#EYE felt he was getting Close to some kind of epiphany... truly he went on a bit of a hot streak towards the end there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kookingtae · 4 years ago

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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softrozene · 4 years ago

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Sacrifice

@luna-hatake-uchiha requested: Hi. First of all, I want to wish you a happy new year. I read on Archiv of your Own that your request box is open... Soo could you please write a scenario where Law and his s/o are having a daughter and after a few years their daughter shows symptoms of the Amber Lead poisoning? And Law doing everything he can to heal her? (This is my first time doing this and I'm sorry if I sound rude somewhere.)

You were perfect in requesting Hon! Apologies for how late this is (I hope you had a good start to the new year!) but omg- That would be so heartbreaking ahhhhh. This came out pretty angsty but I tried to give it a neutral ending! I hope you enjoy it!

This turned into a one-shot oops.

Trafalgar Law x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff/Angst- Spoilers of Law’s past. Can be considered a good or sad ending! Uhh Post-Pirating au? Law is retired from the pirate life lol, grammar

*Instead of 2nd pov I wrote this in 3rd pov for a change. : )

Also, yeah- I am pretty sure that Law would be able to cure his daughter of this because of his Devil Fruit and it’s “Miraculous” abilities but I went for the more angsty side, so I made it more complicated than that lol. I just love the idea of protective dad Law.

Words: 1983

The smell of coffee is usually a scent that brings the pregnant woman, (Name), a comfort since that means she can sneak a sip from her husband’s cup but right now… It is too early for coffee. He should be in bed with her, but the sun is not even up. With exhaustion evident on her face and the goal of finding Law and bringing him back to bed- She regretfully leaves the warm bed.

The house they have is a decent-sized home. Two bedrooms- The one they share together, and the guest room, a nursery that Law and (Name) have been working on and of course, Law’s office to store his medical books and journals, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small cozy living room.

It felt like bliss living here.

Even more so with the bun in the oven. Law was in shock when he realized his wife was indeed pregnant, but it made the joy of retiring from piracy to enjoy a domestic life with her all the better. It most certainly eases his thoughts that most of his crew also retired here on this peaceful island.

Things could not have turned out more perfect for them.

Though… That was about to change as (Name) walks into his office- The light from it leaking out into the hallway. The smell of coffee gets stronger, and she smiles upon seeing how serious her husband is looking through some of his books.

No matter what he is doing, he looks so handsome.

Something he got used to arguing with her saying how she is crazy for thinking his eyebags are attractive. It was all jokes sure but (Name) was serious and proud to say he was handsome. His personality definitely that too. She can rely on him and him on her and that is something hard to do for the both of them.

Law is too in the zone in the book so (Name) uses that to her advantage. She sneaks up behind him and is quick to wrap her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek. His tense body immediately relaxes within her hold and he turns to offer her a tired smile.

“Did I wake you?” He asks softly as a hand comes up to meet her swollen belly.

(Name) laughs and holds his hand to her stomach. “Yes, but it is fine. I just got cold without your warmth. That and the beautiful smell of coffee. I think our daughter wants a sip.”

Law’s face turns into a scolding one immediately making his wife laugh as she continues, “Hey! You said I could have some in moderation! I think a tiny sip is less than that and yes, I know we do not know if our child will be a girl, but I just have this feeling…”

Law sighs but… Then smiles as he just shakes his head. He gives in knowing full well that his wife’s point was mainly about getting her daily sip of coffee in. He pulls away from his wife’s loving hand to reach for his mug of coffee. Being careful of the still-hot contents in it. He hands it to her and watches as she smiles and takes her desired sip. Handing it back to him he puts it on the desk and immediately pulls the pregnant woman onto his lap earning himself a giggle from her.

“Anyway, what are you doing up, my love?” She asks as she nuzzles her face into his neck the best she can.

At this question, Law turns tense. His sigh comes out stressed as he hesitates to speak. He thinks it would be better now to share his concern, especially when it is such a valid one.

“I… Fear that our child may get Amber Lead Poising. It is a hereditary disease,” Law mumbles.

This makes his wife freeze up. She knows his pain with that. The fear of it. He must have been bottling it up until he just could not ignore the possibility. With a gentle sigh, (Name) places a tender kiss on his lips, momentarily distracting him from his painful thoughts.

“My love, please come back to bed. After a few more hours of sleep, you can come back in here… And no matter what happens with our child- I have faith that you will find a cure. Until then, try not to worry. Otherwise, you are going to send yourself into an early grave by putting all that stress on your heart,” (Name) says as a yawn escapes her.

Law can only smile now. She truly is his best friend. His other half. She knows how to ease his worries even if it is temporarily, but what she said… It also rings true. He vows to find a cure in the case that their child will get that stupid disease.

~*~

The rest of the pregnancy goes by quickly and as soon as the baby, a girl, is in their arms it feels like total bliss for them. It is everything they never imagined having but makes their lives totally complete. Her middle name is in memory of Law’s younger sister. The full name being Trafalgar Lami Lin.

“She looks like you already- Look at those wide (eye color) eyes,” Law says with a gentle smile on his face.

He never imagined he could allow himself to be this soft and vulnerable. To share it with (Name). His wife laughs as she leans against his arm as he holds their little girl in his arms. Both (Name) and the baby are exhausted.

“Thank the gods she does not look like a mini sleep-deprived version of you. Well, if she takes my looks, I only hope she gains your intelligence,” (Name) jokes.

Law smirks at the playful tone and as if he remembers sighs- “I forgot to tell you. What is left of the crew will be coming here tomorrow. They were even more excited than us combined.”

“Looks like we got a couple of free babysitters… I trust Bepo with her. Sachi and Penguin might drop her.”

Law sweatdrops at this and wishes he could argue back but… His wife is right. He makes a mental note to have Bepo be their go-to babysitter.

~*~

Days pass by fast when you feel joy and they pass even faster when you feel like the world suddenly has a time limit on it. Law promised his wife to enjoy the days with them and he did, but he spent countless nights trying to find a cure- Getting so close to finding something that can help in the case his daughter gets the disease.

The baby grows quickly into a child, but it was the age of five when Law realizes that she has those stupid white spots on her skin- Meaning she has Amber Lead Poisoning. He felt like he was suffocating. She was not supposed to get it. He paid his dues during his piracy. His loss of Rosinante. His loss of family. He paid whatever the hell life thought he owed it, so she was supposed to be in the clear.

She was not.

He knows that is just wishful thinking. His whole family got it and Amber Lead is a hereditary disease. He was supposed to die at age thirteen. He did not all because he ate a fruit thanks to Rosinante. Just because he ate a fruit and cured himself does not mean he could actually cure Amber Lead with his fruit.

He could try and cure Lin as he did himself. Using the fruit’s "miraculous" properties which is having the ability to cure any kind of illness. However, this requires some extent of medical knowledge in order to be utilized effectively. He has that knowledge, but he does not have the full knowledge to cure others of this disease. He cured himself because he ate the fruit.

He needs a real cure. One to ensure that this disease does not follow into the genes anymore. He wants to ensure that if his daughter wants a family of her own- If she makes it to that age, he wants her to be able to not have to think about her own children having the disease.

He estimated she would only have a few years left. Until those white spots grow big enough to almost devour her. His blissful life turned into a nightmare for him. He always could not stand the thought of losing (Name) and the feeling was deeper with their daughter Lin since she was only a child.

She deserved a long and happy life.

He was going to sacrifice his time to ensure that.

It was during one of these nights when he cursed out life for being cruel that Law had an epiphany. Something in his research began to make sense for a cure- It was uncertain, but it was something and it was this night that his wife was woken up when he got up out of excitement to begin writing on a large board he put together. He accidentally dropped a book nothing too alarming, so he was surprised to see his wife checking on him.

Her large eyes watching the board- Trying to decipher his valid obsession of finding a cure. He could not contain his excitement as he pauses briefly to place a kiss on his wife’s lips.

“Whoa. You are super cheery for once,” She notes.

Law can only smile. “I think I am close to finding something. A cure. It would still be a while before I have something solid but… This is it. It has to be it.”

Hearing this fills (Name) up with excitement too. Only to see Law experience a crash. He is at his limit for tonight since he spent all day shopping with his daughter and wife to go to Penguin’s birthday (definitely an alcohol) party. He should be totally spent after today.

(Name) only hugs him feeling his body immediately relax into hers and he freezes upon remembering something. Pulling back slightly he looks at his darling wife and places a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey… I do need to tell you something. If this lead goes nowhere. I am going to use the Ope Ope no Mi fruit on her,” Law states.

(Name) freezes in his grip. Understanding these words. That means he is going to sacrifice his life for their daughter if he can’t make a cure. He is willing to use the fruit’s powers for what others have wanted it for. Immortality.

He is willing to grant their daughter “eternal youth” if it means she can experience life without the disease affecting her.

His mind is dead set on that backup plan so all (Name) Can do is nod. He smiles at her though as to reassure her.

“That is just a backup plan. We still have a few years left but as of now, I do believe it is time to get in contact with that crazy pirate- Luffy. I need him to bring Chopper here. With Chopper’s help this should work,” Law murmurs more to himself.

He is exhausted.

“Alright Love- I will go get in contact with them. I will send a letter. Though… I think you should head to bed. You did well. You are such a good father,” (Name) murmurs.

Hearing this… Law really feels like he might break. All of these restless nights are going to be worth something. He is going to do what his dad almost did for his younger sister. He will cure his daughter and be able to watch her grow.

“Law… You are getting my hair wet with your snot and tears.”

“Shut up,” He mumbles as he holds his partner.

She laughs and the two stay like that- Content that there is hope for their daughter.

#my writing #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #fanfiction #one shot #one piece fanfiction #one piece one shot #fluff #angst #female reader #mentions of pregnancy

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yanderart · 4 years ago

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Took me longer since the “drabble” that was supposed to accompany this turned into a kind of extensive one-shot, but here’s the next installment in the Yandere POV series. Inspired by a juicy request from some thoughtful anons!

Below the cut is, as customary, a fic I wrote exploring the underlying themes of the portrait (creepy best friend tamaki x reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: usual yandere content (delusion, obsession, deceit, etc), explicit noncon, violence, Tamaki making the frienzone his bitch. Generous implementations of the pet name “bunny”.

If you had known the chain of events that would spiral from telling Tamaki about your new relationship… well, perhaps you would’ve stayed quiet. It wasn’t like it was that serious yet either, but you had an inkling (“I really like this one, Tamaki”) that made it worthwhile enough to mention in your book. Remarkable enough to share with your very best friend.

Besides, in your defence, you really had no way of knowing just what hid behind his agitated reaction. Nerves stretched thin, voice terse as he congratulated you with a smile that appeared a little too bright, a little too strained. With someone like Tamaki, it was easy to go chalk it all up to his anxiety, stress or an unfortunate mix of both.

So easy to underestimate him, wasn’t it?

Nevertheless, there were no uses for any what ifs in your future, speculations and paranoia not even close to creeping up on you yet. So almost a week after your reveal, when you got a call from Tamaki himself, you didn’t even hesitate as you picked it up in the last few dredges of your work shift.

“Need something?” you answered distractedly as your fingers continued typing on your keyboard, sorting out the last few remnants of some menial task.

The prolonged silence however, only brokered by a subtle sound you identified as actual sniffling, was your only response. Your hands stopped mid movements then, brows furrowed with worry.

“What’s happening, dear?”

This time your voice was as calming as you could compel it to be, your tone trying to imbed reassurance into every syllable, “Tamaki?”

You heard what sounded like a whine, a strangled sound that conjured up an image of tears trailing down his cheeks, bottom lip quivering in a sorrowful grimace.

Calling him dear despite having a boyfriend now, it was like you were taunting him.

“Bunny,” Tamaki’s voice was shaking as he called you by your old nickname, sobs making it hard to understand anything but how panicked his intonation was. “I-I need you.”

Thinking your pro-hero friend was having another budding panic attack, or perhaps on the brink of a new stress induced mental breakdown, you were on your feet before he even stopped speaking. The protective side of your brain had overridden any apprehension to leave your post, your hands already reaching to turn off your work computer before you wordlessly left your desk.

You were working overtime, anyways, and any consequences that came out of going to your friend’s aid were well worth facing in your book. And by that point too, you knew enough of all of their schedules to know yours would be the easiest to clear. Mirio and Nejire had their own heroics to worry about, while you only had an unremarkable office job to account for.

Not like he’d want Mirio or Nejire there, though. Not like he would ever call for them when he had you.

“I’ll be right there, Tamaki. Please stay put,” was the last thing you told him before hanging up and rushing to get your coat.

The urgency in his timbre, the utter need, was all you could think of as you left your building in quickened strides.

And by the way you were rushing, it was clear that you actually cared for him, your very best friend. All you needed was a gentle reminder of just how much.

You got to Tamaki’s apartment in a matter of minutes, letting your cab driver keep the change as you stumbled up the stairs in urgent skips. It wasn’t the first time he asked you to be there for him (asked you without actually saying it, because he would never dare utter the words), yet you knew enough of the turmoil he went through on a daily basis. A pro-hero he might be, but his anxiety was his eternally undefeated foe.

Although was it really that bad if it kept bringing you two together?

Opening the door into a room enveloped by shadows, you dropped your things without a care before attempting to make your way into the living room.

Barely a heartbeat later, an audible hitch in someone’s breathing alerted you quickly of your friend’s location.

“Y/N?” his voice sounded hoarse and choked up as he called for you. And it felt like a fist was squeezing your heart, the same that had been consistently gripping your chest ever since you first picked up the phone in your office.

“I’m here, dear.“ You comforted him while redirecting your steps to the sound of his trembling voice.

Despite the darkness, your eyes were acclimatized enough to distinguish the silhouette of his body hunched over the only sofa in the room. Even without getting a glimpse at his face, you could sense defeat and pessimism oozing off of him in waves. As you got closer, however, he made no movements of retreat, nor flinched away when you sat beside him.

Instead, it was like his body started to release all of his pent-up tension as a response to your proximity.

You were there and it was like he could finally breathe. You were there for him, right where you were meant to be.

One of your palms was reaching out and drawing quick circles across his back, the thin fabric of his t-shirt bunching up while your voice hummed what you hoped was a tranquilizing melody. With the other one, you clasped one of Tamaki’s own vacant hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, almost as if you were willing the worries to leave his body, a piper’s songs coaxing them out in the form of your enticing presence.

By that point, you knew enough about his episodes to know physical contact and reassurance were the fastest ways to get him to come back up from his lowest of lows. So it was no wonder, then, when your reward came quickly in the form of a content sigh leaving his lips, anguish still visible in his posture but his body clearly leaning into the solace you offered.

The balm you provided had always been intoxicating for him.

“I… I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he stuttered through distressed hiccups. He looked so fragile like that, so much like a kicked puppy, that you instinctually wrapped your arm around his waist and hugged him closer to your side.

“Oh, Tamaki…,” you shushed with a note of guilt, preoccupied with the fact that he would ever think you’d leave him hanging, “why would you even say that?”

You could feel his shoulders stiffen in your embrace, his hand tightening around yours for a moment before going limp in your grip. His lack of an answer stung even more.

It was ridiculous truly, to feel so protective over a man who was a pro-hero and clearly several times your strength. Even hugging him like you were, his lanky silhouette overshadowed yours in an almost comical portrayal of your height difference.

But he was your dearest friend —taking care of him came as second nature.

He adored you for it.

“You know I could never ignore you when you need me,” you whispered as your thumb drew patterns on the hand you were holding, soft insignificant drawings that to him felt like ancient secrets being exchanged. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

It was always like this with you two. Tamaki stayed quiet while you rambled on in his ear, trying to scatter any doubts or anxious thoughts still clouding his mind. At first you had thought it’d be annoying for him, overbearing in the worst of senses, but he had quickly insisted that you always knew just what to do to calm him down. You were his best friend, the one person besides Mirio and Nejire who just got him, who truly understood…

So it only made you feel guiltier, to think that you wouldn’t be able to help him this one time. He was a hero who saved countless lives, someone whose time was worth more than you could ever hope to achieve as a meager civilian. And yet you couldn’t even comfort him as a friend?

But it wasn’t your fault. You just needed to unlearn your behaviour. And if he truly was your best friend, didn’t you want him to feel loved too?

Which was precisely when an idea came to you, an epiphany from above in the form of a vivid memory of the last time you two met up, of the news that had seemingly left Tamaki acting oddly sour.

“You didn’t think I’d just forget about you because I have a boyfriend now, did you?,” you joked good-naturedly.

Only instead of having the comforting effect you’d hoped, your comment resulted in your friend stiffening even more, his face finally snapping to look at you with hurt written all across his features. The strength was back in the manner in which he was now seizing your hand, clasping it until you started to feel the blood circulation being slowly cut off.

“Isn’t that how it works, though?” His question was fretful on his tongue, barely above a whisper and with the slightest hint of resentment. His eyes were impossibly wide, impossibly alert as he studied your reaction, “Isn’t your boyfriend supposed to be your priority? The person you care for the most?”

But even with the switch in his behaviour and the worrisome path his words were taking, you were still too preoccupied by him to heed any of it. It was just Tamaki over analyzing things, as always, and his anxiety popping in to get the better of him.

“Human relationships don’t work like that, dear.” And there the fucking nickname was again, that jest of a loving pet name on your lips. “It’s not a hierarchical structure. I care about both of you in different ways.”

It felt silly to explain it out loud, to say such an obvious thing, but you couldn’t help wanting to appease some of the conflict eating away at your friend. Did he really think you’d ever drop him for anyone else? You had known Tamaki for years now, cared for him for what felt like a lifetime. The thought alone seemed completely ludicrous to you…

Even as his touch started hurting, as you felt a stern pressure that would surely become a bruise on your wrist, all you could think of was that this was just Tamaki being Tamaki, right? And you just needed to calm him down, like you always did.

He saw the misery on your gorgeous face, the blossoming pain colouring your expression despite your attempts at hiding it. For once, he wasn’t the only one hurting anymore, and he oddly enjoyed that.

“You’re saying that, but why… why can’t I believe you?” It sounded like he was conflicted, tone frantic as he attempted to wrestle down whatever doubts were increasingly plaguing his mind. He tugged at your wrist with a clenched fist, stealing a whimper out of you while his face got closer and closer, “Uh, I bet he doesn’t give you as much trouble either. Bet he takes care of you.”

I bet you love him was left unsaid. I bet you love him like I wish you loved me.

You attempted to push him off with your free hand at that point, discomfort quickly growing into annoyance despite your best intentions of being understanding. You were still under the impression that this was just a moment of clouded thoughts on his part, something bound to pass as he regained a grip of his senses. But the nerves flaring from the strength of his hold were impossible to ignore.

“Tamaki, let me go first,” you commanded in a carefully composed manner, still attempting not to sound as harsh as you would’ve if this was anyone but your anxiety ridden best friend, “and then we can talk about why you’re feeling like that.”

Yet his reaction was abrasive once more, twisting your arm by the wrist harshly until your entire body was collapsing into his.

“Don’t be like that. Don’t lie to me and tell me everything will be okay,” he was agitated, jittery and unstable in the way his eyes kept darting around. “All of this time I’ve been waiting… waiting to gather the courage…” He was making little sense now, just mumbling while he kept cradled your pained hand between his, a darkened gaze fluttering from your own eyes, to your lips and lastly some obscure point in the wall behind you. “And then you couldn’t wait for me anymore. And now you don’t need me.”

It was hard to think through the mist of your budding worry and the agony still emanating from your wrist. Somehow, your other arm had stopped fruitlessly hitting him and was instead just trying to keep him at a distance, your neck cramping from how far back you were trying to get yourself.

He was impossibly close, intense and expectant as his stare once again found its way to yours. You could still see the doubts twisting there, but it was rapidly becoming eclipsed by a new creeping resolution. Even while you continued silently fighting to escape his grip, as terror encased you and you tried to understand why your best friend was acting like that all of a sudden.

After that night, would you perhaps think a villain’s quirk was to blame? Or maybe you’d think one of his enemies had decided to impersonate him in a twisted bid for revenge? Surely you couldn’t accept what the reality was, the fact that his love for you was just that blinding.

Don’t worry, though, he’d make you understand.

Tamaki’s voice was feverish once he broke through the silence again, a new type of determination steadying his usual stutter in a way you’d never heard before.

“But I’ll fix that,” and then he was cupping your face with his free hand, your numb one still clutched tightly in his lap while his attention was diverted to your worried expression. “And then you will need me just as much as I need you. Then…“

And there was a pregnant pause before he continued, a space of time where his stare bore into yours full of hidden meaning, “We can go back to being best friends again.”

Somehow though, on his tongue the term best friends sounded suspiciously like something else entirely.

“Tamaki, listen…,” you tried again, refusing to quit still, before being interrupted by a terrifying sequence of actions unravelling.

Because he was tugging your wrist down again after that, but this time twisting and twisting until your entire field of vision filled with the aftermath of an unbearable pain. A snapping sound echoed in your ears, a scream clawing its way out of your throat before you had a notion of what was even happening —Tearing through the rest of your composure, probably hurting his ears just as much as it left your vocal cords feeling raw. By that point, the hand that was previously pushing at his chest with firmness had turned frenzied, clamped fists now carrying the weight of urgency.

Tamaki looked halfway surprised at his own actions, halfway scared. Halfway excited, too.

Following a pattern of behaviour which did little to deter the horror rapidly embracing you, your so-called friend inhaled thickly before, suddenly and without warning, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes were opened wide as you felt the pressure of his mouth claiming yours, taking advantage of your numb state to persuade you into opening up and allowing an even more intimate intrusion.

It has to be a nightmare, you thought in shock as his hands fluttered against your cheeks, sliding down to your neck and massaging your shoulders. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to stay still, where to touch or caress as his lips openly devoured you.

He waited so long for this, an eternity of yearning for someone right at his side.

“T-Tamaki,”i, you willed yourself into speaking up once he broke away from you, gasping for air and with his hair looking as wild as his gaze, “I don’t know what happened but… you’re not being yourself.”

Were you seriously still trying to deny his feelings? Trying to pretend like it hadn’t taken everything in him to finally gather his courage and just act. What a fucking friend you were.

If he didn’t love you so much, he’d hate you for that.

“You need help. Something happened”, you were rambling, too intimidated by the intent with which your friend was now listening to your words. “Once you’re feeling better, we can talk. I… I’ll promise to be understanding.”

And despite the throbbing sensation in your injured hand, despite the disgust at his actions and unadulterated horror, the worst part was that you really meant it…

But who were you really trying to convince at that point?

His hands were still on your shoulders, but the way they squeezed around your flesh reminded you of the talons you had seen him grow with his quirk, sharp nails sinking without a warning and driving more half-hearted cries out of your throat. You looked like a mess now, lips still plump from the force of his kiss, mixed spit clinging to your face from it, fat tears freely cascading down your cheeks.

“But… Y/N,” his voice was oddly soft when he addressed you again. There was a timid smile back on his face, one that reminded you of the friend you refused to believe no longer existed, and you briefly wondered if you had finally gotten through to him despite the unflinching strength of his grip, “I’ve never felt better.”

He genuinely sounded so relieved too, so content with the dark implications behind his words, that you felt the blood become icy currents in your veins, liquid fear being pumped instead in its place. Before you even realized your course of actions, you were leaning your head to the side and biting down on one of his arms with everything you had.

Tamaki was the one groaning then, retreating his hands instinctively and giving you the spare second you needed before you were jumping from the sofa and diving for the door.

It’s unlocked, was all you could think about as you leapt to the exit. You could get away if you just managed to cross it, run until your legs gave up on you. You could go to your boyfriend’s place and wait there until you had enough courage to reach out to the police, to a hero —to anyone who could help you. Things could still be fixed.

And maybe, just maybe, the silliest part of you added, whatever was clouding your best friend’s senses would magically be gone once you had gotten away from his grasp.

You never knew how to quit, truly. But it was okay, he liked that about you too.

A suffocated cry was all the sound you could make as you were fiercely shoved to the floor, your face smashing against the carpet and your nose making a horrifying sound before your entire head felt like it was on fire. The white-hot pain was all you could think of, the dam lifting entirely from your eyes as tears trickled down your cheeks in copious amounts.

“D-don’t make me hurt y-you,” Tamaki didn’t sound at all winded, but anxious, pained himself from the wounds he had to inflict on you, “I want to make you feel good, not like… like this.”

Which only made it more fucked up when, once you started fighting again, you felt the unmistakable pressure of a growing erection pushing against your lower back. As pained as you were, you willed yourself to keep struggling after that, trying fruitlessly to get away or somehow kick him, bite him, do anything in your power.

In all honesty, it only made him get more excited. He really was a sick, sick man. But only for you.

“Stop, Y/N,” Tamaki pleaded in hushed whispers, his hands shaking as he tried to comb your hair out of the way. There was blood pooling around your face, flowing freely from the place your nose had smashed into the floor. You could barely breathe through it, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you attempted to otherwise fill your lungs through panicked gasps, "If you… if you stop, I’ll stop too.”

It was easy to recognize the lie as soon as it was uttered, a poor excuse for deceit as his hips stuttered into yours almost of their own volition. You heard him curse then, right as you both noticed that all your wrestling did was just press yourself harder against his arousal.

However, before you could voice your growing terror, one of his hands was suddenly on your back, drawing circles in a mocking imitation of how you had tried comforting him earlier. The sickness in the pit of your stomach at that gesture, that feeble attempt at consolation, was all you could think about as the tears of impotence continued furiously trickling down your cheek.

You were disgusted, not only at the monster humping you as he continued mumbling poor excuses and null reassurances, but also sick at yourself for willingly going there to attempt to help him in the first place. You couldn’t believe part of you still stuttered to call him your friend moments ago, yet, even through your disgust, you’d also be lying if you didn’t admit how hard it was reconciling your aggressor with the soft spoken boy you had grown to foolishly treasure.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” his voice tickled one of your ears as he allowed himself to continue resting more and more of his weight on you, almost suffocating you under the pressure. He wasn’t even pretending like his hands weren’t wandering now, palms still mockingly gentle in their nervousness, but stopping his poor attempts at consolation long enough to grip your shirt and lift it up. “I don’t even remember what it felt like not to want you.”

You wished you could scream again, but breathing was already such a laborious task between your fractured nose and Tamaki’s hold. When you refused to turn on your back after he gently nudged you, his hands just closed tighter around your top and tore it apart from your body, leaving you shivering —not due to the cold but due to a fear and impotence that trumped any temperature.

Then, because he couldn’t even leave you to suffer in peace, you felt the torn fabric of your shirt being pressed against the side of your face, prodding you with a meekness that felt completely out of place as the cloth started to soak in the blood gathering around you.

“Press it against your nose, so it stops the bleeding.” He continued softly tapping it against your cheek until your unharmed hand went to roughly retrieve it out of his and do as he preached.

You could’ve told him nosebleeds didn’t exactly work like that when you had a busted nose, that just pressing a piece of cloth wasn’t going to help your case much (or that his kindness was void, when he was the reason you why were bleeding in the first place), but all of that implied talking, and right now all you wanted to do was shut up, pass out, dissociate. Whatever it took to ignore his fingers now drifting to the hem of your pants.

Yet he just wanted to take care of you. So why wouldn’t you let him? You were making it so difficult, when all Tamaki only ever wanted was to make you feel loved. Loved by him.

“You… hmm, you aren’t going to trust me right now,” it appeared like he was fidgeting with the waistband of your work pants as he drew out the admission, the thrumming in his voice sheepish and uncertain. It reminded you of how he would sound like when he attempted to talk to strangers, forcing himself into being pro-hero levels of courageous just so he could exchange a few words, “But that’s okay, Y/N, because you’ll understand.” One of his hands ghosted the plush curve of your ass, so lightly that you could’ve thought you imagined it in any other situation, “And when you do, you… you can break up with your boyfriend then. Things can go back to how they were. To just us.”

The image of your partner crowded your thoughts then, his kind smile being conjured up in your mind as you heard your pants being torn apart next. It was enough to have you openly sobbing, biting down on the fabric of your ruined shirt as you tried to quiet down the sound of your own grief.

But you’d thank him soon, once you understood. You already loved him before…so how hard could it be to love him again, but properly this time? To show him how much he knew you cared.

Once the remnants of your pants were thrown aside as well, you didn’t even get the luxury to cross your legs and put any kind of further struggle. Tamaki sat up on top of you, relenting the pressure in your chest and waist but comfortably setting himself on your hips, his legs encasing your thighs in an inescapable prison.

You could almost sense his eyes scanning your exposed flesh, hear his delirious muttering as his fingers got greedier and greedier in the paths they weaved across your body, the quick circles from before being exchanged by longer, drawn out movements. It felt like he was memorizing a map, with every little scar and indent in your complexion being the marks leading down to a hidden treasure, wonders to marvel at and inspect.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve dreamed of this for so long…” His tone was barely above a reverent whisper as you felt him finally reach your bra, unclasping it with a shaking that could only be attributed to unrestrained excitement, “dreamt of you even while awake.” He parted the fabric and left it precariously hanging off your sides on the carpeted floor, hands ceremoniously splaying across your shoulder blades next, “But you feel so different from anything I could’ve come up with. So much softer.”

His lips were on your back in an instant, almost as if he just couldn’t help himself, and he was sucking and licking while trying to cover up the sounds of his own elation. The slow grinding against your backside had stopped, though, and the weight of his heated groin lifted from your back for the first time since you had been crushed to the floor. It was such a relief, to be able to move again (even if you weren’t foolish enough to try and get away by that point), that you didn’t even realize the alleviated sigh managing to escape your mouth until it was too late.

You felt Tamaki’s lips curling against your spine, the satisfaction in his gesture crystal clear.

“Does this feel good, bunny?,” he asked you in a pleased little rumble, mistaking your sounds of relief for something else altogether. “Does it feel good when I kiss you like this?” He pointed his question by leaving another sloppy flutter of his lips against the nape of your neck.

But then his presence disappeared from your back altogether, a moment so brief that hopefulness could not even begin to be reborn before it was crushed at your feet. Because before you could savour the retreat,Tamaki was now grasping and lifting your hips with his arms, deft hands sliding the lone piece of underwear still hiding your modesty from his prying eyes.

You briefly wondered why he hadn’t just ripped it apart like he’d done with the rest of the items that got in the way, but the distinct sound of someone sniffing gave you all the answers you needed. Deep, earnest inhales followed by a purr of satisfaction. Goosebumps blossomed across your body from disgust.

But to him, that was just another sign of you being into it. You were just too stubborn to admit it, weren’t you, bunny?

“I’ll make sure to kiss you all over.” Your eyes were closed with such force, your intact hand losing colour from the strength you were using to grip the torn piece of fabric against your mouth. “If… if I’m honest”, and he was back to sounding sheepish, contradictorily embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one carrying out the assault, “Bunny, I’ve been wondering how your moans sound for the longest time, too.”

If you weren’t as determined not to let a single sound slip out, you would’ve gagged. But all thoughts of Tamaki’s words were soon replaced by his actions, cold calloused hands snaking between your legs as the pro-hero’s arms kept a secured grip that made sure you could not wiggle out of his grasp. He was hunching over you again, dark purple hair tickling your thighs, and your exposed entrance twitched as a gust of air was blown directly into it.

You wanted so badly to cry out, to protest again, but you were afraid of ever loosening your grip on the fabric that covered your mouth. So instead you tried to steer your body, not to get away but to move your damaged hand until it was being crushed by your own chest, new waves of pain radiating off of it in order to distract you.

Were you that afraid of liking it, that you’d take your own pain over the pleasure he’d deliver?

“Bunny,” he groaned that nickname again, laying a bed of kisses across your inner thighs, slobbering and disorganized while his hands kneaded your flesh with acute urgency. “Y/N…”, your name was chanted like prayer, the holiest of incantations being whispered into the flourishing goosebumps of your inner legs.

It was hard not to squirm when you physically felt his voice reverberating through your body, when the hands holding you up were so excruciatingly close to your now quivering hole. Even while fear coursed through your veins, what you dreaded the most was the way heat was starting to pool in your stomach.

You tried pressing harder against the limp hand below you, but Tamaki’s arms steadied you from their place around your legs before you had the chance to properly act.

“Stop trying to hurt yourself, please,” and to his credit, he actually sounded anguished himself, although you doubted it was due to the same reasons you were currently suffering. “I want to make you feel good, bunny. Please… please let me.”

He was kissing the skin of your thighs again before you had the opportunity to argue (not that you’d consider willingly opening your mouth again by that point). Your assailant trailed a path of shivers until he was hovering over your mound, tickling you with his quickened breathing as a wanton groan reached your ears.

“So beautiful,“ and his nose was pressing against you, face nuzzling your cunt with such an affection that only helped to make you feel infinitely dirtier, his voice dripping with reverence. “My bunny’s beautiful little pussy.”

You were wriggling again before you could attempt to calm yourself down, the alarms that had never stopped blaring now drowning any other thoughts circling your mind. But you had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, and before another moment passed your entire body was tensing up again when you felt a wet appendage slowly licking up your folds.

He explored you through the movements of his tongue, guttural sounds of appraisal being smothered as he tasted your plush folds for the very first time. Even without the aid of his arms, still holding you up as they were, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he did not need them in order to thoroughly savour you.

So long he had been deprived of all sustenance, teased by your hugs and touches and left to starve while you went to seek affection elsewhere. Maybe he was undeserving, but could anyone blame him for finally snapping after so long? For finally, for once, daring to be selfish enough to demand.

“Delicious,” his trembling compliment was proclaimed between licks, lips slowly journeying their way to your clit before he was audibly sucking it in, his own whines echoing through your entire body once more and making you bite down harder on the bloodstained cloth. “And… you’re getting wet for me too,“ which was only accentuated by the lascivious sounds he made as he started lapping at your rapidly gathering juices. “Am I making you feel good, bunny?”

Shut up, you wanted to scream, shut up and just be done with it. But it was getting so hard to concentrate, your fingers cramping from the force you were using to keep the piece of your torn up shirt tightly in place. He kept gingerly savouring your unwilling excitement, relentless in the way his tongue continued teasing and prodding, even dipping into your heat as his gluttony for you became an unbearable constant.

When you felt one of his hands descend from your thighs, the sound of a belt being unbuckled, your eyes opened up again in fear. You almost stopped biting down on your shirt in order to voice one last protest, but then his mouth was wrapping itself harder still around your bundle of nerves —shoots of a pleasure you tried to ignore warming their way further up your stomach as the unwanted thrills in your gut built up to a crescendo.

“Fu… fuck, Bunny,” he sounded so needy between the squelching sounds filling the darkened room. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

You shook your head as the pressure kept building up, muscles cramping and your one free leg attempting to kick him out fruitlessly. Your head was filled with the cries you could not voice, heavy with an agony that far exceeded any physical turmoil. You wished the pain was enough to pass out, to mute the heat coiling up further and further, but such was your plight that not even the faintest mercy was granted.

Although even your silent rejection only served as encouragement in Tamaki’s mind. It was the first time you were acknowledging him, the first time you were responding to any of his comments after he had tackled you to the floor. Even with your mouth covered, the tears now dried against your mascara stricken cheeks, it felt to him like the sign he had been waiting for.

It only drove him madder.

You heard clothing being tugged down while he kept the eager rhythm of his tongue on you, pants and boxers being discarded in one go to free a surely painfully aching erection. Not long after that, his breathing became even more ragged against your core, one of his shoulders moving against your thighs rhythmically while his previously free hand stroked himself for some much needed relief.

The sounds he started to make, accompanied by the slow pace he was setting as he tugged at his own cock against your dangling legs, were ones of desperation and debauchery—whines that filled you up right alongside his intruding tongue. It made you curl your toes, close your eyes again as you tried and failed to will the sensations away.

You thought your teeth would snap at any moment too, just from how furiously you were biting down. Yet your cunt kept pulsating against his flushed face, answering to his relentless teasing by coating his mouth in more your juices, strings of saliva mingling with them as you felt the wetness gathering around his chin too.

“You… you don’t need to fight it,“ he was whispering right into you, humming the sounds until they were forcing themselves inside right alongside his tongue. “You can cum, Y/N,” and with the hand he wasn’t touching himself with, he finally freed your other thigh as well, opting instead to trail a path with his extended palm until he was reaching out for your face.

You were so tired, so preoccupied with the unwanted pleasure clouding your vision, that the thought of attempting to escape again didn’t even cross your mind. Both of your legs were now limp, supported only by his shoulders positioned below them, and the sounds filling the air were wet, squelching and downright sinful.

Which was why, when his palm started caressing your cheek, you were too far gone to run from the new coercive intimacy of his touch. His tongue was pulsating in and out of you, and yet your insides felt impossibly warm, impossibly empty.

“Bunny,“ that damned pet name again. It was something you remembered him calling you first after a particularly bad panic attack, sheepishly whispered as you held him and rocked the both of you in a calming motion. Only now it sounded absolutely depraved, filled with a lust that terrified you, and the word sullied as it was now half-moaned while Tamaki jerked himself off to your torment.

Or was it pleasure at that point? You kept wriggling, but he didnt think you wanted to get away anymore.

Some part of you noticed his rough fingers drawing circles again into the covered side of your face, another cruel joke that mimicked the way in which you had always thought appropriate to soothe him.

“Please,” he begged you and kept repeating it, mixing in the pleads with the insistent licks of his tongue, the shaking in his own face warning you of the furious pace his other hand was now setting for himself.

Please, please, please. Bunny, please.

Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, gasping for air and with a new current of despair trailing down from your dazed eyes, mimicking the arousal surely dripping down his lips.

You had never felt something like what you were experiencing, an orgasm so potent that it transformed your body into such a limp and pliant thing, enticing your mind into a forceful lull as Tamaki dedicated himself to drinking every last drop you unwillingly offered.

To your subsequent shame, the hand tenderly holding you pried the crumpled shirt away from your mouth. He was finally freeing the sounds you so selfishly kept from him, and by that point you were too far gone to think of stopping him, your cries and wails filling up the shadows of the room until they were bursting at the seams.

It felt like forever as you kept cumming and cumming, feeling like you were forcefully plunged from one climax straight into the next. Tamaki refused to separate from your heat, instead opting for continuing to mouth his appreciation right into your tender flesh.

“So gorgeous for me. So good. My sweet little bunny,” he wasn’t even trying to be coherent at that point, rapidly reaching his own peak now that he had you breaking down underneath him, now that he could finally witness your undoing at his hands.

While your orgasm reached its shaking end, however, your cunt clenching against nothing as Tamaki’s face finally left it alone and pulled back, you were again too preoccupied with the aftermath of your own pleasure to sense anything amiss. You failed to acknowledge the pause in his own movements, how his hand had stopped his own ministrations in order to reach out for your glistening folds instead, nervous digits twitching as they gathered your juices between them.

It almost hurt when he trailed your sex, your flesh sensitive still from the force of the after shakes still coursing through your body. A new unfiltered whine left your throat, jaw starting to ache from all the strength you had previously used in your bid to keep those very same sounds securely muted.

“Tamaki, please…” You sobbed, intending on pleading with him to stop, to grant you the mercy of wallowing in your shame all by yourself.

But all he could hear was the intoxicating sound of his name on your lips, your tone heavy from exhaustion and being utterly spent. It was the greatest melody you could’ve provided him with.

“F-fuck,” his exclamation was equal parts devotion and raw need.

After his fingers were retreating, it wasn’t long before you felt him lowering your hips gently. The warm pressure of his cock prodded at your entrance, already coated with your fluids and only getting messier as Tamaki trailed it up and down your slit.

“No, wait. Tamaki, wait,“ your voice was distraught and still feeble, what little struggle that still managed to cling to you coming back with a reckoning as a new kind of panic started setting in.

Of course he wasn’t wearing a condom, and of course your pleas did little to stop him now. A heartfelt sound of protest shook your vocal cords as he slowly breached your cunt, his cock sliding in inch by inch while drawing long, wet sounds out of you.

In reality, all he could hear was the sound of his name on your lips. You could’ve been insulting him with all of your might, Tamaki didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself even if he wanted to.

“Fuck, Bunny,” his hands fluttered between your thighs in hiccuped movements, fingers stretching your nether lips in order to give himself a better view of the place where your bodies joined, the sacrilegious union he had oh so desired for years now. “So,, he kept breaking into you inch by inch, “fucking,“ the length of him feeling eternal as he sheathed himself, “perfect.”

You had barely any time to adjust to being stuffed before apologies were scattering out of his mouth, actions contradicting as his hips rut into you, hands making sure to keep you on display for his gluttonous eyes. It was your new brand of torment— how snug he fitted inside, how full you felt and the way his shaft curved just enough to quickly turn any discomfort you were first experiencing on its head. You wanted to feel pain, but even that was out of your reach too.

You were chasing after a distraction, but why did you need to be running in the first place? You needed only to keep still, lay back and let your best friend take care of you for once.

The pace he set was slow, excruciatingly so as he savoured the way in which your cunt clenched around him, the way your walls spasmed with the memory of the orgasms he gifted you with earlier. He kept hitting that spot every few shallow thrusts too, the patch of skin on your insides that made you grind your teeth while whines still somehow managed to leak out. It was with maddening guilt, then, that your mind realized the extent with which your body truly welcomed him.

You felt dirty, violated by a man you had trusted for years, someone you had considered family beyond reproach. And while he kept drilling into you in that leisure way of his, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you had done to get him to obsess over you like that. What exactly you could’ve changed to stop your life from being utterly ruined.

But with all honesty, the answer to that was nothing. Because even without the pressure of your new boyfriend to pull him into motion, Tamaki doubted he would’ve been able to keep himself from you for much longer.

He had loved you for so long and for so many different reasons; Your laughter which was the greatest symphony to his ears, the kindness you had always embraced him with, free of judgement and ulterior motives. Your caring soul, too, and the way in which he just knew you understood.

“Please, please,“ and you didn’t know why you kept begging, your mouth running off on its own accord as your body tried to squirm against your intruder’s, unclear whether it wanted to escape or get even closer. “T-Tamaki.”

But most of all, he thought he loved the way you cried out while he fucked you now, a wrecked mess for his eyes alone.

“Do you think you can come again for me?” he asked you between frayed exhales, still oddly meek as the shallow thrusts into your hole made sweat drip down his skin and bathe you in its shine. “I know you must be tired but… I wanna… wanna hear it properly.” And there was an underlying greed just below his apologetic tone, a craving you wondered just how long had been there waiting to be let out, “Wanna feel it, too.”

It appeared like his own words excited him to a notorious degree, because he was rutting into you with quicker motions now, the sound of skin slapping against skin driving the despair even further into your heart. Your afflicted hand didn’t even throb anymore, your nose barely a faint nuisance either, for all you could think about was the way you contracted around him, the way the coil in your gut was once more beginning to tighten to a feverish degree.

And the palm against your clit too, which had stopped pressing against it in order to extend its fingers and circle them around, prodding and pushing until you were being overwhelmed by him, devoured on the carpeted floor with a face caked in blood and a body sore and resentful yet so damned inviting.

Your cunt was holding him so tight, it felt like you didn’t want to let go, like you needed him there… it made Tamaki, someone who had spent his entire life feeling different degrees of inadequate, think he had finally found a place to belong to.

“Shit, Y/N, you’re… really gonna cum again? For me?” You didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to feel him, but when he pulled out almost entirely you found your hips shamefully pushing back until his length was being swallowed whole again. “Fuck,” you heard him curse as his hands left your sopping folds in order to grip the meat of your backside, barely contained strength nailing you to the spot as he set a new frantic rhythm, “so… needy for me. So tight and beautiful, does my bunny want it harder now?”

He was hitting your spot in relentless movements, his own hips stuttering as he strived to hold back his own impending end, and the groans coming out of you felt like they belonged to a different person. The tears in your eyes were still free falling, the taste of dried blood still covering your tongue as you continued audibly panting, and the tension in your muscles resembled a taut bowstring about to snap from the pressure.

Of course you didn’t answer, but you didn’t have to when your body spoke for you.

His pace was bruising, his hands kneading your flesh as he angled you just enough to get even deeper inside you. Yet not deep enough.

“I love you so goddamn much,“ one of his palms left your rear so he could grab one of your shoulders, forcing you to arch back just as he demanded. “Let me show you just how much, baby.”

By that point you were so tired, so drained from holding back, that you allowed him to manhandle you until your back was pressed flush against his stomach. His palm snaked their way from your shoulders to your chest, quickly pushing what little of your unhooked bra still clung to your frame so he could fully expose your breasts to his zealous treatment.

Your nipples were hard already, you really were loving this, weren’t you?

In this new position, it somehow felt like he was pushing against places you had never felt anyone reach before. Like, in a way, he was bruising your cervix with every one of his overeager thrusts, testing himself in order to go as far as your body would allow him. So fucking greedy for you.

Tamaki kept massaging your breasts while he fucked you, sensitive nipples being lightly toyed with while he buried his face in your neck from behind for an instant. Because unable to stay still as he was, soon enough his lips had started to kiss a slobbering path of adoration upwards into the shell of one of your ears.

“I know you… fuck, know you don’t love me like that yet,” he sounded feverish while he continued to thrust into you, voice faltering to the weight of his own lust, “but it’s okay. Right now…” He pulled out almost entirely again, only to dive in with all the more resolve before you had the chance to buck into him a second time, “I can love you enough for the both of us.”

And just like that, with the man you had previously considered your best friend whispering delirious nonsense behind you, his breath tickling your nape with each aggravating declaration, was when the overwhelming wave of your new orgasm hit you, shaking your entire body.

So fucking tight and needy for him. With your body clamoring for him like it did, who could blame him for foolishly thinking you felt the same way? Even if you tried refuting it afterwards, the way your walls clenched around him so delectably was all the honesty he needed.

Your body went limp in his hands a second time, for him to hold up and embrace as he saw fit, and you sensed the cadence of his motions grow even frenzier before finally slowing down into a sporadic rythm, his sex twitching inside you in a most telling way.

He was calling out your name in a litany of prayers, biting down on the skin he had gently been nursing before, teeth piercing you and joining the rest of the sensations overwhelming your spoiled body. And that was really all the warning you got before his release was spilled deep inside you, painting your walls in thick ropes of white while the remnants of your powerful orgasm proceeded to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

Through the mess of pleasure and shame clouding your vision, your sobbing became even louder.

“See, Y/N,” Tamaki whispered a few instants later, back to his nervous ways despite grinning timidly while his arms circled around you, “even if you tell me you care about someone else now, I’ll know you’ll never share with them what you shared with me.”

And it was such a ridiculous thing to say, preposterous words to proclaim as he refused to pull out and let any drop of his cum leak out of your bruised hole, as the heated hands on your skin replicated the same old patterns you had taught him inadvertently, the same motions supposed to bring comfort and which in reality only made you feel fouler.

“If you’d like, we can be an even more special type of best friends now,” he added after barely a beat, almost self-conscious when confronted with your somber silence, yet still bashfully content about the whole ordeal.

Best friends, you repeated inwardly while his hands kept stroking you without pause, perhaps truly trying to console you, or perhaps just wanting an excuse not to leave you alone. But you were so tired, so devastated, that it wasn’t like you had the strength to refute him verbally.

In Tamaki’s delusional mind, however, that was as good as agreeing. You two were really meant to be. Even if you refused to be the special kind of best friends he had in mind, he could always become your boyfriend instead.

Not like you were ever going to see your previous one, anyways.

…

Probably the longest piece of writing I’ve posted so far… and the filthiest. If people like it, I might start extending the lenght of my fics! Otherwise I’ll try to keep it on the shorter side for my next portrait/fic convo (a yan!aizawa one hehe).

And special thanks to my dearest pals @reinawritesbnha, @drxwsyni, @snappysnapo, @thermaflute and @coyambition. They helped me proof read, gave me precious feedback on both my writings and my art and were just overall sweethearts hyping me up!! love y’all fr fr 🖤

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN btw 🥀

#bnha fanart #tamaki amakiji #yandere bnha #tamaki x reader #bnha x reader #yandere tamaki #bnha imagines #bnha art #tamaki fanart #tamaki smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #anime fanart #mha fanart #yandere bnha x reader #artists on tumblr #just art tingz

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myelocin · 4 years ago

Text

of stars & skies | bokuto k.

Synopsis: Things sort of fall out of plan.

Genre: smut, fluff | WC: 1400+

Characters: Bokuto Koutarou

A/N: this is a commissioned piece by @hvnlydmn

i love you more - son of cloud

commissions

If someone were to ask Bokuto Koutarou to summarize the things he feels about you, at best he’d answer with just a grin.

A grin, for now, because in the moment his thoughts are anything but coherent. He can faintly recall that it’s only sometime between four or five in the morning, and the both of you really should be asleep but that’s far from the case.

Still, it’s the feel of your fingers clawing at his thighs that make him grin. Head thrown back, groan hoarse and throat scratched, he parts his legs further apart.

It’s a nice sight, he thinks. 5ams and the dim light just barely starting to peek through from the blinds. Your hair, messy and sticking out in more places in one beneath him and the marks on his thighs in the exact shape of your fingernails painted red and angry. Bokuto knows by now that he really should be saying something before he busts a fucking nut right then and there, but you do the thing and swallow—again, and his head blanks.

You smirk; your jaw’s been aching for a while now, the skin on your knees not doing any better. When you inhale, you’re a little more careful than usual, trying to regain control.

Bokuto just arrived home from a game overseas a little over two hours ago, and you had planned for him to catch up on sleep before doing anything else—truly, but five steps through the door his tongue was shoved down your throat and his hands were behind you unclasping your bra and plans went to shit.

He groans again, hands tightening around your hair as he pushes his cock in deeper, profanities spilling from his lips. Beneath your fingers his thigh trembles, and when his grip relaxes, you take it as an opportunity to ease off of his cock, eyes locked on him.

He leans back, one elbow bent to support his weight as the other runs over the deep flush of his face at the sight of you. Bokuto had always been thick, and he’s always been more than aware of that, so it just does something to him to see you taking him whole despite looking so perfectly wrecked.

His cock twitches on your hand, and you smirk.

“Fucker,” he groans, eyes never leaving your form as you poke your tongue out and lean forward, swiping at the slick that’s gathered at the tip of his cock.

“Good fucking girl,” you hear him moan, the vibration of his voice doing its job in sending a shiver that shot through your body and right to your core.

And even though sex with Bokuto plays out like it’s some kind of routine, it’s little moments that differ from yesterday and today that makes things worth it. Much like him, you can never really get enough. The weight of his cock on your tongue is familiar, but the way his jaw tenses just a little different in today than last week’s makes your heart leap. Half lidded eyes that glimmer different every single time show you all the shades of the moon when it hangs like gold in the sky stare at you like you are the world itself, and even though your slick’s dripping down your thighs, all the feelings of love still beats in your chest.

Bokuto peers at you, words caught in his throat before he count think to say them, moans half groaned out, your name repeated like a prayer in pants.

He feels you swallow around his cock and he stills. By now he already knows that all it would probably take for him to cum was a couple more licks to his slit, and he should be focusing on that, but the dawn chooses the exact same moment to break through the sky.

Then it’s soft orange and pale yellow, filtered through the blinds. Spilling on the floor, climbing up the walls, and illuminating your eyes that stare at him.

You recognize the look too, and the timing of your lover’s sentimentality should be comedic if anything, but when his shoulders soften and you feel him pull you up and away from him, seating you on his lap, your brain blanks.

Love, like a wordless exchange in the mornings, because even if the dawn has broken through the black of the sky, you choose to let the silence linger just for a little while longer. Bokuto holds you by the waist, lifting you up and over his cock before he eases himself in with a low groan. Eyes locked towards you, from your end you see the colors of the stars while he’s awestruck, gazing at the sky.

He’s panting, and you’re shaking—a newfound presence that’s always blended itself in the atmosphere of the room even when you’re fucking enveloping the two of you like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“I love you,” he says, the truth in his words finally breaking past its earlier barriers.

“I love you, I love you, I fucking love you,” Bokuto whispers, the tone of his voice half a moan and a confession, bottom lip in between his teeth as he thrusts up, and pulls your waist down to meet him halfway simultaneously.

And you feel it.

The kind of love that’s always found you ever since you met him.

Because love—the kind that’s raw and real and present, flows better through feelings instead of words. Though when he thinks of it, he had never been exactly the type to have been much for words, so he supposes the sentiment remains.

He likes to think that love—his sort of love—has a habit of being uncovered in the mornings. Mornings like 5ams right before the dawn breaks and the world stirs. The frost from last night’s chilly air still on the windowpanes and the sun just barely waking. A world that thrives in progress and motion, the days starting with the intention to be lived before it ends. The forgiving kind of sun during sunrise, because it feels more warm than scathing on his skin.

Bokuto likes to memorize everything about you under a light like this.

He knows he’ll see all the shades of blue when you open your eyes, but for now it’s the hue of the skin on your eyelids and blush of your cheeks that he sees. Bokuto chokes out another confession that reaches you, his fingers digging deeper into the skin of your waist, his breaths labored and roughed, perfectly matching yours.

Another inbetween makes itself known, coming as the thought that mornings have always been your sort of thing. It’s always been funny how little epiphanies of just how in love he is with you choose to unravel in moments like these, but it fits.

The sound of your voice—his name on your lips, moaned, and huffed out in short breaths fits. If you lean forward and press your chest against his, which he knows you only do when you’re getting close and wanting to bury your face somewhere—fits.

(Like a puzzle piece that clicks in place, it fits.)

Love fits, and nestles in the cracks and corners of his life, and he’s only felt fulfillment since.

You feel his hips stutter, his grip tightening even more before he slams you to him once, twice, as he buries himself to the hilt and cums.

Bokuto feels you shaking, in a way he knows is good against him, so he laughs. And he’s quiet with his words as he sounds out the vowels of your name. Hands, gentle in the way it holds you—cradles you to him, because love is like that too.

As much as it bursts and makes him feel like he’s racing through a highway, blind and breathless, and euphoric—it’s also just holding you close to him at daybreak. You allow the silence to resettle, your hands reaching forward to cup his face as you open your eyes and look at the colors of the stars again, and Bokuto’s smiling.

(You are too.)

He sniffles, as do you.

Love hangs like the vines of a plant that resurfaces into the earth again and again despite the rough hands that time never ceases to bring.

“Hey,” you whisper, your forehead pressed against his, the smell of home and him a familiar one to you.

(I love you.)

And he knows you mean to say that, so he closes your eyes and leans in to your touch, because he’s safe, and here, and home.

(The way his thumbs rub circles on the skin of your waist tells you that he means to say I love you too.)

#nc.commissions #nc.ns//fw #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq smut #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #bokuto imagines #bokuto scenarios #bokuto x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

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sebbybooks · 3 years ago

Text

Wreck My Daydream

Part Two

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

18+

Tagged🎄

@wayward-mikaelson

Cataglottism

(n.) kissing with tongue

I’m already wet and Sebastian barely even touched me.

I hardly gave myself a moment to be ashamed or even stir in the crass words I was using even if I had only thought them. Like a diary I suppose there was no need to lie to myself considering it was one hundred percent true. I, Nellie Lennox, was unabashedly met with unending desires that washed away my trepidations that led up to this moment.

In its place I felt this newfound sense of possibilities that I wasn’t actually making an ass out of myself with my sudden confession of feelings for Sebastian. In my defense I didn’t just wake up one morning after having some epiphany as to why I wanted to be with him. The thought of us together made itself at home in the back of my mind.

Almost like a what if. . .

However, I couldn’t help but be terrified of all the ways it could go wrong. What if I had made things weird between us forcing us apart? Life would be a bitter existence if Sebastian wasn’t around in some capacity. For the longest time I tried to find him in different relationships. It is a messed up philosophy, but it almost worked. Whenever things would get too serious it nearly terrified me. I was their someday and they were my maybe. I owed this last relationship that is still so freshly cut more than that.

I owed myself that.

On the unique and rare chance I somehow got lost in a very realistic maladaptive daydream, I’m pretty certain Sebastian wants this too. Just thinking about what he had told me seconds ago made my heartbeat drum to a dizzy rhythm. Imagining myself getting fucked to the beat of it was a completely different type of sensation.

Retraining my focus on the now I could see it in Sebastian’s face all the wheels going around in his head. Confusion? Uncertainty? Regret?

“You don’t get to do that.” I tell him. I felt like I was going to climb out of my own skin if he left me suspended in the silence for a second longer. Sebastian tipped his face closer to mine, our lips gingerly brushing against each other. Perhaps he was feeling ambivalent in regards of his feelings for me? After all this was sprung on him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian shook his head as if he was at war with himself. “I want to.” His voice was strained and dangerously low, like something was causing him utter misery being this close, yet not knowing exactly when to pull away.

“Then why don’t you.” I dared him.

I was growing impatient with this slow burn we had somehow started. I wanted to play with this fire. If I got burned in the end by his touch then so be it. At least I would forever be marked with a reminder of knowing that I at least went after something I wanted with no apology. I wanted to see how far he was willingly to go.

Sebastian removed his hand from the security of being wrapped around me. I feigned a disappointed sigh at the lack of contact. My entire body must have been on autopilot , because I didn’t recognize the position I was in. I practically sat in his lap with one leg wrapped around him and the other one mindlessly dangling over the bed. Of course the mind reader that Sebastian was naturally grabbed ahold of the side of my thigh and wrapped it around his back.

It wasn’t like I was naive to sex or never had my fair share of romantic conquest. Regardless of my experiences I still felt like a gigantic ball of nerves. The way he stared down at me with a heated look in his eyes as if he wanted to posses every inch of me. Hell, I felt like I could come undone from that alone.

The hand that was planted on my back slowly drifted downward trailing the curve of my backside gripping my ass through my thinly silk hunter green shorts that matched the top. Earlier I had berated myself for wearing scantly clad pajamas to bed. Now I am thanking my lucky stars I opted out of the option of wearing a red Christmas onesie that had polar bears wearing scarfs around their necks. They were ones my mother insisted the whole family wear.

If I had I probably would not have been able to feel his erection that was restrained in his sweatpants. Trying to situate myself closer I rocked into him slightly, massaging myself on him. My ears didn’t miss the subtle groan Sebastian let out from the feel of my weight pressing further into him.

His silence wasn’t lost on me and he still hadn’t answered my question so I did it again. I wanted him to say something. My nervousness abated at this point. I twined my arms around his neck, grinding myself against him again and again. All the while Sebastian watched my every movement with a hint of a star struck look in his eyes. The feeling was certainly mutual I was even shocking myself at my behavior.

“Nellie,” Sebastian finally says, voice husky. He usually only ever calls me by my nickname so I was more than sure that he was not fully himself.

“I’m a big girl Sebastian I can handle whatever you need to say.” I tell him, holding in my breath.

“Alright,” he said with uncertainty. “You and me, this, it’s not a good idea.” His tone was barely audible and even more so he sounded hurt. Everything in me froze.

“And why is that?” I asked him more confused than ever. Suddenly feeling absolutely self conscious as I over analyzed every intimate word I just shared with him. I was even more horrified by the fact that I was dry humping my best friend.

He let out a darkly laugh. “It’s pretty damn obvious Nells.” Sebastian says rather ominously.

“...It’s not actually.” For someone that wants nothing out of this, Sebastian was holding on to me like an anchor and I on the other hand just wanted to get away and sink.

Admittedly, I was losing this game of tug a war. There was only so much I was willing to endure even I had my limits. “You’re giving me whiplash Sebastian .” I tell him honestly, “ I’m not like those other girls you go for that are satisfied with you just dangling yourself in front of them like a piece of cake that I can’t have. I meant what I said when I told you I didn’t say it just to hear you say the same.” My voice could only rise so high in pitch.

I definitely didn’t want to wake up the upstairs guest that would love nothing more than to recap this conversation over breakfast. Then like an unexpected bolt of lighting startling you from a distance, Sebastian kissed me.

Sebastian

I am a selfish bastard.

My mind fell quiet when I looked at her. I wanted to swim in the serenity and peacefulness that was this smart, vibrant, sexy, and uniqueness this woman possessed. I only wondered even in the darkness could Nellie see my eyes as plainly as I can see hers. If so could she see the shame reflecting in them? I could feel the nagging weight of my conscience siting on both of my shoulders, arguing back and forth over what I should and shouldn’t do. It was kind of ironic that the devil in my ear insisted that I give in to the angel in my lap.

God knows I waited for her and that I would keep waiting if I had to in this lifetime or the next. It was always going to be Nellie for me. I wanted to tell her all of this, but the longer I held on to this slice of heaven I was given during this random hour. I also knew that this moment was fleeting. I basked in the way she looked at me, the way she held on to me like I was an object of virtue. I also got a sample of what it would be like to lose her the second she began to slip away on her own accord. So, I did what any poor fool would do in my position. I kissed her.

It wasn’t exactly suave or how I imagined it would go. My mouth sort of crushed against her unmoving lips in a rushed and unskilled manner. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, I certainly could do a hell of a lot better than this. An yet, it was still like I predicted it would be, filled with pure unadulterated pleasure. Nellie’s lips were sweet and warm, exactly how I imagined forbidden fruit to taste like.

A perfect mixture of firm and softness that drove me wild. She flattened her hands on my bare chest as if to brace herself. Nellie pushed herself away, but her face was still so close to me. She didn’t speak and neither could I. I forced myself to look up at her and hoped that she could see I would do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness. That it was a mistake I will make right somehow.

“Nell,” I let out an exasperated breath. “ I have a need for you that goes deeper than just lust and I know that it will never truly be sated. The killer thing is I’m already at risk of losing you before I even had you.”

Nellie stared hazily up at me.“You already have me.” She whispered, our lips still grazing. Those four simple words set off a firework in me. This time when I kissed her our mouths came together like we needed to feed off of each other’s oxygen in order to survive. I’d suffer if I didn’t have it.

My mouth was greedy for hers, and I could imagine she felt the same. The moment I felt her lips slightly part open to let me in, less than a second our tongues slid together in a torrid and sensually slow pace. We kissed like a couple of eager teenagers. My heart threatened to leap from my chest when the tip of Nell’s tongue moved across my bottom lip. She tastes like gingerbread , mixed with some other divine flavor that I can only assume is Nellie. She arched herself closer into my chest and I could feel the points of her hardened nipples through her top. I seized the opportunity to press her body close because I needed more.

I wanted to feel the heat of her soft skin on mine. She returned her arms back around my neck tightly holding me in place as she angled her head kissing me back with the same ferocity. Deeply, and oh so thoroughly by the way she sucked on my tongue. I had a rough grip on her ass keeping Nellie steady as she straddled me. I was so damn hard for her. If my dick could get even harder it was bound to. Nellie did that thing again where she grinds down on my erection and I cursed at myself to not combust. I grabbed ahold of her hips guiding her to move faster, harder.

I kept telling myself to savor her, fucking take my time with this moment. I couldn’t just rip those tiny little shorts off and sink myself into her over and over until we’ve both had enough. But even then I would always need more of her. I wasn't a sentimental man, with Nellie I at least wanted to try. I wanted my first night with Nell to be a little less spontaneous than this. It wasn’t like I came prepared for festivities filled with endless fucks. Plus the added fact I couldn’t let things get too carried away especially since she still didn’t know what I have done.

Yeah, I am a very selfish bastard.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted my mouth to explore every single part of Nellie. I wanted the taste of her to live on my tongue. I wanted to go as far as she and my consciousness would allow me.

“I need to touch you.” I panted, between every nip and kiss I left on the delicate area of skin under her jaw.

“You’re already touching me.” She says with a soft laugh, which was a melody to my ears. I was but at the same time I wasn’t. I needed to rid Nellie of any barrier that prevented me from branding her skin with my touch.

“This…off.” I tug gently on the bottom of her tank top before returning my hands to rest on her thighs, caressing them as I sucked on her neck for dear life. Going back and forth between grazing her neck with my teeth then licking over the area to soothe any imprint I’ve left.

Nellie crisscrossed her arms reaching for the hem of her top gracefully pulling it over her head. She purposely fell backwards onto the mattress aiming her shirt at my face. For as long as I’ve known Nell she was never one to be shy in her own skin.

“Imagine how unsexy that would have been if I hit my head on the headboard.”

“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself I would have just pretended that I didn’t see a thing.” I teased.

“Ah, to think they wonder where all of the good men have gone.” Nell scrunched up her nose pretending to be lost in critical thought.

I cock my head to the side. “Mm-hmm. Are you mocking me?”

“What if I am?”Her plump wet lips spread into a smile.

It was miracle I caught a word of what she said to me. I swallowed a groan as my eyes drift over the area of her body that was naked from the waist up. Nellie was clearly a stolen painting from the Louvre that I had no intention of returning. All I could do was stare.

With her legs still draped around me, my hands slide up the curve of her torso passing her ribs. I sensed that she was watching me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her just yet. The pads of my fingers traced over to her breast and my mouth practically watered at the sight of them. She was ethereal.

“Don’t suddenly go mute on me Sebastian.” She let out a shaky breath.

I’ve heard her say my name a thousand times. Hearing her say it in this state created a feeling of warmth that filled my chest. I could only begin to imagine the different ways I wanted to hear her call out my name. My gift, my best friend, my Nellie. Those last words had a sting to them even as I thought them. Deep down I knew that was never going to be true.

I eased all the way down my tongue traveling around the dip of her navel. Creating a path up the center of her abdomen. I knew that Nell was extremely ticklish. The slightest form of contact would automatically turn her into a ninja. From the way she was pressing herself back into the mattress I knew she was trying her hardest not to flee. Of course I found it rather enticing so I made sure to spend extra time over the areas of her exposed skin I knew to be the most sensitive. Brushing the tip of my nose between her breast my mouth finally latched on to what I’ve been waiting for.

“So fucking beautiful.” I say as I graze my mouth over the stiff peak of her nipple. I was in awe over the ability that they simultaneously could feel hard yet felt extremely soft. I dragged the tip of my tongue around the bud of it in a languid movement before sucking it in deep. I loved listening to the sounds she made while I sucked and devoured as much as I could fit into my mouth. I wanted to hear a symphony of the noises that escaped from Nellie.

Going for one after the other not wanting to miss out on either. Nellie kept a limp hand pressed into my hair keeping me close as if I dared to stop.

Writhing underneath me Nellie gasped,“Touch me.”

Now she understood what I meant. My own body felt betrayed by my decision. I literally ached from pain and pleasure. Truthfully I wouldn’t opt for a better scenario than this. I would be more than gratified with giving Nellie an orgasm or two.

Still leaving featherlight kisses across her chest. With one hand I reach down and brushed along the dip of Nellie’s hip, then began to tug away at her shorts. To my surprise she was bare underneath. This was a new and uncharted territory we were crossing.

Tell me to stop, say that this is just the wrong time, tell me we would never work. Those words never escaped me, the sound of the goddamn doorbell intervened for her. My movements hesitated then shortly I picked up on inaudible chattering out in the hall. Nellie turned her head in the direction towards the door which I hoped like hell was locked. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on.” Her eyes widened.

“Or we could stay here and not shame the fact that I was two seconds away from wrapping your legs around my face while I tasted the slickness between your thighs. ” Nellie released a ragged breath and I meant every word.

To my dissatisfaction we were composed in under three minutes. I felt a strange sense of comfort and pride seeing that ever so often I’d catch Nellie looking in my direction smiling like she had some big secret she was bursting to tell. Which only made me feel like an even bigger asshole. The walk downstairs was surprisingly noisy. Someone had plugged the Christmas tree back up and there was a chilly wind breaking in as the front door came to an immediate shut.

Nellie’s parents were both moving around in a fast pace trying to find new spots to put a couple of suitcases. I had to swallow down a chuckle at the sight of their bold choice of pajamas. Nellie had already beaten me to the bottom of the staircase just as I rounded the corner of the spiral stairs.

“Cousin!” Vanessa squealed rushing over towards Nellie, who excitedly embraced her the same. They exchanged a few excitable words to each other that I tuned out. I was busy focusing on the six foot son of a bitch with a puppy dog expression on his face standing awkwardly behind them.

“Now you know Nells Bells you can’t have Christmas without good ole St. Nicholas can you?” She winked at a stone faced Nellie who just looked straight ahead at her ex boyfriend Nick. “I hope it’s okay I brought him over with me. I saw him at the airport dozed off in a chair.” Vanessa whispered as she leaned into Nell, like she just earned a gold star. Soon as Vanessa’s wild dark brown eyes caught ahold me I knew my bubble was about to pop.

“Something told me I was off the naughty list this year.” Vanessa bit at her glossed up lips and made a beeline towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She smelled like an overtly sweet perfume that tortured my sinuses. “Did you forget how to work a phone or what? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I miss you.” She cooed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nellie watching the two of us. This was my punishment.

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justmypartner · 3 years ago

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Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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honeypirate · 4 years ago

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Figure It Out part one (completed )

Masterlist

Hinawa x Fem!reader

Okay guys I really liked writing this even though I think it might be a little weird. It’s just the first part I have a lot more. very terribly edited

Warnings- maybe swears. Talks about a readers sisters death. Feeling so comfortable around Hinawa. Best friends with Hinawa. Aww.

You’ve liked Hinawa from the moment you met him. At first you liked him like anyone would like their superior but every day you were around him, the more you liked him. His hats, his jokes that most of the time no one but you seemed to catch, his under the breath teasing. You would chuckle every time you caught one and he would look at you with a little smirk, he liked having someone around who finally understood all of his humor. He began to look at you after every joke and whisper ones under his breath just to you, making you laugh in serious settings as he pretends to scold you for making a scene.

You became really close friends pretty quick. Sure he was your superior but you’re the same age so sometimes it was hard to see him as such. You found him easy to be around and he made you feel comfortable so you never overthought what you said or did with him. Sure you were easy going with everyone but you went out of your way to make sure he specifically knew you liked his hat, or his cooking, or that you thought he was brave and strong on certain missions. You were always honest, which he liked from the beginning. He appreciated it. (While the others found it strange when they witnessed your banters.)

One day when it was just you guys cooking together and joking around, you saw him truly smile, unabashedly, for the first time. “God Hinawa, your smile is dazzling” you said and his knife slipped, twisting in his hand when he went to cut his potato, the knife just cutting a weird chunk out of it. He felt his cheeks blush for the first time in what felt like forever, he’s worked so hard to devote himself to the world and accepted his place as a cog in the machine, but you bring his feelings to the surface without even trying. Every time you would compliment him, it would make him flustered for a good 15 seconds before he could say ‘thank you’ or something nice back to you. After a few months you found yourselves that much closer, found it that much easier for you both to address lighter feelings, feelings that you both haven’t had in a long time. Without realizing it you both changed your devotions from being about duty to being about each other.

It became a ritual between you both that whenever one would cook the other would assist, leading to you swapping stories and joking around the entire time. Cooking together became a sort of reset with each other, using it as a special few hours where nothing else mattered but the food and each other.

One night you had asked him once to tell you a story about his life before Company 8 and he surprised you both by bringing up his friend who turned infernal in front of his eyes. Telling you stories of when they would do crazy things, when they would goof off on weekends and hang out at the bar.

He didn't realize he had tears running down his face until your hands were on his shoulders, turning him to face you so you could cup his cheeks and wipe away his tears before pulling him down into your arms. “Thank you, for trusting me” you whisper as he cries on your shoulder in the middle of the kitchen.

When you felt him relax and his breathing even out, he stood up to his full height and looked at you with semi embarrassed eyes. You reach up and brush away any tears that are left and then smile softly “do you want to hear about my sister? She was my best friend my whole life.” he smiles weakly at you “yes, please tell me” you nod and as you go back to cutting up vegetables. beginning to recount the time she tried to get the grocery boy to date you, how she was always the life of your family, crazy energy and who never thought about anything until after she said it.

“Fearless. She was always so fearless. I think God gave her it all, and gave me all the common sense” you chuckle and then clear your throat “when I uh lost her, she was making us lunch, I was watching her son in the living room and before I knew it, it was all over. Brain aneurysm,” you let out a sad laugh “Not even fire”

you feel your throat constrict and you try to clear it again, you reach up and brush away your tears, turning away from him as he takes the cut up vegetables and potatoes to the pot. You sniff a few times, trying to contain it but failing. He touches your arm lightly and you turn to him, your eyes on the floor “sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. Here i am trying to comfort you but this isn't really comforting is it'' you chuckle awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable about needing to be comforted when he was having a hard time. you just wanted to share something hard from your past, so he didn't feel so vulnerable but you ended up putting yourself in a same position. you try to clear your throat again but what comes out is a strangled sob.

He tilts your face up to look into his eyes “for what it’s worth, you are one of the most fearless people I know” he brushes away your tears and smiles softly down at you, before hugging you to his chest, returning the comfort you both desperately need.

Being alone with him was nice, but rare, not happening again for a few more days until one day after work when you guys were the only ones not occupied. You decided to just spend the time together in the lounge room, not on purpose, he just found you and decided to stay. Sitting side by side on the couch, you were reading a book and he was drawing something in a small notebook.

You look up and over at him, smiling at his look of concentration and thinking about the kitchen moment, recounting all the feelings that have been brought up since meeting him, how easy it has been recently to realize what you want. When you spoke you kept your voice so quiet it barely reached his ears in the quiet room.

“Ya know, I once thought that it was easier to devote myself to my duty and to the world. Easier because when someone you love turns infernal or dies it won’t hurt too bad. I never would allow myself to truly love, so i would have nothing to lose. but i think… I think that love is something that makes you learn how to live each moment like it could be your last. At any moment something could happen and someone could be gone, I could be gone. To be alone is to not get hurt, to not feel exhausted by every emotion. But knowing the pain could happen, I realize that it makes me want to truly cherish my life, truly live my life like I have meaning, because to our city and to our team we mean everything. that’s my world, that is what matters. There are some things that i will never understand, but if I could have one scrap of truly loving someone, it would be worth all the pain of the uncertainty. It’s a crazy rush to feel like a person who matters to others. And.. I know it could hurt so much, but it’s comforting to know that I’m not alone, that I have others who feel the same, the feeling of being safe and to feel like I truly matter, of being so sure about something, or someone, the trust that someone can love 100% of me...I think I would give everything for that. The kind of belonging you can only have with family or with being in love with someone. Being in this company made me realize it. Everyone here is my family. That is something that no one could ever take or burn away”

After your first sentence he had looked at your face, his heart racing at the feelings your words have invoked in him. Like you were saying something so easily that he has been afraid of for so long. Your voice was so confident he was shocked to see tears well up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks as you closed your book, setting it in your lap as you stared at the notebook in his hands while you spoke. You felt your hands start to shake, like you were saying something extremely important, like an epiphany you were sharing with him because he happened to be here with you, caught in the same moment.

Your eyes are caught by a flash of lightning outside of the window and you reach up wiping away your tears. “Sorry” you laugh “didn’t mean to go so hard there. Just forget it if it’s too weird.” He hums softly, a comforting low sound that gave you goosebumps “no, i'm glad you are comfortable to talk to me about anything you want. I.. I think i understand what you mean” you can tell he was struggling and you didn't push him, you just scooted closer to him on the couch, until you were pressed into his side so you could find some comfort in being close to someone.

You tried to read your book again, as he resumed his drawing, but it was getting late and you had a long day, your eyes burned with the exhaustion hitting your body. neither of you moved, not wanting to be alone tonight. So you stayed there, on the couch in the lounge room, reading and drawing together. A storm was raging outside, every once in a while loud thunder would make you flinch. You felt your eyes close and you couldn’t resist it any longer, your book going slack on your things as your head fell over onto his shoulder. Humming in your sleep at how comfortable his shoulder was.

You were awoken by the feeling of his fingers brushing your hair out of your face. You sigh and smile before opening your eyes halfway “what time is it?”you whisper “just after midnight” he responds, his cheeks a little pink. “Sorry i didn’t mean to fall asleep. I guess i should go to bed huh?” you laugh and smile up at him, your cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

He cups your cheek softly and kisses your forehead, smiling when your cheeks flushed. He couldn’t resist, it felt so natural. You were so much more than just friends, but you weren’t ready to admit what you were feeling, and neither was he. “Yes, we should get to bed” he stands first and offers you his hand, which you gladly accept.

You reach his room first “thank you for listening to me tonight” you say and he nods “always, y/n” he says before giving your hand a squeeze and letting go.

You were almost asleep, almost feeling the sweet relief of unconsciousness, when your heart started racing, your brain connecting all the dots, that you felt this way because of Hinawa.

You spent the rest of your night convincing yourself to sleep.

You like Hinawa. So what? You’re not even sure if what you’re feeling really are romantic feelings for him! You’ve never been in love before so you don’t know. You need more proof. That’s what eventually led you to sleeping, relaxing in the fact that you needed more proof to really know. And no it’s not against the rules because nothing is even going on.

#hinawa fanfiction #hinawa imagines #hinawa x y/n #hinawa x you #hinawa takehisa x reader #fire force hinawa #hinawa x reader #hinawa takehisa x you #fire force fanfiction #hinawa fluff

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abysstwins · 4 years ago

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sebastian michaelis x reader songfic (epiphany)

[ inspired by the cover song epiphany by the piano guys - i encourage you to listen to it while you read ! ]

this had been plaguing you for days now, you realized as you laid in the neatly made bed, your (e/c) eyes gazing out the window a few feet from where you lay. the trees swayed ever-so softly in the breeze, a few leaves being carried off by the soft wind. the calmness of the manor almost calmed your nerves

it felt weird, you had to admit that much. when you first woke up here, things seemed so exciting, as if you were finally living out your fangirl dreams. that’s what every anime fan dreams of, right? waking up in their favorite anime, falling in love with their favorite anime character... but truly being here had begun to lose it’s charm. sure, you had some excitement seeing as you’d seemed to appear a good bit before the beginning of the first season, though that didn’t cause your excitement to falter. it was only after season one had begun that you began to grow weary. you already knew what was going to happen, how it would happen and when it would happen. rewatching black butler multiple times had seemingly ruined the genuine experience for you.

a familiar sinking feeling began to settle in your stomach. you weren’t surprised; it was made clear a long time ago that this serenity had never been your cup of tea. you thrived being kept on your toes, and laying in your bed at the phantomhive manor wasn’t doing a damn thing for you. so with all of your strength, you hoisted yourself up and out of bed before getting dressed in a simple beige dress accompanied by some white heels. you busied yourself with pulling your hair into a low, messy bun as you exited your room. maybe walking around for a bit might help.

as you passed ciel’s study, your attention was caught by some chatter.

“no, sebastian, i am not going to have you as my dance instructor.” ciel’s voice pierced the silence.

“but, my lord, it’s far too short-notice to request one of your usual teachers. the ball is tomorrow night,” sebastian reasoned, his voice causing a small smile to fall onto your lips.

“there isn’t even any music,” ciel huffed. suddenly filled with energy, you knocked on the already open door.

“i can help with that,” you giggled.

“ah, (Y/N), good afternoon,” sebastian said, physically relaxing as his eyes caught yours.

“good afternoon, lady (Y/N). how exactly would you like to be of assistance?” ciel inquired, obviously hoping to get out of going to another ball.

you slyly pull your phone from one of your dress’s side pockets. “i can play instrumental music on my phone and sebastian can lead you through the dance.”

“why don’t you and sebastian demonstrate?” ciel asked, his face as stoic as ever, though there was a playful glint in his cerulean blue eye. you glanced at sebastian as he let out a soft chuckle before extending his gloved hand to you. opening your phone and pressing play on your music app, you then took his hand as the calming sound of one of your favorite instrumental songs filled the air.

sebastian pulled you close to him, his warm and inviting smell calming your aching nerves as he held you. you gently placed your hand on his shoulder while the other slipped into his smoothly, as if two puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place once more. having been so lost in your own memories of your home and everything that you’d felt as though you’d left behind, you’d almost forgotten just how right it felt to be in sebastian’s arms.

moving as fluidly as the ocean, and each step as soft as a falling feather, sebastian led the dance, your elegance almost matching his. the dance lasted for a few more minutes before the song faded out, leaving you both in a comfortable silence.

ciel cleared his throat in a polite manner, glancing away from the two of you.

“right then,” he said in his usual business tone. “thank you for demonstrating, sebastian, (Y/N).”

“of course,” you responded softly as you both stepped away from one another.

“there is no need to thank me, my lord.” sebastian smiled at you before returning his eyes to ciel.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the day had went by as quickly as most days do in the phantomhive manor - you helped the servants around as you could, enjoying chatting with bardroy as you helped him make dinner. though, sebastian didn’t seem to be all that happy with how close you had seemingly become with the chef, which is something he brought up after ciel had been put to bed.

“may i come in?” sebastian asked after knocking on your bedroom door.

“yeah, of course, come in,” you replied, sitting up on your bed.

“what’s up?” you asked as sebastian shut the door behind him. a slow moment of silence followed your question as he kept his back turned to you.

“do you like it here?” sebastian inquired, a small hint of fear evident in his voice.

“of course i do,” you replied softly as you stood up. “sebastian, what’s wrong?”

“you’ve seemed so distant recently. i assumed i may have done something - or not done something - that caused you to begin to become so shut off. i saw how animatedly you were conversing with bardroy and i became... afraid.”

“afraid of what?” you asked as you now stood beside the tall butler.

“afraid that you have begun to no longer care for me as i care for you...”

“sebastian...” you breathed out before gently taking his hand, causing him to look you in the eyes. “i love it here, more than anything. i’ve never felt so safe somewhere in my life. you make me feel so safe. i love you more than anything in this world or the next. i’m so sorry for being so distant, it’s just easy to feel guilty for leaving everyone behind...” another moment of silence followed before sebastian spoke up once more.

“if you... wish to return home, i will not be the one to stop you.”

“sebastian... i don’t want to ever leave here without you, okay? you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you teased the demon, causing a small smile to show on his lips.

“will you dance with me?” you blurted out. sebastian chuckled before taking your hand in his.

“nothing would make me happier.”

pulling out your phone, you once again played the same song you’d both danced to only hours before. this time, the dance was much more intimate than formal, however. sebastian loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his broad chest as you draped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you both danced elegantly across the floor of your bedroom.

as the moonlight spilled into the room in whispers, you couldn’t help but look up at sebastian, his maroon eyes fixated lovingly on your form. having been caught staring, the male could only smile before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. you sighed in content before resuming your position, your eyes closing as he held you. the song had long faded out before sebastian picked you up, carrying you to your bed and pulling you close to him once more under the inviting warmth of the covers.

a realization hit you as you began drifting off to sleep in the arms of your love, a realization that was much overdue. you may miss your friends back home, and even the life you’d grown so accustomed to... but nothing in that world could have ever felt as right as being wrapped in sebastian’s arms.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

okay hi ,, i promise i don’t write often ........ i’ve been feeling v down in the dumps emotionally and man oh man alive i needed to write something comforting ..... nyways the cover song epiphany by the piano guys makes me think of this kind of scenario SO MUCH gods i just wanna be held by sebby okay <//3

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themangolorian · 5 years ago

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Both Hunter and Prey (Pt. 5)

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: A game of cat and mouse between you and the Mandalorian.

A/N: Inspired by this post. Part 5 of 7 (extended now). Hope this hasn’t been done. Wanted some fluff/some smut between Mandalorian and someone who won’t leave him alone and who he can’t seem to leave alone.

Warnings: Smut, language, sex (explicit).

You awoke feeling weak and shaky. Your eyes were sore and red rimmed. You untangled your limbs and searched for the button on the inner panel that would let you out. You needed fresh air and you needed to stretch your legs. The door swooshed down, loud in the dead of the quiet in the ship.

Outside, night had fallen and only dim lights on the surrounding panels in the hull were lit. You outstretched your legs painfully, some of your limbs had gone numb. Carefully you lowered yourself out of the bunk but when you straightened, one gloved hand was waiting to take yours.

You gazed up at his dark visor with red eyes you wish he’d never seen this way. It wasn’t vanity; you just didn’t need anyone seeing your vulnerabilities. But...right now...if you had to choose - better that it be him.

You took his hand and straightened up, stretching your weak limbs. He caught you when you faltered, but he didn’t smother you. Most importantly, he didn’t speak. He was getting better and better at reading what you did and didn’t need.

Later, you both sat on the ramp overlooking the dark, windy desert. His cloak was once again draped over your shoulders to protect you from the cold of the desert.

You gazed blankly up at the bright stars, imagining one of them to be one of the planets you’d been on with your mother. Maybe Gavin-4. The forest had been so sweet when you’d walked through it hand-in-hand with her. You’d thought it all a game then; she’d protected you from the worst of everything. Until she couldn’t.

You looked sideways at the Mandalorian. He didn’t stir. You could never see where he was looking but sometimes you liked to think he was looking at you from behind the helmet, even when you couldn’t tell. These thoughts were dangerous, you knew. But so much had changed in so little time, you didn’t know what or how to think anymore.

Suddenly he turned his helmet to look directly at you as if reading your thoughts.

You didn’t turn away. You knew you still looked a mess, but you weren’t sure you cared.

“It was a list of officials in the Empire,” you said, your voice raw. You fought for control of your emotions. If you broke again, if you broke in front of him, you wouldn’t be able to gather yourself together again. “Top secret information.” He tilted his helmet to indicate he was listening; he always knew the right thing to say or do. It gave you confidence. “It’s what she was working on when she- It’s why she-”

A hand found yours in the darkness and held tightly. You took a shaky breath.

“A lot of them...maybe all of them got away with what they did. No one could prove anything. This disc...has all the proof needed to bring them down.”

He squeezed your hand.

You looked away from his blank helmet finally. “I’ve been sitting on this information for years, Mandalorian...I didn’t know...”

He stirred, clearly wanting to contradict you, but how could you when these were facts?

You shook your head before he could speak. “I could have…”

“But you didn’t.”

Not the response you were expecting, but he drew you close to him to take the sting from his words.

“It doesn’t matter. You know now. And now…” He paused, as if mulling over his words, “you can do something about it.”

You gazed up at his visor somewhat in awe. Then you did something you never would have done but for your emotionally vulnerable state and leaned in to embrace him. A true embrace. Your arms went around his broad chest, never mind the impossibly rigid armor. He hesitated at first, from surprise maybe. Then his arms were going around you too.

You reveled in his touch as much as you cursed yourself for succumbing to your weakness for this armored bounty hunter. He was unraveling you in all the worst ways and, worst of all, you didn’t care. At least not right now.

You turned and shifted over until you were nearly straddling his lap, closing the gap between the two of you to nearly nothing. His arms around you tightened pulling you into him. You tilted your head to look directly into his visor; though you could see no part of him, you needed to know you were looking right at him. Instinct took over and your lips found their way to his helmet. His arms trailed up your back to tangle in your hair.

You trailed kisses down the cool metal until you reached the gap between his shoulder and helmet. Then you were placing feather soft kisses to the warm fabric there, just needing to keep the space between him and you to a minimum. Meanwhile, you could feel the Mandalorian’s strong hands rubbing long sensual lines up and down your body, both pulling you further into him and soothing you at the same time.

You could feel him hardening beneath you and moaned as you kissed his chest plate and grinded your hips down into him. You heard the sharp intake of breath from beneath his helmet as his hands came up to your mid-back to hold you in place. You could hear his breathing both quicken and grow shorter as your kisses made their way down his armor plate.

Suddenly in one swift, fluid movement, he was anchoring you securely in his arms and surging to his feet, your knees hooked over his arms. You gasped at the sudden change. He froze.

“Are you alright?” Soft. So soft. He was worried about your back, but you were fully healed now.

You tightened your hold around him and buried your face in his neck, nipping at the fabric over his collarbone in answer. With your ear up to his helmet, you heard his hiss in response clearly. Carrying you this way, he turned and swept into the ship, more clear-headed this time as he closed the ramp behind you using his vambrace. Meanwhile you were nipping along his neck, trying to catch skin from beneath the heavy fabric he wore.

Unlike last time, when he had been pushing you roughly up against his cold ship with his armored body, he leaned over the cot and laid you down gently, at the same time that he removed the clasps keeping his beskar clamped to him. Your fingers were shaking with a nervousness you hadn’t felt before as you tried to help him. You weren’t nervous about the physical act of what you were doing. You were nervous about the tenderness with which the Mandalorian was handling you, tenderness you couldn’t help but return in kind. What with nearly dying and the epiphany of your mother, you couldn’t find it in you to treat him any other way. Not now.

Finally, the last piece of beskar fell to the floor with a clank and you were pulling the Mandalorian by the scruff of his tunic to fall over you. Your mouth found the gap between his shoulder and chin and you sank your lips softly there, searching for the warmth of his skin. With his figure shifting over you, the fabric finally gave and your lips found the smooth heat of his neck. You pressed a kiss to the spot, eliciting a guttural moan from him as he moved sensuously against you.

His hands moved over your body with urgency, his fingers squeezing your breasts before sliding down to lightly brush over your core. Your breath was growing short and your head was getting light. You needed more. More than he’d ever given you before, more than you’d yet given him.

You cried out when his fingers pressed down over your center, short circles of bursting pleasure. It was too much; it was not enough. You needed him inside you, needed to feel more. Your hands went to your own pants, trying to push them off with his weight still on top of you. He paused when he realized what you were doing, then helped you slide them down and off of you. Then you were both fumbling at his belt and the clasp of his pants.

You gasped when you felt him, long, thick and smooth, against your inner thigh. Your fist bunched the fabric of his tunic, trying to keep control as you waited impatiently. But the Mandalorian was in no rush. He brushed your hand aside gently, the hand that had been reaching down to put him inside of you. Then you felt his cool, calloused fingers on your clit and your back arched of its own accord as you saw bright flashes behind your eyelids.

He truly was unraveling you. His fingers languished on your clit before sinking down into your wet warmth. You cried out and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He froze and groaned when you sank your teeth into the exposed skin of his neck. But then his fingers started a delicious, delirious rhythm. You were coming undone. But this was not how you wanted to-

“Wait.” You begged, pushing at his wrist between him and your mound. He pumped once, twice more then took his fingers out with a slick sound. You peeked down to see him rubbing your wetness onto the tip of his cock and your eyes rolled back in your head. Then he was shifting his weight fully over you again, and you felt the hard, blunt tip of him nudging at your entrance. You wrapped your legs around his middle and let out a hoarse cry as he sunk into you. Finally, finally, finally.

The sound you let out as he buried his length fully within you surprised even you. It was raw and wanting and it echoed in the small space but you couldn’t find it in you to care. He was so big, so filling. You’d never felt so...complete. Your hands surged upwards to wrap around his neck, jostling his helmet. But you didn’t care.

He let out a sharp rasp when you lifted your hips so you could wrap your legs more tightly around him. Then he was moving, pulling back out of you, eliciting a desperate cry from your lips. His elbows, resting on the sleep pad on either side of your head, shifted over so that you were nestled tightly between his arms. He pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in more urgently than before. Your legs around him clenched tighter.

He began a steady, fast rhythm. The sounds your bodies were making...the slap of skin on skin every time he plunged into you...the soft wet noises...the grunts coming from beneath the helmet...were making you feverish.

“Please,” you begged, but you didn’t know what it was you were asking him for.

Still he seemed to know...one arm flew back and knocked your legs away and then he was sitting up, still deep inside of you, and folding your legs back toward your head. This new position allowed him to sink even deeper and your resulting cry was primal. He began to move faster over you until the entire sleep cot was vibrating with your movements. His cock began to hit a spot deep inside of you that left you breathless. The moans and gasps from beneath the helmet reverberated within you. You threw your head back roughly against the pillow, beginning to see stars burst behind your eyelids.

Though his rhythm did not slow, one hand found its way roughly under your head, holding you still, cushioning your neck even as he continued to ram into you. You couldn’t control your own body which began surging upwards to meet his. You felt the waves forming in your core, growing exponentially as he plunged into you over and over. You let out a short, terse scream and buried your head as far into his neck as you could.

Then-

He shifted over you again so that he was entering at a blisteringly sweet angle...his cock thrust against your walls in just the right spot and the waves within you broke. You found yourself losing control of your limbs, going completely taut but still trembling uncontrollably. You cried loudly out into the skin of his neck, biting down in your pleasure.

He let out a sharp groan as your walls clenched and pulsed around him. His arms tightened around you as he gave one last hoarse grunt before he stilled. You could feel his cock twitching within your walls, could feel his warm, wet seed fill you.

Still trembling, you tightened your grip around him. He began to fall toward you but stopped himself with his arms.

“I’ll hurt you.” His voice was hoarse, nearly gone, thinking his full weight on top of you would harm you.

You yanked at him again until he was laying flush against you. You let out a content sigh and his hands wound their way around your back, pulling you further into his neck. Never...never had you felt this...you could not even think of a word for it. Something wet trailed down your face, and you startled, thinking something had fallen from the ceiling.

“Are you-” The Mandalorian pulled far back enough to lift his head but stopped talking when he saw your face. You realized at the same moment as him that the wetness was coming from your eyes. He said nothing but wiped the tears dry and pulled your head back into the crook of his neck and settled down over you again.

More tears came but you only held him to you tighter, as if you could join your bodies in a way that didn’t involve sex. This feeling building within you was going to be the death of you. You fell asleep, a heavy pressure building in your chest that had nothing to do with the Mandalorian’s weight on top of you.

You awoke just before dawn, cradled between the Mandalorian’s arms, at his side now. Your head was resting on his chest just below his helmet, from below which you could hear his soft snoring. Bleary eyed, you stirred, lifting your head from his chest to stare at his visor, more blank now that he wasn’t awake to give any indication as to his thoughts.

This felt wrong. Too good. Too perfect. You were...happy. You hated it. If only because you knew you could lose that feeling at any second; the universe seemed meant to punish you. You couldn’t remain there a moment longer.

You slid out of the Mandalorian’s grip. He stirred but you didn’t think he’d woken up. You let the blanket fall over him before opening the ramp and slipping out into the cold dawning morning.

The ramp closing behind you, you watched as the ugnaught approached his home from the direction of the blurgs’ enclosure, the empty bucket in his hands telling you that he’d been feeding them. He nodded your way; you only stared back, but you took the nod as welcome and followed him through the doorway and into his home.

You didn't know why but you knew there were things that he knew. Maybe about you.

You spotted the droid, powered down in the corner of the hut when you entered.

“Please,” the ugnaught gestured to a chair at his table, a cup of Tarine tea awaiting you, as if he’d known you would seek him out.

You said nothing but sat down and took the cup between your palms for warmth. He sat across from you with his own cup of Tarine.

You broke the silence first; the ugnaught was too knowing by half, but there was something comforting about that. The Mandalorian trusted him. That was enough for you. You briefly explained the contents of the disc without going into detail about you or your mother.

Nothing seemed to surprise the ugnaught. “You already knew,” you murmured, suspicious, your hands itching for the blaster that you’d left on the ship.

He finally met your gaze head on; his own was chiding and you lowered your eyes. “No,” he rasped, “ but I’d surmised much.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Like what?” You raised the cup to your lips and took a short draw.

“Who your mother is. Who you are.”

You were equally surprised and not. From what you’d garnered so far, the ugnaught had been forced into servitude by the Empire at its height. Depending on his position there, he would have been privy to certain knowledge. Those in charge tended to forget about and undermine those in service to them, especially if they didn’t consider them their equals.

“Did you know her?” The words were tight in your mouth, strung high.

“No.” The blunt one-worded response stung, and you struggled not to show it. “I knew of her. The work she accomplished.”

You swallowed, the gesture difficult. “I didn’t know…” You palmed the disc hanging safely around your neck again.

“Don’t you wonder why your mother left the information to you? Do you think she didn’t know you’d carry on her legacy?”

The words hurt because even if your mother had thought you were the right person to finish what she’d started, you hadn’t lived up to it. “But...I’ve done nothing...I’m nobody.”

The ugnaught chuckled, surprising you. “In the grand scheme of things, little one, we are all nobody. And we all matter.”

You blinked at the contradiction.

He smiled knowingly. “Your mother died to retrieve the information you now hold in your palm, yet to the universe at large, who is she? Nobody.” You flinched, but he wasn’t done. “Yet, she made you and she raised you. The thievery you think so little of, that makes you think so little of yourself…what has it accomplished?”

You felt ashamed now. Truly. What? Petty thievery meant to harm the Imperials one by one, yet you’d accomplished nothing.

But the ugnaught continued, not giving you a chance to respond, though you didn’t know what to say. “The rotoblade you took from Corporal Santtion. He spent more time searching for you out of a need to nurse his ego than it warranted when he could have easily replaced the blade. Time he could have spent imprisoning and torturing more. Surely at least a handful of innocents escaped his wrath thanks to you.”

You blinked dazedly again. How did he know any of this? How could he know?

He tapped the subspace transceiver beside him. “I may not look like much, nor my surroundings. But I have as much interest as you and the Mandalorian in the downfall of the Imperials.”

You smiled lightly, feeling lost yet somehow found all at the same time.

He listed more things you had taken, small as they were, along with the disruption they had caused to the Imperials and a list of what those thefts had prevented.

Your throat felt tight. “You can’t know it’s all true. That I truly accomplished all that…from…petty theft.”

It blew your mind...that others, those on the same side of the war, knew who you were and what you did. That you hadn’t truly been alone all this time. That your actions, as petty as they’d seemed when done, had actually mattered.

The ugnaught reached over and tapped your head lightly. “You haven’t been listening, little one. One person’s actions, small as they may seem, can result in a far reaching chain of events unforeseen but meaningful. You haven’t brought down the Imperials by your actions alone, but you have impeded them…and now…you hold in your hand the results of your mother’s sacrifice. Greater power than some of those whom the Imperials consider their greatest enemies.”

He tapped the knuckles under which was clenched your mother’s necklace. “Because of your mother, nobody, and because of you, nobody, the Imperials will suffer greatly.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears. This ugnaught annoyed you with his ability to tear right through your hard facade and down to your heart. “How do I do that?” You asked sarcastically, willing your emotions away.

The ugnaught smiled warmly, too knowingly, he saw right through your attitude. “You expose the list. You and your Mandalorian take them down one by one.” Your Mandalorian?

“Why would he help me?” Confusion colored your tone. Kuill was wrong. The Mandalorian had greater things at stake. A child to worry about. You were the last thing he had on his mind. Unless he was thinking with his dick.

The Ugnaught stared at you now as if you were stupid and you squirmed under his gaze. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke. “If you refuse to see the real reason for his willingness to help you…” you were going to ignore that and you were going to ignore that hard. “The more Imperials the two of you take down, the safer that Child will be. Your list contains very high ranking members, all likely to have attaining the child high on their list of goals. You must prevent that too.”

You groaned in annoyance. There were so many layers to all of this. And you’d never asked for any of it. Your goal had been to disrupt the Imperials’ lives for the worse. But you’d never been arrogant enough to presume you had the power to truly make a difference, to change things. And more recently, you’d just been trying to get into the Mandalorian’s pants.

“You have everything and everyone you need to accomplish what your mother started. The task itself is up to you. I have spoken.” The Ugnaught said with finality just as a heavy set of footsteps sounded from the doorway alerting you to the Mandalorian’s presence.

It was time to finally go to Lothal, except this time, the ugnaught and the droid would be accompanying you. The question of your next move had never been broached and you had quite intentionally avoided the issue, though your initial thought had been to steal the first ship you saw on Lothal and get to a place of peace alone so you could begin thinking straight again. Later, as you helped prepare to leave, for lack of something better to do, you realized the Mandalorian had heard more than he’d let on that morning.

“What you and Kuill were talking about earlier…”

You grunted as you tried to fit a particular difficult part of the child’s new floating bassinet into the frame as per Kuill’s instructions. “Didn’t realize eavesdropping was a part of the Mandalorian creed.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

He made a noise under the helmet you were 75% sure was a chuckle, 25% sure was a cough. He ignored that otherwise though. “What Kuill said...he was right.”

Frustrated, you tried using your fist against the part that was refusing to cooperate in order to attach it to the frame, but it was no use. Then his hand was stopping yours, taking the part and with one swift, strong movement, fitting it into the frame precisely.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Kriffing show off.” But then he was taking your shoulders in his hands and turning you to face his dumb, blank helmet.

“You’re someone whether you take down even one Imperial or not.”

You jerked your chin out of his palm and swooped under his arm to escape behind him.

“Shows what you know, Mandalorian,” you threw over your shoulder at him with a cheeky grin as you left the hut. “I’m going to take down the whole damn Empire.”

Hours later, you were in hyperspace. You’d watched from the sleep cot as the Mandalorian put the child to sleep, watched him watching the baby fall into a deep, peaceful slumber. Kuill and IG manned the cockpit. Something told you they knew better than to leave the cockpit.

The Mandalorian turned and you were sure your face said everything that your voice didn’t need to. This time the sex was slow, languishing, torturous. He took his time, slow long strokes that undid you one by one. With the ship now inhabited, you both had to keep it down, but neither of you could stop the way your breaths came out ragged and fast.

He began pulling out all the way, leaving you gasping into the palm of his glove. You would arch your back, lifting your hips, to get him to enter you again. But he would push your hips down roughly before thrusting into you again. He did this so many times...your orgasm was building but you couldn’t seem to reach it and your body was burning. You fought back sobs of pleasure when finally, gasping, he sunk into you again and couldn’t seem to pull back out again. He fucked you with short quick thrusts that brought you both to quick orgasms. You panted your orgasm loudly into his neck again.

Both sweaty and weak, you held each other, and for once, you could think of no quick, sarcastic words to battle the feelings threatening to envelope you again. So you stayed quiet and let him hold you.

Later, you sat on the floor in front of the sleep cot between his knees. He was caressing your head, running ungloved fingers absently over the planes of your face, neck and chest. You had never felt anything so exquisite.

But he was distracted, bothered. “Why don’t you ever ask me my name?”

You leaned your head back in his lap and furrowed your brow up at him, and his hands slowed to a stop at your temple. You stared up at his visor, searching. He was expressive, even with the helmet on. His body language was telling, especially to you after the time you’d spent together.

His gloved fingers moved up to trace your brows. “Or ask to see under my helmet?”

You closed your eyes as his fingers traced the lines of your face and thought about your answer, though you knew already what it was.

“For the same reason you never asked me my name?” It was a question, but you knew he understood. “Or that you never asked my story?”

His fingers paused on your forehead where he’d been drawing soothing lines along it. “No,” he stated. “That’s not it.”

Your forehead wrinkled again under the touch of his fingers as you opened one eye to look curiously up at him.

“Why didn’t you ever ask me my name? Or my story?” A question for an answer. You knew he expected nothing less from you.

“At first,” his tone was stunted, faltering. “I didn’t think there was much to know,” he admitted, and you could tell he was ashamed, though it didn’t bother you, so you reached a hand up to clasp and squeeze his fingers reassuringly. He squeezed back. “But,” here he paused again, and his finger went to your lips, tracing them softly. “Then I did start asking.” He prompted your memory. He wasn’t wrong.

You smiled against his finger. “Only once I was drugged, you piece of bantha fodder.” The memory pained you now only a little. He’d gotten so much out of you then, all of it voluntary and only some of it at the prompt of his questions.

He sighed deeply, and intuitively you realized you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to. “I shouldn’t have-” He started.

You shifted between his legs so you were half-turned. “I don’t regret it, Mandalorian.” The words were sharp but heartfelt.

He gazed at you through the visor and brushed his fingers absently along your spine. He said a word so softly in his helmet that you couldn’t tell what it was.

“What?”

“Din.” He breathed. It took you a long moment to process what that meant.

Your heart started beating, too fast for you to handle. You let go of his hand slowly and sat back on your heels, away from him.

He sighed but didn’t try to touch you.

“You shouldn’t be telling me that,” you whispered. “It’s sacred.”

“I know it is.” The Mandalorian responded, as if irritated you were quoting Mandalorian creed at him. He ran a knuckle along your chin then pulled away.

“You don’t ask because you’re scared.” He answered his own question from earlier, angering you immediately. Now you pushed backwards so you were sitting on the floor a few feet from him. “Of opening up to someone. Of losing someone.”

“Don’t tell me about myself as if you know.” You said through clenched teeth.

He froze in place, watching you mutely.

“That’s rich coming from you. You’re like a wall. You hate droids so much but you function like one.” You said the nastiest things you could think to say because his words were sinking beneath the armor you usually kept up to protect yourself.

He flinched but didn’t move towards you. “That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice had gone flat. He was angry with you now, but only just. The worst part was - he was right: you did know it. Long before you’d even realized you felt anything for the Mandalorian beyond lust, he had already been protecting you, treating you tenderly and you hadn’t even deserved it then. You didn’t deserve it now either. You saw the way he interacted with other people and creatures. His armor was deceiving; he made more friends in one interaction with strangers than you had in your entire life.

“I didn’t ask for your name,” you finally huffed, crossing your arms and sitting back so your back was against the cold ship. You had nothing better to say in retaliation and you both knew it.

“But it’s mine to tell you.” He said in a tone of finality. You glared at him.

He stood finally and stalked past you to the ladder. “And I don’t want you to do anything else stupid like take your helmet off either,” you called after him.

He grunted in recognition of your words. You knew he wouldn’t be joining you anytime soon, and you certainly wouldn’t be joining him in the cockpit either.

A soft coo startled you out of your thoughts. The child must have woken at some point during your quiet argument. He was staring at you curiously from his perch in the pod; you hadn’t even heard the bunk door slide open. You turned your head, evading his stare, adamant not to further foster any more personal connections you didn’t need.

You heard the soft bump anyway and hmphed quietly, knowing the child had dropped to the floor. You heard the small pitter patter of his steps as he approached you and now you pretended to sleep. But he knew better and so did you.

When he reached out to grasp your arms, he only succeeded in tickling your side. You tried to hold your breath but ended up letting out a soft giggle. You swatted his tiny hands away from your side gently as you finally turned to face him. His ears perked up and he cooed louder, reaching out to you again, his eyes shining brightly with hope.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said, as you reached out to scoop him up and rest him in your lap. “But I don’t like you. And I don’t want to know your name either.” The child cooed happily, and it was your turn to sigh. You leaned back against the ship to rest your eyes finally. “If it’s between you and him, I’d rather spend time with you anyway,” you muttered. Absently, without realizing it, as you began to doze off, your fingers slowly caressed the child’s ear.

When you awoke, you were splayed out in the cot, covered fully by the one blanket on board. The child was laid out beside your waist on top of the blanket. That meant the Mandalorian had found you both and relocated you. You blinked your eyes blearily and looked around.

He was sitting on a stool across the way, cleaning his blaster.

You sat up very slowly, careful not to jostle the child. Though he must have noted your movement, the Mandalorian did not turn in your direction nor acknowledge you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Your voice was raspy with sleep. Now he paused his movement around the blaster.

“You don’t have to apologize.” His modulated voice was soft. So soft. What he had to understand was that you didn’t deserve his tenderness. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

You shook your head. “I just-” You stopped yourself unsure of what you even meant to say. “I need time.” You finished hoarsely.

He looked finally your way, putting the blaster down. As you swept your legs softly from under the blanket, he took the few steps that separated you from him. You rested your head against his middle, and his hands came up to cradle your head and hold you against him softly.

“You won’t lose me.” He said so quietly you almost weren’t sure that’s what he’d said. But you didn’t want to hear it again. Your mother had said the exact same thing. And you didn’t feel like crying. So, instead, you flexed your fingers against him, and he gave a sharp intake of breath, tightening his hold in your hair.

At the same time, you used your mouth to nip softly at the fabric covering his groin. He hissed, bucking his hips once. Then he was pulling you up, careful not to jostle the sleep cot. He put a finger to your lips meant to silence you, but you held it there and took the digit in your mouth while staring at the visor, hoping his eyes were on yours as you sucked his glove.

“Fuck,” you heard whispered, restrained, from beneath the helmet. He pulled you behind him, and you wondered where you could possibly be going considering the cockpit was occupied.

Your eyes widened in surprise when the Mandalorian backed himself up into the bunk, bending his legs to fit. Your surprise did not faze him. He pulled you in after him, shutting the bunk door just as your legs passed through. You were cramped in the small space against him, straddling him. You could feel his erection growing against your waist.

He didn’t wait for you to guess what he wanted. He reached down and undid your pants, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband. You had to lift your hips so he could reach your cunt. You gasped when his fingers found your clit and deftly began rubbing tantalizing circles. Then he was pinching your clit softly between his fingers and you gasped louder now, the top of your head hitting the ceiling of the bunk. But he didn’t stop and you found yourself unable to catch your breath. You caught his hand and yanked it out of your pants.

As you pushed your pants down to your ankles, a task made difficult by your position above him, he was unclasping his own. Your lips formed an o of surprise when he took himself in hand and pumped his fist up and down his cock.

“Fuck,” you breathed. You’d never felt so turned on with so little foreplay. You knocked his hand aside, spit into your hand and spread the spit over his tip.

His turn to groan, his hips reflexively bucking upwards. Then he was gripping your waist tightly, moving you toward him. You had to fold your body awkwardly over his in order to sink down over him, but once you did, you stopped thinking about the cramped space and could only focus on the hiss the Mandalorian was letting out as you impaled yourself on his length. You couldn’t catch your breath and your hands slapped against his chest, so you could slow your descent onto him.

You felt him going deeper than even before, sure he was hitting your cervix, but the feeling of fullness was so intense you didn’t care. You let out a tiny scream when he bucked his hips up into you. His hand flew to your mouth, but he didn’t stop. He bucked his hips up again and you saw stars exploding behind your eyes again. Your head hit the ceiling again, and then he was pulling your torso down, smashing your head against his shoulder. This only provided another different, delicious angle for him to penetrate you.

He stilled your hips from riding him, grabbed your waist and began to thrust up into you. You couldn’t stop the moans that he was eliciting and tried to bury them in the fabric at his throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned from beneath the helmet. He was so much more vocal this time; you liked it. Your pussy clenched tightly around him. “Fuck,” he rasped again.

You clenched tighter around him again and he stilled. “Stop,” he wheezed, his grip on your waist tightening as if he could control your grip around his cock that way. He thrust up again with a gasp and your pussy gripped him tightly again. You smiled wickedly at his visor now.

He tilted his helmet at you, then his hand was pulling you roughly down.

“What-”

Suddenly, he was wrapping both arms vice-like around your back, holding you down flush against him and thrusting hard up into you. You yelped in equal measures pleasure and surprise into his neck. He didn’t let up. You knew the bunk was rattling, metallic bangs echoing across the ship, but you weren’t sure either of you cared.

You couldn’t control your cunt anymore either. He was building you up and breaking you apart again. Your moans into his neck grew louder until he thrust one last time, so hard and fast that you were sure you’d lost your vision briefly. Then you were both coming. Together. You seized up over him, clenching his clothes in your fists as you shook with the power of your orgasm. At the same time, he was frozen, his hips lifted above the bunk, and you could feel his seed beginning to ooze out of you when finally his hips dropped. You were both paralyzed; your body gave short seizure-like movements. You couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

“What the- fuck...Mandalorian” you gasped. “If you…” You stopped to take a shuddering breath. “If you don’t fuck me like that- every time from now on...I’ll…”

But you lost your train of thought. His hips jerked again and your pussy was seizing up around him again even as he softened within you.

“I’ll fuck you every way…” He was out of breath too still. Finally his arms came up and around to hold you to him, though you still could not move. “I’ll fuck you every way you want me to,” he promised, gasping when you clenched around him again at his words.

“Fuck,” you echoed again, your brain still unable to formulate anything more eloquent than that.

You didn’t know how you were going to get through any ensuing mission at all without being able to fuck the Mandalorian at every given moment. Your heart clenched when he pulled you tight to him, his thoughts now on holding you instead of on fucking you.

Kriff, you thought. You were fucked in more way than one. Slowly the Mandalorian was consuming you in every way that mattered. Before, you’d seen an exit, a way to back out of what was happening. Now...you were no longer sure that out existed.

Tag List: @disn3yfreak @cosmo-bear @rintheemolion @readsalot73 @space-princesssss @crushingonmando @kinkywitchy @imaginebeinlovedbyme @scintilla-morningstar @creamysacrilege @abesottedlass @persephonehemingway @doubtedbus409 @satans-tongues @retrofaek @mando--daddo @random066 @pascalisthepunkest @fruitsaladtree @snokesthrussy @groovinomicon @brooklymw @bithepowerofthegay @blue-tidal-wave @mrsparknuts @skeletongrudge @kateb013 @earthtokace

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theelvenhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Unintentional Entrapment

Lindir x Reader

1.8k words

* * *

You walked cautiously, a stack of books in your hands and skewing your views. You were solely relying on the fact that if any other elves saw you that they’d steer clear. Massive volumes of different Annals and Histories had been requested by Erestor as he was readying to check inventory and categorize the library to make it flow better. His request had been larger than either of you had anticipated, but nonetheless you were determined to make one trip.

You were too caught up in your thoughts to hear the ellon coming around the corner of the bookshelves. Thinking deeply about what it is you might need to do after dropping these off, what might help Erestor with the hefty task at hand. The other elf hurrying quickly when suddenly he collided with you clumsily making you gasp with surprise. The two of you immediately fell back and into a shorter stack of shelves so hard they began to wobble.

Your books crashed to the floor with loud thuds, and suddenly you felt yourselves beginning to fall further as the bookshelf began to careen into the floor. Both of you falling in a heap of robes and limbs, with a loud crash the bookshelf fell into another and all you could do was watch as a few more shelves fell.

“Oh my! Y/N! I-I apologize!” You heard from next to you, turning your head you were met with the sight of Lindir sitting on the floor against the shelf next to you. Cheeks deep crimson and his gray eyes wide and shocked, you couldn’t help but begin to blush yourself in your own surprise.

“It is alright, mellon nin.” You began in a gentle voice, sympathy and concern filling you to see him so frazzled. You adored Lindir and you hated it when he felt so stressed over accidents. He was such a kind and gentle soul,

“I-I didn’t see you, I truly hadn’t meant too. I didn’t see you there.” He began in a flustered and shaky voice, getting up and quickly from the floor. Just as he did so you didn’t miss how the dark gray robes were pinned tightly beneath the bottom of the shelving. As he moved it didn’t seem to pull them free either,

“Lindir your robes...” You pointed out in a soft voice as you sat up fully from your laid position against the shelf. Lindir snapped his head down to look at the shelves, frowning deeply with concern.

“Oh dear... Hopefully you are not.” He breathed out blushing furiously, before he moved to you with his limited distance to help you stand. Lindir’s hands shook as they held yours, casting his eyes down away from yours. It was as you stood that Lindir began to spy your robes too were trapped beneath the shelving,

“Oh my... Y/N I am afraid that you are trapped as well.” He sighed out with worry filling with his voice as he began to put distance once more between the two of you. Just as he opened his mouth to begin to speak did Erestor come rounding the corner, sighing out in exasperation. A deep scowl on his face as he looked over the fallen shelves, it only seemed to grow as he turned his gaze to you and Lindir.

“When you said you were looking for Y/N, I thought it would be harmless Lindir.” He grumbled looking between you both, deep blue eyes narrowing. Quickly you looked to Lindir with mild surprise but decided to hold your tongue to save him from further embarrassment. Lindir was so red and flustered already, you feared he may faint if you piled on anymore.

“You shall help me right these shelves and pick up the books, I care not how urgently Master Elrond needs you. You cannot just come in and destroy my library.” Erestor griped pointedly, urging you both to move off to the side but neither of you did. Only looking between one another before back to the grumpy and upset Erestor.

“I am afraid, Erestor, that our robes are stuck beneath the case.” You answered so Lindir wouldn’t have too, meekly he clasped his hands together at his waist, staring down at the hardwood floor. Erestor scoffed at the revelation, rolling his eyes with great frustration and with distaste.

“I am fetching Lord Glorfindel to deal with this mess.” He continued in an annoyed tone, swiveling on the ball of his foot before he hurried from your sights. Lindir let out the breath he had been holding, carefully moving to sit on the fallen bookcase. Quietly you sat next to him, looking him over.

The bright crimson long fading into a soft pink, his eyes not nearly as wide or his hands as fidgety now that Erestor had left. You couldn’t help but smile softly admiring how handsome he looked, also noting that Lindir especially was intimidated by Erestor despite working alongside him. Though you couldn’t rightfully blame him, Erestor could have a nasty temper and today you both seemed to luck out.

“Lindir? Are you alright?” You asked in a gentle voice, shyly he peered over at you. Sitting up with a little more confidence, trying to wipe away the wrinkles on his form fitting robes as he sighed out. Beginning to blush again,

“I-I am, thank you... Are you alright Y/N? I ran into you to the point we knocked over the bookcases! Are you sure you are not hurt?” You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity of his words, as well as finding the amusement over the whole ordeal. You never knew that such a thing could happen with Lindir, though your amusement only served to fluster him further.

“I am alright Lindir, it surprised me more than anything.” You answered him truthfully with a gentle smile, Lindir released a heavy sigh of relief at your words. Glad to know that he hadn’t hurt you,

“Praise Eru...” He breathed, and you hummed at his praise, both of you falling into a comfortable silence as you sat beside one another. Letting your thoughts begin to drift away, Erestors words coming back to mind. Curiosity began to gnaw at you as you thought on what he said. Lindir had been looking for you.

While that wasn’t something that was uncommon considering you were friends... It was unusual for him to want to speak with you while you were both working.

“Lindir?” You began, breaking the silence. Quickly he turned his head, dark grey eyes looking at you and his dark brown hair falling over his shoulder.

“Yes, Y/N?” He began in a meek tone,

“Erestor said you’d been looking for me... Was there something that you needed?” You asked, the more you spoke the more red Lindir had begun to turn once again at your question. Eyes widening some and he began to fidget and pick at his robes again. Slowly he began to shake his head no, releasing a shaky breath before pausing and beginning to nod instead.

“I-Yes... there is indeed something I would like to discuss with you, Y/N.” He stated nervously, you frowned with some concern as Lindir had never been this nervous with wanting to speak with you before.

“Of course. Anything you need of me Lindir, I am happy to lend you an ear.” You continued encouragingly and supportively, Lindir gave you a nervous smile before it quickly fell. Closing his eyes as he began to try and work up the courage to speak with you on whatever had been on his mind. For a long moment you watched as he seemed to heavily consider going back on what he had to say, struggling to get his words out of his mouth.

“Y/N… This is… a lot harder than I anticipated.” He breathed, keeping his gaze down on his lap, you couldn’t help the sympathetic look that crossed your features. You smiled some knowing that the subject must be considerably personal if he was having this hard of a time,

“Take your time Lindir. I doubt Glorfindel will be here any time soon.” You said softly, Lindir let out a soft scoff at your words. Less of offense and more at the time he now had,

“Y/N… I… like you…” He breathed out nervously, looking to you for a moment gauging your reaction before looking back to his slender hands. You paused for a moment absorbing this information, well it was no secret that he liked you. Why else would you two spend any time together at all? You were friends after all! Why else would he tell… Suddenly it clicked. You couldn’t help the surprise you wore on your face as the epiphany hit you.

“Oh.. Lindir-”

“I-I can understand if you do not feel the same way…” He breathed out, quickly interrupting you nervously. Gently you scooted a little closer, turning towards him some, bringing a hand to gently rest over the top of his, a blush blooming across your face as well at the gesture.

“I wasn’t going to say that…” You whispered back with some nervousness lacing your gentle voice. Slowly Lindir turned his head to look at you, another breath of relief finding him at your words, shoulders relaxing as they sagged some. Shakily Lindir unclasped his hands to receive yours, carefully holding your hand. Both of you blushing deeply as you sat in a nervous silence for a moment,

“I am… more than relieved to hear that…” He whispered in return to you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, making you smile widely at his words. Carefully you leaned in, bringing your freehand to gently rest against his opposite cheek and leaning to give him a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So I take it the talk went well?” A cheerful voice piped up suddenly, making you both jump as you pulled away. Lindir only squeezed your hand harder as you both looked up to find a bright and sunny Glorfindel standing before you both. Arms folded across his chest as Erestor came from behind him, you laughed nervously as you both let go of each other's hand. Blushing deeply,

“Y-yes it did.” Lindir confessed timidly, coyly the two of you stealing a glance of one another. Glorfindel only smiled wider at his answer,

“Good, I am glad to hear that.” He beamed looking between you both with satisfaction at the news,

“Now let us free you both so you can have proper time together.” He smirked, you couldn’t wait to begin picking up books. Giving you both something to focus on as opposed to your nervousness while discussing a date… Though a mess had been made, you couldn’t be anymore grateful for the news that came with it.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this is being reposted but it wasn’t showing up at all on my dash both laptop or phone, so reposting. All it showed was the heading for me! If anyone else has this problem please let me know!

tags:

@saviorsongwrites @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandom-hoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring

#Lindir #Lindir x Reader #LOTR #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Lord of the rings #the hobbit #the fellowship of the ring #the return of the king #the two towers #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #one shot #one shots #headcanon #headcanons

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madyxtothemax · 4 years ago

Text

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus:

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had.

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point.

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west.

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up.

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose.

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me.

A tattoo shop.

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that.

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months.

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark.

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all.

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word…

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible.

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.>

Hey man, anything I can help you with?

Atticus:

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement.

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions.

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not.

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness.

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on.

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these?

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills.

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching. Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically.

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind?

Atticus:

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me.

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually.

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.-

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book.

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx.

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.-

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.-

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted.

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page.

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk. There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere.

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous?

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous.

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus.

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right.

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have.

It didn’t.

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted.

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here...

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his.

Atticus.

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue. I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected.

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP.

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I’d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy.

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural. My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow.

Time to perish that thought.

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.>

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.> And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.-

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again.

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want?

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery.

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego.

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder.

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.-

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience. The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE.

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot.

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it.

And then he said it. What he wanted.

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint.

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors?

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size? Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it> Smooth?

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus.

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely.

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad.

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.-

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.-

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth.

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion.

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after.

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated, but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake!

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique.

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents.

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe.

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you.

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger? <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it.

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made.

What was my life right now?

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that.

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy.

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that.

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think.

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings?

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me.

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock.

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock. I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

<My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry. Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce.

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus:

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments.

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart.

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word.

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face.

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story.

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would.

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath.

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

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ibelieveinharrystyles · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Nine: Baby You’re A Firework

In some ways life had become easier for Ashley since her pregnancy was leaked to the press, she could freely walk Daisy to school each morning without having to wear the baggiest jumper she could find. She was also inundated with kind messages from other women, who like her were raising children as a young adult, she finally felt ready for her baby’s arrival. Knowing the baby was due to come any day, Daisy was behaving more angelic, perhaps in an attempt to make Ashley’s life easier, or maybe it was to ensure she wasn’t forgotten about when the baby arrived. “”Mummy, when the baby comes will I still be it’s big sister?” Daisy asked as the pair walked to school.

“What do you mean Dais?” Ashley asked.

“Harry isn’t my Dad is he? But he’s the baby’s daddy.” Daisy replied.

“You’ll still be the baby’s big sister darling, in fact you’ll be the best big sister ever.” Ashley assured her.

“I promise I will be mummy.” Daisy smiled as they approached the school gates.

“Be a good girl today poppet, and remember we’ve got Lou and Lux’s fireworks tonight.” Ashley told her, holding her tight in the warmest of hugs.

“Love you mummy!” Daisy cried before running through the school gates.

“She’s a sweetheart,” One of the mums beside Ashley remarked.

“I don’t know where she gets it from, I was a little tear away at that age.” Ashley replied.

“Surely it’s her dad, he is a national treasure after all.” The lady smiled.

Although Harry wasn’t Daisy’s biological father, the whole world just assumed he was, he loved her like she was his own, and for Ashley that was enough.

“So do you feel ready for the new baby?” Gemma and Ashley had planned to shop for bits for the baby, but the british weather has other ideas. They’d managed to find shelter in a small vegan coffee shop in the back streets of Hampstead. It was one of those cool instagrammable places with hanging ivy trailing across ceiling beams and pink neon light signs.

“It’s less scary this time, even though Harry won’t be there for the birth, I know he’s going to be the best dad.” Ashley replied, sipping on her hot chocolate.

“Definitely, he’s finally mastered flat pack furniture, he’s set up a little nursery in the room next to his.” Gemma smiled.

“You know a mum at the school gates referred to Harry as Daisy’s dad, but I didn’t correct her. Because it felt right.” Ashley told her.

“Daisy will always be his world, we both know that.” Gemma assured her.

“Yeah, she adores him.” Ashley replied.

“And he adores you. He’d move heaven and earth for you if he had to. Where did it go wrong for you two? You were so good together.”

“Maybe we were always just destined to be best friends, and nothing more.” Ashley sighed.

“Ash, I’ve seen the way you look at each other, even at your house when the pregnancy got leaked, he could’ve easily contacted Jeff to protect his reputation and let us look after you, but he went straight to you. For Harry, it will only ever be you.” Gemma explained, she knew her brother better than anyone else, she knew they were right for each other since they were kids. She saw Harry’s face on the day of Ashley’s prom, when she was a bridesmaid at Anne's wedding and when she was on his arm at the Brits, he adored her and he cherished her. If Gemma could put the way Harry felt about Ashley into bottles and sell it, she would, because no matter what happened, or what anyone said, he would only really ever have eyes for Ashley.

It was late in the evening, thankfully the rain had held off, Ashley and Daisy were at Lou’s house for a small bonfire night gathering, the kids were playing in the garden, toasting marshmallows on the bonfire with Lux’s dad Tom, while the mums sat in the kitchen eating the leftovers of the takeaway pizza the kids had obliterated. “So when are you due Ash?” Lou’s sister Sam asked.

“I was due for halloween, but clearly this one enjoys it in there more than Daisy did.” Ashley told her, she knew the baby would come soon as every so often she’d feel a little flutter or a kick in her ribs.

“Have you got any names?” Lottie asked, from across the table.

“There’s a couple, if it’s a girl I love the idea of another flower name to match Daisy, and if its a boy, there's a few nature related names I love.” Ashley had one name in mind, regardless of whether it was a boy or a girl, she wasn’t planning on telling anyone yet, but she knew it would be a name Harry would love and hold close to his heart forever.

All the other parents and children had left, Lux and Daisy were curled up on the sofa drinking hot chocolate while they watched a movie on the TV. “Hey Dais, what are you watching?” Ashley asked as she poked her head around the living room door.

“It’s my Harry.” Daisy whispered, Ashley looked at the screen to see Harry and the boys performing at the O2, the girls had chosen to watch the One Direction movie, a film that captured so many moments that Ashley held close to her heart.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” Ashley asked Lou as she returned to the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Lou asked, Ashley raised her eyebrows, “You mean Harry don’t you?”

Before Ashley could explain her epiphany the sharpest shooting pain hit her spine.

She gripped onto Lou’s marble top counter, “It’s happening Lou, the baby’s coming.”

“Are you sure?” Lou asked.

“That’s definitely a contraction Lou.” Ashley winced, “Why do I only go into labour in kitchens?”

“Tom’s out the back, I’ll ask him to stay with the girls, Daisy can stay here tonight. Where’s the baby bag?” Lou replied.

“In the hallway, in the cupboard under the stairs.” Ashley told her.

“Ok I’ll grab that and call us an uber, you sit down and I’ll tell Gem to meet us there too.” Lou instructed her.

Ashley pulled out her phone, ringing Harry, even though she knew full well he would be on set filming, “Hey Harry,” She winced as it began recording her voicemail, “It seems as though our little one is on it’s way into the world, Daisy’s in safe hands, she’s watching This Is Us with Lux, she is so proud of you H. I know you’ll worry but don’t because Lou is taking me to the hospital and Gem said she’ll meet us there. I’ve been a bitch these past few months, I should’ve let you in, but we both know that after the way other people have treated me before, that being open and vulnerable scares the shit out of me. I want you in the baby’s life and I want you in mine, frankly at this point I don’t care what capacity it's in, because you mean the world to me Harry, you’ve been the one constant source of happiness in my life since the day we met. From the day my dad died and you slept beside me because you were scared of what I might do to myself, when I had my first period and you spent your pocket money on a box of all my favourite things and when you were like a father to Daisy, that meant more than anything else ever could. Whatever happens between us Harry, whether we parent our baby as best friends, or whether we grow old and grey together, I will always be your golden girl.”

Compared to Daisy’s birth, this one was a walk in the park, Ashley was sat up in the hospital bed, already fully dilated and the nurses had given her the epidural to relieve some of the pain. “Right Ash, it looks like this baby isn’t hanging around, shall we get going?” The midwife said as she pulled on her surgical gloves. Lou had returned home to the girls, but Gemma stayed by Ashley’s side, holding onto her hand for reassurance. “When you’re ready Ash, I need you to push on the next contraction.” The midwife instructed her, “You are sensational Ash! That's the head delivered, I need you to push really hard to get this little one’s shoulders out now.”

“I am never letting your brother get me pregnant again.” Ashley huffed to Gemma after pushing through another agonising contraction.

“This baby is a chunky one Ash, I need you to give me one last almighty push, use every last bit of energy you have to push it out.” Ashley used every muscle in her body to push the baby out as hard as she could, until the once silent room was filled with the shrill cries of her new baby. “Congratulations Ash, you’ve got a little boy.” The midwife cut the umbilical cord and immediately placed him on Ashley’s chest.

“Hello little man, aren’t you a beauty?” Ashley whispered, a single tear of pride rolling down her cheek.

“He’s perfect Ash,” Gemma smiled, “You were incredible.”

“Welcome to the world baby Robin.” Ashley whispered, already completely infatuated with her new baby.

“Robin?” Gemma smiled.

“I adored your stepdad, when we lost my dad he was always there for me, he always looked out for me, and I know how much Harry loved him, and it’s the only name that feels fully suited to him.”

Ashley was in love, her brand new baby boy lay sound asleep in her arms, his delicate little hands poking out of the sleeves of his baby grow. Gemma had gone home to get some sleep, which Ashley had encouraged her to do, so now it was just the two of them in the little hospital room. Ashley’s phone began to buzz and she picked it up to see Harry’s face, “Hello stranger.” Ashley grinned.

“Is everything alright? I got your voicemail.” Harry asked from the comfort of his trailer.

“Everything’s great you could even say perfect,” Ashley whispered, “Do you want to meet him?”

“Him? We’ve got a little baby boy?” Harry replied, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek.

“This is our little baby boy, Robin.” Ashley told him.

“Robin? You know Mum is going to adore that, and I adore him too, thank you for naming him that.” Harry smiled.

“It only felt right, I think I always knew that’s what I’d call him, it just seemed to make sense.” Ashley replied, staring at her little boy in adoration. “He’s way bigger than Dais was, he weighed almost double what she weighed when she arrived.”

“She’s going to love him.” Harry whispered, “I can’t wait until I can see you all in person again, I miss you all like mad.”

“We miss you too.”

Robin made Ashley feel truly complete, it was the following morning and she had just changed into a comfier t-shirt and joggers, along with one of Harry’s tour hoodies. Robin was sleeping peacefully in his little cot, having just been fed, as she sent Harry yet another picture of their little boy, a little person popped their head around the door. “Hello Mummy,” She heard a whisper.

She looked over to see Daisy, holding a balloon and a gift bag with Lou beside her, “Hello my best girl, how are you?” Ashley crouched down, greeting her daughter with open arms, “I’ve missed you so much angel.”

“I’ve been very good, Lou made us special pancakes for breakfast.” Daisy told her.

“That’s lovely,” Ashley smiled, “Thank you so much for having her Lou.”

“It’s no problem really, she is an absolute sweetheart.” Lou replied.

“Daisy, would you like to meet your little brother?” Ashley asked, Daisy nodded in response as Ashley lifted Robin out of the cot. “This our little baby Robin.”

“Like my Grandad Robin?” Ashley was taken aback, she wasn’t sure if Daisy remembered him, but everyone loved to talk about him fondly, so Daisy must just have picked up on it, it melted Ashley’s heart that Daisy called him her grandad.

“Yes Dais, just like Grandad Robin.” For once it seemed as if life made complete sense, Ashley had two beautiful children who she loved more than anything else, and finally she knew exactly how she felt about Harry.

#BEST FRIEND HARRY #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #one direction #one shot #harry styles one shot #one direction memes #Niall Horan #louis tomilson

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benkouji726 · 4 years ago

Text

Merry Kissmas

Summary:

The one that answered Thomas’ question “will these lips ever be kissed again?”

(Spoiler alert: They will)

——————————————

After years of being in the military, the Captain had built a systematic living schedule, which, like all his other quirks and habits, died hard (pun intended).

So every night he would go to bed at 2200, flat on his back, arms on his stomach. He would list all the great battles in alphabetical order, or memorize one of the king’s or queen’s speeches, and then after exact 9.5 minutes he would be sound asleep. Fanny usually woke him at 0200, but at this point, he was able to go back to sleep in the blink of an eye. All in all, he slept very well.

Until tonight.

He had already counted all of the English kings and queens, both in alphabetical and chronological order, he even listed their significant others, while trying to describe them with just one word (he gave Charles II “slutty”, he didn’t want to speak of the royals in this disrespectful manner, but it was what it was), and he still couldn’t sleep.

In fact, he was so restless he felt like he was coming out of his skin. His heart pounded, his forehead and hands sweaty, he was even slightly flushed. And he just didn’t get it.

Granted, it was the best Christmas he had ever since he’d been dead, but should it affect him this much? Or this way? It was almost like he was hot and bothered. It didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t have been aroused by the queen’s speech, could he? It was so highly inappropriate, to the point that just the idea of being turned on by THE QUEEN made him sick to his stomach and he couldn’t stay in the bed for a minute longer.

He got up, thinking some air might help, and wandered downstairs to the living room. The fire had already died down, Robin nowhere to be seen. He was debating whether to just sit on the couch for a bit or go out to the lake when he heard a long, familiar sigh.

He groaned, because due to some unidentifiable reason, Thomas was the last person he wanted to see at this troublesome moment. But the Captain still turned to the adjourning door to the dining room, and sure enough, Thomas was there, leaning against the door frame, looking up at something. His face was half hidden in the dark, half lit by the moonlight, and the Captain was suddenly struck by the fact that Thomas was truly a beautiful man, if only in his pale, skinny and dramatic way.

He also had an epiphany about why he was having a hard time falling asleep.

He was aroused. By Thomas. Because of the Twist-It.

Groaning once more, because the idea of being turned on by THOMAS was actually not so much better than being turned on by the Queen. Yet here he was, frozen on spot, staring at Thomas, all the sensations of being pushed up against Thomas in all the inappropriate parts flashing back to him, and he found himself almost half erect.

No, this was NOT happening.

He slowly backed off, desperate to retreat to his bedroom, when Thomas spotted him. Of course he did. It was just the Captain’s damn luck.

“Why are you still up?” Thomas squinted at him, suspicious, “you were never up in the middle of the night, even when Fanny was screaming particularly loudly those few nights.”

Damn him. They had been living together for so long that they hardly had any secrets left. And that was such a spot-on question to which the Captain had no answer to. Or he did. He just didn’t wanna offer it.

So he stalled. “I could ask you the same thing!”

“No, you couldn’t”, honestly, Thomas was way too sober at this goddamn hour, “I’m always up late in the night, and you know this.”

The thing was, he DID know this. He was always sound asleep, but somehow, he knew Thomas often had trouble sleeping.

He was thinking a different strategy to steer this conversation when Thomas spoke again, he seemed like he figured something out and was even rolling his eyes.

“She was in TV and nobody can actually touch her. Would you get over it already?”

It took ten seconds for the Captain to catch up on what Thomas was saying, and he was both relieved and a little embarrassed, because really, when did they get to know each other this well?

Better to go with it though. “But we can see her and her surroundings! In such close range! That was so unroyal!”

“You do know unroyal is not a word, right?” Thomas rolled his eyes, again. And the Captain was getting a little annoyed. Seriously, if there was one ridiculous person between them, it would so not be him.

“And you do know even if Alison wanted to kiss you, which she didn’t, and even if you two had the chance to both stand under the mistletoe, which you hadn’t, you still couldn’t physically lock lips, right?”

It was a low blow, he knew. And judging by the hurt look on Thomas’ face, it blew hard.

He expected Thomas to yell at him, to take a swing at him which led them into another fight (he would NOT admit that even the idea of fighting with Thomas turned him on a bit because what the hell was wrong with him), or to simply storm off. But instead he just glared at him, a million emotions flash through his big eyes, hurt, wistful, and angry. The small mistletoe hanging above his head, adding a flavor of irony and sadness into the image, and suddenly, the Captain didn’t feel like victory at all.

It didn’t help his guilt when Thomas seemed deflated like a punctured balloon after some hard glaring. He looked down, shoulders sagged, he looked even more pale and fragile than his usual self, which was saying A LOT.

“We really couldn’t, could we?” He murmured, sounding defeated.

Silence fell over them. Thick, uncomfortable. To the point that the Captain felt the need to lighten the mood, except he didn’t know how. So he spoke the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be: “But we could.”

Fuck. That came out of nowhere, and it was such bad flirting the Captain felt his face was on fire.

Thomas was visibly confused for a moment, until he wasn’t. He widened his eyes then. “Did you just suggest...”

OK. Time to do damage control. The Captain opened his mouth to say it was just stating the fact and what was Thomas thinking that it could possibly mean what he thought it meant, but his mouth decided to disobey his brain at that crucial moment.

“I mean you and Alison couldn’t, but you and me could. In fact, we did touch each other a lot during that Twist-It session.”

So there went all his hope of avoiding humiliation, great.

He didn’t want to look at Thomas after blurting out all of his inappropriate thoughts, because he knew what would be on his face. Surprise, confusion, awkwardness, even disgust. It was not his first rodeo.

Except he knew Thomas pretty well, even if it pained him to admit it. He knew, deep down, Thomas was not one to be disgusted by desire or attraction, even if they were not the normal kind for him. So he mentally braced himself and looked.

There was surprise on Thomas’ face, sure. But he also looked flustered. At first, the Captain thought it was embarrassment, but then Thomas licked his lips, eyes darkening, and the Captain found himself once again aroused, the desire so strong he felt like being punched in the stomach.

“But I thought you were straight?” He knew he should throw caution to the wind. His libido screamed at him for still asking questions when he could finally get some after such a long time, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“And I thought you would never be attracted to me. Guess we’re both wrong.” Thomas smirked. Actually SMIRKED. He looked nothing like the usual version of himself, not a single ounce of nervousness and awkwardness. He looked like the one he described in his love story with Lady Elisabeth: confident, handsome, sure of himself, not afraid to show his love and fight anybody who dared to stand in his way, and fearlessly enthusiastic. It was such a good look on him.

Feeling slightly dazed, the Captain stepped forward, like being pulled by some invisible string, while Thomas stood there, still leaning against the door frame, but somehow his whole demeanor had “invitation” all written over it.

When the Captain finally stood in front of Thomas, he was already so turned on he couldn’t see straight. And by the look of Thomas’ hungry eyes, he was equally affected.

But just when they were inches apart, breath mingling, two hearts pounding in sync, the Captain spoke, lustful yet still confused. “What are we doing? This doesn’t make sense. We never wanted each other before.”

“Didn’t we though?” Thomas whispered, brown eyes locking his blue ones. “I had been attracted to you even before you were dead, you know, pining military man who is this good looking? I might be dead, but I’m not blind. I didn’t think you would feel the same, but apparently tonight has proven me wrong.”

He smirked once more. Which made him impossibly more attractive, damn him, and said in a flirtatious tone. “And even if we didn’t, what is Christmas if not kissing the wrong person under the mistletoe?”

With that, he captured the Captain’s lips.

It didn’t feel wrong at all.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts christmas special #my fic #the Captain x Thomas Thorne #yep #I did it again #it started out as a pwp #but it took a sudden turn into pg town #I just want Thomas to be kissed OK?#preferably by the Captain #I need it!

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hrtiu · 4 years ago

Text

My contribution to day one of Rexsoka week. It’s a little bit of a bummer given the prompt is ‘hope,’ but I like where it ends up!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703133

Ahsoka had been in love with Rex for about a year when she told him to leave her on some desolate Outer-Rim skug hole of a planet.

A year earlier the epiphany had been like punching a hole in a piece of flimsi—easy and weightless but completely irrevocable. He’d come back to Coruscant to speak at Dogma’s court-martial and to give his report on the Umbara debacle, and she’d been so relieved—so overjoyed—to finally see him healthy and sound that it just clicked.

She didn’t say anything, of course. Even if he reciprocated her feelings, there wasn’t really any way either of them could act on them, and she didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak. She also didn’t feel ready for those kinds of feelings, and doubted Rex was either. Rex was both a grown man and a being who had only experienced twelve years of life—all of them spent as a soldier preparing to sacrifice himself for the Republic. And as many adult situations in which she’d found herself and as much as she liked to think otherwise, curled up in the dark of her room at night Ahsoka was forced to admit to herself that she was still a child in many ways.

Thinking about it as little as possible was Ahsoka’s best defense, and she channeled all her affection for Rex into a fierce loyalty to him and all the clones of the 501st and an unshakable determination to win the war. Maybe after the war… she found herself thinking in her weaker moments. After the war what? She’d become a knight, and his legal status would be uncertain. There was no future.

Things didn’t change much after she left the Order. In theory she was no longer bound by the Code and could seek out personal relationships if she wanted to, but she couldn’t just switch off her entire way of being so easily. She also had no way of knowing if she’d ever see Rex again. She was unlikely to be allowed back into the GAR, and he wouldn’t be able to go looking for her even if he wanted to. She put her head down and tried to move forward with her life, but when her teenage mind decided to take off on flights of romantic fancy, her partner always had brown-golden eyes, stern posture, and light hair that contrasted against his dark skin.

When Ahsoka finally reunited with him for the Siege of Mandalore, she felt the stirrings of hope for the first time. Nothing about Rex was soft, but somehow the modest smile he gave her when introducing her to the 332nd was heart-breakingly tender. She’d worried somewhere in the back of her mind that Rex would have moved on, would not have carried their friendship with him like she had. But she’d returned to find the same disciplined, loyal, brave, true man she’d come to consider her dearest friend.

How quickly things change, Ahsoka thought as she watched the reddish sunlight of the dwarf sun filter through the tiny, rank room she and Rex had rented for the night. The Venator had crashed on some unnamed moon six months earlier, and they’d been on the run ever since. Ahsoka turned her head towards her fellow fugitive, asleep on his own narrow bed across the room from her, and she wondered how he always managed to coax his brain to unconsciousness no matter where he lay his head. Ahsoka hadn’t slept well in months.

In some ways she felt closer to Rex than ever. There was a heavy burden of sadness they shared between the two of them, dragging it from system to system as they tried to erase their tracks, and it tied them together like two prisoners on a chain gang. In other ways she’d never felt more distant from him, not even after she’d left the Order and didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

I did this, the familiar voice of guilt played in Ahsoka’s head. I took everything from him.

She’d replayed her escape from Order 66 over and over again in her mind, trying to understand where she’d gone wrong, what she could have done differently to save all those men. Try as she might, she didn’t see any way out without either giving herself up, which she could not accept, or letting Rex go, which she would not abide. But she must be wrong. There must have been some other way, there must have been something.

Rex stirred in his sleep, and Ahsoka watched the broad planes of his back expand and retract with each breath. It was exactly the same back as his brothers, the ones she’d let die. Did he wish that he’d died with them? Did he wish she’d left him in blissful, brainwashed ignorance? Did he… did he wish she’d just let herself go down?

The sunlight fully peaked through their window and Rex’s restless movements turned to a real awakening. He opened his eyes and greeted the day with a groan, then rolled out of bed and got dressed with typical clone efficiency.

It was still strange to see Rex in civilian clothes—almost like that time she’d seen a holo of Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armor. The faded trousers and stained tunic never seemed to fit him quite right.

“Well, it’s a new day, Commander,” Rex said, and Ahsoka winced. He still always called her that, and she hated the title more with each passing day.

“Not much different from the last few,” Ahsoka said.

“We’ve been here too long. That patrol yesterday was too close a call—we need to move on.”

Ahsoka had to agree, though it pained her to admit it. She was getting so tired of running. She nodded her head wearily.

“So? Where to?” Rex said.

Ahsoka studied Rex for a long moment, then looked within herself and realized that today she finally had the strength to say what she’d been thinking had to be said for a long while.

“You need to check out the tip we got about Wolffe,” she said evenly.

Rex’s brow furrowed and he rubbed at his eyes, as if Ahsoka’s words could be chalked up to his drowsy state. “He’s supposed to be on Kamino. We can’t go to a planet full of chipped clones.”

“I can’t,” Ahsoka said pointedly.

Rex narrowed his eyes at Ahsoka. “What are you suggesting, Commander.”

Ahsoka sat up in bed and gathered her scratchy blankets around her. “He somehow managed to get a message to us that he wants out—you can’t ignore that.”

“We can’t ignore that, I agree.”

“He’s going to be on Kamino for the foreseeable future, and if I go there I’ll only hold you back.”

“Ahsoka-”

“I’m not going to take you away from your brothers again, Rex.”

Rex’s stern brow twitched and he pursed his lips. A long, weighty moment passed between them, then Rex spoke. “I won’t abandon you.”

“It’s not abandoning if I’m asking you to go,” Ahsoka said.

A look of deep hurt flitted past Rex’s face. “You’re ordering me away?”

“No!” Ahsoka said, getting to her feet. “That’s exactly the pro-” she cut herself off and sighed, taking a moment to collect herself. “Before, on the Venator. I made the decision for you.”

“No you didn’t. I all but asked you to take the chip out.”

“Maybe, but I put you in a position where you had to choose between me and your brothers and… it really wasn’t much of a choice.”

Rex huffed in frustration and threw his hands in the air. “Look, I don’t blame you-”

“Don’t you?”

The question lingered in the air between them, and Rex looked away. “No, I don’t,” he said. His voice was firm, but Ahsoka could see the doubt in his eyes.

And that was the crux of it. This awful tragedy hung between them, and would always be there unless they could find a way past it. If Rex was always stuck with her, always following her orders and watching her back, she knew their connection would remain poisoned by guilt and unbidden resentment. He needed to forge his own path, to find his independence. Then, maybe… Maybe many years in the future…

Ahsoka walked up to Rex and put a hand on his cheek, turning his head gently to face her. “I’m done issuing commands. Stay with me if you want. But I’m going to pay for a few more nights here, and I’m going to sleep here tonight, and I hope that when I wake tomorrow morning you’ll be gone.”

Rex met her eyes for a few seconds, then his gaze fell to the floor. Ahsoka held her breath as she waited for him to come to his conclusions. He swallowed a tense knot in his throat, then nodded, all uncertainty gradually draining away.

Pain and relief flooded Ahsoka’s heart in equal measure, and she reached for Rex’s hand, daring more physical affection than she’d ever shown before. “Let’s go out to the market,” she said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “It’s a nice day.”

Rex squeezed her hand in return before letting go, and together they left the seedy hotel for the marketplace in the center of town.

It truly was a nice day—the first pleasant, relaxed, uncomplicated day either of them had experienced in years. They ate a breakfast of hot caf and fried nuna eggs in a tiny cafe and watched the sun gradually bathe the dusty town in reddish light. They went to the open air plaza and dug through piles of the vendors’ wares until they found a newish, non-stained shirt for Rex. Rex picked out several blumfruits from the fruit stand, insisting that Bariss had once taught him a foolproof method for picking the ripest and sweetest, and as Ahsoka ate the red fruit she had to admit it was the tastiest she’d ever had. As night fell the daytime vendors closed up shop and other folks came out, some setting up games and other minor pieces of entertainment for the modest crowd. Ahsoka won Rex a small stuffed convor with a perfect game of ring toss, and though Rex complained that using the Force was cheating, he kept the plush. They ate dinner back at the hotel, whose food was actually somewhat passable despite the rundown building, then went to bed feeling restored.

Ahsoka pulled the covers up to her chin, her bones still steeped in the unfamiliar happiness of the day. She hadn’t felt this close to Rex since the crash, hadn’t enjoyed anything with Rex since then. She knew she’d made the right decision, as much as it would hurt to wake up alone the next day.

“‘Soka?” Rex’s voice carried through the darkness across the small room.

Ahsoka turned towards him, just barely making out the familiar angles of his face through the dim light. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka’s lips turned into a smile even as her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. “You’d do the same for me, Rex. There’s no need for thanks.”

“All the same…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“May the Force be with you, little’un.”

“May the Force be with you, Rex.”

---

The next day Ahsoka woke and looked across the room from her to find an empty bed. The dingy bed had been made to military precision, and Rex had left no other evidence behind. The tears Ahsoka had held back the night before would no longer cooperate, and she buried her face in her hands and cried.

She gave herself permission to cry for a good long while, and after an hour her tears were spent and her heart worn thin. Her sorrow had run out of her along with her tears, and all that was left was a stubborn, insistent sort of hope. Ahsoka closed her eyes and imagined Rex going to Kamino, somehow sneaking into the base and finding Wolffe. She imagined the two of them figuring out how to remove Wolffe’s chip, then going on a crusade to free more of their brothers. She imagined Rex becoming more and more the person he was meant to be, the person his servitude to the Republic held back. And at the end of it all, that foolish, optimistic hope imagined him returning home to her.

#rexsoka #rexsokaweek #fanfic

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cottage-babe · 4 years ago

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Burning Scars part VIIS

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figured id drop this real quick before the next chapter!! Its really short and not that important so its not really a real chapter ig

also! new update schedule is on sundays <3

Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar’s destiny?

*****This chapter takes place on Season 2 Episode 13*****

___

Groggily, Y/n sat up and yawned.

The sun was blinding; they all should’ve slept in the covers of the ferry, not right next to the railing and fully susceptible to the elements. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes to remove some of her sleep, but all it did was further the blur of her vision. The werewolf had to owlishly blink until her sight cleared.

When it did, the view didn’t disappoint.

There was a large wall stretching farther than her eyes could see. It was still a bit away, but the impressiveness had her awestruck. She looked around at her friends and saw that her travel buddies, along with her new acquaintances the Freedom Fighters, were still sleeping peacefully in their bedrolls. Y/n figured that it was the rocking of the waves that woke her and stood.

Actually, now that she was taking account of everyone again, she noticed that one person was missing from the group. Standing at the very front of the boat, the werewolf could see the familiar figure of Zuko, standing with his back facing her.

It was very cool that morning. It must’ve been due to the sun barely rising or the slight sprays of the water around them. Either way, it relaxed her in a way that she never truly felt on land; it almost made her nod off again. Despite all this, she pushed through her drowsiness and made her way over to Zuko.

The golden light from the sun made his hair shine brightly. The boy’s posture was relaxed as well, it seemed like she wasn’t the only one falling for the morning’s charm. He was leaned over the rails and rested gently on his forearms.

“Hey,” Y/n yawned as a greeting as she finally reached him.

Trust her, it was such a nice morning and she wasn’t all there. That was completely, 100%, the only reason why when she paused at his side, her head found itself leaned on his shoulder, eyes closed. He had tensed up at first, but once he realized who it was, relaxed once again.

“Why are you awake?” Zuko asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, sleep almost overcoming her before he spoke.

“I don’t know, but it’s way too early.”

Y/n looked up at the boy and found that he was already looking at her. His eyes were almost as breathtaking as the Wall that they were heading toward. The sunrise seemed to hit his iris’s perfectly, making the auburn color seem more accentuated. If she thought that they were pretty before, now couldn’t even be described.

Unfortunately, the memories of what happened last time she was in this position flooded back to her. She cleared her throat and removed her head, replicating his position on the barrier. The werewolf missed the disappointed look that he gave her.

“So, why are you up?”

Zuko nodded his head toward the large wall that Y/n had seen when she woke up. “I wanted to see the Wall while I still had the chance,” at her confused look, the boy continued. “That’s the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. I’m sure once everyone wakes up they’ll be crowding to see it.”

Y/n remembered what Jet had said the night before, about wanting to set his eyes on the wall. This must’ve been what he meant. She had to remind herself that this was a monumental moment for a lot of people.

“Do you think it’ll be good here? Like the people and stuff?” She asked.

The boy’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Probably not, the only people that come here are filthy refugees. It’s not like we’ll be here long anyways; we’re just waiting for everything to calm down and pass.”

“Right... and then you guys will go back to your ‘castle’ or whatever.” She whispered solemnly.

“Well, yeah, that’s the plan.” Zuko snorted.

People had started to crowd around the edges of the boat; it seemed like more passengers were waking up. She looked back to her group and found that Iroh and the Freedom Fighters had risen as well. She stated that fact to the boy next to her.

“We should head back anyways.” He offered.

Y/n shook her head. “You go ahead, I want to take one last look.”

Zuko went back to the group and left her to her thoughts.

Some part of her knew that this was going to happen. Their partnership was just that, a partnership. Zuko let her join their trip because he thought that she could help them; not because he cared. And once he does whatever his father wants him to, he’ll go running back home with his uncle. She was never part of that equation.

She scolded herself after thinking this, but she wished that she was more permanent in the duo’s life. She would probably still keep in touch with Iroh after they left, but with Zuko? Not so much.

And what was she going to do after then? Stay here in Ba Sing Se?

Y/n decided that she was just going to cross that bridge when she gets there. Worrying was just going to stress her out.

After that inner battle, she had gone back to the group and helped them pack up. Just as they finished, the ferry had landed on shore and the workers were directing them off. They had to walk a bit, but eventually they made their way to a train station that would bring them into the walls of the city.

First, however, they had to get their passports checked one last time before they could hop on the train. They waited in the line for what felt like hours until finally, they were up next.

“So... Mr. Lee, Ms. Y/n, and Mr... Mushy, is it?” The ticket woman asked with a suspicious look on her face as her eyes scanned their passports. In response, they all smiled at her politely.

Iroh, however, just had to correct her. “It’s pronounced Mushi.”

The woman fumed. Her nostrils flared and her eyes turned to slits.

“You telling me how to do my job?”

Iroh visibly panicked. He quickly made his way up to her desk. “Uh, no, no.” He cleared his throat. “But may I just say: you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating.”

Y/n let out a laugh, but disguised it as a cough when the ticket woman glared at her. The werewolf looked off to the side and saw that Zuko had a repulsed look on his face.

“You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome.” The woman winked at Iroh and let out a purr. Then, she stamped three tickets and handed them to the old man. “Welcome to Ba Sing Se!”

Iroh smiled at her and turned around, looking at the teens with a proud look on his face. Zuko, instead, snatched his ticket out of his uncle’s hand and stormed off, muttering how he never wanted to see that again.

‘Mushi’ handed Y/n her ticket as they followed his nephew.

“You know, I didn’t know you had that in you.” She smirked and bumped shoulders with him.

He held himself up and puffed out his chest. “I used to be quite the lady’s man when I was your age.”

They laughed together and caught up with Zuko. The boy was still a little upset about what he had seen, but was otherwise in a pretty good mood.

The trio had to wait a couple minutes for the train to come; the teens sitting on both sides of Iroh. They sat in silence, with Y/n starting up her people-watching hobby again. She looked over to her left and saw Jet walk up to them once again.

“So,” He started, “you guys got plans once you're inside the city?”

Y/n was going to answer him, saying something about how she was dying to eat some food, when a screaming man passed by them with a cart.

“Get your hot tea here! Finest tea in Ba Sing Se!” The man yelled.

Iroh waved his hand excitedly at the cart. “Ooh! Jasmine, please!”

The tea man brought his cart over and poured his drink into Iroh’s and, after asking, Y/n’s leaf cups. The uncle paid for their drinks and smelled it happily. Y/n took the first sip, but swallowed it quickly with an ‘ew.’ Iroh looked at her curiously, then took a sip from his.

“Ugh!” He spit it out dramatically. “Coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!”

“I know right.” The werewolf replied with a scrunched up face.

While they insulted their cups of tea, Jet and Zuko left to go talk privately. It’s probably because of how loud they were being.

“Can’t you just like,” She made movements with her free hand. “Heat this up?”

Iroh looked at her like she made the greatest epiphany. “You’re right!”

Y/n couldn’t see any flames emitting from his palms, but soon enough, steam began to slither out the top of the cup.

The girl’s eyes widened in excitement. “Do mine!”

They switched cups and she watched as the same procedure occurred to her tea. He handed it to her and they both took a sip happily. Zuko came back, but they weren’t really concerned with what he left to talk about.

Suddenly, though, Zuko’s hand stuck out and slapped the cup out of his uncle’s hands. Iroh’s arm, not being prepared for the movements, flew back and hit Y/n’s cup as well. Two cups laid on the floor, their contents spread around them.

“Hey!” Iroh and Y/n yelled out at the same time.

Angrily, Zuko looked at them and whispered. “What are you doing firebending your tea? For a wise, old man, that was a pretty stupid move!”

Y/n almost went off on the boy, but, after seeing the calm and mournful expression on Iroh’s face, calmed herself down as to not get into another argument.

“I know you’re not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but it’s just so sad.” The uncle sniffled with his eyes trained on the floor.

She almost felt bad for him, but decided not to bud into their family drama. Instead, she expressed her confusion on Zuko’s phrases.

“What’s so wrong with firebending, huh?” She huffed and crossed her arms.

Y/n didn’t really mean anything by her question, she kind of asked it jokingly, but Zuko scoffed and rolled his eyes. Was there really something wrong with it?

She looked out at Iroh questioningly, but he just smiled and waved his hand to dismiss her. Maybe it’s a prince thing? I really don’t know.

Before she could question it further, the train came down the railways, but it was being pushed by... people? Were they earthbenders?

Could I learn to do that?

Zuko ushered the two of them up and over to an empty part of the train. They entered it and took a seat, Y/n in the middle of them.

“What a handsome baby,” Iroh smiled at the family next to him. Y/n bent to look at the baby and awed at the sight. This was the first human baby she’s seen!

Suddenly, they started moving and Y/n looked around as they were surrounded in darkness. She almost panicked, but after seeing that no one else was scared, she calmed down.

Then, light burst through the windows.

The werewolf’s eyes widened as she took in the sight around her. There were blocks of plants racing past them, possibly farming areas. Everything was just so spacious, the only time she had seen something so empty was in the Wu Shong Desert, the only difference here being the lush greenery. She stood up from her seat and turned to look out the window behind her.

“Zuko! Look!” Y/n grasped onto his shoulder to make him see an animal, something huge that she’d never seen before, only to have him pull her back to her seat abruptly.

“Sit down, you’re being weird.” He looked around cautiously. “And if we’re in public, call me Lee.”

Y/n looked around as well and saw that a few people were looking at her; some of the adults smiling at her childish curiosity. She blushed and adjusted her skirt in her seat. Still, though, she tilted her head to see the passing views.

Maybe being in Ba Sing Se will be better than she thought...

___

and now we go to Ba Sing Se!! I was so excited to get here, I just wanted to get this out of the way oml

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Taglist: @bucky-blogs @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @oddlypointlessescapes @lozzybowe @woohoney @whalerus @cece-lives-here @bwndito @kiaoizz @lrmilikepie

#atla #lok #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you

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