#(you know… *tucks in hair behind ear*….. if you’d want to be drawn with yo pokemon…. i gotta commission thing yanno…. *cough*)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
iced-souls · 3 months ago
Text
Ok we got the other one oop—
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hehehe i tried doin the poke-style shading and i very much enjoy how it came out hehehehehe
Some close-ups under the cut!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
GAHDUGWUYhgd LOOKIT ME GUYS OMGGGGG
5 notes · View notes
sp00kymulderr · 1 year ago
Text
embers
Pairing: Ezra x afab reader (no pronouns)
Warnings: 18+, pwp, fingering (f receiving), ezra being ezra, a lot of sweat, reader is nicknamed stardust but no gendered language as far as I am aware, this was originally written with a plus size reader in mind and there is one description of body type (soft stomach) but nothing major beyond that
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: It's too hot to sleep. Ezra helps you with your frustration, but only makes things hotter.
A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s hot. Too hot. The kind of sticky hot that fills the air and makes it hard to breath, no cool breeze of comfort as it melts the brain until you can’t think straight.
It sticks to your body. The heat causing discomforting damp across you, in the places where flesh meets flesh. You groan and turn from your side to your back, looking up at the mildewy roof of the tent you’re trying to sleep in.
“Shouldn’t have taken this stupid fuckin’ job” you mutter to yourself quietly, aware of Ezra somehow sleeping beside you.
Ezra; you’re partner in prospecting and crime and a variety of other unsavoury activities. Right now you’re too aware of him and his warm body. He’s always too close but you’d never usually complain. Except for right now when you want nothing more than to kick him out of the tent completely so you can spread your limbs wide and try not to feel so damn sticky.
You move again with a huff, turning your pancake-thin pillow over to the cooler side. It barely helps. You can feel the sweat gather between your breasts and your thighs and on your back. The only thing you can think to thank Kevva for is that you’d at least come to a planet with a breathable atmosphere, because if you’d had to wear your suit all day too you’d have lost your mind days ago.
“Something the matter, stardust?” Ezra asks, voice thick with sleep. Guilt pangs when you realise you woke him with all your movement, but he just gazes at you sleepily with a half-amused smile as his eyes flutter closed then open again adjusting to the low flickering glow of the lamplight.
“Just hot” you sigh turning on your side again to face him, body thrumming with restlessness and a jolt of other when his deep brown eyes flicker down to the loose, thin top that’s pulled up enough to reveal the curve of your body from waist to hip, your soft stomach, and the small shorts riding up the tops of your thighs.
He suddenly seems much more awake.
“Well I certainly won’t disagree with you on that” he practically purrs and chuckles when you roll your eyes.
“Shut up, Ez” you retort slightly more stern than you had intended to sound and he raises an eyebrow at your annoyed tone.
“Sorry” you murmur after.
He smirks at you but doesn’t respond, his eyes darting back down your body then to your lips with very clear intent. You look back at him. He’s shirtless with a pair of shorts slung low on his hips and you always love to see that despite the hard life of drifting he is still soft and comfortable, getting by with just enough food to never be gaunt. The scars from decades of dangerous living are visible on his golden skin which is sheened with sweat. The starlight blonde patch of hair sticks to his forehead.
Perhaps he is another thing to thank the goddess for.
Like magnets drawn together you both shift a little closer, even the heat of his body not able to deter you as your eyes meet again.
He reaches out a hand and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb making contact with your cheek with a sweet caress. With a barely audible sigh he leans closer and offers his lips to you. You’ve never denied him a kiss, you aren’t going to start now but you do hesitate.
“I’m gross” you mutter against his lips when his hand pushes up the flimsy top and skims the underside of your breast, knowing the moisture of sweat clings there.
“You’re radiant” he responds.
You roll your eyes again.
“It’s sweat”
“Stardust, what exactly makes you conclude I would ever care about that?” He whispers, voice low. “It’s you. That’s all that matters”
He leans in to you more then, his hand gently grasping a breast, thumb swiping over your sensitive nipple as your body reacts to him all on its own. His words make you warmer but this time you don’t curse the heat. Your conscious of how prevalent your perspiration is but the way in which Ezra simply doesn’t care gives you cause to give in too.
“Relax now, I’ll make you forget all about the torridity” He says.
He’s intent to make you stop thinking as he leans towards you and kisses you harder. His tongue welcomely intrudes your mouth and his hand pursues new territory as he drags it down your curves and around to the front of your shorts.
“Ezra..” you whine, bewildered by how you can be so desperate to have him closer now when just moments ago your wanted him far away. His palm presses against you at the apex of your legs and then you feel his fingers slip up the leg of your loose shorts. He huffs out a happy grunt as he finds you slick there from more than the heat.
"You..." He kisses you again, even less restrained than before "...are wanting of this more than you let on, stardust" He groans as his fingers slip up the seam of your cunt, finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp for it.
Your body is heating up to impossible lengths and you imagine what a state you must look like; dewy skinned and exasperated from lack of sleep and a new desperation for him. Your hair is stuck to your skin, the damp beneath your breasts and between your thighs increases. It's maddening but Ezra is looking at you like you are some unearthly delight that he has happened upon in his own garden of eden. He could never make you feel anything less than desired even when you feel anything less than desirable. It's a talent of his, really.
That quick tongue of his is occupied now with other things, the delicious drag of it from your lips, down your jaw and then your neck. He groans against your skin, his fingers working their way from clit to your entrance so he can gather your slick on them. He pushes one in, and you already feel like you could forget more than just the heat, you could forget where you are entirely if he keeps going.
You whimper and he smiles so delightedly.
He’s soon moving his head to a place further down, sucking in a nipple over the fabric of your shirt. He takes you completely off guard as he pushes in another finger, toying with you when he knows exactly what to do to make you forget your own name.
"I'm all...all...You don't have to...it's not…" you stutter not even a full sentence.
"Take off your shirt" Is all he responds with. No preamble, no flowery wording. A simple instruction.
"I…" You hesitate because you really are so sticky hot and some prevalent part of your brain is still stuck on that undesirability you feel.
"Do it"
You do. The little top comes off in a moment, giving Ezra access to your breasts with that wicked tongue of his. He swipes your pebbled nipples, once on each, with it and then sucks one in to his mouth, using his teeth to ever so gently pull.
Meanwhile those talented fingers do their own work. In...deep, deep, crooking at the place that makes your stomach clench in pleasure. Back out, just a little, playing with you because he knows how much he can make your mind blank if he just makes it a little more difficult for you.
"Teasing me..." You whisper, your own hands playing in his damp hair, grabbing slightly. He knows you know what he's doing to you.
"Making you forget. Making your think about nothing else. Let me" He smirks. He is a devilish man, you decide, and you are glad he is the devil of your own heart and no one elses.
"Mmmh, I- Yeah. You can do that..." You sigh. Finally feeling his thumb barely touch your clit as his fingers work inside of you to bring on something that will make you cry out his name for all the planet to hear.
"Would you like more?"
"Don't you...dare stop"
He laughs, that delightful laugh of his that you fell in love with.
The heat and his hand make you feel kind of like you're in a dream, dizzy with all of the things you feel inside and out. You love him like this, love him to be so intense, so incredibly devious in making you feel exactly the thing he wants you to feel.
"Come kiss me" You whimper and he grins like the cat that got the cream, knowing he has you.
Ezra does exactly as you want kissing your lips once, twice before pulling away. You can taste the sweat on his skin and it only drives you more in to want. You're starting to understand his way of thinking; why should you care about anything but the two of you and what your bodies can do? Perpiration or no, he feels good and makes you feel good.
His fingers work magically in you until your getting breathy and close to the inevitable edge. He's hard against your hip but when you reach to help him with that he pushes your hand away.
"Not now"
"Feels- oh, feels so right" is about all you can give him as he slips another finger in and stretches you so deliciously. You want it again and again and again and he gives it to you as his fingers hook and rub deep inside, and you start to cry desperately for him to never, ever stop “Ez...”
“Shh, stardust. Let it take you, let me help you” He groans feeling your wetness gush around his fingers. His thumb rubs your clit in faster little circles and you arch.
You come in a frenzy of blooming heat, a pleasure that makes you push against him as if begging for even more. Your skin is glistening now not just from the torridity of this unforgiving climate but from the pure fire in your body. How can he make you feel like this every time? It is so unreasonable that he has this power, but it is so right.
Ezra licks a swipe between the valley of your breasts, and then up to your neck where he kisses you gently as you slowly catch your breath. Your eyes are heavy, sleep already taking you in to its arms as you lay your head down and pull him up for a slow, lazy kiss that keeps the fire flickering just a moment longer.
“Mm. Ez” is about all you manage for that moment, fingers playing again in the damp hair at the nape of his neck until your eyes are closing.
“Sleep, my lucent love. You’re welcome” Ezra chuckles letting you fall back as he lays on his side watching you.
You’re asleep in moments, sticky hot but satisfied enough to not be able to think about it any more.
You’ll certainly thank him in the morning.
Tumblr media
84 notes · View notes
duskholland · 4 years ago
Text
Warm | Tom Holland Smut
warnings ↠ nsfw, 18+ ! this is just some very loving c*ckwarming with sleepy boyfriend tom, ft unprotected sex and oral (fem receiving)
word count ↠ a wholesome 3k
a/n ↠ got inspired by the ig live yesterday and whipped up a lil something to satisfy the devil in me. let me know what you think!
Tumblr media
The material of Tom’s hoodie is soft against your cheek, and as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, it feels as though the weight of the world is rolling from your shoulders. His hands are on your waist, tucked beneath the hem of your t-shirt and resting gently over the curves of your hips. As you hum against his shoulder, you feel him shift his fingers, tracing delicate, circular patterns over your skin. 
“Your hoodie is so soft,” you mumble against him, punctuating the words with a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Tom squeezes your sides, bringing his lips to the top of your head where he leaves a lingering kiss to your hairline. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”
One of his hands moves away from your waist, drifting up to cup the back of your head. As Tom’s nimble fingers rest over your hair, he uses his other arm to pull you closer. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, both of you tangled up in sweats and comfy clothes, and the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours makes you sigh contentedly. 
“We can stay like this all day?” Tom offers. He slowly strokes over the back of your head, the gesture full of a gentle tenderness you’d missed. He’s been so busy recently, with filming and press engagements, that it’s been a while since you’ve had time to exist like this. Two people, curled up together, wrapped up in dizzying love. “Missed you so much this week, darling.”
You smile against his neck and finally pull back so you can look at him properly. You’re resting over Tom’s thighs, straddling his green sweats comfortably, and your position gives you the perfect opportunity to get a lovely, long look at your boyfriend’s face. With his pink hood drawn up around his head, you can make out a few strands of his brown hair, long and a little shiny, and you find your fingers drawn towards them. You reach up, smiling at his tut of disapproval as you gently knock the hood down, revealing his bed of messy, chestnut curls.
“Missed you too,” you finally reply, carding a hand through his hair. With your other fingers, you reach out to cup his cheek, grinning as he presses his face into your palm. Tom’s got his eyes wide and flooded with gentle love, and it makes you melt. This man has you wrapped around his little finger. “Missed a lot of things about you, actually.”
“Yeah?” Tom’s lips quirk into a lazy smirk as he draws you a little nearer. He smells faintly of cologne. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know…” As you muse, you let your index finger wander down the bridge of his nose, tracing over the light freckles. “Missed hearing your lovely voice. It always sounds so raspy in the morning like this.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “And I missed your hugs. God, Tom, you give the best hugs.” As if to prove your point, Tom tightens his grip around you. “Missed your lips, too.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” He’s got that cheeky glint in his eyes, and you nod your head immediately. “I think they missed you too, love. Why don’t you pay them a visit?”
The snort that leaves your mouth is a loud burst of twisted sound, but it makes Tom’s smile grow wider. You wind both arms around his neck and shuffle closer, finally bridging the distance and nuzzling your mouth against his. 
Kissing Tom has to be one of your favourite things ever. The way your lips meld together, dancing in sync as he presses against you with eager force always makes your heart race, no matter how long you’ve been together. His lips are warm and gentle, and as they meet with yours in a lazy exploration of mutual enjoyment, you find yourself melting against him. His hands are back on your hips, and they roam the expanse of your naked back as his tongue flicks into your mouth, causing you to groan softly. When he drags his fingers up and discovers your lack of bra, he’s quick to shift his palms around to the front of your body, holding the curves of your breasts in each hand.
“I bloody love you,” he murmurs, speaking against your lips. The pads of his thumbs brush over your nipples and you gasp into his mouth, careening further into his touch. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, lovie.” 
You kiss him with a little more intensity, your heart fluttering in response to his sweet, sweet sentiment. It’s early - the both of you had only woken up a half-hour ago - so Tom’s voice is strained and raspy. The sound of his husky tones brings a thrill of excitement to the heat between your legs. 
As his tongue explores your mouth and your fingers tangle in his hair, you become aware of a building pressure pushing up against your sweats. You start to grind down against him, enjoying both the friction it provides to your clit and also the way the movement draws deep, desperate whines from Tom. 
“You wanna know a secret?” You ask him, pulling away to pant in his ear. When Tom hums, you kiss his earlobe. “Think I might’ve missed your cock, too.”
His chuckle rumbles into the air. “Is that so?” Tom’s hands slip away from your chest, and they anchor down your hips. You hum as he guides you, pushing you further against his crotch as your centres meet. You can feel the outline of his length straining up against you, and the sensation makes you grin. “I’ve missed being inside your tight little pussy.” He leaves a kiss just behind your ear, right over a patch of sensitive skin. “Maybe we should do something about that?”
You almost whine as you nod, eagerly reaching down to release the drawstrings of his sweats. In return, Tom pulls free your own, and there’s a moment of shuffling around as you sit up and carefully wriggle out of both your trousers and your panties, Tom bundling them up and folding them into a neat pile beside him. Once you’re settled, you reach beneath the waistband of Tom’s sweats and pull his full member free, all whilst his hot lips trail up and down the column of your neck. 
There’s no burning desperation to your movements as you slowly work one another up. Rather, it’s gentle. Soft caresses, tender lips, whispered words of praise. You’re kissing him as you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, and he’s swallowing your moans with his tongue when two of his fingers slip into your slick pussy and work you open. It’s loving and familiar as he crooks his fingertips and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating your passage until you’re bucking down against him, your movements distracted as your cunt drips for him.
“Need you inside me,” you moan out, a slight pull to your voice. You whimper as Tom’s hot fingers slip out from inside you, and then gasp when he uses his wet fingertips to rub over your clit. The bud pulses and you almost lose it, but a panging in your cunt reminds you of your overwhelming desire to have him inside you. “Tom,” you whine, skimming your thumb over his weepy tip, “Stop teasing.”
Tom growls into your ear, but he reluctantly moves his fingers away from you. He meets your eyes as he very purposefully brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking his digits clean, moaning softly as he does it. 
“Delicious,” he decides. When you throw him a light scowl, he grabs you by the hips and brings you nearer. “Now,” he says, dropping his voice. His hand joins yours on his cock, and together you guide his head through your slit. You let Tom do the hard work, whimpering quietly as he lines his tip with your entrance. “How about we take care of this little problem, eh?”
Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you slowly, slowly lower yourself over him, tossing your head back as you adjust to the stretch. Tom’s lips move over your neck, sucking a soft hickey to your skin, anchoring you down. The sensation of his member settling deep inside you after so long makes you grab fistfuls of his hoodie, your knuckles tightening around it as you gasp softly.
“Fuck,” you murmur, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You’re fully seated now, and you can feel every ridge and line of his cock pushed up against your walls, as if in high definition. Everything is amplified, and the longer you sit there wrapped up in his arms and with his lips now dusting over your temple, the closer to Tom you feel. “I love you,” you whimper, voice breathless.
Tom runs his hands over your back, soothing you with large circles of his palms. “Love you too, darling,” he mumbles. He shifts a little on the sofa, and you moan as the head of his cock brushes deeper. “Feel so warm ‘n snug around me.”
You feel yourself clench at his words, and make a very conscious decision to loosen up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you pull yourself away from the crook of Tom’s neck, pouting a little as the soft fabric of his hoodie leaves your face.
“Do you want to stay like this for a little bit?” You ask, eyes skimming his beautiful face. Your heart fills with appreciation for the man as you pick up all the small details that make him so attractive to you: the worn curves of his nose, the splattering of sun-kissed freckles over his cheeks, the ruffled hairs of his eyebrow. Your thumb absently moves up to his eyebrow and you draw your touch across it, feeling the soft hairs with your finger and sighing as you admire him. 
“How long?”
You crane your neck back, glancing briefly at the paused TV. “‘Til the end of the show? Should be about ten minutes.” You move your hand into his hair, feeling the silky strands fall past your fingers. “Just wanna feel close to you.”
Tom presses his lips to the tip of your nose, drawing a loose giggle from you. “Alright,” he agrees. He drops his voice as he shifts his mouth back to your ear, hot breath flushing over your neck as he adds, quieter, “I’m going to wreck you afterwards, though.”
A shiver passes through you, and your hum mixes with the sounds of the TV as Tom immediately unpauses the programme. You can’t see the screen from where you’re sitting, but you turn down Tom’s offer to reposition. The show is the last thing on your mind, and you’re glad you’re not distracted by it. 
For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere. Hands on your sides, caressing you and drawing you closer. His lips softly passing over the top of your head. His length, plugging you up to the hilt. Each time one of you shifts, you release a quiet whimper as arcs of pleasure roll up your spine, and when you clench in response, Tom grunts. There’s something so easily private about it: no end goal but just to enjoy one another, and spend this quiet moment holed up in each other’s arms. 
You’ve never felt this loved before, and it brings a lump to your throat.
“You okay?” Tom asks, shifting a hand to hold the back of your head. You hum, tilting your face to the side so you can kiss the point behind his ear.
“Yeah. Just really love you.”
His eyes flicker down to meet yours, flooding with concern when he notes the tears spread thinly over your eyes. “You’re so precious,” he lilts, his accent twanging prominently. He brings you nearer, kissing your forehead in several spots. “I’m going to marry you one day.”
You kiss him, letting your hand travel up to rest against his cheek. “Good,” you whisper against him. There’s a dizzying moment where you just look at him, his eyes mirroring yours, flooded deep with gratitude that rocks you to your bones. You feel safe wrapped up in his arms, and as the music for the credits drifts through the air, you find yourself exhaling. “Show’s over.”
“Lay down for me, love.” 
You whimper when you feel his length slide from you, your cunt feeling cold and empty without him, but he kisses at your pout until it fades away. Tom follows you down onto the couch cushions, caging you in with an arm either side your head. After a moment, you feel his cock sliding through your slit again, pressing up against your clit in a way that makes you moan. 
“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit, pulling away from a deep kiss with a perplexed expression on your face. 
“Fucking lovely, isn’t it?” Tom gains a rather mischievous look on his face. “Actually…” 
He pulls away before you can grab him to stay, and Tom slips down between your legs with a cheeky smirk on his lips. 
“Tom,” you whine, scrunching your nose. “I want you.”
“In a minute.” He presses your knees apart and leaves a soft kiss to the inside of one of your thighs. “Patience, my darling girl.”
You try your best to look unimpressed, but it’s very difficult to maintain the rouse as he draws his tongue through your slit. You reach down to grip at his hair, pulling him closer as he trails his mouth all over you. He moans straight against your sopping folds, teasing your clit with his tongue as he slides two fingers back into you, exploring your wet heat eagerly.
“Tom,” you cry out, your back arching off the sofa. His free hand immediately goes to your side, pushing you back down and keeping you in place as his mouth explores you. Noises of your wet arousal fill the air as he sucks over your clit, teasing you, edging you until you’re whimpering. “C’mon, Tom, don’t wanna cum like this. Need to be full of you.”
When he pulls back, Tom runs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the shine of your slick and his spit combined. He cracks a smile when he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, pulling up until he’s hovering above you once more. One of his hands caresses your leg before loosely opening it up, and the other rests over your hair near your head. He kisses you softly.
“Are you ready?” He asks. 
“Yes,” you whimper, pressing down against him to prove your point. Your voice twists into a gasp as Tom slips into you, the movement easy and slick. Your fingers grip at the back of his hoodie as he rocks against you, your cunt squeezing around him as you take him wholly. “Shit.”
Tom nips at your necks, strands of his hair rubbing up against your hot skin. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs. He pulls out before fucking back into you with a deep, slow thrust. “Fuck, you’re such an angel.” He leaves another kiss to your neck as he gradually quickens his pace. “My angel, aren’t you?”
You pull him back up, meeting his mouth in response. As you kiss him, his hand on your thigh shifts up and intertwines with one of yours, your fingers tangling as the rest of your bodies do, too. You’re grateful for the contact - keeping you anchored together like an emotional tether, a constant reminder of your love. 
Everything about the moment feels so intimate, his pace slow but still fulfilling. Each time Tom thrusts his hips to meet yours, you feel him in you deep, nudging against those spots only he could reach. Each rut presses you one step closer to heaven, and your praises come out garbled, dissolving into his mouth as his lips caress you, tender and warm. 
Tom pulls away after minutes of deep kissing to stare at you, brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m so lucky,” he stammers out, voice strained. You widen your leg, granting him easier access, and both of you groan as the position lets him in deeper. You can feel that telltale warmth building in the pit of your stomach. “Love of my life, you are. You and your- fuck, your perfect little pussy.” His cheeks are red as he kisses your jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of my life, love.”
His words ignite something inside you that goes much deeper than superficial pleasure, and you find yourself clinging to him, gripping his hand with renewed strength as your other twists down between your bodies. Your fingertips connect with your clit, and you glide them over the bud, moaning louder as you feel your orgasm jerk closer.
“Cum in me,” you find yourself saying, eyes trained on the spot between your legs where Tom’s cock meets with your cunt. “Wanna feel you fill me up.” 
His head finds the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pushing up against your skin as he grunts. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand as you gasp for breath. “I’m close.”
Tom peaks a few moments later, and the action of his guttural groans spilling into the air coupled with the way his cock pulses as he empties his load inside you makes you spasm over the edge too. You whimper as you orgasm, a throbbing warmth spreading across you as Tom kisses your neck over and over, his fingers gripping yours tightly as you enjoy the high together, basking in it. Your mouth hangs half-open as you vocalise your climax, your body on fire as he fucks you through it, the moment spanning a short infinity.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, finally stilling. He stays nudged up inside you as he sits up, supporting his weight on his arms, your hands still joined. Tom kisses you passionately, and you feel him smile against your lips as you kiss him back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
You bring your free hand up to his head, pushing his hair out from his face as you cup his cheek, looking into his captivating brown eyes. You look at him, and you know that there’s no safer vessel for your heart. You know he’s the love of your life. 
“Love you too,” you say, pausing to kiss him between each word. By the end, both of you are smiling. “You know you’re still in me, yeah?”
Tom chuckles, nodding. “Yeah.” He kisses your nose. “You’re warm.”
-
------
yeah you could say im soft for hoodie!tom...
masterlist linked in bio !
please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts :D askbox is always open; feel free to rb/comment (pls)
stay safe my lovely pals <3
4K notes · View notes
multiland · 3 years ago
Text
Mr. perfect.
Tumblr media
pairing: idol!Joshua x reader
genre: angst
word count: 1.5K
summary: what do you do when the one who was always there to comfort you, is the one who now has broken you?
warnings: mentions of cheating, denial and heartbreak.
A/N: this sucks. I’m sorry.
When you first learned about love, you always tried to keep in mind that everything about it was ephemeral, that no matter how many happy endings you had heard about, there was no way someone could ever meet such expectations. To you, fairytales were nothing but that, a fictional scenario people created to give themselves hope, to try to find something good even when the so-called love they felt, hurt them more than any physical harm.
But then you met Joshua, and suddenly you found yourself believing in everything you had convinced yourself was nothing but a lie.
You met him on a Friday night at some fancy party your best friend had thrown. Being from a wealthy family, it was no surprise to you that you found some famous people there. You were nothing like them, but being attached to the hip to her since you were kids surely took you to some places you would’ve never thought you’d ever see.
Dressed in a skin-tight navy dress, you were minding your own business, playing with the martini in your hands as your eyes traveled across the enormous house. The music wasn’t the same kind people your age would put in the background, instead, there were some violinists and pianists playing live. You felt out of place, the fact that your friend had left your side to keep greeting people not helping at all.
And that’s when you saw him, walking through the door with some other guys in a beige tuxedo, black strands of hair hanging over his eyes and small silver piercings decorating his ears.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to him, as he stood there across the room with his hands in his pockets, clearly enjoying the music and focused on the musicians. That’s when somewhere along the lines his eyes had landed on you, the previously blank expression on his face turning into the smallest but sweetest smile for you, and you swore you had never seen a man that beautiful in your entire life.
You knew it was over for you as soon as those round and beautiful dark orbs made your heart go crazy, wanting to look away but not being able to. He had an instant power over you, and you didn’t even want it to be any different.
Somehow you exchanged numbers that night, and although you thought you would never see him again, he proved you otherwise when he started texting you the following days.
You started spending time together every now and then, going to some cafes or meeting somewhere more private. Knowing the reality of his situation wasn’t something easy, but you were soon so infatuated with him that you didn’t even think of saying no when he asked you out.
Being with an idol wasn’t what you had expected at all, but Joshua always made everything feel so safe, warm, and comfortable that everything seemed to be just so easy.
He was so attentive, caring, and loving that you, not even once, felt neglected. He called you every single night before going to sleep or messaged you in the mornings or during breaks.
If you ever felt bad, he always knew the right words to say, and even though you felt insecure about him being around beautiful women all the time, he was quick to ease your fears and make you believe there was no way in the world he would ever want someone who wasn’t you.
You felt wanted, beautiful, and loved. He was a prince, he was everything someone could have ever wanted. So gentle, sweet, always there for you no matter what.
He was the only one who was able to set your body aflame with a single touch, always feeling like you were flying whenever his arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne, so familiar, filled your nose and made you feel like everything would be okay.
The way he held your hand and kissed your knuckles when he drove, the way he always tucked strands of hair behind your ear, or the way he kissed you in the middle of saying something just because he couldn’t help but being so whipped for you, making you lose your mind with such a simple action.
His sweet, raspy voice in the mornings after he had spent the night; the way his pupils dilated whenever you wore one of his shirts with nothing underneath, the way he made love to you as soon as he went back home, loving you hard enough for you to feel the trace of his fingers and the taste of his mouth whenever he had to leave again. Fingers through his hair as his mouth swallowed your moans, fingertips digging on your burning skin, teeth sinking on the flesh as he took you to paradise.
The way you found relief in his lips, kissing like there was no tomorrow and feeling like you couldn't get enough of each other. His tongue making you delirious, electrifying every inch of your skin.
Everything that came out of his mouth was dripping with honey, because he never wanted to see you upset, because he was your serotonin, because he simply was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were the same for him.
Or at least, that’s what you thought.
That’s why you couldn’t process the words that were falling from his mouth that night, after a month of not seeing each other for his comeback and promotions, he had come to your house, but as soon as you met his gaze, you knew something was wrong.
But you never thought it’d be something so horrible.
He had appeared at your place to tell you he had kissed a female back dancer a week before.
“No.” You laughed humorlessly as you shook your head. “It’s impossible. That did not happen.”
His eyes were filled with hurt and remorse, the more he noticed your denial, the worse he felt.
“y/n… I- I’m so sorry… Fuck I’m sorry. I swear I love you. I’m such an asshole.”
“Joshua, please stop. This is not a funny joke.”
“How can you think I would joke with something like this?” He asked in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.
And you were well aware of it not being a joke in the slightest. The way you could feel cold sweat running down your spine and your stomach churn kept trying to pull your feet back to the ground. But you would try to trick the fate and desperately conjure the truth you wanted to take place.
“Because there’s no way you’d do something like that. You love me, right? You’ve done nothing but show me how much you do.”
Joshua swallowed, tears burning his eyes and threatening to fall.
“I do love you. More than anything.” He assured. “That’s why I’m here, that’s why I can’t stand the idea of what I did behind your back. I kissed someone else while you stayed home and gave me all of your trust.” He repeated. “I regret it every second because I know how much I just fucked up… But I can’t cope with the idea of you trying to dismiss it. I don’t deserve it.”
"Joshua"
He shook his head, stepping closer and grabbing your hands in his.
"Please, please don't give me a chance to stay by your side because I will not hesitate to take it and I don't deserve to be with someone like you." His voice was so sweet, so subtle despite of him saying something so devastating. His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear like he always did, retreating as soon as the guilt attacked him again. "You're so beautiful, so smart, sweet and bright and I'm so, so in love with you. It kills me to know I just ruined everything with the woman I love the most in such a dumb way."
You noticed the way his eyes were getting watery, another thing that made you realize how real it was. You wanted to hate him and tell him how much of a dick he was, but nothing came out of your mouth. You just couldn't, although you knew you should have, you could not bring yourself to hate him.
“You- No, listen Joshua…” You trailed off, heart finally breaking in a million pieces as you tried your best to convince yourself that everything was nothing but a twisted dream. “I know you would never hurt me like that. You would never cheat on me. Why would you? That’s ridiculous! You know that I'd do anything for you, right? You know that I love you more than anything. We’ve always had this chemistry, this peaceful and beautiful relationship. You’ve never given me any reasons to be jealous or to feel insecure, someone like that wouldn’t go against his own preach.” You tried to reason, a bitter chuckle slipping from your lips as you wiped your tears “See, I know you’re just such a gentleman that you’d rather put the blame on your shoulders than say she was the one who took advantage of you and kissed you. You’re a gorgeous guy, it must be hard for people not to throw themselv-"
“Why are you trying so desperately to excuse my actions?" He interrupted you in distress. "Babe, I- I don’t deserve it. I was the one who kissed her. While we danced the atmosphere got tense, the adrenaline did not help, and I just had the impulse.” Joshua said lowly, the knot in his throat becoming thicker and making it hard for him to breathe. “I’m so sorry... Why can't you just blame me for what I did? Just tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, slap me, tell me you don't want to see me again. Call me a dickhead, the worst thing that happened to you, I'll take it all, because I fucked up.”
You forced yourself to step back, the air in your lungs slowly fading away as the void in your chest grew bigger.
“No... I- I can't... Because you would never do something so vile.” You smiled, not noticing the way your tears were already streaming down your cheeks. "You wouldn't throw all the beautiful things between us out of the window just to get your damn dick wet. Not when you told me so many times how you'd never want anyone else but me and I believed you because you looked me in the eyes."
Joshua pressed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath as he stepped closer, but you stepped back.
"I do not want anyone else but you, but I stopped thinking and just let my primal self take control instead of considering what I got to lose."
"No!" You shouted. "You wouldn't! You're perfect!"
Joshua lowered his gaze to the floor, hands ballin into fists.
“I’m not perfect… I never was, I never will. No one is.” He whispered. "That's why I need to go before I keep hurting you. If you ask me to stay I will, and I can not let you accept me back."
And then you knew. The idea you had engraved in your head about love being a real fairytale was long gone, cause all it did was break, burn and end.
Your sweet boyfriend, the same who used to whisper how much he loved you against your lips, the same who washed your hair for you, the same who looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, was the same one who had stabbed you in the back.
Your lip quivered, and Joshua wanted desperately to wipe your tears away and hold you in his arms, but how could he? When he was the one who had hurt you in the first place, how could he ever fix up a heart he let down? He did not deserve to touch you ever again.
With a shaky breath, you forced the words out of your throat.
“That’s where the problem is, Joshua.” You said, voice cracking as his brows pulled together in confusion. “That’s why facing the truth will destroy every part of my being, that's why I will never be able to trust anyone again, that's why I don't want you to walk out the door. If you do, everything will be real, and the thing that would hurt the most is to realize all this time I stopped believing in my instincts, because I thought you were different, because I've always known perfection does not exist…" You explained, a small sob falling from your mouth and cutting you out before you continued. "But to me, you were perfect.”
261 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⤷ 𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 : WRITTEN CHAPTER
⤷ CHAPTER SUMMARY: a million unspoken words have built up between you and your best friend katsuki bakugou, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, even when you’re warn down and somewhat broken... he knows that sometimes even pro heroes need saving.
warning(s) for this chapter: please read ! this chapter contains lots and lots of angst yo :(, soft baku and some mentions of emotional distress.
author’s note(s): hey there my loves ! yes yes this is a third written chapter and it is the final one. its a little sad at the beginning but don’t worry. it gets a lot softer! please enjoy super soft bakugou :(
previous | part thirty two - love him more | next
word count: 2.4K.
Tumblr media
pushing the door open, katsuki bakugou braces himself for what lies behind your unlocked door. your usually sun filled apartment on the eastern side of town where the pro had often spent hours admiring and cooking for you was now locked in a dark embrace, the curtains drawn to the point where every room had been smothered in a thick fog of black and katsuki could barely see.
but for him, making his way around your home was as easy as learning his ABCs. he practically lived here, on days where he was too tired to care, nights where you were both beaten up from patrol but you still find the energy to patch him up. there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do for katsuki, so he would do the same for you. 
vermillion eyes seek you out in the darkness, his trained ears picking up on the small whimpers that spread thinly through the apartment’s silence and with practiced ease the blonde finds the sofa which you’ve buried yourself in.
“there you are shitty girl,” bakugou mumbles into the still air, the harsh pet name coming out softly on his tongue. despite his hot headed nature, you’d always accepted him fully— never driven away by his terrible habit of using curse words every five seconds, or his natural aggressiveness— no. you loved every inch of him just as it were. you don’t shift from the safety of your blankets when he calls you, making him frown. so, as if not to scare you away , katsuki takes small and tentative steps towards you, until he’s resting on his knees in front of you.
“k-katsu...katsuki,” you heave, trembling with the sobs that wrack your body. the sight of the man alone is enough to set you off, not because he hurt you but because he came— he came when you needed him to. katsuki bakugou had never failed you, not yet. “it hurts, i can’t—“ heated arms wrap around you, warm enough that you can feel them through the mounds of blankets you’ve surrounded yourself in. 
pain burns in your chest, clawing up your rib cage and choking you from inside out, everything made you think of keigo, how he had loved you without words— only for it all to be a lie. the pain you felt washed over you like powerful waves, making you cling to katsuki tighter than ever before, your grip on him so tight that your nails dug into your  palms.
pulling you from your heap of blankets, the explosive pro hero brings you further into his arms, resting his cheek on top of your head. “stop it dumbass, you’ll hurt yourself even more.” bakugou takes your hands, rubbing your palms where your nails have indented as if to soothe you because like he had promised— he wasn’t here to hurt you.
as he rubs at your palms, you force your face into his firm chest— breathing in the familiar scent of burning sugar and sweet caramel, one that never fails to relax you. the smell of keigo is everywhere in your apartment, your bed, your clothes, your blankets. you’re suffocating in every trace of him and katsuki bakugou is like a breath of fresh air. “c-can i stay with you? everything smells like him...” your voice is barely above a whisper, muffled by the fabric of bakugou’s black shirt but you can tell that he’s heard you from the way he suddenly links your fingers.
bakugou kisses the top of your head, the light peck dressing your hair line as he stands and separates himself from you. the gesture is oddly soft for someone who looks angry by nature— but he’s only ever been this way with you. “shitty girl, you don’t even have to ask,” he mumbles, vermillion eyes looking everywhere but you. you give the blonde a watery smile before he disappears into your apartment, presumably to gather some belongings of yours to take with you. he knows where everything is so you don’t bother to move, curling in on yourself.
reality finally sets in, a paperweight of emotions crushing your heart into tiny pieces. everything you’d known for the last several months had turned out to be a lie, every look, every touch and every kiss had been staged. 
what did he gain? what did keigo win for breaking your heart? you suppose aizawa is partly to blame for setting this whole thing up behind your back but even he couldn’t be in control of your feelings. when katsuki returns, he’s locked all the doors and turned off all lights that are further into your home. on his left shoulder he carries an overnight bag but some how manages to scoop you up into his warm arms.
you find yourself on a quiet ride to his place a little while later, streetlights like stars in the night sky. bakugou’s house was a short drive from yours, somewhere he’d gotten shortly after his twentieth birthday. 
it was a big house with high ceilings and wide open windows— perfect to accommodate for any repercussions of his quirk. there was a beautiful view of the city too, something that katsuki had been proud of when he got the place. he’d spent most of his earnings from his time as a side kick on it, a risky move you wouldn’t put past him.
“i’m running you a bath and you’re fuckin’ taking it. you reek.” katsuki’s sharp words cut through the thick silence as you enter his home. he sets you up in the spare bedroom before heading off to the bathroom to do as he said. his words, despite harsh, have a hidden meaning behind them— either that you smell like hawks and he doesn’t want that infecting his home or that he’s genuinely worried for your health. 
you figure that it’s both. when the water’s just right, he helps you get in ( although his cheeks are stained bright red, matching his eyes ) and washes away the tears and snot that’s built up over the last few days.
there’s a spare change of clothes waiting for you when you get out, your favourite black shirt of his and pair of undies to wear underneath. bakugou always takes care of you, no questions asked. that’s why he says nothing when you slide into bed with him that night, nor the next day when you take food from his plate at breakfast. he’d always been that kind of friend, there for you to the end, no matter what.
the following night you’re curled in his lap, watching re-runs of an old allmight cartoon he was obsessed with back in high school. bakugou’s attention is mostly focused on the phone in his right hand, the left drawing absentminded patterns into your cheek. 
you figure that he’s probably warding away his managers since he’d dipped his hero duties to take care of you or updating your friends and aizawa on how you’re doing. nonetheless, you enjoy how he holds you and keeps you close— maybe it’s because you’re reminded of how things used to be be; when you were dating, when you were back in U.A.
yourself and katsuki bakugou had dated from your second year till your last at U.A. graduation had been hard, seeing as this would be the last time you were surrounded by all your friends on the hero course; tears drenched your cheeks as you said your goodbyes to not only them— but to katsuki as well. you’d both agreed that after sharing two years together, secret kisses outside the dorms at night, dates where your friends would tease the blasting hero until the tips of his ears were as red at his eyes; that it was time to part. 
romance and feelings would get in the way of being the best of the best and you couldn’t dream of stopping bakugou from reaching what he could practically touch.
you had to let go of him, you couldn’t hold him back.
back then; you were only eighteen with the world of colours ahead of you. you’d promised yourself from then that you would work twice as hard as your friends to rank the highest you could— because while katsuki was your first love, you wouldn’t let that stop you from aiming high as well. 
now, almost twenty-two, you could look back with a fond smile at the sweet memories you both had made together. so why did you feel bitter? why did it hurt to be in his arms like this?
was it because you thought, that if you hadn’t met keigo, none of this would have happened? would you be as happy with bakugou as you were with him? you don’t realise that you’re crying until katsuki wipes away your tears before they can hit your cheeks. there’s a knowing look swirling in his eyes as you abruptly sit up to wipe at your face. “s-sorry, i...” you huff frustration laced in your tone. you’re tired of crying, tired of being sad. “god, i must look so stupid!”
the blonde leans in, rolling his eyes as warm calloused hands come up to cup your cheeks. “let yourself cry shitty woman, you just got your heart broken. stop creating lame excuses to torture yourself with.” he chides, thumbs brushing away stray tears that somehow manage to escape. you find yourself nodding slowly, heart racing at the proximity of your best friend. 
he’s still the same boy he was when you were tucked away in the safety of your U.A bedroom; brazen, with sharp, chiselled features and hellish eyes that held the worlds jewels. he’s still your bakugou, the man you still hold so much love for.
if you could see yourself now you’d call yourself a fool— for your mouth moved before your mind and your lips end up pressed against against bakugou’s. he stiffens, because this would have been the first time you’ve kissed this way in four years, but he soon relaxes— the hands that cup your cheeks dropping to your waist to pull you closer to him, holding you as if you’re going to disappear at any moment. his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they were moulded for each other and he’s hot against you, tenderly moving in sync with you. 
your fingers make their way into his forest of blonde locks, curling in them tightly which makes the man before you groan quietly— you kiss him with unspoken words and hidden truths, all the while, fresh sets of tears burn in the corners of your closed eyes—stinging a path down your cheeks.
he must feel them too because he only pulls you closer, letting his lips do the talking as he kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the chance to. you whine into him brokenly and he flinches with every oncoming tear that paints your locked lips with a salty flavour. that’s what it feels like, your last kiss; as you pour every ounce of passion into the liplock as possible. 
you feel the world crumbling away. you love him, you have for years and always will be hopelessly in love with katsuki bakugou but there’s a hole in your heart that he can’t fill and he knows it. gripping his shirt now, you feel your lungs burn with the need to breathe in fresh air and regretfully pull away from your best friend.
when you open your eyes you’re met with the sight of a ruby gaze and flushed cheeks, swollen lips and a sorrowful smile that makes your heart ache. you try to back up, mind hazy with storm clouds of emotion but he doesn’t let you leave him. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have—“
“i’m not,” he says quietly, blunt as ever, gaze flickering to the hands of yours that he now holds.
you hum, watching as he plays with your fingers gently— your heart pounds and your body feels hot, but you find it in you to say your next words. “i love you katsu, you know that right?” he nods, still not looking up to meet your gaze. “i love you more than i should as a friend but—“
“you love the bird man more,” the blonde finishes for you, deep red eyes locking on you. it’s your turn to nod, squeezing his fingers in hopes that he doesn’t pull away or shut you out like he has done in the past. instead, a finger of his finds your chin to tilt your head up towards him— he brushes away the remanence of your tears from salt streaked skin and gives you a genuine, but small, smile. “we’re different to who we were back than, my feelings never changed and maybe i realised that too late. when you were with him i fucking wished he would fuck up so i could swoop in and take my shitty girl back...” bakugou pauses, pondering his next words. things like this were hard for him, he wasn’t necessarily the most open person in the world but for you; he often tried. “but i know now, that seeing you broken like this; because of him... it fucking hurts more than losing you to him.”
“katsuki,” you blubber, you don’t know what to say for now— but whatever comes to mind you know he’ll appreciate it. snuggling up to him, you shove your face into his chest once more and find yourself soothed by the scent of burning sugar that tickles your nose. “thank you.”
bakugou scoffs, rolling his eyes at you for what seems like the millionth time that night but doesn’t push you away. instead he pats your head, throwing his gaze to them he side. “whatever, now get off me so i can make us dinner.” a heavy blush dusts his cheeks once more, so you let up with a tiny smile as the pro hero heads over to his kitchen to cook for you both.
you watch him as he goes, shuffling around the kitchen— no one would have guessed that the pro hero ground zero was a phenomenal cook, but it was just one of those things. something special that you knew about katsuki bakugou, your little secret between two best friends. best friends who had been through the world and back, best friends who would do anything for each other.
and so you realised, as long as you had your best friend bakugo, everything would be just fine.
Tumblr media
⤷ TAGLIST: ✈️CLOSED
@underratedmage @darlingstudies @iambashfulperson @jqnposts @ih8beefnoodles @miniatureland @ozzy-bozzy @someweirdshitman @bro-vocaine @air-wreckaaa @xxangelofpunkrockxx @hyperkaiperrose @sailor-moons-butt @montechristos  @semiathleticnerdykid @headfirst-halo @sasukelore @patricia-ceballos @jadenyukis-bodypillow @leel-lol @bokutosuwus @moonlightaangel @atsumumu @cathy8taffy @sya-arts-blog @rosa-gamer @yuesphere @ela-ena @d3ad-b3at-b1tch @starry-yui @cowward​ @actuallyazriel​ @bunny-on-crack​ @yourlocalbabybird​ @moon-spirit-yue​ @chaichai-the-weeb​ @tuddles-on-ice​ @gomezuwu​ @loser-keiji​ @witcherydotcom​ @s4kurajima​ @nishinoya-is-baby​ @astroninaaa​ @witches-brewe​ @skyrina​ @underoosjae​ @darlingely​  @mirukosyn​ @peachpetalhoney​ @kayisweird​  
Tumblr media
514 notes · View notes
littlespaceporgs · 4 years ago
Text
for a second
pairing: kit fisto x reader word count: 2.2k warnings: language, references to O66, mild references to depression, i think that covers it? prompt: 11. Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.
a/n: when i started writing this, the intent was to be fluffy. and then i wrote it angsty. you're in for a ride with this one, dear reader. click here to read my other works!
Tumblr media
being a jedi must be hard you supposed. before the war, they seemed to just float on air, like butterflies in the forests of endor. ethereal beings, untethered from the ground, unattached to anyone who wasn’t their own. now, in wartime, they were down to planet, though not in the usual way.
the ones you knew seemed flat, heavy with burden. exhaustion and sadness seemed to follow them around, dangling off the back of their necks. jedi used to roam the streets of coruscant, going to schools to meet with children, waving and nodding at people on the streets. now if you did manage to see one, they kept their heads low, shielded by their hoods. the message they carried with their presence had changed in that sort of way also.
if, by some strange twist of chance, you looked into their eyes, they just looked so… tired. drained by constantly travelling to system after system, seeing and feeling so many losses. light and content smiles had long since been replaced with drawn frowns and the light they brought into the room disappeared.
you saw it in kit fisto mostly. he was a regular appearance in your apartment. regular in terms that he kept coming back, however infrequent his visits had become. there was an extra bagginess under his eyes that hadn’t been there three years ago. the first steps of the war hadn’t shaken him too much, besides the added exhaustion, but after nahdar, he quickly started reflecting the other masters.
every time the door slid opened you waited with bated breath, though you typically knew if it was him before you saw him. a subtle flick in the back of your mind, and a soft glide on the base of your neck, followed by a knock. he’d tried explaining it to you once. how the force can connect individuals no matter how far, almost creating invisible strings and ties to others. how if it was done right, emotions, thoughts, could be projected to another with clarity. you just knew that it meant that he was alive when a warm presence engulfed your mind, feeling like an old familiar sweater over the cold months, and made you take a deep breath and comfort you.
last night was no different, you weren’t expecting him back, but as soon as he brushed your mind again you knew. he’d half dragged himself through the door, he only waited for the door to close before drawing you in. one hand cupped the back of your head, pushing it into his chest, the other around your back, gripping the back of your cardigan. he hadn’t spoken a word, but just dropped his head on yours, eyes sliding shut. he hadn’t spoken much for the rest of the night, not beyond the quiet loves, or to say that he wasn’t going to be here for long.
now in the morning, you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet. you knew that once he was awake, and when he knew you were awake, he’d probably have to start getting ready to leave again. so selfishly, you refused to open your eyes. you could feel the sun slipping in, reminding you of a new day. it was warming your hand on his chest, and despite it shining directly on your face, you refused to move.
the bed shifted on your side, so you knew he had twisted around to face you, and his hand had scooped yours off his chest. warm lips lightly pressed against your knuckles, and you heard him inhale deeply.
“good morning,” his voice rumbles in your ears, gruff from sleep still. you sighed, and held onto hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to leave again. without opening your eyes, you stretched your neck upwards, in the general direction of where his face would be. he met you halfway, gently pressing his lips to yours. it was slow, and much too short for your liking, but he simply stayed with his forehead against your own.
“how’d you sleep?” you mumbled, and received a breathy, short laugh from the nautolan.
“much better than how I did when I was away.” you hummed in acknowledgement. you could feel his eyes tracing your face, smoothing out all the stress that had come as he left.
reluctantly, you blinked your eyes a few times, to rid yourself of the morning blur. one of his hands grazed along the side of your face, pushing the hair aside, tucking it behind your ear. he was finally wearing a smile, soft and lighting up his face, pushing the stress lines that had formed upwards. you stared into his eyes, admiring the familiarity. many things about him had changed, his eyes had not. though you didn’t want to ask it, in fear of what the answer would be, you needed to know how much time you could hold onto.
“when,” you sighed mid-sentence, “when do you have to go?” he closed his eyes, and his smile turned to a frown.
“I’m not sure, it will be soon though. the council will call me when I’m expected.” despite knowing that would likely be the answer, you still sighed. the disappointment must have been palpable as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. as you went to speak again, your breath caught in your chest. before you’d even realised it there was anger burning in your stomach, pricking at your eyes and stinging your throat.
it wasn’t fair.
he sat up, pulling you with him. idly you felt his hand on your cheekbone, tracing it down to your jaw and along your lip. as you started breathing heavily from your nose, there was a familiar tingle in the back of your mind. it did nothing to distract you.
it wasn’t fair.
it wasn’t fair to him. it wasn’t fair to the galaxy. it wasn’t fair to all the innocents that got wrapped up in this. it wasn’t fair to the world leaders. it wasn’t fair to the clones. it wasn’t fair to the jedi. it wasn’t fair to you. it wasn’t fair that it felt so cold here despite the warm sun outside.
you felt bad for thinking it. you knew it was selfish. that there were bigger things. but fuck, it wasn’t fair.
you deserved him being close. you deserved to have him home every night. you deserved to have amazing days in the sun with him, not hiding in the shadows and behind close windows. you deserved kit being present, a constant in your life, the one thing that would be sure through everything.
hell even he deserved more. he deserved to wake up in his own bed. he deserved to have his girlfriend by his side. he deserved the choice to leave the order when he was ready, not be thrown into war. he deserved to be able to smile every day.
it just wasn’t fair.
you wanted to relax into him again. to forget that he had to leave. you wanted to hold his face in your hands and plant kisses along his forehead, over the creases around his eyes.
instead, you stood up from the bed, pulling away from him. you wrapped his robe tighter around your body as you peaked through the crack in the curtains, looking over coruscant. it was light outside, a stark contrast to the interior of your home. though you couldn’t see it, you could feel him frowning.
the bed groaned when he stood, and was accompanied by his bare feet padding on the floor. he rested a hand on your shoulder and half pulled you towards him, though you averted your eyes and looked towards the floor.
“what’s going on?” you chewed on your lip, and tried your best to not look him in the face. you’d probably crumble.
he said your name, barely speaking. his hand on your face turned you back up to him. when you met his eyes, you could see the sadness that pooled there, and made your throat sting again.
“it’s not fair, kit. you shouldn’t have to be out fighting a war that you have no part in. you should be here with me, or, or sparring or even on an aide mission, not fighting a war!” the stress was eating you alive. you pulled your hands through your hair and tried to choke back the sob. gods you knew it was wrong, but fuck, the anger was sitting at the forefront of your mind.
his hand had drifted off your shoulder.
“I understand how you’re feeling,” an indignant part of your mind supplied a ‘no, you don’t’, the corner of his mouth twitched further downwards, and pulled a piece of your heart with it. “but there are people out there who need-”
“you think I don’t fucking know that, kit!” it was all spilling over now. a tidal wave that you had been holding back for months all crashing at once, you wanted to stop. please, just stop. but you couldn’t. it just kept going. didn’t he know you just wanted him to be safe? “it’s like you’re never here anymore! you don’t smile, I can’t even remember the last time you walked in here smiling!”
you were crying now, and you desperately wanted it to be over. fuck, please just shut your mouth. “and then when you are here, we don’t talk! we just sleep together, it’s like we’re not even in a relationship anymore! I get that you’re tired and that war sucks, really I do,” you pulled your hair again, taking another step back and taking a breath. his face looked even more drawn out then before, and his eyes seemed to droop. he looked like he was sinking into himself.
you tried to take another deep breath, but all that occurred was a shudder. “I know that people need yo-” a sharp chime came from the communicator on the table. there was no movement. you just kept staring at each other. you tried to blink some of the tears as he opened his mouth again. his lips only fell open however, but all you wanted to do was kiss him. you wanted to hold him so close, and all the anger had left was sadness and regret.
his mouth moved again and his chest heaved, and it looked like he was going to speak. and then the communicator beeped again. higher pitched and faster this time. his face turned between you and the communicator several times before it beeped again. he breathed out a short string of curses and made his way to the table. you could only turn back towards the sliver of light coming through the window. the ships in the sky twisting around each other felt like they were in your stomach.
“master fisto, your report to council is required.”
“when?” his voice was gravlier then usual, and he ran his hand down his face.
“as soon as possible, we have delayed the meeting as long as we can. we’re afraid this can’t wait any longer.”
“very well. I will be there shortly.” the apartment fell into silence again. the only sound was the occasional speeder zooming past outside. he opened his mouth to speak again.
“no, please just go, kit.” you cut him off, removing the outer robe from your form. you could only describe it as the tensest moment as he tentatively took it back. your mouth suddenly felt dry.
“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to...” his voice trailed off, and you swiped a sleeve along your eye. you know it's not his fault, you know that. you only nodded, but still couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the face.
“I know.”
he seemed like he wanted to say more. you knew that you wanted to. you wanted to take it back, but it didn’t seem like any of those things were going to happen.
“we’re going to talk about this as soon as the meeting is over, i-I promise.” he paused for a second, as if he were mulling over his next words. “I love you.”
you heard the door slide open, and you squeezed your eyes tighter.
“I know.” he made a few quiet sounds towards the door. then the rustling of a cloak as he pulled it over his tresses. he stopped in doorway, and for a second you didn’t think that he was going to leave. that he’ll stay. that he’ll com the jedi, saying that he’s not coming back. that you’ll both fix things. that you two can go off and help whoever needs it in your own way, together. together.
but it was just for that second.
for the second after, he took a step forwards and out of the apartment and door slid shut behind him. the warm feeling retreated from your mind, and left it cold and empty. now you let out the sobs that had been stuck in your chest, burning up. gods you should’ve said I love you back. you could still make it out the door, chase him down. but for whatever reason, you don’t.
3 hours later your own communicator pings from your desk. it was a short message. he was called away again, straight after the meeting. it was coruscant based so it hopefully wouldn’t be long. he said it was big, that the war will end, because they found the sith lord they had been searching for. he said that he would come home to you, and for a second, you saw a glimmer of hope on his face. he said 'I love you' and it seemed to linger through the recording. he said that everything was going to change.
nothing could have prepared you for what change would bring.
tags for my lovelies <3: @valkyrieofthehighfae @hounding-around @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @mcu-padawan @crxwblood @captainrexstan @anakin-danvers @queenevac @raeshin @venomous-ko @onabouteverything @leias-left-hair-bun @a-dorin
let me know if you want to be added/removed to/from the taglist!
104 notes · View notes
eternalstrigoii · 4 years ago
Text
Stuck On You
Borra x Dark Fey!reader (Cassia) as requested by @squishy-jellyfish for her birthday
                       The first time Borra tried to kiss you, he never fully reached your lips.
You dropped onto the mossy, mushroom-pocked earth at the edge of the forest with him at your side. Damp with mist from the jungle’s falls, your spread your wings to dry in the muted light of the midday sun. The veins of gold within your plumage glimmered like citrine. You thought, only half-heartedly, of the flowers he’d draped over your hair a handful of days before, and how this flight had to be some sort of repayment for your initial mistrust.
“I liked them, you know.”
“Hm?” His wings were larger than yours already, the desert’s strength at work. A shallow spider’s webbing of decorative marks had begun to form at the junction of his jaw, not far below his ear, and worked their way up toward the apple of his cheek. At sixteen, the boy who loved you was not nearly as lovely as he would become, though it was hardly a labor to look at him. He was lean – strong, but not yet hard-muscled, and not yet as tall or as broad as he would inevitably grow. His horns were not even as tall as they would end up being, though they were by no means unimpressive.
“The flowers. I liked the flowers you put in my hair.” You would’ve liked them better if he hadn’t pushed them through their whole lives so quickly.
“’M glad.” He stretched as though a few laps around the high caverns was some significant strain. His stomach flexed, and you did not realize your eyes lingered there until he rolled onto his elbow to face you. “I didn’t mean to run off on you.”
“It was alright.” Strange, but understandable. Shrike never let you live down the time the first time you grew papayas on your own, and how you’d offered up your spoils only to find out the hard way that they should’ve been left alone for at least a week longer.
It was not the first time he’d grown flowers, though. Even you knew that.
“That didn’t go the way I thought it would.”
You smiled at the canopy, for it blotted out the sight of the naked stone overhead. Every so often, you conjured the memory of your childhood foray out into the night with your father and your brother as though the imagined stars were sufficient in comparison. Borra would’ve appreciated it, had you not been sworn to silence lest word ever work its way back to your mother.
“Am I allowed to give you something else?”
You shrugged. You hadn’t asked for anything, let alone from him. His company was – increasingly, though you’d gone out of your way to avoid putting much thought into why – enough.
That wasn’t an answer. At least, it wasn’t the manner of answer he’d been hoping for. He regarded you in silence for a moment before drawing up onto his knees, as though that might’ve been sufficient display of his height and his breadth and his suitability.
But you disturbed those thoughts like a flock of starlings the moment they tried to land. Suitable. It could’ve made you laugh – he was more than suitable. And in far more ways than display suggested.
“Sit up and close your eyes.”
Oh, thank the Phoenix. Another stupid circlet of flowers. One he didn’t intend to kill, this time.
You huffed out a breath and made a show of rolling your eyes. It was a terrible inconvenience, being asked not to lie on the ground when he was already above you, but you supposed it could’ve been worse. He could’ve laid with you. Drawn closer to you. Rested his warm fingers along the apple of your cheek to keep your head still as he placed them on – carefully, delicately, so they wouldn’t fall into the dirt while you lay still. You imagined the intensity of his focus, the brightness of his eyes as he studied their precarious balance in hopes of steadying them without making you rise – and if you hadn’t had to flick the dirt off of your wings, you certainly never would’ve considered what the proximity warmth of his body might’ve felt like, as close to you as he would be.
You settled on your knees just as he had. Your feet were tucked neatly under you, and you folded your hands not far above the layered hem of your wrapped-skirt. (The dress your grandmother made for your birthday was the color of the sunset, she’d said – a slowly deepening orange that was nearly red where it skimmed the earth over your knees.)
“Close your eyes.”
A few days ago, all you’d been able to focus on were the times the child version of him had asked you to do the same only to drop a slithering wood-centipede down the back of your dress, or put a slug in your hands (as though you hadn’t retaliated by “forgetting” the field mouse you’d brought into the desert, only for it to turn up standing on his chest in the middle of the night. In retrospect, you might’ve been horrible children). What did a friend do if not exploit your trust when it was a safe enough occasion to do so?
Borra studied your face. He had to hold his breath intermittently to keep the wet sound of his beating heart from being the only sound in his ears. Memorizing the shape of your nose and the thin, feathery shadows your lashes cast over your cheeks no more helped than allowing his eyes to linger upon the softness of your lips. He opened his mouth to say something – to ask if this was welcome, warranted, acceptable – and then closed it again. The brush-stroke angle of your cheeks, the perfect leaf of your ear with your fluffy curls tucked behind it. Don’t just sit there, do something!
He leaned in.
It was funny how easily I love you touched the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it, even as the clasp of your fingers betrayed your tension. I love you. I’m sorry I ran away last time I tried to say it to you.
“Can I kiss you?” is what came out.
Your eyes fluttered open.
Yes. He was supposed to do more than ask for it, wasn’t he? Or was that too old-fashioned? It wasn’t like you needed him to build you a house (not at your age), go through some beautiful, elaborate display…
You nodded. Just a little. Then, just in case it hadn’t been enough, “Yes.”
He didn’t get any closer.
It wasn’t that he didn’t try – he tried. He tried twice before he realized what partial immobility meant, and, when he did, a familiar sort of fear widened and brightened his gemstone eyes. “Don’t ask why, but don’t move your head.”
Oh no.
Don’t ask why was a familiar precursor. Don’t ask why because something was on fire and sand was not sufficient dirt; don’t ask why Ini was tangled in fishing line – don’t ask where they got the fishing line, what happened to the fish, or how close they’d been to shore when they weren’t supposed to go anywhere near the sea-facing entrances, let alone beyond them. Don’t ask why was the graduation from childhood to adolescence, and you knew all too well what it meant.
“…are you stuck?”
Borra knew better than to give you an honest answer. He reached up, instead; felt for the difference between your horns and his, where you might’ve gotten caught up on each other, though you hadn’t the faintest idea how he managed to. His horns sat straight up, for Phoenix’s sake – yours were cocked back. It wasn’t like you were children anymore!
“…stand up slowly?” he replied. You didn’t point out that he had done no tugging – maybe it was as simple as easing back from a precarious position. Maybe you weren’t really—
You put your hands on his arms. Kept your head relatively level, and tried to draw back. There was a marked tug of resistance where, yes, one of his horns somehow managed to lodge in yours right at the curvature.
“Hold on.” He had you pause, as gentle as he could manage with his head cocked that way. “Let me—”
He pulled on his own no differently than he might try to dislodge a bothersome stone from a stream. Hard enough that it made him grunt, even, not that it accomplished anything. He tried to tilt his head, which caused a suspicious catching noise, and drew up off of his knees as though planting himself firmly on the dirt would change the circumstances. “Pull back as hard as you can.”
And if I snap them? you nearly asked. His, you meant, not that yours were in any less dangerous of a predicament. “Borra…”
“Trust me.”
It took him a moment to recognize that you were not pulling because you could’ve boiled him alive with the intensity of your eyes. He’d never actually seen you worried before. “And if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we come up with another plan, just pull.”
You did. You planted your feet and tugged your head backward, your wings flaring of their own accord. You nearly pulled him off the ground, even as you braced your hands on his shoulders. You cycled through a litany of frustrated thoughts that accomplished nothing – How? How does anyone do this? How did he not feel—?
“Ow, ow, ow, ow! You’ve got my hair – you’re pulling my hair!”
Borra let go of the base of your horns like he’d been burned. Damp earth soaked through the knees of his trousers and streaked his calves. That was one way to carry out a Bonding Ceremony. Your face warmed all the way to your chest. Stupid. Horribly, terribly, don’t-get-ahead-of-yourself stupid.
“Where’s your brother?”
And there went all of  your soft feelings, drained away like fresh rainwater in a desert afternoon. “I would rather be stuck like this for the rest of my life than let you ask him for help, you know that, don’t you?”
He did. Quite well, actually; he was as frequent a partner in disturbing your older brother as Shrike was, and had earned just as pestilent of a reputation.
“Didn’t know you were so fond of me.”
You had half a mind to push him back into the dirt, even if he’d take you with him. You could beat your wings. That might dislodge him, and offer rightful payback for teasing you at a time like this. (Or you could climb a tree, or onto his legs, to get your head into just the right angle to properly dislodge his horns from yours.)
No, not his legs. That was not how you wanted to postpone a kiss. Don’t think about – stop thinking about his legs!
A low, familiar whistle saved you from yourself. “Did we get carried away?” Shrike’s voice came from the canopy above, filled with amusement.
“Pull us apart.” You were trying to keep your voice level, as though the radiant heat from your face hadn’t begun to rival Borra’s natural warmth.
“Really?” she faux-sympathized. “That’s how it’s supposed to fit, you know. Though, you were supposed to aim a little lower—”
“Shrike!”
There was an unusual pinkness to his face. He went out of his way to avoid looking you in the eyes, and that was just fine with you. You hadn’t thought to stop and admire his legs before you were attached to one another, but now that you had, you certainly didn’t want to think about anything else. Especially not what was supposed to fit where, like that, lower than where you were already entangled. Stars above.
A sharp downdraft made your feathers ruffle. Shrike took her sweet time closing the distance between you, as though you couldn’t hear her steps veer toward Borra while she admired the state you’d managed to get yourselves into.
She clicked her tongue playfully, and you imagined she must’ve been shaking her head. Grinning like the owl that snatched up the field mouse. “I don’t know if I can do that, Cass.”
“Try.”
You thought the threat was implicit – try because we both have claws at the tips of our wings and you don’t – though you would be reduced to stabbing blindly, and it wouldn’t matter one bit if she moved out of range. If she was not your closest, dearest friend, you never would’ve been so harsh about it. (If Borra had not intended to kiss you, you probably would’ve done the same to him.)
You felt her grip the base of one of your horns, and assumed she had a firm grip on one of Borra’s. She gave you no warning at all, just started trying to pull you apart. Your feet were planted, and you could do nothing else but keep your head in line with his and wait.
Except waiting implied that she did not start shaking with laughter once the initial moment’s effort passed.
“This isn’t funny,” you tried, though you had grown a bit warmer and Borra, a bit pinker.
“Trust me, it is.” She let go of you for just a moment and concentrated on trying to pry Borra loose.
You wondered how many other people could see you. It was one thing if she did, Shrike was practically blood to you, but you couldn’t very well skim the trees with your periphery. If word never made it back toward your brother – stars knew that mention of him should’ve been enough to summon him with luck like this – you would consider your whole life a success.
“I can’t.” There was far too much delight in her voice for your liking. You had the nagging suspicion that she hadn’t tried very hard at all. “I can’t do it, I’d need a chisel. Conall!”
Your wing jerked before the second round of your father’s name managed to fully leave her mouth. You whacked her in the chest as forcefully as you could manage (though, considering your limited range of vision, you imagined that wasn’t particularly hard). “What are you doing?!”
“Conall!” She crossed her arm over her chest in self-defense. “Cass needs you!”
Mortification came over you like one of the sea’s cold waves. You froze, rooted in place as if your father might not know it was you, there, interlocked with Borra if you stood absolutely still. If Borra empathized, you couldn’t tell – you were rather preoccupied with searching the dirt for a magical fissure that might drop you into the center of the earth.
He didn’t. It was a more appealing alternative than calling out for Eche and Kalan; his friends knew why he’d turned down hunting in the high plains. He would much rather face your father with his intentions laid bare than look to his friends for help when Shrike was a shining example of the help he’d get.
She stood back at a safe distance and brushed the dampness from her lashes. Your face was as hot as Borra’s, and you’d stopped looking at each other as if that wasn’t the most obvious admission of guilt. She didn’t even watch your father land, only glanced away from you to revel in the confusion-turned-understanding that softened his springtime eyes and made you tug on your horns self-consciously.
“That will make it worse.” Thankfully, rather than ask, your father had the decency to address the situation at hand; he closed what little distance remained between him and the both of you, and if he noticed the impressions in the dirt where you’d dug in your heels or the dirt-streaks along Borra’s bare calves, he made no mention of them.
You felt him gently grip the mid-point of your horns, and presumed he did the same to Borra’s. “Lower your head a bit more.”
You both started to. There was an audible note of laughter in your father’s voice as he nudged your back with his wing. “No, not you, Cassia. You stand still.”
You and Borra were nearly eye-to-eye. At the sound of your name, his eyes flickered to your face as if instinct drew them there, and you became painfully aware of his proximity once again. So close. He had been so close to kissing you, and you were so close to wishing that he’d been able to. You’d had your hands on his chest, on his shoulders, and hadn’t thought to revel in touching him the way you had in his fingers as they settled against the back of your arm, just above your elbow. So close, but so far…
“Brace yourselves.” It was only a momentary warning. You didn’t need more than that. Borra dug his heels in, and you reached out to grasp his wrist just in case it wasn’t enough, and – with far less preface or flourish than you imagined – your father pulled you both loose for the second time.
“Thanks,” you muttered.
Your father rubbed his thumb over the inside of your still-growing horn, and then over the outside of the other. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, sir,” Borra muttered. His horns were not quite as smooth as yours, and he felt for fresh gouges in them. You never asked if he got the ones he had from roughhousing with the other desert boys, or if he woke up some days and they’d grown just long enough for him to misjudge the distance between his head and the door, but, in event you caused a fresh round of them, you looked his way apologetically, and barely resisted the urge to draw your lower lip in between your sharp teeth.
“Try to be more careful.” If there was any doubt in your mind that your father knew the circumstances of how you’d ended up interlocked, it certainly wasn’t long-lived. Your face heated, and Borra had the decency to make eye contact with the ground. “I won’t always be there to pull you two apart.”
Shrike’s lips quirked. She wanted so badly to point out that next time, you might not want to be pulled apart that she nearly risked the bodily harm to do it. Had your eyes not flashed with a dangerous sort of certainty, she would’ve.
Your father kept his amusement to himself. “You’re both welcome to stay. Dinner is nearly finished.”
“Shrike was just leaving,” you replied, a bit too quickly. Of all the people to be sacrificed, your closest friend knew precisely why you had, and still feigned loud and obvious offense.
“If she changes her mind,” he said nothing of Borra, nor did you.  There was a chance you would never say Borra’s name in front of your father ever again. “There will be room.”
You nodded, though you had no intention of encouraging the extended invitation.
Your father’s understanding bordered upon the supernatural to you, then, as though his courtship of your mother was as effortless as their established union. Never once did you consider that firsthand experience peeled back the translucent husk of pride over your shared embarrassment. You were just lucky you’d inherited his feathers, and didn’t have to molt into your adult colors the way your mother had – but that was a story he would save for another day.
Whichever of you would follow, he left to. Borra still thumbed his horns with a worried expression, and barely looked up from the ground. He didn’t dare ask if he was staying for dinner – he presumed you’d tell him one way or the other.
“Well, that was fun,” Shrike teased.
“I’m sorry,” Borra muttered. Entirely for you, he might add – no one else warranted apologizing to.
“You weren’t hurt, were you?” Your eyes finally lifted, and you might’ve touched the spots he’d been stroking if his face hadn’t turned a fair pink in reply.
“Everything’s attached.”
You nodded, and, again, reached up to stroke the places on yours where his were locked with them. There was no evidence that they had ever been; you would forget, eventually, that they ever were at all, yet that did not distract from the profoundly sacred feeling that they then possessed.
Two out of three of you were at a loss for words. You did not know how to improve the situation, so you lingered for a moment between them only to lean in without thinking. Your lips pressed to the apple of his cheek, soft and fleeting, and then you ran into the woods after your father, as though you’d heard your mother call for you well before she would’ve.
Borra’s golden eyes went wide. All of the mischief, mirth and bedevilment drained from his features like blood from an open wound. The touch of your lips came like the bite of an iron arrow, swift as an ambush and just as devastating.
Shrike whistled. “You’d thank her if she slapped you, wouldn’t you?”
For the first time, the boy who loved you did not rise to the bait. Your lips against his cheek had been almost precisely what he’d hoped for, though he had not expected initiative on your part. He had not expected anything at all. You could’ve laughed at him. Bit your lip in that worrying, familiar way as you lifted your vibrant eyes and told him that you were friends, no one felt that way about their friends. Or, as he had hoped before rotten luck intervened, you might let him kiss you. Might even kiss him back. Softly. Gently. As near to chaste as it would ever be, for he would let you lead. If you’d let him kiss you, he would’ve returned with another laurel of cactus flowers for your hair and kissed you until they bloomed. The brightness of their white-hued buds at the base of your horns, the vibrancy of their color in compliment to your springtime eyes, that was as far as he’d planned.
Because he loved you.
Wholly. Deeply. With everything that he was and everything he had.
You were his friend, and he loved you, and if you hadn’t felt the same – if you hadn’t been ready – he would’ve given you back the lead.
He hadn’t planned for what he might do if you had.
Shrike made a low, fond sound of disgust and flapped her brightly-colored wings in his direction. “Didn’t do enough gazing into her eyes when you were stuck with her?”
“Jealous you weren’t in my place?”
There he was, the sensible, snide Borra you’d grown up with. She never would’ve admitted how relieved she was to see that you two weren’t nearly as far gone as your parents. Yet.
A slow, borderline-wicked smile crossed Shrike’s face as she raised her chin. “You get what you ask for.”
The truth of it made his nerves spark like wildfire. He had, hadn’t he? And, though he didn’t dare ask for more, he looked off into the trees the way you’d gone. The place where your lips touched blazed the fiercest.
                                              ————————- Tag List: @fateischosen, @madlenfireknight, @boxxyass, @mor-ranr, @blacksirenswolf, @swim-reaper, @thetempleofthemasaigoddess, @deathonyourtongue, @squishy-jellyfish Message me if you’d like to be added to the tag list for future fics! Looking for more? Click my icon; there’s a masterlist!    
279 notes · View notes
talkfastromance4 · 5 years ago
Text
Baby You’re Worth It-- c.h
Tumblr media
Part 2 of this little oneshot
Based off the song Baby You’re Worth It by Kina and a little bit of Light headed by the same artist.
Word Count: 1909
Warnings: sexual tension and smut
Feedback is always welcome! I hope you enjoy! :)
Masterlist
• • • •
Calum zooms down the highway after pulling on a thin grey hoodie, the glow of the orange lights flash across his face and he feels like he’s driving towards the sun. He’s filled with nerves at seeing you again, and not by chance but by his own luck that you want to see him too. 
He didn’t even have to put your address in his phone, it was like a muscle memory in his feet. He just knew where to go because he’s been there a thousand times. Calum takes the exit and on the third left he turns. Fourth right and your place is his first stop on the right. 
He pauses for a half a moment to take a deep breath and gets out. Calum jogs up your walk and rings the doorbell. He shoves his hands in his joggers, inhaling the cool night air when thoughts tumble in his head that you changed your mind and the cops are on their way right now to drag him away. 
The door opens and Calum turns abruptly, his breath catches at the sight of you. You’re still in his empathy hoodie looking even more adorable in person than in the photo and as his eyes lowered he saw your bare legs. He gulps before shooting his eyes back to yours, oh how he’s missed those eyes. 
“Hi,” you greet softly and chew on your lip. 
A habit he knows you do all too well when you’re nervous, or when things were getting heated between you two--
“Hi,” he clears his throat and tries to clear the thoughts in his head. 
“You want to talk on my doorstep? It’s a little cold,” you tease and step aside. “Come on.”
Calum smiles. You’re teasing, your eyes are alight with mischief and it eases his nerves slightly as he steps inside. Your place smells just like he remembers, of you and some sort of flowery smell that always brought him comfort. 
You close the door behind him and Calum turns again to look at you. He can’t stop looking at you. Your hair is longer, your face has a new shine to it and he wonders if that’s from some new face mask you’re using or you just have a natural glow. 
“I made tea while I waited,” you point to the kitchen and you feel his gaze on you as you grab the two mugs on the half wall that separates your living room and the kitchen. A long time ago that’s where you’d put the wildflowers he’d buy you and it made your kitchen look like a mini rainforest. 
You take a deep breath before returning to him and hand him the mug. It’s light green with pink polka dots, it was his favorite mug to use when he’d spend the night. In the morning just as you were rousing awake he’d come shuffling in with this mug and your favorite (white with one solid black stripe) filled with coffee just how you liked it.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the cloaked peace offering. 
Your fingertips brush and your eyes flash to each other. You’re physically drawn to be closer to him just by looking in his eyes. Those damn brown eyes. You haven’t seen what you see in his with anyone else. 
Just as fast as that little spark happened, it’s gone and you’re motioning to the couch for him to take a seat. You tuck your left leg under your butt and place your mug on your right knee watching him take a drink. 
“You remembered the little bit of milk,” he comments.
“Of course I did,” you smile, “bit my head off whenever I’d forget.”
“I think you did it on purpose,” he smirks over the lip of the mug.
You’re hypnotized by the way his own lips suction to the edge of the mug, your eyes watch the way his throat works as he swallows and suddenly you’re very warm. Thoughts and memories of his lips on you makes your body tingle. You take a drink of your own tea to distract yourself and Calum sets his mug on the table then pulls his hoodie down.
You nearly spat out your tea and began to choke. 
“What? Are you okay?” he asks in alarm, hand suspended in the air between you two but he let it drop to the couch. 
“Your hair! It’s blond!” you manage to choke out between your coughs. 
“Oh, yeah it is,” he chuckles then cocks his head to the side to make sure you’re alright. “You’re not dying, right?”
“No, I’m good,” you nod.
Without thinking you lean over and take his blond curls on his forehead between your fingers. His hair still has the same thick texture that you love and when you realize what you’re doing your fingers freeze.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t--”
“It’s okay, keep doing it,” he tells you. The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip and you shift your eyes to look into his.
You haven’t been this close to him in so long. His musk makes your head dizzy and you can hear your heart beating erratically against your ribcage. 
“Did you mean what you . . . what you said on the phone?” you ask, voice trembling because of the close proximity to the man you still loved and in fear of his answer. 
His eyes stare into yours and it only makes you warmer, makes you crave his touch as he’s seeing all of you just like before. You wait in bated breath when you feel the calloused pads of his fingers hook behind your right knee to lower your leg across his lap, fingers running over the smooth skin. 
“Every word,” he finally answers and you let out a breath.
With careful hesitation you place your other hand on his round cheek, the one you always loved to kiss because of the three little moles near his lips. 
“It’s like a little trail to your mouth,” you’d told him in the early days of your relationship. 
“I’m still in love with you too,” you whisper.
“What I let happen between us,” he sighs, “wasn’t fair to you. I got too comfortable in our bubble and I wanted to protect you from the cruel comments.”
“I should’ve understood it more. I don’t want to lose any more years with you, Cal,” you tell him and your voice nearly breaks on his nickname. “You were the best thing to happen to me.”
“I’m not so perfect, baby,” he shakes his head. His fingers are dancing higher up your calf right behind your knee.
You pull lightly on his hair, another old habit you did when you needed him to listen to you. 
“Baby, yeah,” you nod leaning so close to him that your chest is touching his shoulder, “you’re worth it.”
In one swift motion, Calum shifts you onto his lap by the back of your knee. His hands drift under your hoodie and right onto your waist. You sigh at his touch and bite your lip anticipating his next move. 
“Come right here,” he mumbles and then he’s kissing you.
You kiss him back eagerly, fingers curling more in his hair and you adjust  your legs so you’re straddling him better. His hands are hot on your back, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts and he groans at the newfound realization that you’re bare underneath. 
You part his puffy lips with your tongue, curling it around his as his thumbs ghost over your nipples. You moan into his mouth and he crushes your body against his. You begin to grind yourself on his lap, you feel him harden beneath you and you’re so warm for him. 
“Take this off,” he whispers around your lips and pulls away just so he can tug your hoodie off. You fix your hair and he smiles at you. “I’ve been looking for that, you know.”
“Oops,” you shrug and yank on his own hoodie. Getting the notion, he helps you take it off and tosses it to the floor. “These are new, too . . .” your fingers trace over the new ink on his chest and his stomach. 
“These are just as perfect as I remember,” he teases and cups your breasts in his hands. 
You giggle as he wraps his mouth around your nipple and that giggle turns into a moan real quick. You continue to play with his hair, tilting your head back as he sucks on your breasts. And then you’re lying flat on your back with Calum pulling your panties down your legs. 
You let out a shaky sigh feeling his lips kiss down your stomach and he lifts your left leg over his shoulder while his other hand holds your right knee down on the floor. 
“Is this as perfect, too?” he asks, eyes flickering from your pussy to your face. You chew on your lip again.
“Maybe you should see.”
He gives you a devilish grin before placing his mouth over your core, his tongue is hot and slick as he rolls it between your folds. Your back arches instantly, fingers flying to his hair once more as he works  you over with his mouth. Calum alternates between sucking and licking, he does both so fast that it increases the stimulation. 
He removes his hand from your knee so he can spread your lips open and he’s sucking harshly on your clit. You moan out his name with a curse just as your orgasm bursts free.
“So good baby,” he sighs, releasing your clit with one last suck. 
Before you can protest you feel his tip press into you and you can’t help but move forward. Calum’s mouth is on yours, his whole body encasing you against his as he thrusts into you, inch by inch he stretches you open. With both of your breath shaky, when he finally slides all the way in you groan at the familiar yet all new feeling of him being inside you again. 
He stays there for a moment letting you adjust. 
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he moans into your neck and you rotate your hips beneath him. 
“I missed you too,” you sigh in his ear. “Now fuck me like you missed me.”
“Shit,” he hisses and pulls his hips back before thrusting right back. 
He picks up a rhythm easily and you’re thankful being rhythmic is in his profession. You love the way he feels gliding in and out of you easily, a hidden  force of just how much he missed you is noticeable in each push and pull. 
“Mmm,” he hums on your neck and he moves faster.
The faster he moves the faster you feel your tummy rolling. Soon you’re thrusting up into him, it’s messy and chaotic but it feels so good until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. 
“Fuck, feels so good when you come on me, baby,” Calum grunts and his motions become more erratic. 
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you’re whining as you ride out your orgasm as long as you can. 
Calum exhales heavily and pounds into you faster, faster, and faster until he pulls out and milks his own orgasm onto your belly. You’re throbbing for him and watch his hand pump himself onto you and your head is spinning. When he’s finished you tilt his head up by his cheeks and kiss him. 
“Stay right here.”
• • • •
Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @wokeupinjapanisabop @myloverboyash  @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @loverofmineabi @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @thesubtweeter @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @allier59 @calumhoodaf @baldcalum @philthepegacorn
418 notes · View notes
ghostofstudentspast · 4 years ago
Text
Cheers Love
Sirius x Reader
It’s been so long since I’ve written anything let alone for Sirius so please be nice. This one is for @nebulablakemurphy ‘s 500 celebration! I looooved writing this blurb, it’s good to be back to writing.
PROMPT: “I’m not drunk enough for this” WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption? Uh I didn’t even swear in this haha
It was not an uncommon sight for you to be slung over the sofa in James and Sirius’ apartment on a Friday night, drink in hand. The room was filled with chatter and music serving as the soundtrack to many a conversation. Remus and Peter were currently involved in a very heated game of exploding snap, loser having to finish his drink. A small crowd had propped themselves up to watch them play and several girls looked ready to challenge the winner to a match.
Across from you, Lilly was animatedly explaining her theory behind Patronuses and how they chose their form. Her legs were strewn across James’ lap who had one hand resting on her thigh lovingly.
“I’m just saying, there’s no way it’s a coincidence James is a stag while also having a stag Patronus…right? Y/N back me up here!” Lilly urged you as you sipped on your mixed drink.
“You make some really good points Lil,” you nodded along with a small smile as James tucked a strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. They were the sweetest couple you knew.
“I dunno Evans, we all know I’m a gorgeous hound and my Patronus is an ordinary black mutt,” Sirius dropped onto the sofa next to you with a dramatic sigh. You were forced to sit up straighter unless you wanted to spill your drink all over yourself.
“You’re a mutt in every way Black,” you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.
“Hey now, be careful, someone could take offense to that!” Sirius smirked at you and finished his drink while maintaining eye contact with you. A light flush warmed up your cheeks as he winked.
There was no denying that he was an attractive man. Even at school he had always been confident, flirtatious and clever. You’d never seen him in a relationship before, but you had seen a string of boys and girls alike leave his dorms the morning after a party. No one was immune to the charms of Sirius Black, including you, though you’d never admit it of course.
“I’m not drunk enough for this,” the man in question groaned from next to you and hid his face in your shoulder. You looked up to see what had caused this reaction and were met with James and Lilly completely wrapped up in each other, their lips glued together like their lives depended on it.
“Oh, come on,” you chuckled and patted his head, “I think it’s sweet. They’re willing to suffocate for each other!” you let out a soft laugh as your fingers raked through Sirius’ curls gently.
“Well, I wish they’d do it in James’ room,” he muttered under his breath, his tone was sharp, but his aristocratic features held a gentle smile. He plucked your glass from your hand and downed the rest of your drink.
“Hey! I was drinking that!” You exclaimed with a frown and stopped stroking his hair.
“Too slow,” Sirius grinned and stood up from the sofa. He grabbed your hand and tugged you up to stand beside him. You were almost entirely pressed to his side, you could smell his cologne as his arms circled around your waist to steady you, “let’s get us another drink then, love.”
Love. That one word sent shivers down your spine every time he said it to you. It was one of his many nicknames, but it was the one that made you weak in the knees every single time. With one hand on your lower back Sirius pushed the both of you through the small crowd in the living room and into the kitchen.
Sirius busied himself with your glasses, mixing ice, spirits and mixers easily. He was of course, a natural bartender. He pushed his shaggy black hair out of his eyes and licked his lips in concentration. He turned to face you, drink in hand and a proud grin on his face. He handed you a glass and his fingers grazed against yours. Sparks shot up your arm, just like every other time Sirius had touched you. Innocent, friendly touches that made you question your every move. No one ever electrified you the way Sirius did.
“Cheers Y/L/N,” he clinked his glass against yours with a smirk. You took a sip of your drink at the same time as he did.
The sounds of people laughing and talking fading into the background. The two of you secluded in the kitchen, Sirius was closer than you had thought. His eyes drawn to yours every time, there was no escaping the suffocating tension between you.
He stepped closer, placing his glass on the counter behind you, his arms caging you against the cold marble surface. Your breathing hitched as your wide eyes roamed his face, landing on his lips. His hand trailed up your arm and stopped only when he had reached your jaw. His thumb trailed across your lips and you let out a soft sigh.
“Y/N I-“ he leaned in and his lips touched yours ever so lightly. They were softer than you had imagined, gently coaxing you to respond. And respond you did. Your arms hooking around the back of his neck, hand sliding into his untameable hair. His hand still rested on your cheek, his other arm looping around your waist to pull you closer. Your body pressed against his, you felt him smile against your mouth.
“Hey Siri! Can you-ohoho,” James rounded the corner of the kitchen as the two of you sprung apart. “I was gonna ask you to round up the guests but uh…I can ask Remus,” James didn’t even try to hide his smirk as the two of you awkwardly leaned against opposite sides of the counter.
“No I can-“ Sirius started but James was already gone, no doubt on his way to tell Lilly what he saw. You covered your face with your hands, sure that your cheeks were impossibly red by now.
“Ohmygosh he’s never going to let us live that down,” you groaned into your hands and peeked through your fingers at Sirius.
“Let me take you out sometime.” His smile was soft, lips barely tilted up. He almost looked shy, maybe he was. “Properly, I’ll take you on a real date.”
“Sirius I-“
“Please Y/N, I really like you, it’s different with you, it always has been.” He tucked a strand of your hair back into place, his eyes wide like a puppy.
“If you would have let me finish,” you laugh and lightly swat his chest, “I would love to.” You grin up at him.
He kisses you again. Less gentle this time but you can still feel him smiling against your lips. You let out a small giggle in return and this only makes him kiss you harder. His hands travel to your hips and urge you onto the counter. You hop up willingly and he stands between your legs, hands squeezing your thighs gently.
“Yo Black- oh my god,” James walks back into the kitchen and covers his eyes.
“Is this going to be a habit Potter?” Sirius groans and pulls away from you to look at his friend.
“It won’t be, if you stop making out in shared spaces,” he whined and peeked between his fingers to see Sirius still holding your thighs, “you know what, goodnight Y/N!” he called and immediately darted back out of the kitchen.
You let out a fit of laughter and buried your face in Sirius’ chest. He chuckled along with you, his laugh grumbling through his chest and through you. It was warm and comfortable.
“A date, tomorrow?” you lifted you face to look him in the eye, hopeful.
“Tomorrow love,” He smiled and placed a soft kiss on your lips, “promise.”
146 notes · View notes
a-dorin · 5 years ago
Text
vulnerability - kylo ren
word count: 3,560
warnings: sexual tension, some cursing, use of guns/blasters, some innuendos, emotional trauma
hellloooooo! this is the second part of the little miniseries i have been working on! if there are any small mistakes in my terminology, i apologize! i am still getting familiar wit the star wars universe! please read the meeting before you read this one, as this is the second installment! 
first meeting - kylo ren
Tumblr media
you sat up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. your head throbbed slightly, which you assumed was from the lack of sleep. since you went to sleep so late and had to wake so early, your routine sleep schedule was thrown off. typically, you went to bed after midnight, and woke up late in the morning. it was early, as there was barely any light at all. swinging your legs to the edge of the bed, you got up, your vision slightly blurry. blearily, you found a light source, flicking it on.
there was a wardrobe to the right of the bed, which you assumed would have some sort of clothing for you to wear. surely kylo ren provided you with some robes. if not, you were screwed. you also hoped that there was a refresher attached to the quarters. dirt, sweat, and other grime covered your skin. you yearned to feel the hot water against your skin, washing away all that tainted your appearance. 
opening the doors of the wardrobe, you let out a gasp at the sight in front of you. inside, there were luxurious robes and garments, fabrics ranging from cotton to silk. you swallowed, surprised at how beautiful the clothing was. however, there was a silk black robe you were drawn to, adorned with red designs stitched into the hems. it was absolutely stunning. 
with the robe on your arm, you located the refresher. inside, there was a sonic shower, a rod for hanging clothes and a lavatory. you slipped out of your dirty clothes, discarding them to the floor. stepping into the sonic, you ensured that the water was hot. after bathing for several minutes, you remembered that you were meeting kylo ren for a meal. he was definitely a man who did not tolerate those who were late. 
after drying off with a towel, you put the robe on. with the bandeau you were wearing, the silk of the robe made your breasts look fuller. you felt a small smile form on your lips as you admired your appearance in a mirror. the robe provided you with a more regal appearance, almost one of a princess or queen. you let your hair hang loose on your shoulders. it suited the look. 
once you were finished getting ready, you slipped out the door of your quarters, careful not to wake jet. your droid was still sound asleep, recharging. light was beginning to fill the ship as you made your way to the dining hall. at this time, it was dead quiet. it was eerie yet peaceful at the same time. no wonder kylo ate so early. the quiet was nice. 
you entered the dining hall, kylo sitting at a table, his mask sitting beside him. he raised his brow when you sat across from him, taking a sip of water. 
“how did you sleep?” you widened your eyes. his voice was still thick with exhaustion, which made his voice an octave deeper. it was extremely attractive. 
“i slept well,” you picked at the eggs in front of you, “how about you?” 
kylo froze, his jaw clenching, “i didn’t sleep much.”
“why not?” you inquired, playing with your food. 
“do you think the supreme leader of the first order has time to sleep? who else is going to send out orders? who else is going to carry out the missions, the plans? my work as the supreme leader is extremely demanding. i would fucking appreciate it if you didn’t have that tone with me either,” kylo snarled, his voice raised. 
“i didn’t mean to-” you began, fear consuming your thoughts.
“bullshit,” kylo’s eyes were dark, “you’re a naive girl, (y/n). you’re lucky. i could kill you for acting this way in front of me.” 
you flinched, tears filling your eyes. you had no idea where this side of kylo was coming from. once kylo realized you were frozen with horror, the darkness left his eyes. he sighed, taking in a deep breath. you cried silently, the tears rolling down your cheeks. 
“i apologize for what just happened,” kylo glanced at the table, “i’ll call for yw-382 and yo-988 to escort you back to your quarters.” 
“you relieved them from their duties, remember?” your voice was soft. you locked eyes with kylo, and his tough exterior cracked. 
“i’ll escort you then,” he murmured, “if you have more of an appetite later, have one of the men fetch you food.” 
“are you sure you’re not going to kill me?” the question fell from your lips, and kylo was shocked. 
“i could never,” you could tell that kylo was frustrated. it was more so a self-loathing sort of frustration. he got up, offering you his hand, “let me escort you back, please.”
hesitantly, you got up, taking his hand. once you touched his hand, however, your vision was filled with a much different image. 
old memories flashed in front of you. the first was a young boy, with raven hair, surrounded by a woman and man. they walked through a city together, laughing. a large smile was on the boy’s face as the woman handed him a flower. the man picked him up, placing him on his soldiers. both the man and the woman’s faces were blurred, as if their faces were erased from the memory. 
another image whizzed by. it was the same boy, slightly older. this time, it was a man with him. they appeared to be training with one another, as they were practicing meditation. however, darkness began to envelop the boy, taking him into a deep hole. the boy screamed as he fell, the sound filling your ears. next, came kylo ren, adorned in his dark armor, his lightsaber crackling as he stood before dozens and dozens of soldiers. he began to kill them all mercilessly, their bodies falling to the snow. darkness consumed his aura, and he appeared to be unstoppable as he killed the men and women. it was horrifying. 
you squeezed your eyes shut, begging for the images to stop. they ceased, and you were brought back to reality. fresh tears stained your cheeks as you glanced up at kylo. 
his eyes searched yours, “what did you see?”
“i saw.. i saw y-you,” the words barely came out of your mouth, “oh, kylo.” 
his arms enveloped around you, hugging you tightly against him, “i’m so sorry, (y/n). you saw my past and i-.” 
“supreme leader,” a voice rang through the dining hall. 
kylo quickly stopped hugging you, his arms dropping to his sides, “general hux, what is it?”
the ginger general was solemn, his eyes shooting a hard glare at the two of you, “we have the overnight briefing to discuss. are you done meddling around with the girl or do you need more time?” 
rage consumed kylo’s face, “general, you are speaking out of line. that is no way to speak to your superior.” 
his exterior crumbled away under kylo’s tone, “i deeply apologize, supreme leader. my comment was out of line.” 
“i will be attending the briefing promptly,” kylo stated, his tone full of venom, “i have a more important duty first, however. i must escort (y/n) to her quarters since her guards are off-duty. unfortunately, i do not trust any of my generals to do it, including you, hux.” 
“i will inform the others,” it was easy to notice that  general hux was flustered as he stumbled over his words. he left the dining hall, practically almost running out of the doors. 
“i hate him,” kylo snorted, “he’s an imbecile.” 
“why don’t you promote someone else to take his place?” you asked, glancing at kylo. 
he shrugged, “he’s an idiot, but he’s one of the smarter idiots. he also obeys the orders of the dark side, which pleases me.” 
what else pleases you? was the question that immediately popped into your thoughts. luckily, it didn’t slip out of your mouth. 
the way you look at me. kylo entered your head, placing a hand on the top of your head. gently, he ran his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help but allow it, your appearance this morning as well. the robe suits you, and your hair is down. i cannot get over your beauty. it’s captivating. 
you blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “shall we get going since you have that meeting?” 
kylo nodded, picking his helmet up from the table, “i want to see you again. not this afternoon because of my duties, but perhaps around dinner. would you like that?” 
“can we meet alone again?” you bit your lip. a part of you couldn’t help but love the privacy the two of you got. it allowed you to see kylo, without the mask. it made him more human in your eyes. not some man corrupted by the forces of the dark side. 
“i can have that arranged,” he responded, opening the door for you, “how about i come to your quarters?” 
you widened your eyes, blushing once more, “bubba and phoenix might get the wrong idea.” 
you’d be moaning and they would get the message. kylo only smirked at you, and your face burned a bright red.
“it’s only to talk with you,” kylo reassured you, “plus, i would like to get to know your droid. what’s his name?” 
“his name is jet,” you murmured, feeling kylo’s hand brush against yours as you walked together. 
god, there was such a magnetic force between the two of you. you always wanted to be as close to him as possible, even when he made you angry. maybe your conversation last night was proving to be correct. maybe you both were meant to be together. 
when it came to romantic relationships, you were extremely guarded. you had been cheated on, several times. it was with your second boyfriend, who manipulated you over and over again so that you would take him back every time. he was a pilot for the resistance, and you were just a civilian, who happened to live in a town who favored the first order. however, it wasn’t like you had to sneak around when it came to poe. your neighbors were plenty friendly. 
yet, poe was charming, and incredibly handsome. it also helped that he was extremely intelligent. you didn’t miss him so much, but rather the memories the two of you shared. the final split among the two of you was only five months ago. the wounds poe left were still somewhat fresh, even though the breakup was mutual. all together, your relationship with him was about two and a half years. 
“you’re quiet,” kylo remarked, “something on your mind?” 
“you probably already know,” you snorted. 
“i’m not always in your head reading your thoughts, (y/n). that is a tad invasive,” he stated, his helmet still at his hip. 
you could sense his honesty, “i’m just thinking about some stuff.”
kylo only hummed in response, stopping at the entrance of your quarters, “if it is any help, i can answer any question you have later tonight.”
“when you come for a ‘private visit’?” you giggled, earning a small smile from the supreme leader. 
“yes,” he nodded, slipping on his mask, “i will be back tonight.”
“what time?” you asked, raising a brow.
“after the ten p.m. briefing,” he responded, “yo-988 and yw-382 should be on-duty around noon. can you manage until then?” 
now, light was filtering through the viewports of the corridor. you inferred it was about eight in the morning, “i should be okay for a few more hours.” 
“if you get bored,” kylo cleared his throat, “tell me.”
“how do i do that if you’re across the ship?” you whined, pouting slightly. 
“you know how,” kylo answered, placing a gloved hand on your cheek. his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “i’ll be anticipating our next meeting.” 
“i will be too,” you took his hand, kissing it gently. 
“what are you doing to me?” kylo’s voice was small. 
“i don’t know,” you murmured, gazing at his mask. you knew your eyes had met his. 
“supreme leader,” a captain yelled down the corridor, “we need you, it’s urgent!”
“fuck,” kylo cursed, turning to the captain, “what is it?” 
“there is a resistance ship on board,” she panted. you assumed they had her run across the finalizer to fetch kylo, “it’s the millennium falcon.”
kylo stiffened, “it’s him. get yo-988 and yw-382 over here, NOW!” 
“yes sir,” the captain saluted kylo, and spoke into her radio, “yo-988 & yw-382, we need you here with the girl.” 
“you called?” phoenix and bubba came sprinting down the corridor, “hey babes, did you miss us?” 
kylo scoffed, “do your fucking job, yo-988. (y/n), i have to go pursue the fugitive.” 
“we’ll keep her safe, sir,” bubba cleared his throat. 
“you fucking better,” kylo snarled, and began to walk away, following the captain. 
“who is it?” your voice was quiet. 
“on the ship?” phoenix turned to you, “oh just that pesky pilot. as long as he doesn’t have backup we’ll just keep him.” 
“are you gonna kill him?” you knew exactly who they were referring to. poe must have found you somehow. but why was he here? why now? 
“oh hell no,” bubba had his blaster in his hands, his finger set on the trigger, “we’ll just keep him. he would be a pretty important hostage. he knows so much information, and kylo can extract it out of him easily.” 
“oh,” you sucked in a breath. 
jet emerged from your quarters, whistling and beeping wildly. you sighed, “i know poe’s here.” 
the sounds of blasters echoed down the hall, along with the cries of fallen troopers. bodies thudded to the ground. you tensed, realizing that poe was closer than you initially thought. phoenix pulled another gun out from his hip, “you better get behind us, darlin’.”
“don’t kill him,” you could feel the tension building as your companions shielded you. 
“i’ll just take out his legs,” phoenix scoffed, “i can hear his footsteps. he’s about to come through the gate now.” 
poe entered through the gate, smirking when he noticed you were guarded, “thought i wouldn’t come lookin’ for ya babygirl?”
“you have a history with this buffoon?” bubba snorted.
“not recently,” you muttered. 
“recent enough,” poe rolled his eyes, “okay fellas. she needs to come with me.” 
“not gonna happen buddy,” phoenix’s tone was defensive. you noticed he made a gesture towards bubba with his hand, as if it was a signal. 
“i’ll just take her by force then,” poe smirked, pointing his blaster at phoenix. 
“you’re not gonna do that,” bubba retaliated, “at the range you’re at, the blast of the laser is going to hit me or my fellow soldier. we’ll stumble back, and thus crush (y/n) under the weight of our armor. you don’t want to do that, poe dameron. especially if you want her alive.”
poe stiffened, and you could tell he knew bubba was correct. he stood there for a moment, formulating a response. that’s when the sound of a blaster rang through the corridor, filling your ears. poe crumpled to the ground, unconscious. you felt a gasp leave your throat. 
“good job for calling his bluff,” phoenix patted bubba on the soldier, “some of these resistance soldiers are really fucking idiotic.” 
“how do you know this guy anyways?” bubba turned to you.
“he’s my ex-boyfriend,” you mumbled, feeling flustered.
“ah,” phoenix nodded, “so he was on a mission to woo you back, huh?”
“he’s not exactly the best boyfriend,” you sighed. 
jet whistled in agreement, and bubba chuckled, “yeah?”
“he’s an arrogant prick to tell you the truth, and a cheater,” a part of you felt relief that he wasn’t shot dead. you knew if they killed him, then there would be an even larger reason why the resistance would fighting. they would almost stop at nothing to avenge his death, even at the cost of their lives. 
“radio our superior,” phoenix nudged bubba, “inform him that we have the fugitive. he’s alive, but unconscious. should we just send him back?”
“we don’t know his true intent of his mission though,” bubba remarked, nudging poe slightly with his boot, “why he arrived on that ship, we don’t know. and we also aren’t aware if he has backup or not.” 
“i would just send him back,” phoenix retorted, “it seems like this was just a rogue mission.”
“it was,” poe coughed, stirring, “i only came back for her.”
“well she doesn’t want you back buddy,” phoenix teased, “she’s over you. she’s onto bigger and better things.”
“i thought me coming to save her would help show her how badly i missed her,” poe’s eyes met yours, and you blushed. he stood, dusting off his pants. phoenix stepped in front of you, protecting both you and jet.
“hate to tell you,” bubba aimed his stun gun at poe, “but no one likes cheaters.”
“poe dameron,” kylo boomed, entering the corridor, stormtroopers following him in suit, “i see you decided to stop by.”
“aw shit,” poe rolled his eyes, “of course.”
“i suggest you leave,” kylo stated, his tone menacing. 
“this your new boyfriend?” poe whipped his head towards you.
“no,” you muttered, glancing down at the ground. 
“he’s not exactly your type,” poe sneered, glancing at kylo, “i’ll leave, as long as you don’t track my ship.” 
“so childish,” kylo growled, “i will accept your terms, as long as you allow troopers to escort you out.” 
“god this is embarrassing,” poe sighed, throwing his hands up, “okay, okay, i’ll leave. and i won’t kill any more of your men either.”
“you’re lucky i am kind enough not to kill you, or even hold you hostage,” kylo retorted, “i know what the resistance is planning. our time will come, poe dameron. the resistance, the girl, and you, will all die. the first order will rule the galaxy.”
poe’s jaw clenched, “at least i don’t slaughter my own blood. or thousands of innocent civilians. i hope you know how much blood you’ve spilled, ben solo.” 
kylo stood motionless as three troopers escorted poe down the hall, the only sound made was their boots against the marble. bubba cleared his throat, motioning for phoenix to exit with the troopers. they left the corridor, leaving you and kylo alone. 
“are you okay?” your tone was gentle.
“i don’t care about what he said,” kylo was still tense, “the thing i do care about is how badly he’s scarred you.” 
you glanced down to the floor once more, tears brimming your eyes, “how do you know?”
“i could see it in your eyes when he stood in front of you,” kylo answered, stepping towards you, “i could see the hurt, the trauma. how he ripped your heart out and tore it to pieces. he’s a filthy fucking excuse for a man. after what he did to you, i’m surprised you let me touch you.”
“you’re different. you’re not him,” the words could barely escape your lips. 
“i’m glad you think about me in that way,” kylo’s voice was delicate. as you stared down at the cold black marble, you could hear kylo taking off his mask. it thudded to the floor, making the room echo with a loud clang. 
he took off his gloves, gently tilting your chin up towards him, “i don’t want to make you feel anything that he ever made you feel. i couldn’t hurt you like that, (y/n). i already hate myself. if something happened to you, i don’t know what i would do. do you trust me?”
you nodded, and the pad of kylo’s thumbs wiped away your tears, “i trust you, kylo. more than i should. i don’t know why but i just want you.”
“it’s our bond,” kylo murmured, “we have a very unique bond. nothing can break it.”
“is it the force?” (y/e/c) eyes met his, searching for the answer in his brown depths. 
he nodded, “it is.” 
“i want to know more about it,” you stated, “i need to know everything.” 
“you will, in time,” kylo promised, “god, you’re so beautiful.”
you swallowed, feeling your heart skip a beat. the intensity between you and kylo was becoming too much to bear. his rich brown eyes were soft pools, filled with flecks of gold. hesitantly, you placed your hand on his cheek, gently tracing down the length of his scar. his jaw clenched at the feeling, and you figured it was instinct. no soul had ever been this close to kylo. no soul ever connected with his as strongly as yours did. 
he didn’t even know to respond. the way you looked at him drove him crazy. when your soft fingers grazed down his cheek, his breath hitched in his throat. the energy amongst the two of you was driving him crazy. he longed to touch you, to feel you, to make you feel loved. the way you deserved to be loved and praised. 
“i can’t take it anymore,” he shook his head. 
his lips met yours, kissing you passionately. his hands held onto your face as you kissed him back with the same intensity. 
the supreme leader of the first order, the man all in the galaxy feared, kylo ren, melted under the touch of your soft lips.
@lokilover-39  @bqbyl0n​  @lookinsidemyhead​
455 notes · View notes
90slevi · 4 years ago
Text
First Date {Denki Kaminari x Reader}
Tumblr media
Finally some wholesome fluff because why not? And who better to write fluff about that our Denki Kaminari? :)
Kaminari was shaking.
Not with fear or anything, but because he was excited. And nervous, of course, but mainly excited.
Ever since he'd left U.A to become a pro-hero, he'd had no time to go out looking for relationships or start dating, but now he had more time on his hands, he'd finally met someone online. Someone who wouldn't use him for a free meal or someone who'd use him for money and fame. Finally, he'd met someone who seemed to genuinely like him for who he was, and he couldn't be more excited as he sat in the half-full cafe, his phone in his hand as he messaged his best friend about the new girl he was just about to meet for the ninth time that day.
Nibbling on his thumb, he looked out of the large window beside him as people walked past, looking for the kind face he'd seen in many pictures and in one call. Yes, he'd only called you once, and it'd lasted over four hours as the two of you bonded over music, heroes, comic books and more interests of yours. As Kaminari thought about you more, the more excited he became; the butterflies in his stomach became heavier and heavier, and he was waiting for the cafe door to open so the weight on his shoulders could disappear.
You felt just as excited.
Focusing on your studies at a regular, non-hero school had been tough, and you'd spent so many nights revising that you hadn't had chance to jump into the dating scheme, and now you'd met the perfect person.
Denki Kaminari, the current 19th Pro-Hero with lightning-blonde hair and a contagious smile that made your heart race, was the man you'd started talking to. He was a man not only with an attractive face, but he had the sweetest personality too, something you focused on so much more. He was incredibly funny, most of the time unintentionally, and had a heart of gold, even sending you a cute little letter in the mail with a box of pocky as a gift only two weeks after messaging you. When he asked you on a date, there was no way in hell you were denying him. You even called up sick to your job just so you could go meet him, which wasn't something he needed to know.
As you walked down the street towards the cafe you were supposed to meet him in, you checked your watch and panicked. Five minutes late. Again. Picking up the pace, you held your bag close to your chest and adjusted your skirt so it wasn't rising, and finally met the entrance, praying to whoever that you'd come to the right place. Pushing open the door, you walked inside, the sweet, warm smells of blueberry muffins and strawberry jam hit your nostrils, and you couldn't help but become rather giddy.
Quickly, you scanned the cafe. It had a really pretty interior, with modern, brown and beige walls and large mirrors and windows. Vintage picture frames hung as decoration and a few realistic plants were sitting on a shelf on the far right. Tables were set neatly in rows, with couples and families sitting on almost all of them. Nibbling your thumb, you stood on your toes, looking for the familiar tuft of blonde hair that belonged to Kaminari, and when you saw him, your heart almost stopped.
He wasn't looking up; instead, he had his nose in one of the menus, presumably ordering a drink for himself before you arrived, and you rushed enthusiastically over, catching his attention instantly.
His hazel eyes lit up, and he waved happily as you arrived at the table. Standing up, he was unsure of what to do. He really wanted to hug you, but he had no idea what your boundaries were and he didn't want to overstep them already. Handshake? No, that's stupid. High-five? Completely out of the question.
Thankfully, you caught on to his mini-dilemma and pulled him into a hug, his arms wrapping around your shoulders for a few seconds before pulling away. You gave him a quick squeeze before sitting down, dropping your bag beside you and beaming.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" Kaminari said, a hint of pink appearing on his cheeks as he admired you. "You look so pretty!"
"Thank you!" you grinned, clapping your hands together at the compliment. "You look lovely too. And yeah, I got a little nervous that I'd come to the wrong place, but I'm here now! Say, how long have you been here for?"
"Only ten minutes, don't worry," he answered, and you quickly apologised for being late. "Hey! Don't worry about it! I usually get here a little early, anyway."
"Ah, so someone's eager," you joked, giggling as he became flustered. "Don't worry, you're not the only one."
His eyes lit up, and his smile seemed to be uncontrollable at this point. As mentioned before, you found his grin extremely contagious, and you couldn't help but return it as you glanced towards the menu put in front of you.
"What made you choose this place?" you asked, cocking your head at him as you glanced towards the drinks, becoming interested in the unique cocktails and milkshakes the cafe made. One that really attracted your eye was a vanilla milkshake that had a dollop of strawberry ice-cream on top with a swirl of whipped cream and marshmallows, and it seemed to peak Kaminari's curiosity too.
"Well, two of my friends bought their dates here, and they ended up getting together in the end, so why not give it a shot?" he said, and you chuckled at his explanation. You were so glad he was just as eager as you were about him, and you prayed this all went well because he was probably the sweetest guy you'd ever met. "Ah, sorry, was that a bit too up-front?"
"No, I feel the same," you grinned, trying your best to comfort the poor guy. He seemed to be trying his best but couldn't help himself from rushing, and you couldn't blame him. He was a single pro-hero, while all his other friends were in relationships and one or two even married. "It's nice to be honest!"
"Heh, I'm glad you think that, because from what I've heard, other girls think it's weird," Kaminari chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well, you've clearly not met many girls who like you for who you are," you beamed, and his eyes, once again, lit up in excitement. "But I do, so hello!"
Kaminari was completely and utterly in love.
However, before their conversations could continue, a waitress wandered over, wearing the cute uniform you used to wear before beginning a different job. A cute, light brown blouse and black trousers with a beige apron over the top was the perfect uniform, at least in your eyes.
"Good evening, guys!" the woman said enthusiastically, a wide smile on her face as she held a clipboard in her hands. "May I take your drink orders?"
"Sure!" Kaminari replied, glancing over to you to make sure you were ready. However, to give you a tiny bit more time, he decided to speak first. "I'll take the iced coffee with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice-cream, please!"
"And you?" the waitress asked politely to you as she wrote down Kaminari's drink. You pouted as you read one of the options you were particularly drawn to, and the blonde couldn't help but watch at the cute things you did without realising it.
When he'd called you for the first time, he'd picked up on so many of your adorable mannerisms that even you yourself hadn't noticed, and he couldn't help but poke fun of you every time you did them. Now, he had found another to tease you about, and he couldn't wait to see your pretty reaction to it.
"I'll have this!" you said, pointing to the name you struggled to pronounce. The waitress glanced over and nodded, noting it down. It was the vanilla milkshake you'd spotted earlier, and you thanked her as she walked away. "Yo, how the hell do you say that?!"
Kaminari looked over, his eyebrows furrowed, and he almost snorted at the funny spelling. "You're asking the one who had dyslexia, Y/n. I have absolutely no idea what that says."
Grimacing, you wondered why the hell you'd chosen the drink you couldn't say, but thankfully you'd saved yourself from embarrassment by NOT saying it. However, Kaminari had a smug grin on his face, and you cocked your head at him in confusion.
"Y'know how I was making fun of you for sticking your tongue out when you write the other day?" he asked, and you nodded slowly, hoping to dear God you didn't just do that. "Well, you pouted when you read the menu, and it was probably the cutest thing ever."
"Oh no!" you complained, a laugh escaping your lips as you buried your face into your hands. Kaminari joined in with your laughter, watching as the tips of your ears went pink. "You're joking! I haven't done that since I was a damn kid!"
"Well, you've done it again," Kaminari grinned, glad he'd bought it up just to see your reaction. "And I love it!"
About an hour and a half passed, the two of you joking around and laughing as you ordered meals and deserts. You completely adored the guy, his optimism, positivity, and enthusiasm rubbing off on you so much that you now had a better outlook on life. He constantly threw cheesy pick-up lines at you that you'd expect to hear in middle-school, but at the same time, it was refreshing and fun instead of completely cringy, and at one point, you played footsie under the table to the point where you hit your ankle on the table leg so badly you audibly said ouch. He didn't even judge you when you dropped food on your shirt and cursed a little loudly by accident, instead laughing with you and grabbing a tissue as quickly as possible so it hopefully didn't stain your shirt.
And, because you were having so much fun, you didn't notice it get dark outside.
"Oh sugar," you muttered suddenly, glancing outside the window as the sun passed the horizon and the sky went from a light blue and orange to navy blue and purple. You gulped, becoming rather nervous, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Kaminari noticed your sudden change in attitude, and he took your hand in concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely caring.
"It's getting dark," you answered, nibbling on your finger. "And I walked here... I don't fancy getting attacked by a villain."
"I can always walk you home if you need it," Kaminari offered, and you looked at him guiltily, not wanting him to go all the way to your house as it'd take him longer to get home. "Y/n, if it means spending more time with you, then I really don't mind. In fact, I'd love that!"
Pink spread across your cheeks at the flirtatious compliment, and you nodded gently. Although you still felt pretty guilty, you wanted to spend more time with the guy, and that gave you a giddiness you hadn't felt since you were a teenager. That same giddiness you'd felt after falling in love for the first time. Hopefully, this time, you wouldn't be completely crushed.
"Split the bill?" you asked Kaminari, and he raised an eyebrow.
"I was gonna pay the whole thing!"
"Absolutely not!" you exclaimed, pulling your purse out of your bag and rummaging around for your card. "I'll pay exactly half. It's only fair, right?"
"If you insist," the blonde chuckled, taking out his own card and paying at the bar, where the same waitress was standing. You wandered over and did the same, pulling your jacket over your shoulders and eventually putting your card back in your bag. The two of you bid your farewells to the cafe owners, before wandering down the dark street.
It was obvious you were nervous, and with good reason, too. Only a year ago, you'd been walking alone from a friend's house and been attacked by a villain, who'd not only assaulted you but stole your bag too. It'd left you both traumatised and terrified of being alone in the dark, so it was suitable for Kaminari to offer to walk you home. He'd known this since the call you'd had, which you'd accidentally blurted out your deepest secret of having a fear of the dark. Of course, it was only natural for him to ask why, and you explained the whole story.
If anyone tried to hurt you, he'd absolutely tear them to shreds.
As the two of you walked, your hands eventually interlocked, your fingers linking with his as a cool autumn breeze danced around your body, leaving small goosebumps on your skin. A happy smile appeared on Kaminari's face as he gave your hand a squeeze, and you returned the little gesture.
"So, how far away is your house?" he asked, and you pointed down the street you were on.
"You go down there, turn left, and take another right," you explained, and he nodded. "It's not too far, about a ten-minute walk, but it's still a little scary."
"Yeah, I wasn't the biggest fan of the dark when I was younger," Kaminari chuckled, glancing down an alleyway as the two of you passed it. Since he became a professional hero within the top twenty ranks, he'd clearly become much more aware of his surroundings and even a little paranoid, praying he wasn't going to be ambushed. He had of course warned you of the dangers of dating a pro-hero, but you really didn't care. Whether he was a pro-hero or not, you loved him a lot. "And my house was right next to U.A, so it was pretty ridiculous!"
You giggled, imagining what Kaminari was like when he was younger. You'd been told by one of his friends that he'd been a total flirt and a bit of an idiot, and you saw that he hadn't exactly changed much. Which was good, because he was definitely your type.
Eventually, you reached your house with no problem at all. At one point, he'd let a small spark of electricity emit from his hand to light the way when you became particularly nervous passing the same alleyway you'd been assaulted in, but you sighed with relief when you entered your warm home.
"Thank you so much for the amazing evening," you beamed, and Kaminari grinned.
"It's honestly been such a great day, so thank YOU," he replied, and you smiled at his comments. "I really hope you're free tomorrow because I've got some free time that afternoon and I'd love to call you again."
"I can make time if you'd like," you chuckled, and his smile grew. "I should finish work at about 4pm."
"That's great! I think I finish at about 5, so we can call if you want!" Kaminari exclaimed enthusiastically, and at that moment, something just took over.
You kissed him.
Your lips met his so suddenly that the blonde was in so much shock to even move, but once he realised what was going on, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed into the kiss, his slightly chapped yet perfectly-shaped lips merging with yours. And, once you pulled away, he gave you a quick peck on the forehead for good measure. Your face was pink, surprised with what you'd done, and so was Kaminari.
"Well, I'll be seeing you tomorrow," he said, making you laugh. "Have a great night, Y/n."
"You too, Denki!" you beamed, waving as he left the premises. “Get home safely, and sleep well!”
25 notes · View notes
cyi-can-you-imagine · 5 years ago
Text
Starved - Chapter 16
Chapter 16 – Scar
 Sam didn’t eat, but he hid it well. When Dean disappeared into the kitchen, he ripped off parts of the cheese sandwich and shoved them in the cushions of the couch. He grabbed the shawl that was draped over the armrest and poured half of the soup into it, shoving it under the cushions. That would make it seem as if he had eaten as least some of it, he thought.  
 Sam knew three weeks was the longest a human could go without eating. Sometimes his dad starved him for a week, maybe. Week and a half once or twice. But never longer than that. Sam was used to no food. And he was ready to go the distance with this one. He couldn’t let his brother die.
But Sam was patient. He’d been through worse. He could do this. Then all the pain would go away forever.
All he had to do was wait. He hoped he went in his sleep, though he knew hunger would likely be painful the last day or so anyway. He was at peace with his decision.
***
Two days later, as Dean snuggled close to Sam and pulled the blankets up, a handful of hardened sandwiches and crumbs tumbled out of the tucked in sheets. Sam froze. Dean sat up quickly, his expression turning quickly accusatory. He grabbed the stale bread and waved it at his brother.
“Sam? What the hell? Are you – having you been hiding food? Have you eaten anything at all?” His voice rose as he spoke and Sam shrunk back into the bed, clearly terrified.
“I’m sorry! I – didn’t – I couldn’t – please don’t hit me, please!” 
“Sam?” Dean dropped the bread and immediately softened his posture. He lowered his voice and leaned forward, putting his face close to his brother’s, their lips almost touching. “Oh god I’m so sorry. I’m – I shouldn’t have raised my voice, I’m sorry baby. I never ever, ever will hurt you. Ever. I swear, I promise. I love you so much.”
Sam, still trembling, his lower lip quivering, nodded, tears falling from closed eyes. Dean kissed them away and tucked Sam’s hair behind his ears.
“I l-love you t-too, Dean.” Sam whispered.
Dean lowered his lips to Sam’s, but Sam did not respond. He could feel Sam tense beneath him. Dean closed his eyes and understood. He lifted his head back to give Sam space, but he found himself pulled closer again. Sam’s hand rested on the back of Dean’s neck, holding him still. He sobbed quietly as he brought Dean’s face back to his.
“Please, Dean.”
“Are you sure, Sam?”
“P-please.”
Dean pressed his lips down gently. Sam slowly opened to him. Their lips slid together, their tongues teasing each other. Sam arched his back into Dean’s embrace, falling deeper and deeper into the kiss. It was when Dean wrapped his arms around Sam completely that their passion exploded. Months of pent up loss and desperation poured out of both of them. Sam clung to Dean as if he were a life preserver in the middle of the ocean. Dean couldn’t get enough of Sam, he wanted to simply devour him.
“Hang on baby,” said Dean as he pulled out of his brother’s embrace.
Sam whimpered when Dean moved away, reaching out for him, but Dean playfully pushed Sam’s hands away.
“Just getting the light, baby…Gotta get this right. Get you calm and loose for me.” Sam’s breath hitched, his toes involuntarily curling tightly around the sheets.
Dean turned off the light and padded over to the bed in the dark. The only light came from the window, the moon filtering in through the sheer curtains.
God Sam was beautiful.
Dean bent over the bed, his hands cupping Sam’s cheeks. “Sam,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering close. “You are the only one for me, you know that, right?” Sam nodded and tilted his head to the side, inviting Dean in. Dean’s lips pressed gently onto Sam’s warm skin. They slid across Sam’s neck as he nibbled his way up and rolled his tongue across and up over the whorl of Sam’s earlobe. Sam moaned loudly in pleasure.
“Shh, baby. We don’t want Bobby to hear, ok?”
“Bobby knows,” Sam whispered back.
“I know he knows, Sammy…but I don’t think he wants to hear, alright?” Dean laughed. “Can you be quiet for me, baby?”
A soft smile appeared on Sam’s lips as he closed his eyes.
“Yeah, Dean. For you, I can.”
Dean made sure to take great care, gently lifting his brother’s injured arm to rest above his head, pressing down once on his wrist before letting go. The meaning was understood. Sam’s breath trembled. Dean then carefully lifted and moved Sam’s knee to the side, once again pressing gentle, oh so gentle.
Sam let him.
***
Panting and sweaty, their bodies sliding slowly against each other, the boys clung desperately. They pulled and grabbed, never getting close enough, their kisses never deep enough. It was almost like the first time, Dean thought. So powerful, so tender, he felt his soul would burst and dissipate into the universe. His body shook with pleasure right along with Sam, and they sighed together in each other’s arms. 
He wrapped his arms around Sam and held him closely, never wanting to let go.
No words were spoken. Sam turned away from Dean, pulling his brother’s arms around him from behind. Dean heard him sobbing softly.
“Sam?”
“It’s – it’s ok, Dean. I promise. It’s just so – please just hold me, ok?” Sam snuggled back and Dean pulled him in as far as he could. Perfect fit, he thought as Sam’s breathing slowly became deep and heavy.
Dean just held him, kissing his temple over and over again, his hands running softly through Sam’s hair. This was right. This was so right. He had missed this. Finally, finally, it was back.
Dean carefully removed himself from under his brother. As Sam rolled over, his shoulder twitched once, then he remained still and peaceful. His eyelids did not flutter. His breath did not hitch. He was still. The nightmares were gone, at least for now, and that was good enough. Dean kissed Sam’s forehead softly. He got up and tucked the sheets around his sleeping brother. He dressed slowly, watching Sam the whole time, before he headed downstairs, quietly closing the door behind him.
***
Sam woke several hours later and joined Dean in the living room, kissing him gently on the cheek. Dean looked up at him with soft eyes.
“Made a turkey sandwich, baby brother. Want some? Maybe?”
Sam shook his head sadly. Dean didn’t push.
“Ok, maybe later then. It’s ok.” Dean smiled and reached up to pull Sam’s mouth closer, when he heard Bobby muttering in the kitchen, footsteps headed this way. Sam pulled back.
Bobby came into the room, carrying a scrap of paper. He looked like a man that had just been given bad news.
“Bobby?” asked Dean.
Bobby’s eyes never left the paper as he paced around the living room. Sam and Dean watched him for several seconds before Dean reached out and grabbed Bobby’s arm, stopping him.
“Bobby. Yo. What’s up?” Dean’s voice showed his anxiousness. Bobby looked to Sam first.
“I just heard from by boys about your dad.” Dean’s fingers twitched involuntarily.
“And? Did they burn the fucker? Or hopefully toss him in a dumpster where he’ll just end up rotting away?”
“No Dean, they burned him. But they had to. One of them wanted his jacket, and when he took it off, your dad’s shirt ripped. They found this symbol carved into his shoulder.”
Bobby handed Dean the scrap of paper. It had a strange symbol drawn on it. Sam squinted curiously. It looked…familiar.
“You said – carved?” Sam asked, a shiver running through him.
“Yeah. Boys said it was really deep too. Already completely scarred over, though, so he got it maybe a year ago. Right around the time he – the time took you, Sam.”
But Sam just stared at the paper. He did not respond.
“So what? What does it mean?” asked Dean, confused. “Why should I care about a fucking scar on his fucking shoulder?”
Bobby took a deep breath, pausing before he spoke. “It’s a dark magic symbol, Dean. It’s a curse. Your father was cursed.” Another pause. “And here’s the kicker, boys. As soon as they lit that pyre, the scar disappeared.”
Dean was dumbfounded. Bobby’s words burned in his ears. He opened his mouth, but no words would form.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“What kind of curse?” Dean finally managed through nearly clenched teeth.
“No idea. But I’m gonna find out.” He took the paper from Dean and walked out.
“Dean…” Sam plopped down on the couch next to his brother. He held out his hand, palm up, and Dean took it, interlacing their fingers. They sat together in silence, breathing in tandem.
Sam reached his free hand up and rubbed at a stinging sensation in his left shoulder. He’d been feeling it since he woke up. Probably a tweaked muscle.
At the same moment, Sam looked down at the turkey sandwich his brother had made. And without a word, he leaned forward, picked up the sandwich, and took a bite.
Taglist:
@charliebradbury1104, @sammys-dimpless, @adsp-wincestj2, @vania-montoya, @ netaelex,   @bobbie3939 @mtngirlforever  @dontknowmyname215 @j2sunflowerbaby
 @debvic78 - I can’t tag you! :(
If you’d like to be added, let me know.!
41 notes · View notes
svubloods · 6 years ago
Text
Imagine having a One Night Stand with Peter only to find out he’s the new ADA
Tumblr media
(A/N: Editing later so enjoy this long ass mess while you can. It’s 4:00am and I need to sleep. Obvivosuly Peter won. I’m worried that I can do his character well, let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy regardless of how shitty it is) 
RATING: Not NSFW but sexual and suggestive throughout
Imagine having a One Night Stand with Peter only to find out he’s the new ADA
"You don't do this often, do you?" You inquired, straightening up and turning to look at him directly.
"What makes you think that?" He countered.
"Just a hunch," You shrugged, walking towards him and leaning casually against the footboard of the bed, that he was still laying in, watching you.
In the moment you had almost forgotten that you were still naked from the waist up. The only thing you were wearing was your underwear with your pants in your hands. You had forgotten about that but it was clear he hadn't. He paused before speaking again, giving you the once over.
"Well um..." He stuttered, gulping as he struggled to avert his gaze from your chest to your eyes, much to your enjoyment, "Not exactly but definitely more recently,"
"And here I thought I was special," You sighed dramatically, faking disappointment before turning away and once again going yo look for yesterday's clothing that were scattered across the floor.
"What no? I just meant..." He began to splutter.
"Relax, I'm just messing with you... " You eased, tossing a smirk in with the sideways glance you gave him as you pulled your pants on before teasingly adding, “It is Peter, right?"
He was sitting up in the bed you had just left. Naked but you could only see his chest as he watched you collect your things and get dressed.
"You didn't seem to forget my name last night," He reminded, a wicked grin on his face before purposely dragging out the next word in the same sultry tone, "Y/N..."
"At least I'm not forgettable," You quipped before finally finding your shirt and bra on the other side of the room.
"Sorry about that," He remarked, still watching you.
"Don't be. Finding your boxers I'm sure will be a much more difficult task," You commented, choosing purposely not to get fully dressed yet.
Unusually, you were actually enjoying the awkward morning after chat this morning. Perhaps because this morning it wasn't that awkward. So even though you knew you had somewhere to be, you dragged it out slightly, teasing him. You figured you would never see him again, so why not have some fun. Plus there was something about him and you knew it. From the second you met him last night, it felt different. It wasn’t your usual haunt, it was a lawyer’s bar after all, but you had been their a few times before. Like usual you sat at the, drank free drinks, watched whatever game played on the screen and waited for whoever was going to take you home for the night. It was all going the same last night, until he walked in and sat in the seat beside you.
You were drawn to him from the very start, though you didn’t show it, and you actually enjoyed the conversation you had. It wasn't useless and empty, just filling time before it was socially acceptable to go back and do what you were both actually interested in. It was entertaining, challenging and flowed naturally. And the result at the end of the night was a natural progression rather than simply want was expected. It’s always fun, but last night…last night you felt alive.And you were willing admit how jaded you were when it came to all this, last night and this morning was surprisingly refreshing. All you knew is that you felt different this morning than any other morning like it previously, in a different apartment with a different person. Instead of wanting it to end, you didn’t want it to end.
“If there anything left of them,” You continued, with a wink, “Sorry about that,”
A comfortable silence fell over you both as you collected your shoes and belt. Still reluctant to put your bra and shirt on as you couldn’t help but like relishing in the fact that he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. But then you collected yourself, scolding yourself for indulging in such fantasy. You were a one night stand only, a good one for sure, probably the best he’s ever had, but that was definitely all it was. He didn’t want more and neither did you…
“So I should go,” You announced, tossing your shirt and bra back and forth in your hands before glancing at him again.
“You don’t want to stay for breakfast?” He asked, almost nervously but expertly hiding it and if you couldn't read people so well the facade wold have worked.
“Breakfast?” You questioned.
“The meal one eats in the morning. The first one of the day,” He defined, cockily, tilting his head at you.
You rolled your eyes before narrowing them in his direction, “I know what it is, I’m just surprised you asked,”
“Why’s that?” He asked, surprised, folding his arms.
“You know most people pretend to be asleep until the other person leaves,” You commented, walking over to him but hesitating at the foot of the bed.
“I find that hard to believe,” He breathed, his breathing increasing as you drew closer to him.
“Oh?” You entertained, raising an eyebrow as you sat down.
“It’s just that you’re so…” He began but yet again stopping as you leaned closer to him as he did you.
“What?” You prompted, your faces inches away from each other.
“You know,” He smirked.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” You grinned, “Though I admit your right. No one pretends to be asleep when I leave,”
“So what usually happens when you leave?” He continued to inquire.
“They try to make me stay for another round which never works and usually give me their number,” You informed.
“Do you call?”
“Nope,” You smirked, “But very rarely do they ask me to stay breakfast,”
“So will you stay?” He asked.
“I can’t,” You sighed, almost showing your disappointment, “I already have a breakfast date,”
“Oh,” He commented, showing his disappointment clearly, by creating a small increase in operation between you.
“It’s with my big brother,” You confessed, “So you don’t need to worry,”
“I wasn’t worried,” He shrugged, not breaking eye contact with you.
“Hmm,” You nodded, averting your gaze from his and biting your lip.
“So?” He prompted, after another brief and charged silence, your faces still hesitant inches apart from each other.
“So?” You breathed, leaning in even more.
Another silence ensued. You opened your mouth to speak only to stopped by him grabbing the back of your neck and drawing your mouth to his. Your surprise passed in a moment before you reciprocated. Pressing him backwards so his head fell back to the pillow and you shifted so you were sitting on top of him. Disagreeing the shirt and bar you still hadn't put on but had been holding once again the floor. You tucked a stray hair out of your face before parting your lips to allow his tongue access to your mouth. He kissed you long and hard, one hand on your cheek as he traced your cheekbone with his thumb, the other hand sliding down the length of your torso before settling your hip, digging in as the kisses became more fervent.
“I thought you had to leave,” He commented, breathless against her lips as they part momentarily for air.
“He can wait,” You gasp, before grabbing his face and capturing him again.
He pushed back this time, flipping the both of you over, so you were lying underneath him. He kissed you harder and pressed his body into yours, so you could feel how much he wanted you. You moaned into his mouth before hooking your leg around his waist to draw him even closer to you. His hand responded by going to your own about to undue your pants.
Before he could you pulled away reluctantly. Causing him to pull back.
“As much as I want to, I should really get going,” You explained.
“Right,” He nodded, moving so he landed beside you.
“But here, before I go,” You offered, grabbing the notebook the rest on the bedside table and scribbled, “My number,”
“Your number?”
“My number,” You confirmed before leaning close to his ear, “And I never give that away,”
You kissed the space beside his ear before hoping up out of bed, grabbing your belongings and heaving towards the door. You gave him one final glance and smile before saying goodbye. Pulling on your clothes as you walked the corridor and living room towards the front door of his apartment. Letting yourself out and as you shut behind you, you couldn’t help but feel the weighing disappointment of the likelihood of never seeing him again.
Around half an hour later, you were still running late to meet your older brother Jamie in a coffee shop for breakfast, luckily for you, you kept extra clothes in your car and the coffee shop was close to the station which meant you’d only be marginally late for briefing this morning. When you slid into the seat opposite him, in the booth he was occupying, he gave a suspicious glance. “Thank God,” You breathed, taking a hearty sip of the warm coffee that he had ordered and left waiting for you.
“Good morning to you too,” Jamie responded, taking a sip of his own coffee, watching you with his steady gaze.
“Sorry, Morning,” You offered, setting the cup down.
He said nothing as he narrowed his eyes at you.
“What?” You demanded, before glancing over the menu.
“What, what?” He retorted.
“You’re staring,” You stated.
“I’m observing,” He corrected, before picking the menu and glancing over it himself.
“J, I don’t how many times I have to tell you. No matter how hard you try you’ll never be as great as I am,” You sighed dramatically, “It’s just the sad reality we live in,”
He snorted before rolling his eyes.
“I’m not trying to be you,” He informed, “I’m trying figure out what’s up,”
“Who says somethings up?” You countered.
“Call it intuition,” He shrugged.
“Look at you breaking at those Detective skills Officer Reagan,” You teased, “Practising for the Detective’s exam are we?”
“Well I have been considering it…” He began before stopping himself, “You’re deflecting,”
“Am not,” You argued, indignantly.
“Are too,” He retorted.
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Are you guys ready to order?” The waitress suddenly asked, appearing by your side, causing both of you to look up.
You both quickly ordered breakfast before a tense but normal silence settled between the two of you.
“Am Not,”
“Are too,”
“Am Not,”
“So how was yesterday?” He asked, casually interrupting, though you knew that it was the whole reason why Jamie scheduled your weekly breakfasts on a Thursday morning.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair, almost hoping it would swallow you whole and get you out of the conversation.
“Do we have…” You went to protest.
“Yes,” He interrupted.
“Fine,” You gave in, thinking for a moment before responding, “It was insightful, we laughed, we learned and I came out a better person,”
Jamie face fell into a scowl, “Y/N,”
“It was all right, I guess,” You offered, truthfully, “I don’t know Jamie, how you describe a therapy session? I don’t think you’re supposed to feel better after them or if you do. I haven't experienced that yet,”
“So why are acting so strange?” He questioned, giving you look up and down.
“What do you mean?” You questioned, taking another sip as your respective breakfasts were placed in front of you.
"I don't know. You're face is..." He continued after thanking the waitress, waving his fork at you, as he spoke.
“What?” You demanded, preparing to offended by whatever childish insult that he would conjure up.
“Happy,” He finally breathed, “I don’t know, you just look good,”
“Don’t I always?” You teased, before taking a hearty bite of your breakfast.
“I know you like to think so,” He quipped before speaking sincerely, “But seriously, you look good. Like you did before...”
“Thanks,” You smiled, sadly saving him saying it by interrupting, before looking down at your meal.
“Is that because of your session?” He inquired, gently, you could tell he trying the best he could to balance his sincerity, the concern he had and his need to alleviate some of those concerns.
“God no,” You responded, honestly, “My session is why I went to a bar last night.”
“So why are you so...?” He went ask.
“I may have met someone at said bar,” You admitted, letting out a tense breath while avoiding his gaze, no matter how close you and Jamie were, he was still your older brother at the end of the day.
“Oh,” He nodded understanding immediately, a brief flash of disappointment taking over his features.
“It wasn’t like that,” You corrected, “It was supposed to be but it ended up being different,”
Jamie didn’t approve of your tendency to pick up random guys and have one night stands over traditional dating, but he never imposed his opinion on you and never directly asked you to change. Ultimately respecting that it was your life and your decision. But with that said, he didn’t like it either and you could tell it worried him. And if the roles were reserved, you’d probably be pretty worried too. Perhaps that’s why they had suggested going to talk to someone about everything that was going on, because they were concerned and by they you didn’t mean just Jamie.
You’re the youngest of the Reagan children and the first female Reagan to become a cop. And in spite of being the youngest you’d were always the one that took care of everyone else. You didn’t let them know that of course but it always felt like your natural role. Ever since you were little you would do things for your older siblings and other members of your family that you knew they liked or needed but you were never let them know it was you. Never letting your effortlessly cool, sharp, quick witted and perhaps somewhat emotionless persona falter. Though you think they knew regardless, you kept your attentive, loving and emotive side to yourself for the most part, wrongly believing for a long time and perhaps maybe still that others would see your kindness as weakness. Regardless of this, for the most part you were the baby of the family, carefree, sarcastic, too smart for your own good and extremely determined.
In light of this though, maybe it was so surprising what happened to you. When your mother died despite being the youngest and only being fifteen, you sort of took charge and took care of everyone and everything you physically could. You’d always been able to compartmentalise your feelings, so you ignored your grief and helped everyone else do the same. You rationalised in your head that their grief was more justified than yours, you were the youngest and they had known her longer and consequently would miss her more. Plus, by that time you were the only one left in the house by that time and who would take care of your Dad if not you? The same thing happened when your brother died but by this time, you were older and could do much more. Everyone was once again too distracted by their own grief to notice that you weren’t dealing with yours. You seemed okay so they all wanted to believe that you were and it was only until the fact that you hadn’t dealt with anything became so apparent when they realised that something really serious going on with the youngest Reagan, the carer, the family fixer.
Because that’s the thing about grief, you can compartmentalise, push down and ignore grief but eventually the manifestation ends and it resurfaces. It took years for you to fully resurface but their were a lot of signs along the way. For example after becoming a cop you always gravitated to the departments that were challenging so much so your career as a Rookie, Uniform and as a Detective started in the Gang Unit. Something that was extremely unusual especially as most people much like SVU only lasted two years. You lasted much longer. You threw yourself into it, it was hectic and fast paced and you loved it. It was all consuming to the point that you could forget yourself and your emotions even though you almost related to it all. It gave you an excuse not to date and no one ever questioned you about work, knowing that it was either classified or not something appropriate to discuss over the dinner table or in front of kids.
Your family noticed as the years went on, particularly after Joe’s death that you became increasingly distant. You’d go to Sunday Dinner every week but it was unusual to hear from you in-between and for a while they let themselves believe that it was just work. Then you missed a family dinner, you missed phone calls, avoided them purposely, moved apartments without saying a word though you did that regardless and just hadn’t mentioned it. When it was bad, it was overwhelming, you wanted to see them but you couldn’t. They were reminders, that you still had people who loved you and people who you loved early as well.
You still had people to lose.
You still had people who could leave you.
The biggest indication probably that something wasn’t right? Your love life or perhaps your lack there of. You’d never had a problem getting someone, there was always a lot of interest, much to you older brothers dismay but you could never let yourself truly want them back. Because once again to want someone meant that you could lose them. And that was you biggest fear, losing someone you loved, it had already happened twice and you couldn’t let it happen again. So you isolated yourself because it was easier and maybe because you feared that even if you tried and they promised they wouldn’t they would leave anyone and sometimes perhaps in your darkest moments your truly believed that there was something wrong with you. That you were the problem, you were the reason that no one stuck around.
The fear was perfectly illustrated. You broke up with your high school boyfriend during senior year because you knew he was going to go to College out of state and leave you. After that you continued to date but your relationships were lucky to last a year. After Joe died it went down to two months. And then there was no dating, just random encounters and sex. Telling yourself that was all you had time for but in reality it was all you let yourself have.
It was a year and half ago after you had ignored and avoided your family and your friends for around a month when they did something to get you help. You were two weeks into a big Organised Gang investigation and in the middle of day, Danny marched into your station and demanded to speak to you. Already too embarrassed to say no you obliged and you spoke privately in your Captains office. You knew that he had all intentions of ripping you a new one for ignoring everyone particularly your Grandpa that day but just one look at you made his expression change from one of anger to pure concern and worry.
He bent by your side and asked you when was the last time you ate, went home, did anything besides work. And you couldn’t give him an answer because you couldn’t even remember. Everything after that sort of became a blur. You went off work for around two months and moved back in with your Dad. Began seeing a therapist. You reconnected and more importantly you finally grieved. You let them take care of you like you should have all those years ago.
Over the past year and a half, you’d been a lot better. You felt supported by your family and the fear subsided. You were still seeing a therapist and Jamie had become the designated person in the family who checked in with you about it. Despite everything your family still weren't on talking all the time so it was easier just to speak to Jamie. The biggest take away you got from all of this was that you deserved to be upset as well, it didn’t matter that you were the youngest and had the least amount of time with Joe and your Mom. You still could miss them, they were as much as your Mom and brother and everyone else. Now you understood that maybe you deserved to be more upset because they were taken from you so young. Your mom missed a lot of your firsts way more than anyone else. She got to see everyone grow up but not you.
You were much better now. You eventually went back to work but only after you transferred to a different unit. One that satisfied your desire for challenge but also let you nurture your drive to take care of people. And that’s how you ended up transferring to the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. You felt it on your first day and every day since. It was were you were meant to be. It was your unit and the Squad whom you got on with straight away was your squad. It’s were you belonged. You still went to Therapy, every Wednesday after work. And you had worked through a lot and come a long way.
But dating was still where you still fell short. Both Erin and Linda had tried to set you up multiple times but they never worked out. You like to think that none of them were right for you and when you did find whoever was right for you, you’d know. Like your parents had alway told you, they knew from the second they met. Until then though, you were happy with your colleagues and family. And when you needed it, there was always a random guy to sleep with.
“Different, huh?” Jamie teased.
“I mean, yeah,” You shrugged, wavering under the scrutiny of his gaze do you dipped your head low and raised your cup high as you took a sip of your coffee.
“How so?” He questioned gently, putting his knife and fork down which had been working ever since the waitress had set his plate down. “Uh…it’s nothing,” You stuttered suddenly nervous, quickly changing the topic of conversation for the rest of the breakfast.
It seemed to have worked, you both chatted idly as you made your way to work. Jamie was an officer at your station which meant you were both heading the same way anyway. Navigating the busy streets with second cups of coffee in your hands.
“So what do you know about the new ADA?” He questioned as you turned the final block to the station.
“Nothing,” You shrugged, “All I know is that he transferred from Chicago and that I don’t like him as much as Barba,”
“You’ve never even met him,” Jamie chuckled, as he took your empty cup and tossed it into the trash along with his.
“Apparently he’s doing the briefing this morning,” You added, “Should be fun,”
“He’s not too bad,” Jamie offered, holding the station door for you as you both stepped inside after walking up the steps.
“And you know this?” You probed.
“Well Erin said she liked him…”
“And we all know Erin’s word is holy,”
“Plus I’ve met him,” He informed, “He’s already been here for a week Y/N. You’re the only person who hasn’t met him,”
“It’s not my fault I was training in Philadelphia when everything went down and he’s been in court for the past couple days as well apparently since I got back,” You returned, holding the next door open with your back.
“I know but I think you’ll like him,” He revealed.
“Well, he won’t like me considering I’m a whole five minutes late to his briefing.” You commented, glancing at your watch.
You continued to chat until you reached the bullpen which is where you parted ways. You began taking off your jacket and scarf as you headed towards the crowd of people, your squad, huddled around the evidence board. An unknown but strangely familiar voice filling the quiet room. Sonny, your partner, noticed you approach. He flashed you a smile before glancing at the clock and rolling his eyes. He then quickly beckoned you closer. You pushed through a couple of uniforms to be by his side. As you got closer, the voice became clearer and even more familiar. And then it dawned on you. Your eyes widened as the figure who had his back to you, turned and confirmed your suspicions. Sonny was about to say something when you locked eyes with the man that was addressing you. The same man you’d spent the night with. Your Peter was the Peter Stone everyone had been telling you about.
Your breath caught in your throat.
“Holy Shit,” Peter breathed, stopping mid sentence.
Everyone turned to look at you. There were a couple sniggers but mostly questioning glances as they looked at both of you in turn. No more than a second past but it felt like forever as you looked into each others eyes, knowing the time that you had spent together in the past twenty four hours were playing in your mind. You were still holding your breath, your chest tightening and your pupils widening.
“…I forgot to give you all my number,” He quickly continued, tearing his eyes away from yours and turning back around.
It was enough for everyone else. The moment passed and no one gave it a second thought. Except Sonny of course who was smirking at you as everyone else disappeared and moved on.
“I saw that,” Sonny teased, jostling your side as you both leaned against the edge of Fin’s desk.
“What? You saw what?” You stuttered, composing yourself and finally looking away to look Sonny in the eye.
“Th way he looked at you.” He winked, “And the way you looked at him,”
“I don’t even know him,” You reminded, regaining composure as you both heading back to your parallel desks, “It meant nothing,”
“You’re sure about that?” He questioned, his eyebrows furrowing at you.
“Positive,” You stated confidently, now safely across the room, tossing a look in his direction, before sitting down, “I’ve never seen him before in my life,”
“I guess you do have that effect on guys,” He shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he wouldn’t be the first man to walk into this precinct and get awestruck at the sight of you,”
“Stop exaggerating,” You commented, rolling your eyes.
“I swear I’m not. You have that effect on people, usually male,” He continued.
“I can’t help that people find mw irresistible,” You began to joke, spinning your chair jovially like usual.
“Detective Reagan?” A stern voice said from beside you.
You turned your head and looked up to see Peter standing by your side. You shot Sonny a glare as you knew he most seen him approaching as you had been speaking. You gave Peter a once over before standing up to greet him properly. You noted how he wearing the same suit you had seen hung up in his closet. His expression was emotionless and cold but his eyes told a different story. They were alight, just like they had been last night. Looking at you as fondly as they had that morning. He was trying to hide it but you knew.
“That’s me,” You smiled at him, your breath catching in your throat.
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” He greeted briskly, sticking his hand out but purposely avoiding your gaze, “I’m SVU new ADA. Peter Stone.”
“Nice to meet you, ADA Stone,” You returned, extra warmly as if to compensate for his lack thereof, shaking his hand and once again feeling the instant intensity you had felt before.
It was unfamiliar but good, amazing even. Enough that you didn’t want to let go. “I’m Detective Y/N Reagan,”
“Likewise,” He nodded distantly, still not exactly meeting your gaze, “Olivia told me that you had a suspect in the Monroe case,”
“I do,” You confirmed, “He gave me some information yesterday but only if I got him a deal with the DA would he tell me everything he knows,”
“I put him interrogation room 3 for you,” Sonny interjected, pretending to look up from his computer as if he wasn't watching the whole thing.
“Perfect, we’ll see if it’s worth anything,” Peter stated, with a gesture to the right direction, “Shall we?”
You nodded before you walked silently through the bullpen. He waited until you were alone to speak. Just as Sonny had said your suspect was waiting in interrogation room three. You were about to open the door when he stepped into your path.
“We need to talk,” He hissed.
“Then talk,” You encouraged, folding your arms and looking up at him.
“Alone,” He insisted, leaning in closer to you.
“We are,” You reminded, leaning in too, “No one is going to bother us, they’re all busy and will be for a while. Besides how long is this even going to take,”
“You don’t think we have things to discuss?” He questioned, sternly.
“Did I say that?” You asked.
“You didn't tell me you were a cop,” He accused.
“You didn’t tell me you were a lawyer,” You reminded.
“It was a lawyer bar,” He offered.
“So you assumed I was one,” You pointed out.
“I didn’t assume anything. I wasn't thinking. I just…I made a mistake. We made a mistake,”
“A mistake, huh?” You breathed, knowing your disappointment was well hidden.
“We made a mistake,” He concluded, taking in sharp breath, his hands falling to his hips, “You know nothing can happen between us, you know that right? It’s the rules.”
“And you’re such a stickler for the rules,right? I can tell.” You entertained.
“You don’t know me and I don’t know you.” He stated.
“So it’s easy to pretend that we met this morning and not last night, right?” You demanded, your gaze never faltering as you stared him into the eye, taking a step closer to him, “Unless you can’t deal with the fact that you’ve seen me naked because I know I can work with you despite the fact that I’ve had your penis in my mouth,”
He physically tensed up, his eyes immediately darting behind you to make sure that you were still alone.
“I can…” He insisted but his voice wavered.
“You sure counsellor? You don't seem to certain,” You interrogated, taking attest closer, closing the distance between you even further as your hand gripped the door.
“Yes,” He said, putting on a determined performance.
“Then it’s nice to meet you ADA Stone,” You spat, almost spitefully as you swung open the door and stepped inside.
“Detective Reagan,” He whispered before following you in.
And that’s how it was between the two of you for a while. Frosty, distant and usually non-existent, you didn't go out o foyer way to avoid him but it always seemed like he was doing that to you. Avoiding you, and you mostly understood not everyone was good at hiding their emotions as you were but there was still the smallest part of you that hoped that he couldn't be around you because he had felt it too. That instant feeling, we’ll call it chemistry, that your parents always described, that feeling knowing that you had found that one person.
Your person…
But that possibility became bleaker because after he treated you like everyone else on the squad. Like there was nothing between you and there never had been. And in a way it destroyed you for awhile but he was just treating you the way you agreed. So you compartmentalised and tried to move on. But in your experience, anything you pushed won always bubbled over eventually. The next three months thing shifted. The more you worked together, the closer you became. It was just as colleagues at first but it soon turned in to something more. A friendship,
It was even that strange when you thought about it now. You actually had a lot of things in common. Workaholics, cold exteriors but big hearts with big names to live up to. It wasn’t that surprising that you got on so well. You were professional but you messed with each other. You messed with each other but had a healthy respect. It became easy for you both to forget about the actual truth about how you met but it still festered underneath it all. It was the small moments that remind you both of it. After you won a case and everyone was celebrating and you’d catch each others eyes, grinning and the chemistry would overwhelm you both. Whenever you had to track him down at the bar, the same bar. Whenever either of you innocently touch each other, the electricity would shoot through your veins so much that you’d both flinch. Or any small moment between the two of you when you were alone, you could feel it festering still, coming up to surface, closer and closer as time passed.
There were two significant moments that brought you closer. One night at the bar after his sister was killed and you talked once again for hours, just like when you first met, but it was different that you opened to each other. You told him everything and he became the first person outside your family to know you saw a therapist. You tried to comfort him as best as you could, as you had also lost a sibling and a parent just like he had. And he opened up to you. He was hurting and for some reason he trusted you with all of it. Nothing happened at the end but you still felt closer and for the first time since that meeting in the precinct. There was hope. The second time was after you were injured apprehending a suspect and he rushed to the hospital to make sure you were okay. And everyone there could feel it. The concern he felt was more than one feels for a college or a friend or even a close friend. It was more.
You had ignored your feelings for  so long by that point that you didn't even see it but it was then Peter knew that you weren't just friends. But he didn't do anything and you had ignored everything for so long that you didn't even realise.
But then it all changed. The surface had broken and the feelings bubbled over. For the both of you, There was nothing special about the day it happened or the circumstances. It was just supposed to be a standard, normal everyday encounter but it turned into so much more.  
“Woah,” You let out opening the door to Peter’s office before quickly shutting it again, clutching the door handle.
“Y/N?” He questioned after the door slammed shut.
“Yep?” You shouted through the door.
“What are you doing?” He questioned.
“Well I visiting Erin and I thought I’d say hello but then you were shirtless so I thought…” You rambled incoherently only to stop when he opened the door from the other side.
“That you’d embarrass yourself?” He offered for you.
“I’d give you some privacy to get changed,” You corrected, stepping into his office as he shut the door behind you, “You just caught me by surprise,”
“As did you for me,” He pointed out, smirking at you as he leaned against his desk and you stood nearby the couch arm rest.
“Sorry,” You blushed helplessly, looking away as he had changed from his standard whit suit dress shirt to a soft navy blue sweater that was much more form fitting.
“Don’t be,” He insisted, “It’s not like you like you haven’t seen it before,”
You looked at him stunned momentarily as it was the first time he had ever brought up that night himself and the first time you had thought about it for a while.
“Sorry, I shouldn't have said that,” He quickly apologised as colour flooded to both of your cheeks.
“Don’t be,” You insisted this time, yeah your hand out and brushing your hand against his arm briefly and comfortingly, “We’re both adults and it’s been months since it happened. We’ve both moved on from it,”
“Yeah,” He nodded, averting his gaze.
“Like you said, it was a mistake,” You reminded.
He paused.
“Right?”
“I don’t…” He began before stopping himself and rehearsing, “If that night would never have happened would we be the same?”
“No,” You answered honestly.
“Then I was wrong then. It wasn't a mistake of that night brought us here. It never was. I was wrong then. I see that now,” He corrected.
“Wow…um…” You stuttered nervously, “We’ve never actually talked about that night,”
He nodded, looking at the floor. A silence fell over you both, it was tense and everything was being left unsaid.
“Can I ask something about that night?” You suddenly piped up.
“Of course,”
“Would you have called me?” You asked, simply, gazing at him but biting your lip as you watched him.
“Yes,”
“Because I was telling the truth when I said that I never give my number to anyone. I take theres because there was no uncertainty. I knew nothing would happen but with you…” You continued, not hearing him.
“I said yes, Y/N,” He repeated, even louder.
“Oh,” You let out stopping yourself, digesting everything, “How can you be sure…”
“You know me quite well, don’t you?” More than most?” He asked, interrupting you.
You nodded.
“You know I’m organised and I never forget a commitment,”
You nodded again.
“Well, heres something you don't know. I put reminders on my phone sometimes for important things even though I don't forget. Just in case,” He explained as he pulled out his phone.
“Okay…” You persisted.
“I’ve been putting off the same reminder since the day you gave me your number,” He confessed showing you the screen.
The reminder simply read: ‘Call Y/N’
“I didn't want to forget,” He admitted, drawing closer and closer to you until your bodies were only inches apart.
You breathed heavily as you looked up at him, your chest heaving.
“I still don’t want to forget,” He continued, “The way you made me feel. The way you still make me feel. It was more than just sex for me.”
“For me too,” You confessed.
“What?”
“I walked into that bar just wanting what I always wanted. But I left with something more. I don't talk to my one night stands for five hours before sleeping with them. You were different and it felt right for the first time. I felt right. It all made sense. And I haven't wanted anyone else since,”
“So you haven’t…?” He asked.
“Not since you. I didn't need too. You’re the only one I wanted. No one else…,” You explained.
“I want you too,” He said.
“What?”
“I want you too,” He repeated, adamantly this time, sure of himself.
Confident.
And with that he closed the distance, capturing you in an intense kiss. His hands going to your face as he pulled your lips to his. It was hungry and passionate, tantalising, leaving you dizzy as it went on, never seeming to end and you didn't want it to. Your hands ran through his hair as he captured your lip in-between his teeth.
“But I thought…” You began as soon as pulled away for air.
“I don’t care anymore,” He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours, leading you backwards until the back of your knees hit the front of his desk.
He placed a hand on each side of you, keeping you there as you looked up at him.
“You’re worth breaking the rules for,” He murmured against your lips before kissing you again, pressing his body into yours as your legs spread slightly so he was in-between them and you wrapped them around his waist.
“Are you sure?” You questioned, thinking about all the things he knew about you, how broken you were. All your issues, all your problems, everything. You needed to be sure he wasn't going to leave you.
“More than anything else,” He reassured, the look in your eyes all he needed to know, “I’m just as broken you know. I don't plan on leaving you,”
“How can you be sure?” You inquired, your limbs still entangled together as you kissed in-between every sentence of conversation.
“It’s like you said when I’m with you all  the stories make sense,” He breathed breathlessly in a low murmur into your ear before returning to kissing your neck hungrily, slipping further down your throat each time.
“I know what you mean,” You let out, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as he pressed his body more and more into yours, “It’s that thing. It’s chemistry,”
“It’s more than that now,” He whispered, spinning you both round and knocking over the things on his desk in process, “I don't just want sex with you Y/N. And I don't want just a friendship either. I want you. All of you.”
“What does that mean?” You asked.
“You already now but right now all I want…” He responded frantically and you could feel why, before he picked you up and sat you down on the desk, encouraging you to lay down on it.
“To have sex with me on your desk?” You teased, obliging happily and laying down as he climbed on top of you.
“No,” He whispered into your ear making you shiver as he began to unbutton his shirt of top of you, “I want to make love to you on my desk,”
400 notes · View notes
glenncoco4 · 5 years ago
Text
School of Rock
A/N: Love connection in the faculty lounge.
“Yo, Mr. Deeks.”
He stops in his tracks, turning in the direction of one of his students. “Yeah, Bobby. What’s up?”
“Can you help me with this math-“
His voice fades out when she come into his view. She’s a vision. Tall. Brunette. Beautiful. As she walks past him, she’s laughing at something the Principal said and……Holy crap. The way the sun shines through the window, lighting up her face even more as her lips turn into the widest most breathtaking smile he’s ever seen. He has to know her.
“Deeks.” 
“Ye-yeah.” He’s drawn out of his trance when the object of his affection turns the corner, slipping out of sight. Realizing that he’s being asked a question, he turns back to his student, seeing a piece of paper held out for him to look at. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted right now. Come see me before class and I’ll go over it with you, okay?”
Bobby nods his head, seeing that his teacher is indeed distracted. “Okay. Thanks, Mr. D.” 
The kid turns to walk away, but before he does, Deeks grabs his arm, turning him around. “Hey, Bobby. Do you know who that woman is that Principal Newman is showing around?”
“The brunette?”
“Yeah.”
“I think she’s the girl’s new soccer coach.”
He gives the kid a smile, thanking him. The bell rings and kids begin to scatter. Once he hears the last door close, he leans over, trying to catch his breath. 
Standing back up, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath and walks back towards his classroom. 
It had been a successful first day. She has a good feeling about this place and a good feeling about her girls. Even though they’ve only had one practice so far, things are looking good. The girls are strong and very skilled. Her colleagues are nice. Most of them she’s met, but there are still a few who she didn’t get around to meeting today.
She’s making her way to her car in the faculty parking lot when something, rather someone, catches her eye. She thinks she saw him earlier today talking to a student in the hall. In her few years of coaching, she’s never seen someone look shaggy and clean all at the same time. If there’s anyone that can pull it off, it’s definitely him. Mop of blonde hair that’s not too short, not too long. Glasses framing his face, magnifying those piercing blue eyes and don’t even get her started on his clothes. His muscles, slightly bulging through his long sleeve button up and those form fitting khakis, boy howdy. She’s so distracted by the tightness of his clothes that she doesn’t see the helmet in his hand.
She watches him as he walks up to a motorcycle and strap his bag to the seat. He turns around since she can only assume that he feels that he’s being watched, because well, he is. What catches her off guard is the boyish smile he sends her way. Holy crap. And now he’s walking right towards her. 
“Hi, I’m Marty Deeks. Calculus.” He sticks out his hand as he greets her. “You’re the new girl’s soccer coach, right?”
She feels the heat rise to her face and oh my god why is she blushing. “Yeah. Kensi Blye.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Kensi.” 
“It’s nice to meet you too, Marty.” 
They both become entranced with one another when their eyes lock. Him staring into mismatched pools of chocolate. She staring into deep ocean blue. It takes them a few minutes before they finally realize that they’re still holding hands. Both pull back as if shocked by some sort of electric current that ran through their bodies. 
He runs his fingers through his hair, that boyish grin still there. “So how was your first day?”
She feels the heat return to her face. Why is this happening to her? “It was really good. I met most of my players and I know it’s too soon but I think we have a pretty good chance at state this year.” 
“I’m sure you’re just the right person to get them there.” 
A bashful smile crosses her face and there’s a beat of silence. Neither one not really knowing what else to say. 
“I’m assuming that you’re new to town.”
“Technically, yes.”
He furrows his brow, giving her a questioning look. 
“I grew up near here and I use to come here all the time for these amazing donuts.”
“Sophie’s Sweets?”
Her eyes go wide in recognition. “YES!” 
He laughs at her exuberant outburst.
And once again the heat returns to her face. “Sorry, I just for the life of me could never remember the name.”
“Well if you’d like, we could go get some of those delicious donuts and I could show you around a little. You know, help you re-familiarize yourself with the city.” He had no idea what made him become so bold all of the sudden.
“I’d like that.” She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Awesome.” He holds up his helmet, gesturing towards his ride. “So have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?”
She shrugs. “Maybe once or twice.”
1 year later
Kensi, walks out of the teacher’s lounge and starts making her way down the hall towards the soccer field. 
“Alright, Bobby, you’re on.” Deeks does a thumbs up. If his plan is gonna work, he needs all the help he can get. 
Bobby starts walking toward Kensi, calling after her. “Coach Blye.”
She turns around, sending him a smile. “What can I do for you, Bobby?” 
“I was just wondering if you could help me out with these books.” 
Seeing as though part one of his plan is panning out, he hastily makes his way out the front door and walks around the school, making sure to avoid Kensi. 
Soccer Field
“Hey, Mr. Deeks.”
He makes his way over to the girls practicing. His nervousness is beginning to set in. This is a huge deal and he really doesn’t want to screw it up. “Hey, girls.”
“Coach Blye isn’t here right now. She should be back in a few minutes.” 
“I know. That’s why we have to make this quick.” 
He’s met with a bunch of confused faces. 
“Make what quick?” 
He feels his pocket vibrate, his warning signal. “No time to explain.” Taking the shirts out of the bag, he hands one to each girl. “Just put these on, remember where you’re suppose to stand and just tell coach that you want to show her the new goal celebration that you came up with.”
As each girl sees the letters on the back of the shirts and realize what they’re spelling out, their eyes go wide, smiles quickly forming on their faces. 
There’s a resounding. “Oh my god.”, making him smile.
As if on cue, his phone starts to ring. “Okay, she’s coming. Just remember what I told you.” 
“What about you?” One of the girls asks.
“When she turns her back, I’m gonna run up behind you guys and kneel behind you so that you’re hiding me.” His phone starts ringing again, forcing him to run off to hide behind the bleachers.
She’s almost to the field when she sees her girls…..and why are they not in their practice jerseys? Shaking it off, she yells for them to start drills. 
“Alright, girls. Line’em up.”
When she steps on the field one of them speaks up. “Wait, coach. We wanna show you our new celebration dance.”
“Okay, just let me set this stuff down and you can show me.” She turns around, walking towards the bench to set down her playbook and water bottle. Once she turns back around, she’s a bit perplexed. The girls are just standing there, smiles gracing each of their bright young faces. 
Shrugging at the strange position they’re in, she nods for them to go ahead. “Okay, let’s see it.” 
They slowly turn around, brining the letters on the back of their shirts that she hadn’t noticed before into her view. M A R R Y. Then she looks at the three girls kneeling in front. M E ?
She takes in a shaky breath when it finally clicks to what she just read. Then the girls slowly begin to split like the Red Sea and tears start to form in her eyes at the sight of that mop of blonde hair. He’s down on one knee, that boyish smile that she fell in love with gracing his face and there in his hand, a shiny object. 
Slowly, she makes her way over to him. The tears that were once pooling in her eyes have since began to fall. When she reaches him, she runs her fingers through his hair and brings her lips to his in what she knows will be their last kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend. “Hi.”
The love that’s radiating from his eyes is only a glimmer of what he feels for her. “Kensi Marie Blye, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I don’t know how it happened or how I got so lucky as to have you in my life, let alone be loved by you. You’re the best person I know. The most amazing woman I have ever met and the most badass coach in all of girl’s soccer. Your beauty and kindness radiate from within you each and every single day. Everyday I wake up next to you is the best day of my life, because you are my life. You’re everything. To sum it all up…..I want you. I want you forever. I want to be the man you deserve, because you deserve the best. I want to make all your dreams come true and to be by your side when you and your team win the State Championship.” They both laugh at the resounding whoops and hollers from the girls. “If you let me, I’ll spend every breath of everyday, telling you and showing you how much I love you. You deserve everything and more, baby. I love you so much. Will you marry me?” He lets out a nervous sigh, hoping that he didn’t just sound like a blabbering doofus. 
The teary-eyed laugh she lets out is music to his ears. She nods her head, smiling as she goes back in for another kiss. “Yes. Hell, yes!”
Their first kiss as an engaged couple is one that can only be described as passionate. Pulling back, smiles still beaming on their faces, he takes her hand and slips the simple yet elegant ring onto her finger. 
He stands up as she examines it for the first time and it’s perfect. Perfectly her. Perfectly them. “I love you, Marty Deeks.” 
She wraps her arms around his neck as he wraps his around her waist for a hug. “I love you, Kensi Blye soon-to-be Deeks.”
Reaching up on her tip-toes, she places another kiss to her fiancé’s lips before she turns to her team to address them. “Okay, ladies. Practice is canceled. Be here bright and early tomorrow morning and remember…no going and staying out all hours of the night.”
He places a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent that can only be described as sunshine. “Let’s go home.” 
Intertwining their fingers, they walk hand in hand back to the bench so that she can grab her things. “But first donuts.”
He huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around his fiancée’s shoulder. “Of course. Donuts first.”
“You’re the best, babe.”
“Only givin’ what I’m gettin’.”
She sighs in contentment as she burrows into his side. Perfect.
13 notes · View notes
splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago
Link
Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough.
Tumblr media
Chapter Summary: Everyone keeps telling Gray he's safe, but he's having a hard time believing it.
Chapters 20/22):  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17| 18 | 19 | 20 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise
**TW for description of injuries from abuse
-----
i know a place where we can run
sur·vive | \ sər-ˈvīv transitive verb :  to continue to live or exist after
.
xix november
.
When Gray wakes up the next morning, Natsu is still asleep. Gray must have rolled over at some point during the night, and Natsu’s curled up behind him, arm wrapped around Gray’s stomach, nose pressed into Gray’s hair. He’s snoring softly, and Gray can feel each breath on the back of his neck.
There’s a soft squeak, and Gray turns to see Frosch sitting on the bed next to him, looking at him curiously. She rubs herself against his arm, making another strange, high-pitched purr as he slowly reaches over to pet her.
“Hey,” he whispers, and immediately regrets it. His throat feels like he swallowed broken glass – sharp and raw.
Everything hurts, but he can’t think about it.
Gray looks over at Natsu’s face - open and peaceful in sleep. His hair is in his eyes, and Gray reaches over to tuck it behind his ear, running his fingers over the freckles on Natsu’s cheek.
Natsu saved his life.
Vague images of yesterday are starting to come back to him – Gray remembers everything, but he’s putting it in tiny boxes, hidden away in pieces so he doesn’t have to think about anything as a whole.
He watches Natsu sleep for a while longer, then slips out from under his arm, pushing himself to his feet and trying to stretch. The painkillers from the hospital are nowhere to be seen and Gray sighs, heading out into the kitchen to find them.
Continue reading on AO3
Rogue is up, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and doing the crossword. When Gray comes in the room he looks up and smiles, setting down his pen and stretching.
“Coffee?” he asks, then glances down at the marks on Gray’s neck and shakes his head. “Sorry, stupid question. I can make a smoothie if you’d like? Sting keeps buying bananas and never eating them, so we have about twenty of them in the freezer.”
Rogue rolls his eyes and Gray feels his lip curl up in a tiny smile as he nods. He settles down at the stool by the island, rubbing his eyes and wincing, and when Rogue passes him a couple pills and a glass of water, he tips his head in thanks.
“One of these days I should just make banana bread,” Rogue says, pulling open the freezer and gesturing at all the bananas. “I hate baking, though. Do you bake?”
Gray opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it and shakes his head instead.
“Sting’s actually pretty good at it,” Rogue continues, rummaging through the fridge. “Except he’s so forgetful that he sometimes leaves things in the oven until they’re black. He almost burned our last apartment down when he tried to make a cake for my birthday.”
Gray huffs out a quiet laugh, then leans forward on his elbows as he watches Rogue move around the kitchen. Rogue keeps talking about nothing – how their wedding photographer is charging way too much, how Sting never puts his laundry in the basket even though it’s right next to the bed, how Sting really needs to get his paperwork together so they can finally file their taxes.
The words blend into quiet background noise, and it reminds Gray of talking to Natsu on the phone – pointless nonsense that takes him away from the thoughts racing through his head. Gray wants to say thank you, wants to tell Rogue how much his normal, everyday conversation means, but he can’t make the words.
When Rogue smiles at Gray and squeezes his hand, Gray’s pretty sure Rogue knows.
-----
Eventually Rogue heads off to shower and Natsu appears in the kitchen door, shirt rumpled and hair sticking up in every direction. Gray can see that he’s trying to keep his face neutral, but the lines by his eyes are drawn with...
Gray’s actually not sure what feeling it is. He’d assumed it was pity, but that’s not quite right.
“Hey, you,” Natsu says. “You look tired. Wanna come sit?”
Gray nods, following Natsu into the living room and settling down next to him on the couch. Natsu opens up his arms in an offer that Gray gratefully accepts. A little bit of shifting later, Natsu is pressed up against the back of the couch, Gray facing him with his head tucked under Natsu’s chin.
“You sleep okay?” Natsu asks quietly, running his fingers through Gray’s hair. Gray nods, even though he’s already exhausted. “Good,” Natsu says, kissing the top of Gray’s head. “Do you wanna talk? Or just watch something stupid on TV?”
Gray sighs, pressing his face to Natsu’s chest and playing with the zipper of Natsu’s hoodie. He shakes his head, gesturing to his throat.
“I’m so sorry,” Natsu whispers, wrapping both arms around Gray and holding him tight. Gray shakes his head – not your fault. “I can’t... gods, thinking about him hurting you like that, I just...”
Natsu’s fingers trace gentle patterns down Gray’s spine, soothing the ache. Gray can feel Natsu shaking against him and he knows Natsu’s crying, but he doesn’t know what to do. He hurts too much to be able to make it better.
“It’s not your fault,” Natsu whispers through his tears, pressing his face to Gray’s hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, but I will be now. I promise, okay?” He looks down and tips Gray’s head up until they’re looking at each other, and they’re so close that Gray can count the freckles across Natsu’s nose. “I promise,” Natsu whispers again.
Gray nods, sighing and trying to relax back against Natsu. He’s so fucking tired, but he’s having a hard time pushing everything away. The boxes are opening, spilling out and flooding through him until he can barely breathe. It feels like Joel’s fingers are around his throat again and he’s gasping for air, certain he’s going to die.
“I’m here.” Natsu’s soft voice and gentle fingers in Gray’s hair bring him back to the present, and Gray lets out a shaky breath. “You’re safe.”
Gray can’t remember what safe feels like, but Natsu’s never hurt him, so he tries his best to believe the words.
-----
The sound of keys in the door is like a shock – Gray's instantly awake and his heart is racing, mind desperately trying to figure out where he is. Somebody’s arms are around him and he shoves them away, hard, then finds himself on the floor. Tension pulls at him and everything aches all over again as every muscle in Gray’s body tightens into a flinch.
“It’s okay,” Natsu says gently. Gray looks up – Natsu's still lying on the couch, eyes bleary with sleep, hair sticking up in every direction, hand out to Gray. Gray stares at Natsu for a second then shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself instead. Heat creeps into his cheeks and he wishes he could sink into the floor and disappear.
The door swings open and Gray exhales shakily – it’s not Joel. It’s not Joel. It’s not Joel. Everything aches and his chest is tight and he can’t breathe and—
Instead of footsteps, there’s the jingling of dog tags and a quiet woof.
Gray’s eyes fly open as Bella barrels down the hallway, crashing against the couch and nearly into Gray’s lap. She’s squirming and headbutting him and making the quiet whining sound that he knows means I missed you, I love you, you’re my best friend.
Gray bursts into tears.
“Good girl,” he whispers wetly, wrapping his arms around her neck and pressing his face into her fur. She licks his cheek, wriggling happily until she’s cuddled up against him with her paws across his legs.
Gray pulls back and runs his hands over her face, inspecting her for any injuries. He doesn’t find any, and he lets out a quiet sob, pressing their foreheads together.
There’s a cautious touch on Gray’s shoulder and he looks up to see Sting crouched there, Bella’s leash in his hand.
“Thank you,” Gray whispers, running his fingers through Bella’s fur.
“He didn’t hurt her,” Sting says gently, setting the leash down on the coffee table and squeezing Gray’s shoulder. “She had lots of fun riding in the back of the police cruiser, didn’t you, girl?” Sting puts his hand out and Bella licks it happily, nudging his hand until he scratches behind her ears.
Gray exhales slowly as the terrified tension leaves his body, melting with the soft fur under his fingertips. They sit in silence for a moment, then Gray peeks up at Sting again and asks, “what happened?” The words scrape at his throat.
“We have Joel in custody,” Sting says. “He’ll have a bail hearing tomorrow, but with the evidence against him, they’ll likely deny him. And if they don’t, we can make up a no-contact order for you.”
Gray nods shakily, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. He looks up at Natsu, who reaches down and takes Gray’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
“You’re safe now,” Sting says, and his voice is soft and reassuring enough that Gray sort of believes him. “You can stay here for as long as you want, and I can take you back to the apartment to get anything you need.”
Gray shakes his head. “I don’t wanna go back,” he says, voice raspy and thick with tears. “I can’t.”
“That’s okay,” Sting says quickly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re safe, and we’re gonna keep it that way.”
Frosch appears next to Sting and rubs herself against his leg, then looks up curiously at Bella. She meows at him, then jumps into Gray’s lap.
“Be nice,” Gray warns as Bella notices Frosch and immediately starts to sniff her. Frosch is smaller than Bella’s head, but she’s fearless as she reaches out and gently bats Bella’s nose. Bella noses at Frosch, sniffing her and then giving her a lick that runs from her head to her tail.
“Looks like Bella has a new best friend,” Natsu says. He’s sitting up now, running his hands through his messy hair, and when he slips down onto the floor next to Gray, Gray leans against him gratefully.
Gray looks over at Sting again, trying to convey gratitude without words. Sting slides his hand down Gray’s arm and squeezes his hand gently, giving him that look again – understanding. Solidarity.
Gray is suddenly hit by the mental image of eleven-year-old Sting, terrified and bruised and bloody, wondering what he’d done to make someone hurt him that badly. Before Gray can change his mind, he leans forward and hugs Sting tightly, letting out a shaky breath when Sting settles down on the floor beside him and returns the embrace.
“I know,” Sting says softly. “You can do this.”
Gray can’t let go of him, can’t let go of Natsu’s hand, because they're the only things holding him here. Without them, he’s nothing but tiny pieces of fear and hurt that will fall apart and disappear forever.
-----
“You wanna take a shower?” Sting asks eventually.
Gray blinks a few times – he’d almost fallen asleep between them again, wrapped in Natsu’s arms and leaning against Sting.
He nods, letting Sting help him to his feet. Bella whines, but when Natsu moves back to the couch and pats the spot beside him, Bella jumps onto it and immediately plops her head into his lap. Sting leads Gray down the hall to the bathroom, grabbing a clean set of clothes and a towel on their way.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Sting says, closing the door and leaving Gray alone with himself.
When Gray looks in the mirror, he wishes he hasn’t.
It’s still a stranger staring back at him – his left eye is bruised and swollen so badly it’s almost closed, and his lip is split and red with crusted blood. The marks on his neck terrify him – fingerprints forming into bruises on his throat, scratch marks from where Gray tried to pry away Joel’s hand, tiny red divots where Joel had dug in his nails.
Gray stares at his reflection for a long time, and when he finally gets undressed, there’s more. Bruises on his hips, his forearms, his ribs – it’s like his body is nothing but a canvas for marks of red and purple. A place for pain.
He turns on the water as hot as he can, then sits down in the tub, letting it burn away the ghost of Joel’s fingerprints. Gray’s shoulders shake as he starts to cry, face pressed against his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. Maybe if he makes himself small enough, he won’t exist anymore.
Is that what he wants? Part of him hurts so badly that he thinks just not existing would be easier, and his mind drifts back to the broken glass vase and the tiny white scars on his forearm.
It would be easy, but he’s trying so fucking hard to be brave.
5 notes · View notes
lavenderloki · 7 years ago
Text
Harsh Words
Part 1/3
Loki X Reader
Words: 1854 
Synopsis:  You and Loki don’t always have the easiest time as a couple, especially with his temper. Also, this takes place in Thor The Dark World when Frigga dies, but Loki isn’t imprisoned.
As soon as you heard the news of Frigga’s passing, you ran to where Loki was dealing with the prisoners who had escaped. You needed to make sure he heard it from you, and not a guard. Not someone who wouldn’t do it as gentle as you would, and care for him if he broke down.
You ran into the prison wing, panting, and looking around until you spotted Loki talking with a guard. He looked over, noticing you, and a relieved smile crossed his face. He walked over, pulling you into his arms. You smiled, inhaling his scent and closing your eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re alright, my blossom. I was so worried.” He whispered into your hair, and you felt even more dread than before about what you had to tell him. Sighing, you pulled away and looked up at him. Of course, him knowing you so well, he could take one look in your eyes and know something was wrong.
“What is it?” He asked, brows furrowed. You wrung your hands nervously.
“Can I speak to you? In private?” You asked. He nodded, and you grabbed his hand before leading him into an empty room. He took a seat in a chair, and you stood in front of him, taking a deep breath.
“Darling, whatever’s stressing you, you can tell me.” Loki prodded upon seeing your nervousness. You managed a small smile before shaking your head.
“It’s not that, it’s…” You sighed, clenching and unclenching your fists, “Your Mother, she's dead”
Loki sat in silence. He stared at you. He didn’t move. It seemed like decades, the two of you looking at each other, your nervousness almost tangible. Finally he spoke, “She’s dead?”
The brokenness of his voice, the pain in his eyes, it broke your heart. You got on your knees in front of him, grabbing his hands. Loki looked at you, his gorgeous emerald eyes glazed over, “I’m so sorry, baby. I am. But, it’s going to be okay.” You promised. Loki stood up, causing you to fall back.
“It’s going to be okay? How the hell is it going to be okay? My Mother is dead! The one person I truly loved and who loved me!” Loki exclaimed, tugging on his raven hair and pacing to the end of the room. You stood up, your heart sputtering at the words.
“I love you, Loki. And I thought you loved me.” You whispered, not able to take the idea that all the times he’d said those words that he hadn’t meant it. You knew he was in pain, but so were you. Frigga had been a good friend of yours, and now Loki was saying he didn’t love you. Although you knew he was hurting, no amount of pain could warrant that to be okay.
“Please. You? A Midgardian mortal with more past issues than she can count? You’re nothing.” He spat, not looking at you. Your teeth clenched in anger, your eyes stinging with tears. One slipped out, leaving a trail as it slipped down your cheek and fell off your chin.
“How dare you.” You breathed out, more tears fell, and you fled out of the room, not able to take it anymore. By the time you got to the room you shared with Loki, your tears were spilling without a sign of stopping. Sobs forcing themselves out of your throat. You threw everything you’d brought to Asgard with you, which wasn’t much, into a bag. Taking one look at the picture of you and Loki on the nightstand, you hurried out of the room.
It didn’t take you long to get to the Bifrost, you were a quick mover. You knew Heimdall already knew why you were there, as if the tear streaks on your face weren’t any sign.
“Where would you like to go M’lady?” He asked as you hugged him goodbye. You pulled away, wiping your face and sighing.
“The Avengers Tower, please. And don’t tell Loki where I went” You told him, pulling your bag farther up on your shoulder. He nodded, turned on the Bifrost, and soon you were away from him, Asgard, and the man you loved. You closed your eyes.
When you opened them, you were standing in front of the familiar tower. The one that had been your home before you went to Asgard with Loki. You walked into the building, taking the elevator to the floor where your old room was, and walked there. Tony promised he’d keep it vacant ‘in case that dick ever hurts you’. Little did you know then how true it would be today. Walking into your room, you became encircled with a sense of nostalgia. So many happy memories had happened in this room, in this tower, on this planet. It came to you how much you’d missed it.
You threw your bag on the bed, walking over to the balcony doors and throwing them open. Taking in a breath of fresh air, you sat on the chair and gazed at the breathtaking view. You sat in silence for a long time. Listening to the sound of the world; wind, cars on the nearby highway, birds flying through the air. It was beautiful, painfully beautiful. You tried not to, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Loki’s words. You’re nothing.
You’d heard worse in your life, from different people, but never from him. And lo and behold, you found yourself crying again. You were pitiful, crying over some hurtful thing the guy you were with said. You held your head in your hands, letting yourself collapse for a minute.
“Y/n?”
You quickly sat up, turning to see who the owner of the voice was. Of course, it was Tony Stark. Your fellow Avenger and best friend. Sniffling, you wiped your face and stood up, turning to face him.
“Hey, Tony. Sorry, I should’ve called and said I was coming but-” You were crushed in Tony’s embrace, face smooshed into his shoulder as he held you. The hug broke something in you, and you were soon crying again into his shoulder.
"Shh.. Hey, it's okay, kiddo. Let it out." He whispered soothingly, holding you close. Your entire body was shaking, your heart pounding. You felt like you were dying.
Upon this realization, a long dead plant you had on the balcony was suddenly renewed to looking like it had once. Petals a bright pink and standing straight up in the soil. It grew taller and taller, until it was about three feet, and it reached over until a petal brushed your arm. The flower grew around your arm, twisting around it and spreading. Soon, your whole forearm looked like a giant bouquet of tiny pink flowers.
Sniffling, you looked down at the plant. Your gaze moved over to the flowerpot, where the stem and roots were still planted in the soil.
"So, I see your powers are still working." Tony commented, and you gave him a small smile.
Since you were a little girl, you were always drawn to nature and the Earth. You loved all plants, and were playing in the woods any change you got. It wasn't until you were thirteen that you realized you had powers. It started out small, being able to create small flowerbeds in any soil you wanted. But by the time you were eighteen, you could grow a giant tree in the blink of an eye.
So, you became an Avenger. And after some training, you learned you could do a lot more than garden. You could physically move the Earth and make it do what you willed it to. You could move mountains, create valleys, anything that had to do with Earth. But you always had a bigger interest in flowers. You loved them, all of them so very much.
That's why Loki called-
Used to call you blossom. Sighing, you looked at Tony, flicking your fingers and sending the flower back to normal. You sank down into the chair you had been in before, Tony sitting next to you.
"You okay now?" He asked as you put your feet in his lap, leaning back. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"No, but I'll manage. Sorry I didn't call to say I was coming, it was kind of... unexpected." You replied.
"No, don't worry about it. You're always welcome here." Tony's words made you smile, genuinely smile, and it felt good. You should've visited more often.
"So, who made you cry like that? Who's ass do I have to kick?" Tony asked, and you let out a light laugh. That little laugh took a weight off your chest, and you sighed with content. You felt better already.
With difficulty, you relayed the story of what happened to Tony. Everything from finding out about Frigga's death to appearing in front of the tower. When you finished, you sighed. It was a fresh memory, and it hurt. You watched Tony, watched him furrow his brows and clench his jaw.
"I never should have let you go with that asshole. I knew he would do something like this. God, I just wanna kick his ass. I'm really sorry, kiddo. You deserved better." Tony said, anger evident in his voice. You smiled, kicking his hip with the foot in his lap.
"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm back now, and I'm honestly glad. I missed it here. I hope it's no trouble of me staying here, though." You trailed off, chewing on your lip.
"No, of course not! I am so glad you're back, sometimes it's hard living with all these people and you're not here." Tony explained, and you gave him a knowing smile. You knew he had missed you, for which you felt bad. But you also knew that the people he lived with- his family- were his favorite people in the whole galaxy. Especially a certain Patriotic Avenger.
"How is Steve, by the way?" You asked. At the mention of his partner, Tony brushed his right index finger against the wedding band on his left hand.
(I'm Stony trash lmao sorry not sorry)
"He's an idiot. I love him." The statement made you laugh, and you shook your head. Tony Stark was completely, head-over-heels in love. Tony watched you laugh, a smile on his face. It was good to see you laugh, especially with how upset you'd just been.
"Hey, how about you and I make dinner for everyone? Like we used to. Come on, it'll be fun. Plus, everyone's going to be so happy to see you." Tony offered. If you were being honest, you didn't think you'd ever heard something sound so fun.
"I'd love to." You accepted, and Tony stood up. He held his hand out to you, helping you up and leading you to the kitchen.
"Yo, Avengers! You'll never guess who's here!" Tony yelled, and there was a couple of seconds of silence. Then, you heard footsteps from different parts of the tower. Your old friends coming to see you. You smiled.
It was good to be home.
279 notes · View notes