#I hope she has it better wherever she is now... no pain and annoyance with staying alive despite not wanting to...

[moralchampion]

Can't believe my great grandma is just gone... and I didn't even actually get to say goodbye

[wildskissed]

"I want you safe ALWAYS," she told him firmly, shaking her head a little bit.

His words made her bristle a little bit, but only because it was quite clear to her that he could get eaten and maybe she wouldn't care. Sure, he was probably just teasing because he was in pain, but she frowned a little bit because she didn't want him to think she'd just let a panther carry him off. At the same time, he seemed so excited to have potentially met Guenhwyvar that she didn't want to take that away from him. Especially right now when she needed to heal him up, and he was being animated enough that it meant he was already on the mend.

"The panther..." Eve mused, letting her fingertips tingle a little with a healing spell for his neck. "You would think wherever Guenhwyvar goes, he goes..." she started, but she didn't exactly want him to get his hopes up that Drizzt was here when he wasn't. At the same time, the insinuation that she'd prefer he was eaten was still lingering so perhaps she was going to do just that. "He'd be pretty pleased to hear that you held your own--why else would he let the panther cart you back?"

Okay, a part of her felt a little bad, but as she healed him up, maybe the idea that he actually thought she just tolerated him kind of hurt. If he thought that, then he couldn't possible do more than just tolerate her, could he? Such games had perhaps once felt beneath her, but he was having a vulnerable moment and still couldn't seem to make her feel like she knew how he actually perceived her other than an ANNOYANCE sometimes.

"You know," Eve mused, avoiding Birvor's eyes for a moment, "Drizzt has a thing for redheads. Especially ones with minds of their own..." Eve told him, smiling a little bit. She didn't hold a lot of hope that that would annoy him, but even just the smallest amount of potential jealousy stirring within him would make her feel better. By now he had to actually know how she felt, right? Or did she have to spell it out more plainly for him? Then again, it wasn't just about how SHE felt--it was about how Birvor actually felt too. "I'd probably stand a chance..."

@wildskissed cont.

While the beast's head was far larger than Scratch's, Birvor still managed to clasp the jawline with some semblance of familiarity. Of course, big, drooly mouths that were primed to pick and choose portions of his face to munch on was a far cry from that of one that simply left a rubber ball coated in slime before leaving the unfortunate combo inside one's bedroll to find later stuck to one's thigh. Granted, the hasty hold didn't surge with the usual fervor he could muster in the heat of battle, but perhaps that was for the best because when he actually got a good look at what had dragged him back to camp, he felt the same sort of cowed amazement stirring within his chest that also afflicted him the first time he'd heard of some legendary dragon that supposedly slept under Baldur's Gate.

A black panther was not something one just came across- though he supposed it had come across him moreso, which made the odds even...well, odder. He almost couldn't believe it- but the scalding heat of the big cat's tongue giving his cheek a lap so proper it rightly knocked his attempt to sit up and regard the surreal encounter back down again onto his bedroll. Further disoriented by the affectionate jarring, he made an attempt to follow the panther with his eyes as a hand reached up to rub at the light and lasting tingle the thing's sandpapery tongue had left behind. The panther's next words (if they could be referred to as such without a mouth mulling them over) were the catalyst he needed to croak out a hoarse attempt at words. "-Wait... that means you-... you're-?" But before he could confirm his stunned suspicions, the panther turned and left him just as soon as it had seemingly found him face down in the grave dirt.

When Eve came into the tent, he was still trying to wrap whatever bit of oxygen he'd recovered in his head around the fact he probably just spoke with the actual Drizzt Du'Orden's faithful familiar. He almost didn't notice her at first, heady with the dedication aimed towards delusions, but her flippant remark drew his head sideways on the bedroll, and the cooling of the shadow cursed air convinced him to leave his throat and it's bruising brand exposed for lack of a better way to cool the stinging. Though all he earned for the self-soothing attempt was the sting of the wet rag pressed to the garrote's indention.

He opened his mouth to return the remark back at her with his own portion of pettiness to share, but he ended up coughing on a dry throat and so he had to settle for taking the cup she offered and throwing back a messy gulp or two of the water before he could properly give her a piece of his mind...just with his mouth this go 'round. "Can tell you're real dissapoin'td over that. Good." Huff issued, he waited for the first drink to settle in his stomach before trying to coax the last few drops puddled at the bottom of the glass out with a sturdy shake that only served to wet his tusks. Still on the hoarse side, he couldn't wait for more water to launch into the next order of business- namely the restless sort of stirring an ill and bed-bound child would resort to, especially when she kept dabbing away at his throat like said child's mother with spit and handkerchief.

"That wasn't no ord'nary panther-" He insisted, issuing her a pouty sort of complaint- both at her not realizing that, and for her fussing overhead while he couldn't get away from her proper. "That was THE panther. That was Guenhwyvrkkk-" Well, there went all the moisture in his throat again, leaving him hacky and voiceless and projecting once more. [Those damnable Meazles-]

[babyboiboyega]

Enough (Shangqi x f!reader)

Shangqi x f!reader

Content: a little bit of angst, fluff at the end, Shangqi being such a damn sweetheart

Word Count: 1.3k

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

*********

Y/N’s movements were a little slower than usual as she dodged, kicked, and punched, and it was obvious, especially to her. It was obvious, and it frustrated her to no end as she continued to move around the mat. 

The slight throbbing in her temple she had woken up with had only gotten worse as the day went on, and it continued to do so the more she exerted herself. 

She tried to hide the pain behind a grimace, but under the guise of being focused, but she had a slight suspicion that he could see right through her. This only prompted her to intensify her actions, trying to come off as fine when in reality, the pressure in her head was close to debilitating. 

She knew that she should have stopped and told him what was wrong, but the stubborn, reckless side of her won out. And that was exactly what she was doing: being incredibly reckless. 

A grunt left her mouth as she was pushed back, her feet stumbling over each other.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you tonight? You’re a little slower than usual.”

Shangqi’s voice rang out, a teasing lilt to it as he gazed at her with his hands on his hips. His eyebrows were furrowed in genuine worry as she bent at the waist, bracing herself against her knees. 

With every breath she took came another painful throb in her temple, and even with her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel her head spinning. 

Hearing her labored breaths and noticing her silence, Shangqi walked closer, the small smile on his face dropping.

“Hey, what’s wrong? We can take a break. We should take a break.”

At his words, Y/N shook her head slowly before straightening. The wince that she tried to hide did not go unnoticed. 

“I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Shangqi’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed slightly, this time with suspicion. 

“Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with taking a break. Maybe get a sip of water-”

“I’m fine, Shangqi, okay? I’m...I’m good.”

The conviction in her voice was enough for him to slowly nod his head before taking stance. His eyes watched her carefully as she did the same, and once he was satisfied that she was ready, he resumed their dance around each other.

He threw easily avoidable hits while still watching the way she reacted. Her eyebrows were pinched in concentration as she blocked his hits, her feet moving in the way he had taught her. 

For a brief moment, she felt pride and forgot about the pain that gripped her head. All of the sparring lessons were culminating into something she was proud of. 

But then Shangqi had to throw a punch while simultaneously going for her exposed bottom half. 

She had managed to block the hit, but she had been too oblivious of her open leg area.

Y/N felt herself falling and managed to right her foot enough to where her impact with the mat was more controlled. An almost embarrassing “oof” fell from her lips as she quite literally landed on her ass.  

It only took a few seconds for Shangqi to approach her, his hand held out to help her up. 

“We’re taking a break. I’ll go get your water.”

The finality of his words paired with her own frustration resulted in a pang of anger quickly running through her. 

She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up quickly, her mouth forming words of insistence that only dissipated as black spots crowded her vision. 

She rapidly blinked her eyes, but only seemed to make it worse. The pain in her head had decided to make itself known once again, and it came with a vengeance. 

This time, she couldn’t stop the small groan from escaping her mouth as her hand raised and gripped her head. 

The pain was unbearable now, akin to having one’s head slammed into a metal pole without the relief of eventually passing out. She could feel the throbbing at the base of her neck, and the pain had started to make her stomach churn. 

She should have listened to him. She should have stopped earlier.

Y/N hadn’t realized that she was swaying, leaning a little too far in one direction, until she felt soft, calloused hands land on her arms. 

“Y/N...Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on?”

As she spoke, Shangqi gently guided her down until she was safely kneeling on the floor, no longer swaying on her feet. He wasted no time in kneeling in front of her, his hands moving to cup her face.

“Come on, take deep breaths. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Y/N spoke quietly and through clenched teeth, her hand continuing to put pressure against her temple.

“Migraine.”

The sigh that left Shangqi’s mouth was sympathetic as he rubbed her cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against her forehead before slowly rising and bringing her with him.

He had no trouble supporting her weight as he led her in the direction of his room, leaving the open space behind them.

In reality, it had only taken a minute or so to get to Shangqi’s room, but every step had felt like 10 to Y/N. She was acutely aware of Shangqi turning off every light as they walked, and if she weren’t so busy making sure her lunch stayed down, she would have expressed her love and gratitude for his actions. 

She simply let Shangqi guide her to wherever she needed to go, knowing and trusting without a doubt that he would take care of her. 

He only proceeded to prove her right as he wasted no time in walking her towards his bed and gently lowering her onto it. As soon as she was situated, he quietly walked around the bed and turned off every remaining light, the tv, and even closed the blinds.

In only a span of a few seconds, he had grabbed a glass of water and the medicine she had left at his place for a situation exactly like this. 

“Y/N, here’s your medicine. Come on, babe. I just need you to take this real quick.”

With an agonized groan and her eyes still tightly shut, Y/N slowly sat up. Her hands blindly reached out, prompting Shangqi to drop her pill into her hand followed by the glass of water. She took the medicine quickly and without hesitation, before holding it out once more. 

Shangqi’s hands shot out, one grabbing the glass while the other gently landed on her back, keeping her from laying back down.

A noise between a soft cry and a groan left Y/N’s mouth at being stopped, but the slight annoyance she had quickly dissipated as Shangqi gently crawled into bed in front of her. 

All while whispering apologies to her, he maneuvered their bodies to where they could lay down with Y/N completely covering his body with her own. 

There had been a question on the tip of her tongue as he had moved them, but it all made sense when his hands raised and started massaging her temples, gingerly but with enough pressure to ease the pain. 

She felt his lips touch her hair, and it made a lone tear slip from her tear line. The tears that formed as a result of pain only fell as a result of being cared and loved for.

But Shangqi had interpreted the new tear stain on his shirt as one of pain. He spoke softly with his lips pressed to her head. 

“I know. I know, I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

His words made her arms tighten where they were wound around his torso. As she spoke, more tears fell from her eyes.

“You do more than enough, Shangqi. You’re more than enough.”

********

I hope you all enjoyed this! Like I said, this is a comfort fic that I really wrote for myself, but decided to post it here! I do deal with chronic migraines, and with every migraine comes a great disdain for everyone in the immediate vicinity....but I just KNOW that Shangqi would do anything to help me feel better, so I wanted to write it!

This week has been reaaaalllyy tough so far between work, class, and personal issues, so that’s another reason why this is a comfort fic, it helped me escape life while I was writing. 

But once again, I hope you all enjoyed this! Please like, reblog, and/or leave a comment. Literally whenever someone leaves a comment, it makes my day!

OH! I’m also thinking about making a tag list! 👀👀

Stay safe, y’all!

[violettelueur]

GOJO SATORU || SWEET TASTE OF CHOCOLATE

| featuring : gojo satoru ft. itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 2243

| published : 19 december

| request : hiii! i love your works sm 🥺 may i request for gojo x reader (can be headcannon or oneshot, your choice!) where reader is also a jujutsu sorcerer and teaching in kyoto? they act like they hate each other's guts but deep down they really like each other 😂 then when reader visits the school in tokyo gojo and reader were already arguing and teasing each other, the students can't help but think they're together but nAh then they help gojo confess to reader? feel free to ignore if u can't write this,thank youuu! ❤️

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ my day today hasn’t really been the most active at all to be completely honest with you, that lovely time of the month has arrived and i couldn’t help myself but sleep through the pain  ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but moving on from that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Gojo sensei, why don’t you just confess to L/N-sensei already?” Itadori curiously asked, causing the white-haired teacher to lift up his blindfold to look up at his first-year students, who were all standing around him on his chair, with a somewhat confused expression.

“Yuji-kun, what are you talking about? Confess? Ha?” Gojo asked in confusion, wondering why his student was asking such a weird question as well as wondering how Itadori knew about his feelings towards you.

“Sensei, it’s so obvious that you like L/N-sensei! There is no denying that fact,” Kugisaki shouted in frustration, annoyed at the fact how her teacher was so ignorant to the fact that it was clear as day that his infatuation towards you was just painful evident.

“Ah~ you guys caught me~” Gojo teasingly admitted with his hands stuffed into his pocket, before smiling up at the three students that were staring at him with dumbfounded faces.

“WAIT SO YOU KNEW YOU HAD FEELINGS?” Both Itadori and Kugisaki yelled in anger, causing Fushiguro to give both them as well as his teacher a glare of annoyance due to their loudness.

                                              ꕥ

“Fushiguro, who is that?” Kugisaki quietly asked as she pointed towards someone that was walking towards the first-years and Gojo with Principle Yaga right beside them, discussing something that seemed extremely important between both the adults.

“That’s L/N-sensei, she teaches at the Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College but from time to time, she does come over to this school to teach us as well,” Fushiguro explained, as he watches you finally stop right in front of them with a small smile on your face.

“So, these are the two new first-years you were talking about,” you commented to Principal Yaga before introducing yourself towards the three. “My name is L/N Y/N, and you all will be seeing me here from time to time since I’ll be helping you all, but you already know me Megumi,” you stated before gently patting the young boy’s head, causing Fushiguro to smile kindly at you.

“Ah~ isn’t it little Y/N? Have you gotten shorter over the past few months that I haven’t seen you?” Gojo then asked in a playful tone as he placed his giant hand on the top of your head, causing a sudden wave of irritation to hit you once you heard the shaman’s voice. “Well, well, well isn’t it dumbass Satoru? Are you still salty at the fact that I beat you in our last match?” you asked mischievous tone as you then violently pinched his right cheek before pulling it as much as you could.

“Are they dating?” Itadori then asked his friend, only to receive a simple ‘no’ as a response from Fushiguro, causing all three of them to continue watching the mess that was unfolding right in front of them.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch,” Gojo painfully panicked, before you suddenly let go of his face leaving an extremely bright ruby red mark on his face where your fingers were. “That hurts Y/N, who is going to even date you with your abusive antics?” Gojo mocked, causing you to instantly reply with “definitely not you, idiot Satoru,” you quickly answered back leading to the powerful shaman to express a blank expression his face before instantly replacing it with a cheeky smile to cover up what he was feeling - yet, even with that split second change, Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki all notice this and began to wonder the same thing.

‘Does Gojo-sensei like L/N-sensei?’

                                               ꕥ

“You should really confess to her,” Kugisaki suggested to her teacher, causing both Fushiguro and Itadori to nod in agreement - most likely to not be a victim to her wrath if they had disagreed with the female student.

“Maybe you should give her flowers? Or maybe some chocolate since L/N-sensei really like sweets,” Fushiguro commented, causing everyone to look at him with confused expressions on their faces.

“How did you know L/N-sensei loves sweets?” Itadori asked in a perplexed expression, as he wondered by Fushiguro would know such a random fact about you, causing his classmate to sign in frustration before explaining with, “when I was younger, she would always have a few small snacks in her pockets and would offer me some when I was upset or after picking me up from school,”.

“Awww that is so cute Fushiguro, L/N-sensei was basically your other parent,” Kugisaki commented with her hands hold her cheeks while squealing as she imagined the little image of you crouching down and giving a mini Fushiguro a chocolate chip cookie.

“Sensei, listen to Fushiguro and get a box of chocolates! The expensive kind as well because good food is anyone’s best friend,” Kugisaki ranted, as she was getting excited to set this couple up like she was cupid with the arrow - well...more like the nails and hammer.

“Or just get L/N-sensei’s favourite, which is…” Itadori added into the conversation before turning to his shikigami user friend, waiting for him to complete his sentence. Fushiguro turned to look at Itadori before quickly answering, “Meiji Milk Chocolate,”

“That’s quite a cheap chocolate,” Itadori then commented before Kugisaki quickly commanded, “it doesn't matter! Gojo-sensei, you need to go and buy that chocolate as soon as possible since L/N-sensei is coming to teach us today, so better hurry it up!” leading to the special grade shaman to sigh loudly as he quickly standing up from his seat to on his own two feet before making his way out of the room, quickly waving his arm out to all three of his students as a simple ‘see you later’

                                              ꕥ

After an extremely quick run to the closest convenience store, there was no surprised that Mr Gojo “I like eating sweets as well” Satoru came back with a small white bag with the store logo filled with masses of different types of sweets and chocolates nearly overflowing to the top, making any sweet-tooth child that saw this exceedingly jealous at the adult.

Walking around the grounds of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, Gojo was in search of both you and his three students, wondering where all four of you could have gone since he was very certain that there were no missions needed to be completed by anyone from what he was informed. 

However, there was a sudden sound of laughter coming from his left side causing the shaman to quickly turn in that direction and from the sounds of it, it was definitely Kugisaki laughing her ass off at something right now at this current moment in time. Turning his feet, Gojo steadily made his way towards the direction of the sound, hoping that he would find you and the rest there on wherever his feet would guide him.

After finding his way, Gojo had unexpectedly come to the amusing sight of both Fushiguro and Kugisaki - who was still laughing her ass off - sitting on the stairs that were leading to the track field of the school, with you casually standing with your hand in your pocket as Itadori was face planted on the ground from what he assumed was from your beating in your react combat training match.

“I can’t lie Yuji, you’re definitely stronger than I had imagined, if you are able to somehow combine both your physical strength with your curse energy equally, you would be able to beat Todo in no time,” you commented, as you stretched your arms to realise some of the tension that had gained from the little practice match you had with the salmon-haired student.

“Are you sure about that sensei?” Itadori excitedly asked as he quickly lifted his head up from the ground, causing you to gently smile at the young boy before nodding at his question. Leisurely, you turned your head towards the other students to ask whose turn it was until you suddenly saw an exceptionally tall figure standing behind the seated Fushiguro and Kugisaki.

“I guess class has to be dismissed for you,” you quietly mentioned to all the three students causing them to then look at the direction you were glancing at, only to find their playful teacher waving at them with a bright smile on his face.

“Yo~ it seemed like all of you had taken a beating, especially you Yuji,” Gojo stated, causing the Itadori to look away with a tired expression before steadily getting up from the ground. “Also, you all can head back into your dorms to freshen up from your training session since I need to have a chat with L/N-sensei. Class dismissed,” Gojo suddenly announced, leading all the first-years to look confused before seemingly realising what their teacher was going to do once they caught the slight of the small white bag that was in his hands.

Quickly making their way up the stairs, Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki all gave you a wave ‘goodbye’ before making their way back to their rooms, making you and Gojo the only people that were in the area right now.

“What is it that you want, idiot?” you asked, before making your way towards him with a tired expression painted on your face before positioning yourself on the stairs where Kugisaki was previously seated, leading to the white-haired shaman to take a seat next to you - where Fushiguro was previously. 

Suddenly, you unexpectedly heard a loud sound of something ruffling causing you to turn your head, only to now discover the small white back that your Tokyo rival was carrying to then also quickly detect that it was filled with chocolates and sweets leading to a cute little shine in your eyes to which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired man.

“You looking at something sweetie~?” Gojo teasingly asked, causing you to look up at him before quickly turning your head away to the opposite direction, embarrassed that he had caught you peeking at his little snack bag. Although, a few seconds later, you suddenly saw two rectangular boxes that were in both brown and white colour appear in front of your face leaving you in a confused state before hearing “I thought you would want something sweet after teaching my students, like a thank you gift I suppose,”

Hesitantly, you grabbed the two packages before slowly turning back your head to look at your jujutsu sorcerer colleague to see what he was resting his chin on the palm of his hand, somewhat covering the lower half that wasn’t covered but no enough for you to not see the pink hues that were slowly appearing on his face.

Deciding to not ruin the moment, you peered down at the chocolate that Gojo had given you to only suddenly find that he had brought your favourite kind, Meiji Chocolate but he had also added the white chocolate version for you to which put a gentle smile upon your face.

“Oh~ are you liking my gifts?” Gojo playfully asked you as he peered upon your face causing you to look at him with an irritated look. “Way to ruin the moment, you fool,” you then stated before carefully opening the box as you then slid out the foiled covered chocolate before processing to remove the shiny wrapping, only to be presented with the smoothest looking bar of chocolate you have ever laid eyes on. 

Admiring the sweet treat for a few seconds, you began to break the top row of cubes because handing it towards the shaman that was still looking at you. “Here and thank you for the chocolate, I really appreciate it,” you quietly said to Gojo, leading to the shaman to look at you with a shocked face - since you rarely thanked him for simple things like this - before using taking a bite of the chocolate that was still in your hands causing you to blush extremely from his actions. 

“HEY! At least take the chocolate from my hands and not eat it while I’m holding it, you snow idiot!” you shouted at him before feeling something being gently pressed upon your lips while a hint of sweet milk chocolate could be tasted.

Instantly dropping the chocolate bar on your lap, you slowly raised your hands and gently placed them upon Gojo’s cheeks, keeping him still as you wanted to savour this moment a little longer with him. Just a little longer. 

The taste of chocolate was sweetly addictive and there was nothing that could make you want to pull away. You were just plainly addicted. 

Slowly, you moved one of your hands to place it behind his head while placing the other arm over his shoulder. You just needed him close to you. You were willing to let him take your last breath if that meant you get to taste the sweetness that was being shared between the both of you right now.

Unwillingly, you felt yourself and him begin to pull away due to the lack of air, leaving both you and Gojo with heavy breaths. However, before Gojo could ever get a word in between the silence that was surrounding the both of you, he suddenly felt you pull his head back towards you only to feel your lips upon his in a desperate state, letting him off with no choice but to enjoy the feeling on unconditional love that was evolving between both you and him.

As well as the sweet taste of chocolate.

[kuroos-moon]

Jealous Fuck Buddy Kiyoomi

☀︎︎ Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

☀︎︎ Alternate prompt: Jealous Fuck Buddy Satori

☀︎︎ Wc: 3.8 k words

☀︎︎ Genre: smut with fluff at the end 

☀︎︎ Warnings: nsfw, public sex, degradation, oral (f receiving), bit of angst

Both of your pants and shaky breaths fill his bedroom after having chased each other’s high. It was early in the morning, an hour before practice starts and you gently run your fingers through his dark curls which were slightly moist with his sweat. He rests on top of you, recovering his breath as he litters sloppy kisses on your neck, adoring you for how good you take him in, you always do. 

You were in a no strings attached relationship, yes it was untypical of Sakusa to have such a relationship with you but he knew you were clean. He eyed you head to toe the moment you were introduced as their new manager and he likes how you sanitized your hands regularly and wore a mask, but more than that, he loves your personality. 

He knew he was in love with you from the moment you scolded Bokuto for touching his things, telling him “to respect Sakusa’s germaphobe tendencies,” but somehow you were always sweet to everyone, as much as he wanted you to be more than just a fuck buddy, he couldn’t risk your rejection, so he forced himself to be content with it, at least he knew you weren’t fucking other guys, right? 

“Oomi, we still have practice to attend to,” you mumble as you kiss the top of his head and he lazily pushes himself off you. “Was I too rough?” He asks, his voice filled with concern when you wince as you were about to get up. “Rougher than usual I’d say,” you chuckle as you cup his face in your hand and give him a small peck on the cheek. 

It devastated you that you were mere fuck buddies, every single day, you’d fall deeper for him. He was always caring with you wherever you both were; may it be inside the walls of his bedroom after he just mercilessly pounded into you or while you were hanging out as his team’s manager. 

He stood naked before you as you sat at the edge of his bed, eyeing the masterpiece called Sakusa Kiyoomi. He was ripped in all aspects, and you blush as you remember what miracles his big member made you experience, how his fingers so skillfully made you moan his name, made you beg for more of him. 

“Like what you see?” He smugly asks as he stares down at you and you merely click your tongue in mock annoyance, “as if,” you deny, making him roll his eyes. It sums up your whole dynamic, you’d whisper the most loving things to each other as you satisfy each other’s needs, but after that, your conversations were a non-stop teasing and denying how you love fucking each other. 

“Come on, I’ll clean you up,” he says, holding out his hand for you to take and you look at him in surprise. He has never asked you to take a shower with him before. “What? Too painful to stand?” He asks, and you swear you hear slight irritation in his voice when you don’t take his hand. 

Without waiting for you to say anything, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other behind your back as he carries you to his bathroom, making you slap his chest. “At least warn me before hoisting me up,” you hiss at him and for the nth time that morning, he rolls his eyes at you. 

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

They were on break, and Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu were sat on the floor as he stood a foot away from them and near the wall. He follows your figure as you make your way over and sit beside Atsumu, his eyes narrowing. He always noticed how the both of you were particularly close, closer than everyone else in the team- even your fans notice, they always had some silly conspiracy that you were going out with Atsumu. 

As mature as he was to simply ignore such rumors, he couldn’t help but get easily irked at every interaction you make with the flirtatious blonde. 

“Y/n why couldn’t you go out with me last night?” Atsumu asks you with a pout, “I wasn’t feeling well, I told you,” you lie and Sakusa raises a brow at you in an ‘are you kidding me?’ manner. Why do you even have plans with him at night? And what kind of excuse was that? Not feeling well? From what he recalls, he made you feel too well last night as he made you cum again and again, on his face, in his mouth and on his fat cock as he filled you up. 

“Y/n you didn’t tell me you’re on the dating phase with Tsumu already!” Bokuto whines, and Sakusa had to hold back a scoff. “We’re not,” you say with a laugh, “We’re not? Was it all nothing to you babe?” Atsumu asks you in fake hurt, everyone knew it was a joke but Kiyoomi just wanted to kick the back of his head in annoyance. 

“Of course we aren’t,” you pinch his cheek, “that was a one night thing, babe,” you tease and everyone, including you, froze at what you said; more importantly, Sakusa felt a wave of sudden irritation, jealousy and betrayal all at once as he processed what you said, and judging from how you reacted after you let that slip, your words were true. So you’ve already fucked Atsumu, he thought as he inhales a sharp breath, trying to calm himself down. 

“WHAT Y/N WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Hinata exclaims as you bury your face in your hands, scolding yourself for your stupidity while Atsumu just chuckles at you with a smug look on his face. “ATSUMU WHAT DOES SHE MEAN?” Bokuto asks and you groan because you know they won’t let this go; and catching the look on Sakusa’s eyes, you were actually afraid he was gonna end whatever you guys have. 

“We fucked,” Atsumu shrugs and you slap his shoulder, your eyes narrowing at him and he just smirks as he looks at you. “I wouldn’t say it was a one time thing y/n,” he teases. “We did it a lot of times, didn’t we? Until the sun came up,” he chuckles at how red you were. Frustrated at him, you march off with a huff, going inside the locker room. 

Sakusa took this as his chance to talk to you but he stops in his tracks when Atsumu follows you inside. He could practically feel his eye twitch as his patience for the blonde ran out. Not caring anymore if anyone finds out about your little arrangement, he also enters the locker room, and he swears that a nerve within him snaps at such an annoyingly filthy sight before him. 

“You’re not so smug now, are you babe?” you slur at Atsumu who was seated at the bench, his arms around your waist as you sit on his lap, teasing him with how close your lips were. You shift your eyes to Kiyoomi who had just entered the room, and you immediately pull away from Atsumu. 

Not that you were both exclusive to each other, you just somehow don’t want him to think you like someone else. “Wow, I’m really sorry to interrupt,” Sakusa says in a low voice as he looks coldly at you, half of his face covered with a mask. 

“Uh- n-no, you weren’t interrupting anything,” you nervously say and he merely narrows his eyes at you before leaving the locker room. You felt chills run down your spine, he was absolutely terrifying and cold, something you never expected him to be when it came to you. “What’s his deal?” the oblivious blonde asks you and you just groan. 

“Oomi,” you call as you follow him outside and the other players just look at the both of you. He ignores your attempts to get his attention as he walks away, he was just so pissed at you, the image of you in another’s arms, your lips that close, “Kiyoomi,” you say again as you finally caught his wrist. 

“Don’t touch me,” he glares, making you shiver. He was scary, even the others who watched you two didn’t want to be at the receiving end of such a hostile glare. “No, why are you mad? Don’t be mad,” you say, holding his hand with both of yours just incase he’ll want to pull away. 

“I said don’t touch me with those filthy hands,” he says in a calm voice as he pulls his hand away from you. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!” You shout at him in frustration. “If you’re mad about something, you better tell me, stop acting so-” you yelp when he hoists you up over his shoulder. 

“Oomi, what the fuck, put me down,” you slap his back but he ignores you. Without saying a word, he carries you inside the now filled locker room, and the boys look at you in surprise. Putting you down, you glare at his sudden actions and he simply gives you a side glance before he makes his way to his locker. 

Grabbing a towel and some change of clothes, he makes his way back in front of the team and beside you. “No one better enter the shower,” he glares at all of them with a serious face. "bUT wHyyyY?” Atsumu whines and Sakusa sharply looks at him with narrowed eyes. “I need a good fuck, that’s why,” he deadpans before he drags you to the showers, with you looking down in embarrassment at Sakusa’s words as the players fell silent, surprised and confused by his behavior.

He pushes you to the wall, placing his hand momentarily behind your back so it wouldn’t hurt you. The shower was running, with water trickling down his back as he hungrily kisses your lips, not caring if he made them swell as he sucks on your bottom lip, biting on it as he slightly pulls away before he meets your lips again, shoving in his tongue, hoping you’d know how much it hurt him to see you that close with someone else. 

A hand tightly grips you waist as the other cups your cheek, pulling you closer and not giving you a chance to catch your breath as he kisses you. His kisses slowly leave your lips, traveling towards your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses there before you tilt your head to grant him access to your neck, arousal built up inside you as you press your thighs together. 

“Oomii, ah,” you moan, the dark-haired boy ruthlessly sucking on your neck as if he wants to mark you as his. His hands trace the sides of your stomach before he moves them up your breasts, wanting to touch every bit of you because they are his to touch. 

Your moans were driving him insane and he wanted to shove his throbbing cock inside you, but you simply needed to be punished first. He gives you a short kiss on the lips before he pulls away from you, the icy look in his eyes were back. He pulls your arms which were gripping his shoulders away from him, “you think you deserve to touch me?” He asks, the dark look never leaving his eyes and with the way he was being, you can’t help but feel more turned on. He was mad about Atsumu, he was jealous, and his reaction made you somewhat pleased. 

“You’re jealous Oomi,” you tease him, pulling your arms away from his hold as you cup his cheeks with both your hands. “You’re a filthy little slut aren’t you?” He hums as he leans into your touch, closing his eyes, before he opens them to look at you again, now filled with lust. “Don’t you dare touch me unless I tell you to,” he commands as he sank down on his knees, one hand gripping both your wrists behind you tightly. 

You shiver as he kisses your lower stomach, slowly going south, looking up at you as you anticipated for his mouth to be where you needed it most, making him scoff at you. He hooks your left leg up his shoulder, exposing him to your wet and needy cunt, clenching around nothing. He kisses your inner thigh, sucking gently on your skin, placing his tongue anywhere but there. 

“Oomii, ah, please,” you beg, as you resist his hold on your wrists, wanting to touch his hair and guide him to where he should be. “Please what? He asks, pretending to be oblivious to your needs, continuing to harass your skin with his mouth, making you whine again. He blows lightly on your cunt, making you let out another moan. “Please what?” He repeats, looking up at you as you try to catch your breath while you look at him, down on his knees, your leg over his shoulder- he was too painfully close to your cunt, you wanted him to eat you out so badly. 

“Fuck me, please, make me cum,” you beg him and he raises a brow at you. “Wouldn’t you rather have Atsumu do it love?” He taunts and as you were about to complain about how he was being a dick, he rubs his thumb over your clit and he enjoyed how you tensed as you raise your head in pleasure. “Look at me y/n,” he commands and you do so. “Let me see when I ruin you without even having me inside,” the side of his lips slightly tugs upward in a smile that didn’t mean any good. 

He shoves a finger inside of you, his eyes never leaving your face as you moaned and begged for more before he inserts another finger in, thrusting in and out inside of you at a slow pace, shoving them knuckles-deep inside, slightly curling them against you tight walls, before he pulls them out, sucking on his fingers to taste your juice. 

“So wet for me,” he mutters before he finally brings his lips to your cunt, sucking gently on your folds before he slowly and teasingly slides his tongue from your entrance and up your clit, “Fuck, Oomi,” you moan, your arms still trying to resist his hold which only encouraged him to tighten his grip, forgetting the fact that he might bruise you. 

His tongue skillfully flicks at your clit, rubbing his wet muscle against it, the friction making the knot in your lower abdomen tighten as you can’t seem to stop yourself from moaning his name like it’s the only name you know. He knew you were close, so he doesn’t stop, instead he shoves his fingers knuckles-deep back inside of you, thrusting in and out, matching the pace of his tongue which circled your clit. 

“Oomi, nggh, baby, fuck, ah I- I’m about to,” and he simply hums in approval, his dick twitching at the pretty sounds you make. He takes away his fingers, replacing your inside with his tongue, his thumb rubbing against your clit instead. He always likes to taste you, you were simply so addicting and he will never get enough. “Oomi,” you gasp, letting out a shaky breath, the pleasure overwhelming you with his tongue eating you out like that, with one last cry of his name, you finally cum on him. 

Your knees were weak as you catch your breath as you panted heavily while Sakusa was busying himself with slurping your cum in his mouth. He gently places your leg back down from his shoulder before he stands on his full height, towering over you. Sakusa wraps an arm around you waist, the other still tightly holding your wrists together behind your back as he kisses you hungrily. 

He rests his forehead against yours and looks at you when you pull away, “let go of my arms I wanna touch you,” you say with a pout. He does as you say and you instantly wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his and shoving your tongue in his mouth as you run your fingers through his damp curls. 

He doesn’t break the kiss as he slightly lowers himself to place his arm below your ass, lifting you up before you wrap your legs around his waist. “Oomi you’re so hard for me,” you say in between pants as he sucks on you neck, his hard cock pressed at the bottom of your thigh. “I won’t be so gentle this time, y/n,” he groans as you take him in your hand, giving him a stroke. 

“but Oomi I’m still sore,” you say but you let out a loud wince when he readjusts you and enters his cock inside of you. With an arm wrapped around your waist and your back leaning on the wall, he slowly pulls out before slamming back into you, flooding your system with pain. Sakusa was never gentle, that’s why he gave you the best nights- sometimes mornings- of your life; but right now, he wasn’t being considerate at all. 

He pounds inside of you, occasional groans escaping his throat, getting lost at the feeling of your tight walls around him. Soon enough, you get used to the pain as you clench yourself around him, waves of pleasure dawning onto you with every thrust he makes, balls-deep inside of you. 

“So fucking tight,” he groans, the shower room filled with his silent and soft moans in contrast to your loud ones. You bite his shoulder as you remember that there are people outside who could hear you, but Sakusa didn’t take that too well. He wants them to hear you, he wants Atsumu to hear how good he’s fucking you. 

You let out another scream as he rolls his pelvis, roughly thrusting into you again as his fat cock presses against just the right spot, its veins against your wet walls. “Oomi, ah, please, they’re outside,” you pant, your chest aggressively rising and falling as he fucked you so good. “Do you even want me to stop?” He huskily whispers against your ear as you feel his sharp breaths. “Or do you really not want that filthy little runt to know how good I make you feel y/n, is that it?” He asks, his tone icy as he sped up his pace, leaving you a moaning mess as tears rolled down your cheeks- both of pain and pleasure. 

You couldn’t even form the right words, you were in such a bliss. “Does he fuck you better y/n? Do you scream louder for him?” He growls, his thrusts getting more aggressive as his need for more of you gets mixed up with the jealousy he felt. “N-no,” you moan, tugging at his hair as you feel your second orgasm near. “Only you Oomi, ah, only you, I swear fuck,” you hiss, locking your ankles together, “Oomi, I’m cumming, ah, Oomi, Oomi,” you repeatedly moan his name, “don’t cum without me,” he commands, wanting you to be at his mercy a little longer. He was really so pissed about having found out you’ve already fucked Atsumu, and to add to the flame, he even walks in on the both of you in that position. 

“You’re such a disloyal little slut you know that?” He says in your ear, his deadly voice only making you want to cum even more. “Why would you turn to someone else when I already fuck you this good,” he lets out another groan, as he feels himself about to cum into you as well. You choke out a sob, it was all too much, the painful pleasure, your sore muscles, it was too much to handle that your head was getting clouded. If he heard that sob sometime else when he wasn’t blinded by jealousy and anger, he would’ve been concerned. 

“It was before you Oomi, ah, before I- I even met you,” you answer him through your slight sobs and he felt somewhat guilty at that. “Cum for me, angel,” he sighs, pressing an apologetic kiss on your neck as he lets out a loud groan before he releases inside of you simultaneously as you cum. You both heavily pant, you’re back on your feet as you bury your face on his chest, leaning on him for support while he securely hugs you against him. 

The guilt of how rough he had been with you now catching up on him as he kisses the top of your head, he sighs as he strokes your hair, dragging you backwards with him so that the both of you could feel the cold water running from the shower. Pulling you away from him, he plants a small kiss on your lips, looking at your eyes for any sign of resentment for how he had been earlier. 

“I’m so sorry y/n, does it hurt?” He asks you, caressing your cheek. He had always been rough with you in the past but it was never without your approval, he would always listen to you if you were in pain and he’d be worried unlike a while ago. 

He frowns a bit when you don’t respond to him, so he continues on taking care of you. Washing your hair, cleaning your body, he gulps down in guilt as he sees the slight bruise that had formed in your wrist and how he has covered your neck with so many hickeys. He wouldn’t even blame you if you hated him. 

“Carry me Oomi,” you say with a pout, stretching out your arms to him. He was surprised, it was the first time you spoke to him again. You were both now dressed and dry, still inside the now empty locker room. He doesn’t say a word as he lifts you up in his arms bridal-style and you rest you head against his chest. 

“You could relax, I’m not mad at you,” you let out a breath of contentment, having been cradled in his arms. He still doesn’t say anything as he places you down the front seat of his car, crouching down and making sure you wouldn’t hit your head; you were clearly worn out, he had been fucking you last night, this morning and a while ago after all. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when you cup his cheek in your hand, his eyes meeting yours. “I love you Oomi, I really do,” you tell him and his eyes widen, his lips slightly part behind his mask as he waits for you to say something that would disappoint the hope he felt at your words. “And I think we should end whatever this is,” you sigh. “I’ll only love you more, you know? and I know you don’t-” 

“I love you too,” he blurts out, not wanting to hear your none-sense about how your love for him was one-sided, as he tugs down his mask and kisses your forehead. “I’ll take you home with me tonight, okay? I’ll take care of you, I’m sorry for being so rough,” he sighs. 

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

Stitches Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209​ @nova646 @pychedelic-rainbow

[issaxcharlie]

You are mine

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have many problems and commitments in their lives and instead of solving them they decide to blame the other. Eventually, the fights end their relationship. Luke travels with Sunset Curve during the summer and when he returns he has a pretty clear idea in his head. He wants his girl back.

But it's not as easy as it sounds when the competition had 3 months to score points with the cheerleader in his absence.

 Three months. Luke has gone three months without seeing Y/N. They have been inseparable since they met when they were 12 years old, never spending more than days without seeing each other. But the moment they broke up Luke knew he had to get out of the freaking town because if he couldn't distance himself he was going to end up the very next day at his ex-girlfriend's house begging her to accept him back. And the truth is that both needed to breathe and rethink what each one is looking for in their future.

Because although he’s head over heels in love with her, the truth is that both were in a moment of their lives in which they couldn’t and specially wanted to adapt to what the other needed. They had a lot of different responsabilities and things to do, it was just hard sometimes to add more to the list.

Which meant that she missed several of his concerts, that he was late for her birthday party, that there was no time for dates, that they didn’t feel supported. Many arguments trying to fix things that never came to anything because neither of them really wanted to commit. None willing to give in.

And then the painful but friendly breakup in early summer happened.

Bobby has a truck and the boys decided that doing a roadtrip during the summer performing wherever they could to earn enough to keep traveling was a brilliant idea to distract him and make the band known, and he agreed without looking back.

Things turned out much better than any of the four expected and they even had the luxury of traveling one more week, so they have a week of homework to catch up on. Will his relationship have ended on good enough terms to ask Y/N? Homework is not that big of a deal for him but it usually takes him a little longer to miss more than 15 assignments.

As soon as Luke opens the front door, his eyes fall straight on her. She is on her back trying to hang up some posters, but he would recognize that body wherever, from whatever angle.

His eyes immediately scan her wrist, which doesn't have any of the couple matching black-and-white bracelets they both used to wear all the time.

The first of many reminders Luke would get that day about his breakup with the cheerleader.

Y/N stands on her tiptoes trying to reach the height required for the poster, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't reach it. She’s just going to give up and ask for help when she feels some strong and determined hands lift her without any sign of trouble or doubt.

She doensn’t need to turn her head or listen to his voice, the strong grip on each side of her hips and his intoxicating perfume are more than enough to confirm who is lifting her in the air.

Luke is not playing fair. Y/N hears his husky and seductive voice as his lips lightly brush her ear. “I know you love my hands on you, but do you plan to put up the poster at some point?”

The cheerleader is shocked for a few seconds, until murmurs around them remind her that they are not alone. She puts the poster as fast as she can and instructs her ex-boyfriend to take her down.

Reluctantly she turns around and for the first time in quite a few weeks her eyes meet her favorite ones, which at least for the moment, are deep green.

"You can't do that, Lucas. We broke up."

He smirks. She only calls him like that when she's trying really hard to scold him even though it's not what she actually wants. She tries to look more determined and tough, but he can see through it all.

He decides to rest one of his arms on the wall, leaning just enough so that their foreheads are almost touching, and then smiles at her. One of those smiles that she used to classify as the most tender and beautiful sight in the world and that used to receive a light sweet kiss in return.

But this time, instead of a kiss, her gaze tells him that he is crossing the limit and that it’s better to stop. Neither has to say anything, she doesn't need to throw his arm out of the way or yell at him to move.

The two of them know each other better than anyone, and when Luke sees that expression, her wrinkled nose, her eyes lit with annoyance, her crooked mouth, he knows it's time to retreat.

“I’m sorry ba-” His gaze automatically saddens as he remembers that he can no longer call her that. He can see that her eyes also look a little sadder and duller after imagining what the guitarist was going to say. “I’m sorry Y/N. I just missed you.”

“Luke, look at this man. I've been here for 10 minutes and already 14 girls gave me their numbers to pass them to you! I guess word got around that you're single again.”

Alex and Reggie go blank when they are close enough to see their beautiful friend, since Luke was covering her from their sight. The guitarist turns to tap Reggie on the shoulder, and Alex decides to hug her to ease the tension in the air. Her hands are shaking, and Alex is not sure if from sadness or jealousy, but he decides not to say anything and keep hugging her, trying to make her feel supported.

“We missed you so much, we are not Sunset Curve without you.” Alex confesses loud enough for the other two members present to listen and nod their heads.

“I missed you too, boys. My summer was too peaceful and quiet without my favorite band.” The drummer lets go of her and Reggie replaces him by hugging her tightly, moving his arms behind her back silently asking Luke what to do with all the papers in his hands. The annoyed guitarist takes them and throws them away without thinking twice. Reg whispers "rude" and his friend rolls his eyes at him.

Reggie lets go and the four of them stare each other for a few seconds, none knowing what to say or do.

"Hello, sorry but I came to escort this beauty to her next class."

The fifth voice belongs to Cameron Green, who has just appeared in front of them and offers the girl his arm to intertwine with hers.

The perfect captain of the football team. Luke has known for years that the guy has some feelings for his girl, but he never had to worry because he knows her, she would never do anything that would put his trust at risk. But now, things are different.

She takes a step forward to accept the gesture and turns to see the boys one last time.

"I guess I'll see you on music class." She offers an apologetic smile, Alex smiles back to let her know it’s okay.

"But what about lunch break?" Reggie asks, after all, the five have been sitting together for years, they didn’t even separate when Y/N entered the cheer squad.

"I promised to sit down with Cam, sorry guys. But see you later!"

Y/N turns to look at Luke for a few seconds, as if waiting for him to stop her. But never happened.

So both her and Cameron walk until the band can’t see them in the sea of students. Reggie and Alex turn to see their friend, who has his hands wrapped in fists and looks totally crimson, his face irradiates frustration as he clenches his teeth.

“I prOmiseD tO SiT DoWN WitH CaM, fucking hell I’m out of here.”

“You are not going anywhere, man! It’s time for an intervention.” Reggie takes his friends by the arm and leads them to the janitor's closet where he pushes them and closes the door.

“The janitor's closet, really?” Alex asks and Reggie smiles proudly. “..Okay.”

"This is stupid, can we get out of here now?" They both return their attention to Luke, his face radiating despair.

"No. You can't keep prolonging this anymore. What did you think? That no one was going to try to date the most popular girl in school? Are you really so self-centered as to believe that no one would dare just because you are the ex boyfriend? Local rockstar or not, she’s a gem."

“Of course not, I just went into denial, I guess. All I know is that I miss her. I missed her every day this endless summer. I know the experience was amazing, but every night while I was singing the only thing I could think about is how much I wanted to see her beautiful dorky face in the small audience. The way she blushes when I'm singing straight to her direction and I send her a wink. The passion with which she sings each of the songs that she has been listening to over and over for years. How proud she looks of us as we give that final bow.

And it’s stupid, you know? Because somehow, I forced myself to think that having a girlfriend was depriving me of the opportunity to live experiences like that, to live my dream the fullest.

And what I ended up discovering when I did them is that my dream is simply never going to be fulfilled without her. As Alex said, she is as much part of Sunset Curve as any of us. And that now she has other interests or priorities doesn’t diminish how much she loves us and how much we love her, our dreams don't have to collide. And I'm a real idiot who took 3 months to realize it while I'm sure that fake dude was doing his fight to win her over.”

“FINALLY!” They both scream while hugging their brother. “Dude, I’m pretty sure she’s still in love with you, just act fast. You both have to stop being so stubborn and learn to give in for each other's sake from time to time. You cannot ask the other what you do not give.” Alex advises.

“I’ll win my girl back.” Luke smiles, hoping that if he says it with enough conviction it will come true.

The boys decide to go back to classes, by the time they are about to reach the lockers for gym, the other guys are already there and a lively conversation is heard.

“Man, it's not like I've been in love with her for years. I don't even know her. But stealing Luke Patterson’s girlfriend who is casually the most popular girl in school, is simply the step that makes you a legend in this small town. Not to mention that perfect body, what I would do to her if I had the chance."

No one has noticed the Sunset Curve members are present, and the second they hear him Reggie and Alex cover Luke's mouth and drag him out of there.

“I’m going to kill him! And before you say it, I don't care if it's the stupid football captain! If his monkeys hit me I have the satisfaction that I already gave him a black eye and I took out 3 teeth from him. No one is going to play or talk about her like that!"

To say that he is angry is an understatement. He is shaking with fury, moving in the small hall from one side to the other trying to calm the urge to slam his fist against the wall, because if he is going to slam it somewhere it will be in that idiot's face.

“You have to control yourself and be smart for once! he is the golden boy of the school, no matter how popular you are, your reputation as a bad boy is not going to win against his. Maybe not even with Y/N, she might think you're just fired up to see them together."

As much as it hurts to admit it, Alex is right. That clown has convinced everyone in the school with the idea that he doesn’t break a plate. While the guitarist is famous for skipping classes and playing clubs until dawn.

“And what am I supposed to do? I hope you don't suggest that I just sit around doing nothing."

Reggie takes two steps back in case Alex's suggestion is in fact Luke to do nothing. After all, he has to protect that adorable face.

“I’m not telling you to do nothing, I’m asking you to pay attention to what’s really important. Don't focus on him, focus on her."

He’s not going to say it aloud, but Alex is right, again. She should always be his main focus.

After his friends manage to convince him to take the peaceful route, Luke spends the rest of the day searching for the right words to say, but it’s difficult to find inspiration when every time he turns the love of his life is next to a jerk who is only trying to deceive her.

Not to mention lunch break, every time that idiot tried to touch her or get too close, the guitarist felt his blood boil. The only thing that kept him sane is that she politely pushed him away each and every time.

Reggie managed to convince her to come to the studio with them after her cheer training, just like they used to do last school year. The boys waited for her each time and then she accompanied them to their band rehearsals. Or at least they did before both she and Luke started arguing for not wanting to put in that extra effort.

Alex and Reggie watched as the relationship began to decline and the fights began to escalate. And when the breakup became official, they knew they had to keep the exes away from each other. The ex couple had never been apart and it was important for them to make their friends realized how much they want and love each other's presence in their lives. How lucky they are to have such a supportive partner at their side.

They never said anything to Luke but they could see how sad and depressed the guitarist looked without her. As if that spark in him was missing.

All day they were observing their girly who looked just as miserable, that special aura full of dull energy.

Alex had a theory that he explained to Reggie. When a relationship finishes going through that time where it feels new and recent, when you get used to the other as a couple, sometimes it is easy to take things for granted and not want to continue trying or giving the extra.

Sometimes you get lost in that lapse, and finding a balance is not easy. But when you love someone as much as they love each other, well, it’s easy to guess they’ll find the way.

So while Alex distracted Luke, Reggie ran to convince his girl friend to join them, which wasn't easy considering she already had plans with the football player. At that moment the bassist was grateful Luke was not around to hear that.

Once they are together, things will settle down. They have both suffered enough to know that without a doubt everything they have to do for the other is worth it. It’s time for them to stop being stubborn because Reg and Alex are not going to bear being in the middle for long. Those two can be insufferable sometimes.

So, that's how Sunset Curve ended in the stands. Watching her friend as the squad lifted her to the top of the pyramid.

Luke can't help but see her with loving eyes. He feels so proud of her, and that’s when he realizes he can’t remember the last time he actually told her, and that hurts him. She should hear those words every day, and if he is lucky enough for her to accept him back, that will be one of the first things that will change.

He's so focused on watching her, that he doesn't realize the football team is starting a fight just yards away until Reggie hits him on the shoulder.

Cameron pushes one of his teammates straight into the pyramid, which begins to disarm before the guitarist's eyes.

Some of her team manage the impact not be too strong, but she still stays motionless on the ground for a few seconds because of the shock.

Cameron Green kneels in front of her, Luke tries desperately to pass but two big guys get behind their captain to block him.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” The desperation in his voice indicates that he will do whatever it takes to get to her.

“Leave her alone already, Patterson!”

Reggie and Alex catch up with him and mentally prepare for what lies ahead, when they hear Y/N's weak voice.

"No! Luke, please. I need Luke."

The guitarist takes advantage of everyone's momentary shock after hearing her voice and manages to get to her side.

“I- I- I’m here, baby. I’m here, don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Luke lightly caresses her cheek while examining her body, it seems that it was more the scare than anything else.

“I know.” She smiles at the contact of Luke’s hand in her skin.

“Yeah?” He asks almost in a whisper, he is hypnotized watching her. Trying with all his might not to kiss her.

“Yes, you are here. As long as we are together everything will be fine.”

“Is this your subtle way to tie me up again?” Luke teases while helping her sit up. The whole crowd watches them around the field. Cameron looking angry just a few yards away.

She laughs. A wholesome laugh, full of happiness. “Oh honey, we all know you never stopped being mine."

If there is something that turns him on, is his Y/N’s confidence. (And see her in nothing but his t-shirts but that’s not the point.)

“Right back atcha, baby.” He brushes his lips against hers while making that seducting face that she can hardly ever resist, but this time she surprises him by taking him from behind the neck and crashing her lips on his.

The people around them begin to applaud the show, and without interrupting the passionate kiss Luke puts his arms around her back and legs to lift her up and carry her away.

Reggie and Alex do a fist bump and then one looks for Y/N's things and the other for Luke's and follows them from behind.

"They endured a whole school day, wow."

"If we hadn't stolen Luke from her over summer they would have been 2 hours apart and it would have been the most embarrassing separation of all time."

"The two of them were going through a lot and they didn't know how to cope at the time, but now that they are both better, I’m very happy they’re back together, they are soulmates."

“They sure are, Reg. Did you see Cameron's face when Luke stuck his tongue down Y/N's throat? PRICELESS.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa, @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals

[yamalegacy]

prompt eleven with mirko 😳

i've already done 11 with midnight but idc, i love buff bunny too much not to do it! and well, considering how it aligns with the godly possessive!rumi hcs, it's way too tempting anyway! so here goes!

prompt: #11 from this list  “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

pairing: mirko (usagiyama rumi) x gn!reader

cw: SMUT. afab reader. rumi is a possessive bunny. brat!reader. dom/sub dynamic. hair pulling, spanking, dirty talking, slight degradation & praise kink (yes, both at the same time, don’t underestimate rumi), fingering, strapon, slight anal fingering. oh boy this really is the filthiest thing i’ve written in a loooong time.

word count: about 3,7k words WOPS I GOT CARRIED AWAY

⚠️ MDNI reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

   Your phone buzzes exactly seven minutes after you started a conversation with Keigo— he insists you call him Keigo, because Hawks is too professional and Takami is too formal, his own words. Seven whole minutes (yes, you’ve been keeping an eye on the time during the whole conversation). It’s over six minutes later than you’d expected, really. It buzzes again almost immediately, and you make a point to ignore your phone for a bit as you glance at Rumi, on the other side of the bar, over the rim of your glass.

When she arcs an eyebrow at you, visibly losing her patience, you give all your attention to Keigo again and offer him a smile before pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the messages you’ve no doubt received from the Rabbit Hero.

fluffy butt 🐇🤍

i bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home

It’s almost disappointing how predictable she is with these things. Almost. Rumi is way too hot when she gets jealous for it to actually be disappointing. You want to remind her that she is the one who invited you to that bar and who left you alone to get drinks, that she is the one who got distracted by a conversation with Ryukyu, but you decide to leave her on read and see what happens.

From where you stand, you can see Rumi’s internal struggle not to just abruptly cut Ryukyu in the middle of what she is saying so that she can get right between you and Keigo. It’s quite the amusing sight, from her flattened ears to her thumping foot, her attitude reeks of frustration. You can’t help but wonder what will tick her off so much that she will intervene — Keigo has only touched you shoulder and given your arm a light squeeze and Rumi is already seething, so it seems likely just about anything would set her off.

“I can hear her thump from here,” Keigo comments, a lazy smile adorning his lips. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

You chuckle at his words.

“I think she’s trying to see whether or not looks can kill.”

He leans closer to you (and you know it’s much too closer to Rumi’s standards because you can smell the minty alcohol on his breath), “I sure hope looks can kill. It’d be a lot less painful than her foot up my— well, wherever she fancies shoving it, I guess.”

You don’t even have time to give him a reaction that you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, so you lean away from Keigo just enough to properly look at your girlfriend as she marches over to you. It’s only now that she is right here that you notice she’s opened her leather jacket, revealing one of her favorite crop tops — black, sinfully tight and exposing just the right amount of cleavage and abs to make your mouth water. 

God, her skin always looks so tempting, you want to reach out, to put a hand on her waist, under her jacket, but she grabs you by the wrist before you can even try to move a muscle. Her eyes are fixed on you, and, to your surprise, she doesn’t even acknowledge Keigo.

“We’re leaving,” she says, her tone stern.

“Rumi... it’d be rude to leave so early,” you tell her, smiling at her with all the innocence you can muster (enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know you well), “and you are the one who wanted us to come here in the first pl—”

“We’re leaving. I remembered I have something to do.”

You want to push, to tease, to see how far she’ll go, so even if her tone leaves no room for argument, you open your mouth again.

“But you—”

“Now.”

She tugs are your arm and you follow as she takes a first few steps away from Keigo, only to turn around and face him.

“I hope you choke on your fucking feathers, birdy.”

“Always nice to talk to you, Usagiyama,” he simply smirks and gives her a small wave of his hand, “and I hope something,” he glances at you, “will enjoy getting done.”

Rumi doesn't give you any time to say goodbye to him, or to any of her hero friends, and she drags you out of the bar, heading straight for her car. She doesn't even let you register how forceful she is being that you've already been shoved in the passenger seat.

The ride home is short (too short; Rumi drives way too fast for a Pro Hero who is supposed to set an example for those around her) and awfully quiet. She didn't even look at you, didn't glance your way at least once like she usually does. Rumi's ears are still flattened in annoyance when she opens the door of her house to push you inside.

She kicks off her sneakers and takes off her leather jacket to leave it on the back of chair, then heads to the couch, sitting down nonchalantly, arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushes up her tits. All you can do is stare, unable to form a coherent thought as you settle down next to her.

“You had fun flirting with Big Bird, baby?” she asks, and the question would be innocent enough if you didn't know your girlfriend better.

You move so that you're facing Rumi on the couch, your knee bumping into a strong thigh — and maybe, for a moment, you get briefly distracted by the thought of these rippling muscles on either side of your head.

“Come on, Rumi, you know there was no actual flirting. We were just having fun.”

She leans closer to you, invading your personal space, face so close to yours that all you can see in the harsh coldness in her eyes. You barely have time to blink that one of her hands is at the back of your head, her grip on your hair surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, because you think I don’t know what little game you were playing with him there?” she is nearly snarling at you, and this time, her grip on your hair tightens, deliciously painful, and she tugs. “Why do you think I waited so long to grab you, uh?”

So, she knew? The whole time you spent talking with Keigo, flirting with him and allowing him to flirt to get a reaction from her, she knew? And it still didn't stop her from getting jealous and acting possessive in the middle of a bar, surrounded by numerous other Pro Heroes.

Her grip on your hair tightens once more and she brings you closer to her body.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd take your little game," she explains, words nearly spat through her gritted teeth. "But I couldn't take it anymore. You're mine, understood?" she asks, but the way she pulls at your hair clearly tells you that she expects no reply.

"I thought we agreed that I was my own person?" you smirk, even as she yet again tugs at your hair. "We said we don't own each other even if we're dating, didn't we?"

It is true, it's something you've talked about pretty early in your relationship together, after Rumi admitted that she could get jealous easily, but hated that she got jealous. It led to conversation about acting possessive during sex and marking, and you know that's what Rumi is going on about right now, and not some sort of ownership that she'd have over you because she is your girlfriend. But you can't help it, can't help wanting to push all her buttons and see what kind of punishment it earns you.

"You're playing smartass with me now, uh?"

She tugs at your hair again, forcing your head back slightly, but you hold eye contact, refusing to let her get the submission that she wants from you just now. You've already earned yourself a punishment, might as well make the most of it, right?

"I would never."

You smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at her, even if the pain tickling your scalp is starting to blur your sight.

She lets go of your hair without saying anything, and for just a second, you think she might be too annoyed with your act and drop the issue entirely to move on and do whatever she feels like doing for the rest of the night. But she wraps her strong fingers around your wrist and pulls, her free hand pressing harshly between your shoulder blades to push you down onto her lap, face into the couch cushion and ass up, perched over her thighs.

Well, shit.

The first spank comes unexpectedly fast and hard, you have no time to brace yourself for the impact, and your jeans do little to absorb the shock and the pain spreading through your cheek.

“Shit!” you groan through gritted teeth, trying your best not to get too loud, which is most likely exactly what Rumi wants right now.

“Got something to say, baby?” Rumi asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Nope. All good,” you mumble.

A second slap comes, matching the first one in speed and strength, leaving your ass numb from the pain. If there’s one thing you can never expect from your girlfriend, it’s for her to go easy on you.

“All good, you said?”

“Yup,” you whimper pathetically, your voice having none of the bite you wish for. Two spanks, and Rumi already has you trembling over her lap, it’s ridiculous, but you should have seen it coming, really.

She spanks you again, twice, and takes the time to brush the palm of her hand over your sore cheeks, the gesture almost soothing. She repeats the movements again, and again, before stopping to give your ass a squeeze. With each spank, you pant, forcing yourself to swallow the moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

“You’re taking your punishment really well today, baby. Trying to be good for me?” she teases, her hand now comfortably lodged between your thighs, too close to your aching core and yet not nearly close enough.

“Or maybe you’re not hitting as hard as you think you are.”

You aren't sure why you said that, aren't sure what you're doing right now, all you know is that it's dangerous because you're just provoking Rumi — it's always a recipe for disaster in the end.

She doesn't spank you though, but she snakes a hand between her lap and your stomach, pressing her fingers into your skin and pushing up until you put your weight on your knees and lift yourself up enough for her to get access to the button of your pants. Rumi hooks her fingers at the hem of your jeans and tugs, dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear.

She doesn't give you time to adapt to the cool air against your exposed bottom, doesn't let you collect your thoughts or even take a breath, before she is spanking you again. She marks no pause between each strike, just spanks and spanks and spanks. Lost in the rapid fire of her assault on your sensitive ass, you can't stop yourself from moaning — and that's when she pauses.

“Did my baby just moan?”

You stubbornly refuse to respond, clenching your jaw. You know a spank is coming, but you still aren’t ready for the pain.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re just a slut, desperate for me to touch you,” she coos, her calloused fingers gently brushing the raw skin of your ass. “Even if I’m just spanking you, you want me to touch you, don’t you? Because you’re a needy little whore for me, uh?”

Her words cause a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your core, but you press your thighs together and bit your tongue. You’re well aware what she wants you to do, what she wants you to say, but you don’t want to give it to her today. You’ve decided to play, and you won’t back down just because she’s spanking your ass raw. At your stubborn silence, she all but growls in your ear, her annoyance obvious as she slaps your burning cheek once more.

“How long do you think you can resist, baby?” she asks as her fingers trace little patterns on your back, your shirt riding up as her hand slowly moves higher. “How long til you act like the good little slut you are for me?”

You muffle your whine in the cushion, which is starting to feel uncomfortably wet from your tears and drool under your cheek. You hate it, but you can’t give in now. Rumi would be too pleased.

“Just say you’re mine, baby, say you’re my perfect good little slut,” she says, her fingers trailing down your back to settle between your thighs, an inch from where you need her most, “just say it and I promise I’ll fuck your pretty cunt so good you won’t be able to walk.”

She runs a finger along your drenched fold, and you hear her hum in delight. You hate how wet she’s making you; you can’t deny that this is all for her, that it’s the effect she has one you. Met with only silence once again, Rumi harshly pinches your clit between her thumb and index finger.

“Aaah! Rumi—” you gasp, whole body quivering.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimper weakly.

“Uh? What did you say? Didn’t hear you, baby. Stop hiding in the couch and gimme a proper sentence.”

You nearly sob as she tightens her grip on your clit before releasing it.

“I’m your slut! All yours!” you feel your whole face burning at your own word, at the desperation in your voice. “I need you to fuck me! Please... Mirko... please fuck me.”

She chuckles, all too amused to your liking.

“See? Ain’t so hard to be good, is it?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Rumi has hoisted you in her arms and thrown you over her shoulder and is making her way to your bedroom. Your pants still down the middle of your thighs and ass bared, it’s the most embarrassing ever but you can’t even find words to express it; you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, sticky and embarrassing.

She tosses onto the bed as soon as she is close enough to it.

“Be good and strip for me, baby. Take everything off.”

You hurry to obey, pushing your pants further down and kicking them off your feet before you start working on taking off your shirt. Rumi’s disappeared into the bathroom, so you sit patiently to wait for her, back leaning against the headboard.

When she comes back, Rumi is dressed, and you take the time to admire her beauty. The size of her strong arms obvious through the thin material of her long-sleeved crop top, the delicious expanse of tan skin of her stomach, her tight abs, the curve of her hips— you notice it only now, the thick bulge hidden under her jeans. You look up at her face, surprise written all over your features, and the smile she gives you is playful, she even wiggles her eyebrows at you.

Rumi unbuttons and unzips her pants, freeing the thickness of her strapon from them before climbing on the bed. She sits, legs spread, and beckons you closer with the simple movement of a finger.

“Suck it,” she demands, “get my cock nice and ready to fuck your cunt.”

You crawl over to her and wrap a hand around the hard silicone as soon as it’s within reach, your lips closing around its head. You circle it with your tongue, lick it, and look up at Rumi’s face, the dildo snug in your mouth. She can’t feel it, but she always enjoys when you put on a show for her.

Long gone is your little rebellious act from earlier. All you want is for Rumi to take you here and now, to have her fuck you until you pass out.

As you take more of the silicone cock into your mouth, she puts a hand on your head, and soon enough, you can feel her tight grip in your hair. You’re almost halfway when she tugs and pulls you away from her cock.

“Ass up. Face down. Now.”

You do as she orders, resisting the temptation to look up when you feel the bed dip next to you. You hear her open the drawer of the nightstand, then the sound of the lube bottle being opened. From the loud clang that follows, you know she’s thrown the bottle back in the drawer rather than bother putting it down.

Her fingers are cold when they press against your entrance, slick with thick lube that she spreads over your folds, over your clit, before pushing two fingers inside you. You grip at the sheets, low moan leaving your lips.

“Look at you, being all good for me now,” she comments, her tone teasing. “Taking my fingers so well.” This time, her voice comes from much closer, and you feel her chest pressing against your back. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she starts moving her fingers, slow and deliberate. “You want my cock, baby?”

You whimper at a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers and tighten your grip on the sheet to try and keep yourself anchored, balanced.

“Yes, please! I want your cock in me!”

She pulls out her fingers, and your cunt clenches around the emptiness. You can’t help but moan miserably. She coos above you, amused by your desperation, of course.

She pushes the thick head of the strapon against your hole, but instead of pushing further into you, she guides it up and down your folds, several time, painfully slow, spreading the slickness of your arousal mixed with the lube. You whine and push your hips back, seeking what she is refusing you. A big mistake, and you know it even before both her hands hit your ass, still raw from the spanking she gave you.

“Don’t try that again, baby,” she warns, squeezing the flesh of your in her hands as she presses the dildo against your entrance again. “You gonna be good for me now?”

“I promise I’ll be good! So, please, please fuck me!”

She pushes into you slowly, just the head, then pulls out and repeats the movement, carefully stretching you. She eases more of the strapon inside you with each move, and while you are grateful for how careful she is being, you wish she would just fuck you into the mattress already.

Finally, you feel her hips against your ass, and she pauses for a moment as her hands rest on your waist.

“You ready, baby?”

“I am.”

The pace she sets is fast, the movements of her hips quick, precise and harsh, almost unforgiving. The material of her pants feels rough against the sensitive skin of your ass, and you suspect Rumi of having kept her pants on merely to torture you that way.

Within seconds, Rumi has you panting and moaning.

“So good for me, taking my cock so well.”

She slows her quick pace to focus on deeper, more forceful thrusts. You can’t even form a coherent sentence, or even words, to respond. And when one of her hands leaves your waist, you clench your teeth and brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Instead of spanking you, she is gentle as she places her hand on your ass. She doesn’t leave you time to consider asking her what she is doing that her thumb is pushing against your hole, and she keeps it set firmly in your ass as she quickens the pace again, fucking into your cunt ruthlessly, her hips slapping your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck! Mirko! Please!”

You’re babbling, unsure if the sounds that come out of your mouth are even the ones in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care when all you can feel is your girlfriend fucking you like your lives depends on it. And with each thrust bringing you closer to the edge, you moan, you mewl, you pant, you aren’t sure which, the lewd, wet noises of your pussy overwhelming your senses.

“Look at you, baby,” she croons, “being such a good slut for me, making such pretty noises just for me. So pretty and perfect. And all mine.”

“I’m so close! Please! I wanna come!”

She stills her hips, “then do,” she simply says, punctuating the short sentence with a strong thrust before resuming her quick pace.

It only takes a few more thrusts of her cock and her thumb pushing a little further into your ass for your muscles to clench desperately around her strap as waves of pleasure crash through your body, your limbs quivering from the unadulterated bliss clouding your mind. 

She is gentle as she pulls out, kisses your back as she eases you down onto the mattress and lies down next to you.

You turn your head to look at her, and she is grinning at you as you lay limply on the bed. She caresses your cheek, soft and loving, and shifts closer to kiss you on the nose.

“You did so good, babe,” she whispers, her smile only broadening, “I’m so proud of you.”

Feeling the exhaustion invade your body, you close your eye and focus on enjoying her gentle touch as she runs her fingers along your back and shoulders.

“Let’s get you in the shower in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll have to take care of your ass. I really got carried, sorry ‘bout that.”

You chuckle sleepily at her apology.

“Don’t be sorry, you know I liked it.”

“I do know. I mean, you fucking dripped on my pants, there’s still a spot on my thigh.”

You groan in embarrassment, and you would cover your face with your hands if your muscles weren’t still twitching from your orgasm.

“Just carry my lifeless body to the bathroom.”

“Gimme a break, I’m tired too. I fucking wrecked my hands spanking you so hard, ya know?”

“You really want to compare the state of your hands to my ass?” you mutter, frowning, eyes barely opening.

It’s her turn to chuckle.

“Yeah, okay, no. Just, lemme take a breathe and I’ll take care of my baby.”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

THINGS YOU MAKE ME DO

Prompt: Inspired by the song Things You Make Me Do by Devil Doll

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, angst, heart break, manipulation

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @wickedsunfire , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: This song is amazing, this band is amazing and I missed my main man, so enjoy lol ❤️ If you’d like to check out my other works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

I've got a secret plan to love you and I do so night and day

And I always stand right by you, have your back in every way

And you wish that I could save you and I wish that I could too

But if you cause too much pain for me I'll leave if I have to

He stood up from the hotel bed and began to get dressed, and as she stared at his figure, she wondered until when was she going to put up with this

But I think about you constantly all through the night and day

And I toss and turn in bed at night and hope it goes away

But it never does and when I wake and you're not next to me

I remember where you are, I hope your girl forgives me

“Are you leaving already?” She asked

“You know I have to” He looked at her “We can’t have people suspecting this” He motioned to the space between them “I would be fucked if they did” He scoffed

“Excuse me?” She asked, hurt by his lack of emotion “What do you mean by that?” She couldn’t have felt more offended, even if she chose to

“What, Y/N? Look, we fuck every once in a while, we have a good time but that’s it!” He chuckled, as he tied up his sneakers “Don’t try to turn this into something that it isn’t” He stood up

“Like what?” She asked angrily

“You know what? I’ll see you later” He winked, and walked out the door of her hotel room

Do I need you?

You seem to think I do

Can't seem to see through anything that you do

Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do

Y/N was walking down one of the dark arena hallways, when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pushing her inside of one of the locker rooms

“Aren’t you gonna talk to me?” He asked, with his lips glued to her ear

“No, and let me go! I have work to do”

“You’ve been ignoring me for three days straight! Why is that, baby?” As his lips made contact with her skin, trailing down her neck

“Roman, just let me go. This is not the place and DEFINITELY not the time”

“I miss you” He whispered “Y/N, baby, you hurt my feelings when you treat me like this” He buried his face in her hair and caressed her body softly

She scoffed “As if you had any”

“Hey” He turned her around so she could face him “What’s the attitude about?” He looked into her eyes, and saw the resentment they held

“Is this because of what I said in your hotel room?” He sighed

“If you know, then why play dumb?” She spat

“C’mon Y/N, I’m sorry, ok?” He hugged her waist “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m an asshole! Please forgive me?” He pouted “Please, baby? I hate when you get mad at me” He begged with his eyes

“You don’t deserve it, you know” She crossed her arms in front of her chest

“Don’t be such a bitter bitch...It’s hotter when you’re MY bitch” He teased

When she tried to hold back a cackle, he knew he had won again

I should know better than to follow your lead wherever you go

Through the raging rivers, stones and alley ways we go

Sometimes I wonder if you really know where you take me to

But your radio is on so loud I can't get through to you

But if everything's ok with you then it's ok with me

You are such a little boy with you're big philosophy

But I'm not a little girl, I am a woman, don't you know?

I'm packing up my toys, I don't want to play anymore

“I don’t want to do this anymore” She said, watching him turn around and get dressed again - as he did every time.

“What are you talking about?” He frowned, as he looked for his shirt

“I don’t want to see you anymore, I’m done with this bullshit”

“You’re breaking up with me?” He laughed, in disbelief

“Well technically, in order to break up with someone you need to be with them in the first place”

“Not this again” He rolled his eyes in annoyance “Why do you always have to get feelings involved, huh? For fucks sake, can’t you ENJOY a one night stand like everybody else?” He threw his hands up in the air

“One night stand?” She widened her eyes in surprise “Do you call fucking almost every night for two years straight a ‘one night stand’ ?”

“Sexually speaking, we couldn't be any more compatible if we tried - so what the fuck do you want me to do? You’re a good fuck to me and I’m a good fuck to you! Why would I search in clubs and bars for something I have next door?” He tugged on his hair out of frustration “I don’t have to date you to like you, Y/N” He sat down beside her on the bed, and caressed her face delicately “You know I like you, don’t you, baby?”

“Yeah I know” She slapped his hand away “You like me when your dick is inside of me”

“Y/N” He sighed

“Get the fuck out” She kicked him on his lower back, in a repeated attempt to shove him out of the bed “Get out!”

“I’m leaving!” He said, grabbing his jacket

“Out!” She threw one of her heels at him, and her aim made it so it nailed him sharply in the hip

“I said I’m fucking leaving” He grabbed the door handle “Crazy bitch!” He said loudly enough for her to hear as he left

But what he didn’t hear were her sobs, which lasted the entire weekend

Do I need you?

You seem to think I do

Can't seem to see through anything that you do

Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do

Six months had passed. Y/N had transferred to Smackdown, leaving Roman and all of their bitter memories together with Monday Night Raw, and for once in her life, is truly happy. That night, as she approached her car in the parking lot, she spotted none other than Roman himself leaning against the drivers’ door of her vehicle

And how can you smile at me when you know just what you can do

And it's not fair to me cause you know that I can never have you

How can you make me feel so good but then you make me feel so bad

You know that you are the baddest love that I've never had

“Hi, baby” He smiled sheepishly “I missed you” He tried to hug her, but she dismissed him

*It’s not going to be as easy as I thought* He mentally said to himself

“Can I talk to you for a minute? I wanted to apolog-”

“What are you doing here, Roman?” She asked sharply

“I got transferred to Smackdown”

“Good for you” She nodded once and continued “Now, if you excuse me, I’m really tired” She pointed towards her car

“Y/N” He cupped her cheek “Please, just hear me out? I regret everything I did, baby. I mean it! I should have never treated you like that, you don’t deserve it! You’re a beautiful, smart, sexy woman and it was a huge mistake to take you for granted” He brushed his lips softly against hers “Tell me you forgive me, I beg you, please, baby”

“I forgive you and then what? Everything goes back to what it used to be? You treating me like shit? No, Roman. This is not fair to me” She shook her head

“And you’re absolutely right! That will NEVER happen again! I give you my word, baby. Just give me one more chance and I promise I’ll make it up to you” His long fingers stroked the back of her neck lightly, making her miss what they once had.

That was until her phone rang, and the first chords of the Davy Jones Locket song echoed through the parking lot, remembering her of what she had now.

She smiled, as the song continued “No, I have to go” She took his hand off her face and entered the car to go meet the owner of that ringtone.

I've got my own man now, he treats me the way that you never could

And now you're all like "I should’ve, could’ve, would..."

But I'm afraid you've missed the train, you were too busy playing games

And now our story comes to an end, you ain't my lover or my friend

And when I am walking down the aisle oh so happily

Then you'll be saying "it could’ve, should’ve been me."

“Rumor has it, you’re getting married” Roman said, leaning against her office’s door

“Wow, news travels fast in this business, huh?” She answered, not paying too

much attention to him

“Can I see the ring?”

“Why? Want to buy a new one for your wife?” She scoffed

He decided to ignore her tone “Can I know who the lucky guy is?”

“Will it change anything if you do?” She continued to read her papers

“Can you stop answering my questions with other questions?”

“Will you stop asking me personal questions then?”

He chuckled softly “I missed that acid humor of yours”

“What do you want Roman?” She glared at him

“Your happiness” But this time, he meant it

“Now, that’s a bad taste joke” She laughed bitterly

“I know you don’t believe me, but I do”

“Right” She said dismissively

“Can you tell me who it is?”

“I figure, if you know I’m getting married then you also know who the groom is. Why hear old news again?”

“It’s Drew, isn’t it?” He asked defeatedly

She sighed “Yes, Roman. It’s Drew, are you happy now?”

“When is the wedding?”

“October. Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“I need to know how much time I have to kidnap you before you commit the biggest mistake of your life” He joked, but deep down, he meant it

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already committed that one” She said, intentionally making eye contact with him

“I love you, Y/N. Always have”

“You have a funny way of showing it” She murmured

“I’m sorry, babe...but I felt trapped. I didn’t knew how to express what I was feeling and I was so confused” He locked his gaze with hers “I would do everything different now, I swear I would”

She ignored his pleading eyes, and returned her gaze to her paperwork “I’m afraid that time is gone, Roman...There’s nothing left to do”

If you need me, I will not hear thee

Stay away from me, trying to decieve me

Oh, oh, ohhh the things you make me do

Oh the things you'll never make me do

Oh the things you’ll never make me do

Roses are red, violets are blue and so are you

One year later, Y/N is gathering her personal belongings from her office, her pregnancy doesn’t allow her to travel with the company any more, so she’s going to be working only from her home office for the foreseeable future. A knock on her door made her look up

“I heard the stork will be visiting you soon” Roman said

“Yeah, apparently she will”

“How far along are you?” He approached her carefully

“Just turned four months”

“Baby is popping out of nowhere, huh? Until a week ago you had no bump at all, and now” He reached his hand to touch her belly, but stopped midway

“It’s okay, Ro, you can touch it” She encouraged him

He smiled widely and rested his big hand against her tiny bump

“Do you know what you’re having?” He asked softly

“Girl” She smiled brightly “Regan”

“Even got her a name already? Damn baby, you’re fast- Sorry I shouldn’t have called you that” He said weakly

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it” She tried to hide the nostalgia the pet name brought to her

“I wish...” He trailed off

“Don’t. Don’t go there, please”

“You can still run away with me, you know?” He smirked, teasingly

“I’m sure you would look great holding a female version of Drew” She tried to joke

“As long as you birth it, I don’t care who made it. Although I wish it was me” He tried, one last time

“Maybe in another life, Ro” She smirked sadly, as she reached the door

“Do you promise?” He asked

“I’ll see you around” Smiling widely, she made her way out the arena doors, leaving him behind, for the second time (in that life).

But who knows what can happen in the next one?...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[arhvste]

❝ haikyuu boys reacting to getting headlice ❞

an - i couldnt possibly tell you where the motivation to write this came from but here you go

HINATA SHOUYO

-> he doesn’t care. they’re little bugs living rent free in his head? who is he to kick them off his head when they’ve probably settled, made a nice home and got a growing family started? considerate king but disgusting

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

-> disgusted. but also thinks just a few rinses of water will do the trick. he doesn’t understand he’s actually got to get in there and pull them out. miwa is horrified walking into the bathroom to see tobio leaned over the bath with a tub full of cold water he’s ultimately wasted. he’s lucky miwa knows what she’s doing

TSUKISHIMA KEI

-> no mercy. rips the little mfs off his head like nobodies business. his brother can only stare in awe and disturbance. kei isn’t scared over a few bugs they’re only a minor annoyance. he won’t tell a soul he had headlice though and if anyone were to snitch on him, he’d probably shake a few off his head and onto yours.

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

-> stressed. his hairs kinda long so they’re a pain the ass to get out some may think he’d be a little hesistant to tackle them alone but yams has several lice killing lotions in his bathroom ready to use. he is sympathetic but no way is he letting little bugs crawl around his head while he’s around tsukki

TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE

-> the bugs don’t even get to step on this kings prestine head,, next caller !!

NISHINOYA YUU

-> merciless. who tf do these bugs think they are stepping onto his territory? feral. probably put a few in a jar after pulling them out to bark at them and show them that they’ve crossed the line stepping onto his head

ASAHI AZUMANE

-> have sympathy for the guy they’re gonna be a nightmare for him. more upset than anything. now he’s being reduced to being ridiculed by tiny ass bugs too? give the guy a break. gets them out within the first day because he’s not going to suffer longer than he has to and continues doing the treatment for the rest of the week even though they’re certainly long gone

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

-> brutal. like tsukki he’s got no shame in just ripping them out. suga is the type of guy to catch spiders and gently let them out the window and not kill them. lice don’t get that treatment from him. will straight up throw them down the drain and smirk in the process

DAICHI SAWAMURA

-> just another minor occurrence for him. he’s got short hair it’s no biggie. will probably get his mother to help just to make sure he does it right but overall he’ll get rid of them effectively and quickly you wouldn’t even be able to tell he had them in the first place

KINDAICHI YUUTAROU

-> good. he deserves them. maybe this will teach him to get a good haircut. at least the lice like your cut g

KUNIMI AKIRA

-> tortures them after. probably wets a paper towel to keep them stuck to and jabs at them with a thin needle after he’s got them out. sadist little bitch probably has a deadpan expression while doing it too. the lice fear him across the country and avoid him from now on

KYOTANI KENTARO

-> again he’s got short hair so they’re not too big of a pain to get out but why the hell did they have to pick his head? probably picks them out and just throws them wherever he has no regard for where they land and who might catch them from him

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

-> little bugs are just chilling no biggie. probably tells the team he’s got them and shakes his head near them to piss them off. oikawa keeps his distance approximately 5 metres and refuses to be included in any rotation makki is in during practice. even after he gets rid of them he doesn’t tell the team and continues shaking his head near them just to ‘keep them on their toes’

MATSUKAWA ISSEI

-> won’t tell anyone other than makki. the two probably pick them out and throw them in oikawas direction leaving their captain confused as to why the hell the two of them keep throwing ‘nothing’ at him. probably gets rid of them within a week and sleeps with a shower cap on so they don’t touch his pillow, that’s his only rule while they spend their vacation on his head

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

-> isn’t scared of no bugs. probably would keep one and press it down just to stick in his childhood bug diary and sneers at how inferior the lice is compared to the other cooler bugs he’d caught before. his hairs short so again it’s not a huge issue for him. he’ll get rid of them quickly and effectively without too much hassle

OIKAWA TOORU

-> screams. begs iwa to take them out for him insisting that it’s his hobby but iwa rejects and leaves oikawa to handle it alone. oikawas sister dips as soon as she finds out and oikawa believes this is the end of his life. after a week of moping and being a brat, iwa gives in and sorts it out for him to finally give him a peace of mind.

LEV HAIBA

-> never had lice before and is genuinely interested rather than concerned. where did the little bugs come from? why do they like his hair so much? is he the chosen one? probably let’s them live on his head for a while until they become infuriatingly itchy and yaku finds out he’s been letting a cult of lice live on his head and forces him to get treatment

KOZUME KENMA

-> thinks bleach with solve it. everyone who hates kenma’s dark roots better be ready for them to go because he will just bleach the shit out of his hair and assume it’s killed them all. for the next few months his hairs gonna be nice but he’ll let his roots grow out again and you’ll secretly hope for him to catch lice again just so he’ll touch up his damn roots again

TAKETORA YAMAMOTO

-> it’s the blonde mohawk that’s the issue. why tf did he have to make his hair to awkward to work with. doesn’t take him long to get out but he probably picks them out walking home from practice or school and just chucks them in bushes or drains he walks past

MORISUKE YAKU

-> you really think he’s about to let some stupid bugs live on his head and not pay rent? absolutely not. has several different brands of lice treatment lotion and uses at least 4 in one go. that amount of chemicals probably isn’t good for you in one go but his only goal is to kill the lice which he achieves. these bugs are mercilessly killed, revived and killed again all in one treatment session

KUROO TETSURŌ

-> this hurt to write knows exactly how to kill them and won’t hesitate in doing so. by that i mean he’s going straight to his grandmother to do it for him because as much as he knows about treatment and such, nobody does anything better than his grandmother and he’ll sit in a chair with a towel around his neck chattering on about his day as his poor grandmother slaves over his head ripping out the stupid bugs from his inconviently styled hair. kuroo’s lucky his grandmother knows he’s her boy

AKAASHI KEIJI

-> bless his soul he’s horrified. disgusting little creatures, believes they’re vermin of the world. mutters in disgust at them as he watches them drown in the pool of water in his bathtub sink eventually sending them down the drain where he hopes they suffer a painful afterlife

KONOHA AKINORI

-> he’s grossed out but doesn’t make a huge deal about it. probably violates himself and gives himself the nickname ‘nitty nori the bug explorer’. he can take a joke and get rid of them in the same week. ugh king shit

BOKUTO KOUTARŌ

-> pain in the ass. he’s excited about these bugs but also worried? do they want to suck his blood? will they crawl into his ears at night? his sisters are the ones responsible with dealing with them and the whole time he’s asking a abundance of random questions regarding the lice and why they chose his head to make their residence

TENDŌ SATORI

-> probably sings at them to make them uncomfortable as he pulls them out. his fingers work magic as he flawlessly picks them out and sends them on their way down to the depths of the drain. the last thing these bugs hear is the terrifying voice of the man who mercilessly sent them to their death beds

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

-> his hairs short it’s okay it’s not the end of the world but rather than killing them he believes they have more use to them. he’s going to throw them in this soil in the garden and assume they work the same miracles worms do. he’ll be disappointed to know that they had no effect on his soil and he wasted his damn time making sure to evenly spread them out of the compost heap

MIYA OSAMU

-> will eat with a hat on. if these bugs are gonna live on his head no way is he sharing his food too. they’ve already taken enough from him. atsumu probably bullies him for his lice but freaks out when osamu tells him that because they’re twins, the lice will seek out his head too and they’ll both be infected. he only survives the short period of time with his lice because of the amusement he gets from watching atsumu consciously stay away from him even to the point where atsumu moves onto the couch. maybe he should let the lice vacate a little longer next time

MIYA ATSUMU

-> hates them. calls them every name under the sun but doesn’t actually effectively try to get rid of them. he doesn’t actually know how to get rid of them but is too embarrassed to admit it so he just lives with it. luckily, the lice decided to move in a few days before his hair was due for a touch up so like kenma, he just bleached the shit out of them and it seems to do the trick. it would be concerning had his hair not needed a touch up though who knows how long he would’ve had them.

SUNA RINTARŌ

-> his little sister notices his hand scratching his head constantly and begins to refer to suna as ‘nit boy’ and only ‘nit boy’. he doesn’t really care at first because surely a single shower will do the trick but his sisters provoking gets so annoying he just ends up treating them 7 times over but not before threatening to leave a few dead ones on his sisters pillow if she doesn’t stop calling him names

ARAN OJIRO

-> again, the lice don’t even get to step on his head. they see aran and they respect him. he seems like a nice and reliable guy so why would they go to the efforts of bothering him? probably nod their tiny ass antennas from atsumu’s hair and let aran go about his day in peace

KITA SHINSUKE

-> lice simply don’t exist in kita’s presence. the second a lice stepped foot on kita’s head, he senses it and ripped the mf off before it could even find a nice area to settle. lice keep away from kita at all times and never intend on crossing paths with him

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

-> an indescribable level of disgusted. refuses to accept it at first, insists that lice simply wouldn’t have been able to touch his head but alas he is wrong. tempted to shave his hair off but then again why should he have to suffer just because some stupid bugs said so. has no mercy, will treat his hair every day for the next month and a half and cusses the bugs out as they fall down the drain

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @dear-kozume @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou @mattsuny @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake @wompwomphq @waitforitillwritemywayout

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[melzula]

Fire Lilies

pairing: Zuko x princess!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, forbidden lovers au

notes: this is my first zuko piece and also my first atla piece ever so pls excuse the fact that it’s a little clunky 🥺 this isn’t really canon to the show but the reader is princess of the southern Water Tribe and a water bender. also this may or may not have been inspired by the secret tunnel song... anyway, i may make a part two to this but for now enjoy!

summary: “Two lovers forbidden from one another. A war divides their people.”

Tensions between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes had never been higher, and the possibility of war was a continuous threat that loomed over both nations. Constant efforts of parley and council meetings proceeded throughout the years, but neither side could ever seem to reach an agreement both deemed satisfactory. As chief of the Southern Water Tribe, such negotiations seemed to weigh heavily upon your father’s shoulders, and despite being the crowned Princess there was nothing you could do to help him.

“A council of negotiations is no place for a princess,” he would remind you every time you attempted to give your own insight and opinion on the troubles your people faced. Your father would leave you then in the care of your mother and your handmaidens, an apologetic kiss placed upon your forehead before his departure.

“The council is overrated anyway,” you would huff in an attempt to conceal your disappointment and annoyance at the unfairness of it all, “it’s just a bunch of angry old men who are too stubborn to set aside their differences for the sake of peace.”

And yet despite your renouncement of such a meeting, you always found yourself sneaking away from home and towards the council chambers where the negations often took place. Your people believed that women held no place in war, only meant to be gentle hands and spirits that served and guided their people. Such expectations were set even higher for Princesses, and so you were restricted to activities such as practicing your healing and providing aid to your people. You loved your tribe with all of your heart, but you found the traditions they practiced rather... well, for lack of a better term, stupid. You could be doing so much more to help if only your father would let you participate.

The stars are bright on this particular evening, a glimmer of hope that hangs over the dark blacks and reds of the Fire Nation ships arriving at the docks; it’s the southern tribe’s turn to host the meeting. You can’t see much from where you stand other than the outlines of the soldiers, guards, officials, and the royal family, but you know for a fact that the minacious figure leading the procession is none other than Fire Lord Ozai. You’d only ever crossed paths with the man once when you were four, and it had purely been an accident on your part, but you knew that if you hadn’t been the Chief’s daughter you would definitely have marks to show for the encounter.

Considering the fact that you’re the only Princess and heir to the throne, it’s surprisingly easy scaling down your balcony and sneaking off into the night without a second thought. Though you found the underestimation of women in your tribe extremely insulting, the “helpless princess” front sure kept suspicions off your back. The nation is quiet with everyone either tucked inside for the night or present at the meeting, and there is no one to stop you from hiding yourself amongst the shadows outside the meeting hall and taking a peek inside.

Various political figures sit at the long table, your father and the Fire Lord sitting at opposite ends. The atmosphere is heavy and thick, the air silent as each side dare’s the other to speak first, and perhaps part of you is glad that you don’t have to sit through such a meeting.

“What are you doing?” A voice calls, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re able to contain your startled gasp so as to not blow your cover. You whirl around with a murderous glint in your eye and the intent to blast whoever almost gave you away with an icy cold wave of water, but your demeanor changes in an instant as you realize who the voice belongs to.

“Zuko!” You squeal, all caution thrown to the wind as you fling yourself into his arms. The sheer force of your impact sends you both toppling back onto the snow, but the prince can’t help the laugh that leaves him as he winds his arms tightly around your waist.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you missed me,” he teases. The two of you sit up from the ground once you release him, and he watches with a fond smile as you carefully brush the snow off of his clothing.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come. Things have been so tense.”

“You know I’ll always come see you,” Zuko comforts before pressing a delicate kiss to your temple. Your relationship with the Fire Nation prince was a complicated one, but there was no denying the love you two shared.

You had first met when you were four and Zuko was five. Originally you were meant to be a playmate for Princess Azula, but she had made it clear that she would much rather torment the white hamsters than spend her time pretending to be your friend. It was Zuko who took interest in your companionship, sledding on the otter penguins with you during the day and sharing secrets at night.

“Princesses aren’t allowed to water bend, but sometimes when no one’s looking I practice my combat skills,” you had told him. “I can also do cool tricks.”

“Really? Like what?”

Zuko watched in awe as you used the water in the air to swirl the snowflakes that fell from the sky into the shape of a butterfly, delicately flapping its wings so that it landed on tip of the young prince’s nose. Joyful laughter escaped him at the sensation, and it was then at four years old that you knew the Fire Nation boy would always hold a special place in your heart.

You kept your courting a secret for the sake of making things less complicated for the both of you. It wasn’t necessarily against the rules for the two of you to be together, but it was just easier to keep it to yourselves. Keeping politics and prying eyes away from your relationship was what made it so strong; you weren’t the Fire Prince and the Water Tribe Princess when you were together, you were simply Zuko and y/n. And it was nicer that way.

“Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you,” Zuko smiles, rolling his eyes at the way your eyebrows immediately furrow in protest. “Just do it.”

With a reluctant sigh you shut your eyes and let out a small hum, waiting for whatever prize may come your way. Something gentle and sweet smelling is placed in your lap, and you open your eyes to see a bouquet of flower lilies resting upon the skirt of your dress.

“Oh, Zuko!” You gasp, picking the bundle up and admiring the beautiful petals. “They’re gorgeous.”

“I knew you’d like them,” he grins. “There aren’t many flowers around here.”

“The snow prevents anything from growing,” you agree with a small smile. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“Anything for the Princess.”

“I love you,” you profess, sighing happily as his lips meet your own in a tender kiss. Times like these were few and far between considering you both came from opposite sides and only saw each other once a month, so you liked to savor the feeling for as long as you could. However, your moment of bliss ended much sooner than you had anticipated.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Your father’s voice bellows from the entryway of the meeting hall. You’re quick to scramble onto your feet and away from Zuko, but the fire lilies are still clutched tightly in your hands.

“Father, I-I can explain,” you begin to say only for him to take hold of you by the elbow and yank you away from a terrified Zuko. The bouquet of flowers falls from your grasp and drops onto the snow.

“How dare you try and soil my daughter!”

“I-I didn’t mean any harm, sir,” Zuko tries to say, “I love and respect your daughter.”

“Love,” your father scoffs. “Fire Nation monsters aren’t capable of love. They only bring pain and heartache wherever they go. For as long as I live I never want to see you near her again, is that clear?”

“Father, you can’t!” You cry, but the deterrent glare he sends your way has you backing down in an instant. You know better than to argue with him when he has that crazed wide eyed look on his face; your father was a good man and a great chief, but he could be ruthless when it came to his people and his family- especially with you.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko utters quietly, eyes cast downward and refusing to meet your gaze. Fighting your father’s decision would only make things worse, and he doesn’t want you to suffer any more than you have to.

“Now run along child,” your father instructs gruffly, “and don’t come back.”

Zuko takes one last longing look at you, and the pleading you look you give him that begs him not to go has his heart breaking into two. Chances are this is the last time he’ll ever see you again, and he wants to commit the details of your memory permanently to his mind. He wants to remember the curve of your lips and the smoothness of your hair, the red of your cheeks from the cold and the tears that brim at the corners of your sparkling eyes. You are beautiful, ever since you were children he thought so, and in his mind he’d always remember you as the Princess with the snow butterfly and the bouquet of fire lilies.

Tears steadily fall down your face as your father guides you home by the elbow, carelessly stepping on the lilies in his path. They crumple and wither under his boot much like your heart had at his banishment of your beloved Zuko.

“Your mother should have kept a better eye on you,” he mutters harshly, glancing sideways at your trembling form. If he holds any remorse for breaking your heart he doesn’t show it, and it makes you feel all the worse. “It was for your own good, y/n. You may not see that now, but someday you will.”

“What happened to keeping the peace?!” You cry in protest. “I thought you wanted our nations to come together in harmony? Zuko and I are proof that it’s possible!“

“There will be no peace,” is your father’s solemn reply. “The Fire Nation has declared war.”

A small gasp leaves your lips at his confession, your stomach tying itself into knots so tight it almost makes you want to vomit. Your father says nothing more as he hands you off to your nurse maids and orders extra guards to ensure you can’t escape again. Everything feels as if it’s come crashing down upon you, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.

Snow begins to fall with the departure of the Fire Nation ships, and your forgotten lilies are suffocated underneath the clean sheets of ice.

*part two

[helaintoloki]

Could you do a Five Hargreeves x reader fanfic where the reader and Five are mean to each other because they like each other. The night that Hazel and Cha Cha invade the Hargreeves mansion,the reader distracts Hazel from kidnapping Klaus and ends up getting kidnapped. Then Five saves the reader and they kiss. Thx

a/n: kinda changed it up a bit here for plot convenience but nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

warnings: language, five being a little sh*t as usual, brief mention of claustrophobia

Well, this certainly wasn’t how you expected your night to end, but you couldn’t exactly say you were surprised considering the complete chaos you’d managed to throw yourself into. Want a little word of advice? Stay far away from the Hargreeves siblings, you’re better off.

“Where’s Number Five?” Your female captor interrogates. They’ve had you as their hostage for about an hour but still hadn’t managed to extract any information from you. It was frustrating, being bested by a stubborn little girl, but Hazel and Cha Cha weren’t about to give up just yet.

“Kiss my ass lady, I’m not telling you shit,” you retort, and for good measure you make sure to spit in her face. It isn’t very ladylike of you but it riles her up and gets the job done.

“Oh, you little-“ she begins to say only to be held back by her counterpart.

“I don’t know about this, partner,” he confesses uneasily. “She’s a kid.”

“And so is Number Five. Are you forgetting we have a job to do?!”

“Look, maybe we should take a breather. Get some donuts, have some coffee, figure out the next move before we do anything irrational. There are gonna be people hot on our trail if we kill a kid.”

Cha Cha stares at Hazel for a long while before finally letting out a sigh, the tension releasing from her shoulders as she looks to you. You’re tied up and helpless with no one coming to save you; those freaks at the academy are probably too mixed up to even notice you’re gone. It’ll be fine.

“Alright,” she resigns, but not before harshly grabbing the back of your chair and nearly throwing you into the closet. “If you try to pull anything funny I’ll kill you.”

“I look forward to it,” you reply sarcastically, a small grunt of annoyance leaving you as she slaps a strip of duct tape over your mouth to keep you quiet. Your words are muffled, but you still make sure to call her every name under the sun as she locks you away in the dark and leaves the motel room with her partner.

A small huff of air leaves your nose as you shut your eyes and try to remain calm despite how extremely claustrophobic you feel trapped in that tiny closet. Perhaps you should have listened the first time Diego tried to shoo you away from him, then you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You’d met the Kraken about a year ago at the boxing ring he’d been working at when he’d caught you trying to steal from the locker rooms. Normally he would have turned you over to the cops and made you their problem, but after seeing how dirty and hungry you were he took you down to his room in the basement where he promptly fed you and forced you to tell him your business. You were an orphan who’d ran off from a shitty foster family, and with no money or family you’d resorted to pickpocketing to sustain yourself. You were granted one night of refuge under his roof and one night only, but then one night turned into one week which then became one month, and now a year later you still found yourself following him around wherever he went. No matter how much he tried to shoo you off or insist you return to the orphanage you stayed, and soon Diego found himself stuck with a new though unwanted companion.

You stayed out of each other’s way for the most part, and sometimes when he was in a good mood he’d help you train in case there was ever a time he wouldn’t be there to protect you and you’d have to fend for yourself. You kinda grew on him after a while, and though he could be a hard ass sometimes he really cared about you. Unlike his relationship with his other siblings, the bond you two had created was relatively healthy and stable. But then the looming threat of an apocalypse came along and suddenly the somewhat quiet life you’d been living for the past year or so had been turned upside down as you became acquainted with his younger— or is it older? You’re still not quite sure— brother.

Five didn’t like you, that much was clear from the get go. He thought you were a nuisance and a distraction and your involvement would only hinder his family’s efforts to save the world. You, on the other hand, found him to be obnoxiously snobby and unbearable to be around, and the fact that he was a trained assassin didn’t impress you in the slightest. You could never be in the same room for more than five minutes without arguing or insulting each other, and now you couldn’t help but feel infuriated with the fact that it was his fault you were in this mess. They were looking for him, after all, and they came to the academy to find him, and instead they’d managed to nab you to get information on his whereabouts— Klaus owed you big time for that one, by the way.

It feels like you’ve been stuck in that closet for hours when the door slams open, though it isn’t Hazel and Cha Cha that greet you on the other side. Five stands before you, annoyed and impatient as he drags you out of the closet and yanks the piece of duct tape off your mouth in one fluid motion.

“Ow!” You cry out in pain, your skin stinging from the sensation as you glare up at Five. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“No time,” he offers before getting to work on untying you. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to get caught. Once again you’ve proven my theory that you’re just a hinderance to my plans.”

“You know, I think you should see a doctor about the stick you have up your ass. Could be serious,” you quip back sarcastically. You let out a breath of relief when the ropes fall from your limbs and onto the floor allowing you the chance to stand up and stretch after the uncomfortable position you’ve been sat in all night.

“Just stay out of my way,” Five says firmly.

“God, what is it with you?! You’ve been nothing but an asshole ever since you got here! I’m only mean to you because you’re mean to me, you know,” you retort agitatedly. “I don’t understand you or why you’re so cold but would it kill you to be nice for once in your life?”

“You don’t know anything about me, about the things I’ve seen,” he seethes, getting up and close and personal as you stare each other down face to face. “You wouldn’t even be able to comprehend it!”

“Maybe I could if you’d let me try instead of shutting me out all the time! I’m not the enemy here, Five. I want to help-“

“The last time you helped it got you killed!” He finally blurts, shoulders heaving from the ragged breaths he has to take in order to soothe himself. Your brows furrow softly in response to his sudden outburst, and you find yourself taking a step back from the boy.

“What are you talking about?”

“When I landed in the future it wasn’t just my dead siblings I saw lying there, but you, too... You tried to help them and it got you killed, and I’m trying to stop you from making the same mistake but you’re too god damn stubborn to realize it.”

“Well why the hell didn’t you just lead with that!” You exclaim exasperatedly. “I die?!”

“I bet you’re starting to regret ever meeting my idiot brother, aren’t you?”

“I started regretting things the moment I met you,” you reply with wry smile, one that Five can’t help but return. You’re pretty alright, he decides. But that doesn’t mean he likes you, so don’t get any ideas. You’re not enemies but you’re not friends, at least not yet.

“Come on, we’ve got to go before Hazel and Cha Cha realize you’re missing.”

“Yeah, she did mention something about killing me if I tried to pull anything,” you note with a shrug.

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Five replies gently, and his eyes are the most sincere you’ve ever seen them since meeting him.

“Hey, Five, I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you...” you say meekly, your face heating up slightly with embarrassment. You’re not really used to apologizing.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies with a barely visible smile. “I’m sorry, too.”

He takes your hand in his own before jumping you both back to the academy, and though there’s an impending apocalypse Five feels hopeful for the first time since his return. You’re going to be alright, he knows it, and things are going to work out just fine.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Arthur x gn!reader

Characters: Reader, Simon Pearson, Mary Linton, Arthur Morgan

Word count: 3306

Summary: You and Arthur have recently made your relationship official by moving into his tent...but is he really into you...or is he still holding onto his past?

Notes: SFW, Angst leading to fluff

After requesting several wonderful stories from one of my favourite writers and people, I was super honoured to have the chance to be able to write something for the super talented and lovely @littlestarofthewest -  Merry Christmas from your secret santa 😘😘

Also a huge thank you to @horsegirl1h (who helped me plot this out) @verai-marcel (for wrangling in all my stupid grammatical mistakes) & @mileycyprus-hill who took a quick look over this and gave me a much better character note on how to improve Arthur's feelings in this story and give me a far better title I could ever think of myself. Thank you all 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

The First Shall Be Forgotten

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find the cot next to you still empty. It was fairly late when you'd finally taken yourself off to bed last night, but you had found yourself unable to keep your eyes open as you'd sat around the scout fire. Your hope of Arthur riding back into camp and joining you in lying down for the night had turned into a wishful dream of waking up with his strong arms wrapped around you, but it turns out it was just that - merely a pleasant dream. 

It was only a few months since you'd started dating, with most of that time spent being inseparable, but lately you noticed that Arthur was staying away from camp longer and longer. Yes - the events of Blackwater had changed the gang's luck and the likes of Dutch and Strauss kept giving Arthur more and more tasks to do, but you'd felt like that most of these jobs could be done well before nightfall. Surely Arthur wasn't avoiding you because he was bored of you already….could he?

You sat upright, shaking your head free of any more of those nasty thoughts, quickly making the decision that you should get dressed and help out around camp before Miss Grimshaw marched over to berate you for wasting so much time idling about.

There was a chill floating in the air this morning in camp and so you found yourself shivering as you looked around for your light jacket. Opening your shared trunk, you proceeded to pile a mixture of both yours and Arthur's clothes on to the cot in your quest to find your missing coat. Though you soon found yourself distracted as you lifted one of Arthur's shirts up, tutting to yourself as you saw just how worn and dirt stained they all were. You swore that that man would wear these offending items until they fell apart on him...and some were close to doing so, judging by how often they'd been patched up.

   "Ah, there you are," Pearson's cheerful voice booming from behind you, making you jump out of your skin, "I need a helping hand gathering supplies in town and was wondering if you could come along with me for the ride"

   "Me? Surely there's someone more capable about?" Although Valentine was only a short ride away, the idea of being Mr. Pearson's captive audience for that short length of time was not high on your list of priorities for the day. 

   "Well, I don't know if you noticed but we are stretched a little thin on the ground right now," his hands gesturing to the almost empty camp area in front of you, "Mr. Smith & Mr. Escuella are yet to return from Blackwater with young Sean and, as you well know, Mr. Morgan is still yet to return from wherever he has took himself off to. As for the girls..." you tried to stifle a chuckle as he trailed off to glance nervously over at where Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen were currently sitting at their wagon, making sure they couldn't hear this conversation, "...I'd rather not ask them. Uncle told me of the trouble they got up to on their last visit into Valentine."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing at Pearson's fear of trying to keep three excited young women from creating chaos. "Sorry, sorry," you apologised, wiping your eyes as he looked at you with confusion, "Well...since you have no other options, I'll join you. I've been wanting to pick Arthur up a new shirt anyways." Spotting your jacket at the bottom of the truck, you quickly threw it on, leaving all the other clothes heaped on the bed, "Shall we go now then?"

"Goddamit, why does there have to be a train in the station?" you grumbled as Pearson pulled the horses to a stop at the crossing, which was blocked by one of the carriages belonging to the offending train. After being waylaid by the shop boy slowly loading the wagon with all the goods Pearson had chosen for camp - not that any of these ingredients would do much to improve his cooking, you cruelly thought to yourself - your head was starting to ache from listening to Pearson's constant tall tales. All you had wanted to do was get back to camp and sleep off your headache, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, thanks to this stupid train.

   "I know what you mean, I was hoping to get back and make a start on preparing supper," Pearson sighed before suddenly cheering up, "But, hey, at least it gives me more time to tell you about my time at sea. There was this other time..."

Internally, you found yourself groaning, trying to zone out the older man as he recounted yet another story, that this time seemed to involve him somehow, inexplicably fighting a walrus -  single-handedly -  to save his crew.

You glanced around, finding yourself admiring all the different horses hitched up around the station...until a familiar sight caught your eye.

   "Hey isn't that Brutus?" you interrupted Pearson mid-sentence, gesturing towards the big, black Shire horse that Hosea had gifted Arthur a few weeks ago. Arthur had rarely named his horses after losing his beloved Boudicca in Blackwater and was more than content to just refer to this one as "Boy", but after overhearing Hosea called this giant a brute, you'd jokingly suggested the name Brutus, a name that had tickled Arthur and agreed it was the perfect name for this beast.

Put out a little by the fact you had rudely interrupted him just as the story was getting good, Pearson grudgingly glanced over to the direction in which you were pointing.

   "Er, it does look like it. So anyway after I killed the Walrus with nothing but my bare hands…" 

   'So this is where you've gotten to Morgan,' you thought to yourself, once again not listening to Pearson's story. 'Here's hoping you're on your way home too.'

Smiling to yourself that your lover would hopefully be by your side once more, you absent-mindedly found yourself scanning the crowd of people that was starting to thin out as they slowly stepped onto the carriages...until you saw him standing with his back to you.

A smile started to creep over your face as you recognised Arthur's dirty blond hair, broad frame and filthy blue shirt. Just the fact you could see how dirty it was from this distance made you glad that you'd made the decision to buy him a new one now, as that one needed throwing out, never mind a good wash. Anybody would think that man spent most of his time rolling around in the mud than riding a horse around.

With his hands on his gun belt, he shifted his weight to one side and the smile on your face was replaced with a look of confusion as a young lady was revealed to be standing next to him, deep in an intimate conversation.

Unconsciously scowling at her, you were unable to shake the feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, but for the life of you, you couldn't quite place where.

You squinted your eyes to try and focus your vision on her delicate features before a feeling of rage bubbled up from your stomach as she kissed Arthur's cheek, in a way that suggested more than just friendship.

"And I'll tell you - I used that walrus meat to feed a crew of 50...and not one of them complained the way you and the rest of camp do about my cooking" Pearson waffled on down your ear, distracting you from your thoughts about this mysterious woman and how you wanted to jump down and throttle her. Instead you suddenly had the urge to wrap your hands around the cook's neck. 

Turning to face him, you barked, "Maybe being at sea for weeks at end with no food makes people more appreciative of the slop you always manage to serve up - no matter the ingredients." 

You instantly felt regret as the words left your mouth and you saw the hurt in the older man's eyes.

   "Christ, I'm sorry Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean to take it out on you..." You paused, thinking about telling him about what you just saw, but you doubted this old sea dog would give a damn about your love life and so explained "I just have a real bad headache and it's put me in a bad mood."

He nodded softly and turned away so you wouldn't see him wipe the sting of the tears from his eyes.

Feeling guilty from the hurt you just caused, you looked away to the source of your own pain, only to find Arthur had disappeared from the platform and the train was now pulling out the station. Had he gotten on board with his mystery woman? Gone off to start a new life with her and left you and the outlaw life behind him? These thoughts rattled around your head as Pearson told the horses to giddy up and the pair of you headed back to camp in an awkward silence.

Jumping down from the wagon, you helped Pearson unload the wagon - still with an uneasy tension in the air, before you tried to broker the peace between you both by offering to help prepare the next meal as a peace offering.

   "No, it's quite okay," Pearson patted you shoulder to show there was no hard feelings, "You go sleep off that sore head of yours"

You nodded appreciatively, finding yourself thanking him and apologising once more as you picked up the wrapped parcel containing Arthur's new shirt, and headed back to your tent. 

As you walked over, you rolled your eyes in annoyance at yourself as you caught sight of the mess you'd left behind this morning. Picking the mountain of clothes up, you threw them in straight at the trunk at the end of the cot, surprising yourself as you heard a loud clatter of something hitting the side of the chest and then dropping onto the floor.

Peering over, you saw that a few shirts and a pair of trousers had missed their target and were now scattered over the floor... alongside a wooden photoframe, laying face down on the ground, that definitely wasn't there before.

Picking it up, you recognised the image of a younger, but still very handsome version of Arthur standing on the left.

'You've always been a good-looking bastard haven't you?' half smiling as you took in his handsome features, 'No wonder you have a long list of admirers to spend all your time instead of me.'

Well before you and Arthur had started dating, you had seen this photograph before. You recalled picking it up from his bedside table back then too, in order to get a closer look of how attractive Arthur's always been.

But sometime between then and making your relationship official, Arthur must have removed it and hidden it out of sight from you. Just as you were about to ask yourself why, you spotted who else was in the picture.

   'No…no it can't be,' you thought to yourself as you stared at the beautiful, dark haired woman standing next to him in the image. But, as much as you didn’t want it to be, it certainly was. Looking straight back at you was a younger version of the same woman from the train station…the same woman who had ripped Arthur's heart out and tore it into a million pieces all those years ago when she called off their engagement - Mary.

Time seemed to slow down as your mind went into overdrive. Did he simply remove the picture as a thoughtful gesture so you wouldn't wake up to a younger Arthur and his ex-fiancee looking at you…or did he hide it because he still loved her and her alone? Were you just a stopgap - something to fill the emptiness in his heart until she came back to him? Is that the real reason Arthur had hidden the picture and not gotten rid of it completely? So once he had managed to win her back, he could toss you aside and place it once more on his bedside to stare lovingly at while he held her in his arms?

You hadn’t realise you were crying or just how hard you were gripping the frame until you heard the sudden sound of glass cracking and a mix of your blood and tears began to streak all over her stupid, perfect face. Standing frozen to the spot, you stared and stared at her image, slowly disappearing under the physical manifestations of your hurt and betrayal, until you heard Arthur bellow out your name as he rode back into camp.

   "Hey you. Boy, did I sure miss you while I was gone," he cheerfully greeted you as he strode towards you, "I tell you, there's some strange sights out there that I've been dyin' to tell you all 'bout."

   "Tell me?" you snarled, acting the wounded animal you currently felt like, "Don't you have other people you'd rather spend your time with?"

   "What? What's got into you?" 

Your heart panged as you saw the hurt cross his face as he saw how upset you were. 

"Listen, if this 'bout me spendin' so much time from camp recently, then I am sorry - but I did miss you somethin' fierce y'know" he assured you, placing his arms around your waist.

   "Just like you've missed Mary for all these years?" Just saying her name out loud felt like you had tasted venom on your lips and needed to quickly spit it out.

"Mary? Where's all this comin' from?" He flustered, averting his eyes downwards as not to meet your steely gaze. Upon seeing you holding the photograph, he exclaimed, "Christ alive, you're bleedin'. Here lemme fix you up."

"I'm fine," you snapped at him, pulling your hand away from his gentle touch. Any other time, this small act of affection - the big mean outlaw gently cradling your hand in his - would have made you melt on the spot, but today your inner rage wasn't having any of it. Instead you blurted out, "I saw you. At the train station…with her."

Realising he had been caught out and couldn't bluff his way out of this sorry mess, he sat down on the cot and tried to explain.

   "Okay, yeah, I was at the train station with her, but it really ain't what you think…"

   "I saw her kiss you."

  "You mean when she kissed my cheek? That was her sayin' goodbye. Her and her brother are headin' back East to find their father."

You sat next to him, the photograph still in your hands.

   "Still doesn't explain why you were with her in the first place."

   "No it doesn't, does it." He sighed, running his hand down his face. "I was on my way back to camp, ridin' through Valentine when I thought I'd check and see if there was any post. Lo' and behold there was just the one - a letter from Mary askin' if I could help with a small problem of hers."

   "So you must have been in contact with her if she knew you were in town."

He shook his head. "No. No, she'd recognised the girls after their last trip into town and wrote to me on the off-chance I was also in the area."

   "Why?"

"Her kid brother, Jamie, he'd gone and got himself mixed up in this weird cult up in Cumberland Forest. Christ, you shoulda seen them all listenin' on as this lunatic spouted some nonsense about turtles or somethin'," laughing, he patted his leg until he saw your stony expression still waiting for the answer to your question.

   "Get to the point please, Arthur."

   "You're right, sorry," he said as he nodded, "Jamie was the only one in her family who stood up for me and I owed it to *him*, not Mary, him -  to help get him away from those crazy fools."

You fidgeted slightly next to him. You wanted to believe him, but he seemed to be avoiding the main topic of conversation.

   "So say I believe you about your reasonings for helping her…why did you keep a picture of her?"

Silence filled the air for a second before he simply answered. "I shoved it in there so you wouldn't have to keep lookin' at it when we lay together...and I guess I forgot all 'bout it."

You looked away as more tears fell down your cheeks. Gently placing his hand under your chin, Arthur turned your face to face his, looking deep into your eyes he told you, 

   "You’re overthinking – I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

   "Prove it." You pleaded.

   "Okay then...this should show you she's nothin' to me now." He took the broken frame from your grasp and carefully removed the picture from the frame, lingering for a moment before crumpling it up in his hand and walking towards the campfire.

Though his stride was purposeful, you couldn't help but feel he faltered once more as he looked at the flames, but those fears disappeared as he turned to look back at you with a warmth in his eyes and a smile stretching wide across his face. Looking straight at you, his hand opened and the picture fell into the flames, where it lay for a few moments as it slowly rendered into nothing but a pile of ashes.

Making his way back over to you, he picked you up and spun you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

Bonus scene: Arthur's POV

He slowly removed the picture from the frame, partly being careful not to cut himself on broken shards of glass and partly because he wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. He was convinced that after Mary called it all off between them, he'd never smile, let alone love again. But then you'd walked into his life and brought light back into the darkness he'd found himself in.

But maybe there was a reason he'd held on to this photograph for all this time - a reminder of the good times that existed between them. Heartbreak has a funny way of erasing those memories, but seeing the woman you once considered the love of your life in person has an equally funny way of making those feelings rush back.

But no, the heartache he'd felt for all these years outweighed the fleeting moments of happiness he'd felt with Mary. And that kiss on the cheek to say goodbye that she'd given him at the train station? It certainly didn't give him butterflies like it used too. Looking at her image one last time, he crumpled it up and walked over to the campfire.

Though he had confidently strode over to flames, he once more had doubts he was right to finally let Mary go. Turning to face you, everything suddenly became very clear in Arthur's mind. Everything he ever wanted: someone who loved the group of people he considered family, as well as loving him for the man he was - despite his faults, someone who was willing to stick with him through thick and thin, make him laugh when he was down, and never fail to make him smile, that special someone he wanted to grow old with with...he already had that with you.

Without thinking, he opened his hand and let the battered photograph waft downwards, enveloped by the flames and turning to nothingness as he made his way back over to you, picking you up and spinning you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

[sabraeal]

Get Up Eight, Chapter 7

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Free Space

The air is sweet outside of Hiratsuka; the ocean’s salt still carries its pale sting on the breeze, but it cannot compete with the last of the spring’s harvest. The paddies are flooded still, slowly draining under the heat of the sun; wet earth weighs down the air’s sweetness, rich and full. This far into the season it is gold and green as far as the eye can see, set over a shimmering stretch of blue; a precious comb laid on silk. But this, this is finer than any gift an emperor could give his concubines. Ryo might buy jade and sapphires, but it could not buy a moment in time, experienced with all the senses of the body.

The threshing would come soon, as the end came for all beautiful things. The fields will be allowed to dry, and in weeks, this ground would lie fallow, a barren marshy plain awaiting its next use. But impermanence is a part of beauty, what made a sight such as this so precious and so dear. Just as petals fell from cherry trees, or snow sifted from the winter sky, this moment only existed in the here and now. In mere days, all of this would be gone.

Even Obi slows ahead of her, hands resting on the tight nip of his hips. Stalks spring thickly up beside the road, paddies dug so close the cobbles have sunk, curving the edges of the walkway like a scroll unfurled. He stands in the middle of it, a samurai out of a wood-block print, surveying his domain--

“Well,” he huffs, turning his chin over his shoulder. “It sure smells like shit.”

Shirayuki tries to stifle it, to keep the noise buried deep in her chest, but it’s impossible-- a laugh hiccups up between her lips, and try as she might, her sleeve doesn’t muffle it a single bit.

“What, ojou-san?” His mouth quirks at a corner, too sly for innocence. “Don’t you think so?”

Now that he mentions it...yes. That sweet earthy smell mixed with standing water gives off a fragrance that only a fly could love. The rice may be sweet on the wind and salt may still roll through with a breeze, but when the skies were quiet and her feet were still, it savored of nothing so strongly as the pies oxen dropped on the road.

Not that she’d ever give her samurai the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Surely it isn’t so bad as all that.” She takes in a large, pointed breath, and prays she won’t cough. “I only smell sweet grass.”

Both narrow brows scurry up his forehead, rumpling his scar. “Is that so, ojou-san?”

With a sharp smile he swaggers over to one of the sparse pines clinging onto the road, dropping down into a squat. “Then you won’t mind if we take our rest here?”

“W-what?” There’s barely any room for the cobbles, and none at all for two travelers trying to stay off them. And the smell...

“Come on.” He pats the muddy ground beside him; it splats beneath his palm. “This water looks healing if I do say so myself. Perfect to rest your poor feet in.”

Shirayuki casts a dubious glance over the road’s edge, knowing full well what she will find. These paddies are not freshly filled, water sparkling blue under the fair sky like in the ukiyo-e; oh no, this is a field left to drain, the water growing murkier with every day, probably rife with leeches and worse. Fine for plants, but for her poor, weeping blisters--

Well, she’d certainly collect quite a few friends putting her feet in there. They would be such a comfort before she succumbed to whatever infection stagnant water gave her. He blisters throb at the thought.

“We should keep going,” she informs him steadily. “Weren’t you just saying there was much road left to be traveled?”

At least, that had been his excuse in Hiratsuka. No time for dallying, ojou-san, he’d told her, slipping a vendor a few mon for the onigiri in her hands. We’ll have to sleep on the road if the light fades before we get to Odawara.

Obi doesn’t exactly frown; such an expression isn’t in his nature-- instead his mouth pulls to the precise width of the line she’s toeing.

“Well,” he hums his dangerous way, the sort that says only her twelve ryo stand between his hand and her cheek. His body unfurls to standing with an exaggerated slowness, a threat in every curl of his limbs. “Since ojou-san doesn’t need a break, I suppose we can walk all the way to Oiso.”

Her ronin stands across from her, kimono threadbare, hakama in hardly better shape, arms folded across his narrow chest. She knows that cock to his hip, that hint of a smirk on his face-- he expects her to fold, he expects her to beg like the delicate ojou-san she’s pretending to be.

Even wrapped tight under her tabi, the warabi loosely tied, her feet ache. Kino’s wife would plead to stop-- no, command him to. Either way, she would merely confirm what he already knew; she was a pampered fine lady, unable to keep up with the grueling pace he set. A burden he would be made to bear all the way to Kyoto.

Shirayuki shifts the sack on her back, Buddha’s hand pressing into her spine. “Fine. Let us keep going.”

Marsh bleeds into hills, the road flattening and slanting both, reeds rising up into pines. The shade is a welcome reprieve, as is the sea breeze that stirs the branches overhead and sends shadows to dance at her feet. Even as nature’s wonder presses in around her, Shirayuki cannot help but think she might be able to enjoy it better if her feet were not about to pop off at the ankle.

Oiso is hardly an hour’s walk from Hiratsuka, but every step is on needles, stabbing wherever her sole touches cobble. Still, still-- she will not relent. Surely they would see the post for the shukuba at any moment, and then she might--

“Ojou-san?” A shadow falls over her; even if she could not see the patched hem of his hakama, the scent of his sweat, clean and earthy, would give him away. His hands hover at her shoulders, steadying without touch. “Are you all right?”

“Ah!” She steps back, covering a wince with a smile. “No, no. I’m just fine. I can keep up! Oiso is only a few miles away, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He shifts back, arms folding into a forbidding bar of steel across her vision. “Do your feet hurt, ojou-san?”

His tone might be playful, a little sing-song like a child at play, but it is a knowing gaze that he wears, fixed to the hem of her kimono. She shuffles her feet, hoping they fall into shadow-- if only she had bought new tabi in Hiratsuka, she would have had a few more hours before the blood stained the new cloth. 

His breath hisses through his teeth like a palpable hit. “Ojou-san!”

Ah, so he’s seen it. That will make this conversation a hair more difficult.

“Don’t worry about me!” she yelps, sweeping away from the hands that would grab her, that would hold her in place to behold the extent of her foolishness. “It can wait until we get to Oiso-juku!”

He shakes his head, sitting back on his heels. “We’ll rest.”

Her cheeks puff out with annoyance. “Aren’t I the one who makes those decisions, samurai-dono?”

His mouth pulls thin for a moment, considering her, but the next has it bent in a bright smile. “All right then. Let’s rest. We can have some of those onigiri in your pack.”

Shirayuki longs to protest-- she did not make her way trading on feminine weakness in Yokohama, and she was not about to start here and now because this man would let her-- but her stomach growls long and loud, a beggar on its knees.

“Well,” she murmurs, looking away from that smug grin. “If you insist.”

“You know.” Obi’s fingers pluck nimbly at the twine knotted around the bamboo leaf, slipping it open with a firm tug on one end. Inside, the rice still steams, just cool enough to touch. “If you had said something, we could have stopped at Hiratsuka.”

Shirayuki looks up, her legs stretched out before her, wiggling her toes with a grimace. She spares him a raised brow, managing only a strained, “Could we have?”

His mouth opens, then closes again. Gold eyes shine almost green in the shade of the pine trees, but they drop away before she can determine whether it is merely a trick of the light. “Maybe.”

Her lips press tight as she watches him, long fingers separating one sticky triangle off from the others. “You’re worried. Did something happen...?”

At the hatago, Shirayuki assumes, but caution stills her tongue. The days she has spent with him have been long, but still-- she’s known him for only three. What trouble dogs his steps now may have been bought and paid for long before she knelt across from him in a tea house and offered twelve ryo to take her away from her own.

“Should I rewrap them?”

Her head jolts up; the amber of his eyes waits to trap her, honey-warm with curiosity. He presses the still-warm onigiri into her palm, and she-- she nearly says no. She may be smaller than him, but she’s not a child. A single rice ball would not a meal make.

But then he chucks his chin downward, toward where her feet sit bare save for the bandages.

“Oh,” she breathes, flexing them. Even that small movement sends pain lancing up her legs. “No, not yet.”

He shifts, mouth rumpled into a dubious knot. “It’s soaked through in places.”

“It’s fine.” Sour plum bursts on her tongue, rice sticking to her teeth as she tries to hurry it along. “It will take too much time to tend to now.”

If anything, his frown deepens. “I can work quick, ojou-san. You said last night that I’d done a good job.”

“I...” A frisson ran through her when he’d cupped her heel in his palm, fingers brushing over her blisters with a gentleness she had not expected from a man as rough as him. And when his hand had slid higher, gripping her calf to hold her in place-- “It can wait. Until we stop.”

Until she is sure she won’t need her legs to support her afterward.

He hums, unconvinced, but settles back onto his seat, knees crossed in front of him. If he were born to a greater station, there would be block prints of him like this, desultory and cross-legged, moments away from a war.

“Oiso is close by,” he reminds her, as if she did not tell him the same only minutes ago. “If the pain’s too much, let me know. We can always stop for the night.”

She swallows her bite of onigiri, watching him steadily. “Would you stop on your own?”

He lets out a long, annoyed breath. “No.”

“Then we’ll press on to Odawara.” She offers him a soft smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not a short walk,” he warns her, impatience creeping into his tone. “If you’re really hurting--”

“I know.” She smiles. “I’ll tell you.”

He leans back on his hands, a laugh rasping out of his throat. “I doubt that. You’d faint before you’d admit you can’t keep up.”

She lets out a huff. She can’t say it’s not true, but all the same, he doesn’t have to say it. “I--”

“Well, well.” A man emerges from the pines, lips stretched to a smile so wide that her own cheeks hurt. “Look at what we have here, boys.”

Shirayuki jumps-- not far, stretched out as she is, but enough to tuck her feet beneath her kimono, hiding the bandages. Obi’s already got his own beneath him, his knuckles bone white where they wrap around his hilt. His gaze fixes on the treeline, steady and gold, the way a tiger might watch from the long grass, and her breath catches. Obi might wear a man’s skin, but in this moment he is more wolf than warrior, a predator in the guise of its prey.

But that man doesn’t see it. He strides into the copse, blades rattling at his side, heedlessly smiling at his death. “No need for that, oni-san.”

Obi’s hilt creaks beneath his grip. “I’m not your brother.”

Her eyes blink wide, searching the strained planes of his face. This man may be a stranger, unwelcome in their company, but to be so unconscionably rude-- well, Shirayuki can hardly countenance it. Not from a man who slid goshujin through his teeth like steel bared from its sheath, a man who wielded manners as a weapon--

A man who knows that his rudeness would mark them more than submission. She’d seen what counted as fighting words when she ran the sake house; not a single bushi worth his blade would let a ronin parry their generous parity.

But still, this one only smiles. Wider now, the sharp edges of his eyeteeth cresting the ridge of his lips.

“Oh, no?” Men shuffle through the trees, the boughs obscuring their gaunt faces, but still, Shirayuki is sure-- they don’t smile like this samurai. No, ronin. He might have the paired blades wrapped at his hips, but there’s no crest on his haori, only a single long tail winding over his shoulders from the hair at his nape, instead of a bushi’s top-knot. “But we shared a drink back at the hatago, didn’t we?”

Shirayuki takes in the worn hem of this ronin’s hakama, the meticulously mended seams of his haori, the fine material his kimono had once been; none of it is familiar, nor is his face. “Obi-dono?”

Something twitches in the depths of Obi’s jaw. A flicker of recognition, perhaps, to pair with the fleet warning that lopes across his eyes.

“Having a rest, I see?” the ronin observes, edging ever closer to the clearing, his men jostling around him. Three of them, plus the headman; more than any man could manage, no matter how skilled Obi might be. “Now, we were just thinking the same thing, weren’t we?”

Tension thickens the air, and there’s no reason for it, none at all. Not unless her yojimbo is restless, eager to prove to her his prowess. It’s an exhibition that she is less than enthused to participate in, especially with these odds.

“Please.” There is no sake house for her to serve, but her old role drops over her like a mask, mouth stretching into that close-lipped smile, hiding in behind her sleeve. “Come in. I mean--” Obi stares at her, chin slowly shaking, a silent plea-- “please, come sit.”

It’s his stare-- pupils pinprick small with shock, white a thin ring all around the gold-- that reminds her that she’s still looking up. Her eyes drop, fixing to the stranger’s hands, where no dirt lingers beneath his nails, each one diligently picked and scrubbed to cleanliness. But no-- it must drop farther still, down to rest demurely on her knees. Already she's done too much, said too much; a hostess speaks to custom with ease, but a retiring ojou-san in the company of her retainer...

She would be silent. A woman ready to fade into the background as the men carried on her business.

Shirayuki shifts, rolling up to rest on her knees, head bowed. Not three days on the road, and already the role she has chosen for herself chafes.

“Well, since onee-san has been so kind.” The man saunters from the shade, crouching down to a kneel. “It would be rude to refuse.”

Obi’s jaw works, a rebuttal brewing on his lips, but she holds out a hand instead, quelling. Her palm brushes over his knee, the muscles hovering beneath her fingertips going tense, his breath caught in his chest--

And she jolts it away, letting it hover safely over him instead. Still, he lowers onto his feet, placing the blade at his side. The right side, she notes with satisfaction, until he rolls back, legs crossing at the ankle before him, hands braced on his knees. A shogun’s stance, she had thought when Kino took it, but Obi in his threadbare kimono, juban long since lost, and faded hakama...

He makes it look like trouble.

Shirayuki swallows a grimace, bowing her head over her hands. “You are too kind, oni-san--” Obi grunts, displeasure stark on his sharp face, but at least leaves his protest to that-- “please, partake in our meal as well. We have only just started.”

Obi swivels toward her, betrayal writ clear in his eyes, but there’s nothing for it. She’s already asked the headman to sit; she can’t possibly ask him to starve. Not unless Obi would like to risk these men finding them on another stretch of road, far from any shukuba, the night much closer, their minds less wary.

The ronin casts a lingering glance at the onigiri still on the leaf, his tongue tracing the barest path over his lips--

“It is you who are too kind, onee-san, by offering,” he says, the picture of well-born courtesy. “We’d be happy to. As long as you don’t mind sharing our food as well?”

Obi blinks. “Your food?”

The headman holds up a hand, and at once his ronin come forward, dropping their sacks in front of them, and--

“Oh,” Shirayuki breathes, staring at the array of bento tumbled across their makeshift camp. Thinking of what they might well find inside them, her stomach shivers, just short of making its anticipation known. “Well, if you insist...”

As each lid springs open on the men’s hakubento, a feast spills forth: rolled egg and minced fish cakes, soy bears and boiled lotus, taro and shiitake. One has whole, simmered shrimp with pickled ginger, and the water in her mouth nearly leaks out at the sight of it.

“So much,” Shirayuki murmurs, palms pressed flat to her thighs. “Where did you get it all?”

“The hatago.” The ronin’s mouth lifts at a corner, gaze darting to where Obi sits beside her, stiff. “I’m surprised your man didn’t have them pack one for you.”

She resists looking at him, just waits until he’s finished his sticky bite of onigiri to say, “We were in a hurry.”

The ronin’s reply is a sly flash of teeth. “Hope you made it where you were going.”

Obi settles back onto his heels. “Not fast enough.”

It’s an answer made to be muttered, but Obi enunciates every syllable clearly, punctuating it with an insolent lift of his gaze, meeting the man’s with a pointed finality. It’s her first instinct to scold him, the way she might with Kino-san when he acted out of turn, but her breath catches in her chest.

She would do that. Her, a girl raised beneath the bar of a sake house, used to putting men in their place before they reached too far out of it. But a young ojou-san, naive to the ways of the world-- she would sit silent, letting the men speak their piece. If a fight broke out, she might scream, covering her fear with her sleeves, and hope for the best. Ah, never has she been so ill-suited for a role before. 

It doesn’t matter in the end; the ronin only twitches his mouth to mark it before turning to her, smile firmly seated on his lips.

“I’m the headman of this outfit.” The man pats his chest, drawing her attention back to the fine material worn thin, to the juban that is still meticulously white when it has not yellowed at the collar. “They call me Mihaya.”

No family name, she notes. That’s fine enough for her. “And I’m Shirayuki.”

She casts a pointed glance toward Obi, willing him to show one glimmer of the respect he pays every other creature that’s made their acquaintance, but he makes no move to introduce himself. Instead he only reaches forward, past all the fine foods Mihaya’s men have provided, and picks up the last of their onigiri.

“Are you going to have this, ojou-san?” he asks, so mild. “Or should I?”

She draws in a deep, steadying breath. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine with sharing with the others.”

His lip juts at that, sullen, but it disappears behind a sharp smile. “Well then, more for me.”

Her only solace in his rudeness is that at least Mihaya’s companions return with the same, too busy stuffing their mouths to pay attention to propriety. Even with such fine bento as these, they dig into each box like men who haven’t eaten in days instead of mere hours ago.

“You must be from around here.”

Shirayuki startles, attention whipping back toward where the headman sits smiling, one hand brace on his knee. “Since you’re traveling south, I mean. Unless you’re traveling back home, onee-san?”

“Oh, no. I’m from--” Obi’s warning glance stills her too-honest response-- “not so far away.”

“Thought so.” There’s a conspiratorial sparkle in his eye as he leans toward her. “I don’t see many of your kind on the road, at least not without an entourage.”

“Oh.” Her fingers clench in her kimono, keeping her seated. She should have thought of that; a girl from a family with money to spare would have sent her with a handful of men, carrying her from Edo to Kyoto slung like precious cargo between them. “I thought-- I mean, my grandfather thought traveling with one guard would draw less attention than a dozen.”

“Might keep more eyes off you, sure,” Mihaya agrees, crunching on a slice of taro. “But it’s safer to have more men when the roads get...rough. You get set on by bandits, and one sword won’t do you much good, onee-san.”

“Is that so?” she asks mildly. “I thought-- what is the saying? Having a single, well-made blade is better than a thousand that will break on the first strike.”

Obi coughs.

“True enough, onee-san.” The headman’s smile wears thinner with each word. “And it’s so much harder to find quality nowadays.”

They have only known each other this past hour, but already, Shirayuki finds little quarrel with Mihaya or his manners; at least, not as much as she does with Obi and his, but still--

Still, she mislikes the smug glance he cuts toward Obi, his gaze raking up his worn and well-mended clothes, the lack of his juban, and clearly, clearly-- finding him wanting.

“For some.” There’s a bite to her voice that surprises her, but she likes it. “I am fortunate indeed to have found such an exemplary bushi as Obi. I could hardly wish for better.”

Mihaya’s expression crumples like a paper lantern in the rain. “I’m sure--”

“Where are you from, Mihaya-san?” she interjects; the last thing they need is to have this rest spoiled by this odd hostility between headman and yojimbo. Especially if it might force her to admit she’s only had her exemplary guard for all of two days. “You don’t sound like a man from Edo.”

A dark shadow flits over his face, like a cloud passing over the sun, gone before she’s ever truly seen it. “Here and there.”

The west, his accent says, though it’s too crisp to be from any common man. Just like his clothes, his voice betrays him. Still, there’s no reason to push; plenty of men have left their domains these days. With tension between the shogun and emperor--

Well, Shirayuki wouldn’t want to be a man with a blade in hand. Samurai had once lived and died by the sword before the shogun wrenched the domains beneath him and brought an end to the warring states. But with all the silken pillows being pulled from beneath the tender seats of the daimyo, blades rattle in their sheaths, threatening its return.

“Where are you off to, onee-san?” Mihaya’s smile is brittle as he sits back, eyes casting her a hooded, measuring glance. “Not all the way to Kyoto I hope.”

Obi shifts, restless beside her. Her fingers sweep out subtly between them, thumb and small finger spanning the gap. It stills him, but not his grunt, wary and dissatisfied. Too cautious, her yojimbo. To avoid so obvious a question only means she has something to hide.

And she does, she does, but none of these men need to know it. Let them think her a loose-lipped ojou-san, if they wished. Better than a girl with no family and a dozen ryo in her bag, with only one guard to keep her safe. “I am.”

Mihaya whistles, long and low, impressed. “That’s a long journey for an ojou-san like yourself. What’s so important in Kyoto?”

“Ah...” A cousin, she should say. That’s what she told Obi, after all, and one story was easier to keep track of than a dozen. But still, there’s something in the headman’s eyes that demands more, than makes a cousin seem a pale prize to crawl across a country for.

“A husband,” Obi offers, so easy. “Arranged. You know how these things are. Ryo flows through fingers easy enough, but blood binds. Man’s eager to have her too.”

“A girl as pretty as this one?” Mihaya laughs, giving her a demonstrative glance. “I can believe it.”

“How about you, Mihaya-san?” she asks, if only to keep from more speculation. “Where are you and your men heading?”

“Funny you should ask, onee-san.” His mouth twitches, almost triumphant. “Kyoto. Just like you are.”

[claralaclarividente-fics]

Life is Dream: A Rosegarden story

Chapter 1- Once Upon A Time

Ruby’s eyes watered as the crisp air breezed in front of her face as she fell.

She had watched as her two teammates swooped down the void, only to be swallowed by a golden glimmer. By then, time had slowed down, and she thought about what could happen. Only to be eclipsed by the thought of her sister alone, wherever she might have ended up, waiting for her.

The battle had been arduous, and she had had a hard time tracking down her friends’ whereabouts during most of it, but when it had all quieted down, when Nora had placed a hand on her shoulder with a million questions in her blue eyes, the roar of the answer thumped in her ears.

Penny had understood right there and then, hugging her friends one by one- ‘do what you have to do.’

Jaune nodded gravely, thinking that if he were in their position, he’d do anything to bring his teammates back. ‘We’ll take it from here on out.’

There was no guidance, no certainty of what could happen, of what laid beyond the darkness. But Blake was trembling, her grasp on Gambol Shroud whitening her knuckles. Weiss held on Blake, afraid she might jump alone.

The decision had been made.

A tingling sensation distracted her thoughts, and with a rueful wonder she realized golden shimmers began to dance on her skin.

‘This is it, then.’ She barely had the ability to think before lighting gold consumed her. She felt herself fall asleep and tiredly closed her eyes.

Oscar opened his eyes at the insistence of Emerald. She had probably been trying to shake him awake for a while now judging by the tender expression she tried to conceal with fake annoyance.

Sitting up on his bed, he noticed that the quarters he shared with the rest of his team was empty.

The sunlight streamed harshly through the willowing blinds, telling him that it was way too late to be sleeping.

“Should have woken you up earlier but you nearly fell asleep on your dinner last night, so we thought it would be better to let you sleep in a bit more.” She explained as she slid open her Scroll, checking the itinerary for the day.

Mind still heavy with sleep, Oscar placed his bare feet on the cold floor. The frigid clay under his soles roused him enough so he began mentally preparing for the day.

“What have we got today on the agenda?”

Emerald rolled her eyes and thrusted a paper bag into the teen’s hands.

“Breakfast rolls with honey. Seriously Oscar, you barely ate last night and now you’re insisting on intermittent fasting? This is why even Little Red’s taller than you!” She jeered at his sudden bouts of sleepiness over the past month.

Oscar smiled, pained. Everyone up until now had been walking on eggshells regarding team RWBY, hushing down when they mentioned them, fearing guilt and sadness. But Emerald, who in her pragmatism did what had to be done, and said what needed to be said, did not care too much about being gentle with expectations.

It was weird. A month had passed since the exodus from Mantle and Atlas, and the remaining members of team JNPR were crestfallen, yet tried to ignore the growing negativity stemming in their hearts. They treated Oscar with care, trying to ignore the four missing links in their lives.

Surprisingly, Emerald and Penny were the only ones keeping hope.

Penny was hopeful and reverent. She had been made of alloy, bolts and dolts. But now she wore shoes, sand was annoying, and she could taste food. Anything was possible in this wide world of theirs.

For Emerald, it was more about seeing impossible feats of ancient wonder, something in her ears whispering that there were more incredible feats of magic to be revealed in her time alive. She felt that third chances in life were rare, and thus, grasped at its stray hairs strongly.

So they stuck by Oscar as the task of repatriation began at dawn and ended at dusk.

It had been a grueling month at Vacuo, nobody was happy to have the Atlesians in their land. The citizens of Mantle fared better, they had been humbled when they huddled close together back at the crater in the Motherland. But the Atlas elite? They could not wait for Mistrali ships to come in hoards to get them to colder ground. They revolted, nothing was up to their elevated standards.

But Theodore was nothing but pragmatic, as all Vacuans were, and a night off in the deserts shut the bunch of them up. The ones who made it back that is.

“Alright, I’ll stuff my face with honeyed bread rolls and spiced tea if it makes you happy.” Conceded Oscar after he tied up his boots and threw on the airy cotton cape on his shoulders. He had decided on a lighter fabric for his stay in Vacuo, the gauzy green tunic emboldened with red and white trimmings, and his loose cotton pants were good enough for the mighty sun that beat on the roofs of the deserts.

Emerald smiled despite herself. She and Penny had taken on the big sister role whenever Nora wasn’t there to mother Oscar to hell and back. It had taken some time to get used to, but for anyone that was not privy to the Fall of Beacon, Emerald was just Oscar’s older sister, who emerged at the Fall of Atlas.

Over the course of the weeks she proved herself, as a true Vacuan, and as a true ally.

“C´mon then. There’s a bunch of convoy ships from Argus and Vale willing to take in some snooty idiots in exchange of supplies. Don’t make Nora wait for you more, she’s missed on her hugging quota for the morning.” With a pat on his head, Emerald walked Oscar to the door, and off they were.

The day blurred by Oscar’s eyes, now and again stifling an inconvenient yawn, but nevertheless, persisted during the course of his workday.

Every day there were less Atlesians to send off, and less Mantle citizens who wanted to leave. Like May tended to say, Mantle knows how to show their teeth.

The migratory system they had built recorded every single citizen that wanted to leave or stay under Theodore’s watchful eye. The controls were harsh since there was no way to know if Neopolitan had blended into the crowd at all. Given that Emerald told Theodore and every staff member in Shade that they were to expect Tyrian and Mercury sooner rather than later, security had been the top priority these days.

In between tending to the wounded and sick, delivering supply packets to the tents of refugees, and breaking up fights, Oscar was beat by dusk.

By that time, Theodore insisted Oscar to keep their sparring sessions until he felt that Oscar moved and fought with more fluidity than the day before.

“Squirt,” Theodore would say, “I know Oz has taught you some things, but he was a dandy and thought that battle was graceful matter.” The rippled headmaster would flex and show him how merciless battle was.

Under the strongman’s tutelage, Oscar’s body ached and grew. With Ozpin’s mentoring in his head, his magic grew and he felt something inside of his soul bubble to the surface.

But at the end of the day, when Jaune was sitting right by his side, and Nora was babbling a ten miles per second into his hearing canal, he felt his shoulders drop their tension. He shot a thankful glance at Ren, who was casually conversing with Emerald, but still kept an eye on the youngest of their group. Penny and Nora, two ginger parakeets with insurmountable force and joy lulled his thoughts, until he sagged forward and faceplanted in his tomato soup.

The resounding splash alerted Jaune who quickly pulled Oscar’s face from the cold soup by grabbing him by the collar of his tunic. Oscar’s lack of reaction, and his fluttering eyelids greeted the blond huntsman, flooding him with worry.

The chatter died.

Nora leaned the boy to her side and grabbed his tanned cheeks, wet with stock, and panicked at his quivering eyelids.

Semi-conscious as he were, Oscar saw the motions at the table like photographs forming a standstill gallery inside his mind, the sounds dull and his feeling numb.

Nora and Emerald crowding over him, worried expressions marring his face.

Penny and her cold hands framing his cheeks, her confused expression.

Jaune’s golden aura around his vision as it tunneled.

Lastly, Theodore’s frown before he closed his eyes and tumbled into sleep.

__________________________________________

Ruby tumbled out of bed confused.

Her heartbeat alert and scared, her eyes darted to the four walls surrounding her. Sweet and spices reached her nose, the colourful walls held handmade tapestries and idyllic paintings. The rug that had cushioned her fall was fluffy, and the blanket tangling in her legs felt like a familiar hug.

“Where am I?”

Ruby struggled to stand up, and once she did, she gasped at herself.

In front of her, a mirror held her image. But it was all wrong. She wore a frilly white dress, with white stockings, red lace and ribbons, and her hair was tied in two tiny pigtails. She looked adorable.

And she hated it.

“Where’s-“ she looked at the nearest wardrove, and opened its doors as fast as she could. Rifling through the cutesy dresses, she was taken aback by a familiar skirt.

Holding the black dress with the black combat skirt, she wondered how her Beacon outfit appeared in the room she was in.

She stopped dead on her tracks.

“I’m not in Atlas anymore, am I?”

Clutching the dress to her chest, she slid down to the carpeted floor. She felt a bubble of panic come over her as she remembered the last events of her life.

“Right, Neo struck Yang, and Yang… She fell. We fought Cinder. And she died. I think. Then we…jumped.”

Ruby looked her hands over, turning them this way and that, as if they were given to change at any moment now.

“And-“ Ruby wheezed, close to hyperventilation. She trembled as she remembered flashes of the fight against Cinder, how Blake evolved her Semblance and fought as three copies of herself, about Neo striking the wrong Blake, and being fallen by the original one. Cinder taunting how she used Jinn, revealing their plans. Penny fell to the golden plateau, and then in a fit of rage, silver.

No more Cinder. Probably.

Her heart running like a wild animal under her chest, she took deep breaths as she tried to calm down. She rubbed the black fabric between her thumb and pointer finger, the texture was light to the touch. In the bottom frill, she found her name embroidered by her own hand. It was supposed to be comforting, but it only fueled her confusion.

A few tears threatened to spill, but then several knocks on the door startled her.

“Darling! Breakfast is ready!” a familiar voice called out to her outside the door.

In a haze, Ruby stood up and let the dress fall from her hands. She marched to the door and opened it in a swift motion, scaring the poor woman in front of it.

“Little Red! What sort of behaviour is this!?” An old woman that looked and sounded like María Calavera chided her, hands on her hips as she glowered annoyed at the teen.

“María! It’s you!” Elated, Ruby swooped in to hug the woman, who patted her back confusedly.

“Oh dear, now you’re calling your grandma by her first name too! Did you hit your head when you woke up this morning? What’s wrong with you?” Not-María held Ruby at arms length, checking her head for any injuries.

“Huh?”

Not-quite-María tutted, before guiding Ruby by the hand to the kitchen area of the cottage they seemed to be in.

“Little Red, you seldom ever visit me, and now you’re calling me by my name! Your mother hasn’t been disciplining you as she should!”

More confused than ever, Ruby sat on the stool offered by Not-Really-María.

The old woman sighed before plopping a plate of sausages, beans with crema and tortillas in front of her.

“Repeat after me, Little Red: Abuela María. Ah..Boo-Eh-Lah. Abuela.” Ruby looked at Abuela María in mild shock.

“Abuela?”

The Abuela María nodded satisfied and patted her hand.

“Now, after we finish mending that cape of yours, please give this basket of goodies to your mother for me. Oh! And thank her for the nice fabrics she sent with you, will you?”

Still starstruck, Ruby stared at Abuela María, not yet understanding anything that was happening in front of her.

“My…mother?”

Abuela María nodded, quite exasperatedly at her not-quite-granddaughter. She flipped her gray-haired braid over her shoulder and began repairing the red cape as she mumbled about ‘youth these days’.

“Yes, dear. Summer Rose. My daughter, your mother.”

More confused than anything, Ruby brought her hand up and mercilessly slapped her cheek. Abuela María looked at Ruby curiously, halting her sewing for a moment before resuming.

“But-but!” Ruby stuttered, holding her stinging cheek under her palm. “We don’t look anything alike!”

“My dear!” began Abuela María. “Silver eyes run in our family! Look!”

Abuela María removed her thick rimmed glasses and pointed at her eyes.

But all Ruby could see was a puckered red bruise, swollen and hurt. It slashed from her right temple to her left, there was not much to be said about eyes, as there were none.

Feeling not quite in a dream, but more in a bizarre nightmare, she stood up, the wooden stool clattering behind her.

Abuela María, with her glasses still removed and acting normally, bit off the last thread on the eye of her needle and folded the red cape neatly, offering it to Ruby.

Smiling sweetly, but with her disturbing red scarring across her visage, she gifted Ruby a basket filled with fruits, cheeses and breads, and pushed her through the cabin’s threshold.

Ruby looked petrified at the old lady that looked like her mentor but was nothing like her.

“Take this basket to your mother, will you? Be careful of the Big Bad Wolf, don’t let it bite you!”

Laughing merrily, the old woman closed the door on Ruby, leaving her alone in the cabin’s porch.

Jarred and perturbed, Ruby walked away from the cabin thoughtlessly, and into the winding roads that crossed the forest.

Only once she reached a small ravine, did she sit on the forest floor and pushed to her face the cape that smelled like home, like Yang and Qrow and Weiss and Blake and everyone she knew, did she weep.

For the longest time she cried, but after a while she felt her tears dry up, her shoulders stopped their heaving, and her heart dulled to a somber beat.

Ruby wiped her tears with the cape and splashed her face with the cool water from the ravine. She looked at her reflection, and disliking the pigtails pulling the hair at her nape, she tugged at the elastics and ruffled her hair. She bunched the skirt in her fists.

Annoyed at her dress, she looked down to it expecting to see white ruffles on white lace, she was caught off guard when she found herself wearing a black version of the dress she had woken up into.

As much as she marveled at this feat of reality writing itself, she feared it.

Taking one last look at her reflection, and tugging on the hood on her cape, she trudged into the deep forest, following the map she was given and hoped for the best.

[jaeminscoffee]

Nemesis (m.)

Nemesis- a formidable rival or opponent.

Pairing- Seo Johnny x reader

Genre- Smut.

Word count- 3.68k (these just keep getting longer)

Warnings- rough sex (is it a Lyra smut if this isn't included), edging, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), size kink, masochism, unprotected sex, begging, Johnny is cocky af. Could be more but i have no clue pfft.

Summary- From your local club, you find yourself in Johnny's bed

You hated Johnny. No, let's rephrase that. 

You hated Johnny's guts. Having him around always made you the second spotlight of the performance. Doesn't matter where, wherever Johnny goes, people swoon over him like a bunch of wasps. Granted, He's got everything a girl could ask for. Looks, attitude, sweet talks, money, body, you name it. 

You had them all too, but Johnny's popularity made you the centre of attention, that is, after him. 

You would've been fine with that if it weren't for his tauntings. He's inevitable. He's everywhere you go. 

You, till date don't know what the universe has against you, but the pair of you got accepted into the same university, the same company, even the same branch. There too, you're the second, Johnny's the ace. 

So having had to hear 'Johnny this' 'Johnny that' 'oh look Johnny's this' had you fuming by the weekend. And here, you've found yourself in the club, two of your girlfriends beside you, trying to calm your about to erupt veins. 

You felt a little free here, maybe even conceited. No Johnny, you had the spotlight. Oh and you knew it. You'd specially picked out your best club outfit, low cut v-neck, the black fabric barely reaching down your ass, tight fitting, highlighting all of your best features. 

Eyes followed every single move of your body as you vibe on the dance floor, letting loose of all previous tension. With your friends beside you, rooting for you, it was perfect. 

It was only after you'd worn yourselves out, you walk towards the bar, each sitting on one of the bar stools, ordering a drink, you hear your friend's fangirl over some guy or girl, could be any them. You down shots after shots, not paying attention to your surroundings feeling way better than you'd felt the entire week. 

"Yo, he just winked in our direction" Stella said from beside you, continuously hitting your arm as you slightly shove her to the side, "One of us is gonna get some action today and i hope it's Y/n" Lola exclaimed, wriggling her eyebrows at you. 

You give her disgusted glare, chuckling as she kept going with her eyebrows. 

"Eesh" you rasp out, feeling the alcohol start to burn your throat. "Why would you even want that" you inquire, Lola turned towards you dramatically, placing her hand on your shoulder, "Because, you look like a sad hot mess, darling. That can't do" she stated, "Agreed" Stella remarked, eyes still undressing the guy she previously mentioned, maybe even the other guys in the room.

"What? No? I look fine?" you say, more like questioning yourself. "you look fine as fuck and sad. So stop wasting yourself here and go get some" Lola retorted, patting your back and then mixing herself up with the crowd. 

"Yeah you see Y/n? I think this guy's absolutely perfect for you" Stella said, once the both of you stood up to go up to the dance floor again. "Which one?" you ask, eyeing the entire place quick, not actually caring. 

She smiled sweetly at you, turning you around, and pushing you with all the force she could muster up. 

"What the fuck-" you exclaim, feeling your body collide with someone. "-That one, babe, have fun!" she said in a singsong voice, joining Lola. 

"I'm sorry-" you look up to the body you just crashed with, feeling yourself turn solid from spite. Why does he appear every fucking where?

"Johnny." you sneered, pulling yourself out of his grip, dusting invisible lint from your dress. The lad in front of you did nothing but smirk, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss there, taking you off guard. "Y/n." he responded. 

As much as you hated him, you felt yourself drowning in his honey eyes, the party lights in the club making him look ethereal, pulling you out of your facade for a second, before you step out of it, glaring at him again. "Here alone?" he inquired. 

"None of your business" you said, comically as he'd have clearly seen you with two other girls. 

"I see, What got you here?" he further asked. 

"None of your fucking business." you hiss. Johnny let out an airy chuckle, "Aren't you in a bad mood" he asked. "Does that have anything to do with you" you ask through gritted teeth. 

"Practically, no. But I need to make sure if my runners-up is doing fine or not" he said, double tapping your cheeks with his palm. You felt the coldness you previously had melt down, replacing it with nothing more than pure hatred and annoyance. 

"Fuck you, Seo." you reply in a tight voice. "Oh, she's getting annoyed, isn't she?" he said, voice teasing clearly trying to get up your nerves. 

"No." you retort, turning back wanting nothing but to leave the room in order to not breathe the same air as Johnny. "Really, doll?" Johnny asked, bending down to look at you straight in the eye. It felt intriguing, you were drawn to his gaze, trying to break out but to no avail. You look away, clearing your throat, looking back at him. "Yes." you say. Johnny walked closer, "Say.. Does my presence annoy you?" he inquired, obviously knowing the answer, "Yes.." You said, lowly due to the proximity. 

"Then why aren't you walking away?" he asked, you let out a sigh, knowing even if you want to walk away, your friends won't take that well. "Because I can't," you reply, gesturing at your two friends standing still, watching your exchange of words. He looked at them, then back at you with a smirk on his face. 

"I see. That's good. Because I've been dying to tell you this one thing" he moved closer, pushing your hair back, pulling you close by the waist, leaning into your ears, 

"I've got this strong urge to rip that dress and fuck your attitude out of you." 

-x-

That's how after a 10 minute ride, you find yourself, flat against Johnny's wall, hands on either side of your face as the lad didn't fail to explore even one corner of your mouth. 

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, he looked extremely appealing. That sentence he'd spoken had gotten you all weak in the knees, palms flat against his chest, as you immediately pressed your lips against his at the club. 

This was another thing you hated about him. He's just so fucking fine not even incubus or other sex gods could say no to anything he says. 

You try breaking away from his grip on your hands, wanting desperately to touch him, feel him. 

"Stop squirming." he said sternly, breaking the intense kiss having a string of saliva connect the lips still. His eyes roaming all over your body, technically eye fucking you. 

"Then let me fucking go" you roared, chest heaving from the previous make out, breathing in the air containing his manly musk. Johnny's head made his way towards the side of your face, nuzzling on the flesh before retorting to your earlobe, nibbling on it, you hear him hum. "Hm, why should i do that, doll?" his voice deep. 

"Do you need a fucking reason to let me go?" you ask, rubbing your thighs together, his height making you feel extremely small, turning you on incredibly. 

"If you want the dick better watch your attitude baby, i don't like brats." he replied, biting down on the skin of your neck, making you hiss slightly. 

"Does it seem like i care-ah!" you yelp, feeling yourself get lifted off the floor, you look at him. 

"Behave." he said slow, having the freedom of moving your hands now you immediately pulled his head closer to yours, locking his lips with yours, biting down on his bottom lips. 

He broke away first. Looking at you with nothing but shock and lust. 

"I get what i want, Seo. You don't tell me to behave" you remark, a smirk evident on your face. You hear him let out a chuckle as you felt yourself being thrown down onto the bed. "Not with me baby, you behave, you get what you want. Act like a fucking brat i won't hesitate to put you in your place." his eyes had gone dark, voice dangerously low. 

Johnny made his way towards the bed, shirt already disposed along with his black denim jacket, he eyed your spread our body, admiring each and every curve as you gawk at his toned middle, chest chiselled adding onto why Johnny Seo is oh so perfect. The anger you felt, turning into pure lust, desire of wanting nothing more than for him to ruin you. 

"Behave you say, well you're in for a long ride, Seo. I don't like behaving" you taunt, sending a wink in his direction, moving back the bed as he crawled forward towards you. 

His demeanor was intimidating as he stared down at you with his cold eyes catching your ankle stopping you from crawling further up.

"I shouldn't even give you anything with that attitude of yours, baby." he said, pulling his body over yours, placing hands on either sides of your face, weighing his body down in order to not crush your bones.

"You're saying that cause you know you can't satisfy my needs. Poor baby boy," you feign empathy, running the back of your fingers down his face slowly, feeling his jaws clench.

With one pull, he had himself seated towards the edge of the bed, with you on the floor in front of him, seated between his legs, looking down at the floor as you try calming yourself from the sudden movement.

You felt hands grip your hair, pulling it back, forcing you to look up into his eyes. They were now void of any emotion. It scared you the slightest, but you didn't show it.

"When i said behave. You should've fucking listened, brat." he said, voice dripping venom, making your clench your thighs together, the feeling of vulnerability and how small you felt, made you needier than intended. 

His grip on your hair wasn't soft, your roots felt like they'd detach any second, but you enjoyed every second of the pain. 

You open your mouth to make another cocky retort, when the force of the tug intensified. "Better shut your little mouth and put it for another use." he said, pulling you in closer, his pants discarded behind you as the red angry shaft his toned stomach, the red tip dripping precum making your mouth water, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening.

He looked at you with a demanding look, eyes narrowed as you look up at him, eyes basically begging. 

"Suck." is all it took, and you pounce at his member, earning a throaty groan from Johnny. You start at the tip, licking the slit, clearing of all the white substance there, then slowly wrapping your lips around the head, sucking in gently, wanting to tease him as much as possible. 

Johnny rested both his hands on your head, pulling the hair back in a makeshift ponytail, trying to push your head further down.

"Stop teasing or you'll j-just make it worse for yourse-fuck.." he couldn't complete his sentence as you lower down completely, almost till the base, before pulling away feeling the head hit the back of your throat, activating your gag reflex. 

Not letting you pull away fully, he pushed you back down, mouth open ajar, hitting your throat again, resulting in tears forming in your eyes. 

You bop your head up and down, "That's right baby, uh-" he inhaled sharply as you hollow your cheeks, sucking in too hard. 

You kept moving your head up and down, Johnny setting the pace with his hands still on your hair. You feel your jaws starting to hurt, neck starting to cramp a bit so you move your head faster, desperate to get him to his orgasm. But he had other plans. 

You reach out between his thighs, still sucking and licking on the shaft, hands palming his palms, causing him to jerk his hips forward. 

"Fuck Y/n stop" he tapped your cheeks as he felt his high approaching, but you didn't stop, rather you started bopping your heas faster, with more aggression.

"Ah! s-stop" he said, growing sensitive having his orgasm just by the doorstep. 

Seconds before reaching his high, he tore you away from his dick with a sharp pull, causing you to hiss in pain, and whine in desperation of wanting to taste him. 

You sat there still, wiping your mouth as drool had managed to escape amidst the blowjob while Johnny sat by the bed, looking at the floor trying to catch his breath. 

Once calm and normal, he looked up at you, eyes burning with anger and lust. 

He got up from the bed, while you stayed seated on the floor, making his way towards you with slow, agonizing steps.

"When i say stop.." he took a step forward, the anger in his eyes scaring you completely, making you crawl back. 

"You stop." he took another step forward, you moving backwards. 

"Then tell me. Why didn't you." he bellowed.

You stop your chest from heaving that fast, as he keeps moving forward, you soon find your back hit the wall, nowhere else to escape. 

"Because i didn't want to" you rasp out. 

Johnny took one large step forward, bending down, wrapping his fingers around your throat, standing up, pulling you by your neck, causing you to stand up along with him. 

"You are such a fucking brat.." he rasped out through grit teeth, jaw tense. 

He tightened the grip, moving closer as his figure towered yours, "You look so small, yet you have that attitude. Fucking respectable" he roared pulling you along and throwing you onto the bed the second time. You let out the breath you didn't know you holding in, eyes shut tight, opening once you regained the oxygen he'd cut off a few seconds away. 

Johnny moved up to you, pulling your body towards the edge, ripping your dress off your body, the material of your panties being ripped into two too, as you moan silently at his sudden aggression.

"You're so fucking wet, just like a good little slut. But nope she has to have a fucking attitude" he said, shoving two fingers straight into your core without a warning, causing you to scream. Your juices splattered around from the movement of his fingers, squelching noises produced by how wet you are as Johnny showed no signs in slowing down. 

"John oh!" you moan out. 

His fingers were knuckle deep inside you, curling and pumping in again, brushing the soft spot. You jerk forward, hips moving along his fingers as he pressed the pad of his thumb onto your clit, driving you closer towards the edge. "Mm fuck.. " your voice small, feeling yourself clench around his fingers at the thought of being completely in his mercy. And oh is he merciless. 

"Oh? You seem close, right, pretty doll?" he questioned. You were unable to answer as his fingers moved faster and faster, not able to form a comprehend able sentence only letting out lewd noises. 

His free hand came flat down on your clit, causing you to jerk forward, "Fucking answer me." he resumed playing with your clit. Your knuckles turned white from how hard you were gripping the sheets. "y-yes, i..oh fuck.. I am!" your face contort out of pleasure, feeling the orgasm just two steps away, immediately fading away as Johnny removed his fingers from in you. 

"Come on!" you cry out, feeling your high go further and further away. 

"Hm? What happened baby?" he said, face portraying fake sympathy. 

"Johnny, I was so close!" you let out a sob, unknown to the fact that tears had started falling. You hear him let out laugh, "Yeah you made that clear, didn't know your pussy that strong" he replied, removing the last piece of clothing article from your body, both of your bodies covered in sweat, glistening the light reflecting from the window. 

"Johnny.. Please" you desperately try voicing out, wanting nothing more than a release. "oh she can beg! Pleasant surprise" he marveled. "Say, will you behave?" he asked, eyes narrowed looking at you as you let out a chain of sobs. 

"No if you can't make me fucking cum-" you scream out before being able to complete the sentence, his fingers shoved back into you. 

You were sensitive, shitless, your walls hurt and your orgasm denial was still fresh. "So being treated as a slut it is." he grunted, moving his fingers in an inhumanly pace, his other hand over your waist, holding you down flat onto the sheets as you grip that hand in a tight hold. 

"Oh fuck.." your breathing fastened, feeling the previous orgasm come back to life. 

"you look so fucking good, so small, so desperate for me" Johnny added pressure back onto your clit, rubbing fast circles. 

"Ah!" you yelp when you feel him add a third fingering, curling and twisting inside of you, as you feel yourself reaching your high. You let a cry, orgasm almost there, but one last shove and he removed his finger, leaving your core desperate and pulsating. 

"Johnny please!" you cry out louder, tears pouring down your cheeks faster as you grip onto his hands. He looked at you with a smirk on his face. 

"Want to cum?" he asked, shoving his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices off of it. 

"Yes! Oh yes please!" you reply, nodding your head frantically. 

Johnny acted as though he was thinking for a while, "Well.." he started. 

"You gotta work for it babe" he placed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. "So. Be a good little girl and beg for my dick." he said, seeing you all fucked up, hair all over the place, lipstick smudge, tears running down your face and so small, vulnerable yet you looked gorgeous. 

Now you see, all the rationality you'd previously had was all thrown out the window. You wanted the release. You needed that release. 

"Please, please fuck me Johnny, i promise I'll be a good girl! Just.. Please put your dick inside me, I swear I feel good!" you cry out, spreading your legs further open, as he sees your core glistening. Johnny let out a low growl, wasting not a second, holding you by your hip as you aligned himself by your entrance, the tip poking in. 

He looked at you, seeing you stare back at him, and kept his eyes on you as he pushed in all the way, watching your face contort out of pleasure and maybe the slightest mix of pain. 

"You're fucking right, princess-" he started, pulling his member out completely, before shoving it in, you scream, extremely sensitive but nothing you couldn't take.

"You feel extremely good. So fucking tight" his pace was fast, hips steady, no signs of it going sloppy anytime soon. Your orgasm was fast approaching, the build up begging you for it to be released, he pushed in further, leaning down and capturing your lips in a slow kiss in contrast to the pace of his hips. 

"Joh-n.. I'm g-gonna.. fuck!" you couldn't complete the sentence yet the message was delivered. "Let go baby, it's fine" he said, going faster, rubbing circles onto your clit to encourage your orgasm. 

You cum with a loud moan, clenching around him, trying to shut your legs close from the intensity of the orgasm, but his legs in between stopped you from doing that. 

Johnny slowed down for a movement to help you calm a bit but not stopping completely. Growing impatient as you take your own sweet time to calm down, he gripped your thigh from the bottom, lifting it up to let your leg dangle off his shoulder.

He started fast again, your clenching pulling him closer and closer towards the edge.

You pant heavily, "Johnny i can't.." sensitive from all the edging and the high that not even a second ago. Causing a faint pain in your core, getting you all worked up ready for your second orgasm again. 

Oh how you were a sucker for pain. 

"Yes you can. And you will" he said, going deeper, slowed to feel each and every inch of your inside, feeling you clench around him again. 

"Shit.." Johnny rasped out, feeling his high approaching from your constant pressure on his member.

He went faster, the only sounds in the room being those inhuman sounds coming from both of you, skin slapping and the sound of your wet core being pounded at. 

"Johnny!" your voice wobbly from all the cries and moans, clenching around him faster wanting him to cum faster and get this over with. 

"Fuck baby, scream my name again, I'm so, so close" his voice cracked, hips stuttering, but shoved into you powerfully once again. 

"Johnny, ah!" your feeble voice screaming, your small cunt taking him this well, and your constant clenching pulled his last string. 

You felt him twitch inside of you, then seconds later his seeds coated the walls of your core, driving you to your second orgasm, as Johnny rode the two of you out of your high with his deep voice letting out gasps and groans. 

Johnny flopped down beside you panting from the action, the room smelled of sex. 

After a while of quietness filling the air, Johnny broke it first. 

"Well that was.. Something" his voice was more raspy than ever, as you gulp down the dryness from your throat. 

"Yeah.." you reply tiredly.

"Want to go for a second round and see who lasts longer this time?" Johnny let out jokingly with no actual intention of doing so. 

You turn to your side with a little bit of struggling, wrapping your hands around his torso as you pull your body closer to his.

"Just shut the fuck up and cuddle me"