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letstevengrantsleep · 1 month

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Part One

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Eddie Munson x reader slowwww burn

part summary: you go to a Harrington pool party with your emotionally unavailable boyfriend, and meet Eddie for the first time

word count: 1,154

warnings: ANGST, jealous boyfriend, boyfriend is a dick tbh

a/n: let me know if you want this to be a series? I have ideas I can get down on paper yknow?

main masterlist series masterlist

The sun is hanging low in the sky by the time you put your feet in the water, Steve's pool sparkling invitingly in the low summer sun. The sound of laughter and splashing water fills the air as you hum along to the song playing from the stereo system in the kitchen. 'This should be nice' is all you can think, trying your best not to look too lost as you glance around, trying to spot your boyfriend, Jake, who disappeared into the crowd moments ago.

Sighing, and feeling a familiar pang of frustration and embarrassment, you resign yourself to the fact that you will be spending the rest of the night by yourself.

"Hey, you okay?" A voice asks from just behind you. As you turn round you're faced with a painfully familiar look of concern from Steve, which makes you force a smile and nod.

"Yeah, just trying to find Jake."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "he's probably by the drinks, you know how he is."

Your smile falters as you nod again, turning back to face the pool to avoid Steve having to see the stinging water in your eyes that's threatening to turn into tears more and more with each passing moment.

"Yeah. I know."

Steve opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as a loud cheer erupts from the other side of the pool. You turn at the same time as him, wanting to know what the commotion was about, and spot Eddie Munson making a grand entrance. A jarring juxtaposition from the mood over at your side of the pool.

"Looks like Eddie's here to liven things up." Steve comments with a chuckle, jutting his chin in Eddie's direction before adding: "you should go say hi. He's a good guy."

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, maybe I will." You have no intention of following through on what you've said, but you say it anyway just to get Steve off your back. He walks away, it works.

It's been an hour, still no sign of Jake, and the cold night air has forced you to abandon your piece of quiet by the pool in favour of the warmth that being inside might bring.

You're weaving your way through the crowd, a cup of soda in hand, trying to find a spot to sit and gather your thoughts when you turn a corner and collide straight into someone, spilling your drink all over yourself and the other person.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, looking up to see who you had bumped into.

Standing before you, with a surprised but amused expression adorning his face, is Eddie Munson. His dark curls slightly damp from being in the pool, and his faded Metallica shirt stuck to his frame from where the soda had soaked him. He looks at his now soda-stained shirt and then back at you, a grin spreading across his face.

"No worries, it's just soda." He says loudly over the music blaring, "are you okay?"

You feel your cheeks begin to flush with embarrassment, "yeah," you shake your head, "sorry, I should have been paying more attention."

Eddie shrugs, still smiling, "hey, it happens. I'm Eddie, by the way."

You respond with your name, offering a small smile in return. "Nice to meet you Eddie."

"Likewise," he says, his eyes twinkling with genuine friendliness, "so, are you enjoying the party?"

You glance around, spotting Jake in the distance laughing loudly with a group of friends, then sigh softly, offering Eddie a small smile. "It's okay, I guess. Just a bit overwhelming."

Eddie follows your gaze, turning back with a small sense of understanding, "yeah, these things can get rowdy. Want to find a quieter spot to hang out?"

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes drifting back to Jake as he throws an arm around a brunette, swaying as he belts out the lyrics to the music blasting through the house. "Sure," you say, turning back to Eddie, "that sounds nice."

You make your way to a quieter corner of the house, away from the noise and chaos, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

"So, what brings you here?" Eddie asks, genuine curiosity seeping into his tone.

You take a deep breath, "my boyfriend Jake wanted to come. He's...well, he's off doing his own thing."

Eddie nods, his expression thoughtful, then speaks, gliding over the subtext in your words, "I get it. Sometimes it's nice to have a break from all the craziness."

You continue to talk, discovering shared interests and laughing at each other's jokes. As the night goes on, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around Eddie. He is kind, attentive, and genuinely interested in what you have to say - qualities which you realise you are sorely lacking in your relationship with Jake.

By the time the party begins to wind down, you and Eddie have formed a fast friendship. The once lively backyard is now filled with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional splash from the pool, and the house's lights are now illuminating the abandoned plastic cups and food wrappers which litter the floor.

Just as Eddie is recounting a particularly funny incident from one of his Dungeons & Dragons sessions, you notice Jake approaching from across the house. His expression is dark, and you can see the tension in his posture. Your heart sinks, knowing what's about to happen.

Jake calls out your name, his voice has a sharp edge to it, "I've been looking for you."

You stand, trying a small smile on to ease his anger, "hey Jake. I was just talking to Eddie."

Jake's eyes flick to Eddie, narrowing with suspicion. "Yeah, I can see that," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "what are you doing over here?"

Eddie stands as well and your stomach drops, sensing the hostility in Jake. "We were just talking, man. No need to get worked up."

Jake takes a step closer and out of instinct you back up, eyes flicking to the fists clenching at his sides. "I don't remember asking you," he snaps, "she's the one who's ignored me all night to hang out with some loser."

Eddie raises his hands in a placating gesture, "hey, there's no need for name-calling. We're just friends, dude."

You watch as your boyfriend scoffs and rolls his eyes, "friends? Yeah, right. I know your type."

"Jake, please. Let's just go home and talk about this later." You try to diffuse the situation, stepping between the two men.

Your boyfriend glares at Eddie one last time before grabbing your arm and pulling you away. As you walk away you glance back at Eddie, giving him your best reassuring smile as you watch his face contort into a look of concern. You feel a pang of regret, wishing you could stay and continue your conversation with Eddie.

But for now, you'd just have to deal with Jake and his jealousy.

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst #fic rec #eddie munson fics #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson x reader

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cloudteawrites · 4 years

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chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place.

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon.

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful.

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer.

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored.

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum.

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart.

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle.

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.”

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy. “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back.

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…”

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.”

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation.

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent. Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think.

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night.

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk.

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted.

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen.

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert.

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.”

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you.

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him.

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.”

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too.

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.” You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking.

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's.

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist.

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?”

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles.

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting.

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another.

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.”

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room.

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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lovelierbitsoflife · 3 years

Text

Shh...you don’t want them to hear us, do you?

Read on AO3

Simon and Wilhelm have a sneaky moment during a formal event.

Set a couple years after high school. Wilhelm is still the crown prince and Simon is his known partner to the world.

Rating: M

Word count: 3k-ish

Tags: smutty smut smut, and a side of fluff cuz it’s Wilmon.

A/N: I’m really sorry I wrote this in a flurry of passionate inspiration late at night so I’ll go through it more thoroughly for any grammatical errors later. um...enjoy?

Wilhelm catches Simon’s eyes across the ball room and he feels his heart jump to his throat. God, he looks stunning. Wilhelm’s eyes hungrily drag down Simon’s figure before moving back to meet his eyes. He sees Simon drop his eyes momentarily as a shy smile flicks across his face, clearly understanding the meaning behind Wilhelm’s gaze.

Simon is dressed in a smooth, deep green suit that is dark enough to almost appear black until the silky material reflects the chandelier’s sparkling lights. The suit mirrors his own, made of the same silk-lined fabric, only his is a deep navy blue. He smiles to himself. No point trying to be subtle at this point. Simon is his, and he is Simon’s, and the world knows it. Wilhelm feels like his heart could explode from overwhelming pride.

The ballroom is filled with the sounds of laughs and conversation, and the sweet sound of a waltz echoes off the wall from the live string quartet playing in the corner. The queen’s birthday always called for a special array of entertainment. Live music, performances, plays and speeches. Normally these big events would tire Wilhelm out, but tonight he felt a bit lighter knowing the attentions were focused on his mother, allowing him to fade into the background a little. Although he was still required to give a speech and make his rounds thanking all who had come to honour his mother tonight, for the most part of the night he was free to roam around the room as he wished.

Wilhelm glanced at his boyfriend again. He is conversing with a tall man, dark skinned with a head of curls that match Simon’s own. The man leans in and says something that causes Simon to let out an audible chuckle, which stirs up something in Wilhelm. He can’t hear their conversation from across the floor but it excites him to see Simon’s beautiful face light up in a smile, simultaneously bubbling up a pang of jealousy that the smile is not directed towards him.

“Excuse me,” Wilhelm tips a slight bow to the circle of ambassadors gathered near him who were animatedly sharing their favourite places to play golf and their swing techniques. They nod their heads towards him with a couple quick “Your Highness,” before continuing with their conversation.

Slowly, Wilhelm makes his way along the wall of the ballroom, trying not to pull attention towards himself. There’s a faint buzzing growing from behind his ears in anticipation. He could feel every single fibre of his being edging him forward, pulling him towards Simon. He spots Simon’s curls over the crowd at the edge of the room and inches closer. He hears the sound of Simon and the tall man talking and realises that they’re speaking in Spanish. Ah, he thinks, no wonder he looks so comfortable.

He approaches Simon from behind, setting his hand lightly on the small of Simon’s back. He sees Simon glance back and his eyes glimmer in a smile of recognition.

“Hey,” he sighs.

“Hey,” Wilhelm answers. He looks at the tall man across of them. “Hi,” he stretches out a hand.

“Your Royal Highness, it’s an honour.” The man bows deeply while shaking Wilhelm’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced. And please, you can call me Wilhelm.”

The man hesitates, then smiles. “Ah, I’m sorry Your Highness, but I believe that would be considered impudent and I wouldn’t want to get into any trouble.” He chuckles.

“Oh, of course.” Wilhelm flushes, embarrassed he didn’t think through his request first.

“Wille, this is Alberto Perez. He’s the Venezuelan ambassador for Sweden. We were just speaking of his home and how he was enjoying it here in Sweden.” Simon chimes in, saving him from further embarrassment. Wilhelm rubs a small circle around Simon’s back with his thumb in gratitude. Simon’s eyes locks with his, flicks down to his lips, then back to his eyes again. Simon’s lips part slightly and Wilhelm notices Simon’s tongue dart out against his lower lip. Wilhelm feels a burst of arousal shoot southwards.

“Yes! I was just telling Mr. Eriksson here that my family have really enjoyed living in your beautiful country. Especially my son. He really loves all the playgrounds here in Stockholm.” Albert Perez announces with a hearty laugh.

“I’m glad to hear, Mr. Perez.” Wilhelm replies, just barely able to tear his gaze away from Simon.

“I was telling him of my favourite places to go when my mum used to bring me and Sara to Stockholm as children, and our favourite games to play as kids. I thought he might like to try a couple games with his own children.” Simon added. “I warned him of a couple of the cheating methods we used as well, just in case,” he laughed.

Wilhelm chuckled. He couldn’t help but notice how Simon’s eyes lit up when he was recounting his youth. Seeing Simon so happy and relaxed instantly relieved all tension from his body as well. Though, there were now other sensations travelling through his veins. A primal need for something more was stirring deep in his stomach, and he felt like a teenager all over again, wanting to give into it.

As he was trying to think of a way to excuse himself and Simon from the conversation, a lady in a shimmering light blue gown approached them. She wrapped her hand around Alberto’s elbow and greeted him with a warm smile.

“Mi amor,” Alberto spoke as he laid his hand atop of hers, “May I introduce you to His Royal Highness, Prince Wilhelm and his partner Mister Simon Eriksson. This is my wife, Maria Perez.” She curtsied and bowed her head to both men.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. This has been a wonderful party, Your Highness. We are so honoured to have been invited tonight.”

“The pleasure is ours, Mrs. Perez. My mother will be happy to hear that her guests have been enjoying their evening with us.” Wilhelm responded politely.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I might need to steal my husband away for a moment. I believe it’s our turn and our presence has been requested to meet Her Majesty, the Queen.”

“Of course, we can’t keep the Queen waiting,” Wilhelm smirked in response.

They said their goodbyes, leaving Wilhelm and Simon together. Wilhelm leaned over to Simon’s ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

Simon pulled back slightly, “What? Wille, we can’t just leave. They’ll notice!” He giggled and glanced around nervously.

“We’ll be back. Don’t worry, they won’t miss us. Let’s go.” He interlocked his fingers with Simon’s and swiftly lead them towards the back door leading out to the lavatories and the main hall.

There was a scurry of shuffling feet along the carpet as Wilhelm lead them down one hall to another, slowing down to a leisurely stroll whenever another person was encountered, and then speeding up again when they were out of sight. Simon had lost track of where they were and was trying to work out where in the castle they had ended up, when he was suddenly yanked to the side, through a small door into a stuffy room.

Before the door was barely closed behind him, he was pushed up against the edge of a furniture top – a desk, he presumed – with Wilhelm’s hand wrapped behind his neck, pulling him in and pressing their lips together.

Wilhelm felt Simon’s shock melt away into the kiss as his lips softened and was soon reciprocating the kiss with equal enthusiasm. As Simon’s fingers drifted up along his arms up to his hair, Wilhelm’s other hand reached around and dipped under the boy’s blazer, settling onto the small of Simon’s back, heating up the fabric with his hands. He pulled himself closer, using his knees to create a gap between Simon’s legs that he could settle into as he pressed their bodies together, flushed chest to chest.

He was not disappointed to find Simon’s hard-on nudge his own. The pressured contact caused his arousal to lift, pushing into Simon, who’s cock responded in turn.

“Mm, oh – God – Wille,” Simon moaned as he lifted his hips to grind them together again.

Wilhelm’s hand quickly released Simon’s neck and covered his mouth, stilling both their bodies in the process.

“Shh…you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” He asked, his breath fanning across Simon’s face, who was now arched back, silenced and wide-eyed. He shook his head slightly, eyes never breaking from Wilhelm’s.

Wilhelm could feel Simon’s hot breath filtering through his fingers, soft lips pressed against his palm and fingers. And suddenly he was transported back to being 16 again, at his first outing with Simon.

He grinned. How times have changed. His feelings were no longer as confused or fearful as they once were about the boy across of him. And unlike back then, Wilhelm knew exactly what he wanted to do to this boy that was conjuring up all these delicious feelings within him.

“Good, I don’t want that either,” He eyed Simon and arched his bow in a challenge, dipping his eyes down to their hips. Simon looked back questioningly. Slowly, Wilhelm began to move again. At first, just a light push. Then, a little harder. And then he added a little roll to his hips, nudging Simon’s erection with his own from the bottom up. A guttural groan came from the back of Simon’s throat, who’s eyes were now shut, head tipped back and hands gripping tightly at the fabric of Wilhelm’s sleeves. His hand was still covering Simon’s mouth, muffling the moans only slightly.

Wilhelm’s free arm wrapped around the smaller boy and lifted Simon up to seat him on top of the furniture they were leaning on, which Simon now noticed was in fact a cabinet within a very small storage room. Legs now free, still parted with Wilhelm between them, Simon hooked his ankles behind Wilhelm’s thighs and tugged forward, the sudden thrust making them both gasp. Wilhelm’s hand drifted from Simon’s back to his thighs, then hitched them further up his waist, creating a more intimate position between them. Simon’s arms dropped behind him, catching his weight to stop himself from falling onto his back.

Simon’s breaths were coming out in quick pants and his lips were parting wider under Wilhelm’s palms. Wilhelm lifted his hand and ran his fingers over Simon’s parted lips, wanting to feel the soft, silky skin against his fingertips. Simon’s tongue darted out, catching the tips of his fingers.

Wilhelm felt his breath stop. Simon held his gaze as he dipped his index finger forward again. Simon this time opened his mouth wider, suddenly wrapping his sinful mouth around Wilhelm’s index and middle fingers, taking them both into his mouth to the knuckle. Wilhelm felt his mouth go dry and swallowed a moan as he felt Simon’s warm, wet tongue slide up, down and between his fingers, promising and reminding Wilhelm what other great pleasures his mouth could bring.

“Fuck, I could cum from you just doing that,” he groaned.

Simon stopped and pulled his mouth back with a pulling pressure until Wilhelm’s fingers made a wet pop from his lips. “Well, we can’t have that,” he whispered with a smile.

“What shall we have instead, then?” Wilhelm challenged, fingers now stroking Simon’s jawline.

“I want you to fuck me. I want to walk around smugly for the rest of the night knowing I made the Crown Prince of Sweden come apart with my body. Because I am yours, and you are mine,” He stated with heated ferocity.

Wilhelm did not need to be told twice. He took Simon’s lips into his own, tongue and teeth, pulling at each other in a passionate blitz. All the while, articles of clothing were being tugged off, set aside across old chairs nearby. Their blazers were the first to go, shirts unbuttoned, followed by Simon’s pants and underwear, which Wilhelm unceremoniously removed as Simon leaned back to lie down.

Simon lifted his body up onto his elbow to watch as Wilhelm tugged at his belt and swiftly removed his own dress pants and underwear, tossing them into the chair with the other clothes. Simon’s gaze drifted down, Wilhelm’s arousal, now free, and pointedly directed at him. He licked his lips, touching himself in anticipation.

Wilhelm came closer, leaning over and slanting his lips over Simon’s as he thrust their cocks together. They moaned into each other’s mouths and Wilhelm couldn’t help rolling his hips, the sensation of themselves rubbing against each other too sweet to stop.

All too soon, Wilhelm pulled back and brought his two fingers to Simon’s lips again. “Suck,” he commanded. Simon took the fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue against them.

Simon felt Wilhelm take back his fingers and suddenly heat struck up and down his body as Wilhelm used his free hand to wrap around his erection. There was a flurry of sensations coming from everywhere; Wilhelm’s lips grazing and sucking down his neck and chest, hands and fingers working around and in him, bringing him closer and closer towards the edge. He let out a small whimper as he felt Wilhelm’s hands leave him, frustrated at being brought so close without being given any relief.

Wilhelm chuckled, he loved impatient Simon.

“Wilhelm, please.”

“As you wish, my love.” Wilhelm took his own hardness into his hands and prepared himself against Simon, then slowly pushed in.

Wilhelm though he might pass out from the pleasure. Simon was so tight and feeling his body adjust and encompass Wilhelm’s sizeable intrusion was... intensely arousing. It was hard to remind himself to go slowly and allow Simon time to get used to him. He felt himself bottom out and he exhaled as Simon gasped, “Ah—Wille, please – I – I need you to move, please m—” Wilhelm’s hand shot back over his mouth again.

Wilhelm withdrew and powerfully thrust back in, sharply gasping as Simon drew out a long moan against his palm. He pulled back and slammed in again, and again, and again… Each time being able to slide in more easily, Simon’s arousal coating his hardness and his body, ready to take more and more of him in. Wilhelm grabbed the boy’s knee, hooking it up over his shoulder and Simon’s other knee mirrored the same position. Wilhelm felt himself being pulled deeper at the change in position and Simon seemed to revel in it, muffled high pitched moans leaking out between his fingers with each thrust he gave.

It was so hot, feeling himself lean over Simon with his hands over the boy’s mouth. Seeing the trust Simon had in him, being put into such a vulnerable position, and the arousal Simon appeared to be getting from being controlled in such a way. Their eyes never left each other as they got closer and closer with each thrust, the warm, wet gasps bursting from Simon’s lips and hot tongue pressed against his palm.

He felt the hot pressure build and his eyes began to flutter shut, “I’m close. Fuck, Simon, I’m gonna cum.” He moved to pull out, when a frantic set of hands pulled against his ass and drew him back in again. He opened his eyes to see Simon, sending him a fervent look. Wilhelm understood, panting, “Are you sure?”

Simon nodded.

Wilhelm took Simon’s hardness into his own hands and matched the rhythm to his thrusts. He felt the pressure build and build, his quick pants matching with Simon’s whimpers, then suddenly he felt Simon’s body jerk and lock, his body convulsing and squeezing around Wilhelm’s cock, triggering his own climax and sending him over the edge in ecstasy.

They stayed like this for a while, panting, Wilhelm’s forehead resting against Simon’s chest.

Wilhelm looked up at Simon and they both let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck, that was hot,” Wilhelm announced, pulling Simon’s lips in for a slow, languid kiss.

“Mmm,” was all he got out of Simon, who’s eyes were still glazed, looking thoroughly fucked with his tousled curls, sweat-gleamed skin and bare chest, marked with a trail of hickeys and coated in a thin film of cum.

He felt his cock twitch. Holy shit. “It should be a crime that you can make me so needy all the time.”

Simon grinned and his fingers traced Wilhelm’s jawline playfully, “I’ll take round two anytime, Your Highness.”

“Mmm, as much pleasure as it would give me to screw you into oblivion here and now, I believe our missing presence would be noted if we’re gone for much longer.”

Simon’s eyes widened, “Shit!” He sprang up and Wille chuckled at the reaction.

“Here,” Wilhelm offered Simon his pocket handkerchief to wipe his chest clean. They both tidied up and dressed themselves, giggling and sharing light kisses as they helped each other tuck their clothes in properly, seeing as a mirror was not accessible nearby.

Wilhelm cracked the door open slightly to make sure the hall was clear before they both stepped out, straightening up their clothes one last time before clasping their hands together and making their way back to the ballroom.

They mingled with their guests for the remainder of the night, barely letting go of each other’s hands, letting their love wash over each other without a care in the world.

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

Loopy

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is a little loopy from her anesthesia, and Johnny finds it amusing.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: Requested by @thescorpionrodriguez. Hope you enjoy!

“Come on, V, wake the fuck up already.”

Silence. Johnny swears he could hear a pin drop.

V’s body remains lax on the bed; her eyes wound shut as if she were sound asleep. Slow and rhythmic, the rise and fall of her chest were calming, lulling. For once, she looks to be in peace, a rare moment for those who live and breathe in Night City.

She had been lucky. Extremely lucky. Two or three millimeters more to the right and the bullet that pierced her abdomen would have hit an organ. By some miracle, it missed anything vital and had exited out cleanly. It did fucking hurt judging by the sound of her agonizing groans, but here she was—still kicking, still alive.

And Johnny’s relieved that she was. They may not get along at times, but he genuinely cares for V. Hell, he would even consider her a good friend. She could call him a snarky asshole as often as she wants (and she does), yet he knows that deep down, she too has grown a soft spot for the rocker boy.

It’s been hours since the mission that went awry, and Johnny was getting pretty antsy. Vik had to put V down while he worked on repairing her cyberware. Nothing major, though the anesthesia should have certainly worn out by now. Much to Silverhand’s surprise, the ripperdoc wasn’t acting all too worried about it. He thinks V could use the sleep since he’s aware of how little she’s been getting.

Unfortunately, Johnny was all but a patient man. Bored out of his damn mind, he’s tired of roaming around the operating room, waiting and waiting for V to regain consciousness. Johnny’s more than ready to leave, perhaps grab a smoke afterward. He hasn’t gone this long without one lately, and he can’t enjoy one if V’s lying here, knocked out cold.

Nearly the rest of the day flies by, and the sun begins to set. That’s when he feels it; a spark—a familiar jolt of electricity emitting in the depths of V’s mind. Johnny manifests by her bedside, watching as her body finally stirs awake. That’s my girl, he silently praises, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. V’s eyes flutter open, taking a minute to survey her surroundings before her line of sight lands on him.

“Well, look who decided to come back to life,” Johnny quips, leaning closer. “You doing alright, kid?”

V doesn’t respond. Rather, she bursts into a fit of giggles out of nowhere.

What the fuck?

Bewildered, Johnny glances everywhere but notices nothing amusing of the sort. “Care to share what you find so funny?”

“You’re too good looking to be my nurse,” V drawls, no doubt experiencing side effects from the anesthesia.

“I’m no nurse, princess, but thanks,” he corrects her. Then, it dawns on him. “You recognize me?”

She blinks at him blearily, the gears in her head turning as she tries to put a name to the face. “I dunno, should I?”

“It’s Johnny. Johnny Silverhand. Ring any bells?”

Again, V chuckles, a light-hearted tone that Johnny rarely hears, but they were sweet music to his ears when he does.

“Nope, zero bells. Are you like my husband or something?”

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Husband? Oh, no, honey. We ain’t even gone on a date yet. I’d say, think of us as partners-in-crime.”

“Wait!” V blurts out, gasping. “I remember you. You’re from that band—Samurai, right? God, I used to listen to your songs a lot as a kid.”

“Huh, you told me you’d never heard of Samurai,” Johnny recalls, slightly entertained at this point. “Didn’t peg you as a fangirl, V. I’m flattered.”

“So, can I… y’know, get your autograph?”

Just before Johnny could continue playing around with a loopy V, Viktor strolls in with Misty in tow, both delighted to find the merc out of her prolonged slumber. He lingers by the foot of her bed as Vik explains to V what happened, but she doesn’t seem to be processing it. She stares at him, dazed, and Johnny wonders when she’ll be back to normal.

“The effects should go away in a few hours,” Vik informs Misty once he’s examined V. She’s healing nicely and isn’t complaining much, yet that could be because of all the painkillers she was jacked with. “I’d say watch over V until she can stand on her own two feet without tripping. Other than that, she’s good to go.”

“Where are we going?” a clueless V asks, looking back and forth between the two. “Is Johnny coming?”

Misty furrows her brow at her. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, mister sex on legs over there,” she points eagerly, and Johnny smirks at that. “I’m not done talking to him yet.”

Vik shakes his head before reminding Misty of the engram residing within V’s psyche. “Oh, yeah. Silverhand. Uh, I guess he could come, too. Don’t really have much of a choice there, doll.”

The walk back to V’s apartment was a journey in itself. Lucky for her, she was pushed in a wheelchair throughout it all as Johnny stays visible for her benefit. They reached the door just before the skies turned completely dark, the warmth and comfort of the room being somewhat familiar to V.

Misty carefully moves her onto the bed, propping her up with pillows behind her back before smoothing out the blankets covering her legs. Johnny observes from a distance, quiet in his pondering. He’s never seen V this vulnerable before. She’s always been incredibly independent, not to mention stubborn as hell. She won’t accept anyone’s help unless it’s dire, and even then, she’s reluctant to do so.

“You must be starving,” Misty comments once V is settled. “How about I get you somethin’ to eat downstairs. Better food than what’s here, if there’s any. Hang tight for a bit, ’kay?”

Nodding, Misty then heads out of the room, the front door sliding shut when she’s gone, leaving V in the presence of Johnny yet once again. He glitches to sit by the edge of the mattress as V stares at him incredulously. Her eyes shone what he could best describe as innocence; she truly has no clue of what they’ve gone through together in the previous months.

“Can you sing me a song?”

Johnny narrows his gaze, a small chuckle rumbling in his throat at her deliriousness. “I don’t do concerts anymore.”

“Oh, come on!” V pouts, almost child-like in her ways. “Pleeease?”

“No,” he refuses sternly before an idea comes to mind. “How about you sing to me? Said you were a fan. Give me a performance, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

V does not hesitate. On cue, she starts to serenade Johnny with one of Samurai’s greatest hits, going as far as imitating the gruffness of his voice. Off-beat and lyrics garbled, V belts out the tune confidently and loud enough that her irritated neighbors began banging on the wall, yelling at her to quit it.

She ignores them, of course.

Meanwhile, Johnny’s having the time of his life. It was quite endearing to him, although embarrassing for V if she later finds out about this. Yet, he doesn’t stop her. He encourages her even further by singing along, not giving a fuck in the world.

At the end of the song, Johnny laughs heartily along with V, who had crawled closer to him. Their eyes meet for a moment that seems to last longer than it actually did. His mouth quirks up in a smile, the kind of smile that was reserved for her and her alone.

“You’re pretty cool, Silverhand,” V mumbles sleepily, touching the cold surface of his chrome arm. Sighing, Johnny guides her drowsy self back under the covers, certain that she would crash in the next minute or two. “I think you should take me on a date. We’d be a hell of a couple together.”

“I think you’re going to regret everything that’s happened just now when you wake up in the morning,” he returns, and there was a slight pang in his chest.

V only hums in response, and he doubts he had even heard what he last said. It doesn’t matter, however. Johnny was sure she wouldn’t want to bring this up again.

---

“Fuck…” V exhales groggily, her blinking eyes wincing at the bright sunlight flooding into the room. She feels pain all over, her head throbbing immensely as she tries to gather memories of the day prior. It comes back in bits and pieces until suddenly, she remembers everything.

Everything.

“Good morning, princess,” Johnny greets after materializing before her, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “How ya feelin’? Still loopy or need a little more refreshing from ‘mister sex on legs?’”

V’s reflexes are quick; Johnny doesn’t even register the pillow being hurled at him at first. He only realizes it when the empty glass bottles on the center table falls to the floor, shattering and making a mess.

“You’re lucky you’re just a hologram, right now,” V muttered as she stands up unsteadily.

Johnny holds his hands up. “You were the one who said it.”

Rolling her eyes, V reaches for the painkillers Misty left on the side. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, but at least let me tell you that you’ve got a shitty voice.”

“That’s why I don’t do karaoke,” V snorts before swallowing the pills and heading to the couch. “So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean?” Johnny questions.

“You, me, dinner?”

V waits for his reaction, smiling coyly at his confusion. When Johnny finally understands what she was referring to, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Wait, are you fucking serious?”

She lets out a chortle. “Yeah, I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m mortified about last night, and I’m never going to let Vik knock me out with that stuff again. But hey, the truth came out. Might not have remembered you, but even while high as fuck, I knew I liked you.”

Briefly, they traded a look of longing, acknowledging at last this deeper connection they’ve felt for a while. It was much more than sharing a body, a mind. Something more profound than what Johnny and V have experienced before in their lives.

And though it was all entirely new to them, they both wanted it. They both wanted each other.

“Better get to it then,” Johnny flashes a grin, mirroring V’s own. “Wanna start with breakfast? Bet you’re hungry after skipping what Misty brought you, samurai.”

“Never going to live that one down, are ya?”

Shooting her a cheeky wink, Johnny throws on his stylish pair of aviators with ease.

“You bet your ass I’m not.”

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings @planetkt @breakthenight @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse @overheardatthecontinental @life-is-fuucked @ataraxydreams

#johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand fanfic

986 notes · View notes

cuddlesslut · 4 years

Text

Beginnings

Chapter Ten of Home

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Summary: a glance back

Warnings: some NSFW elements in this chapter

AN / so it looks like the chapters are going to be shorter than before but that’s just because I can only keep my energy up for so long. I really do enjoy writing but it’s easier for me to write smaller chapters rather than like before. Also I know Suna hasn’t been as present I promise we will be getting more of him soon! UNEDITED SORRY

Part Nine: Closure

You collapsed onto your bed immediately after getting home from lunch with Atsumu and you haven’t moved for at least half an hour. Emotionally you were exhausted. Seeing him and thinking about him still caused a pang in your chest but that reunion was needed. You needed to start moving past him, that much you decided. He was your first love and he wounded you in a way that may never fully heal but now there’s two amazing guys trying to help you move forward.

You let a long grown rubbing your hands over your face. This were complicated enough when you were still coming to terms with your felling with Hinata. God he must be wondering what the hell is going with you leaving with his teammate. Maybe Bokuto and Sakusa have already started filling in the blanks for him. You could see those idiots snickering to themselves when you had encountered the group earlier. A soft smile graced your lips thinking of those two. You missed those two, and their constant bickering. You had become close to the the team over the years. Having hosted several victory parties at your and Atsumu’s shared home.

A small tear slipped down your cheek running down your face as you lay staring at the ceiling. Just another thing you had lost because of the setter. You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Shaking that thought from your mind it did no good to dwell on those things now. Thinking back to your favorite orange haired man you felt slightly nervous about having to explain everything to him. Sho is nowhere near as dumb as most think ,yes he tends to get a little over excited missing some details but he’s really quite clever, so he’s probably figured out most things. It’s not like he wasn’t aware of your past you had spilled that too him a lot quicker than you had planned. You can remember that moment clearly. It was the moment your feelings for Hinata had first started becoming deeper than you had intended, even though you denied them for a lot longer.

You stretched sitting up the soft cotton sheets falling your lap as you yawned searching searching the room for the familiar sight of Shoyo’s bright orange hair. You rose your brow at the lack of his presence. The small apartment was silent. Which made you draw the conclusion that he was not here, he’s to rambunctious to be home and not make any noise not that you minded. You had a clue where he could probably be and your suspicions were confirmed as you heard him enter through the front door. It surprised you the first morning it had happened but by now you are used to Hinata going for morning runs.

He stood in the door smile spreading across his face upon seeing you awake in this bed wearing only one of his old game shirts from Brazil. Your hair still a mess and the purple marks he left last night peaking out from the collar of the crew neck. It was certainly an amazing sight for him to come back to. He leaned against the door frame lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat from his face. Now it was your turn to appreciate the view. His abs and delicious v coming into sight. Grazing your eyes down to his workout shorts that fit nice and snug against his defined thighs. God his thighs were a blessing in and of themselves. After your quick glance you look back up to the eyes of the man in front of you.

“You know I’ll never understand how you can have the energy to go running in the morning after the nights we have,” you chuckle.

A wide grin sneaks his way to his face “ sorry I’m not the one who can barely walk in the morning,” he winks.

Your jaw drops at his cheeky comment. “ oh yeah we’ll have to change that,” you state smug unsure where all of this confidence came from. Although you weren’t expecting his response.

His eyebrow quirked at your insinuation, before smirking “ alright that can be arranged sometime soon!” He chuckled enthusiastically.

Your eyes widened the scenario playing in your mind quickly.

Hinata loved the shocked but curious expression painting your features. The next thing you new Sho had bolted from his spot jumping into the bed knocking you onto your back as he hovered over you. His hot breath tickled your neck his lips grazing your pulse before giving a nip. One hand had sneaked under the shirt you wore grasping onto your hip while the other kneaded your breast. Your breath grew shaky. He lowered his head to the valley between your breast before looking up to you. Peering at you through his orange waves that dangled in his face.

“You know I still have plenty of energy to take care of you,” he teased his voice dropping an octave. “ so baby tell where do you want me.”

“I want you,” you bite your lip looking at the sinful man in front of you. Your hand grips his chin pulling him up to you face to face, your eyes drop to his lips before returning to his darkened eyes. “In the shower, now get your sweaty ass off of me!” You push his Lunky body of off you before standing.

He groans looking over at you “tease!” He yells.

You turn back sticking your tongue out at him, “ go shower loser im going to make some coffee and breakfast,” you yelled over your shoulder as you headed to the kitchen. Hinata enjoyed the view of you walking away before sighing in defeat, he was really grimy from his run, plus he could use a cold shower right now.

———

You moved around his small kitchen with an air of familiarity. It was about a little over a month since your agreement of friends with benefits began. After fixing a small breakfast and some coffee Shoyo finally emerged fully dressed and cleaned. Taking a sip from his mug and surveying the food you had made. He smiled.

“Damn Y/N this looks amazing!” He smile his signature smile. “You know it surprise me how a girl like you is single!” He doesn’t sense the mistake he had made immediately. You had never talked about why you didn’t want to date before. Not feeling your tragic history with love was appropriate pillow talk. You froze at this statement. Unwanted thoughts and memories swirling in your mind. All of your insecurities starting to surface. Hinata noticed the shift in the air immediately. It was hard not to as your hands grabbed at the counter for some stability. Your eyes trained on the surface, voice caught in your throat. How do you respond to that.

If there’s one thing about Hinata that is certain it’s that’s he’s incredibly caring. He moved around the corner of the counter standing next to your side placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N are you okay! Was it something I said? I’m real sorry ya know!” You turn to him tears brimming in your eyes. He doesn’t speak again or ask you to just pulling you into him as you bury your face into his chest as you sob. He places a reassuring hand your back rubbing soothing circles onto your back hoping to help calm you.

It feels nice and it helps a lot more than you expected. Although guilt starts to build as you realize your crying in front of a man you only know through sex. God this is embarrassing. Before you can try to retreat. Sho navigates you to his sofa. After relaxing into the cushions you look up at him. While he’s trying to look calm and reassuring you can sense the worry in him.

He takes this moment to speak. “ you know you can talk to me Y/N I’ll listen to you about whatever you have going on, no judgment.” You sigh looking up at him. Looking up into his eyes you don’t know why you aren’t more hesitant but it honestly feels like you can tell him anything. And so you do. You tell him almost everything. Leaving out names and some of the more gory details. You tell him all about your heartache. And he sits and listens to you intently. Although he didn’t show it he was furious with how you had been treated. But he didn’t want to interrupt your venting. It felt really nice to actually talk to someone about everything and how you feel and Sho was amazingly supportive throughout the whole ordeal.

Wiping the mostly dried tears from your cheeks you gave Hinata a soft smile. “ thank you Shoyo I’m sorry I dropped all of this on you, it probably not what you signed up for.” You gave a nervous chuckle.

He returned your smile, looking at you earnestly, he gripped your shoulder gently making you look up at him. “Hey none of that non sense! You can always talk to me no matter what!” He smiled.

Your eyes shinned up at him with a forgotten emotion. “Really?” You questioned

His smile grew even bigger “Yeah! Absolutely! What are friends for!” He beamed!

Friends.... why did that word give you a pang in your chest.

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butternuggets-blog · 3 years

Text

Second Chances - MA15+ NSFW

@baronzemosupremist Your fanfiction, sir :) Sorry it took so long to write :(

Smut/Angst, Porn With Minimal Plot, Baron Zemo/Male Reader (__ used instead of Y/N because I think it looks neater)

He had been expecting jail. Fifty years or more spent in a small windowless concrete cube, with a few books and a toilet for company. Or death. He deserved to be shot. He had read the papers, listened to the staggered screams as the news reports smash-cut through video footage of the UN Conference in Vienna. Watched Nadia and Carl, and his father, be buried again and again every night in his dreams.

But with time served and James Barnes, of all people, defending him, he had been reluctantly released back into the general public. He knew the Wakandans were keeping an eye on him, and he had to report twice a week to a parol officer, but all in all he had quite a bit of freedom.

A lot of time on his hands.

Too much time on his hands.

In an odd twist of fate, he had wound up in a cramped apartment two blocks away from a branch of the Novi Grad Public Outreach Program. He still felt a slight twist in his gut every time he looked at the sign, but he went there every day, signing up for whatever needed doing.

Which is where he met him. A laugh so loud it echoed through the bustling centre, drawing chuckles from weary people who often didn’t feel like smiling. Bright intelligent eyes that were constantly scanning, ever observant, in case someone looked like they needed assistance.

A body that fit so snugly into jeans and a tank top that Zemo had walked straight into a wall the first time he spotted him.

It was getting a little embarrassing, to be honest. He’d had crushes before, but nothing that ever made him so flustered that he’d blushed right up to his ears. Nadia would have been in hysterics if she could see him now.

“Hey, what are the chances!’

Zemo blinked.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘I live here now! Apartment number nine’ _ gestured vaguely down the hall, and Zemo felt a stupid, dopey smile spread across his face.

‘Well, neighbour, why don’t you come in?’

‘Mmh, do you mind if I have some coffee? That smells amazing!’

‘Please, by all means’

‘Thanks’

They sat in companiable silence on the balcony for a while, Zemo trying desperately not to stare. __ really was beautiful in the early morning light, the muted colours creating contrasts on his face. His stomach flopped. God, he was in love.

‘So I was wondering..’ __ fiddled with the mug in his hands, gathering himself, ‘I know it’s probably a little forward of me to ask but..would you like to sleep with me?’

Zemo choked on his coffee.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just-oh god’ __ winced and rubbed a hand across his face, ‘I mean, would you like to go on a date? Or..I’m sorry, I’m just not really used to asking, and you’re really hot, and I just..eurgh-’

‘Yes’ Zemo interrupted, fervently. __ peeked out from between his fingers.

‘Yes?’

‘Yes’ Zemo put down his mug and reached a hand out, tentatively placing it on __ ‘s knee. ‘To both suggestions’

‘Ok, well, great’ __ put down his mug as well and gently placed a hand on top of Zemo’s. It was warm and comforting, and Zemo felt a sudden pang of fondness well up inside his heart.

__ rubbed slow circles with his thumb, then slowly laced their fingers together. Zemo shuffled closer, and the two shared a nervous chuckle.

‘Can...may I kiss you?’

Zemo hesitated, then nodded.

The kiss tasted like cappuccino, and felt like a thousand tiny crackling zaps of lighting through Zemo’s body. Every hair was standing on end, and as __ deepened the kiss, he felt his toes curl and an anticipatory shiver roll up his spine.

‘Let’s take this to the bedroom’ Zemo whispered hoarsely.

__ nodded, brushing his nose against Zemo’s cheek. He went to stand up and __ pulled him in close, putting Zemo’s feet on top of his own and leading him backwards towards the bedroom as he dragged lazy kisses across Zemo’s jaw.

They were both breathing heavily by the time __ slowly lowered them onto the bed. __ nibbled Zemo’s bottom lip, making him gasp, and leaned into a deep kiss, probing his mouth gently with his tongue.

Zemo moaned, his hands coming up and sliding under __’s shirt. __ smiled and leaned back, sitting in Zemo’s lap as he helped him pull off his shirt. He let his hands roam back down __ ‘s chest, mapping the contours of his body and comitting them to memory.

Like Nadia.

His smile dropped and his hands stilled.

‘What is it?’

Zemo swallowed, unsure of what to say.

‘You lost someone, didn’t you?’ __ said quietly. __ stood up, taking Zemo’s hands in his own as he sat down beside him on the bed.

‘It’s okay if you want to stop’

‘No, I don’t but..it’s just..’

‘It’s still fresh, isn’t it?’

Zemo hung his head.

‘I mourned. I still mourn. But she’d want me to be happy again’ he mumbled. Slowly, so as not to startle him, __ moved closer until their shoulders brushed.

‘Tell me what you want..what you need’

Zemo let out a shaky breath and unconciouslly wrapped an arm around __ ‘s waist. He pressed his lips against __ ‘s, not kissing but not withdrawing. __ didn’t move; he let the moment linger, the pair suspended over the precipace.

‘I want to let it go’ Zemo breathed.

__ nodded.

__ kissed him back down onto the bed, running feather-light fingers down his sides and sliding his fingertips under the waist band of Zemo’s pyjamas. He slipped the silk pants down onto the floor, nipping and nuzzling sloppy kisses down Zemo’s chest as he slowly knelt.

He cupped a hand gently around Zemo’s balls, causing the other man to buck forward. Zemo shivered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him. It had been a long time, and he had not realised just how desperate his body was to be touched.

__ lowered his head to Zemo’s groin

‘Shh, just relax’

__ swirled his tongue around the head of Zemo’s cock, mouthing at it and licking. Zemo flopped back onto the bed, his hips jerking forward.

‘Oh..OH GOD..yes..yeah like that-’

__ took Zemo’s cock in his mouth and began sucking in earnest, swallowing a little each time he pumped his fingers up and down the shaft. He couldn’t see his face from this angle- not completely- but the absolutely beatiful noises he was making more than made up for it.

‘Ah-ah-yes-YES-’

He used his free hand to sling Zemo’s legs over his shoulders, and then cupped his balls again. Zemo moaned louder, his chest rising off the bed, his thighs trembling.

‘UH-UH-MM...’m gonna-’ Zemo lurched up again, fists clenching the sheets so tight his knuckles turned white. __ rolled his wrist and Zemo cried out, cum shooting down __ ‘s throat as he swallowed.

__ wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, standing on shaking legs and taking his own neglected cock in hand. Zemo looked up at him with a slightly dazed expression, then frowned.

‘No, don’t’

__ managed to pause, and looked at Zemo, confused. Zemo rolled off the bed and onto the floor, steering __ onto the bed by the knees.

__ closed his eyes and moaned as Zemo licked along his shaft, bucking as Zemo swallowed him down. He was so keyed up it didn’t take long until _ shuddered, gasping and writhing as he came.

Zemo hauled himself slowly onto the bed, curling up against __. __ threw out an arm, pulling him into a snug embrace as they drifted off to sleep.

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x you #zemo smut #zemo x male reader

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upthenorthmountain · 3 years

Text

Where the World is in the Making - Chapter 13

I wrote this for the Summer 2021 Frozine, huge thank you to @punkpoemprose for putting that together! And to @karis-the-fangirl as always. Here we go

Previous Chapters

Chapter 13

The Solheims had been good people. Still were, Kristoff was sure. It was Mrs Inga Solheim who had nursed his mother through her last illness, who had said to Kristoff, after - Well, get your things together. Don’t you want to see what it’s like out West? And he had - not that he had anything else to do or anywhere else to go - so he’d pulled together the few things that he was sure were his and joined them in the back of their covered wagon. They’d inched their way across the country, along with the other two wagons of Solheims (all three were brothers, and each had a wife, and between them six children when they set out and seven when they arrived, not counting Kristoff), and he’d been quiet and anxious, desperate to prove he could be useful, that he was worth taking all that way. He’d worked hard for them and learnt a lot, and until the day he died he’d be overwhelmingly grateful for the chance they’d given him.

And now, for something else.

There was an interesting item in the newspaper last week, Mrs Solheim had written. An article about how there aren’t enough women out West. Good men with good farms who can’t find a wife. And some have apparently been placing advertisements in the newspaper to find one! What an idea! But it seems some have been successful. You should try it, Kristoff! I’m sure you must be lonely.

What an idea, indeed. He’d rolled his eyes and ignored it, but she’d mentioned it again, and again, and eventually he’d done it just so she’d stop. He’d never in a million years thought he’d actually get an applicant. He hadn’t thought he’d wanted one.

Anna was weeding the vegetable garden. The plants were all full-grown now, tall and green, and she was kneeling - she never had much regard for her skirts - between them as she worked.

With her help, he’d been able to repair the fields after the storm, and lost far less than he’d feared. With her help, the chickens were happy and gave plenty of eggs; the cow was happy and gave plenty of milk (and the goat was happy, too, though his high spirits were not usually a cause for celebration). With her help, the garden had flourished, and was producing enough that she and Elsa had already spent a day with Marta Ogg preserving and canning and would have plenty more to put up before the season was over.

Anna suddenly jumped back onto her heels with an “Ouch!” and Kristoff hurried over.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh - yes - thank you -” she peered at her finger. “A little bit of something just ran under my fingernail. But it’s not bleeding so I guess it didn’t go too far. Is it nearly dinner?”

“I’ve been out in the fields, you tell me.”

“Elsa’s cooking. I keep thinking I smell something but I can’t work out what.” She waved her hands at him until he backed up, then shuffled along on her knees to the next section of the vegetable bed. “I like it when she cooks. She’s a much better cook than I am.”

Kristoff opened his mouth and then closed it again, choosing to kneel next to her rather than speak. Anna laughed. “Thank you.”

“I don’t mean - the two of you have different talents.”

“Okay.”

“You complement each other.”

“Well, maybe that’s true.”

“She wouldn’t have much to cook without you here, doing this.”

Anna sat back and hugged her knees. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m here,” she said. “Sometimes everything before seems like a dream.”

She looked at him, and no matter how muddy her skirts or how much of the dirt had found its way to her face, her eyes were always that same perfect clear blue.

“And I’m glad,” she said. “I’m glad I’m not there any more.”

“Glad to be out of the city? Away from - people that were unkind?”

“No, you don’t understand. Before…” Anna sighed. “I didn’t do anything. I mean. I called on people, and I went out and danced and talked to more people, and I embroidered and I looked pretty and none of it had any point. Nothing I did made anyone’s life better, or easier. I was just - passing the time. My whole life. Looking pretty and passing time.”

Anna sighed again, then reached over and plucked another weed from the soil.

“There you go,” she said. “I pulled up one weed, and I’ve already been more useful than I would have been in a whole week back in the city.”

“You like to be useful.”

“I don’t like to be useless. Or pointless.”

They both sat there, among the green plants, beneath the endless sky. Kristoff could feel it, building, and he was leaning in towards her ever so slightly when Anna said abruptly, “I want to mean something,” and turned her eyes to his again, blue as the ocean and clear as the running stream.

It’s slow, sometimes, but it wears away bit by bit - or comes crashing through all at once - and nothing is the same after.

He leant towards her again, just as Elsa called them to the house for dinner.

-----

The narrow bed in the tiny room was familiar enough now. It almost felt cosy. Before coming here Anna had had her own bedroom for years, but it had never been quiet - there was always noise on the streets outside, or people passing in the corridors. Out here, being alone would have been deathly silent without the sound of Elsa’s breathing.

It wasn’t silent outside tonight, though. She could hear someone singing.

Or rather, not ‘someone’. It was a man’s voice, and there was only one man within miles, so it must be Kristoff singing. Anna couldn’t make out any words. She’d heard him whistling before, around the farm, but never singing.

She wriggled out of the bed. Elsa stirred and opened her eyes.

“I just need to, um,” Anna said, knowing that Elsa would assume she was going to the outhouse; sure enough, her sister gave a little nod and closed her eyes again.

The summer air was warm and Anna barely regretted not picking up a shawl. As she pushed the barn door open she felt a brief pang, remembering another night that she’d come out to the barn in her nightdress - but that quickly disappeared, replaced by the sight in front of her. Kristoff was sitting against the far wall, with his straw hat upside down in his lap, and the hat was full of kittens; and he was singing to them in the warm glow of a lantern.

Anna stood there for one long, breathless moment. She didn’t know the song. She didn’t even know what language it was in, although she could guess that it was Norwegian. It was a soft song; a lullaby. The kittens seemed to be appreciating it, cuddling up together in the hat, and for a second Anna thought she was going to cry. Then Kristoff finished his verse, looked up and saw her.

“Anna,” he said, and cleared his throat, sitting up straighter to a chorus of irritated meows.

“I heard you singing,” she said, walking all the way into the barn and closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you -”

“You didn’t. What song is that?” she said, sitting down next to him and tucking her feet beneath her.

Kristoff looked at his hands for a moment. “My mother used to sing it,” he said.

“When you were little?”

He smiled. “Yes.” He hesitated again, then said “I don’t want to forget it.”

Sometimes Anna got so caught up in the everyday that she forgot all kinds of things. Like, for example, the fact that they were both orphans. She knew Kristoff’s childhood had been very different to her own. If she tried, Anna could remember her mother tucking her into bed with a soft lullaby, but she could more often remember a nursemaid putting her to bed and blowing out the candle. A goodnight from her mother was usually a brief kiss; a goodnight from her father was a nod. And every day it grew fainter and her memories rearranged themselves to match the handful of photographs in the bottom of her and Elsa’s trunk.

It was better to think about the present and the future than the past. She knew that. And her mind obligingly presented her with an image - Kristoff singing that lullaby to a baby. Or maybe to an older child, as he tucked the blankets around them, and then he’d look at his wife and smile -

Anna turned her face away - she knew she was blushing. Now she remembered long ago asking a nursemaid where babies came from, and being given a confusing story about storks and cabbage patches and parcels sent directly from Heaven by God Himself. Now she was here in the warm soft lantern glow with her husband, and when she looked up he was watching her. He’d nearly kissed her in the vegetable patch earlier, she was sure. Not too far from the cabbages. The thought made her laugh and she swallowed it in a yawn.

“You should go back to bed,” Kristoff said. He’d put his hat down, and the kittens had escaped; one was sitting on his foot.

“I’m not tired,” Anna said, sitting up straighter. “I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Really? I thought I was working you hard enough. Obviously not.”

“I’m surprised you can sleep out here at all.”

“I’m used to it.”

“It’s not fair. You work hard too.”

“I’m a man.”

“You’re a person.”

He smiled at her indignance. “Well, if we have a good harvest, maybe I can get some lumber.”

“Mr. Ogg said they’d help!”

“I can manage. I did the rest myself.”

“Mmhmm. Like you darned your own socks. A person can be too self-reliant.”

“What’s wrong with my house?”

“Nothing! Except -” Except we don’t have our own bedroom. No, she would never be bold enough to say that out loud, and now she was blushing again.

If he kisses me now, Anna thought, there’s no one to stop us. Every other person and animal within miles is sleeping. The thought made her heart thump in her chest, and she couldn’t think of anything to say to cover her embarrassment so instead she turned away, pretending she was watching one of the kittens.

She looked up when Kristoff put his hand on her left shoulder. “Anna,” he said, and ran his hand down her arm, stopping at her hand, raising it so that her ring shone in the light of the lantern. There was an ache in her chest when she met his gaze, and everything before this moment felt like a dream. The only thing that was real was right here and now, where all her choices had led her, to the perfect moment -

He kissed her. Anna knelt up, eager, and her slipper fell off and she caught her knee in her nightdress but Kristoff wrapped an arm round her waist and kissed her again. She still stumbled a little, and steadied herself with her arm on the floor; and then it only required Kristoff to make the smallest movement and they were lying on the blanket, side by side.

For a second they blinked at each other, his arm still round her waist, her hand on his shoulder. Then Anna pressed forward again, pulling herself towards him, kissing him with her whole body against his. She half-expected him to draw back, but he didn’t; instead he ran his hand up her back to her shoulders, holding her in place.

She felt giddy. There was no one to stop them and she didn’t want them to. Alright, maybe there was only a rough blanket over a dirt floor and whatever was in that sack Kristoff used as a pillow, maybe this wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured this, but -

But there was someone to stop them, and that was them. Kristoff pulled his lips from hers and rolled onto his back, exhaling deeply. He closed his eyes for a long second, then opened them and held out his arm. Anna hesitated.

“Come here,” he said. “You didn’t - do anything wrong. It’s just…”

Not like this, was what she knew he meant. As her heartbeat slowed back to normal, Anna realised she had a piece of straw poking her through the back of her nightdress, a kitten trying to climb her braid and a draught through a gap in the boards going places she wouldn’t care to mention. Much as she wished right now that her husband was slightly less considerate, he did have a point. She wriggled over to Kristoff and lay down with her head on his shoulder, smiling a little as she felt him pull the pointy straw off her back and throw it away.

He put his arm around her, his hand on her waist. Anna could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall with his breathing. It was so comfortable.

She opened her eyes when Kristoff said “Hey. Anna. You don’t want to fall asleep out here.”

Maybe she did. “I‘m good.”

He opened his arm to release her. “Go to bed. It’s late.”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

He looked pained. “I want you to go to bed.”

So she left and went inside. But when she got into her bed, it somehow felt at once both too small and too empty.

#WTWIITM #where the world is in the making #my art #fanfic

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Waterpark Kisses (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)

Word Count: 1,863

Summary: You and Ushijima decide that a waterpark would be a fun date, but insecurities begin to rise and you’re left wondering if Ushijima really does love you like he claims.

This is dedicated to my @sunshinewitchz, the love of my life and the biggest simp for Wakatoshi I know. She’s literally the best and deserves the best💕💕💕

I hope you all enjoy this garage. My biggest concern when writing is making sure I capture the character’s personality, so hopefully I did a good job for this one😅

Also I know I have some requests sitting in my inbox, I’ll get to them eventually, but at the moment for requests I’ll only be writing three at time.

Anyway please enjoy!:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It was nice of Tendou-kun to give us these tickets.” You said brightly, staring up at the tall ace that was currently next to you.

The smell of chlorine was heavy in the air, along with the sounds of running water, and kids screaming and laughing.

“Yeah.” Ushijima said briefly, eyes flickering down to yours briefly before surveying the area. “I thought it would just be us though.” he finished, eyes now gazing at his teammates.

“Now, now, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou said coming up to you guys and swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Think of it as team building! Right guys?”

Semi scoffed, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “No one wanted to come to the waterpark Tendou, you literally forced everyone to go.”

You and Ushijima frowned slightly at his statement. When Tendou had asked if you guys wanted tickets to go to the new waterpark that opened, you were ecstatic. You and Ushijima hadn’t gone on a date in a while, and this was the perfect chance.

However, you weren’t expecting it to be a group thing.

“I wanted to go.” Ushijima said, looking at Semi with a blank expression. “Y/n and I wanted to go on a date and you guys decided to tag along.” his blunt statement had you gently patting his muscular bicep.

“Waka-kun. It’s fine. We can still have fun.” You said brightly, beaming up at the stoic male. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

Ushijima’s face softened as he stared back at you. This was just one of the many reasons why he adored you. You were literally the sun, incredibly warm and bright. Your sweet face melted away the bitterness he was feeling towards his teammates.

Nothing else mattered as long as he got to spend time with you.

“Let’s go find a place to put our stuff, Y/n.” He said, his large hand engulfing yours completely. Thick, rough fingers grasped at your dainty ones, gently squeezing before intertwining them together.

Ushijima’s hands were always so warm. The rough calluses from years of volleyball practice tickled your skin pleasantly. But the safety you felt when he held your hand was one of your favorite feelings.

It had always been like this though, while you and Ushijima had only started dating halfway through your second year at Shiratorizawa, the overwhelming feeling of love was always transparent between the two of you.

You had never thought that the stoic, blunt, blank faced captain would be attentive to you. Would care for you as deeply as he did. He never ceased making you feel adored.

“Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendou called out loudly.

Right now, you guys were sitting at one of the many tables that overlooked the main waterpark area, you guys were currently looking at the map of the park, deciding on what you wanted to do first.

“What is it Tendou?” Ushijima asked, staring at the spiky red-haired male making his way over to you guys.

“They’re doing a game of volleyball! Let’s play!” he gestured over his shoulder to one of the pools, a group of people beginning to pull up a net.

You noticed the slight glint in Ushijima’s eye at the mention of the sport, but he glanced over at you in expectation.

“Go play for a bit Toshi-kun.” you said, smiling in amusement. “I’ll keep looking over the map and after you finish, we can go yeah?”

He nodded, getting up from his chair to leave. “Okay. I won’t be long.” he stooped down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He easily removed his black shirt from his body, the thick muscles in his arms flexing deliciously, the hard lines on his stomach revealed for all eyes to see.

But those were yours. You knew his body like the back of your hand; knew all the ways to make him unravel. You knew exactly how he liked to be touched.

He was yours. Simple as that.

You couldn’t help but watch the game for a moment, there was something truly amazing about seeing him play.

You loved his strength and his passion for the sport, the raw power that he possessed was breathtaking.

His play left you in awe every time.

You were staring in awe for a different reason this time. The water ran down his body, seeping into the deep crevices of his muscles, soaking his hair until it was dark and sticking to his forehead. His eyes focused and determined with that familiar glint that he always got when he played.

The tall ace was just so fucking beautiful, it was almost too much to watch.

But again, he was yours. The amount of love you possessed for Ushijima Wakatoshi was indescribable.

But there were times where you couldn’t help but wonder why he was with you; especially now, a group of girls had paused their conversation to stare at the tall male, your boyfriend.

“Look how hot that guy is.” one of them whispered, unconsciously fixing her swimsuit. “Do you think he’s single?”

A frown began to form on your lips as you listened in. A slight pang of insecurity and jealousy flooding in your blood.

You had the utmost trust and confidence in Ushijima, you knew that he would never cheat on you, you knew that he never had a wandering eye… but there were times when that little voice in the back of your head began those ‘what if’ scenarios.

Especially since those girls that were ogling your boyfriend were incredibly pretty.

“Oh my god, look he’s coming right over here.” one of them said in hushed excitement, they all began fixing their hair and their swimsuits. “He’s looking right at us!”

Correction.

Ushijima was looking at you.

His swim trunks hung low on his hips, revealing the deep ‘V’ set at the base of his hips. Water was still trickling down his toned stomach.

A greek fucking god he was.

“Y/n, did you see my win?” he asked in his deep voice as he approached you, grabbing the towel you had set out for him earlier.

However, you were too busy staring at the girls who were now glaring at you. “Is that his girlfriend? There’s no way. He’s too good for her.”

You immediately averted your gaze as soon as you heard those words; your shoulders curling in on themselves as you tried to make yourself as small as possible.

“Y/n?” Ushijima asked, frowning as he sat next to you once more, toweling off his hair.

“Oh! Uh… sorry Toshi-kun… yes, I did see your win! It was great!” you said, a fake smile covering your lips.

Ushijima’s frown deepened, his large hand reaching out to cup your face, he knew something was wrong, that smile of yours… it wasn’t the smile he was used to.

“But you’re back now! So, let’s go to this part!” You said, pointing off in a random direction. You didn’t want Ushijima to see you upset, you didn’t want to ruin the time you had together because of your insecurities.

He stared at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Let’s go then.” he said, grabbing your stuff and your small hand before walking off.

The waterpark was vast, it had so many different pools with different themes, but somehow you guys ended up in a quiet beach themed area.

The serenity and the quietness were actually quite welcoming, and there weren’t that many people there.

Ushijima had set down your guys’ things on one of the folding chairs, before looking at you expectantly.

“Should we swim?” he asked, nodding towards the water.

You nodded eagerly, almost forgetting about the incident earlier. But as you went to remove the shawl that covered your body, you hesitated.

It wasn’t like Ushijima had never seen your body before, but for some reason… you were left feeling entirely unsure about it.

Had those pretty girls and their crude comments gotten to you?

As your mind was reeling, you hadn’t noticed that Ushijima was watching you closely. Once again noticing your odd behavior, your usual sunny and bright expression was incredibly cloudy.

That was something that he absolutely despised, all he wanted was your happiness. If he wasn’t able to give you that… then… he felt like he wasn’t doing his duty to you as your boyfriend, as your protector.

“A-Actually Waka-kun, I think I’ll take a break for a moment.” you finally said, giving him another fake smile.

“You haven’t even gotten in the water today.” he said bluntly, causing you to flinch at the trueness to it.

“W-Well, watching you play volleyball was just so exhausting for me.” you said nervously.

He wasn’t buying it though. He walked over to you, gently grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to him.

“Don’t lie to me Y/n.” he said, carefully cupping your chin and moving your face up so you were gazing directly at him. “What happened? You’re acting strange.”

You stared back at him, his face was contorted into a frown, but you could see the love and the worry clear in his eyes.

“Do you… do you love me Wakatoshi?” you asked quietly.

“Are you stupid?” he asked bluntly, causing you to pout at his mean words. “Of course, I love you. You already know that.”

He wasn’t wrong there. He told you that he loves you almost every day it seemed. Of course, you knew, he never let you forget.

“Are you… attracted to me?” You tried again.

The expression on his face was incredibly confused now. “Why would you ask me that? Of course, I do. If I didn’t we wouldn’t have had se-” “Okay!” you interrupted reaching up to cover his mouth, although even on your tiptoes, you could only reach his chin, face burning in embarrassment at his bold claim.

He removed your hand from his face, cradling both in his large ones as he stared down at you.

“If I wasn’t attracted to you, we wouldn’t be dating.” he said simply. “Why are you asking me these things?”

You sighed softly, gazing at the sand beneath your feet now. “I just… those girls were so pretty… I got insecure…” you trailed off.

He frowned again, what girls?

“I don’t know what girls you’re talking about.” he said. “But you’re beautiful. I don’t see any reason for you to be insecure. I love your body.”

You could feel the blush rising in your cheeks at his statement, a familiar feeling of warmth and love washing away the feelings of insecurity and worry.

“Really?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yes.” he gently cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to gaze at him. His heart racing slightly at the sweet expression on your face, the dark clouds seemed to disappear now, leaving behind that warm, bright face he adored the most.

He stooped down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before standing straight again. “Let’s go swimming now.”

“Can you turn around so I can take off my cover?” You asked.

“Why? You strip down in front of me all the time before we have se-”

“Wakatoshi!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushiwaka #imagine #haikyuu imagines #one shot #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #reader insert #ushijima fluff #ushijima oneshot #ushijima haikyuu

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cinnamon-bebe · 4 years

Text

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader)

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal X Fem!Reader)

Summary: "If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" What happens when you've sacrificed your love for fame and fortune? Despite the glitz and glamour, the Reader is all Pedro can think about. The stars have never been on your side but can you rewrite the plans they have for you?

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Occasional Cursing

Inspired by the song Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

"I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club"

"Baby what's your sign?"

"You're in the wind, I'm in the water

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter

Watching the chemtrails over the country club"

Pedro's POV

The chatter of a hundred people and yet I still only hear your voice. Memories of your words, from years past.

You asked me what my sign was, I told you I was an Aries. You laughed and told me we shouldn't be friends, the stars say so. The stars say we're incompatible, we'd be at each other's throats. I'm a fire sign and you didn't need any more drama. I kissed you for the first time and told you I'd prove you wrong, you simply smiled and looked off to the chemtrails that flew over us.

Memories from years past.

I didn't have much to offer you but I told you that you could take my word. At that time, it was worth more than anything I could have given you.

"You want me to defy the stars?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing your face.

"The stars can go fuck themselves." I told you and kissed you again.

We were so young. We were nobodies. Running through the concrete jungle, with your hand in mine. Sun dress and kisses at midnight convenience stores, splitting a hot dog on a summer day because we needed money for the show at 7.

We used to contemplate the meaning of life over a bottle on our little balcony. I asked you if you were happy and you smiled but did not reply.

"If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" You asked me instead.

"No." I told you. "There's so much more I want to do. I want to be somebody."

I didn't know it then but that was the moment I started to lose you.

Memories from years past.

I find myself sitting at a restaurant now, with more money to line my pockets, pats on the back from strangers. People know my name and it comes out in whispers, as they stare over their expensive plate, getting cold just to catch a glimpse of me.

A beautiful woman sits across from me. As if a movie star isn't a big enough draw, a woman like her only invites more gazes. She looks like she'd just stepped off a screen herself. She gives me all her attention, so much so that she does not register the envious stares from the others around her.

Her lips are moving, perhaps a funny anecdote came to mind or is she telling me about her sister's wedding again that she mentioned before? I cannot tell you, for my mind is elsewhere, with someone else.

"So would you like to come?" She smiles brightly at me, her perfect teeth sitting between her lips, painted in a dusty pink.

"Huh?" I snap out of my daze, embarrassed that I was clearly not paying attention.

"Jule's wedding, did you...want to be my date for the day?" She blushes, hopeful.

"Oh. I...uh. I don't know Kate. I have a pretty packed schedule coming up, I don't know if I'll have time." I try to make up an excuse.

"It's too early isn't?" She bites her lip sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I know we've only been dating for a few weeks, I shouldn't have sprung this up on you so fast."

"No no, please don't be silly. I love weddings!" I try to laugh it off. "It's just that, with the new movie coming up, I need to start preparing before we go into production."

"I understand." She nods with a smile, "Comes with the territory when you're dating a big movie star I guess." She looks at me, I'm not sure if she's anticipating a response but I reciprocate with a grin and wave at the waiter for another drink.

Soon enough, she excuses herself from the table to go to the ladies room and I'm left sitting alone at our spot. I grow tiresome of the incessant chattering from the tables around me and I massage the temples of head, wishing I was at home in the comfort of my bed with just the company of my television.

I see glances from a small table to the side of me, a group of young women clearly too shy to ask for a photograph, egging each other on to make the first move over to me. Their hopes quickly dashed as I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"Pedro?" A familiar voice calls my name.

"Anthony! Fancy seeing you here!" My eyes widen as I pull an old friend down for a hug.

"It's my anniversary with Charlize, we're just celebrating! God I haven't seen you for so long!" He shakes his head, slowly looking me up and down, examining my so-called transformation. I've aged so much since we last we saw each.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"A couple of hours, I actually saw you before but I..uh...I didn't want to interrupt your date."

Date? I swallow the word whole.

"You lucky man. She's very pretty." He comments.

"Yeah, she is."

"You could seem a bit more interested though but those are Charlize's words, not mine." He raises his hands up, letting his wife take the blame.

"I must seem like an ass, don't I?" Poor Kate, how spoilt am I to show a woman like her so little interest. "I haven't dated for so long, it's just hard getting back into the scene that's all."

Anthony let's out an inaudible "oh" and I know he's thinking the same thing, I can practically hear the name sitting on his tongue, desperately wanting to come out.

"How is Y/N?" I break the ice, allowing the elephant in the room an escape before he suffocates along with me.

"She's good, very good actually. She's a documentary film maker now. Her work is amazing, you'd love it." Anthony couldn't help his excitement when speaking about you and I feel an intense pang of sadness and jealousy seeing his eyes light up. To see you, celebrate you. I wonder if you've aged like me or do you still look the same as how I remember. Do you still crinkle your nose every time you hear a bad joke? Do your eyes still get red and glassy when you look at the sky because you're wondering if anyone's looking down on you? I wish I knew.

"Listen, I have to go." Anthony looks back at his wife who gives me a polite wave from a distance.

"It was really good seeing you Anthony, I'm sorry we haven't spoken all these years. It's just with work..." I recycle that old excuse again.

"Don't worry about it...you made it! I know you worked really hard to get where you are now. I know you had to make a lot of sacrifices..." The last sentence, spoken so softly, it was almost drowned out. "I'm genuinely happy for you."

I nod, giving my friend one last hug before I ready for him to turn and leave, instead he hesitates and looks at me.

"Hey Pedro?"

"Yeah?"

"She still lives in the neighbourhood." He looks down at the scarf in his hand before patting me on my arm. "Just so you know."

With that, he waves me goodbye. Walking back to his wife, who he wraps his arm around. The way she naturally rests into him and slips her hand into his coat pocket as they exit the restaurant, I wonder if I'd ever have that level of intimacy with Kate.

__________________________________________________

I sent her home in a taxi. "I have an early morning and need to prep for some meetings", my excuse for her this time. Kate's disappointed expression, as I gave her a kiss on the cheek is the last thing on my mind.

Scuffing the cap of my leather shoes, I kick at the pavement. The world moves past me as I hide myself in the bubble of my thoughts. I have no sense of direction, my legs taking me to no intended destination, only letting the neon lights around guide me to where it desires.

Anthony's words were still ringing in my ears.

Would you want to see me?

My mind reminds me of the last time we were together.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, if I don't leave the city now, I may never get my chanc-"

"Get your chance to do what? Be a star?" You were sat deep in the corner of the sofa, far from me. Your voice calm and monotonous as you watched me pace up and down our tiny apartment. I couldn't decipher your expression, it was as if you knew what I was going to say.

"I want to make something out of my life! I want to prove to everyone and myself that I can make it Y/N. I don't want to waste my life away." I moved towards you, our presence separated by the little vintage coffee table I hated but still bought home because you loved it so much.

"Well then go, I don't want to hold you back from chasing your dreams."

"Y/N-"

"No. It's okay Pedro. I understand...I really do. I don't want to stop you from pursuing what you love." You got up from your spot, you seemed so small to me as you closed the gap between us. Your hand felt so light against my face, like you were disappearing before me. "Don't live in regret because of me."

"Y/N come wi-" I tried to hold you, hold you before you evaporated.

"No. My place is here." You took your hand away, moved back, the space between us grew more and more distant. "I don't have big dreams like you do. I like normality. I like living my life however I want it, do whatever I want, whenever I want. You asked me if I was happy...and I am."

"Would you still be happy without me?"

I stared at you. My gut sank because I already knew this was the end. You didn't have to tell me.

"I don't know..." You managed to smile, even through the gentle tears that formed in your eyes. "But I know you would be without me."

"That's not true." I tried to reach for you but you pulled away.

"We're very different people Pedro...I told you, we're incompatible. It's time we listened to the stars."

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted as I feel a hand rest softly on the small of my back.

"Hello sir, would you like to buy a rose?" An elderly woman smiles up at me. A child stands obediently nearby, holding a bouquet of individually wrapped stems, clearly past his bedtime but still helping Grandma late at night. The child looks tired, sad. Judging by the number of roses still in his hands, they must have had an unlucky day.

"How much for one?" I return her kind smile, taking out my wallet.

"$2. Thank you, thank you so much sir." The old woman sighs in relief calling the child over to bring the flowers for me to pick. Each stem had a handwritten tag with various cheesy sentiments adorned.

....A kiss in exchange for a rose...

...You're more beautiful than any flower but here's one to show you my love anyway...

....Would you be my Valentine?...

....Please forgive me, I was an idiot.

I chuckle at the last one before picking a rose at random.

I take out $100 and watch the old lady's eyes panic as she reaches in her purse to find change. Taking her hand firmly in mine, I assure her it wasn't necessary.

"I'll take one rose for the $100. You keep the rest of the flowers and have a good night okay?"

The woman looks at the child with her mouth agape and then back at me, clearly taken aback by the gesture.

"Sir, are you sure?"

"Yes, take the kid home and get some rest. This one rose itself is worth every dollar." I pat her hand which trembles in mine.

"Thank you! Thank you! Bless you and the woman who receives your rose!"

Taking the child's hand they quickly walk away, whispering to each other and disappearing into the night.

I stare at the flower in my hand and bring it closer to my face, studying the message on the tag.

...Let's defy the stars and write our own destiny.

I stand in the dark of night, illuminated only by the cafe lights ready to turn off for the day. My hand grips the stem as if it weighed a hundred tons yet afraid it would float away like a feather. The frantic honking of the traffic seems to taunt me, the laughter from the bars nearby seem to be mocking this idiot of a man standing in the middle of the streets, holding a flower he paid $100 for.

"Just do it!" I hear a young boy shout at his friend attempting a skateboard trick up the block.

Just do it. I repeat to myself. Just fucking do it.

"Taxi!"

_________________________________________________

I remember these steps, we used to sit here with the neighbours' kids. Charlie, I think that was his name? I remember little Charlie proposing to you with a plastic ring and threatening to get his kindergarten buddies on me, simply for existing. I can't help but laugh at that memory.

Everyone was in love with you, the young, the old. They couldn't help but fall for your charms, your kindness, the way you'd smile at them even if you've never spoken a word to each other. Everyone was under your spell, including me.

You told me you loved me on these steps.

I had gotten back from a bad audition and couldn't bear to go home to you. I sat here for hours until you saw me from the balcony and came down. You didn't ask me anything. You just sat with me as we watched the kids run up and down the block, racing each other, teasing each other. I looked at you and you gave me a kiss on the nose.

"I love you."

You said it so quietly at first that I pretended I didn't I understand.

You rolled your eyes and pulled my face into yours, telling me you loved me over and over again as you smothered me with your kisses.

That was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Walking past our faded figures, I enter the building and see that nothing has changed.

The walls were the same duck egg green. The bulletin board covered in layers of flyers and advertisement, some new, with plenty dated months back. I wouldn't be surprised if the audition ads I tried out for from years ago were still there.

The smell of various cuisines mingle together to form its own unique indecipherable aroma.

A comforting aroma.

I look to the elevator, still out of order. Obviously.

We only lived on the third floor, the stairs will be fine.

I prepare myself for the incline when a voice calls out to me.

"Where are you going?"

I turn around and see our old building superintendent, decked out in his uniform. Stanley.

"Stan! It's me Pedro! Wow, you're still here!" I walk to him.

"Who?" He looks me up and down, completely confused as to who the hell I am.

"Pedro from 3B upstairs? I used to live with Y/N...maybe you don't remember me because of the moustache." I rub the bottom of my nose sheepishly.

"No...I don't remember you."

Old Stanley, perhaps age is catching up to him.

"I'm just going to see Y/N." I try to resume my journey but he stops me once more.

"No entry into the building if you're not a resident!" He points to the sign on the wall.

"Since when was that a rule?" I throw my hand in the air.

"Since today. We have too many unsavoury men try to come into the building, how do I know if you really know Miss Y/L/N? I'm not letting any potential predators or burglars into the building."

"But Stan she-"

Pointing to the sign on the wall again, he raises an angry brow. Not wishing a full body beat down by ol' Stan, I take myself back out the building like a bad dog.

I sit on the steps, sighing in defeat. I try to convince myself that coming here is a mistake.

"Defy the stars...pfft! You've been in way too many movies Pedro." I mumble to myself, as I dig my thumb nail into the stem of the rose.

Perhaps we're only given the choice to rewrite our destiny but it doesn't mean destiny would just sit idly by and let you do whatever you want. It's probably for the best. What would I say anyway?

Running my hand through my hair, I get up to leave. The adrenaline from earlier had drained so quickly out of me, that its left me a fatigued mess. Move on Pedro, it's time to go home.

"Hey movie star." A voice calls from above. "You looking for me?"

Your hair falls past your face as you lean over the balcony and in that moment I feel my heart break into a million pieces.

There you are.

Standing before me, even more beautiful than when you left, if that is even possible.

You're wearing a simple white vest and grey shorts, one leg rubbing softly against the other. Your skin bears the warm orange glow reflected from the lights inside your apartment.

You look so raw, so delicate.

Every pulse in my body aches seeing you again.

"Wow." I breathe. "You look..."

You hide your laugh and I can see you blushing from behind your hand.

"Thanks. You look great too. I'm like the...um..." You rub under your nose with your finger.

"Thank you, I grew it out for a role but now people tell me I look like their grandma without it." I shrug, much to your amusement.

"What are you doing here?" You speak, more softly, more seriously.

How do I even respond to this question? I was out on a date with another woman but I bumped into our old friend who told me I should find you? Or should I go with I met an old woman and her kid, who I'm pretty sure were cupid's little minions, sent down to earth to give me a rose and to fuck with me?

"I was just in the neighbourhood. I wanted to see if you wanted to um...go out for a coffee?" I lie.

You look at me incredulously, clearly seeing through my bullshit.

"Everything is shut by now." You simply respond.

"Oh...well maybe we can just talk then?"

You tap the metal rails, where you lay your arms. Are you contemplating whether to come down or throw a bucket of water over me? I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Without saying a word, you disappear out of sight. The lights in your apartment switches off.

What does this mean? Are you off to bed?

Before I could ruminate any more, the doors open from behind me and you slip through.

God, you look even better up close.

My hands instinctively reach out to touch you but I withdraw quickly before you could see. You had wrapped yourself in a fleecy blanket, the threads a deep purple.

Without saying a word, you sit down on the step and I can only follow suit, my mind can no longer make decisions for itself it seems.

You smell the same, that same soft floral scent I used to love. The one I used to breathe in when I'd hold you close to me in bed because I didn't want you to leave for work.

Our knees are so close, they almost touch.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

For a minute I don't know how to respond, I just don't want to stop looking at you.

"I was...I was wondering if you were thinking about me?"

You laugh, I laugh too. Of course you weren't.

"I think about you all the time." You tell me so casually, it catches me off guard.

"You do?" I whisper in disbelief.

"It's hard not to when you're on every other billboard in the city."

Oh.

"I think about you all the time too Y/N."

You smile and look up at the sky. The night is aligned with many stars tonight and they all call for your attention but mine. I feel greedy staring at you but I'm simply making up for all the nights that I was alone without you, all those kisses I've shared with women that weren't you.

"What do you think the stars are telling us tonight?" I ask.

You grin and without looking back at me, you say "I think the stars are laughing at us."

"Do you think the stars have changed their mind about us?"

You finally turn to me, your eyes drop. "I don't think that's how it works Pedro."

"If this is the life the stars have planned for me, a life without you, then I don't want it Y/N."

"Pedro-"

"I thought if I made a name for myself, if people knew who I was, then I'd be sure of who I am...but who I'm meant to be, who I want to be...is to be with you." Your eyes meet mine, coloured with emotions you are scared to express. "I look for you everywhere I go Y/N, in every women I meet but you are always a world away."

"We don't even know each other anymore Pedro."

"You are the only one who has always known who I am, even before me Y/N. I'm still as strange and as wild as I have always been. I'm still as messy and as clumsy as I was before. I still love cheap corner store liquor and dancing terribly in public. I still look at chemtrails whenever they past me...because they remind me of you."

"Chemtrails are bad for you, they say they're chemicals." You tell me, your voice low and expressionless.

"If I die with you as my last thought, it won't be so bad."

I finally find the courage to reach for you and you don't recoil from me, you let me gently run my finger against the hair that falls down past your face. You close your eyes and I selfishly take you, pulling you towards me.

I rest my forehead against yours and I savour this moment where I can be close to you and not let it be a memory.

"What if I've changed?" You whisper.

"Well then I'll spend the rest of my life getting to know you again."

"If I told you to run away with me tonight, would you?" You open your eyes to see me, your expression as serious as ever.

"You're my home Y/N. I'll go wherever you go. Even if it's to another galaxy, we'll drive a little red Corvette into space together and leave this all behind."

You smile and tug on the bottom of your lip. "You think the stars would still allow us to go to space?"

"Fuck the stars." I say as I take your lips.

Oh, how I've missed the sweetness of your taste; in this moment you are spoiling me rotten. You wrap your arms around me and allow the blanket to drop from your shoulders. The only stars that mattered now are those in our eyes. They're telling me the future and it's you. It's always been you.

The sirens of the city and the plane overhead may be loud but I hear nothing over the sound of your heart beat.

You pull away and we both laugh.

In this moment, we are perfect. I am no longer the famous celebrity that belonged to everyone. I am not a son and you are no one's daughter.

We only belong to each other.

I see you shiver and look towards the door.

"Let's go inside." You get up and take my hand, guiding me back to our home. The one I've longed for ever since I left.

The building is quiet, everyone asleep by this hour but old Stan at his desk. I try to shuffle past as inconspicuously as I could, my hand entwine with yours.

"Welcome back Mr Pascal." Stanley greets us as clear as day, his head not even looking up from above his phone.

"Wha- so you do remember me!"

Sly old dog.

Stanley doesn't respond and concentrates on his screen instead.

You shake your head and pull me up the steps but not before I set down my lucky rose on the desk.

"Good night Stan."

I call out before I chase my love up the stairs, both of us ready to write our next chapter together. I don't know what it will entail but I know if you're in it, it will be the greatest adventure I'll ever take.

"Kids these days." Stan sighs, closing the article on his phone and clicking on a familiar app. Putting his feet up, he relaxes with a smile on his face as the Mandalorian theme song begins to play.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #ww1984 #maxwell lord #oberyn martell #game of thrones #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #fanfiction #chemtrails #lana del rey

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bisexualdaemon · 3 years

Text

mad woman: iii (nessian)

a/n: *taps mic* does this thing still work? OH hey! hello! yes, this fic is properly old now and probably everyone thought I abandoned it but joke is on everyone including myself lmao...turns out I love these two..and after acosf well I would 10/10 die for them. so here we go! a ride to be sure! people do be getting naked!

warnings: 4.8k of smut (like woah). language. guilt.

Nesta wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing.

It had seemed like a good idea. Everyone in certain social circles knew the truth about Hewn City. Knew the dance club for the front it was for the shadowy bowels beneath. Here, she had thought yesterday morning, here she could be on even ground with him.

Him.

Cassian's hand was still in hers as she led them both down the long hallway toward room 3B. His words before hadn’t completely hidden his reactions to her clothes, her face, her body. She smiled to herself remembering the slight widening of his eyes. He probably thought he hadn’t reacted, but she knew. All men are weak. Just put on a dress and show some thigh and she knew she’d get his attention. Even if it was probably all for show. Cassian was a fine actor.

She thought back to four days ago. Or was it five, she thought. They had started to bleed together after the bender she’d gone on after wishing Cassian death on the phone with Amren.

Feyre was in her apartment for the second time in a week. An unprecedented occurrence. If the judgment in her eyes was any indication, she had come to check on things. Baby sister coming to her rescue. How rich. She stood on the carpet again, with her perfect heeled sandals and her tidy camel trench coat. Thankfully, she’d left the hat at home this time. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest as she surveyed the room.

“I see you’ve already made yourself at home again,” she observed, picking up a half-empty bottle of gin, “I’ll send Alis this afternoon.”

“I don’t want anyone else in my fucking apartment, Feyre,” Nesta cringed at the lingering slur in her voice.

“So you can drown yourself in this shit alone?” She held up an empty bottle of vodka in her other hand. “Nesta, it’s only been a few days since I was here the last time. Can you even stand right now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nesta sneered, settling back into the couch cushions. She couldn’t, but Feyre was a bitch for even asking, so she spat back, “At least I cope with my problems legally, High Lady.” In a fantasy world, smoke would have curled from her lips when she exhaled those last words.

Feyre stilled, breathing evenly. Nesta wasn’t sure if she was containing her rage or accepting the shame she had to be feeling.

“I see you gave Amren a call.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Nesta was surprised. Amren had seemed like one of Feyre’s inner circle, no matter how much money the High Lord and Lady may have given her.

“No, I told Amren that what you did with her number was your business,” she wrung her hands. She was….nervous. How odd. Feyre Archeron was a lot of things, but nervous was rarely one of them.

“Well,” Nesta exhaled, the anger fleeting like wind taken out of her sails, “yes, I called. Everything was very cryptic until someone showed up here who was not a therapist and started taking his clothes off. Honestly, what were you thinking, Feyre?!”

“I…” she hesitated, sinking down on the other end of the couch with Nesta, bracing her elbows on her knees, “I don’t know. I was desperate. I just want you to feel something again, Nes.” She hadn’t called her that since they were children. Nesta felt a little pang in her chest. I need another drink. “I know it’s...unconventional, but it really does help. Rhys and I...well, you know there’s a lot of stress involved in our lives.”

“So you fuck it out with strangers that you pay to keep silent??” Nesta asked incredulously.

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot seedier than it actually is, but,” she huffed, swallowing back some kind of emotion, “yes. There’s a lot of….relief, if you just give into it. Amren knows what she’s doing.”

“Are you and Rhys having problems?” It was the only explanation Nesta could understand for this. I mean it was one thing to hire a hooker if you weren’t getting any, but from the forced lunches and “sister dates” that Elain made the three of them go on, Feyre had always seemed to have a very active sex life.

“Oh, God, no,” Feyre visibly relaxed, caught off guard by even the implication. That made Nesta’s stomach relax. She hadn’t even realized she cared. “Rhys and I are fine, stronger even. There is power in giving up power, especially when you grapple with it on a daily basis. But this isn’t about me or Rhys.” Feyre leaned over and reached out to take Nesta’s hands, but stopped when Nesta visibly tensed at the mere idea of contact. “I’m really not lying when I say I think a little relief would help you.”

“Why do you insist I need help?” Nesta ground out through her teeth.

Feyre sighed and stood. There was something settling over her face, deep in her eyes. Sadness. “Suit yourself, sister.” She stood and, to Nesta’s surprise, took a swig from the half-empty gin bottle she’d pushed in Nesta’s face earlier. Her face screwed up in a grimace, “Jesus, how do you drink that shit?”

“I don’t even taste it anymore.” Nesta looked off, toward the window. Toward the empty corner where the wedding dress had hung for months. She’d taken it down that night after he had left.

That bone-deep sadness returned to Feyre’s eyes, “Alis will be here this afternoon.”

She left without another word.

Nesta sighed, catching Cassian’s attention, but she said nothing. She kept a steady flow of booze in her veins after Feyre left for three more days, sometimes just laying in bed for hours while the world spun. She saw Tomas, saw Elain, but most often she saw hazel eyes and bold, dark lines inked across a broad, tanned chest. Those were the torturous hours, when the desire would rise in her, when she would feel something just like Feyre said. Even if it made her soul burn. He was haunting her. He’d left her alone, angry and wet, for what? Because she refused to accept his “help”? Wasn’t this all just fucking anyway? What difference did it make how she responded?

The frustration had overwhelmed her until she finally realized that it didn’t matter how much she drank, he wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t chase him into a whiskey-soaked oblivion like she could the memories of her fiancé and her sister. He was real. He was still breathing. He was making her life a living hell.

He was going to pay for it.

So, she’d called Amren back. Had made him meet her here of all places. Had put on a dress and a pair of heels and more makeup than she’d been planning to wear at her own wedding. A costume. A mask. If he was going to “help” her, at least it wouldn’t seem like her that he was helping. She’d fuck him out of her life on her terms. Just once wouldn’t damn her to hell, right?

Nesta had never been to Hewn City before. Clubbing had never been her style. She was more of a library, bookworm kind of girl. But now that she was here, she kind of liked the secrecy of it all, the discretion everyone had whispered about. It made her feel like a character in one of her books, a different kind of escape than booze offered, with the rouge-tinted lights and shadowy, padded hallways. She could be anyone here. She would be anyone here. Anyone but herself.

“I think this is it,” Cassian’s deep rumble sounded behind her. They stopped in front of a painted black door, the marker flickering “3B” in the light of the candle sconce behind them. Nesta fit the key into the lock and turned it.

The room was cooler than the hall, but she wasn’t sure the temperature was what made her break out in gooseflesh. There was a massive four-poster bed in the center of the room covered in black satin sheets drawn back against a deep crimson comforter. Only a handful of hanging exposed bulbs lit the space, giving the boudoir decoration some industrial finishes. It was like a scene out of some vampire film noir. The light reflecting off heavy restraint cuffs at each corner of the bed only heightened the effect. A dark armoire loomed in the corner. Nesta was sure that if she opened it, she would find any number of instruments with which to tease and taunt Cassian with. This place was a sex dungeon and she had paid to be a mistress tonight.

Cassian’s mistress.

Nesta took a deep breath and settled into this new character, some confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted and knew exactly how to take it from a willing participant. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed and leaned back against it to look at him. He was so quiet tonight, looking around the room like she had, taking it all in.

“Cat got your tongue?” Nesta proded.

“No,” he hesitated, stuffing his hands into his front pockets like an embarrassed school boy rocking forward on his toes. It only lasted for a second before he hid it behind a smirk, “no, just a little….confused?”

“About what?” She crossed her feet at the ankle and let the deep slit on her dress fall open, revealing almost every inch of her long legs. His eyes widened momentarily before he cleared his throat. Was he….nervous?

“Well, uhh,” he was stammering now, the false bravado unable to keep up with the situation unfolding in front of him, “if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do.”

“You mean, Cassian, self-proclaimed sex therapist, doesn’t know what to do?” The teasing in her voice blushed his cheeks pink, “well, color me surprised. I thought it would have been clear by now.”

“It’s not that it’s...you’re…” he cocked his head, “different.” His eyes followed every inch of bare skin from her painted toe to the top of the slit an inch below her hip. “Something changed.”

Why does he make this so damn difficult?

“Yes, well,” she replied, biting her bottom lip for effect, “I decided that I want you to help me.” His head straightened.

“Do you?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, emphasizing the size of his biceps. His nervous energy cooled in seconds, giving way to something else, something that had been simmering beneath the ice.

“I do,” she slipped back a little farther onto her palms, tilting her head back. She was a predator, setting a pretty, needy trap for him. If he got off on a savior complex, she’d play the part until she got what she wanted. “I just want to feel normal again.” She smiled internally as she watched her words wash over him. Watched him take a few deep breaths, watched him move for the first time since they walked in the room.

He kept his body closed, his arms a barrier between the two of them, as he stalked forward. Nesta stopped breathing, feeling his gaze shift from confusion and questions to calculated assessment. He paused in front of her and bent down, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her slim waist. The space between them was thinner than the air atop the mountains in Illyria.

“I think…” he looked her in the eye, no blinking, no touching, just a wisp of mint from his mouth, “that’s a load of bullshit.”

A rush of fury, so white hot it blinded her, licked down her arm. She raised her open hand and ripped it through the air.

Only to be caught in an iron grip.

“Ah, ah, dear Nesta,” his lips curled up on one side, “I like a little pain with my pleasure, but not without my consent.”

All she could do was stare him down as she huffed, imagining the breath leaving her nostrils in puffs of hot smoke. A caged dragon in pretty clothes begging to get out. But hell would freeze over before she moved first. She could feel the tension between them, feel the electricity pulsing through him where his fist gripped her wrist. Maybe it was her pheromone-laced delusion but she thought he might want this as much as she did. He wanted her challenge, her adamant wall. He wanted to break her, remake her. Little did he know that you can’t break what’s already broken.

Just a character, just a role to play...

“Oh, come on, Cassian,” she tried to free her hand but he remained hard as stone around her wrist. He hadn’t pinned her legs though. She slid one bare leg up the inside seam of his jeans. The muscles flexed and contracted underneath the well-fit fabric, higher and higher, until she reached the apex. He hissed. A feline smile spread across her face when she felt it, felt him, hard and begging for her. “I think you want this a little more than you’re willing to admit, more than you’re allowed to admit.”

His nostrils flared, barely imperceptible, but even the smallest changes in him drew her notice. Why? It was a question she didn’t want to even ask herself, but it kept coming, night and day. Why did this night feel like the edge of a dangerous cliff? Why did his agreement to come tonight feel like more than just a business arrangement? Why did the tension between them feel like her only anchor to this life? She pressed harder into him, needing to move, to get this over with, to fuck him right out of her head.

“Nesta.” His voice brought her back from those questions that haunted her like the inked lines hidden underneath his t-shirt. So close now, so close to her fingers, her mouth. She looked up at him, aware of her knee still cradled between his legs.

“Cassian.” Her voice practically sang. The song of his own personal siren.

He was so still. If he hadn’t said her name she wouldn’t have been sure he was even breathing. He placed his hand between his groin and her knee and stepped backward. His pupils were wide, endless pools, black as tar and eating at the hazel surrounding them. He was drunk on the lust, drowning in it just like she was.

“Take off that dress before I rip it off.”

A bone-deep shiver ran from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes at the command, reaching back up to settle between her thighs. She flushed from the heat of his gaze on her skin as she stood, reaching behind her neck to loose the three pearl buttons between her pride and her desire. Fuck it. The dress pooled at her feet.

The corner of her lip tugged upward when she heard his breath catch. She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. Lingerie had felt like too much and her regular cotton cheekies would have been too conspicuous beneath her close-fitting dress, so nothing had been the only choice. The right choice if Cassian’s jeans had anything to say about it, clearly growing tighter by the second.

Nesta backed herself onto the bed again, digging in with her heels to push herself toward the headboard as gracefully as she could while burning alive. And she was burning under his gaze. Every flick of his dilated pupils, from her bare legs, to her full breasts, to her smooth stomach, to her glistening cunt, she burned. When her head thudded against the carved cherry wood headboard, his eyes finally met hers. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

“See something you want, Cassian?” she asked, struggling to keep her tone innocent, indifferent.

“Depends, Nes.” She ignored the heat that pooled at the nickname, especially when he said, “what are you offering?”

She bit her lip at his words. And spread her knees open for him. Now, come and take it.

He went wholly still as pink creeped into his tan cheeks. He was fucking blushing at her cunt on display for him. A filthy thought entered her head and before she could shut it down, she reached between her legs and traced a finger over her slit. The low lights flickered in the reflection off the wetness laced there before her finger disappeared….

Right between Nesta’s wine-colored lips.

His eyes tracked that finger in and out of her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around it, moaning at the taste of her arousal, the eroticism of the gesture. She released her finger with a pop and smiled wickedly at him.

“Want to taste?”

Cassian moved swift as a thunderclap, as if her words were paddles jumpstarting his heart into quick, heavy beats. He pulled off his shirt. Those thick, black lines of ink that haunted her dreams were on full display, curling around his biceps and across his broad shoulders. She wanted to trace them with her tongue, taste the salt on his skin. He didn’t bother with some cliché striptease. His fingers fumbled with his belt, fumbled with the top button and zipper of those tight jeans. He tripped out of them, splaying his hands across the rumpled comforter as he kicked his pants somewhere across the room, losing his shoes and socks at some point between.

She would have smirked at the clumsiness, questioned his self-proclaimed prowess as a sex therapist, if her throat hadn’t gone completely dry at the size of him. Even through his underwear there was no mistaking it—massive, just like every inch of the rest of his body. Of course, he had a cock to match.

He grinned, following her eyes, guessing her train of thought. The bed dipped as he crawled toward her, full prince of cats on display again. A man who knew what people saw when they looked at him and enjoyed that power, that raw sexual energy dripping from his every pore. With that glint in his eye, she was happy to play along—for now.

Every thread in the expensive duvet cover beneath her set a thousand sparks rocketing across her skin. His movements were measured, purposefully kept from touching her skin. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of him with every inch forward, every inch toward where she wanted him. All of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Nesta started to fidget with anticipation, ready for him to spread her open and take, take, take, but she wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t reach or claw or whimper, no matter how much she wanted to.

Feyre might be paying, but she would own him before the end. Even if she had to sacrifice her soul to do it.

When his mouth finally made contact with her skin, a whisper of a kiss along the inside of her thigh, it was a struggle not to moan. Loud. She was strung tighter than a bowstring and he knew. Her traitor body was going to beg for him with or without words, so she opened her mouth instead.

“Gonna fuck me senseless, Cassian?”

His head jerked up from between her thighs, that feline smile turning her molten. “You know, Nesta. I think I’ll shut you up instead.”

Someone as big as he was shouldn’t have been able to move that fast. Shouldn’t have been able to cover her entire body with his and claim her mouth between one second and the next. His hands curled behind her neck to pull her firmly to him and devoured her. Their tongues clashed, dancing together, as she moaned into his mouth. Whether it was surprise or pleasure or both that pulled it from her, she wasn’t sure. The mint and adrenaline still laced his tongue, this time with a natural smokiness that she hadn’t noticed before. He licked at her, sucked at her lower lip. She nipped at him, teeth as much a weapon as her words, her hands. She dragged her nails down his naked back and drew a hiss from him, maybe some blood too if the tang of iron was any indication.

It only spurred him.

“You know these lips taste better when they’re not liquor-stained,” he panted. He studied her face, she knew it must be flushed from his kiss, and slowly ground his hips into hers, with the same bruising intensity he claimed her mouth, drenching himself in her through the thin fabric of his underwear. Those really need to disappear. Her fingers continued their violent path down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, the only barrier left between everything she wanted. Wanted, never needed. They danced around to the front of him and sought purchase.

Another moan, loud and throaty filled the space between them.

My God.

“Off, off, off, off,” she was chanting when he finally released her mouth to move down to her neck, surely to mark her like she’d marked his back. It was going to be tit for tat with him. “OFF,” she clawed at his hips. He raised up and smirked at her.

“You just have to ask, Nes.” His lips curled to the side, “maybe say please.”

She held his gaze. Please. It was a chant in her head but she couldn’t say it. He saw it there, the challenge, the struggle, but this was a battle of wills. And Cassian was a seasoned general.

He ducked his head and nosed at her jaw, along her throat, peppering her skin with close-mouthed kisses. “Just say the word,” he ground into her again, not nearly the friction she wanted. His hands found her peaked breasts and traced her nipples, slow circles at first, then quick pinches accented by his teeth at her throat. There was no pattern, no guessing, no preparation. Every nerve ending was a live wire, screaming for his touch.

Nesta Archeron was going to die here. The flames in her belly were going to consume her and she was going to die at a high-priced sex club. And maybe she should. It might be worth it. Rhysand would never live it down. She wouldn’t sacrifice her pride for an orgasm. But, as his hips did another slow roll against hers and he scraped at her neck with his teeth, her resolve imploded.

“Please,” she croaked. She felt his smile against her skin.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she said a little louder, still barely a whisper.

“That’s awfully quiet, Nesta,” he licked at her collarbone and made her eyes roll back into her head. “Makes me think you don’t really want it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her head thrashing, “please, PLEASE.”

“Okay, okay,” he pushed up to lean back on his heels above her. “No need to shout.” The tease in his voice forced an impatient growl from her. He cocked an eyebrow as he toyed with the elastic waistband on his underwear, slowly pulling it down below the defined V set low on his abdomen, revealing inch after inch of smooth, tanned skin, until finally they were gone and there was nothing left between them but sexual tension and a promise of release.

Her eyes raked down his muscled body, unable to keep her hand from reaching to touch the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, reaching lower. His fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Uh, uh, princess,” her cheeks flamed as he lifted her hand to his lips and left a tender kiss on her palm, “it’s my turn.”

She blinked and his mouth was on her. His hair, tufted at the back of his head, bobbed between her legs as he lapped up the wetness that had been pooling since they started their games tonight. Since he first leaned against her door frame, if she was being honest with herself. His lips wrapped around her clit and when he moaned around her, she saw stars. Her toes curled. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. Her knees bent to capture his head forever between her thighs but he caught them before she could crush him with the force of her pleasure.

It might have been hours, days. He held her spread open and licked and suckled and fucked her entrance with his tongue. Careful, slow strokes to stoke the fire ripping through her veins but not enough to send her to her peak. Her thighs began shaking; her fingers knotted into his hair and held his mouth against her. His name was a holy chant in this unholy place.

“Cassian,” she sobbed as a tear rolled down her temple and into her sweat-soaked hair.

He groaned and release ripped through her. Waves of pleasure locked her body in a silent scream, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. He kept stroking her through it, his tongue undulating against her clit over and over as her body jerked involuntarily once, twice before relaxing completely, melting into a warm, soft puddle of flesh.

There were no words. No thoughts. Nothing inside her head except for the truth of it. No one has ever made her feel like that, forced that kind of pleasure from her. Her harsh breaths were the only sound in the room as Cassian traced patterns on her inner thigh. She blinked furiously, clearing her eyes of any emotions that might betray her. Looking down, she caught his eye and his answering smile made her forget her own name.

He was looking up at her, his cheeks pink from the heat and pressure between her thighs. His hair was a fucked out mess. He looked...content. As if her orgasm was all he wanted, like he could do it again and again and not care if she ever touched his cock even though she’d never wanted anything more in her life.

But...what if he doesn't want that?

She tensed suddenly. He was an escort after all. This wasn’t his choice. What if all of this is just an act? She knew she shouldn’t care. She was a paying customer and shouldn’t care what he wanted. What his desires were. She should just take her pleasure, satiate her own desire, and leave. That had been the plan when she came here. Hell, she had just been acting when this all started.

Until he gave her the best orgasm of her entire fucking life. Until he called her on her bullshit, got naked, and got on his knees for her. Until he made her gasp his name and fucking cry for the privilege.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—

I don’t deserve this.

Her breath caught in her throat. I need to get out of here.

She sat up so quickly her head spun. Her fingers caught on the restraints attached to the headboard and she recoiled. What am I doing? Why did I think this was a good idea? Cassian jerked up from between her legs at the motion, the perfect window for her to rip her legs from his vicinity and swing them to the floor.

“Nesta, what’s wrong?”

She heard him, confused, still panting, but she couldn’t find the words to answer him. The panic was bitter, the taste in stark relief to Cassian’s tongue. Stop! Where is my fucking dress? Her head swiveled frantically. A slip of navy stuck out from under the armoire in the corner. She lurched forward, grabbing and pulling on the dress that barely covered her ass, left nothing to the imagination. What have I done?

“Nesta, what is happening?” Cassian was louder this time. Loud enough to draw her eyes. He was leaning on one elbow, wide-eyed and still painfully hard. At this angle, she could see the angry red marks across his shoulder, darkening with dried blood in some places. A damning souvenir for what she had done. A claiming.

She couldn’t ignore the voice in her head. A betrayal.

“Was—” he sat up and leaned on his knees, “was it not good?” Some unfamiliar emotion danced across his eyes as he waited. She stared and stared and stared. “Did I—“ he kept hesitating, “did I not make you feel good?”

It was the doubt, thick and traitorous, in his voice that made her silently turn around and walk out the door.

------ *runs away*

tags: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron @awesomelena555 @mysticalunicole @lordof-bloodshed @courtofjurdan

#acotar #acosf #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #sjm #sarah j maas #nessian #nessian fic #nessian au #acotar au #acotar smut #my writing

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years

Text

"And I’m damn proud of you, because you survived another day." (Ms. Venable x reader,

hiyaa :3 i wrote this yesterday while we were stuck in traffic...so idk lol

summary: You are depressed coz of the apocalypse and your girlfriend wants to help you..idk i’m bad in smt like that :’)

warnings: depression, talking about suicide, pills

“momma im in love with google translate”

"Maybe I'm going crazy now, but I saw a young woman in the hallway in front of the library last night", Mr. Gallant said at the dinner tonight

Timothy just shrugged.

"It must have been some Gray who got lost", he muttered and stabbed the little cube in front of him with his fork.

Mister Gallant rolled his eyes.

"No I swear!", Replied the hairstylist. "I know all the Grays by now and I've never seen her before and she wore purple."

Stu, who was sitting next to the man, suppressed a laugh.

"You've probably seen a ghost, I said it's only a question of time before the first of us commits suicide."

"Or until Miss Venable killed everyone who didn't obey her rules", Coco added in a whisper and made the others laugh.

Unlucky Miss Venable wasn't deaf.

"What nonsense .." hissed the red-haired woman at the other end of the table.

"I promise you, the only ghost that will haunt around here is Mister Gallant's, should he wander around the Outpost one more time."

Immediately everyone stopped laughing and all eyes were on Miss Venable, who now stood up without a word to go out of the room.

"Or her ghost, if she continues to act as if we were her subjects ..", Coco mumbled quietly before she turned back to her 'dinner'.

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

Miss Venable ran through the corridors of her outpost to get to her room.

What those idiots at the table had said worried her. Not because she cared about other people's opinions, simply because they were right. The thing with the ghost was just a joke, but it was, what you basically were...a ghost.

Ever since you first met before all of this, you had been struggling with depression and an apocalypse was unlikely to improve your condition. She had decided it was better if the other residents of the outpost didn't find out about your existence. Which wasn't a problem, because most of the day you were just lying in bed tired anyway.

"Hey princess .." she said gently as she entered your bedroom. Her eyes fell on you in concern. Like the days before, you lay buried in your blanket and the only thing what she could see was your disheveled hair, which had become greasy. One would have thought you would have been dead, had your chest not slowly raised and lowered again.

Mina closed the door behind her, before crossing the room to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. She carefully pulled the covers down to reveal your face. Without emotion, you stared with bleary eyes into the flame of the torch that hung on the wall.

"How do you feel?", Mina whispered and pushed a few strands of your hair from your face.

"I missed you ..", you answered in a dry voice and Mina could feel a pang in her chest when she heard it.

"I'm here now", she muttered as she put her hand on your cheek.

She looked sadly into your cloudy eyes and knew that you probably wished you weren't alive any longer.

You cleared your throat and turned your gaze to Mina. And Mina could see that you were trying to bring a small smile to your chapped lips.

"I took my pills .." you said and Mina's eyes lit up at your words.

"Thats great, princess!", she called and smiled lovingly at you.

"I'm proud of you."

"And I ate the cubes", you added as you pull the blanket a little higher over your shoulders. "Even they were disgusting."

"You are such a good girl", Mina muttered before bending over to press her lips against the warm skin of your temple.

"I'll have a quick shower before I get to bed with you", she explained and got up to look at you thoughtfully.

"Do you want to join me?"

You looked at her for a few seconds with narrowed eyes.

"I look like shit don't I?" You finally said as you stood up with shaky legs and held onto her arm, which she held out to you.

"Don't say that", Mina replied as she led you into your bathroom. "You are beautiful as always, Princess".

Together with Mina's help, you manage to shower. It was unbelievably exhausting for Mina to stand so long without her cane and the fact that she now also helped you to wash, bordered on a miracle.

After both of you showered and dried your hair, you climbed into your bed and you could finally curl up in your girlfriend's arms.

"I forgot to ask how your day was". Mina heard you whisper in the dark while rubbing her hands over the bare skin of your back.

She pondered briefly what to answer you. Her day had been shitty. Those selfish, rich assholes were just annoying.

"My day was okay", she mumbled and suddenly she remembered the conversation at dinner.

"Why didn't you tell me, you were in the library last night?" She added without sounding reproachful.

"How do you know that?" You asked confused as you started to play with the hem of her purple nightgown. When Mina didn't answer you continued.

"I wanted to read last night so I went to the library to get a book."

Mina hesitated a few seconds before answering. Somewhere it was great, you had left your room for the first time in weeks, but on the other hand she disapproved the thought of you, wandering through the corridors of the outpost at night.

"You could have woken me up, I would have gone with you." she said finally.

"Did you at least be able to read?"

"I gave up after the first three sentences", you sighed.

"It was just too much."

Your girlfriend wrapped her arms around you a little tighter when she heard the regret in your voice.

"It's okay .." she hummed. "The only important thing right now, is that you survived another day. I'm proud of you princess", she muttered, suppressing a yawn before closing her eyes and falling asleep a few minutes later.

She told you that every evening.

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

You had been in this outpost for almost two months and you got tired of waking up every morning with a fear of opening your eyes. Because a part of you still had the hope,that it was just a nightmare. But whenever you opened your eyes, instead of staring out of the window of your bedroom, you stared into the fire of the torch, thag hung next to the bed and all your hopes died.

You found yourself ungrateful and you could think of countless people, who would have deserved your place in the Outpost much more than you did. You weren't anyone and just because Mina was your girlfriend you were still alive. That was unfair.

Of course you could see how worried Mina was about you and you hated yourself for it. The world had come to an end and Mina, as the head of this outpost, paid her attention to you, the poor little wreck that couldn't even shower by itself.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders when a slight breeze made you shiver and sent goosebumps all over your body. It had been a stupid idea to leave your room again, but you had to promise Mina that you would take your pills and now you were looking for the kitchen, if there was something like that here, to get a glass of water.

Usually Mina brought you these things and you couldn't blame her for forgetting today.

It was currently 10 p.m. and you were already in your pajamas while walking barefoot through the outpost to get some water.

"Oh my god. Gallant was right, it's haunted here", a shrill voice suddenly called from behind you and made you flinch. You turned slowly around and looked with narrowed eyes into the face of a blonde woman, who came up to you and stood in front of you with folded arms.

"Are you a purple?" She asked you frowning and you nodded curtly.

"And whats your name?" She asked further.

"Y / N", you mumbled and decided at the same moment, that you didn't like this woman.

"Well, Y / N, I've never seen you here before",

the blonde cocked her head and looked at you piercingly as

you looked away from her and looked embarrassed at your feet.

"I spend a lot of time in my room."

"Your room?" Asked the woman confused.

"Which room do you live in exactly? To the best of my knowledge, all of the rooms in the outpost are occupied. You can't have a room of your own-"

"I should go now", you muttered as you turned to move away from this annoying woman, but she grabbed your wrist.

"Just wait until Miss Venable finds out", she said, looking down at you smugly. "You know, she-"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Mina's loud voice at the end of the hall made you both drive around to her.

The blonde immediately let go of your wrist and pointed with outstretched fingers at your trembling form.

"This is the woman Mister Gallant was talking about", she said and looked at you disparagingly.

"You see? It's not haunted here", Mina hissed as she approached you both. "As tightly as you have gripped her wrist, she can't be a ghost."

"I've never seen her here before, how is that possible?" Asked the annoying woman and you winced again when her shrill voice boomed in your ears.

"Maybe because your selfish ass is too busy with itself?", Mina funodded angrily at the blonde, who thought with open mouth what she should answer, but Mina got ahead of her.

"I think you should go to bed now, before you say anything you might regret later", Mina kept her voice lowered while she spoke and sounded dangerous at the same time.

The woman next to you looked at you and then at Mina one more time before turning and reluctantly went down the hall.

"Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt", Mina said to you while she watched the blonde disappear into one of the rooms and you knew that she meant the woman's name.

"What are you doing here, princess?", asked your girlfriend and grabbed the hand that this woman, Coco, had just grabbed, to gently stroke the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I wanted to get some water.. you know, for the pills", you mumbled.

"And then this woman came."

"Go back to our room, it's cold," Mina cooed and gently squeezed your hand.

"I'll get you water."

"Thanks .." you said curtly and let go of her hand before turning around to go back to your room.

When Mina came to your room less than five minutes later, you were already buried in bed under your blanket again and only your head was sticking out.

"I've got your water", she muttered and walked across the room to put the glass on your bedside table. You mumbled a little "thank you", reached for the glass to wash down the pills.

As you drank, your eyes were glued on Mina, who crossed the room to lock your door and you could see her grimace with every step she took.

"You are in pain", you noticed shortly after you put your glass back on the table.

"Honey?" You kept trying as she ignored you.

"I'm fine," she growled without looking at you.

"Stop lying to me."

Again she didn't answer and just sat on the edge of her bed.

Worried you stared holes in her back while you chewed on your cracked lower lip. She always did that .. Whenever she felt bad and you noticed, she ignored you.

"Okay, come here", you sighed and climbed over the bed to sit cross-legged behind her.

"What is this supposed to be, Princess?"

Mina sounded confused when she felt you carefully pull the zipper of her dress down.

"I take care of you", you muttered and also pulled the zipper of her white lace blouse down to expose her back.

"Y / N, you really don't have to. I don't-"

"Shut up, Mina!", you growled and leaned over to take the lotion off her bedside table. You opened the jar to spread the lotion on your fingers.

"You let me know if I hurt you, right?" You whispered and when she nodded in agreement you carefully began to spread the ointment on her back.

The next minute was filled with a pleasant silence as you tried not to hurt your girlfriend and tried to be as gentle as possible. You usually did this for her every night, but for the past few weeks it had been canceled due to your health and it was obvious that she couldn't take care of it herself.

"How was your day, princess?", Mina finally asked quietly and you took a moment to think about her question.

"Better than yesterday", you said curtly while your fingers were still wandering over her serpentine spine.

"You know, everytime I close my eyes, I see faces of my friends and relatives and I wonder if this will ever end."

Mina hummed in agreement before speaking.

"I haven't had a lot of people I liked, but I can imagine how awful you feel. It may not be a comfort, but I think you will eventually get used to it."

"I don't know ,how I feel right now to be honest", you mumbled.

"Inside of me everything is so empty. I haven't shed a single tear in weeks, if you understand what I mean."

Mina nodded slowly and was about to say something when suddenly you wrapped your arms around her from behind and carefully leaned your forehead against her back.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Mina", you whispered against her skin. "And even if I'm not really showing it at the moment, I'm so grateful for everything you do for me and I love you so much."

"Oh Princess ..", Mina cooed gently as she turned around in your arms to press her lips against yours.

"I know that you love me and I love you too. And you survived another day and that's the only thing that matters at the moment."

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

A few days went by and you were still a total mess.

One day you walked around the room and could tidy up something while other days you could just lie in bed and stare holes in the wall. Mina was still very worried about you and really wanted you to be fine. But she also understood that this was probably going to be difficult for you, as there was nothing to hold on to your hope.

It was already afternoon when she was on her way to your room to bring you something, that she hoped would help. And while one hand was protecting herself on her stick, she was holding the clear plastic jar in the other, that she wanted to show you.

"Hey little sunshine", she called when she came into your room to find you wrapped in her blanket. She frowned.

"Why are you lying under my blanket?"

"I missed you and the blanket smells like you", you grumbled as you pulled the blanket down to reveal your face. Your eyes wandered to the plastic can in Mina's hand.

"What's that?" You asked confused

Mina smiled as she walked over to you to sit next to you on the bed.

"This is for you", she muttered and you sat up to take the can, she held out to you in your hands.

Mina looked at you expectantly and watched with satisfaction as your eyes lit up when you recognized the contents of the box.

"Oh my god, Mina", you breathed and began to smile while your eyes stared fascinated at the red butterfly, that was fluttering around in the box.

"She came into the outpost two days ago and I had her checked for diseases", Mina explained as she brushed a few of your hair off your face.

"She is beautiful", you whispered and when Mina saw tears glistening in your eyes, she knew that it was the right decision to give you the butterfly.

"She is", she mumbled contentedly before reaching out to tap the wall of the can with her index finger.

"And do you see the little pearls, that lie in the corner on the sheet? Those are eggs, from which caterpillars will hatch at some point-"

"And then they turn into more butterflies", you finished and she nodded.

"Mina, that's great, if we do everything right, we will not only be able to save our species, theirs too", you said and looked at Mina with sparkling eyes.

"You absolutely have to show the others .."

"Oh no", Mina replied.

"The others would find it more disgusting than fascinating, so you should take care of them."

"I ugh- well, thank you", you smiled brightly at her and Mina was glad to finally see you smile again. She leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead before she put her arm around you and you could rest your head on her shoulder. And while she was watching the little butterfly like you, the smell of her lavender perfume suddenly rose to her nose and she frowned.

"Do you wear my perfume, princess?", She asked confused and of course couldn't see how you blushed.

"As I said, I missed you", you muttered.

"Please don't be mad at me, i know its weird."

"No! I think its cute", Mina said quickly uhd pressed another kiss on your hair.

"And i'm damn proud of you, because you survived another day."

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #american horror story

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genshin-latte · 4 years

Note

Can I request a scenario for jean x fem reader?

Wherein jean was jealous how the reader and lisa interacting with other considering that jean and reader are a couple. And the reader reassured jean that her eyes are only for her

Oh God cchhheesseee;;;;; This is the first time I’ve written Jean I hope it’s alright... orr you can slap me and throw me into a hole sldkjfjr this is so cheesssyy heelp

Only for You

Pairing : Jean x f!reader

Word count : 911 words

“I’ll see you later, dear.” Lisa gave you a sweet smile before exiting Jean’s office. The door clicked shut leaving you and your girlfriend alone in the room. “I suppose you have another library date with Lisa?” Jean’s words were soft in tone but you could tell she wasn’t exactly happy. “Hey, I’m only returning the books.” You took her hand in reassurance, “I’ll meet you tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She sighed, you planted a kiss on her head “love you.” You whispered before slowly letting go of her hand, almost in a dramatic manner. She could only smile seeing your antics, giving you a small wave “Love you too.” “I’ll see you.” You peeked through the entrance’s gap, waving one last time before closing the door. “Don’t overwork!” She let out a small laugh hearing your voice from the other side of the walls.

Jean’s frown returned once you left. You had been spending an awful lot of time with Lisa as of late. She knows that she should be happy her two closest were bonding. But she can’t help but feel the subtle pangs of jealousy whenever you’re together with the librarian. It’s not that she doesn’t trust you —or Lisa in that matter. It’s just.. maybe she was growing insecure. Moreover Lisa’s flirty nature was no less than charming. Jean would see you giggle every time the mage were to play with your hair, and the look of admiration in your eyes whenever she’s around. Perhaps you’d prefer someone like that?

The blonde groaned at her thoughts, she wasn’t supposed to be daydreaming at a time like this. Shaking her head she returned her focus to the stack of papers in front of her. She needs to get this done, it’s her duty as a knight after all and she can see you after. That itself is rewarding. Though no matter how much she wanted to concentrate, her thoughts would always wander to you.

——

“Oh hi, cutie.” Lisa greeted you as you stepped into the library. “Evening, Lisa. I’m here to return the books. As promised.” Placing the stack of books on her desk, you sighed. “My, such a good girl now, aren’t you?” She let out a small laugh, whilst unstacking the books checking them one by one. “How’s Jean?” Her sudden question surprised you. “... she’s been rather off lately” You sighed again, remembering your earlier encounter, she didn’t look like she was in a good mood.

“Why don’t you let her loosen up then, take her out for some fun.” Though her tone was slightly mischievous you could tell her suggestion came from a good place. ”In fact I think she might already be waiting.” She turned her head, gesturing towards the door. You spun around, your eyes met with the cools hues that you’ve come to love so much. “Oh.” Jean’s expression fell, “I apologize.. I did not mean to interrupt. I’ll come back later.” She averted her gaze before turning around and left. “Jean, hey.” Your feet immediately chased after her.

“Oh, the lovebirds.” Lisa could only watch in amusement as her two friends left.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You finally caught up to her. She stopped on a seemingly empty hallway, resting her back against the side of the wall. She fell silent, eyes fixed on the ground, hesitating to answer your question. “Sorry, my feelings seems to have gotten to me.” She sighed in defeat, still trying to brush off her jealousy. “Talk to me?” You placed a hand on her cheek. She put a hand over yours, pausing for a little while “I suppose I was a little upset seeing you spend so much time with her.” She uttered, a grim look on her face. She was always so dignified and strong, it was an expression you rarely see.

‘Her...? Lisa?’ You had thought that was the case. “Jean.. I’m sorry.” Hearing your apology, she finally returned your gaze, “I just.. I thought I’d give you space to rest since you’re always overworked.” You hadn’t meant to make her feel neglected. “It’s alright, I’m just..” she trailed off. “Hey, look at me.” Your words were a soft whisper, face only inches apart from hers, you could see the melancholy behind her cool eyes. “You know what I see?” You looked straight at her, making sure to get your next message clear, “I see a strong and incredible leader. I see the most beautiful and endearing woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I see... you, the only person I’ll spend the rest of my life with.”

She was.. struck. She could only stare at you, a light tint of blush on her features, nervously biting her lip. You were in between wanting to kiss her or bury yourself on the ground because that came out way, way cheesier than you expected. “I.. thank you..” she muttered. Oh, now you really wanted to kiss her and you did. Placing your other hand on her face, you captured her lips in a sweet kiss. She sighs in relief resting her forehead against yours. “I only have eyes for you.” You said again, reassuring her. “Okay, okay.” A small laugh left her lips, she was sure she was going to explode out of embarrassment if she hears another one of your compliments. Her next words was but a mere whisper, but it contained the deep rooted feelings she has,

“You too, are my only beloved, (y/n).”

#genshin impact #genshin impact jean #genshin jean #genshin jean x reader #genshin impact jean x reader #jean gunnhildr #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fanfiction #cup of latte

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fundy-simp · 4 years

Text

Eret/GN!Reader - Tired Recaps [1069 words]

Fluff! Just you comforting her and helping her recharge after a longish lore stream

Since Eret uses any pronouns I decided I was going to use she/her for this fic! If that bothers you feel free to scroll past :) Also I wrote this really late last night so please excuse any small mistakes

You laid sprawled out in you and Eret's shared bed, you had been cooped up in the bedroom almost all day. Mostly because you guys were in a new house and Eret was streaming, you really didn't want to somehow manage to get turned around and walk in mid stream, so you laid there.

After a bit of really just laying there you sat up and moved so your back rested on the head board. Lazily you dug your switch out from under the covers and flipped on your favorite game for probably the third time that hour. Unlike the last two times you did manage to get into the game a bit, but it didn't last long because before you knew it Eret was flopping down into your lap like some oversized dog.

"Oh, hey sweetheart!" you said happily, pausing your game and setting it to the side. She let out a half hum in response, "Are you okay?" you asked quietly, you really hoped she didn't have a bad stream today, it always broke your heart to see it happen.

Eret just nodded before sitting up and readjusting so that instead of laying across your legs she was laying on top of you, head resting comfortably on your stomach. "I'm fine, love. Just a long day, you know how it is." she said as she nuzzled into you, you always forget how much you love her voice till you hear it again.

You let out a quiet hum and idly start playing with her hair, carefully running your hands through the messy curls. "Did you have a good stream then? Heard there was a lot of plot happening on the dream smp today..." you asked, you always loved hearing about her streams, especially the lore ones thanks to how invested in her own character she was.

Laughing lightly, Eret nodded, "A lot is somehow an understatement for how much plot happened today."

You couldn't help but chuckle with her, "Oh really? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious." you replied, hoping she's up to ramble.

"Are you sure? It's seriously a lot." she asked one more time.

A soft smile fell on your lips as you replied, "Of course, I know how much you love talking about it. Not to mention I love to listen!"

"You asked for it," she said as she shimmied out of your grasp, moving so that now the back of her head rested on your chest. "Well, as you know, today was the big day. The day L'manburg was doomed to fall, once and for all." she started, her hands moved as she talked, definitely not as much as you but it was still a nice detail you had noticed.

"Everything was riding on today and my character was exhausted. She felt as if she'd done everything wrong, every move just got her stuck under Dream's thumb again and seemed to pull her away from redemption." she continued, you felt a faint pang in your heart at the mention of her character's redemption. You were, both admittedly and obviously, an Eret apologist. You felt like she had done everything right, even understanding that it's okay for it to not be enough to fix what had been done, but she was still pushed aside. You'd be lying if that didn't make you feel sad.

"Eret had run into Niki and Fundy before the big stream, the three of them making a pact to "make everyone learn a lesson" since they had been tossed aside so much. Honestly, it's what the characters needed, an extra bit to properly solidify their pain and need for closure. Really need to tell Niki thanks for the great idea." she nodded to herself, it was so... Cozy to listen to her ramble while you held her. Even in a new house that lacked signs of being lived in, it felt like home, a home that you plan to never lose.

By now you had accidently tuned out, silently you grabbed one of her hands and placed a soft kiss on it. You weren't expecting her to stop talking, but the surprised face with just enough blush to be noticeable was definitely a welcome surprise. "Wh- Hey! I was mid sentence!" she jokingly pouted as she pulled her hand out from yours and cupped your face.

"And?" you asked, snickering, "You gonna come up here and do something about it?" you teased her, which you didn't do often but was always a lot of fun.

"This is one of the very few times you can actually use that on me, are you kidding me!" she exclaimed, you just shrug in response, "You really gonna play like that?" she asked, pulling her hands down from your face, you nodded. She looked at you for a good few seconds, squinting at you with a scrunched face as she got up and turned back towards you.

A very fast "Okay then." was all the warning you got before she moved to straddle you and grabbed your face, planting kisses everywhere she could get her lips.

Giggles burst through your chest with a flood of warmth, halfheartedly you tried to push her off. "Stop it!! I- oh my God-" you said through laughter, you two may be alone but being showered in so much affection made you embarrassed.

Eret stopped for a second, looking down at your face, your’s full of breathless laughter and hers full of the most heartfelt love you'd ever seen. She sat and stared for a second before talking again, "... Fine, but for a price." she said finally. You instinctively held you breath and nodded. "I want a kiss."

You couldn't stop the chuckle that left your lips before the quiet, "Of course!" as you pulled her down. One hand rested comfortably on her cheek while the other arm was wrapped around her neck. Both of her hands cupped your face still as you two kissed, it was a soft kiss, a heartfelt one that felt like a soft reminder of your love. And when you two pulled away, both almost out of breath, you didn't even have to think of the words "I love you." before they left your mouth.

Then there wasn't a moment of hesitation before Eret replied, the biggest, most love filled grin on her face as she said, "I love you, too."

#dream smp x reader #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #eret x reader #fluff

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Two chapters over the weekend because I was ✨ inspired ✨ and my neighbors can't stop fucking (noisily!) and I'm,,, envious.

Strange adventures in Hell. There are descriptions of desperation and doom, lots of magic and - hear me out - forced/reluctant hand holding 😌 Oh my God, they held hands!!!

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" Strange was seething, his enormous figure and broader height towered over me, the blood-red of his cape vibrating, the only spleck of colour in the grey and dusty dark world.

"I had no choice in the matter," I replied as calmly as I managed, gritting my teeth, memories of our past stand-off fresh in my mind. We could have bickered until the end, until one of the beasts flying overhead spotted us and decorated the bleary grounds of this forsaken planet with the crimsons of our life blood. "I think it's best if we get to safety first, argue later. I have no desire to become somebody's lunch."

That much was true: I had taken a good look at our surroundings as soon as I recovered from the vacuum-like sensation of being pulled into a magical gateway; the visibility was terrible, the planet's natural light very scarce. Several suns were hardly visible in the sky, their rays barely penetrating the mists and the ashes freely floating in the air.

There was oxygen even if breathing in a full lungful seemed impossible; I tried not to think about the contents of the air, or the possibility of radiation poisoning, as the multiple amulets and charms seared into my skin where they rested under my clothes. I had four bottles of water, some bandages and salves and a sacrifice for a single ritual to my name and absolutely no conviction that Mother Earth would be able to hear the call of an earthling gone so astray.

But it was hope, so I held on.

"Fine," Stephen sighed, suddenly looking tired and weary, glancing around with furrowed brows. "Let's see if I can open a portal," his hands did that complicated set of gestures that I'd grown to associate with a golden circle and sparks on the ground. The thing flickered, once, twice, before disappearing, as if the Sorcerer's magic had run out of batteries. "Yeah, I thought so," he whispered to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"The bad news first, please," I interpreted his hesitation with a realistic outlook on our predicament.

"I can't open a portal just anywhere on this planet. We need to find a... Rift, of sorts," the man was anxiously looking around. "And those things, they'll smell us... Right about now," his eyes shot up at a winged, rapidly approaching shadow. "No good news, I'm afraid."

I allowed myself a small sigh of disappointment, keeping a tight leash on the panic slowly creeping up my body. The feeling of determination, the power of Gaia within me was still present, laying in a cozy dormant ball slightly south of my solar plexus. "Give me your hand, please," I reached out to Stephen only for him to promptly recoil.

"You should've thought about the consequences of your actions, I'm not going to hold your hand because you're scared shitless," his words were sharp but they lacked the venom. He wouldn't, or couldn't, meet my eyes.

"I know you have scarred hands. I'm a healer and you don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed I, I've seen worse," I stated in my best 'mutant nurse' voice as Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Those things can't sense me. And I know they won't be able to sense you too if we have skin-to-skin contact. So unless you want me to get under your... Robes," I gestured to the layers upon layers of clothing he had wrapped himself in. I considered the possibility of his whole body being covered in scars, too, and couldn't help the pang of sympathy. "Take one glove off and give me your damn hand before this trip to Jurassic Park goes full pterodactyl massacre!"

I saw the thing in the sky open it's mouth - but no sound came out, the clouds reducing it's outline to a vaguely triangular shadow. There was something very unusual about this planet's atmosphere.

With a couple of jerky movements, Stephen slid off the glove from his left hand, looking away as his large, dry, warm palm encompassed mine in a gentle, trembling grip. It made no sense to interlace our fingers, so I help onto him like a child holds onto their parent; the size difference of our hands and his imposing aura surely made me feel like one.

We stood a foot apart, watching the shadow in the sky begin to circle the place we stood in, it's gaping maw opening again and again, before it zigzagged across the sky with a strong dash of confusion, it's graceful glide becoming a series of rapid turns and twists. With a final inaudible shriek, it flew off into the dusty greys of the horizon, becoming a dark spot far away in mere seconds.

The silence was so loud in this world. Like the eerie stillness of my, undoubtedly haunted, apartment, I was eager to dissipate it with something beyond our combined heavy breathing. "Please don't tell Tony," I timidly gave our touching hands a sway. "He'll never leave it alone."

A chuffing noise coming from above had me whip my head up to see Stephen holding in a puff of nervous laughter; his shoulders dropped slightly as he eyed me in turn. "What makes you think I won't tease you about it?"

"You wouldn't dare," I took mock offense, rising my leaking nose to the skies.

The grumble and the eyeroll I expected, the smirk that faded into a ghost of a smile I did not. "We should go. Usually there is a rift within a few miles of every location everywhere," he tried to keep the content expression as he spoke but the storm in his eyes betrayed his concern. They were so blue, I felt like I was drowning.

I let myself to be tugged in a direction - everything seemed exactly the same, a never-ending ashen wasteland with the occasional dark grey rock that crumbled to dust as soon as the heel of my shoe touched it. My light blue sweater quickly became the colour of rotten wood, a sickly, dull monotone between brown and gray.

The complete lack of any kind of natural noise brought out the desolation of this wretched place; if we gripped each other's hands tighter, neither of us chose to acknowledge it. It was too easy to get lost in your own mind when the surroundings were dead set on rebuking anything that was in any shape or form alive.

I caught myself thinking that this must be what people think Hell should look like.

Strange walked briskly for the most part, periodically clearing his throat and eyeing me when I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It could have been an hour, or maybe two, of aimless wandering and rapidly imploding portals accompanied by Stephen's increasingly overcast face before I made the man stop and offered him a water bottle, which he insisted we split between us two.

It didn't take me a tarot reading to figure out our chances were grim. Needless, I gave him the same look I give to injured, scared mutant children when they come to the bodega for the first time; a look of quiet temperance.

And then we walked, and walked again, as Stephen grew moodier and moodier, marching on with the force of a seasoned soldier, only taking breaks when I forced him to stand still and breathe with me. As cautious and closed-off as he was, I pressed onto the fact of me being a healer of sorts, and he relented if briefly, always reluctant, always seasoned by a great dose of bewilderment.

"Do you feel that?" Stephen's stride halted, both feet firmly planted on the ground.

The ground had tremors had coming from deep within, small shocks that could have been easily missed if not for the complete lack of sound on this world. My nod was mute, I didn't trust my voice not to break when I clearly knew there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, endless fields of nothing all around us.

"Hold onto me," promptly, I was grabbed and pushed into his chest, his long arms easily picking me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Hold tight, I might need my hands," my face grew hot as I wound my arms around Stephen's neck, clinging to him like a monkey, a palm resting on the soft fine hairs if his nape. It felt too intimate somehow, in the wake of imminent danger.

The Cape that previously swayed behind him in rhythm with his steps billowed, the red fabric of it tough as it levitated us a few feet above the ground. I felt Stephen tense with each tremor; within moments, the surface shook and stuttered more and more, cracks appearing in between the dust, turning the plains into a marble-patterned patch of darkness.

We rose above it, high enough that I could see the veins resulting from the quake stretch far out into the wasteland, jagged, abrupt lines of even more concentrated darkness. And as quickly as the quake started, it was over, leaving little evidence as the ground settled.

Stephen floated us to a larger patch of the ground, criss-crossed with thinner, less prominent lines, poking the ground with his foot before allowing it to fully bear our weight. He was shaken, there was no doubt. "That was... Something," he stated lowly.

"Mhm," I hummed, fighting the urge to frantically look around, forcing my hand from clutching at his palm like a lifeline. I had decided on a plan while I was busy playing baby koala - not that there were many other options except to wander these god forsaken bare badlands until our painful demise. "Listen, Strange, I'm aware you don't hold my people in particularly high regard but you're going to have to trust me on this," my words came out derisive as I placed his palm on the back of my neck and kneeled, forcing him to do the same behind me.

The contents of my bag greeted me grimly with out last bottle of water and the couple knick-knacks that gathered the black dust on them. I hastily poured the water into a bowl, dipping my fingers in it, and added the crushed bones to the mixture.

The time that was required to make a paste-like mixture, I used to address a bewildered Stephen. "This is a last resort. I don't know if it will work, we're not on Earth," I briefly breathed my distress. "I don't even know how far we are from home. But I refuse to die here, in this grotesque Hell, without putting up a fight and Gaia has always looked out for her flock. I might get very, very sick if this is successful."

The warning had him attempt to object before he cast a long look around us, shoulders sagging, as motioned for me to continue, those piercing blue eyes boring into my face. "Tell me what do I need to do," his voice quietly attempted to soothe my very obvious fear.

I was terrified, both of dying, nameless, faceles in this world full of Nothing; the prospect of withering away after depleting all my resources was, perhaps, equally unappealing, but dying on my home planet sounded better than dying here. "Have faith," I replied curtly, beginning to chant softly under my breath as soon as Stephen's expression hardened.

My eyelids grew heavy, limbs filling with lead and molten lava as I summoned the forces of Mother itself; my body was aching, exhausted by answering her call as it was. The warm ball in my chest that previously comforted me grew, spreading its smelten power through every vein, every vessel. No part of my body was left cold. A sense of purpose filled me, pushing me forward, driving me to move, to run, to leap.

"This way," even to my own ears, my voice sounded pained. It felt as if I was walking through swamp waters, full of clay and debris, each step taking my barely coherent form through an individual bog full of pins and needles. The force of Mother Nature burned inside of me, enraged at the state of her surroundings.

Stephen spoke to me but all I could hear was mumbling, thousands of voices, low and shrill, unintelligible to the human mind. I could feel the sorcerer's pain; the itch and burn in his throat, the constant, dull throb in his scarred, broken hands. His hand in mine only intensified the situation and I fought with his injuries like I fought with the black dots in my eyes, I forced down the unpleasant sensations, setting fire to them, letting the reigns of control on the raging inferno within me slip just the smallest, tiniest bit.

The steps of his long feet stuttered as I felt the discomfort lessen yet I simply towed him along. Time leaked through the cracks in my eyes, which were mostly unseeing anyways. The useless things grew blind at some point, not that I noticed it on the greys and blacks of the surrounding scenery. It was harder to walk, my breathing grew laboured with the extertion as we finally reached the place that felt right.

"Here," I rasped, voice so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breeze. I craved to feel it; the soft puffs of wind, the sound of running water. I had called for Earth and she demanded its child back.

The portal appeared without a stutter even though Stephen's hands shook; I saw the uneven channels, the energies traveling through them at an uneven pace. As soon as I pushed through the wormhole, coming to my senses in an unfamiliar, light room, I fell to my knees.

Stephen's pained moaning told me he was probably experiencing the same stinging, burning sensation on his skin; my eyes, they were the worst - my eyeballs felt like they were melting, leaking out of my sockets into thick, gelatinous tears streaming down my face. I blindly groped for the sorcerer's hand, directing the forces within me to soothe his hurts much like I had done in the wastelands.

"Strange?!" A masculine, shocked voice exclaimed before footsteps crashed into my sensitive ears with the force of an elephant herd. "Oh my God, they're here! Tony, come!"

"Stop fucking screaming," Stephen gasped out as I felt him curl into himself.

"Friday, scan them," I recognised Tony's voice, the tiredness and desperation standing out in it more than it did in the rest of the whispers in the room.

"They appear to be experiencing a sensory overload. I would recommend to engage Peter's Cooldown mode," the mechanical voice replied, barely audible. The noise still grated on my ears after spending... How long were we gone?

"Do it, Fri," Tony's soft footsteps reached us; I smelled the spices of his cologne next to my and Stephen's prone forms. "You gave us a scare there," the tone was admonishing but gentle.

"We were scared shitless ourselves," I attempted to speak, only now noticing how grating my voice sounded. "We were in Hell," I mumbled to myself, slowly removing my hand from Stephen.

"That," he coughed up the word, breathing through his nose before speaking again, his voice sounding much better than mine. "That place was as close as possible to biblical pits I have ever seen," there was shuffling and gentle murmurs as the two men ensured each other of their presence and well-being.

The burning sensations receded back to my core, the embers of the fires dying out, leaving me feeling like deflated beach ball, all shell and no filling. With a groan, I rolled over onto my back right in the middle of the pristine carpet on the floor, forcing my eyes open and breathing through the pain until I could somewhat see the champagne coloured ceiling without black dots obstructing my vision.

Shuffling noises reached my ears as a familiar round face with light red hair came into my line of sight, Wanda's gentle features concerned. "Star, do you need to go to medical?" She eyed me almost suspiciously but the question was earnest.

The idea of a doctor fixing a magical burnout was bizarre to me, as if it ever was that easy; I chortled sardonically. "No, Wanda, there's nothing wrong with me that a doctor would be able to fix," I replied honestly. "I should call Odette."

"I've called, she said to notify her when you return," Sam's voice was gentle as he approached. I could feel him glaring daggers at a rapidly reddening Wanda. "She was the one who said you'll definitely come back," he offered me his hand.

I had to choke down a moan of relief as I grabbed it. The warmth, the life of another human being, the precious gift of a beating pulse under my fingertips was divine. "You should listen to her. She knows her stuff." It was easy, talking to Sam as if he was an old friend. He had one of the most pleasant auras I've seen on a human being.

"I'm a doctor," Stephen suddenly perched up, sounding almost bashful. "And I can aid the healing process," he stated over Tony's disgruntled mumbling. "If you can explain to me how the hell you managed to hold a... an entire sun's worth of energy!" The more he spoke the more bewildered he became, tone growing in pitch, ending the sentence with an exclamation.

"I don't know," I replied with a sigh. The whole indignation in this man, I was not prepared to face. "When I took this up," I gestured vaguely to the burned, bent metal adornments I began to remove off my body. "I thought I was going to get an increase in tips and a better outlook on life. Help my friend with her asthma as much so she wouldn't have to use her inhaler every time she gets suprised or scared," my jewelry hit the floor with a dull clank, piling up into bent silver I wouldn't even be able to cleanse and repurpose.

Sam whistled lowly, poking at a necklace that had twisted on itself, a grotesque spiral of dull ashen grey.

"I certainly didn't think that a bleeding mutant accepting his fate as cannon fodder will call for the Earth itself," my tone grew vicious. Exhaustion was nesting in my bones. "And that Mother Nature would take over my body, pour lava into my veins and bleed recklessness into my thoughts. But here I am, freshly out of Hell and alive and kicking."

A stunned silence was interrupted by Tony's frantic whispering. "You are not leaving my penthouse for the foreseeable future," as the weight of the incident set on him. The knuckles of his hand clutching Stephen's dirty tunic turned white.

"I am," Stephen eyed me with a strange look in his eye, as if he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes then turned to Tony, who'd began rambling, arguing with Stephen. The sorcerer stopped the word vomit with a grim confession. "I'd be dead if not for Starlight. I'd be meat and bone, splattered across a barren, radioactive land in the deepest, darkest pits of the universe."

I felt my face droop in slow-motion. My throat flexed, swallowing a thick lump of filthy mucus, I coughed up, "Ra-radioctive?" As soon as I could work my voice without it squeaking.

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#practical alchemy #bun writes #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #im zoomin with a bag full of creepy

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