make your choice. But one should pay close attention to the words used in a binding vow...
Word count: 7k
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One would think so many candles would be a fire hazard, to be frank. They were everywhere, on every wooden surface, on every shelf that wasn’t overcome with books of all sizes with leather spines, on the nightstands and even on the ground. It was as though the leader of the Phantom Troupe had an obsession with a certain type of aesthetic, and would not refrain from littering his surroundings with candles every time he found a new place where his gang could crash. Perhaps, he had a candle for every person he had ever killed.
Though you supposed one would lose count after a while.
If you were to ingratiate him, you knew what he would appreciate having as a gift; although who needed gifts when your profession was stealing whatever you wanted, whatever thing you had a passing whim for?
As far as you were aware, you were the last passing whim Chrollo Lucilfer had stolen. You had known of his power to steal abilities, and even though you had tried to escape when the Troupe had come to abduct you, it seemed he hadn’t been successful in stealing your power. Yet.
Your Nen power wasn’t meant to fight, really, so the possibility of forcing your way through the Troupe had been preposterous. Your ability was that of having regenerative power, to the point where you could heal fatal wounds to yourself and others. He obviously must have wanted it for himself, and you hadn’t exactly had any way of escaping his wishes.
After a month of captivity, though, you weren’t sure you could bear it for much longer. If all he wanted was your power, why not let him “borrow” it, as he so nonchalantly put it? So you could go back to your own life, so you didn’t have to be locked up in that house, so that he would let you go? Would he even let you go, if you gave him the ability? Or would he want to tie loose ends and get rid of you? You shuddered in the cold air of the bedroom you had been confined to in his absence. 
He had left you to your own devices that day for the entirety of the morning, whilst he had spent all his time with you previously. Studying you, asking you questions, letting you know between the lines that he knew who you were, who your loved ones were, where they lived. He had called you a “treasured guest” in the same sentence, with such audacity that you had been left stunned at the complete lack of morals that man had.
But then again, he also seemed to have some twisted attraction to you. They did say the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest, and because you knew of his power, he couldn’t get to your Nen ability if you did not reveal how it worked and fulfilled his conditions. In the last two weeks, he had taken to something you could only define as an attempt at seduction.
He would sit with you in the living room, inviting you to get closer to him, reassuring you he had no intentions of harming you. He would stare at you with those stormy eyes of his that seemed to burn through you like electricity, and his gaze would rake over your body like he was appraising some kind of rare, expensive object he planned to take for himself. Which he probably was.
Despite knowing who he was, despite knowing how sticky with blood his hands were, you were only a fallible human. And he was... a murderer, a manipulator, a thief; and he was also cunning, intuitive, soft-spoken, caring with you in a sick way, and the most handsome man you had ever met. Despite all of your efforts, it was not possible to deny the effect he had on you. And it was not possible to hide it from him. Observant as he was, obsessed as he was with watching your every reaction, every little twitch of your body, every time your breath faltered when he was too close, every time he commented casually how your pupils were dilating, every time his long, willowy fingers grazed your skin, he could see all of it. And all of it was a twisted game of cat and mouse to him.
Another heist, another plot to strategise and accomplish. He was always composed, always neutral, if not for his sly looks, wily smirks and piercing eyes. He always seemed to have the upper hand. It did not matter that he did not have your power, he seemed to be a patient man.
Until that day.
You had assumed he was waiting for you to break by keeping you captive, although treated with enough civility and never physically harmed, because he had not mentioned wanting your Nen power since the one time he had told you he wished to borrow it. In your mind, he was simply determined to stir the pot and then leave you to stew in it for a while, knowing at some point, your desire for freedom would overcome your attachment to your ability. Letting you run your mind wild with suppositions and conjectures that led nowhere as you tried to analyse his reasons and predict his behaviour. And it was working. You were almost done with it. If he asked you to choose between your power and your freedom, you knew what you would pick.
When he came back from whatever the hell he’d been doing that morning, his appearance was pristine. He was wearing his hair down, no headband in sight, a white shirt with the first two buttons undone and smart black trousers. All in all, he was the picture of what you could only define as sex appeal and sophistication mixed together in a heady blur of sharp eyes, chiselled, angular features and a mellow voice that still managed to sting.
He unlocked your door using a Nen ability he’d probably also stolen and closed it behind him, smiling softly at you as he appraised you.
‘Hello, darling. I hope you did not feel too lonely without my company’ he said easily, conversationally. You disliked the pet names he had started to throw at you in the last two weeks. They made it seem like there was more to this relationship than a prisoner and their warden. More he wanted. But not your ability. No. You. And it made your stomach churn every time. 
You decided to ignore him, because what else could you do? You were locked in a room with him, with no escape, and you had been held captive for a month now. What could possibly make it worse than it already was?
But you were so very naïve. You should have paid heed to his shrewd grey eyes, to the way his lips twitched as though he delighted in knowing something you didn’t, in watching you rack your brains in trying to figure him out.
You had been so naïve in thinking that he had kidnapped you and held you captive to steal your ability. After all, he could torture it out of you. 
Did he just enjoy the game? What did he want? Was there another condition that needed you to be willing to share it with him? That must have been it. He needed you to give it to him willingly, that was why he was going after your mental sanity instead of torturing it out of you.
‘You seem quite tense. Sit with me. I have a proposition for you’ he said, gracefully stepping to your side, brushing his fingers on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine just as your nose caught a whiff of his expensive cologne. His scent was just as intoxicating as he was, something masculine yet refined, a blend that made your lower stomach hot. You fought to keep eye contact as he sat on the plush loveseat by the fireplace, tapping the empty space right next to him, his eyes boring into you with curious amusement. 
You grimaced, feeling weak and dizzy as you sat down on the armchair, the only other surface available to you aside from the bed and the loveseat, which was out of the question. Chrollo’s lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glinting with interest as he rested his cheek against his fist. 
‘I have a few choices for you. I assume you are quite unsatisfied with your current predicament, therefore, I am giving you the chance to escape all the doubt that must be swarming your mind by now’ he said calmly, that little smirk still on his lips. You did not give way to hope. You did not lower your guard. Thieves did not return goods. If they got rid of them, it was after getting something else in return. So what was he playing at? What was his angle?
‘Your distrust is quite strong, dearest. You should learn to hide your emotions more, if you plan to attempt to play me. Though I must admit the thought of it is quite thrilling. So feel free to try it. Your first choice is to give me your Nen ability in exchange for the end of this predicament. Your second choice is to give yourself to me now. I trust you understand the meaning behind my words. If that is your choice, you can start by getting up and walking over here’ he said, smoothly, easily, seductively, his eyes mischievous. 
You blinked, swallowing heavily, your lips parting. He… was making you choose between your Nen ability or having sex with him in exchange for your freedom? The choice was not really that. It was an illusion of it. Perhaps he merely sought to humiliate you, because of course, the reasonable choice would be to get it over and done with, have sex with him just that once and walk away with your life and your ability intact. Who in their right mind would pick the first choice? 
He was hot, charming, attractive. So long as you could separate the part of you that knew what he was, what he did, and the shame that came with prostituting yourself to your captor, it would not be that bad. It would be over quickly, you only had to focus on his physical attributes, shut out his horrid persona.
‘You want me to prostitute myself to you’ you said, your cheeks burning with humiliation. He let out a wilful sigh. 
‘That is an uncouth appraisal of it. It is quite clear from your reactions to me that you desire me, too. Is that prostitution? More of a mutual desire, I’d wager. Rather a small price to pay to retain your power, is it not?’ he asked, smiling sweetly, smugly. You ground your jaw, your whole face feeling hot, your eyes stinging with the embarrassment of your current predicament, as he loved to call your captivity.
‘Why would I want to... have sex with someone like you? A... murderer- a thief, a kidnapper?’ you spat, repulsed, sitting rigidly in the armchair, quite the opposite picture to his nonchalant lounging. He let out a soft laugh.
‘Oh, darling. Are you pretending to have steadfast morals now?’ he crooned, voice soft and mellow. Completely unbothered by your accusations.
‘What are you trying to imply?’ you chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, a movement he followed with a hint of ravenousness in his silvery eyes.
‘Your morals seem somewhat flexible to me. You have been eating food paid with stolen money for a month, sleeping in a stolen mansion, wearing stolen clothes. I trust you were clever enough to know this from the beginning of your sojourn here’ he said casually, seeming almost enthusiastic about debunking every argument you could bring to the table. It was as though he found pleasure in discrediting your beliefs and making you vacillate. Perhaps it stroked his ego.
 ‘I had no choice about sleeping here. Should I have starved? Should I have wandered around naked for a month?’ you snapped, regretting your words immediately when you saw him look at you so intensely. As though he was undressing you himself with his eyes.
‘Well, you certainly could have tried to starve yourself. I would have admired your efforts to cling to your pride and ethical dilemma, and you would not be in this moral conundrum now if you had. You would be able to blame me for it. As to your last point, that would have certainly been a sight. Again, the choice was there. I would not have stopped you’ he said slyly, his voice getting lower and more seductive, like a caress on your spine. You bristled.
‘Those are not choices. Like these aren’t’ you pressed, and he sighed, still smiling like nothing could make him waver.
‘Are they not? You have two paths before you. Every human being is offered choices. Now, be a darling and make one. What will you choose?’ he mused. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling on the fabric of your skirt.
‘You will not steal my power if I- give my body to you now. Right?’ you asked slowly, trying to find a loophole in his words.
‘I will not. If you choose to indulge me now, I will not steal your power’ he said. You gulped. You did not want him to lose his patience and take away your opportunity. You also wanted his word that you would be let out alive and unharmed.
‘And this- this predicament will be done once I do that too. You will not kill me- nor harm me after that. I will be allowed to leave this place alive’ you said cautiously, weighing your words. He smiled.
‘Of course. In order to ease your worries, why don’t I make a vow with you? A condition, if you will. And if I break it, I will die. If this is your choice, and you want reassurance before you continue with it, I will of course be willing to ease your worries. Stand up and come closer’ he said, and you tried not to show your relief. If he was promising, there was nothing to worry about. You could do this, keep your life and your well-being, leave with your power. It was not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. You should be happy that he seemed to be attracted to you. That he was even giving you a choice in the matter.
You slowly got up, and your legs felt weak as you stepped closer to him, feeling like his gaze was burning through you. You stopped in front of him, tense like a violin string as a grimoire appeared in his hand.
‘Sit on my lap, darling’ he murmured, and you found yourself feeling all kinds of things in your body, from nerve-wracking anxiety to butterflies in your stomach to warmth in your gut and weakness in your legs. You inched closer to him, gingerly sitting sideways on his lap.
You were immediately engulfed by his enthralling cologne, and his arm wrapped around you, fingers curling on your waist to keep you in place. You squirmed, gulping when he dipped his head to breathe against your neck, making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin.
‘Your scent is intoxicating, dearest’ he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to expose the side of your face to him. You could not deny how seductive he could be, how tantalising his touch felt. But you would not be swayed from the promise he’d made.
‘The vow first’ you said somewhat nervously, and he smiled, nodding and keeping an arm around your torso as he picked up his book of stolen abilities and flicked through it, stopping in front of a binding vow.
‘Now, I vow that I will not make your Nen ability mine and steal it from you. It will remain yours. I vow I will not kill you, nor will I ask anyone else to do so for me. Should you respect the terms I have presented to you, you will leave this place unscathed within a day, with your power still in your hands. Should I fail to respect these terms, I will die on the spot. Do you accept?’ he said, and you tried to find any loophole that would allow him to kill you or steal your ability in his words, even though his fingers stroking your ribcage were distracting, but you could not find anything. You nodded.
‘I accept’ you said, and he picked up a small dagger from his pocket, shushing you when you gasped and tried to get away. He pricked his thumb, showing you the small droplet of blood that was forming on the surface of his skin.
‘I won’t hurt you. I just need a drop of your blood. Your hand, if you will, darling. Or the vow won’t work’ he said, and you gingerly let him lift one of your hands and prick your thumb. He pressed yours against his, and you could see the aura surrounding your fingers working. You relaxed a little when he threw the dagger away, supposedly letting it pierce the wood of the highest bookshelf so you could not reach it in an attempt to attack him.
He wiped your thumb and his with a handkerchief, tossing it on the table and letting the grimoire disappear.
‘I hope I was successful in easing your worries. Now, where were we?’ he murmured, round, pretty eyes heavy-lidded, lust-laden as they scanned your face. You felt as though you were in the lion’s den for the first time, or more fittingly, a small butterfly trapped in a spider web. Just waiting to be devoured.
He cupped your jaw, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leisurely taking his time in savouring you. Part of you wished he would just get it over and done with, another part of you, a shameful one, burnt at every action he took, at his stifling seduction. You might as well enjoy it and hope he was good at the very least, right? No one could blame you for it. Your survival was at stake, after all.
You stopped thinking altogether when his lips grazed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips. He was slow and sensual in all of his movements, but there was something that slipped through the façade, something possessive about the way his fingers curled around your throat, trapping you in place as his lips pressed against yours.
They were soft. Soft and smooth, warm and demanding. You could not deny the pull they had. You were coaxed into seeking them out whenever he pulled away slightly, pressing them against you again, more and more passionately each time, almost manipulating you into wanting him to get rougher.
And he did. His teeth sank into the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, pulling lightly, and his tongue was quick to soothe the sting, taking advantage of your little gasp to slip in your mouth and lay siege on your tongue. It was all akin to a game of pull and push with him. He wheedled you into letting go more and more with each time he gave you something only to take it away and revel in how you sought it again. Just as he had presented the illusion of you wanting this from him, he was now making you act on it as though you had always desired nothing more.
Until your fingers were tangled in his soft raven hair, pulling lightly at it, and you were seeking his soft lips and their taste reminiscent of rich red wine to suck on his bottom lip languidly. Until his teeth nipping at your bottom lip had you mewl in his mouth.
‘Eager, are we? How sweet’ he breathed, and you felt the trap snap, the mechanism trapping you like a helpless doe caught by pincers. All of his teasing had led to this, to making you see that you wanted him, wanted this to happen. And as much as you could deny it, your actions spoke loudly, and your body’s reaction did too. The knowledge that you were already turned on and that if he decided to reach between your thighs he would see just how responsive you were to him made the mortification burn in your chest.
You had wanted to keep your dignity and show your distaste for what was happening, but he had managed to reduce you to a docile doll just by kissing your lips. And his sardonic smile and eyes told you that you were right in that assumption.
And before you could hope to collect yourself, his mouth was on your throat, hungry but still slow, leaving you wanting more. He licked a long stripe along your pulse, making it shoot up as his fingers curled around the roots of your hair and pulled, exposing your vulnerable neck to him. You could not restrain the whimper that escaped you as he kissed and started sucking a sensitive spot between your neck and your shoulder, sure to leave a mark to remind you of what you had done, of your flexible morals, as he’d called them.
His fingers clutched your side, wandered down to your hip and the swell of your ass, grazed your thigh and snaked under your skirt to grope at the plump flesh of your backside. You were too lost in the pleasure of his mouth and tongue on your throat to truly consider your situation and who it was that was touching you so possessively, so greedily. If anything, it only stoked the fire within you.
‘Good girl’ he crooned, sending a jolt to your clit with the dirty praise. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a soft chuckle from him and a graze of his thumb over your stiff nipple. You were wearing a simple satin shirt with a flimsy bralette, and the friction of the material was torturous against your nipples.
Chrollo pulled the shirt out of your skirt, making quick work of the buttons with one hand whilst the other was still kneading your ass and his mouth was still on your throat. He slipped the garment off you, pulling away to observe you. You gulped, averting your eyes at the sight of his hungry stare, quivering as his fingers ghosted your sternum, your ribcage, the swell of your breasts.
‘You are so beautiful, darling’ he murmured, his lips softly pressing against your collarbone, his fingers deftly lowering the straps of your bralette and unhooking it. He tossed it aside, groaning softly as his hand cupped your breast, kneading it in his fingers, pinching your nipple and rolling it between thumb and index finger.
You tried to stifle a moan, to which he seemed to take offense, because he stopped and bit down hard on your shoulder, making you whine in the process.
‘I want to hear you. The more you stifle your voice, the longer I will tease you. Understood?’ he said, and you meekly nodded, only to speak up when he gave you a meaningful glance.
‘Yes’ you hissed, and he seemed pleased, because he hummed and made you arch your back so that his tongue could lick your stiff nipple and flick it. You were careful not to stifle the small whine that left your lips, and he rewarded you by sucking your nipple in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and making you cling onto his shoulders.
He bunched up your skirt up to your waist, leaving you exposed as he trailed his fingers to your inner thighs, in a silent request to spread your legs. You were not wholly aware of how swiftly you complied, you only knew that when he first cupped you through your panties, your eyelids fluttered and a soft moan poured out of you.
‘You are soaked for me, pet. Your morals do not seem to extend to your body. Try as you might, you want this, and you cannot lie to me’ he purred, dragging his fingers and pressing against your clit, holding you still when you squirmed away from his touch. You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking. He pulled your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and dipping two fingers inside you, curling them, making your head drop on his shoulder as you moaned against his neck, enveloped by the scent of his cologne.
‘That’s it. That’s my good girl. If I knew how much you liked being fingered on my lap, I would have done this much sooner. No matter. I’ll make it up to you, darling’ he breathed, voice slightly strained as though he was holding back something much more primal from taking over, but you were too dazed to take much notice of all the filth he was spewing and how he sought to humiliate you further, because his touch admittedly felt like heaven. His willowy fingers inside you kept pressing against all the right places, and you could not help but clench around them, your hips twitching into his hand every time his palm rubbed against your sensitive clit.
You were lost in the motion of his fingers as you rutted against his hand, shamelessly chasing your own high as he continued to praise you and kiss you, rewarding every sound you made with a curl of his fingers that had you melting in his arms. Until you could not take it anymore.
‘Can’t- ‘m close’ you huffed out, breathing erratic, chest heaving as his fingers pumped inside you, and he hummed, licking your neck and sucking on it again.
‘Cum for me, pet’ he urged, and your eyes scrunched up, a lewd moan ripping through you as you tensed up on his thigh, sound fading away as you came undone.
You slumped on him, breathing heavily, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he lazily fucked you through your aftershocks, your hair clinging to the back of your neck from the light sheen of sweat that had formed there.
‘Suck’ you heard, and dazed as you were, you obediently opened your mouth when he presented his fingers, sucking and licking the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself. You had to cling to him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lowering you on it and observing you as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.
There was no denying it, he was attractive. Lean but toned, with graceful abs adorning his flat stomach, jutting collarbones and well-defined biceps; with the way the candlelight danced on his pale skin, making it glow with soft orange hues, he truly looked like he might be a fantasy of sorts.
You supposed he looked like a fallen angel, as his name suggested. Like the Alexandre Cabanel painting of the fallen angel, dangerous but so tempting. It was unfair that he should also be able to make you come undone so easily, when you had vowed to not give him the satisfaction.
He smirked at you, undoing his belt, slipping it through the hooks, catching you staring first at the clear dampness on his thigh, then at the evident bulge of his erection.
You supposed he would fuck you now. If you were being honest, you had thought he wouldn’t have taken such interest in your pleasure, but now, it seemed only fitting: it was all to aid his game, to stroke his ego in humiliating you by showing you how you could not abide by your morals, how you’d moaned and whined to be touched by those blood-stained hands.
Instead, he kept his trousers on, only going so far as to unbutton them to give himself more space. He seemed... quite gifted in that area too, you thought with a grimace. Was there anything that did not favour him? It seemed that fortune graced the wicked in that nonsensical world, because he had it all.
He caged you underneath him, his hair tickling your face as he drew you into a heated kiss, his hands roving down your body, fingertips digging into your hips, tongue pressing against yours.
He was quick to unzip your skirt and slide it off you along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed whilst he still retained his power by not undressing completely.
‘You were so precious squirming on my lap, so good for me. You deserve a reward’ he crooned against your ear in that soft, melodious voice of his, making you swallow heavily as you wondered what he might do to you now.
He did not leave you guessing for long. His mouth traced your collarbone, his head lowering as he licked your sternum and left a dark lovebite above your nipple, another reminder that would bring you back to this room, to what he was doing to you for the following week. He seemed intent on marking you whenever he could, and until he had littered your chest with purple brushstrokes, until you were but a moaning mess, he refused to move on, no matter how much you tried to squirm away and whimper at some of the harshest ones on your ribcage.
He continued to kiss down your stomach, massaging your thighs, cupping your ass and lowering his head to kiss your thighs. You were rendered breathless and unable to stop thrashing and moaning as he sucked another lovebite on your inner thigh, keeping you pinned down and at his mercy. You just wanted him to bury his head between your thighs, you were close, close to begging for it, were it not for your pride. Were it not for who he was.
Fortunately, you did not need to stoop that low. His tongue flattened and dragged up your cunt, tensing and flicking your clit from underneath as he got to the top, tearing a breathless moan from you.
‘You taste so sweet’ he huffed out against your skin, blowing cold air on your clit and making you whine and scoot away. He dragged you back, a wicked light in his stormy eyes as he glanced at you and licked your clit, rolling it on his tongue.
‘F-fuck’ you breathed, your hands shooting to his hair, pulling lightly, trying to ground yourself as he continued to toy with your clit, sucking it and licking it fervently. You could not hold yourself. If he was amazing with his fingers, he was incredible with his tongue. Judging by how he seemed to have a way with words, you should not have been surprised that he was so maddeningly good at pleasuring with his tongue. It was making you lose your mind.
Even if you had tried, you would not have been able to restrain the need to keen, whine and moan every time he sucked your clit, dipped his tongue inside you or drew figures around your clit.
He was insatiable as he flung your thighs on his shoulders, seemingly unbothered with the way you trapped his head and rutted against his face. In fact, he seemed thrilled to follow the movement of your hips, giving you more and more until you were babbling and keening incoherently, unable to even speak.
‘Fuck- Ch- Chrollo...’ you whined longingly, unable to realise your slip of moaning his name in the throes of pleasure. But he heard you loud and clear, because he groaned, and his name on your lips only seemed to spur him on. In a few seconds, he was sucking on your clit, giving you more pleasure than you’d ever thought was even possible, until the torturous knot in your stomach snapped and released and you came with a cry, tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your hair tousled and messy on the pillow, your muscles tensing, toes curling and fingers clawing at the sheets.
You kept your eyes closed for a while, easing into your breathing, feeling as though your body had completely melted, feeling as though you couldn’t even move.
‘You can still take my cock, can’t you, darling? After all, I have made you feel so good. It’s only fair. Do not worry, you will not mind. You seem to love being fucked by the one you spoke of with such revulsion. It’s quite endearing, watching you struggle with your morals’ he crooned, and you opened your eyes, watching him stroke his cock a few times. It was quite long and fairly thick, slightly tilted upwards.
You were too fucked out to consider his taunting, but you knew he was right. Both mindsets could not peacefully coexist in your mind: how could you be so willing and find so much pleasure in someone like him? How could you hate him and love what he was doing to you? It might have been an involuntary physical reaction, but you should have had more resolve, more restraint. Otherwise, what did that say about you?
Chrollo lined himself between your legs, rubbing his cock along your labia, on your clit, instantly making those thoughts fade in the haze of pleasure as you let out a soft sigh and automatically tried to hook your legs around his slender hips.
He gripped your thigh, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, easily slipping inside inch by inch with how shamefully wet you were, and yet, you already felt so full, like he was stretching you to the limit. You clawed at his back, raking your nails across his shoulder blades, gasping and whimpering along with his soft moan.
‘Fuck. So tight... so wet. Such a perfect little cunt’ he huffed out, his lips parting in pleasure, dark eyebrows furrowing. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to relax your muscles to accommodate his size, clung to his shoulders for support.
He wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, continuing to push inside you, albeit slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You clenched around him, and the soft groan he let out made your stomach drop with a surge of pleasure. He bottomed out and slammed back in, tearing a broken moan from you as he set a ruthless pace, his eyes darkening with lust and the slip of his mask, hunger palpable in his every movement and the way he sought to fully claim you.
He lifted your legs higher up around his waist, his fingers tightening around your throat, not pressing on the front, leaving you room to breathe but making you even more dizzy than you already were.
His pelvis kept slapping against your clit, drawing out whines and pants from you, and with every thrust, he seemed to grow more accustomed to where you liked to be touched, because as soon as his cock pressed against your g-spot, your back arched and your head thrashed from side to side, a lewd moan echoing in the room as you clamped around him.
‘There, huh? Let me do it again, darling’ he breathed, one hand lifting both your legs and bending them at the knees, letting you rest them against his chest as he rammed into you, hitting the same spot again and again, relentlessly building the pressure inside you, making you see stars.
‘Mhh- too much... Chrollo’ you whined, trapped underneath him, feeling as though you might implode if he didn’t stop- or if he stopped, for what it was worth.
‘Moan my name again, pet. Let me hear how filthy it sounds on your lips’ he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin both enticing and dirty as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.
When you didn’t reply, suddenly aware of how you were moaning his name, reinforcing how you knew- wanted it to be him to fuck you at that moment, he let out a breathless laugh.
‘Looks as though you might need some convincing’ he said, slowing down and eventually slipping out of you, letting your legs down. You whimpered, desire clawing at your gut, your cunt clenching around nothing as you opened your bleary eyes and set them on him. He gave you a smirk, flipping you on your stomach and lifting your hips, spreading your knees with his and pushing on your lower back to make you arch into him. You lifted yourself on your elbows and heard his tongue click against his teeth condescendingly before he pushed your head against the mattress and smacked your ass with a resounding slap.
You yelped, biting down on your lower lip, mortification once again mingling with pleasure as he pushed his cock back inside you, letting out a soft groan.
‘Use your hands one more time and I will tie them up behind your back. It will feel better like this. For me- and for you’ he said, fisting your hair and gripping your hip, starting to pound into you from behind once again.
It did feel better like this. Deeper. Unbearable. He stimulated your clit with every thrust, the tip of his cock kept pressing against your cervix, and you did not know if you could bear it much longer.
You found the bridge of your nose damp with tears, and struggled to recognise your own voice in the filthy moans you were letting out. It was humiliating and it was impossibly pleasurable, and the mix was somewhat addicting, tainting. It was ruining every shred of sanity left in your brain.
Until he got what he wanted. Because it seemed as though he always did. He could steal anything, including his name from your lips said with such want and bliss that had you not been fucked stupid, you would have wanted to die.
‘Ahh- Chr- Chrollo! Fuck. Gonna cum’ you screamed, sobbing, clenching around him, getting even closer to a mind-shattering orgasm with every moan and groan he graced you with.
‘Good girl. My girl. Mine. You love this, mh? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how badly you want to cum all over my cock’ he urged, voice possessive and low, and you could not stop yourself, could not do anything but acquiesce, because you needed- needed to cum.
‘Yes! Please. Please let me cum. Please. Need it so bad’ you whined, sobbed even, desperate for reprieve, hoping he would have mercy on you, hoping he would let you finish. His fingers reached under you to rub at your clit, and you could hardly contain a sob of wild pleasure and the jolt of your hips.
‘Since you asked so nicely. Go on, pet, cum for me’ he huffed out, still thrusting inside you at that unrelenting pace, and as though he had power over your own body, you felt the release hit you like a wave of overwhelming pleasure that made your vision white and your ears fill with static.
He was quick to cum with a breathy moan as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, holding you tightly as he spilled inside you. He continued to push in and out slowly, until you stopped throbbing and squeezing around him.
‘Fuck’ he breathed, letting you collapse on the bed and doing the same next to you. You both stayed silent for a minute or two, catching your breath, feeling the cool air on your feverish skin.
‘Let me clean you up, darling’ he said, and you didn’t have the strength to object as he got up and walked away, the sound of his footsteps quiet as you kept your eyes closed until he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel, his trousers back on, but still shirtless. He wiped your inner thighs gently, with more care than you wanted to admit someone like him could be capable of, and carefully lifted you up so you could drink the water he’d brought you.
You took small gulps, finding it felt amazing trickling down your dry, raw throat after all that crying and screaming. He only put the glass on the nightstand when you had finished it all.
‘Thanks’ you said absent-mindedly, your mind slowly coming back to you in coherent thoughts as you attempted to cover yourself with the duvet. He gave you a languid smile, tucking your hair away from your face and lying next to you.
But it was finally over now. You could leave. Your deal had revealed itself to be better than you wanted to admit, but now, you were finally free. You could put this all behind you.
You tried to get up and gather your clothes, but your body felt like a ragdoll. He had really done a number on you.
‘Careful, dearest. You should wait a little’ he said, smiling at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. You let out a shuddering breath.
‘Want to get... my clothes, and leave’ you said, getting up and hastily putting on your clothes, feeling a little dizzy. You walked back towards the bed, retrieving your underwear and your skirt, putting them on, almost falling were it not for his arms catching you and holding you still.
You felt weird. It had surely been intense, but so intense that your vision was slowly darkening around the edges and your arms and legs felt as heavy as lead?
He pulled you on his lap, and you protested weakly when he started to stroke your hair and kissed your forehead.
‘No- you said I would be free after this. Let me leave’ you slurred, and he shushed you, tenderly stroking your back in soothing gestures.
‘Oh, darling, I never said you would be free’ he said softly, still holding you. You blinked, confused, his face blurry as you stared at him.
‘You said- I’d be leaving this place- with my power... un...scathed within... a day. What d’you do to me?’ your words were garbled together, slurred like you were drunk. And you felt so heavy and tired.
‘I put a few sleeping pills in the water I gave you. Nothing that will harm you, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I don’t need to steal your power if I keep you. You will leave unscathed, but I never said you would leave alone. You should really pay more attention to the words of a vow, my love’ he said, stroking your hair, his soft voice lulling you into sleep despite how horrified you were in your mind. He had tricked you. Had no plans of freeing you. You hadn’t considered he might keep you. Hadn’t considered the depth of his obsession with you. Hadn’t considered there was more than one reason why he had kept you captive.
‘I cannot be parted from you, my love. Your place is by my side. Now close your eyes. Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us’ he said gently, soothingly. And you could not help but do as he said, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, your thoughts muddying and fading away along with your consciousness.
Part II here
Part III here
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Part 2 of this cuz I wrote too much 🦦 this is another long one with possible ooc-ness but it’s a fanfic that’s not meant to be taken seriously.
Taglist: @miraculous-panic (the og asker) and @spidernuggets @millyhelp @lanxsee @jaysgirlx @gloriousdreamerland
Previously…
*knock, knock, knock*
‘Are you sure this is going to work?’ Jason said as he looked back at Dick and Damian, who was forced by the older male into helping their brother with his relationship problem, perched on the fire escape of your apartment.
Dick sighed, putting his hands on his hips. ‘Do you want to save your relationship or not?’
‘Of course I do!’ Jason snapped, not liking the accusation that he didn’t care enough about you to save something he was indirectly ruining with his secrecy; He just didn’t like the danger he could potentially drag you into just for knowing who’s under the RedHood, after all he wasn’t really a well liked figure amongst certain powerful criminals in Gotham.
‘Then you shouldn’t hesitate in making things right with them.’ Damian pipes up, much to Jason and Dick’s surprise as both of them were certain that he could’ve cared less for things he’d consider as trivial, though then again Damian had always been full of surprises and this was only one of them. ‘While your reasonings for not telling y/n are justified but in doing so. However you’ve not only made them feel as though they’re not trustworthy, but also insecure to the point that they’ve began suspecting you of cheating on them.’ Jason’s eyes downcast to the helmet within his hands and tightening his grip on it as though it had been the root of all his problems. ‘The only way to rectify this misstep is by taking the risk of danger to secure the things you love most, for there is not one life lived that didn’t come with it’s risks.’
‘Damian’s right Jason.’ Dick said softly as he helplessly watched the conflicting emotions run through his eyes and wanted nothing more then to help his brother avoid a broken heart. He had heard you from the times Jason accidentally slipped up during patrols together and immeditly knew the kind of hold you had over Jason, the type where Jason wishes he wasn’t made a vigilante so that you two could live happily together without fear of one day finding that the other was taken away.
‘I know.’ Jason said as he looked longingly at the closed bedroom window that he knew you were on the opposite side of, probably staring at the same window while reaching for his knife that he’d given you for protection, ghosting his fingers against the empty knife sheath strapped at his thigh. ‘And that’s why I need to go through with this…no matter what happens next.’ He then reached a hand to knock on the window again and taking a step back afterwards to wait for you to open it.
A couple minutes later and nothing. Not even the ruffle of a curtain and Jason’s mind naturally made him think the worst as his breath hitches in his throat and he feels a tightening in his chest. ‘They’re not answering.’ He said.
‘Give it some more time, no sane person is going to open their window to a potential stranger.’ Dick reasoned.
‘They’re not answering.’ Jason said again as he was fighting every urge to bust down the window but before he could even act on it, Damian grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him back.
‘It’s only been five minutes, are you that paranoid that in that time someone could’ve possibly kidnapped them?’ He hissed but Jason had stopped listening to reason and tugged his arm out of Damian’s hold and puts his helmet back on and charges towards the window anyway, firmly set on the idea that somethings wrong, much to Dick and Damian’s dismay.
‘JASON NO!’
‘Tt. Idiot.’
Everything that happened afterwards was a blur to Jason from the moment he broke through the window of his own apartment, from the sound of glass shattering, a horrified scream and the sounds of Damian and Dick calling after him didn’t register to Jason, that was until he saw a frightened you backed up into a corner of the room, knife held out in front of you in the instance where you needed to defend yourself as tears collected in the corners of your eyes.
‘Wh-what are you doing in my apartment? I didn’t- I haven’t done anything wrong as far as I’m aware.’ You said, scared out of your wits as to why THE REDHOOD was in yours and Jason’s bedroom, guns in each of his hands as he looked at you in utter silence -which was fucking terrifying- and all you wanted to do was call out for Jason because how the fuck did RedHood know where you live if he didn’t get that information straight from Jason himself. Upon realising this fact, your fright became anger as then pushed yourself off of the wall and stood across the vigilante. ‘Jason.’ You muttered under your breath as the anger boiled your blood. ‘What did you do to MY Jason?!’ You shouted, not thinking about the consequences of fighting someone who was the better fighter out of the two of you, only caring about what had happened to Jason for RedHood to be here.
‘Woah! There’s been a misunderstanding-‘ Dick tried to calm the situation from escalation but he must’ve forgotten that he was in his NightWing attire as you looked at him with just as much fury in your eyes as there was fear and dread. ‘NightWing?’ You asked, eyes darting between the two quite frankly intimidating men, your thoughts going a million miles an hour. ‘What the fuck is going on?!’ You exclaimed. ‘If you put the knife down and stop coming to conclusions then maybe you’ll get your answers.’ Damian said from the window, genuinely done with the whole thing and wants to go home to spend quality time with Titus and Alfred the cat.
‘Fine.’ You, both mentally and emotionally exhausted, then drop the knife and sit on the bed to massage your temples. Dick then sits beside you whilst being respectful of your need for space during this time as Damian and Jason stay standing. ‘As I said before, there has been a major misunderstanding here.’ He begins. ‘Jason is fine, more than fine actually, but he’s been meaning to tell you something really important.’ He explains but your brows were immeditly raised at his as your eyes moved between him, Robin and RedHood, one of whom hadn’t spoken in a long while since bursting into your bedroom. ‘And I’m supposed to believe that sent all of you to tell me something he could’ve told me himself.’ You said, unable to find the logistics of this. ‘Isn’t that a little…excessive?’
Dick smiled, glad that you’ve finally calmed down but was starting to grow worried at Jason’s prolonged silence, he dared to glance his way and sees Jason getting ready to remove his helmet and quickly glanced back to you. ‘Then how about we let him tell you instead?’ He says and again you were left confused by this until he gave you a gesture to look at RedHood and per following his instructions, you sat there in stunned silence as RedHood removed his helmet, revealing the mop of dark hair with it’s streak of white you could easily recognise anywhere and a familiar set of eyes. ‘Hi chipmunk.’ Jason said, holding his helmet to his hip.
You wordlessly got up from the bed and moved towards Jason -who was internally screaming at how easily all this could go wrong for him- and held his face in your hands, running your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks as he melted into your touch like he always did. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Was all you said, too tired to be mad at anything anymore while also being happy at the fact that Jason was in fact not seeing anyone begin you back, but were conflicted about him being a vigilante as infamous as the RedHood on top of all that; It only proved to leave you even more exhausted then you already were if that was possible.
‘I just wanted to keep you safe.’ He said desperately as he held your hands to his face as his eyes pleaded with you to understand. ‘I’m not exactly well liked on the streets of Gotham and I didn’t want you to be caught in the cross fire.’
‘So all this time you weren’t meeting up with anyone behind my back?’ You said unproved and Jason looked at you as though you just grew a second head. ‘What?’ He asked, taken aback. ‘Meeting someone behind your back- no, why would i ever do something like that I love you.’ Jason then stopped when he realised what he just said. It also didn’t help that he was reminded of his brothers also being in the room, especially when he could practically hear Dick’s gasp of surprise and Damian’s mutter of it was about time Jason admitted that he loved you. Was he that obvious? He’ll have to ask them later but for now, you were all that matter and the fact that you were okay and safe was all Jason could ever ask for.
‘You love me?’ You asked.
‘More than anything.’ Jason replied. ‘Why would I look elsewhere when everything I could’ve ever want and have is standing right in front of me, even if they did try to hold me at knifepoint in the cutest pyjama set I’ve ever seen.’ He adds, making you laugh and rest your head against his chest to hide your smile.
‘I love you too you doofus,’ once again Jason could hear Dick gasp but that didn’t stop you from continuing. ‘I have for a long while and have been trying to find the perfect moment to say it, which is why I planned a movie night.’ You explained and Jason felt like a dickhead for ruining your plan but he couldn’t say he regretted this being how he found out; It was messy but it was perfect, just like the both of you.
‘I’m sorry for ruining everything chipmunk.’ He muttered against your head as he pressed a couple a kisses there.
‘Don’t be,’ you said, pressing your head further into his lips for more kisses, ‘despite giving me the fright of a lifetime, i wouldn’t change this for anything.’
You and Jason stayed like this for a while, not caring about anything outside the both of you, not even the smashed window that was causing the room to grow cold but that only gave you the perfect excuse to stay close to your six foot something body heater by the name of Jason Todd.
‘Can we go home now.’ Damian said as Dick stood up from the bed, smiling at the both of you being happy now that everything had been resolved before looking over at Damian and chuckles. ‘Alright, alright we’re leaving, happy now?’ He said as the pair of them leave through the busted window and stood out on the fire escape for a couple of moments before disappearing into the night, when they realised that they had glossed over one thing; your bedroom widow that was shattered to bits.
‘Father will have it fixed.’ Damian answered self assuringly.
‘How can you be so sure?’ Dick asked.
‘Don’t think too hard about the intricacies of it Grayson. Just know that I’ll have it dealt with.’ Damian replied and within the next day your window was mysteriously fixed, but the glass was itself was top quality and would’ve costed you an arm and a leg but was merely chump change for a certain rich billionaire.
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azullumi · 10 months
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“everyone adores you, at least i do” ; prince kamisato ayato
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summary — it was a political marriage between two people for the sake of peace, it was a sacrifice you were willing to take, a role that you must fulfill, however, ayato seems to have different plans, different feelings ; alternatively, the prince you were politically wedded to is pining over you.
pairing — prince!kamisato ayato w/ fem!reader
tags — fluff, pining, sweet and gentle ayato, not proofread, alternative universe ; headcanon
words — 900+
note — i feel like he’ll be the type to say “where’s my wife?” like those books do
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It was a marriage to solidify the relationship between two kingdoms, you were merely a princess sold for the freedom of your land, there was nothing more to it.
So when you first met him for the sake of introduction and familiarity before he became your husband, there was nothing but silence in between you two, only a small conversation that would fall apart before being picked up with a different topic as you walked around with him. But no one is to blame here, you were strangers to each other (maybe) and what you two had during that time wasn’t awkwardness, it was just tranquility.
Although it did go on until the first night of such a significant event, the wedding,—the night of passion, or whatever the servants had told you—as it was nothing but stillness. He told you that it’s best to just sleep instead and so nothing happened. He simply laid there on one side of the bed while you were on the other, trying to get rid of your thoughts: it’s alright, you two were strangers that were practically forced into a couple and to bed together.
But, oh, if only you knew the thoughts that raced inside his head during that night as he laid there beside you, if only you knew how much he yearns for you, how much he wants to touch you. He wants you but he could not act on his desires as he was too afraid, afraid that he might scare you, that he might accidentally hurt you in the process. Ayato is a brave and confident person but in front of you, he was nothing, stripped of his title as a noble prince, he was nothing but a man who fell in love with a princess from what once was their rival kingdom.
“Your highness, why—“
“Ayato,” he corrects you with a small smile on his face, there was no malice or sign of annoyance in his tone, just gentleness and warmth, “We’re already husband and wife, we have no need for such formalities. Unless you're still not comfortable or used to it, do not fret, I am not pressuring you.”
He was letting you go at your own pace, to tread on the path that is comfortable for you without anyone ever pressuring you, you can take your time—it was hard to trust and find comfort in a place full of strangers. especially more so when it’s a place that your kingdom once considered as the enemy—, he’s not rushing you, nobody is, and if ever there is someone doing so, he’ll get rid of them. All he wants is for you to feel safe and warm, that you’ll soon grow to trust him; he only wishes that his touch will soon become your peace and this place will soon become your home.
Until you are ready, until you are willing to accept him, he’s not going to make a move on you but he will be there by your side—just like how he sleeps beside you and will be willing to comfort if ever you were to wake up from a nightmare or have a hard time falling asleep—, until then, he’ll settle on a distance.
And though you might think he might have gone crazy—just like what some of the people in the palace have murmured to each other about him—but maybe he actually has, he wakes up and he immediately thinks of you, the corners of his mind and the edges of his thoughts simply form into you, ever since you came into his life, it was all just you—as if he never existed for his own, as if his soul was meant to spell out the letters of your name. He built a garden made out of your favorite flowers, a library filled with books you love to read, servants and maids that swore their loyalty to you, and everything. He professed his love by providing you with such things even if you were to never realize his feelings.
He likes waking up first before you do, loves being able to see and admire the lines etched and carved on your skin, to see and intertwine himself the rhythm of your breath, and watch the way you tangle yourself in the sheets—and he wishes it was all him, the honeyed light passing through the window spilling on you and casting a soft ethereal glow on the bane of your existence. He likes taking walks with you when he needs a break from all his work, likes eating or resting with you, and especially likes going past the walls of the palace to head to the bustling streets and the busy market together with you, pretending that you were simply just people; the scolding you’ll get with him when you two return after escaping is worth it.
He looks at you, in your sleep, in your waking hours, in his dreams, and he loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, and it terrifies him how much he would do for you, what he would do for you. You can say anything and he will not abandon you, no matter what you think, no matter what the words that will come out of your mouth, he’ll love you just the same and perhaps more.
“Because I love you in ways more than one.” He kneels in front of you, eyes with longing and affection in it looking up to you, his gaze warm as well as the smile on his face. He brought your hand that he took hold with his own to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles, he holds you as if you’re the most fragile thing in the universe. Darling, dearest, beloved, he was yours as well as that you were his.
How is it that he holds such feelings for you so much so that it’s spilling into his hands? A complicated question for some but for him, it was easy to answer: it’s simply because you’re loveable. You’re not hard to cherish, to love, you’re simply human in a way that should be treated as one, not because you’re a princess and his wife. He loves you as if he’s meant to do so.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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Like There's No Tomorrow
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.
On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.
In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.
“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”
“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”
“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”
“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”
Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.
Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.
You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.
Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.
“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”
He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.
Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?
Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.
But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.
“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”
Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.
Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.
Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?
The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.
“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.
You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.
He was your one bright spot in the building.
With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.
You owed yourself that.
“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”
“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.
You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.
But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.
So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”
You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.
What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.
Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.
He was yours.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”
But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?
He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.
You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?
“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”
“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”
Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”
“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”
You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?
“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”
“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”
The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?
“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”
“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.
“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”
Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”
He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.
“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”
“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.
“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”
“What about work for you?”
“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.
Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.
“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”
“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”
You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”
“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”
“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.
“Yeah, I do.”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.
“Why not?” He shrugged.
“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.
Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.
At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?
When did you start thinking so cynically?
“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”
Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”
Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?
You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.
“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”
“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.
How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?
Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”
Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”
“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”
Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.
Why not do something impulsive?
Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?
“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”
“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”
The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”
Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”
“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”
“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”
“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”
“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’
“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”
“I won’t forget it,” he promised.
“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”
It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.
“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”
Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”
He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”
“I trust you.”
You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.
You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.
And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.
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So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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milktei · 1 year
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Hold me Tight
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Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader
Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.
Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited
Requests: Open
a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!
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A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.
Being married it should be an easy ask
How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.
Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?
He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.
He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.
He really had nothing to gain from it either.
It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.
There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.
Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.
There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.
The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.
Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.
You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.
Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.
Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.
While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.
Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.
“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.
That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.
A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”
So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.
You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.
Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.
The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.
That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.
It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.
you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.
You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.
Or rather who you were married to.
“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”
The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”
The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”
Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”
My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.
A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.
The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”
You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”
You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.
———
Perhaps you should have stayed in town.
You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.
The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.
You should have grabbed your umbrella
It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.
Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood
Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.
Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.
Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.
“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.
Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.
Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.
You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.
Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.
As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.
The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.
As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.
“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.
Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.
Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”
Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.
“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.
A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”
“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”
That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.
You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.
You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.
A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.
“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”
You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.
The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.
“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”
The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.
Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.
He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.
You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.
Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.
A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.
“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”
You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”
Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”
Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.
“Well?” He urged after a moment
“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.
He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”
Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.
“Are we really?”
His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.
This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.
“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“
“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation
You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.
“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”
You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.
“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”
It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.
“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.
“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.
You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”
Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”
He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.
You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”
“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.
Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.
Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”
You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”
“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”
“Hey!”
Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.
“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”
Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”
You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”
“Really digging deep are we y/n?”
“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”
Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.
Except you were already living together and married.
One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.
It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.
“So why me?”
Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.
“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”
Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”
“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.
Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”
You stared at him blankly.
“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”
The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”
You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”
Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”
You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”
Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”
Your eyes widened “I did?”
He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.
“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”
You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”
Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”
“So it was only my looks” you teased
he sighed exasperated “Of course not”
You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”
“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”
You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.
“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.
“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”
Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”
He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”
You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”
After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.
He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.
“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”
You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”
There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”
As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,
“Ayato.”
He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”
He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”
“Oh please we’re already married.”
He laughed and his smile softened.
Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.
You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.
A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.
Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”
Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to let go.”
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satoruin · 1 year
Text
➣ a new year’s kiss
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pairing: ayato, albedo, alhaitham, aether x gn!reader
summary: the countdown begins and you unexpectedly have someone asking to be your new years kiss
notes from lee: this one goes out to all my introverts and people that don’t like parties. i don’t either but there’s no new years kiss waiting for anyone sitting in bed at midnight yk + idk what even transpired while i was writing this and idk if it’s ooc since it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so enjoy? AND wishing for all of you to have an amazing new year! i’m super thankful for all of y’all to be supporting me on this blog and yeah! love you guys immensely 🫶
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it’s not normal for you to be at a party new year’s eve but your friend has insisted. saying “new year, new you!” and promptly whisking you away to some party.
you know nobody and the whole party seems to drag on for far too long. the countdown is closing in on zero and most hold their partners close in anticipation for the new year’s kiss tradition.
you know that there probably wasn’t anyone here that would ask to kiss you and you’re much too shy to ask someone yourself. but unknown to you, there’s someone making their way across the room right now, determined to ask you for a kiss.
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ayato:
you stick to the wall with a cup in hand as the countdown starts. you expect nothing because that’s how it’s been every other year, but unexpectedly there’s someone cupping your cheek
“do you mind?” he asks and you shake your head no and as the tv and people scream happy new year, the stranger places his lips on yours
it’s a short peck but you enjoy it nonetheless. you look up at the man who had just kissed you to find it’s kamisato ayato
he’s extremely gorgeous and the frequent topic of discussion amongst your friends for his looks and money
you think you’ve maybe had a class or two with him but nothing to ever warrant getting to know him
“thank you for making my new year memorable…” he trails off as a way to ask for your name
“on contrary i should be saying thank you. i’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you or should i say kiss you?” you laugh at your own joke awkwardly and you’re ready for him to leave and go back to his friends at this point
however, he continues to talk to you, “you know, there’s a common saying about sharing a kiss on new years. it’s something along the lines of having a good relationship with the person you kiss.”
he pauses to take note of your reaction before continuing “so i believe that means we will have a good relationship ahead of us, that is if you will go out with me?”
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albedo:
you’ve been sitting out on the patio waiting for your friend to be finished because archons knows you were done the moment you got here
parties are not for you. they are overwhelming and teeming with people you don’t know and awkward social situations. you wish you had stayed at home and celebrated by yourself, if at all
it’s cold outside and unfortunately you left your coat inside but it’s too much work to go in and come back out. so you sit with your knees tucked into your chest and wait
that is until someone drapes a coat around your shoulders. “you looked cold. sorry if i’m overstepping your boundaries.”
you turn to say thank you, but the words don’t seem to come out as you can only focus on how pretty the boy in front of you is
“it seems like parties aren’t your thing either. i’m albedo by the way. i’m not fond of making friends at these kind of things but…” he trails off unsure of how to finish his thoughts
“no, no i get it! you never know what types of people attend these things.” you laugh awkwardly before sticking out a hand for him to shake and introducing yourself, “i’m (y/n). and thanks for the jacket but i would feel terrible if you were cold too.”
you shrug off the jacket and fold it over your arm for him to take but he just smiles and pushes it back your way. “i don’t get too cold actually. i just take it so my friends don’t worry and to offer to pretty people.”
you laugh in disbelief but don’t say anything. you put the coat on again, thankful that it is providing some warmth
you look inside as you hear people start to countdown and steal a glance towards albedo
you would ask him the question but you’ve just met him and you know you’re not bold enough to ask even if he had been flirting with you just a moment ago
luckily you don’t have to do anything. albedo reaches out to find your hand, “may i have the honor of being your new year’s kiss?”
normally you would say no, he’s a stranger after all, but even being at a part was not normal for you, so you nod
he leans down to where you sit and puts his face close to yours waiting until the countdown reaches zero. and when it does, his warm lips meet yours and you can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses you
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alhaitham:
you’re in the kitchen when he approaches you. he looks over at something before saying anything and you’re almost tempted to just leave
“hi. i’ll get straight to the point. i made a bet with my annoying roommate that involves kissing you at midnight. i’m getting $500, a night of peace, and a bottle of wine. if you agree, you get half. if not no worries, i’ll find another way to kick him out.”
you almost want to laugh at the comical situation you’re in. there’s no way this is real, a good looking guy offering to pay to kiss you? “is he that bad? and i don’t know you, what makes you think i would agree?”
he raises his eyebrows and smirks, “i’m alhaitham. i attend the sumeru academia and am double majoring in ancient history and linguistics. i like to read and i work at the library on campus. that should be sufficient, no?”
he ends his little summary of himself and looks back once again and this time you follow his gaze. he’s looking at the tv to see how much time is left in the countdown.
you only shake your head at him, with a slight smile. what harm was there in letting an attractive guy kiss you and then pay you for it?
“i expect my pay by the end of the week.” you tell him and his eyes seem to light up if only slightly at your agreement
when the countdown reaches zero he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours. his lips are warm and pull away quicker than you would like.
you can definitely hear a mortified “NO” over the shouts of everyone else and alhaitham only laughs instead of searching for the voice
he takes out his phone and hands it to you so you can give him your number and you do the same. “$250 and a date, yeah?”
you tilt your head in confusion, a date? he said nothing about that earlier
he smirks once again and explains, “i did say half of my earnings and half a bottle of wine shouldn’t be enjoyed alone.”
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aether:
he’s knelt on the floor when you almost step on him, either knocked down or looking for something, but you try not to question it
“oh my archons, i’m so sorry! i didn’t notice you, um is there anything i can help you with.” you extend a hand out for him to grab and help pull him up and he takes it
“sorry, i’m looking for my sister. i didn’t notice where she went and was just a bit worried about her.” he reaches his hand back to scratch at the back of his head.
he introduces himself and then describes what she looks like and as you turn to help him look he grabs your wrist and turns you back around
“i’m sorry, that was a lie. she’s standing with the rest of my friends who told me i need to come over here and talk to you. they’re sick of listening to me talk about how pretty you are.” he sighs and is flushed red at the confession and moves his gaze to the floor
your eyes widen and you don’t even know what to say. “seriously? good thing i think you’re pretty cute too.” you smile and he picks up his head
he looks anywhere but you and is still flushed. “would you mind if i kissed you at midnight then?”
you just shake your head at the shy boy, but you still agree. when the countdown reaches zero his kisses you and you can hear his friends chant his name and cheering him on
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peaches-creek · 4 months
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Jason never, in a million years, thought he would want children, but here he was. You both were sitting in the waiting room of your OBGYN waiting to find out the gender of your baby, his baby. When you had told him that you thought that you were pregnant, an ache settled in his chest. He wasn’t upset or had any regrets, this wasn’t planned but you had been married for 3 years now, its not like he was planning on it just being the two of you for the rest of your lives. He was just worried. About the usual things a new parent should be worried about. Like the general health of the mother and the baby, if they were going to be prepared enough, and if he was going to be a good father. Which are all normal worries to have. But the reason they are different is because we are talking about Jason. Jason will worry himself to death over stuff like this, especially when it involves you.
“Mrs. Todd?” The nurse calls. Everything after that was a blur to Jason, who was riddled with anxiety. He notices them asking you all the questions that they typically ask at these types of appointments. He notices the way you smile, it relives him, only a little. The last thing he notices is them handing you a gown to wear so they can complete the rest of your appointment.
“Jason you haven’t said anything, are you alright?” You sweetly coax him out of his own head.
“Yea, I’m alright just,” he pauses, finding the right words, “just nervous, about the baby.”
“I know you are, and that’s normal. You are right to feel nervous, but I’m okay, the baby is okay, you are okay.” You assure.
“I understand all of that, but I’m mostly worried about me.” He says. You raise an eyebrow.
“Not like that, i am very worried about you,” he starts, “I’m just worried that I’m not gonna be a good dad, that m’gonna mess stuff up.”
“I’m not worried about anything like that at all, especially when it comes to you.” You say.
“You’re not?” He questions.
“Why would I? I have seen the way you are with Mar’i, the way you are with Damian. I’ve seen the way you are with people.” You persuade. You know he’s not in agreement.
“Jason, if you think for a second that you aren’t a good person, your pregnant wife is going to choke you out. She’s also gonna choke you out if you don’t help her get into this gown.”
“Oh right.” He stands, jumping to his feet to help you.
You don’t understand why he’s so harsh on himself, he has been nothing but attentive since you guys found out about the baby. You’ve barely lifted a finger in weeks. He has held your hair back while you threw up the delicious pancakes he made for you every morning. He just about ran to the store every time you had a craving. He made sure you were as comfortable as humanly possible. You wish he saw himself the way you did.
Once your gown was on right, he helped you back onto the table. Your small bump barely visible through the thick fabric. He can’t help but place a hand on it.
“So small.” He says.
“Yes, very small,” you say as you place your hand on his, “not for much longer.”
“True.” Is all he says.
The doctor knocks on the door, then enters. Everything after that became a blur again, Jason is absolutely vibrating with anxiety, and excitement. He has been excited about this, how can he not? Whenever he imagines your child, he sees a child with his black hair, your nose, his smile, and god, he hopes they have your eyes. He envisions their beautiful face and can’t help but smile. He has always wondered about that, ever since he realized he loved you.
When he sees the doctor lift your gown, that’s when he taps back in, holding your hand firmly so that you know he’s there, aware and with you. You turn to him and smile, a smile that always throws his worries out the window, and it does exactly that. The doctor puts the gel on your stomach and waves the wand around, chatting to you about how you’ve been feeling.
“How would you guys like to know the gender today?” She asks.
You turn to him, smiling.
“You ready?”
“Of course.”
She waves the wand around a few more times, pressing into the side of your stomach.
“Well would you look at that, a beautiful baby girl.” She smiles.
Jason’s head snaps to yours, just as yours had. He begins to chuckle, his eyes getting all watery, just as yours did.
“A girl.” Is a Jason says.
“Our Girl.”
As you finish up at the doctors, you can’t help but admire him, his face went from crisis to wonder. You can only imagine the thoughts running through his head. You usurp to ask the same question, but in a place of worry. You knew he was so hard on himself and you knew there was only so much reassurance you could give him.
He helps you back into his truck, when you finally were done asking questions, though they were all necessary, it did take up some time.
“Wanna get Chinese take-out?” He asks, reading your mind.
“You know the answer to that.”
As you pull your phone out to call in your order, he starts to think. He thinks back on your conversation earlier, finally trying to convince himself that he will be a good father to his kid - his daughter.
He thinks of Mar’i, his niece. He remembers when she was about 5 months old, her babysitter canceled last minute, and he had about 15 IOU’s from Dick, so he was the last minute babysitter. He remembers Kori showing him how to change diapers on the fly, showing him how to bottle feed, and then promptly left. He remembers being so scared at first, holding this tiny little breakable thing, but after the first hour? He was fine, he even read to a few chapters of Little Women to her. Sure, her diapers were the most record breaking shits he has ever seen, but it’s nothing he can’t manage.
He thinks of Damian next, the little shit. He remembers when he first met him, the kid tried to stab him. But after a while, he started to figure Damian out, like the games he likes, his hobbies, weaknesses. He remembers finding a three-legged kitten in an alley one day, and immediately knew who would take good care of the little fellow. He fondly thinks back at the face on Damian when he pulled the fur-ball out of his jacket.
He remembers the little girl he saved a few weeks back, how she clung on to him. He gave her words or reassurance, telling her that he’s bringing ear her to her mommy right now, and that she’s okay.
So, Jason determines, that once again you are right. He will be a good Dad. It doesn’t do any good to be so worried about something that may or may not happen.
“Y’know honey?” He says.
“What?”
“You’re right. Everything will be okay.”
“I’m so glad you think so Jay.”
It’s silent for a minute. A sweet silence of two parents who got good news.
“Who should we tell first?” He asks.
“I say Damian, he owes me 15 bucks.”
“Roy owes me 50.” He chuckles.
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