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morning-star-joy · 1 year

Text

and I'll never see you again if I can help it

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 6

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: You and Joel fall into a temporary truce after your patrol. At Tommy's urging, you go out for drinks with the two brothers. When you and Joel find yourselves alone after, the tension between you continues to rise until it snaps again.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) Mutual Masturbation, Unprotected p in v sex, Drunk Sex, Dirty Talk, Brief Mention of Masturbation (f), References to Previous Smut, Language, Alcohol Use, the sexist asshole from Chapter 3 makes a reappearance & tries to sl*t shame Reader but gets put in his place by both Reader and Joel, Brief Bar Fight, Mild Description of a Shallow Cut/Injury Treatment

A/N: Translation: Qué mala eres = You're so bad (ty to my wife @cynibuns for helping with the translation ily here's your writing cred)! Also, Chapter 14 will be up on ao3 tomorrow! Most likely evening-ish PST when I get home from being out of town. Hope you’re all having a lovely weekend!

Wordcount: 10.4k

chapter 1 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || masterlist

ao3 link

The severity of the tension between you and Joel lightened, if only slightly.

You wouldn’t say he treated you warmly now, but the harshness of the chill he regarded you with did lessen. Joel would greet you when he saw you now, either with a slight nod or your name spoken as an acknowledgement. You returned the niceties with your own, and even though they were simple, they lessened a burden you hadn’t realized you had felt since the man returned to town.

Tommy was happy about this perceived change in your relationship with his brother, to say the least. If you and Joel found yourself in the rare circumstance that you were seated next to each other for a meal and not biting each other’s heads off, it felt like Tommy would appear out of nowhere to slap you both on the back in barely contained glee.

“We gotta go out for drinks tonight,” he would say with a grin, to which Joel shook his head to himself and you laughed disbelievingly.

“Maybe when the kid is old enough to come with us,” you would remark cheekily, referring to the latest addition to the Miller family, knowing from how you remained Joel’s patrol partner that the bundle of joy still needed both parents around to help.

Those patrols with Joel weren’t as awkward as they were before, either. There wasn’t much more talking between you, but you fell into step with each other easier, taking out both Infected and the occasional bandits with less difficulty.

While it wasn’t the same as your familiar contest with Tommy, your traded banter with Eugene or your mentorship with Jesse, you found yourself actually coming to appreciate the steadfastness of Joel’s presence when he rode and fought beside you. When he wasn’t treating you with such extreme disdain, you could almost understand why Tommy was so fond of his brother.

Almost.

Joel still irritated you. He was just as gruff and rude as ever, even if he wasn’t as antagonistic towards you as before. If you would try and crack a joke, he would just stare at you until either you awkwardly coughed, or he just shook his head and looked away. If you would try and ask him questions, he would give you short, one-word answers that got you nowhere.

He still annoyed you. Especially when his hand would brush against yours as he handed you some rations. Or when he stood so close you could smell the earthy, heady scent that made your head spin. Or when you would feel him watching your ass as he boosted you up to an area you couldn’t reach, but looked away quickly whenever you glanced back at him to try and catch him in the act.

Joel was still a bastard, because he wouldn’t say anything about those moments. But later you would replay them in your mind, helpless to the memory it brought to the forefront of your mind, unable to suppress it any longer.

It was embarrassing, how often you had slipped your hand between your legs as you thought of Joel at night. In the back of your mind, you could almost remember the feeling of his fingers playing with you instead. You would try to relive how it had felt for those fingers to be rubbing your clit and thrusting in and out of you. You would visualize being bent over your own kitchen counter as he fucked you against it, moaning into your pillow as you made yourself cum again and again just from the memory of his touch.

That memory almost felt like a hallucination, the fact that you had actually had sex with the grizzled, stoic survivor seeming more like a fever dream than reality. At times you were certain you really had just dreamt it. But then you would remember the morning Joel had passed by you as you sat on your porch, drinking coffee from an engraved mug, and how fast he had looked away as his steps quickened past your picket fence.

Oh, so he does remember, you had realized as you hid a smirk behind another sip of your coffee, glad you had been sitting outside that morning to catch his reaction to you drinking from that mug.

It was infuriating, because that heat that simmered between the two of you was still there, even as you both tried your best to ignore it in the light of day. What you did with yourself at night with the memory of him, however, was your secret alone.

And that was fine. You were finally settling back into the calm that Jackson offered. Those hiccups Joel had thrown into your practiced routine were smoothing over with the strange, unspoken truce between the two of you.

But then that was also ruined, the night Tommy actually did manage to take you both out for those drinks.

Your discomfort at the situation was matched only by Joel’s as Tommy shoved whiskey filled glasses into his hand and then yours. You shot a glance at Joel from the corner of your eye, watching as the man lifted a shoulder in a resigned shrug before tossing back the shot, followed by Tommy and then you.

Tommy’s joy as he ordered another round was almost infectious, a smile tugging at your lips as you glanced over The Tipsy Bison to see it busier than it was most nights. Either the warmer weather was brightening everyone’s spirits, or they all just had the same spontaneous burst of energy that Tommy had when he showed up on your doorstep to drag you out with him. Joel had been standing behind him, looking more uncomfortable than you had ever seen him as he looked anywhere but at you while you stood in your doorway.

The second sign that your fever dream of him was real, and that he remembered it just as much as you did.

“So,” Tommy sighed after knocking back another shot, placing his cup down and grabbing the bottle of whiskey the bartender had left to make refills easier for the three of you. After refilling his glass, Tommy turned back to you and Joel with an easy grin. “I’ve heard good things about your patrols.”

Neither you nor Joel said anything as Tommy sipped from his glass, waiting for you to reply. Which you didn’t.

“Guess you don’t hate each other as much as you thought,” he teased, waiting to see if he could get a reaction out of either of you.

You merely shrugged, and Joel took another sip of his whiskey.

Tommy sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the bottle to refill your glass once you finished it off.

“Well you're both chatterboxes, aren’t you?” he muttered, shooting you both a bemused look, though it held a fondness to it. “Can’t imagine all the riveting conversations you must have on those patrols.”

You glanced at Joel as you sipped at your refilled drink. Neither of you had spoken about the heated argument and ugly words you had thrown at each other during your patrol to the ski lodge, or the panic attack that he had witnessed you having.

The latter you figured he avoided mentioning out of some kind of understanding. You remembered seeing him stumble out of the bar last winter, how he had leaned against the frozen pillar for support. How you had approached him to put a hand on his shoulder, just as he had done to you, even as you both flinched away from being touched during your respective moments of anxiety.

But the argument, you weren’t sure why Joel never brought up again. He had made his opinion of you and your history with the Fireflies, his disdain for the tattoo on your skin, quite clear. Whenever you felt confused on how he had seemed to just let it go, you remembered that look he had given you when the storm had begun to clear outside; the realization you weren’t privy to passing over his face before he offered an olive branch in reaching out his hand to help you up, an unspoken peace offering you had accepted. You didn't know what had spurred him on to extend that unspoken understanding that had settled the disdain-fueled friction between you, but you figured maybe it was also the reason why he never brought up the argument again.

Your name being spoken pulled you out of your internal monologue, and you turned your head to see Tommy looking at you, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Hm?” you hummed, about to take a sip from your drink before you realized it was empty.

Tommy reached out for the bottle again, whiskey pouring into your glass as his brow smoothed out and he smiled cheekily at you. A glint of mischief was in his eye, a flush from alcohol tinting his cheeks.

Oh, this was either going to be very good, or you weren’t going to like this at all.

“When are you finally gonna let me set you up with someone?”

You coughed, holding a fist up to cover your mouth as you nearly choked on your whiskey.

“Sorry?” you spluttered, baffled at the sudden topic change as Tommy’s smirk widened, and you felt a heavy gaze settle on you from your other side.

“Come on,” Tommy drawled, his voice playfully boisterous as he leaned back against the bar. “Having somebody is great! And I haven’t seen you with a beau since the moment I met you.”

A laugh escaped you, turning into a fit of disbelieving cackling spurred on from the whiskey as you shook your head at your friend.

“If Dina hasn’t gotten anywhere in that hopeless endeavor, neither are you,” you teased, your laughter doubling at the playful roll of his eyes.

“Qué mala eres." The Spanish rolled off his tongue in a sigh, the language slip a sign that the alcohol was going to his head, and you sighed as you threw back another shot. “You’re missing out, my friend.”

Your head shook, looking away from Tommy only when the weight of the stare on your back had become so heavy that you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

When you turned back to Joel, though, his eyes had already moved away, scanning the crowd in the bar as he sipped silently at the whiskey glass in his large hand.

You blamed it on the effect of the alcohol as you observed how the lights of the bar seemed to brighten the brown hue of Joel’s eyes, making them appear a lighter color than how dark they usually looked. Despite your better judgment that told you to look away, your gaze followed the line of his nose down to his lips as he drank his whiskey, and you couldn’t help but wonder for a moment what it would feel like to have those lips pressed to your own, the one thing that he had denied you when he had fucked you.

His tongue darted out to lick at the drops of liquor on his lips. Desire pooled between your legs as you looked back up, and you jumped when you saw his gaze was fixed on you.

Oh, fuck, you thought to yourself, that desire intensifying as he arched a brow at you, and you realized that he had caught you looking.

Had caught you wanting.

Your hand tightened on your glass, glaring up at him even as his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk.

But it was there.

And it was satisfied.

That damn, nearly unnoticeable smirk made your cunt throb as you realized that you still wanted him. And judging from the look he fixed you with now, maybe Joel still wanted you too.

You looked away hastily, knocking the rest of your whiskey back right as Tommy spoke up again.

“So, big brother, how’d your date with Esther go?”

Whiskey got stuck in your throat as you choked, coughing as you lowered the glass, and Tommy’s hand began to thud on your back to help you clear your throat.

“You okay?” you heard him ask, and you nodded, clearing your throat of the more intense burn the alcohol had left as it didn’t go down your throat as smoothly as it was supposed to.

“Yeah,” you croaked, shaking your head with another cough as you waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You ignored the looks each brother was giving you as you stared straight ahead, refusing to look at either in protection of your own pride as Joel asked Tommy, “What’d you say?”

The question made you bristle, something in his tone telling you that Joel knew exactly what Tommy had asked, but wanted that line of conversation to continue.

Or maybe the whiskey was just going to your head, you thought as you turned back around to the bar and grabbed the bottle to refill your glass.

“Esther!” Tommy said brightly, and you held your glass a bit too hard. “How’d it go? Did you like her?”

Joel shrugging caught your attention, and you looked back to see he was looking out of the corner of his eye at you, before he looked away and replied to Tommy, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

You turned back to your glass, taking the whole shot before refilling it again.

“She has a great sense of humor,” you heard Joel add, your fingers tapping impatiently on the counter as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“See, I told you!” Tommy’s voice was full of excitement, even as your mood continued to worsen the more information was revealed about Joel’s apparent fucking date. “I knew you’d like her. You’re a good match.”

Another shot was knocked back in one smooth motion before you spun around to face the brothers again.

Joel went on a fucking date.

Joel “I’m not sticking around here”, doesn’t-want-a-relationship fucking Miller went on a fucking date.

The thought made you bristle with anger, even though you knew it shouldn’t. It made you mad because, fuck, going on a date meant that he might be getting his dick wet with other women, when he had already fucked you and was looking at you with that dark, sultry gaze earlier as he licked his lips and fuck.

It took you a moment before you noticed that the attention of both Miller men was on you, and you realized slowly that the expletive had actually left your mouth instead of just staying in your mind, interrupting whatever they had been discussing now.

You looked from Tommy’s confused expression to Joel’s blank one, the slight curl of his lip that he hid behind his whiskey glass telling you all you needed to know as your gaze shot out towards the room.

Over in the corner of the bar, Gustavo was playing his trusty banjo with a few other musicians. A small group of residents, friends and couples, were dancing in an open space next to them.

A smile grew on your lips as you slammed your empty glass back down on the counter, sending Joel and Tommy an easy grin while you walked backwards away from them.

“If you’ll excuse me, boys,” you drawled, giving them an over-dramatic flourish of a bow, one you thought Dina would be proud of, “I’m going to go dance.”

Your smile melted into a smirk, your gaze lingering on Joel for a second too long before turning around and confidently making your way to the area where people were dancing.

The shots were definitely going to your head, but you found it hard to care where the music was louder. It didn’t take long before you were swept up in a dance, spun around in the arms of a man whose name you couldn’t remember. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to let your hair down like this, but the rhythm of the music, the fast pace of the dance, and the alcohol dulling your thoughts made the memories you always tried so hard to forget fade further into the background.

And if the carefree feeling from dancing wasn’t making you laugh, then it was the feeling of a heated stare fixed on your back as you giggled and turned through the steps of the lively dance.

You could feel his eyes on you, and even though you didn't look back towards him as you danced, you knew it was him. That intensity was unmistakable, familiar now in its weight as it focused on you, even as you weren't looking directly at him. It spurred you on, getting closer to your dance partner than was necessary, and relishing in the feeling of that stare sharpening on your steps as you did so.

After a few songs you were starting to feel too hot, too dizzy to continue this charade. Exchanging lighthearted bows with your dance partner, you laughed a bit more before backing away. While you had approached the dancing with an ulterior motive—one that seemed to have been successful, judging by the gaze you could feel on you throughout the dances—you found that you had actually enjoyed yourself, your head clearer and heart more carefree than you had felt in ages as you tried to find where you had left the Miller brothers.

“Whore,” a voice pretended to cough as you passed by a table, and you paused.

You turned slowly, that rare happiness you had felt evaporating as you looked back to find a face you had a hard time placing a name to. He looked a little younger than you, his features weaselly as he held back a snicker, surrounded by a group of a few other stupid looking young men.

“Excuse m—”

“What was that?”

Your own voice was interrupted by another, one lower and more menacing than your own, coming from some place close behind you.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Joel had found you before you could find him. His face was carefully devoid of any telling emotion as he stared past you at the man who had apparently just majorly fucked up by calling you a whore.

You looked back as the man shifted, seeming unsettled by Joel’s presence, and then it clicked. This was that bastard that you had been drinking with last winter, the one who Joel had knocked on his ass in the snow outside this very bar.

“Alright,” you sighed as you pushed a few loose strands of hair out of your face. “Let’s just—”

“You heard me,” the man at the table repeated, trying to sound confident as he pushed himself to his feet, even as his voice was shaking. He glared back at Joel, seemingly spurred by some stupid sense of wounded pride or suicidal tendencies. “I called her what she is: a whore.”

You laughed, louder than you should, devoid now of any carefree feeling from earlier. Surely you were drawing the attention of those drinking nearby, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that right now.

“Right, I’m a whore for drinking and dancing with friends?” you asked, eyes blazing at the audacity of this man as you felt Joel shift and move around you. “Because I refused to sleep with you when you asked so pathetically?”

The man whose name you still couldn’t remember—something that made the situation even more hilarious, even though nobody knew that fact except for you—took a step towards you at that last jab you made, though his path was quickly interrupted as Joel stepped in front of you.

Joel’s hand grabbed the man’s shirt roughly, pulling the bastard closer as his carefully stoic face began to melt into a rare display of...anger? It was an intimidating, nearly terrifying look that you had seen directed towards you once, but now it was showing in defense of you.

“You speak that way to a woman again, and you won’t be so lucky as to leave with just a bruised ego this time,” he murmured, the low words deceivingly soft as they rumbled from his chest.

The weaselly man looked between Joel and you, forcing laughter even as he could tell he was outnumbered. His next words were his own fault, the final nail in the coffin as he sneered to Joel, “Shit, I can’t imagine the pussy is actually that good for you to defend—”

A crack filled the air as Joel’s fist collided with the man’s face, sending him flying back into the table where his friends sat behind him.

“Joel!” you shouted, grabbing his shoulder to try and pull him back, even as he didn’t budge. “Jesus, Joel, you can’t just—”

You continued to tug at his shoulder, and when he finally looked back at you, the man shifting on the table caught your eye, and your words cut off. The glint of something sharp followed the sound of glass shattering, and you stepped in front of Joel before you could think twice about it. Your arm lifted to defend yourself, letting out a yelp of pain as you felt the broken bottle slash across it.

Chaos descended upon the bar.

Shouting rose up around you as you saw a few men grabbing the stupid son of a bitch who just tried to instigate his own funeral by attempting to cut Joel. You turned, the sound of Tommy’s voice shouting pulling your attention as you saw your friend holding back his brother, who was trying to escape his grip to fight the bastard with barely contained fury.

“One punch,” you heard Joel muttering angrily as Tommy kept pulling him back. “Just one punch, teach him a fucking lesson—”

“You already taught him a lesson, Joel, you broke his fucking nose!”

You blinked, pulling your arm up to look at the blood trickling down it. While you felt slowed, almost out-of-body by the combined dampening of adrenaline and alcohol, the action seemed to finally grab the attention of Joel and Tommy. The men abruptly stopped their struggle as they turned to you.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tommy addressed the gathering crowd loudly, pulling their scattered attention to him as he stepped forward to grab your assailant by the back of his shirt collar. He shifted into his authoritative tone as he continued, “No more excitement for tonight.”

Tommy looked between the bleeding man he was holding onto and Joel, sighing before he said in a level tone that commanded respect, “Maria will have a word with you both tomorrow. For now, go treat your wounds.”

He gave a small shove that was hardly gentle to the guy, who stumbled away as his friends rose to escort him out. Tommy glanced at you, mouth opening as Joel pressed some clean napkins he had picked up from a nearby table against your bleeding cut.

“I’ll get her treated and home safe,” Joel said quietly to Tommy, the younger brother glancing between you two with a furrowed brow before you nodded at him.

“Go tell Maria what happened,” you added softly as you held the napkins to your cut. “I’m fine.”

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered something along the lines of not knowing what to do with the two of you, before leaving with a nod and short farewell.

Joel’s hand found a spot between your shoulder blades, gently ushering you out of the tense atmosphere you had created and into the fresh spring air outside. The chill of the late night breeze sobered you up a bit as he continued to lead you in a direction that you slowly realized was in the opposite direction of your house.

“Wait, but my house is—”

“I have first aid at my place,” Joel interrupted your confusion in a short tone, to which you raised an eyebrow in response.

“So do I,” you said slowly, watching as he stared at the dark street ahead like he was refusing to look at you.

Even with his hand still pressed firmly on your upper back.

“I don’t know where stuff is in your house," he muttered, still not looking at you as you turned onto the darker streets of one of the residential districts in Jackson.

You snorted, a small smirk creeping on your lips as you blamed the alcohol flooding your system for fueling your cheeky remark.

“Yeah you do,” you muttered, and he finally glanced back at you in disbelief when you added, “You know where the mugs are, at least.”

Joel shook his head as he led you to his house, saying nothing else aside from muttering to himself, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You laughed at that, unable to resist the humor in his exasperation at the situation, even as his hand finally fell from where he had been guiding you when you stopped outside a large house. When he led you up the steps and through the gate to his new home, you whistled low, nodding in appreciation at the scale of it.

“Damn, Joel, they set you up in a place way bigger than mine," you drawled, smirking again as you heard a quiet scoff escape him from where he had moved to walk ahead of you.

Yeah, the alcohol was definitely to blame for sarcastically teasing Joel so much, even as he continued to give you replies that were as short as always.

“Shut up,” he muttered, though not unkindly as you crossed the path up to the porch.

A smaller building nearby caught your eye as you waited for Joel to open the door, and you turned to see a garage with the lights on a bit farther away from the house.

"What's that?" you asked, nodding towards it, and Joel followed your gaze after the front door swung open.

"Ellie lives there," he muttered, offering no further explanation as he walked into the house, and you followed without any more questioning.

The few tones Joel spoke with were familiar enough now for you to know when not to press something. Even though you tolerated each other's presence more than you had before, Ellie was still a topic that he rarely discussed, and you didn't push him on it. It wasn't your business, anyway.

You glanced around you, trying to take in your surroundings as you entered the home, maybe gain enough of an opinion to critique his taste in décor if it was poor. But he herded you down the hallway, not giving you a chance to collect any witty remarks as you walked through a makeshift washroom-closet and into a kitchen on your left.

“Really, a kitchen again?” you teased, snickering at his annoyed huff as he sat you down at a small table next to a window, even as you were surprised at your own blunt reference to an act neither of you have dared to discuss openly since his return.

“You’re insufferable when you’re drunk,” Joel muttered, maybe more to himself than to you as he went back into the washroom to rifle through something.

“Says the drunk man who broke somebody’s nose,” you bit back with no small amount of snark, unable to hide your smirk as he reappeared with a first aid kit and a humorless expression that made you laugh.

Joel pulled the other chair at the table over next to yours, sitting in it as he set the first aid on the table.

“Insufferable,” he repeated to himself with a shake of his head, opening the kit and pulling out the supplies he needed to clean your wound.

Joel peeled away the napkins that had stuck to your skin, and if he saw you wince, he ignored it. He focused on his task, making no attempt at small talk as he made sure the bleeding had stopped before applying disinfectant. You held back any reactions from the sting, watching him as your head tilted in quiet observation, his silence giving you a moment to think.

Genuine surprise had flooded your being when Joel had stood up for you at the bar. While you had seen hints of a rare, odd sense of something almost akin to chivalry in the older man, the fact that he went so far as to break a man's nose rendered you into disbelief.

If somebody had told you months ago that Joel Miller would deck a man in the face because they had called you a whore and made an out-of-pocket remark about your pussy, you would have laughed for a long, long time in incredulity. Hell, you still wanted to laugh from doubt at it happening even now. There was no time, no universe, in which Joel—the man who had regarded you as nothing more than a nuisance—would commit such an act for you.

Yet here you were, sitting in his kitchen as he tended to a shallow wound that you had taken on his behalf. A favor for a favor, you supposed—his defense of your honor, your defense of his body.

“What?” Joel asked, sparing a glance up towards your analytical gaze and pulling you out of your inner monologue. He looked back down at your cut, wiping the cotton drenched with disinfectant over it again as you considered how to respond, wondering how much of your thoughts you wanted to reveal, if any of them.

“Just thinking about what a Southern gentleman you are,” you finally revealed in a light tone, holding back a snicker as he shot you a bemused glance.

“What?” He repeated, his voice holding more confusion this time, and you sighed. The sound was melodramatically tired, as if you were exasperated by his lack of understanding. Inspired by Dina's penchant for theatrics, even though you were only teasing right now.

“That’s the second time you’ve defended my honor,” you said the last few words cheekily, mocking a posh accent when you spoke of honor as Joel huffed at your strange show of dramatics. The next words were more serious though, more contemplative as you observed him and asked, “Trying to repay those debts?”

He shook his head, tossing the slightly bloody cotton pad to the side as he picked up a medicine cream that would help the cut heal.

“Still doesn’t count,” Joel muttered, squeezing some of the cream out onto the tip of his forefinger before gently running the rough digit along your injury. The feeling of his coarse touch against your skin made you shiver, the sensation a reminder of how it had felt when he was thrusting his fingers inside of you.

“Because I could have handled it myself?” you finally asked once you had pulled yourself out of the vivid memory, blaming both the flashback and the flush on your cheeks on the whiskey.

Joel hummed in affirmation of your question, screwing the top back on the cream once he had finished spreading it along your cut, and setting the tube back down.

“I lost my head,” he finally said quietly after a moment of silence, and your gaze refocused back on him from where it had been wandering around the room, taking in his interior design choices. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Eh,” you shrugged a shoulder, a small smile tugging at your lips. You didn't know why he had lost his head, but you found yourself unable to ask why before you admitted in a softer tone that you surprised even yourself with, “I don’t…not appreciate it.”

Joel didn’t look at you, and you didn’t look at him as you cleared that hint of softness out of your throat and mind. You were unaware of the sentiment until you had said it, and you were eager to rebury it in the back of your mind, in the empty grave all memories of Joel had managed to claw their way out of since his return to Jackson. Maybe if you buried it well enough now, he would stop haunting your subconscious.

You took another moment to glance around his kitchen that was much larger than yours. The sight of a coffee pot on the stove made you laugh, turning back to him with another smirk as he picked up a roll of gauze.

“Are you going to offer me a cup of coffee?” You asked slowly, not really sure where this constant influx of sultry snark was coming from, but you were powerless to stop it. Must be the alcohol.

You were surprised by the quiet chuckle that left Joel’s lips, a sound you had never heard before that made your heart skip a beat. The small smirk dancing on his lips made your stomach flip as he replied surprisingly smoothly, “I guess I do owe you one, huh?”

A smirk of your own was your only reply as he spared a glance up at you. Joel shook his head, gaze turning back down as he bandaged up your arm.

“That’s a bit overkill,” you remarked, examining the bandage he had wrapped around your entire forearm as you rotated it once he had finished.

“It gets the job done,” Joel sighed, packing the first aid kit back up and flipping it closed again. “You should be glad it wasn’t deep enough to require any stitches.”

“Because you would’ve done a shitty job and given me an ugly scar?” you asked, not expecting a response as he stood and took the kit back to the washroom.

“Yup,” you heard his deep voice respond from the other room, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the blunt admission as you leaned back in your chair.

It was...weird, this almost amicable atmosphere between the two of you. You had never spoken to each other so easily before, and you blamed the strange phenomenon entirely on the whiskey you both were drunk off of.

Glancing through the other doorway into the adjoining dining room, you noted that Joel had a lot of warm earth tones in his home. It was cozier, more homey than you would have expected. You wondered idly if Tommy or Ellie had helped him with the furniture choices, or if it had been all him.

The colors and the feelings they evoked also reminded you of how he smelled of that earthy scent you couldn’t name as he licked and bit down your neck.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat as arousal stirred within you. Joel walked back into the room, pulling your attention when he sank back into the chair that was still next to yours, his knee brushing against yours once he was seated.

Silence that had become typical between you fell again.

“So,” you started slowly, fingers tapping against the table, desire pooling between your legs as his knee brushed against yours again. You cleared your throat, trying to find a topic to distract yourself from the fact that his presence was much too close to you now, nothing distracting you from his annoyingly magnetic presence.

When a topic from earlier flashed through your mind, you grasped onto it quickly as you teased, “Esther, huh?”

Joel groaned, running a hand over his hair and effectively messing it up, the look of the disheveled, gray curls only making your lust stronger as your knees pressed together. Shit, maybe this topic wouldn't work.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, not looking at you in favor of rubbing the badly healed scars on his knuckles that you had noticed in your kitchen months ago.

His words were pointless though. Despite your best judgment that told you to take the opportunity to switch the topic, you had already started, and you wouldn’t stop now.

“With a name like that, she must be as old as you, right?” you asked, arching a brow as he turned to watch you blankly. You couldn't stop a snicker and smirk as you added, “Like, from the 1800's old?”

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rested an elbow on the table and dropped his face into his hand.

“Can’t imagine the sex is good, if she’s that old,” you continued, spurred on by his exasperation, and grinning impishly as he groaned into his hand.

“She’s nice,” he finally muttered, hand falling away from his face even as he kept looking down at the table, and you nodded along slowly.

“Right, nice," you assented, not sure why the words made you restless as you glanced away from him.

You kept nodding, looking around the kitchen, when your gaze fell on the coffee pot again. A smirk grew on your lips as your eyes darted back to his, and your chest fluttered in excitement when you saw he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes now.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t think you were the type who liked ‘nice’, Miller.” The words were dark, almost sultry, and you saw something in Joel’s gaze shift as it focused entirely on you.

“Oh yeah?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, his arched eyebrow begging for more of your defiance as he leaned towards you just an inch. “And what type do you think I like, exactly?”

Your fingers continue to tap a rhythm against the table, slowly moving closer to where his own hand rested until you were right next to it. Your touch hovered inches from him even as you continued to tap the surface around his fingers, avoiding touching him directly, only letting your fingers graze against his occasionally. A whisper, a temptation, a plea to touch him again.

“Sluts,” you answered slowly, the filthy term rolling off your tongue as Joel’s eyes darkened on the way your mouth formed around the word. “If I’m remembering correctly.”

He said your name in a low tone, the sound a warning, but you only saw it as a challenge.

You leaned closer, your fingers still dancing around his hand, head tilted with a sly smirk. Joel’s knee pressed harder against yours as you slowly spread your legs, and his gaze flashed down between them, his hand curling into a fist as he understood exactly what you were implying.

“You’re drunk,” Joel said quietly, voice husky as he tried to turn you down, even as he refused to look away from your opened legs.

“So are you,” you whispered, your fingers finally grazing directly over the top of his hand, and he jolted.

Joel leaned back from you, gaze darting away from you, and your stomach almost dropped from disappointment, maybe even embarrassment, before he looked back at you not even a second later.

“I—” Joel shook his head, swallowing thickly. “We shouldn’t—”

His eyes caught on your seductive smirk, and he shook his head again, the defenses in his gaze falling all at once as he breathes out, “Fuck.”

Joel’s hands were on you within a second of the murmured curse, pulling you roughly out of your chair and into his lap. His head buried in your neck, tongue and teeth finding your skin as you moaned loudly from the feeling of him suddenly pressing against you because finally, finally. You had been wanting him for weeks, even though you had tried to deny it, and now you finally had him again.

And maybe you were both drunk, maybe you both would regret it in the morning. But you wanted him now, just as much as he wanted you, and that was enough.

Your hips rolled, pushing your throbbing clit against the erection that was growing in his pants already, even as all he did was mouth at your neck.

“I make you this hard just by being in your lap, Joel?” you murmur, continuing to grind your hips against him, and he grunts.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered, pulling his head back, and you darted down towards his lips before he grabbed your chin in a firm hand.

“No,” he said stiffly, his gaze serious even as it became clouded in lust from the feeling of your clothed pussy pressing against his hard dick in his jeans.

“You have this rule for every girl you fuck?” you whisper, rolling your hips against his faster, and his look of annoyance faded into one of hazy desire as his eyelids fluttered and his head fell back. Your tone was more biting as you added, "Did you have it for Esther, too?"

“You really do have a sharp mouth, don’t you?” Joel muttered, and you laughed, jolting forward and pressing against his chest when he suddenly slapped your ass. “Pants off. Now.”

“So demanding,” you chastised, even as you stood and did what he told you to.

You made a show of it, your fingers circling the button of your pants before unbuttoning it. Joel’s eyes were glued to your seduction as you slowly unzipped your pants, then slid them down until they pooled at your feet on his kitchen floor, and you stepped out of them.

“Panties too,” Joel murmured, his hand rubbing his thigh as he leaned back and watched you, and you laughed breathlessly.

“What happened to your Southern manners?” you teased, and Joel raised an eyebrow.

Without a word, his finger reaches forward, dancing along the hemline of the dark, simple panties you were wearing. His finger curves under the band on your thigh, the rough pad of it skimming against your skin before he grabs the banding and swiftly yanks, snapping your panties and letting the fabric fall to the floor.

You blinked rapidly, unable to help the light laugh of surprise that left your lips even as he nodded towards the table behind you.

“Sit.”

Shifting backwards, you pressed your hands against the table and hopped up, bare ass pressed against the cold surface as you smirked at him. You spread your legs for him, and Joel inhaled sharply through his nose, his hand twitching on his thigh as if he wanted to touch you, but still he held back.

“Touch yourself,” he murmured, and your eyes widened before the words sent desire curling low in your stomach.

You placed your hand on your lower stomach, fingers spread as you dipped down lower, until you slid them through your folds that had grown wet from his words and your grinding against his hips.

“Already so wet,” Joel muttered, his hands moving to slowly unbutton his jeans even as he kept watching you touch yourself.

The sight of him unzipping his pants caused your breath to hitch, your wet fingers tracing up to begin to rub slow circles over your clit. You bite your lip, feeling the pleasure start to build as you touch yourself while Joel busies himself with pulling his cock out of his pants.

It was the first time you had actually seen it and, fuck, he was big. You already knew he was, had felt every delicious inch of him deep inside of you. But seeing the strong, stoic Joel Miller sitting in front of you now, legs spread with his cock in his hand, hard at the sight of you, was enough to shoot you even closer to an orgasm.

“Don’t you want to feel?” you whispered, shivering with a moan as you watched Joel lift one of his hands and lick his palm slowly. A brief thought passed through your mind, wondering what that tongue would feel like working at your clit instead of your fingers, and you began to stimulate yourself faster.

“Oh, I will,” Joel gave a small smirk, one that grew just a bit at the moan that left you at the seductive teasing and that downright fucking sinful smirk.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes glued to his hand as it found his dick and he began to pump himself slowly.

Joel grunted, and you locked the sound of it away for later, for those lonely nights where you had only your own hand and no other company to bring you pleasure. He fists himself almost lazily, eyes drinking you in as your fingers picked up on your clit. Your mouth opens, breath coming in small pants as your hips begin to lift towards your own touch.

“That’s it,” Joel murmured, and you resisted the urge to close your eyes and tilt your head back, too intoxicated by the sight of him getting himself off just from watching you touch yourself. “Make yourself cum because of me.”

A loud moan escapes your parted lips, hips bucking up into the air as you rubbed your clit faster, finding just the right angle as your pleasure crests, then explodes through your body as you lose yourself in the mind numbing bliss of an orgasm.

Joel stood as you moaned through it, hands finding your sides to lower you back against the table even as your thighs twitched from the aftershocks of the orgasm. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you spread across his table, your face flushed and pussy dripping wet from an orgasm, before he collected your release on his fingers and spread it across his dick.

He pumped himself a few times, placing the head of his cock against your entrance as you looked up at him, licking your lips in anticipation.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, and you nodded quickly, legs wrapping around his hips as he slowly pushed into you.

Even though you had already felt him inside you before, it felt just as delicious as the first time you had fucked as his dick entered you inch by inch. Your cunt gripped him tightly as he bottomed out, his palms placed on either side of you, bracing himself against the table as he leaned down.

For a moment you wondered if he was going to break his rule, but Joel stopped before he could get close enough to kiss you. He seemed to be trying to collect himself, brows furrowed and eyes dark as sin as he pulled out of you a few inches to thrust back in.

You moan at the same time he does, though Joel was much quieter as he pulled out to thrust back in again.

And again.

The sound of the wooden table creaking, the legs scraping against the tile of the kitchen floor as Joel fucked you was almost as deliciously sinful as the sound of skin slapping against skin with each thrust. One of your hands grabs the edge of the table above your head, your other hand snaking down to rub your clit as he begins to thrust faster.

“Fuck, you—” Joel cut himself off, still holding some part of himself back, even now when he was fucking you like you were both utterly depraved, sinful beings. Which you might be.

“So good,” he finally mutters, his hands coming up to grab the top edge of the table around your hand, his forehead falling to rest against the table next to your head so you could hear every grunt, every sharp breath of pleasure leave his lips as he fucked you. “Feel so good.”

“Mm,” you moaned, nodding desperately to agree even as the ability failed you to concisely word the pleasure that was building. “Close. I’m close.”

Joel also nodded beside you, turning his head so his lips could graze your ear.

“Cum on my cock,” he whispers against it, breath fanning against the sensitive skin, and your hips jerk forward to meet his hard thrusts, fingers desperately rubbing your clit until the climb of pleasure broke, and your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched as you cried out from the intense pleasure, soaking in the feeling of your quivering walls gripping every inch of his dick as he fucked you through your high.

“God,” Joel groaned, grabbing your hips as he leaned back, pulling you roughly against him to meet each of his hard thrusts. You fought to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you watched his head lean back, lips parted as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

He bucked into you hard once, twice, before pulling out, his hand finding his dick as he pumped the cum out of his cock to land on your inner thighs. Joel panted, eyes opening and glazing over from the ecstasy of his orgasm. His chest kept heaving as he continued to catch his breath, even as his gaze lowered to look at you spread out and well-fucked on his table beneath him, his cum dripping down your thighs.

“Here we are again,” you murmur once you could find your voice, the words hoarse, your eyebrow arching as a tired smirk turns up your lips. “I think you might have a thing for kitchens, Joel Miller.”

A huff that sounded a bit too much like a laugh escaped Joel’s lips, and he shakes his head as he tucks his softening dick away. He turns, walking over to his counter, and your head drops back against the table, mind swimming with the desire to give into the gentle lull of sleep in the sweet afterglow of sex.

“Here,” Joel murmured, and you opened your eyes to see he was holding out a hand towel he had used to clean his hand.

You take it with a nod of thanks, pushing yourself up with weak arms until you were sitting up well enough so you could clean the mess he had left between your legs once again.

He took the towel back once you were done cleaning yourself, moving into the attached washroom to supposedly drop it somewhere to be cleaned later before walking back out to meet you.

Joel’s hand reaches out, an offering to help you up, and you give a small, amused smile at the familiar situation as you take it.

You stumbled a bit as you stood, and Joel’s hand tightened on yours minutely, helping you steady yourself. You murmured a tired thanks, leaning down to pick up your ruined panties, shoving them in the pocket of your pants once you pulled them back on.

“I’ll walk you home,” Joel said quietly, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you looked at him. He rolled his eyes, gaze averting as he muttered, “I promised Tommy.”

“Ah,” you nodded, the thought of your friend making you wince because, shit, you’ve fucked his brother twice now.

Maybe Joel was thinking the same thing, because you both went quiet as you fixed yourselves up so you looked presentable enough in case you ran into anybody else on the walk back to your house, and not like you had definitely, without a doubt just fucked each other. Your legs were shaky as you left Joel’s house, but you had walked further distances on more unsteady legs before. This wasn’t that hard.

It was quiet, the chirps of insects the only sound you could hear other than the echoes of your shoes tapping against the pavement as you walked down the empty streets of Jackson. Luckily, you didn’t end up running into anyone as you rounded the corner onto your street, and saw the familiar Number 27 that you called home.

Or tried to call home.

You sigh quietly, hands shoved inside your pockets as you glance back at Joel. The two of you came to a slow stop in front of your fence, and after a moment of trying to catch his eye and failing, you shrugged to yourself as you reached out to push the gate open.

“We can’t do this again.”

The words made you pause, and you glanced over your shoulder back at Joel.

He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze turned up towards the night sky. Jackson wasn’t so well-lit that you couldn’t see the stars, and one glance up showed that the multitude of those stars were twinkling in the clear expanse of midnight blue before you looked back down.

Your eyes traced over Joel’s face, over the strong nose, gray scruff, and wrinkles that were from both age as well as a hard life of survival and loss.

“Yeah,” you found yourself agreeing quietly, your feet shifting away from him, walking backwards down your path as you didn’t look away from him just yet. “Yeah, we can’t.”

Finally you turned, walking silently the rest of the way up to your porch. It wasn’t until you were through your door and shutting it behind you when you felt that familiar, intense gaze on your back.

You ignored it.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller slowburn #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #a stranger's heart series

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larcenywrites · 2 years

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A Little Stark or Two?

Tony Stark x wife!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content, unprotected sex

Word count: 1,962

The house was quiet, as usual. Actually, maybe too quiet considering Tony was actually in bed tonight. There weren't any ramblings about some project or company issue or questions about weekend plans. Not even a snide remark trying to get on your bad side for the night! Not that the peace wasn't enjoyable, but at least some conversation would be nice while you were playing 'puzzle pieces' trying to fit some extra and unneeded blankets on the top shelf of the closet. How you had a house so big, and still no room was beyond you. And just when you thought you'd managed to balance everything together, something else just had to come crashing down!

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you yelled back, neatly gathering the spilled contents of the box and deciding you'd just make Tony deal with it tomorrow. But it didn't take long for you to notice what those spilled contents were.

Pictures that you hadn't seen in forever! Of Tony, his parents, and plenty of baby pictures that he'd probably made sure wouldn't see the light of day again... so of course you couldn't resist grabbing a stack to take back with you. Excited about your discovery, you nearly jumped onto the bed, crawling into your now confused husband's side and successfully pulling his attention away from his phone.

"Look," you cooed, leaning into him and getting a not quite as excited sigh when he realized what you had found, unamused and watching you flip through the old photos.

"You were so cute," you continued your awing, maybe over-exaggerating a bit to get on his nerves.

"I'm still cute," he said defensively, pouting when you looked at him and pretended to compare.

"Baby Tony was cuter," you sang your conclusion, smiling at the frown he gave you and giving him a quick kiss. He hummed in thought, discarding his phone onto the bedside table and leaning into you.

"We could make some cute babies," he commented not-so-innocently, voice low and close. A hand snuck behind your back, and lips found your shoulder. The implication had your heartbeat quickening, and you trying not to press your thighs together.

"You think so?" You matched his tone, turning to meet him.

"We could find out," he offered, playing with the bottom of your shirt and glancing down at your lips. You impishly grinned and bit your lip, knowing where his mind was at and reluctantly turning back to the stack in your hands. Tony would agree to anything when he was riled up, after all. When he realized you didn't have your attention anymore, he sighed forlornly and leaned back against the headboard, arm still wrapped around your waist.

But… it did have you thinking Tony was here most days at least (being a billionaire CEO with plenty of people to do his work for him had its perks), and he was more responsible than that loose cannon you'd met during his college days… sort of. He was spacey, distractible, and easy to bore, but of the few things that did remain constant, you were one of them. If he could put more love and care into anything else, it would be a family.

"Would you want to?" You turned, giving him your best please take this serious look. He glanced you up and down with a grin, not necessarily in a sexual manner but something that made you wonder if he had been waiting for you to ask. The deep and lingering kiss to your cheek might have held that answer.

"I think a little Stark or two would be nice," he finally broke the silence, an arm hooking under your thighs brought your legs to lay over his lap, hugging you into the warmth of his bare chest. "Waking us up every night and getting into my things," he continued fondly, "and probably as fussy as me." When you looked up at him he nuzzled into you with noses knocking and foreheads touching in a sickeningly sweet display. You curled your body into him just a little more.

"It is a little too quiet around here," you added wistfully. Tony didn't get into as much trouble as he used to, but a gaggle of little Starks would undoubtedly get up to no good.

"Wanna change that?" He shifted sweeter mood to something a bit heavier, trailing his touch to your inner thighs and moving to hover over your lips. Neither of you needed further discussion.

He was biting at your bottom lip and fervently licking into your mouth as soon as you closed the gap. Hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips softly grazing over your stomach before pawing at your chest, harshly thumbing and tweaking at your nipples. He dove straight to your neck at the first small moan, not needing further prompt. You lifted your chin, giving him all the access he needed and humming at the tongue that traced over your throat.

At the feeling of your shirt being lifted, you took over for him, displacing him from your throat and tossing the garment to the floor. He carefully lifted your legs, moving you back to your original position and pressing into your side urging you to lay beneath him. Teeth and tongue busied themselves between your breasts, arms caging around you as he mouthed his way down. You ran a hand through those dark curls and caressed over his arm, feeling his breath hitch against your skin just from your touch.

"Someone's eager," you teased, nearly out of breath already in such a short time. Obviously, he had something more important than foreplay to get to.

"Daddy's got a job to do," he muttered against your skin, placing an enthusiastic lovebite in the curve of your waist. He smirked when you jolted in response, letting go and trailing short smooches toward your last piece of clothing, leaving a lingering kiss in that spot below your belly button before reaching his destination. He eased a hand between your legs, a few fingers nudging past your underwear and spreading through the slick of your arousal.

"Someone's eager," he cheekily commented, a wet finger toying at your clit for a few seconds only to leave as soon as you pushed and raised your hips for more. You cooperated with him in sliding your last bit of clothes from your legs, impatient for him to do the same as soon as they hit the floor. And thankfully, he must have felt the same, ridding himself of his boxers and giving your thighs a few more frantic kisses that apologized for the lack of further foreplay. He took his place between your legs, stroking himself a few times before you felt the heat of his cock pressing into your entrance. His shallow thrusts were slow, easing you into opening up for him more first and softly setting your nerves alight with each gentle push that let him in a little further each time. You sighed blissfully when his cock finally found its home deep inside of you, tip kissing those hard-to-reach soft spots.

As much as he liked to take his time and keep you wound up, it was hard when you squirmed beneath him and your walls fluttered around him so tightly, beckoning him deeper and just begging to be fucked and filled. There was a brief pause in his rhythm as he finally lowered to you, greeting you with slow, tongue-heavy kisses. You moaned against his lips when he roughly bucked into you, slow but harsh thrusts bottoming out a few times before his fists gripped at the sheets on either side of you. He found his way back into the crook of your neck, groaning and pushing you down into the mattress just a little more to keep you right where he wanted you and rocking into you just a little harder and faster.

Your hands wandered, grabbing at his back, his arms, his neck, his hair- wherever you could grip and scratch to keep him close and curled into you. Your legs involuntarily squeezed against him with the jolts of pleasure that kept you on edge with every deep stroke that knocked at your end.

His moan was low, the hot breath against the pulse of your neck being enough to have you finally clenching around him impossibly harder, closing your legs around his hips and making him moan with the nails digging into his back as the burn in your core finally peaked. You could feel yourself working against him, pulling from him that delicious string of groans that complimented your own as he kept fucking through your tight heat with a purpose that had your nails practically tearing into his bicep as an outlet for your ecstatic overstimulation. But even with all that enthusiasm, only a few more thrusts had him faltering and obviously close.

"Fucking cum in me, Tony," you pleaded, breathily moaning against his ear, still coming down from your high and mindlessly babbling. He didn't need any more encouragement, slowing and stilling with a satisfied groan below your ear.

He kept himself buried as deep as he could, the throbbing swell of his cock almost too much as he finally came. The hips stuttering against your own only tried to probe deeper with each hot spill of cum right against the lower part of your womb, eagerly hitting his target. He'd occasionally finished in you before when your cycle allowed it, but this was something different, something vulnerable. It had you weak, legs trembling around his waist and only able to pant out a few whimpers as he kept you full and stretched to your limit. The lips against your shoulder soon left at your reaction, soothing you with soft kisses to your cheek as he finished.

Finally, he shifted above you, freeing you from the weight that kept you pressed into the mattress and moving his hands to your hips, starting to sit up. You winced at the last pulling friction of his exit, grunting in protest at the gentle prodding against your slit. Two fingers carefully dipped into you, pushing dribbled-out cum back into you and dragging teasingly against your walls as they exited, as if smearing it from his fingers. You threw him a glance, watching the shameless bastard place a kiss to your knee and return your stare with a wink before finally leaving you be, for the moment at least, going to do his typical cleanup routine while you pulled at the sheets.

A dip in the mattress had your attention, watching him climb under the sheets with you, invading your side of the bed and cozying into your pillow with you. Fingers ran through your hair, caressing down your neck before a palm cupped your jaw. You could only get so much closer to him, legs already touching and lips pressed to your forehead. You hated to interrupt such an intimate moment, but unfortunately, now you were the one that needed to get cleaned up. You reluctantly sat up, the arm around your waist finally slipping away when you slid off the bed.

"Where are you going," he whined, dragging out the -ing and curling into the sheets in your absence.

"To shower," you sang, looking back at him from the doorway. He peered at you over the blanket, waiting for permission to join in. "Would you like to continue?" You didn't stand around waiting to see if he would, but a pair of hands dragged you against him before the water was even warm, and the prickle of his beard was already tickling your neck.

Safe to say he was going to keep you busy tonight, but it wasn't going to be the last sleepless night.

#tony stark #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #marvel #marvel x reader

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mirrorsblogs · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐄. 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙝𝙤𝙡, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚

There was a certain energy that came from being in an environment like this. You stood off to the side observing the organized madness in rapture, people passing by, they paid no mind to your curious eyes. With a deft hand, you tried your hand over the various alcohol bottles present on the counter trying to decide on which concoction you wanted to drown in tonight.

Vodka, whiskey, rum-

“Did you want to stand there all day?” Someone shouted at you. Clumsily you poured the nearest drink bottle into your cup and hastily walked away from the table. You ignored the glaring eyes of those you kept waiting along with some jealous people lining the main room. These types of parties were never your scene but you decided to indulge your boyfriend’s wishes for just tonight though you began to regret that decision as he remained sparse.

For a moment you contemplated throwing your drink away and going back to your apartment but decided to explore just a little more. The glares of either envy or jealousy followed you all the while you walked down random hallways. It felt as though you got more and more lost in your surroundings but it was exhilarating to lose yourself physically. Though that could have been the alcohol talking.

“Fuckin’ rich people,” you whispered as the hallways seemed to stretch on and on. How big was this house?

Stopping in a hallway you noticed a larger portrait with all of Eren’s family with Jean’s and Mikasa’s. They were old money, something you were so very not. The judgmental eyes of Grisha Yeager looked down at your scantily clad body. That man had never respected you, much rather preferring a wealthier girl for his son than you. These girls were effortless where you worked yourself to the bone, they were graceful where you were headstrong, they were everything you were not.

Why did Eren ask me out?

Why did he want me?

Vaguely you registered shouting coming from the end of the hall which would have steered you in the other direction had you not recognized the voice.

“What do you mean you lost her? She’s my girlfriend, how do you lose her? Find her or I’ll-”

“Eren,” you mumbled, going for a side hug. Instantly you felt his muscles relax as a scared Falco nodded in thanks before quickly fleeing the scene.

“Where’d you go?” He questioned, placing his chin on the top of your head. His previously angered tone was nowhere to be found as he began to bask in your presence. You had this effect on him, he was always calmer around you.

“I walked around the house, and got lost.”

“Figures, did you want me to get you another drink?” Eren asked as he threw on one of his signature smirks.

“No I’m ok, I have work tomorrow anyway.” You could feel the frown on his face at your answer. Eren separated from you slightly to show you his expression but did not comment.

“Ok, let me bring you to the group then,” he whispered, leaning down directly into your ear. At his action, you nervously glanced around only to find that you both were in a secluded room far from any party-goers.

“Or we could stay here for a bit?” You slyly suggested, pulling on the hem of Eren’s shirt.

“Or we could stay here,” Eren confirmed, after a pause. He slid a hand to the side of your face and brought your lips to his. He tasted as he usually did, of cedar. Gently he guided you both to a nearby couch where you straddled him instantly.

“I like looking at you like this,” you whispered, upper half upright so you could stare down at the man for once.

“Don’t get used to it, princess.” The nickname made your heart flutter as he was the only one in the world who would call you such. It was ironic considering how you managed running a club, academics, and a job which contrasted heavily with being an uptight princess. Eren had initially used it to piss you off but quickly found the effect it had on you to be different, more fluster-inducing.

“Jean is going to kill us if he finds us making out in his house,” you said. Eren laughed as he kissed you hungrily again, his teeth bit softly into your bottom lip. You rolled your tongue over the bit part enough for Eren to slip his tongue into your mouth. For a moment you gasped at the sudden intrusion but quickly adjusted as you both fell into a sort of rhythm. A little squeeze from Eren on your hip there and a roll from your hips there made the experience all the more intoxicating.

“What the hell!” Jean yelled as he burst into the room. You broke apart from Eren and with no shame began laughing at his reaction. Eren chuckled too but moved you away from Jean as he stood up. “You should go find them, Sasha said. Maybe they’re lost, Connie said.”

“Sorry, horse-face! We’ll leave,” Eren said with an air of humor in his voice.

“Shut the fuck up Yeager and get out!” Jean shouted, pointing at the door behind him. Eren’s smile widened as he began to leave but not before holding a hand out to you. Grasping his hand you both made your way down the hall, retreating from the angered Jean.

“I told you!” You whisper-shouted at Eren.

“I don’t regret it,” Eren whispered in the same playful tone.

“Did you see his face? I swear it was red!”

“There was steam coming from his ears!”

After some more jokes traded between the two of you, the main party room came back into view. Instead of those glares that followed you everywhere, they were replaced with vying and impassive stares from everyone. You began to shy from it all until Eren kissed your temple.

"They're all jealous," he whispered.

"Of what?"

"You."

Eren instilled a confidence you never knew you could possess. Then there was the case of his smile that he never used to wear with pride as he did now. It was a newfound sense of happiness that you brought that caused it to form. Losing himself in the pleasures of life was something Eren was comfortable with until he saw you. Rather than drowning in alcohol he would much rather drown in the love you offered. Though you might have never asked him to quit his usual lifestyle Eren did, he changed. He did it for you.

As individuals we were hollow, together we are better, we are whole.

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x yn #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x yn #eren yeager #eren yeager angst #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x yn #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x yn

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ga-yuu · 10 months

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-----Part 1-----

Yoshitsune: "If there is someone in this world who could pry open his heart then it would be all joy for me."

Yoshitsune: "That's why, Yoshino."

Yoshitsune: "I don't want you to take part in the Great War."

Yoshino: "Eh...!?"

Shigehira: "Yoshitsune-sama! Are you..!?"

Yoshitsune: "I'm simply giving Yoshino options."

Yoshitsune: "I know that it's not the Shogunate's style to force a weak woman into a war, right?"

Shigehira: "...."

(...If this was Yoshitsune-sama's way of making sure I don't use my demon powers against him then my response would be 'no' without any hesitation)

However, I can feel that Yoshitsune-sama's words were truly meant for Sueharu-san.

Yoshino: "I...."

Yoshitsune: "You don't have to answer right now. I want you to think carefully and....tell me your answer before you go home tomorrow."

I swallowed my words while looking at the seriousness in his eyes.

Shigehira-kun also looked at me with a questioning look but remained silent.

Yoshino: ".......Okay."

Sueharu: *sighs* ".....what is happening right now?"

Sueharu-san sighed.

Sueharu: "Whatever. Let's all have party tonight with both Yoshino and Shigehira."

Sueharu: "I bought some good sake with me too."

Yoshitsune: ".....I'm looking forward to it."

Yoshitsune-sama smiled faintly and flipped his long sleeves of his kimono to walk away.

Yoshitsune: "Benkei. Will you come with me? I have something to tell you."

Benkei: "Of course."

I watched as both of them leave.

(They're gone)

Sueharu: "He says what he wants to say and simply disappears right after. That's Yoshitsune-sama for you."

Shigehira: "Wait a minute. When you said 'lets all have a party tonight'....does that mean 'everyone' will be there?"

Shigehira-kun started fidgeting restlessly.

Shigehira: "Then that means-----"

Yoichi: "Of course, your boyfriend Yoichi-san will be there as well."

(Ah!)

Shigehira: "! I knew it..!"

Yoichi-san approached us without making a sound and smiled at Shigehira-kun.

Yoichi: "Welcome to the Rebels' mansion, young master."

And behind him was...

Kurama: "I'll be there as well. Who's going to pour me a drink?"

Sueharu: "The party hasn't started yet."

(Kurama is here as well...)

Shigehira: ".............."

The atmosphere around Shigehira-kun started changing.

I could feel my body tense up.

Yoichi: "Oh no. Can't you at least try hiding your bloodlust when we're in front of others?"

------Part 2------

Yoichi: "Oh no. Can't you at least try hiding your bloodlust when we're in front of others?"

Shigehira: "Shut up!"

(Oh yeah...Shigehira-kun and Yoichi-san has a history together. I felt it when I first met them)

Yoichi-san then looked at me casually.

Yoichi: "Hello Yoshino. I've been looking forward for your arrival here."

Yoshino: "H-Hello. Thank you for taking care of me even if its for a short period."

Kurama: "Those without power should leave right away."

(Kurama isn't welcoming at all....!)

My shoulders jumped when I felt the air around Kurama change.

Yoichi: "Come on Kurama. Sueharu brought her all the way here, so let's get along."

Kurama: "That's why I'm allowing her to come into my sight and stand close to Yoshitsune. It's because of Sueharu."

Kurama: "But there is no rule to accept her unconditionally just because she is Sueharu's companion, right?"

(Wow....how impressive. Even if he's the same species as Tamamo, this one is completely different)

Kurama: "However, Shigehira doesn't seem bad."

Shigehira: "Mm? Huh?"

Shigehira-kun reacted to Kurama in a confused manner showing no signs of fear.

Kurama: "It's rare to find someone who isn't scared of me. That murderous intent I saw right now was quite strong."

(How cool....Shigehira-kun is not afraid of Kurama at all)

Kurama: "Come Yoichi. Shigehira. You two fight the battle of death and the one, who wins by killing the other, will fight me."

Yoshino: "Wait!! You can't fight...!!"

When I hurriedly raised my voice, Kurama flashed me a glare.

Kurama: "Who are you to stop me, little puss."

(Kyaaa!!)

Yoichi: "Hell no...first of all, breaking an agreement would bring dishonor to Yoshitsune-sama."

Kurama: "...Hmph."

Sueharu: "What about fighting with wooden swords?"

Kurama: "Now you're talking."

Kurama points his finger at Sueharu-san feeling all giddy.

Kurama: "That's right. No one's gonna complain if you 'accidently die while practicing with wooden swords'."

Shigehira: "It's still a big deal."

Yoichi: *sighs* "I don't care. Just bring someone to fight in my place, will you? I just wanna go to sleep."

Shigehira: "No! Why are you escaping from this?"

Yoichi: "Who says I'm escaping? I'll simply ask Benkei to take my place."

Shigehira: "Ngh....No wait..if it's Benkei-san, maybe he will help me train..."

(Shigehira-kun is even more excited!)

Yoshino: "Shigehira-kun is too susceptible to the temptation of muscles, huh....?"

Shigehira: "What are you talking about? Of course not...!"

Yoichi: "But your eyes are sparkling."

Kurama: "Don't make me wait. Let's go."

Sueharu: "Hide your wings first."

----Part 3----

Kurama: "Don't make me wait. Let's go."

Sueharu: "Hide your wings first."

Shigehira: "Hey! Can you please stop pulling me!?"

Yoichi: *SIGHS*

Both Shigehira-kun and Yoichi-san were dragged away by Kurama.

(Ehhh....)

Sueharu: "No matter what time I come to this mansion, it's always chaos."

Yoshino: "Ah, I can see that now..."

In the blink of an eye, I was alone with Sueharu-san.

(I don't think I can calm down...)

Sueharu: "Yoshino, I'll show you your room. I'll make you some tea while we're at it too."

Yoshino: "...!? W-What?"

Sueharu: "Yep. It's decided then. Let's go."

Yoshino: "W-Wait..."

His fingers intertwined with mine and pulled me...

...........

Out of nowhere, I ended up relaxing in 'my room' with Sueharu-san again.

Sueharu: "There you go miss, your tea."

Yoshino: "Thank you..."

(I was confused at first, but they all seemed to be very hospitable)

I take a sip and exhaled.

Yoshino: "It tastes unusual."

Sueharu: "It's a tea from the Song Dynasty. If you wanna get it in Hinamoto, you have to go through me."

(This is something so precious!?)

Yoshino: "My hands are shaking..."

Sueharu: "You're exaggerating. Don't think too much about it. Come on."

As I sipped the mellow, fragrant tea, I began to relax a little more.

Yoshino: "Fufu, I never thought a day would come when I'll be drinking tea brewed by Sueharu-san."

Yoshino: "Sueharu-san's room is also in this mansion, right?"

Sueharu: "Even though I call it a room...it's not like I actually live here."

Sueharu-san rested his chin, looking somewhat awkward.

(But still)

Yoshino: "Compared to your other 'bases', this one feels different, right?"

Yoshino: "Everyone here seems to have accepted Sueharu-san as a friend."

Sueharu: *sighs*"......I don't feel very comfortable when people look at me like that."

-----Part 4-----

Sueharu: *sighs*"......I don't feel very comfortable when people look at me like that."

Yoshino: "That's unusual. Usually you're always sarcastic."

Sueharu: "Are you trying to get back at me?"

Yoshino: "....Maybe?"

Sueharu: "Hey now."

We looked at each other and smiled.

Sueharu: "Come to think of it, you're the first girl I've brought to this mansion."

(....A-Again, I feel like I'm going to be conscious when you say something like that)

Sueharu: "................"

Sueharu: "Now that I brought you here, can I push you down?"

Yoshino: "No...! Why are you like this all of a sudden!?"

I stared at Sueharu-san feeling weak.

Sueharu: "You had a strange atmosphere a while ago, and I wanted to ease it."

-----Options------

Wasn't there anything else?

I don't understand

Instead of easing...

------

Yoshino: "Again with a straight face, I don't understand."

Sueharu: "Can't you see the manly spirit in my serious face?"

Yoshino: "Is that how you impress girls around you...?"

(But)

After I replied, I suddenly asked him.

Yoshino: "Maybe the reason you're having tea with me like this is to relieve your tension?"

Sueharu: "That's one thing. But...maybe I just didn't want to be alone."

Yoshino: "Eh?"

Sueharu-san frowns as if thinking of something.

Then he slowly opened his mouth.

Sueharu: "....Actually."

Sueharu: "I don't dislike this place."

Yoshino: "....? Hm?"

(What do you mean?)

Sueharu: "Whenever I come here, I'll be always welcomed like a family. There is no one here who has filthy hostility towards me."

Sueharu: "And yet, when I immerse myself in the chaos of this mansion...there are times when I feel an irresistible stirring in my heart."

Yoshino: "Eh..."

Sueharu: "I hear voices in my mind saying 'you don't belong here'."

Yoshino: "That's.."

Sueharu: "Yeah."

Sueharu: "I know it's unnecessary of me to think something like that."

-----Part 5-----

Sueharu: "I know it's unnecessary of me to think something like that."

Sueharu-san's answer was sad, as if he was suppressing it all away.

Yoshino: "Um, Sueharu-san."

Sueharu: "....'Next time you feel uncomfortable, please talk to me properly' right?"

(Ah....)

I thought it was a trivial agreement we exchanged before coming to Hiraizumi, but Sueharu-san unexpectedly brings it back.

-----FLASHBACK-----

Sueharu: "It's true that your warmth calms me down."

Yoshino: "....That's fine. But next time, if you feel uncomfortable, please try talking."

Yoshino: "It doesn't have to be with me....if you keep your feelings inside, it will affect you both mentally and physically."

Sueharu: "It's will affect both mentally and physically huh? I see."

Sueharu: "I'll keep that in mind."

-----FLASHBACK ENDS----

Yoshino: "...I see you remembered that."

(I said that thinking that he wouldn't take it seriously)

Sueharu: "Are you underestimating a merchant's memory?"

I stare back at Sueharu-san who chuckles faintly.

Yoshino: "So are you ready to talk to me?"

Sueharu: "....yep."

Sueharu: "Yoshitsune-sama makes strange accusations against me..."

Sueharu: "But I'm actually starting to get curious as to how far I'm willing to share things to you."

Yoshino: "That's a somewhat Sueharu-san-like reasoning..."

(But whatever the circumstances, I'm glad that Sueharu-san is opening up...)

Yoshino: "If you don't mind, please tell me what's inside Sueharu-san's heart."

Sueharu: "Yeah."

Sueharu: "..Where should I start now?"

After a short silence, Sueharu-san opened his mouth.

Sueharu: "You know when I was a child, Morinaga and I fought and broke up."

Yoshino: "...Yeah."

(Morinaga-san didn't like it when Sueharu-san was stealing food and money)

(So he tried asking his parents to make Sueharu-san a servant in his house....)

(Sueharu-san rejected it vehemently)

Sueharu-san began speaking in a low voice....

Sueharu: "After I broke up with Morinaga and left town, I just couldn't help but feel miserable."

Sueharu: "Without money, you can't even be equal with a friend. I had to learn that the hard way."

Sueharu: "So I took the chance getting into a get-rich-quick scheme that just happened to come along."

Chapter 19

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #cybird #ikemen mc #ikegen #ikemen genjiden sueharu #main story translations

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wraithsoutlaws · 8 months

Note

omg 10 on the soft prompts for Dagger and DD

10) Write about your ship helping each other get ready for the day in the morning.

cw: brief self-harm mention (not explicit) “Hey,” Dagger hummed, nudging an elbow into Dum Dum’s ribs. A car horn blared outside the window followed by the ringing echo of a gunshot on the wind. The soothing white noise of life in Northside hadn’t ceased for a moment all night. Dagger didn’t flinch at either, seamlessly focusing his attention back to his hands–the half knitted sweater between them, and the blood stain drying into the soft fabric. “It’s eleven.”

Dum Dum turned over. The mattress shifted, and Cockroach scurried out from underneath the ‘borg’s arm, quickly finding a new bed in the crook of Dagger’s neck. He greeted him with a sniff before plopping down sideways and curling into a ball unbothered. If he had to, the rat could sleep through nuclear war. He thought it’s possible that Dum Dum could too. After another minute, Dagger turned the knitting needle in his palm and jabbed the end into a crevice between wires in the hardware of his back.

“Fucker,” he groaned.

“You asked for it.”

“Mm.”

He still didn’t move. Dagger reached over his body for his smokes on the nightstand and lit one, voice flat. Uninterested. “Royce’ll have your ass if you’re late.”

He couldn’t give two shits what Royce wanted or not, but Dum Dum pulled himself up at the prospect, optics brightening in the dark room. A faint whirring kicked on like an old fan, the familiar sound of a stubborn body coming back alive. It’d quiet as quickly as the smell of burning chrome would fade.

“You sleep any?” Dum Dum asked.

Dagger spun yarn over his needle before his hand was pulled away and examined. The two cuts on his palm had stopped bleeding. One for each time he dozed off. Dum Dum almost frowned when he ripped it away.

No. He hadn’t slept any.

“How many days is that?”

“It don’t matter.”

Dum Dum didn’t question it. He knew it had been three anyway, and by tomorrow it wouldn’t matter how many drugs he inhaled or how many cuts laced those palms, he’d crash hard and dream bad. But tonight he was calm.

“What’s it today?” Dum Dum asked, shifting his focus to the tiny sweater spinning between Dagger’s fingers and when he held it up, he snorted. “Rat’s got more clothes than I do.”

“He chills easy,” Dagger said plainly.

When the chrome cooled beneath Dum Dum’s skin he stood, stretching out the cramps leftover from a still night. Metal left him heavy, and took its toll on the soft spots in between. Sometimes Dagger could hear it creak like a rusty hinge. He moved slower after waking.

“You coming tonight?” He asked as he dragged his feet toward the gun stash across the room, snatching up a pair of discarded pants on the way.

Dagger grinned up at him, a gleam flashing in his eyes that suggested something more lascivious to the words. His voice lowered, a purr thick with smoke. “You want me to?”

Dum Dum almost stumbled as he pulled on his pants, but he remained unreadable aside from the slight quirk at the edge of his lips. “I meant to the factory, asshole.”

“You know I don’t mind an audience.”

“Dunno anyone else wants to see your pasty ‘ganic ass.”

Dagger’s smile evened out and his gaze returned to the sweater. “Well, seems to me you already answered your own question.”

Nobody wanted him at All Foods. He didn’t take that personally. Usually, he showed up anyway, but sometimes it wasn’t worth eating shit. In the corner of his vision, he could see Dum Dum disappear behind the makeshift plastic curtain that separated one room of the small apartment from the next. The clink of gunmetal sounded like wind chimes as he loaded his weapon for later.

Dagger was almost finished with the sweater when the pillow beside him exploded with faux-feathers. He looked down to see his own knife laying next to him, the end of the blade just barely buried into the fabric. He followed the trajectory back to the gun stash, where Dum Dum stood impatiently. He rose a brow at him.

“You should come,” he said, sliding his revolver into the back of his pants. “I like seeing your pasty ‘ganic ass.”

Dagger found it suddenly difficult to move his fingers. He couldn’t help but look down, checking his chest, certain that the knife had actually nestled into his ribcage instead of the pillow. It was the only thing that explained the twisting knot growing near to his heart. But there was nothing.

He looked up again.

Dum Dum had come closer. This time he threw that cracked leather jacket painted with Maelstrom’s insignia straight at him. It hit like a truck, hard enough that even Cockroach’s head popped up in annoyance.

“C’mon,” Dum Dum insisted. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a small jar of Dagger’s facepaint, the black that he drowned his eyes in. He forced the glass into Dagger’s blood stained hand. “Royce’ll have our ass if we’re late.”

Dagger had a hard time prying his eyes from him. He couldn’t stop the smile cutting across his lips any better than he could will the beat of his heart to steady.

“Fuck Royce,” he said.

But he worked open the lid to paint his face, and hurried anyway.

#oc: dagger #dum dum #x: perfect drug #my fic tag #their mornings tend to start at night :>#also! cockroach sighting in this one hehehe #i told yall i was still working on them!!! we're getting there

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leavingkamino · 2 years

Text

chapter twelve - fruit for thought

Chapter Preview: “It was…” He frowned.

This was too vulnerable a question, he quickly realized, but his tired brain had already committed to it, “It was just a place. It never did feel like a home to me.”

“At all?” You asked softly.

He was then reminded of the only times it did. All of them involved his squad…his brothers.

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader (GN), Crosshair/You

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of needles, but it's very brief. No detailed descriptions.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Finale tonight/tomorrow and I'm still trying to recover from the last three episodes. Let's go insane together <3 But before that, I have the first part of a double update for you today <3

Also idk if people put disclaimers on their fics anymore, but the dialogue in the first sequence below was used for recreational purposes only.

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Tag List: @lackofhonor @leia-saveourskins @that-one-beannnn @sammercx @why-not-movies @lightning-wolffe @dwarfnip @imalovernotahater @salaminus @srryxmate @cipher-nine (tag list form)

It felt like he’d been here before. Standing in front of these civilians who were huddling closely to one another in fear. Like this had happened already, but he knew it hadn’t…had it?

And what was his objective here again?

Oh, yes. Find and eliminate Saw Gerrera and the rest of the rebel insurgents. Unfortunately, the coward was already gone by the time they’d arrived at the camp. He’d just dealt with the last remaining fighter who’d defiantly claimed she wouldn’t tell him where he was even if she had known his location. That was fine. He’d believed her, but since she had nothing else to give the Empire, keeping her alive was useless. He focused his attention back on the civilians.

“Do any of you have information you’d like to share?” he asked.

“We don't know anything,” One of the men answered fearfully as he wrapped his arms tightly around his Twi’lek partner, “We were promised transport off-world, that’s all.”

An unfortunate answer.

“Then you’re of no use to the Empire,” he said, raising his blaster.

“What are you doing?” he paused reluctantly as ES-01 protested behind him, “Gerrera’s fighters are dead. These are civilians. We should bring them in.”

Turning to the soldier under his command, he narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet, “Those weren’t our orders.”

“Forget our orders!” ES-01 barked back at him, "This is wrong.”

“So, you’re not going to comply?” he asked.

“No. None of us are,” ES-01 answered and turned to the others behind him, “Ignore the clone. We signed up to be soldiers. Not an execution squad.”

He scowled dangerously at ES-01. Orders were orders. The Empire needed to be rid of a threat so the only acceptable move here was to tie up any loose ends. And now another seemingly just decided to pop up.

“We’re going to detain the prisoners and take them in for questioning,” ES-01 stated.

Blatant disregard for the chain of command had consequences. Especially when out in the field.

“You want to know why they put me in charge?” he spoke with an added edge to his words, like that of a slow-acting poison.

ES-01 turned back to him.

“It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

Before the others could react, the soldier’s body toppled down to the ground as a blaster shot found its way directly into his chest. The rest of them stared down at the body, but didn’t move to raise their weapons at him. A smart decision.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” he stated and holstered his blaster again before commanding, “Finish the mission.”

He stood back and watched as the rest of his squad, hesitant at first, raised their weapons on the civilians. Their screams mingled with the sounds of blaster fire, but he felt nothing hearing them. Only indifference. This was simply what needed to be done.

With the final blaster shot he turned on his heel. A feeling of disorientation overtook him. He squeezed his eyes shut reflexively and opened them to see the artillery deck of the crashed cruiser on Bracca. And more importantly who he had surrounded on said artillery deck. Clone Force 99. This felt so awfully familiar to him once again, but he hadn’t seen Hunter and the others since they’d left Kamino. Left him there. Bitter anger welled up inside him, but he took pleasure in the fact that, finally, he’d caught them.

“Look at you all, scavenging like rats. How pathetic.”

“Why come after us?” Hunter asked, his blaster raised at him.

“You’re traitors,” he answered simply and it was true in more ways than one to him.

He signaled some of the troopers behind him to move into position, boxing them in even further.

“—wake up,” Hunter’s tone was bordering on desperate, “You’re being controlled by an inhibitor chip.”

“He's telling the truth,” A small voice spoke up and the kid, Omega, stepped forward, “The Kaminoans put chips in all the clones.”

“Remember what I told you in the brig?” She continued more softly, “You can’t help it.”

He almost scoffed aloud. His chip had already been removed. Quite recently in fact. This was simply who he was. A good, loyal soldier. His old squad clearly didn’t care to uphold that same mentality anymore. It was maddening and he once again felt anger well up in him. But…no matter that he’d been one of them once. He was ordered to eliminate them and good soldiers followed orders. Nothing was said of the girl though, but she was clearly the way to get to Hunter.

“Aim for the kid,” he ordered.

Hunter quickly maneuvered Omega behind him as they all directed their weapons at her. Fear and hurt flashed across her face as she glanced back at him. He wasn’t paying much attention to the other members of Clone Force 99 who were cowering behind cover, but they would be dealt with soon enough.

“Your issue’s with me,” Hunter angrily turned back to face him, “Not her.”

“I suggest you drop your weapon,” he drawled as he pointed his own at Hunter.

As soon as he finished speaking, one of the previously offline cannons fired, knocking back into him. His eyes squeezed as he was thrown over the railing behind him and onto the floor. He felt disoriented from the impact, but eventually pushed himself up from the floor. When he opened his eyes he could see Senator Orn Free Taa through the scope of his Firepuncher. A familiar image once more, though he couldn’t think of why.

He was waiting out of sight and out of mind for the admiral to give the signal. The senator would be incapacitated and these ‘freedom fighters’ would be arrested for the assassination attempt. Ryloth would be secure and the Empire could continue overseeing the refinery here without any more complications.

As he kneeled behind cover up on the rocky overlook and looked through his scope, he felt the underlying itch of the recently healed scar on his head. Anger still simmered inside him, but he focused on the task at hand, grip steady on his rifle. Cham Syndulla had his blaster trained directly on the senator. And right when he was beginning to debate whether Cham would end up doing his job for him, his wife—Eleni, he remembered—stepped up beside him.

“Taa’s time will come, but not this way.”

Her voice was quiet, yet firm as she spoke to him, resting one hand on top of the blaster and the other on her husband's shoulder. They turned to look at their daughter who was watching with concern. A slow moment of silence passed before Cham Syndulla finally lowered his blaster.

“Thank you for playing your part, Senator.” The admiral then looked up and discreetly nodded towards his position.

He followed the order and watched as the senator shouted and fell to the ground. He leaned back from his scope, a sudden wave of disorientation overtaking him. He blinked rapidly and shook his head before finding himself standing in a cave directly in front of—

The recognition and surprise hit him instantaneously. Hara and Kuli.

He was on Kiros. He remembered now what had happened to get him here. Kamino…he’d been left on that platform for days and you…he’d chosen to stay with you instead of going back. He remembered this job. He remembered that the Empire had ambushed the cave. In the end mostly everyone was saved and evacuated with the help of him and you.

So why was he pointing his blaster directly at Hara’s face? She looked up at him as she clung to her father’s unconscious body with such a terrified expression. Tears streamed down her green-dotted-white cheeks. He felt his fingers move on their own, resting on the trigger.

What? No.This was all wrong.

He tried to move his body. Lower his arm, take a step back, flip the switch to stun at the very least, but his limbs wouldn’t budge. He had no control over them. His stomach turned at the realization and panic bubbled up in his throat. In front of him Hara whimpered and her teary eyes desperately pleaded with him to stop. He tried to open his mouth to warn her, but his lips wouldn’t move either. It felt like they’d been sewn shut. He could only watch in horror, a prisoner behind his own eyes, as he pulled the trigger.

Crosshair awoke with a choked off gasp, eyes wide with fear and unaware of his surroundings. His whole body was tense, sweating and the way his head was pounding made him feel nauseous. Eventually he recognized the ceiling of the ship's barracks above him. He relaxed a little and tried to steady his breathing. He felt something wet trail down his temples and he quickly rubbed at his face.

That was when he remembered he wasn't alone. Twisting his head to look at your bunk he let out a sigh of relief once he confirmed that you were, somehow, still fast asleep. He breathed out again and waited a few more seconds before rolling out of his own bunk. Limbs feeling stiff and heavy, he dragged his body all the way to the ‘fresher.

He locked the door and rested a hand on the wall by the mirror to steady himself. His vision blurred. A spike of panic shot through him and he shut his eyes, the hand on the wall curling into a fist. He waited, breathing shakily before working up the courage to open them again. Crosshair breathed out a sigh of relief as his vision once again cleared. He frowned slightly in disgust as he caught his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed, more than a little bloodshot, and his skin was shiny with partially-dried sweat. He decided to use the sonic shower once he felt steady enough to move.

Instead of trying to go back to sleep afterwards, he found himself in the ship’s cantina. The lights were dim which helped the throbbing in his head. Dulled now, but still annoying. He sat on one of the stools at the bar and stared down at the countertop, frowning in thought. Back on Kiros it had seemed random enough to disregard, but it had happened for a second time now and he didn't know what to make of it. If something was happening to his ey—

Crosshair cut himself off before that train of thought could go any further, sighing frustratedly. He reached over to open the small compartment attached to the wall, pulling a toothpick out of it. Yesterday he’d come in right after they’d left Ord Mantell and had noticed it. Thinking you’d installed it to hide a back-up blaster or something else. He was surprised and amused when he’d found it full of toothpicks. Currently chewing on one, his mind unhelpfully flashed back to images, memories, from his dream. Every single one of those civilians’ screams, Omega’s look of hurt and Hunter’s angry glare, the entire orchestrated coup on Ryloth…Hara’s terrified, pleading eyes and the sound of a blaster shot.

Crosshair shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. That is not what happened. Hara was alive and with her father and the other colonists. Still, a durasteel-like ball of guilt sat in the pit of his stomach. It seemed to have grown exponentially since he’d left Kiros and there wasn’t any use in denying the truth behind it anymore. The door suddenly opened behind him and his teeth reflexively clenched around his toothpick. He knew it was just you, but that didn’t mean he was keen on having company right now.

Your footsteps were just loud enough for him to pinpoint where you were as you came up behind him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as you sat one stool apart from him. At first he thought it was out of consideration for his space, but then you put your socked feet up on it as you twisted the seat to face him. He fought the urge to grumble at you about it.

“Can’t sleep again?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“That’s none of your concern,” he said, “I’ll deal with it on my own.”

He wondered if his wording was too harsh. But then he questioned why he suddenly cared if it was. You didn’t look put off though. Instead your gaze softened at him. By now he recognized that it was because you cared, but it still made him uncomfortable for some reason.

“Go back to bed, Chip.” He said it so sternly that your brow furrowed before relaxing as if you realized something.

“Was it a nightmare?” you asked.

He looked down at the counter, “...Of a sort.”

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

He turned his head a little to look at you. The concern from you was almost palpable to him. And your eyes held a sincere openness that suggested you would listen to anything he had to say. Like before on Kiros, he once again entertained the idea of telling you the things he had done for the Empire. The choices he had made. But then he remembered how passionately you'd spoken in opposition of them during their first game of dejarik. The way you didn’t hesitate to offer the colonists help on Kiros. And that dangerous look that crossed your face as a TK trooper very narrowly missed one of their heads.

He frowned at himself as that ball of guilt grew again. He couldn’t tell you. He couldn’t risk ruining things. The, dare he finally admit it, friendly rapport they’d built up so far was comfortable. And working with you gave him a purpose he didn’t know how to find anywhere else, other than with the Empire. But he was not going back to them. If he told you the truth you’d probably throw him out of the airlock or, at best, kick him off of your ship as soon as you could. He had to keep this to himself. Guilt and all.

“No. I don’t.”

The concern on your face shifted to pure worry.

“It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real,” Crosshair said and he accidentally bit down on his toothpick so hard that it snapped.

“Doesn’t mean that what you felt wasn’t real,” You all but whispered back.

Crosshair had to keep himself from grimacing. He gave no response in return. He just flicked the broken toothpick into the trash chute nearby. The sound of the stool squeaking had him assuming that you were leaving. He was prepared to forget all about this by the time they landed in half a rotation. But you only went around the bar counter to the refrigerator. You took something out that he couldn’t see and then grabbed a plate and a knife. Coming back around, you sat on the stool next to him this time. A red rounded fruit sat in the palm of your hand.

“I got this at the market before we left and I was gonna save it for later, but I guess technically it is later so…”

It looked somewhat unfamiliar to him and the confusion must’ve shown on his face because you huffed out a laugh.

“It's vormfruit,” you explained, “We grow them on Dantooine. Or we did while I was still living there. Anyway, I haven’t had one in so long so when I saw it at the market I figured I’d buy a few.”

You began cutting it into slices and Crosshair focused on the steady movement of your hands, calmed by the simplicity of the action. His eyelids were starting to droop when your hand held up a slice of the fruit in front of his face.

“For you,” you said quietly, a tiny smile on your face.

He looked at you and took it somewhat hesitantly. The tips of his bare fingers brushed against yours and he ignored the way they tingled for a second afterwards. You then picked up a slice of your own. Crosshair stared at the fruit curiously before taking a bite. His eyes widened at the taste. It was good, sweet, but not overwhelmingly so and the texture was soft like a peach. He looked over to see you chewing slowly, thinly-veiled melancholy behind your eyes.

"Something wrong?" he asked after swallowing the first bite.

You blinked as if being taken out of a daze and looked at him, "Oh, I just…I remembered something that happened back on Dantooine."

He hummed and left the silence open for you to elaborate if you wanted. The apprehension on your face was noticeable. He let you go at your own pace.

"I used to work in the fields overseeing some of the crops," you started, "One day, I went out there to check on the vormfruit and I found…him and a few of his other squad members trying to sneak off with a bunch of them."

A small smile graced your lips, “You should’ve seen the look on his face after he realized his brothers had taken off without him.”

Crosshair smirked as he tried to picture a look of panicked betrayal on his face.

“I gave him an earful about it,” you said, “And I told him I wouldn’t rat him out to his commanding officer if he would teach me how to defend myself. And got the other two to apologize for trying to steal our crops.”

“So, you blackmailed him,” he said as he picked up another slice of fruit and brought it to his mouth.

Your lips flattened into a line and you smacked his arm lightly, causing the fruit to almost slip out of his hand. He gave you a dirty look, which you ignored.

“I wasn’t going to actually tell on him,” you said, “And he’d already brushed me off the first time I asked. I wasn’t a decent shot at all, no matter how much I practiced on my own, so I wanted to learn from the best.”

He felt the urge to scoff and make a comment about that last part, but he noticed your eyes starting to look a little glossy. He clamped his mouth shut.

“I had seen him practicing a few days before. I thought he was amazing. He hit so precisely every time,” you explained in wonderment, “I mean, I know that's what he trained for, but I had never seen anything like it. It was mesmerizing. I knew then and there that I wanted to learn from him.”

Your eyes then watered with wistful emotion. Before Crosshair could even think of what to say or do in response, you sniffed and turned away from his gaze, looking back down to the plate of fruit. You grabbed another. Only a couple were left now.

"What was it like on Kamino?" You suddenly asked him.

"Wet.” He shot back quickly.

That got a laugh out of you and he felt a satisfaction at your response.

"No, I mean…what was it like there for you growing up?"

Crosshair hesitated. He'd never been asked that before. Though he'd already mentioned a few things to you in passing, he still instinctively thought to wall himself away. Respond defensively instead of actually answering. But there you were in front of him, once again giving him that sincere look of openness and he caved this time.

“It was...” He frowned.

This was too vulnerable a question, he quickly realized, but his tired brain had already committed to it, “It was just a place. It never did feel like a home to me.”

“At all?” You asked softly.

He was then reminded of the only times it did. All of them involved his squad…his brothers. Training room competitions, mess hall jokes, late night conversations in their barracks. He thought again about the group picture they’d taken shortly after Echo had joined and he felt a bitter ache somewhere in his chest. Maybe he was mildly allergic to the vormfruit.

“Most of the time.” Was all he answered with.

“What was training like for you?” you asked after he said nothing else.

He paused to collect his thoughts. He'd never had such a difficult time thinking of what to say before. He blamed it on his own exhaustion.

“We were commandos. And we were told we were more elite than others due to our defections," he said and you frowned at the use of the word, "So our training reflected that. I'm capable of seeing and hitting a target as far as ten klicks in the distance, but it took rigorous lessons during my adolescence to learn how to use my vision properly."

The surprised look on your face had him realizing he'd never gone into detail about how his enhancement worked.

"Even then I was already better than reg sharpshooters and other commandos," he continued, "They didn’t like that."

"You sure it didn't have something to do with your attitude instead?" You quipped jokingly.

He glared at you and while there was a mischievous glint in your eye, he could tell you were being serious too. He ignored the question and continued on.

"The lab tests," he stressed the words out and tried to keep himself from shuddering as the memories of being poked, prodded and stuck with needles flashed through his mind, "Were the worst part of it, but I don't feel like talking about those."

At the mention of them your eyes filled with shock and concern, but you nodded slowly without saying a word.

"Did your reg ever tell you about what it was like on Kamino?" he asked.

You blinked and looked off to the side, “He only ever told me about the good parts, I guess. Growing up with his batch mates and funny stories that involved his squad. Now I’m wondering about all of the ugly bits he never shared with me.”

Crosshair hummed in response. You yawned then, covering your mouth with your hand. He was more than tired now and he fought the urge to yawn right after you. You turned your attention to the plate of fruit and so did he. There were two slices left. You took one and then inched the plate towards him to have the other. This last one tasted sweeter than the others, he didn’t know why. Once they finished eating you got up to dispose of the plate. Crosshair sat there contemplating if he’d just told you too much, but his tired brain didn’t seem to care enough at the moment. Instead it circled back to the emotion in your eyes every time you brought up your reg friend.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly blurted out, wincing at how utterly uncomfortable it sounded coming from his mouth.

There was a slight hitch in your breath, "For what?"

"What I said to you…back on Kiros. About your friend."

You said nothing for a few seconds and he took the silence as a rejection, but he understood if you still held some contempt towards him for it. Regardless of the talk they’d had in the medbay.

"I’ve already forgiven you." You broke the silence and turned to him with a warm look.

His eyes widened in surprise and for some reason the ball of guilt ever-so-slightly lighter.

"We should get some rest before we land on Daiyu,” you said as you walked to the door.

Crosshair got up from the stool, following you out. When they entered the barracks together it was a strange thing to him. They'd never gone in at the same time, let alone slept at the same time. Crosshair had always waited for you to fall asleep first. This time it felt surprisingly normal to him as he laid down on his bunk. He heard you sigh across from him as you got comfortable.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you said quietly as you turned over to face the wall.

He grunted in response and he heard you breath out a short laugh, shoulders shaking slightly. He huffed softly, staring up at the ceiling. A minute later he turned to look over at you. Your back was still facing him and your breathing looked like it was starting to even out. He looked back up at the ceiling and a calmness settled over him as his eyes fluttered closed. When he awoke hours later and headed to the cantina before they landed, the room still smelled faintly of sweet red fruit.

End Note: My anxiety is so bad right now I can't think of anything to say here lmao The next chapter should be up in a few hours.

Feedback is much appreciated if you feel inclined to give any c: Thank you for reading ❤️

#crosshair x you #crosshair x reader #crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb fic #fic; dark red #my writing*

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ciaossu-imagines · 2 years

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Queue Building Event

Just in case nobody has told you today, my beautiful readers - you look gorgeous, today. You are doing amazing and I'm proud of each and every one of you for what you've gotten done today, no matter how small it may seem to you!

Now, onto business! To kind of mark me returning to writing on here and to help me build a queue, I'll be rehosting an event that had been very successful the last time I did it and that I'm hoping will be as successful this time! Like most of my events, this will be a large, multi-day thing! I have no limits on the amount of questions you can send in, the amount of characters you can ask for, etc. Unless I'm particularly inspired by an ask or it's super quick to answer, I'll be queuing up the replies! If the ask falls into one of those two though, I'll likely answer it straight away whenever I get a spare moment in my busy days!

The event will go as follows: It opens tonight. For all of tonight, until the post tomorrow night announcing the new event day, I'll be accepting requests for the first day of the event and so on and so forth! The event days will be as follows:

DAY ONE, october 23: This day is all about music! I’ll be accepting all music mix requests! This is the only time I’ll do anything for shipping - send in a ship and I’ll create a playlist around that ship. Send in a character and I’ll do the same! If you don’t want full mixes or want more of theme, check out the following musical prompts - prompt 1, prompt 2, prompt 3, and prompt 4! If requesting for a prompt, please let me know the prompt number! There’s no limit on the characters or ships requested for though if there are multiple characters/ships, the mixes will be smaller!

DAY TWO, october 24: Today is all about AU’s! I’ll be accepting headcanon requests for various AU’s! Do you want AU’s for a certain decade - Tsuna as a 90′s kid for example or Hiruma Yoichi as a pirate? Do you want AU’s for a specific profession - Reigen as a soldier during WWII, Yata as a teacher, Genos as a retail worker, Sanzo a superhero? Do you want AU’s for a specific genre - Ronin Warriors as a cop show, Nanbaka as a horror movie, Servamp as a boarding school, Bleach a paranormal mystery? If you’re having trouble coming up with AU’s yourself, feel free to use the following prompts - prompt 1, prompt 2, prompt 3, prompt 4, prompt 5, prompt 6.

DAY THREE, october 25: The theme of the day is personalization! If you submit a description of yourself (and please be thorough, focusing on your hobbies, personality and likes/dislikes more than your appearance), I can do match-up’s (platonic or romantic), self-shipping headcanons, or complete the pairing prompt! Please be specific in your description, I cannot stress that enough, and let me know if you’re looking for a romantic match, a platonic match, the pairing prompt, or self-shipping headcanons! Also, please let me know if you wish to remain anonymous or be tagged in the reply under your username!

DAY FOUR, october 26: The theme of the day is underloved characters! Though it’s an often-used theme, it’s a good one! I’ll be accepting any types of headcanon requests, fanmix request, character aesthetic requests, gif reaction requests or similar for any character underloved by canon or fanon! This includes all prompts and memes currently posted here! My regular rules still apply though.

DAY FIVE, october 27: Today is all about polyships! Send me two-five characters and the number of one of the following prompts - prompt one, prompt two, prompt three, prompt four, prompt five - and I will write about those characters in a poly relationship/harem with the reader!

DAY SIX, october 28: I love holidays! Doesn’t everyone? Even if it’s out of season, send any holiday themed asks - fanmixes, headcanon requests, gif reactions, special holiday themed aesthetics, etc. - for any holiday and up to three characters! I’ll also be accepting the following holiday themed prompts - prompt one, prompt two, prompt three, prompt four!

DAY SEVEN, october 29: Let’s get smutty in here! Send me NSFW headcanon requests for a single character or a gif reaction request for up to three characters! Send me a kink and a character and I’ll give you a yay or a nay for whether they’d enjoy it or not! I’ll also accept single character requests for up to five symbols/questions per prompt out of the NSFW prompts listed here!

DAY EIGHT, october 30: Today’s theme is all about the supernatural and paranormal! Monsters and ghosts and witches, oh my! Fairies and elves and goblins, things that go bump in the night! Zombies and vampires, oh what a fright! Send in any paranormal or supernatural themed headcanon, fanmix, aesthetic, or gif reaction requests for up to three characters!

DAY NINE, october 31: Today is all about the character questions! Please be sure to specify the prompt number and character if using a prompt! Prompts - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven!

DAY TEN, november 1: It’s all about Disney! Send in any requests that have to do with Disney!

DAY ELEVEN, november 2: It’s a contest between characters! Send in two to seven characters and the number for any of the following prompts and I’ll answer to the best of my ability! Prompts: one, two, three, four

DAY TWELVE, november 3: Today is all about aesthetics! Feel free to request character or group aesthetics, themed or non-themed!

DAY THIRTEEN, november 4: Today we’re ending things with a relaxing sleepover! Treat me as a character and ask me anything from any prompt! Talk to me about your day, your favourite characters, your pets! Play fuck, marry, kill! Make me pick between horrible things! Ask me about fandoms! Basically anything goes today - this is just a fun day!

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thehealerthatcould · 1 year

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So I made an LoZ OC

I never share my ideas, characters, writing, etc out of horrific anxiety, but with the support of a close friend, I feel it’s appropriate to share my newest one. I kept thinking about how there was such potential for Ganondorf (and how much I wanna hold his hand) to be far more sympathetic in the series, as well as my constant appreciation for Fi and her spot as my favorite series companion. I made a reincarnation of Ghirahim. An update from windows 9 to windows ten as my friend Dimitri calls them. I’d love to introduce Garland, a sword spirit that was created after reforging the remains of the Imprisoned and Demise’s sword. I’ve decided to borrow one of my favorite designs of all time from Journey, specifically the white robe, I hope to fix that soon with a few artist friends once I commission them.

Underneath the hood would a face of light brown skin, long white wavy hair, and featureless eyes. I’ve intended them to be non-binary because I wanted to explore my gender expression through them, Zelda is one of those worlds that I feel would be a perfect setting to do so.

Garland is a new being due to the sword being broken down and made anew, with no memory of their previous incarnation.

Other than being able to immediately understand what’s around them, Garland is running on a fresh database of information. So any history to pull from is very limited, this causes them to express curiosity in the world around them. When it comes to serving as Ganondorf’s sword/servant. They act in a manner similar to Fi, empowering their blade, dowsing, information retrieval/translation. but outside of that, Garland spends the majority of their time out of the blade, examining everything with a slew of questions for Ganon, much to the Gerudo King’s annoyance.

Despite being made of Ghirahim, their personality is vastly different. The air of magnificence and intimidation that Ghirahim tried so hard to exert is replaced with a calmer need to be helpful. As well as forgoing combat capability for adaptability in better understanding human emotion, even going so far as to throw statistics aside for faith, similar to people.

The only reason Ganondorf has not disposed of Garland is, the blade they inhabit is an equal to the master sword. Satisfying the curiosity of a sword made for a god is a cheap price. A final small tidbit of their character is that their time flow works backwards. By the time they reach Ocarina, they will have many events of the future memorized and information of the past cycles to fill in the blanks as they move through different Ganondorfs.

I already have a drabble written for them meeting Ganondorf and one between Garland and Fi, and will be posting them tonight and tomorrow. I hope you like them as much as I do! And I’d be happy to answer any questions about them!

#oc #legend of zelda #ghirahim #I will not apologize for liking evil men #tloz oc #tloz

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xelles-archive · 4 years

Note

💗💬 @jose

Hi there, thanks for dropping by.

The double (?) heart was answered here.

💬 - Tell us a funny story about them!

Haha, we have a lot of ridiculous moments. Just like that one time when we both misheard what we were saying and had to include it in our nickname list. Xelle speaks Tagalog sometimes, so I can't understand a single thing they're saying. I believe they said 'ikaw kasi' but I misheard it as 'hosi'. Well, it sounds similar to my name, so I'm not complaining.

So, I proceeded to ask them if there was a Tagalog term for 'shadow'. They misheard it as 'shanon'. We laughed really hard that night.

Oh, and that time when we went to our honeymoon. I didn't tell them where we were going, so they must have thought I was intentionally going to make them vomit (they have motion sickness). They were angry the whole time we went there, but they eventually softened up and apologized adorably when they realized where we're at. I couldn't help but laugh.

I think it's always funny to see Shanon all pouty and angry. I think it's because they're smaller than me. They're like a chihuahua.

Thank you again!

꒰ F/O Takeover Asks ꒱

#f/o takeover: jose #Those are all the questions for tonight. I will be answering any remaining ones tomorrow if there are any.#I will be sleeping now. I'll try to put Xelle to sleep as well.#f/ovember #xelle.answered #⚓ my captain hook #self ship ask game

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xinnabon · 2 years

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So, the request-

Is it possible for a Albedo and an overly imaginitve reader, like the reader has non stop ideas to write, create and build things which lead to their whole room being full of clutter at times, how about Albedo and the reader making something together and the reader just rambling on ideas to make things better or more eye catching?

(Totally not inspired by my bookshelf project with my friend at school)

garden by dark.

#albedo kreideprinz x gn!reader! [overly imaginative reader]

.CW none at all! enjoy loves

.SUM albedo started a partnership with you and obviously decided to go all out with your ideas. fascinating enough.

a/n: thinking of this was pretty nice. thanks for requesting again!

you looked forward to be working together with albedo. with your reputation as someone who's highly imaginative, it can get you to many heights. and now, working with albedo himself? you weren't exactly expecting to get high but now be in a partnership with him.

your office was pretty much filled with everything. ask if the person needs a specific object, pretty sure it's lying down in the floor or even in the certain bookshelves. random spots. office was like your home but really, everything comes to a whole mess. once you got an idea, immediately work on it but your work in progress comes to be post poned or as a draft then proceed to a much different project. that habit already been going off in you for a while.

albedo already been observing how you went through on and on about most projects you recently thought of. you were something that was far beyond his abilities. you even brushed it off saying that it's normal for it to come. not to mention, he was interested how innovative you were expressive to your passion. it was satisfying.

he couldn't help to think that whenever you were discussing one of those projects, you always seem to left nothing out. he had no remaining questions somewhat similar to "how do you estimate the overall value of this?" or such. even if you did miss out, you'd give him an answer right away. he's far too fascinated with a certain kind like you, leaving no traces, no information left behind. you thought it all out through, just have a hard time in focus to accomplish one project to another.

starting a new project in your new partnership together as one. good thing you manage to come up a fewer ideas and stick one with the simplest but something admiring. researching together had already started. finding books with the right information, writing it down and putting it one in one, you were able to focus just because this night, it would feel like the last night of all to complete it. he loved that you were someone to go ahead in advance with these things but, you were willing to do what it takes with him. he knew you were the one.

"are you sure you aren't tired?"

"nope! we already made so much progress so far, and we can't drop it off. though, if you are... i won't pressure you at all. might be here until the sun is up."

your dedication already seems to be proven by albedo. not so bad for the first night of working together. pretty much had a few cup of coffees here and there, you really wanted to finish this, huh? he got a few glances of you without you realizing it. messy hair, eyebags, half-lidded, so delicate. you still try to keep compose of yourself but however, you tend to weaken and flutter your eyes and sink to your desk with all of the books, papers, documents, basically everything filled with information you two needed to know in order to process without any complex measures to go through. you shook yourself up right away to find albedo leaning before you. warm breath took away with your skin, feeling it all through, coming into a situation to pat your head.

"we'll continue this project in the afternoon so you can manage to take in sleep in the morning. i know you want to continue it but, be good for me tonight... and we'll see what comes the day tomorrow and the day after that."

your half-lidded eyes managed to flutter fully shut. sitting down on your chair with your arms full on displayed. the night ended but for sure, it will continue to have a strong bond at some point.

"so fascinating."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x gn!reader #albedo x fem!reader #albedo x male reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #albedo kreideprinz x gn!reader #albedo kreideprinz x fem!reader #albedo kreideprinz x male reader #albedo kreideprinz #albedo #albedo fluff #gender neutral reader #fem reader #male reader #xinniereaders

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bestedoesmeow · 2 years

Text

-well, heaven knows I'm miserable now bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings:none//includes a lot of comforting behavior,smooth roo,late night walking and talking

notes: sorry if u see any grammar mistakes,hope you have fun bestie

word count:2077

Since you don't feel like you fit in and belong at Top Gun, you are having anxiety attacks and second thoughts about becoming an aviator. However, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw,who is at his last week at Top Gun, is come to change that in a single night.

''If you ever behave that way up there, you can be sure that you won't survive long here. "(Your callsign) you are terminated from all flights this week. ''

Admiral said in a tone sending shivers down your spine.

''You are dismissed,tell Lieutenant Johnson that I'm waiting him.''

''Yes.Sir.''

You affirmed before carrying out his instructions. You walked out of his office and gave Johnson the go-ahead to see the Admiral in his office before making your way back to your quarters while attempting to contain your tears. You had a terribly difficult week because you were constantly pushing yourself outside your comfort zone and failing.Knowing that you were the sole aviator called from a different circumstance, as opposed to the other aviators who usually violate the hard deck rules, was your limit.

''I don't know what's wrong with you, but you suddenly lost control of your plane up there, which was pretty dangerous for you and your other pals. Pull yourself together, lieutenant, or you're out of here.''

With these comments echoing in your ears, you felt despairing about the positive things the day might offer you.You've never felt more powerless, out of control, and out of your comfort zone in your life, and you've never felt more unfamiliar with your own existence, steadily losing your own confidence and trust in yourself. As you entered the quarters hallway, you heard some of your peers whistling about what had happened earlier that day. You took a deep breath, already filled with hate, anger, and despair, and hurried your pace, still attempting to fill your lungs with pure air without breaking down.

When you finally made it to your room, which was luckily silent and empty because the last thing you wanted to hear was a conversation about "the trust you have in yourself, breath exercises, and thinking clearly.'' You ripped off your uniform and hurled it as far as you could in the room, you weren't attempting to keep from crying anymore while wearing your panty shorts and hoodie, your tears were uncontrollably running down your cheeks.

"Hey (Y/N)sleepy head, we're heading to the beach, are you coming?"

You awoke to a familiar sound ringing in your ears; at first, you could only open one of your eyes to acclimate to the light.

"How many hours have I slept?" you asked, without even attempting to answer her previous question.

"I don't know, I didn't keep a timer," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

"Perhaps four hours from now?

"Four hours, you thought, felt like a fucking futile ten-minute nap."

"You know,' you muttered before resuming your conversation, massaging your eyes as your back rested against the headboard. "All of that happened today -

''Yes they were real (Y/N).''She said while looking at your swollen eyes and lips.

"But tomorrow is going to be so good that you won't remember any of those things, and you'll also be able to demonstrate how truly talented you are and-"

You cut her off before she finished her statement you were plucking the sides of your nail as your lips turned down in disappointment.

"I am terminated from all flights this week (Y/F/N) don't even bother to tell me that I am a literal failure."

"Oh, I had no idea."

She murmured after nearly ten seconds of waiting, reached for your hand to rub it.

"It's fine, but I want to remain in tonight since I'm not having the best one."

You tried to grin while glancing at her hand which was caressing the back of your hand.

"Yes, absolutely.''She said before getting up from your bed.She took her jacket before asking you if you want her to turn the lights down.

''Yes,thank you(Y/F/N).

''Anytime.''

Instead of sleeping, your mind wandered, your pillow started to feel like it was made of iron, your eyes started to ache, and your palms started to sweat. You decided to get out of bed and take a walk around the base to get some fresh air at this point. You didn't take off your sweater and shorts before leaving the room,only put on a jacket. Corridors were silent and almost dark, and they were probably just cleaned because the scent of newly mopped floor pervaded the passage.

When you finally got out, the first thing you did was to take a long whiff of the beautiful air and gently release it. To be honest,you felt much more alive, so you didn't regret getting out of bed.As you drew closer to the beach, you noticed your pals reclining on the sand, laughing while playing charade.You didn't want to disrupt their game and you were also feeling nervous and horrible about the way you flew and the comments your instructor used against you in front of them, So you decided to keep walking, because you had skipped dinner due of your crying and sleeping session, your stomach was growling like a literal wolf. You thanked God that there were no aviators nearby to hear that unavoidably loud noise, and you didn't need another source of humiliation. You opted to get some crackers and snickers from the vending machine which was placed in the students' waiting area, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket you made your way to the room,climbed the stairs swiftly passed by one or two sentry lieutenants who were watching the corridors and finally entered the room which was unluckily having a group of Top Gun students who were resting on the leather couches of the room,one of them cleared his throat while you were inserting a coin in the machine.

''You did some niiiice flying up there (Y/C/S).''He said, made some of the others laugh.You took a deep breath before turning your face to him.Jake Seresin.Almost the king of the sky, callsign Hangman because he hangs you out to dry.

''I appreciate your candor Seresin.''You managed to say, not in an attempt to fight back because dear god you already were fighting with yourself non-stop and you just couldn't find that energy to bite him or anyone back about the way you fly.

''Oh,he said before coming closer to you in the room.''You don't wanna do this at all aren't you?''

''And why this bothers you so much Seresin?''You said while facing him, your eyes were looking at him tiredly but full with anger.

''Because,he said before tapping you on your shoulder.I don't think you should be here.''And gave you that million dollar smirk of his.

''And your thought changes what Bagman?''You said this time a little bit angrily not even blinking an eye.

''Maybe the way you fly huh?You are apparently the weakest link here.''

''Now you stop Seresin,you are being too much.''Another familiar sound said.You didn't really want to cry in front of anyone in that room but you felt your eyes getting wet with his last words and you didn't find the want inside you to tell him an another word, instead you threw one of your snickers at his face and left the room taking quick and deep breaths while trying to hide your urge to scream a big 'FUUUUCCCCCCKKK''.

As you drew closer to your room, your ears burning with anger and disappointment you heard someone calling your callsign behind you one or two times, at first you weren't sure if they were calling for you but after the second yell you turned your face behind to take a look at the owner of that solid voice.

''(Y/C/S)''Jeez,hey.''

Bradley''Rooster'' Bradshaw, the second best after Hangman-people were saying-was in his final week of the program and was graduating the following Monday, and there was a big question in everyone's mind whether he would win the Top Gun trophy.

And you never thought you'd be able to see him from this close.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you replied, wiping the tears from your cheeks without looking him in the eyes.

"Here you dropped this," he remarked, approaching you to hand you the snickers you just tossed at Seresin's face.

"That was a beautiful shot, though," he replied this time, beaming beneath his mustache.

"Thank you.'

You said, looking him in the eyes with your crimson eyes and a light smile on your lips.

''No,thank you or he would never you know.''He said,

"Lieutenants, you are not permitted to talk this loudly in the hallways. Go to bed or simply leave." One of the sentry lieutenants suggested stopping Rooster before the end of his sentence.

"So, you want to take a walk around, you know-"He continued as you gently descended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

"Ah, sure."

You sniffled your nose as you smiled at his request.

When you were finally out, the mild summer wind was all over your face. Rooster was taking slow steps on the stone path, and you kept it quiet for a long until he decided to talk.

''Well he didn't make you cry did he?''He said turning his face to you on the path to the beach, he was in one of his signature Hawaiian shirt's and his dogtag was hanging around his neck.

''No I mean everything happened today was too much for me to handle so I am just having a crisis you know.''You said watching your shoes while taking steps beside him.

"'I'm sorry, I heard what happened, but it's not important you know things like these happen, so don't be too hard on yourself." He said before offering you a soothing, melting smile.

''You probably weren't almost about to crash navy's highly costly fighter plane.''You said while looking him in the eyes daringly to show how serious the situation was and your voice was apparently showing off your disappointment.

'Oh, he said before breaking out laughing, Wow.' But he made you feel much better about the situation by laughing or thinking it was funnier than it was disappointing, so you put on a nice smile.

"And I'm not sure, but I don't think I belong here either." You mentioned this after clearing your throat after your laughing session.You were taking unsteady steps on the beach, passing The Hard Deck and hearing laughter and music.

"And what made you think that?" You made it here, you graduated, applied, and were accepted; you are no different from me Hangman or anybody else you know; it is quite unfair for you to believe otherwise.''He said in a solid tone before reaching for your hand.

''You shouldn't let people decide or talk instead of you (Y/C/S),you are as good as them and even better if you ever decide to trust yourself.''

While looking at him, your mouth curved into a smile that you thought you'd never experience again.

''Well I sounded too fucking miserable and I am sorry about that.''You said before letting out a little laugh.You took the front pieces of your hair and tucked them behind your ears with your free hand,you squeezed Rooster's hand before looking at him with a nice smile on your lips once again.

''You are a literal hero it's no surprise that the first week girls are crushing on you so hard.''

''Ah that's not the point now honey'' he said while rolling his eyes at you.He got closer to you on the sand before holding you from your cheeks.

''Tell me you belong here now or I'll push you into the sea.''

He was forcing you to look at him while his hands were locked on your cheeks.

''Ugh what's wi-''

''Tell that you are belong at Top Gun lieutenant.''He said before putting his hands on your shoulder to shake you.

''I belong here.''You said trying not to laugh.

''I BELONG AT TOP GUN.''He repeated while trying to hide his grin.

''I belong at Top Gun.''

''LOUDER LIEUTENANT.''

''I BELONG AT TOP GUN.''You managed to say before literally bursting into the best laughter of the last two weeks,Rooster wrapped his one arm around your neck and pulled you into his chest while laughing.

''Now I'll drink to that .''He said leading his steps to The Hard Deck after making you follow him.

''I'll get to choose the drink tho.''

''Mehhh,not so cool of you now.''

#rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster fluff #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #rooster x y/n #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #top gun rooster #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw #top gun movie

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tarydarrington · 3 years

Text

"Alright, everyone," Veth says with authority, and everyone else quiets down. "Tomorrow is the big day."

Caleb sighs and ducks behind his drink. There is a speech coming. This is exactly the sort of ceremony he had hoped to avoid by having this get-together at his home rather than the bar Veth had suggested. It's only five of them, tonight; Beauregard and Yasha are always in town, and Veth had insisted on coming. And Essek, of course. He's not sure when the elf's presence at his side became an of course, but in a careful way, he likes it.

“As the person in this world who cares the most about Caleb--”

Essek silently quirks an eyebrow at that, and it doesn’t get past Veth.

“Alright, come on, just because you got him into bed and I didn’t doesn’t mean--”

Caleb clears his throat loudly, and Veth’s smile snaps back into place.

“As Caleb’s oldest, dearest, truest friend,” she says, and Essek manages to look dignified even while rolling his eyes, “it is my humble duty to tell you all how amazing he is on this momentous occasion.”

“You know, I am starting a new job, not getting married,” Caleb murmurs in her direction.

“And we’re all very proud of you!” Veth replies.

Caleb takes a long drink as the others chime in with agreement. Yasha shoots him a sympathetic look, and he returns a tight smile.

“Come on, man,” Beau says from where she leans against the table, “aren’t you excited, at all?”

He takes a long breath. Excited is a word for it. Ready to vomit at a moment’s notice is perhaps more accurate. The Soltryce Academy is tricky. He’s been back there a few times in recent weeks, for interviews and preparation, and each time, it’s felt like walking through a dream of a place the mind could not quite capture properly.

For whatever purpose, Trent has always wanted Caleb - Bren - to follow in his footsteps. Those footsteps feel a touch too literal in those hallways.

“Caleb?” Beau’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “You still with us?”

He shakes his head. "Ja. Entschuldigung. There is a lot to think about."

Veth lowers her glass, frowning. "Nobody threatened you, did they? Because I'll have words with them."

"No, nothing like that." Not lately, anyway. He sets his own drink down on the table. "Just a bit worried, perhaps."

"Worried about what?" Beau asks flatly.

Caleb lets out a long breath, looking down at the floor. Where to begin? He’s worried that everything will go wrong. Worried that he’ll turn up with his clothes on backwards, or spill coffee down the front of his shirt, or trip over his words before the lesson even starts. Worried, most of all, about what comes after.

“I hope that I will not…” He searches for the right words. “I hope that I will be able to serve my students well enough,” he settles on. “The examples I have had were, ah….” Trent Ikithon is not one he wishes to emulate.

Essek frowns. “Carve your own path,” he says. “Someone as brilliant as you are needs no one to emulate.”

“Ja, well, that is fine for throwing together a spell or two, but I imagine the students will need a little more structure.” These are young minds. Any mistakes he makes will stick with them. He, of all people, knows just how much.

“Maybe you could ask them what they want from you,” Yasha pipes up. “You know, make sure you’re doing alright.”

Caleb lets out a long sigh. “Ja, maybe. That is a good idea.” Of course, it also requires that the students in question trust him enough to give him a straight answer.

They sit in relative silence for a moment, working away at their drinks. He hopes Veth doesn’t resent him for stepping on the atmosphere.

“Seriously, man, you’re gonna be great.” Beau knocks back the rest of her drink. “You’re already the best professor I’ve ever known.”

“I do not think the owl counts as a point of comparison,” Caleb deadpans. “Regardless, I will settle for not making a fool of myself for a first impression. That will be difficult enough.”

Beau shrugs, and reaches over to refill her glass. There’s a devious look in her eye that makes him nervous. "So why don't you practice?" she asks.

Caleb looks at her warily. "Practice?"

"Yeah, man." She gestures at the others. "Here's your class. Teach us something."

Before he can object, she’s already begun to pull an armchair toward the coffee table in the center of the room. Soon enough, three more seats have joined it, all on the same side. She throws her arms wide with a challenging grin.

“First day,” she says. “Don’t be late.” With that, she flops down onto the rightmost chair.

Transfixed in bemusement, Caleb watches as Yasha and Veth rush to occupy the next two seats in the makeshift classroom. The Expositor commands a room, it seems.

“Are you comfortable with this?” Essek murmurs as he brushes past as well. “I am willing to be the, ah... wet blanket, if need be.”

Caleb sighs, briefly twining their fingers together and squeezing once before letting him go. “Not comfortable, no, but it’s not a bad idea.”

Someone wolf whistles from the peanut gallery, and Caleb turns a fond glare on them all. All three of them are, of course, the picture of innocence. He shakes his head as Essek settles down primly in the last remaining chair. It’s not exactly the picture of an academic setting, with their glasses of half-finished booze still on the table in front of them and the lot of them draped over armchairs and ottomans.

“Alright,” says Beau, who has not even bothered to put her drink down. She makes a trilling sound that he thinks is probably meant to emulate a school bell. “Hit us.”

"We will be brutally honest," Veth promises. "Which means we will tell you honestly how perfect you are."

"Or if there's anything you could do better," Yasha adds.

Caleb stares back at them. It’s nothing he hasn’t gone over in his own head a hundred times. Even once or twice, to a captive audience of cats. It’s a short class. It will be over before he knows it.

The others look up at him expectantly. Watching him. Waiting. Caleb clears his throat.

"I, ah... feel a bit silly,” he admits.

Without a word, Essek waves a hand, and the familiar faces before him shift to those of strangers.

It’s almost embarrassing how much it helps. Caleb takes a deep breath and lets it out, running through the lesson plan in his head.

"Guten Morgen, class, I am, ah… Professor Widogast." It's the first time he's said that particular pair of words out loud.

"Whoo!" the student who is not Veth shouts.

"Yeah!" the student who is not Beau chimes in.

Caleb gives them a look and straightens his coat. "This is Introductory Transmutation, in room 142, so if you are all in the correct place--"

"Professor?" The student who is not Yasha raises her hand.

"Ah, ja, Miss…"

"Lionett."

Not-Beau slaps a hand over her own mouth and mutters, “Holy shit,” into it.

“Was that too much?” not-Yasha whispers.

“Babe, it was so hot,” not-Beau hisses back.

Caleb clears his throat. "Miss Lionett, do you have a question?"

Not-Yasha seems to suddenly remember her role, and she folds her hands in her lap. "No," she says, "I have to use the bathroom."

Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose as not-Beau bites back a giggle. “Ja, okay, go.”

“Don’t let her go!” not-Veth interjects. “She knew it was almost time for class; she should have gone earlier.”

“Dude, if she has to pee then she has to pee,” not-Beau protests.

Pointedly, not-Essek raises his hand.

Caleb lets himself sigh with relief. “Ja, Master…?”

“Gross, Professor, we don’t need to know about your weird sex dynamics,” not-Beau says.

Not-Essek’s face blooms red, and Caleb presses a hand to his face to hide the same. “You know very well, Beauregard, that it is an honorific.”

Not-Beau shrugs, looking very pleased with herself as she takes another sip of her drink. Not-Essek glares very polite daggers at her before clearing his throat.

“Thelyss,” he answers.

Beau cups both hands around her mouth and boos.

“No, it’s better that he’s honest,” Veth says. “We already know he’s a terrible actor.”

“Herr Thelyss,” Caleb says, raising his voice above the heckling. “Do you have a question?”

Essek leans forward, resting his elbows on the table in a gesture that’s much too endearing. “I wondered what you will be teaching us today, Professor Widogast.”

Caleb tries not to dwell on the way the title hits differently on Essek’s voice, instead straightening up and waving one hand behind him. An illusory chalkboard appears in the air behind him to polite applause from Veth and Yasha. Back on track.

“Well, this is your first day,” he says. “So I know that - Beauregard, please remove your feet from the table - I know that most of your other teachers will be spending time going over the material that you will be covering this semester, but, ah…” What is he meant to be doing with his hands? They feel limp if they’re at his sides, but too formal behind his back and too awkward in front of him. Perhaps he should have a lectern? Somewhere to rest them, or shuffle with papers?

His gaze drifts back to his “students,” who all blink back at him expectantly. Essek inclines his head as though to prompt him on. He clasps his hands in front of his chest, hoping it will do for now.

“Right,” he continues. “Ja, so I thought we would take a look at something more practical to start. We will leave the reading for tomorrow; you have enough of that today.”

He waves his hands again, and behind him, a set of runes and diagrams appears on the chalkboard. Above it is written the word Prestidigitation.

“So, ah, partner up,” he orders. “Introduce yourselves. If there is someone on their own, a group of three is perfectly acceptable.”

“I call Miss Lionett,” Beau shouts, grabbing Yasha’s hand.

“Can I go to the bathroom, first?” Yasha asks.

Caleb gives her an incredulous look.

“I really do need to go,” she says.

He gestures towards the hallway, and she shuffles off. In the meantime, Veth and Essek scoot their chairs closer together. Caleb’s gaze lingers questioningly on Beau, who shakes her head.

“She’s not learning anything tonight, man. Go ahead.”

“Ja, okay,” he says distantly.

It feels silly, explaining the spell to this motley crew. Beau has leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes glassy, clearly not paying an ounce of attention. Essek has produced a piece of paper upon which Veth occasionally scribbles, though the way he periodically nods approval at Caleb’s points betrays his own prior knowledge of the subject. After a few minutes, Yasha returns and attempts to take down notes of her own.

“Is everyone following along?” he asks after a while, knowing it’s a futile question.

“Yep,” Beau lies.

“Hmm.” Yasha hums.

“Perfectly,” Essek says.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie,” Veth confirms with a wink.

He continues, running them through the various applications one by one. Beau gives him an occasional “uh huh” that he believes not one bit. At one point, he catches Essek take a passing glance at Veth’s paper, widen his eyes, and lean forward to murmur something to her. He isn’t sure he wants to know what that’s about.

“Let’s keep focused, please, everyone,” he reminds them.

Essek waves a hand to signal him to continue. Nothing too scandalous, then. He goes through the final few points, then comes to stop in front of the chalkboard, hands awkwardly clasped again.

“Okay, that is it,” he says. “You have as much time as you require to finish the spell, and when you are finished, I would like one person from each group to demonstrate.”

He gives the others a questioning look. It’s one of the points he’s most worried about. A way to take pressure off some of the slower students could just as easily be a way to unintentionally foster competition and resentment. But none of them objects, so he gives them another nod.

“I suppose we should skip the demonstration portion,” he mumbles.

“I can do it,” Yasha chirps. Without warning, she swings the massive greatsword from her back and sinks the tip into the table, making the others jump. “I made a small mark.”

Caleb covers his eyes with one hand. “Ja, will it go away in one hour?”

Yasha silently places her drink down over the indentation. Caleb sighs. It isn’t as though he has very many guests, anyway.

“I can probably swing producing an odor, for you,” Beau offers. “But I figure you probably don’t want that.”

He ignores her, and instead gives Essek a tight smile.

“Well, would my second group care to demonstrate?”

Beau jerks a thumb in Essek’s direction and fake-coughs to Yasha, “Teacher’s pet.”

Essek ignores her and sits back, fingers working in those little patterns he draws when something has piqued his curiosity. “I believe so,” he says, and nods to Veth.

Caleb raises his eyebrows as all eyes turn to Veth. Though Essek had the courtesy to leave her a halfling, her features and coloring are entirely different - but that wide smile as she stands and rubs both hands together would give her away, no matter the face it was set in. And as Beau swears under her breath, Yasha and Caleb look on wide-eyed, and Essek watches with a smirk, she pulls her hands apart to let loose a shower of sparks.

“You… learned the spell,” Caleb says numbly. He hadn’t imagined any of them were actually paying attention.

“It was an excellent lesson!” Veth replies.

As she takes her seat again, Beau and Yasha give her a smattering of stunned applause. Essek clears his throat pointedly.

“And I guess, maybe, Essek gave me one pointer,” Veth amends with an eye-roll.

“Hey, so your partner system worked,” Yasha points out.

It had. The lesson had worked, the procedure had worked - his teaching had worked. There’s still a little voice in his head reminding him that Veth is brilliant, and an adult, and perfectly capable of learning things like this without even so much as his help - but he can’t deny that it’s his guidance that taught her this particular spell. ‘An excellent lesson,’ Veth had said. In this moment, he’s inclined to believe it might be half true. Caleb realizes very suddenly that he’s beaming.

With a snap of his fingers, Essek dispels the disguises. The soft smile on his face - his real face, and Caleb always misses it dearly when it’s hidden - says he hasn’t failed to notice Caleb’s relief.

“Danke, all of you,” he says sheepishly, waving a hand to vanish the chalkboard.

“Thank you!” Veth says. “For the shiny new spell and for the masterclass in professoring.”

“You were really good,” Yasha agrees. “I’m, uh... I’m sorry about the table.”

He dips his head to hide the way his face is flushing. They exaggerate, the lot of them. But there is something to be said for having friends who will say such things. “Ja, well,” he says, “I am not convinced it will translate to an actual class, but I will hope.”

Beau takes another swig of her drink, wiping her mouth afterwards. “Dude, we were the worst and you still managed to teach somebody something,” she says. “Those kids have nothing on us. You got this.”

He offers her a smile, retrieving his glass from the table as Yasha, Veth, and Essek do the same. He hopes it’s true. He hopes that, separate entirely from his ability to teach them the how of magic, he will be able to keep them safe. That he will be able to keep from passing on any damage he received in his own time in those halls.

He catches Essek’s eye, and the knowing look there puts some of the anxious buzzing to rest. He will be better. He will struggle, most likely. He will stumble, inevitably. But he will give better than he got. He’s been practicing that part for years.

“To Professor Widogast!” Veth shouts, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Professor Widogast,” the others echo, and Caleb smiles.

“To my very good friends,” he replies.

“To the hottest professor the Soltryce Academy has ever seen,” Veth shouts in response, and Caleb nearly chokes on his drink when Essek casually clinks his glass against hers with a nod.

They drink together. Caleb thinks, just a little bit, he might be excited.

thanks @peregrintook for reading this over and telling me it wasn't the worst thing i had ever written (in much more generous words than that), and @saturdaysky for catching me red-handed last time i deleted it and being so kind about it 💜

#okay here's the strategy. i posted a ficlet i'm happy with last week and i finished another one i'm happy with yesterday #so if i sandwich this in between the two surely i will not believe i am entirely worthless as a writer because of it #...probably #queueing it to post when i'm not home to physically wrench my hand away from the delete post button #shadowgast #background beauyasha #caleb widogast #mine #mine:fic #caleb #essek #veth #beau #yasha

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f1united · 3 years

Text

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time.

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments.

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head.

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet.

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?"

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying.

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note.

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far?

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level.

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips.

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss.

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

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k-s-morgan · 3 years

Text

Hi! My Internet gradually stops working well, but I’m still fine and my family is still safe. As always, I can’t tell you all how much I appreciate all the kinds words, messages, financial and emotional support you’ve given me. The fact that the world has so many wonderful and compassionate people is one of my comfort thoughts at a time like this, where there is so much grief and fear wherever you go.

I’m once again at the stage where I feel rather optimistic. I don’t think this war will last long. Both Ukrainian and Russian news (and I’m sure plenty of foreign news) are distorting the truth in completely opposite ways, to the point where it’s difficult to say which of them is closer to being objective, but facts remain facts, and they help make some conclusions. I’m hopeful that my home will remain a safe harbor for me and my family. It’s possible that Russian troops might use one of the roads nearby to make their way into the city, but even that is far enough, and they won’t be interested in this location much, there is really nothing of importance here.

Many of the shops nearby are working, and with the help of those who contributed to my Patreon, my Mom and I keep buying more food, water, meds, and pet food. Today we volunteered to look after a pet shop - the owner has fled and told shop assistants to leave all the animals to die. Since the assistants want to leave Kiev, too, they tried to find someone who could come inside and feed the pets daily. We live close by, so we said we can do it.

I’ve started writing short semi-fictional stories that play well into my mood. Maybe I’ll make it into a book at some point. I miss my fandoms and my fics, and I hope I’ll be able to get back to them very soon. It’s just so difficult to enjoy something when fear and worry became a constant part of my life. On good days like this one, I manage to distract myself for some time, but even that doesn’t last long, and before I know it, I’m back to reading the news, trying to separate lies from truths.

Answering questions from some asks: I’m a born Ukrainian, but Russian is my first language, just like it is for the majority of our population (if you count Crimea). So I tend to spell “Kiev” like this instead of using the Ukrainian version of “Kyiv.” Leaving without any of my family members and all of my pets is not something I can consider right now. I love them so much, they are my world. I’m not sure I can envision life without them. We all have a very close, maybe even obsessive relationship with each other, and the idea of separation is a nightmare. Also, like I mentioned before, there are many risks involved with the trip itself.

That said, if things get really, really bad here, I might take this risk. For now, staying seems safer and better than escaping, but it might change. I still can’t imagine leaving my loved ones, but if it comes to surviving or staying with them... maybe I’ll choose the former. I don’t know yet, I can’t bear thinking about it.

I want to stay as optimistic as I am today. Also, sorry for not replying to asks individually: I want to keep records of my own posts for later, and this format is more convenient for me. I also don’t want to clutter people’s dashboards with posts that I never thought I would be making on this site.

Thank you again, each of you. Here are two selfies I took with one of my cats and one of my pigeons today. I’m praying that we all stay safe tonight and tomorrow.

#personal #ukraine #kiev

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opalesense · 4 years

Text

you asked for it

kaeya & f!reader [NSFW]

4.2k words • ~30 min. read

summary: after a frustrating and touch starved week, kaeya catches you playing with yourself despite promising you wouldn’t while he was gone. needless to say, he is not happy.

warnings: sadist kaeya, lots of degradation, choking, bondage, spanking, belt whipping, facefucking

notes: i’m so embarrassed to post this because i’ve never written a full nsfw thing before hahahhddhdhd anyway i’m going to hell... also if you can spot canon voice lines i’ll give you a smooch

"I’M HOME, PRINCESS!"

Kaeya's alluring voice marked his distant presence outside the bedroom door. The sound of the front door closing behind him made me jump and snapped me out of my daydreaming state. I could hear him taking off his shoes and putting his bags down on the dining table, the sounds of his coat shuffling off his body and onto the coat rack making my thoughts race even faster.

He's home already? I thought he was coming home tomorrow!

"Our new recruits did so well in training that Jean let me off a day early. They don't need anything else from me for now," he said, as if he were reading the questions that bubbled in my head. "Can you believe it? I hardly ever get a break. I guess today is truly my lucky day."

Panic began to bubble in my stomach now as I heard his footsteps quickly advancing towards me, giving me no time to cover up the sticky situation I put myself in.

Literally, a sticky situation.

I had been spending the last half hour curing my loneliness in bed, using my hands to replace the pleasure I was missing so badly from Kaeya. His sudden return home made me curse under my breath. I was so close to a release too.

I quickly pulled my fingers away and sprung up from the bed, rushing to the dresser to find some clothes to throw on. But as soon as I pulled the nearest shirt over my head, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing the handsome figure standing and immediately pinning his eyes at me.

"Hi, Kaeya!" I turned and took a few steps towards him, immediately wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my head in his chest. He smelled like sweat and hard work. "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

"[Y/N]," Kaeya placed cold hands on my lower back to return the hug and gave me a sweet smile, "what were you doing just now, cutie?"

"I was just about to take a bath," I quickly lied and cupped his face with my dry hand to give him a peck on the cheek. "Care to join me?"

His expression suddenly changed from gentle and loving to unimpressed. He could see through my lie – I could tell. He was always so good at spotting my lies. His blank eyes pierced through mine, sending a shiver down my spine. Or maybe that was his hands slowly freezing up my skin with his vision, the annoyance easily seeping through his sharp stare.

"Are you sure, princess?" he reached to grab my other hand and lifted it up to his face, licking my wet fingers without breaking eye contact. He let out a deep growl at the taste, his eyes turning more dangerous by the second. Any hopes of me escaping this lie were completely gone now. "It doesn't seem like you were... 'just about to take a bath.'"

"Kaeya..." my body quivered at his strong grip on my hand, "Listen, I’m so sorry, I was just so lonely without you–"

His face inched closer to mine as he slowly walked both of us to the edge of the bed. "You couldn't wait for a week?" his sharp voice tickled my ears, "I specifically told you to wait for me, didn't I? You even promised me you would."

"Y-yes, I did promise," we stood at the foot of the bed, my naked hips desperately pressed into his. "I’m so sorry–"

"Yeah, you’re 'so sorry,'" he mocked me and rolled his eyes with a smirk. "You better be sorry, sweetheart. I missed you too, but at least I kept up my end of the promise and didn't touch myself while I was gone, unlike some slut I know," he hissed.

Suddenly, he wrapped his other hand around my neck and began applying pressure, pinning me down into the mattress. His clothed knee spread my legs open and pressed against my sensitive clit, driving more shivers up my spine and triggering a moan from my throat that only came out as a weak whimper. His face leaned down to mine to give me slow, gentle kisses. "My slut," he whispered between kisses, squeezing my throat harder, "I can’t believe I’m in love with a stupid disobedient bitch."

The insults only made my core light up with satisfaction. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his touch, forgetting about all the consequences I knew he would lay out for me in a few moments. I could tell he missed me just as much as I missed him with how gentle and loving his kisses were in contrast to his hand suffocating me. We kissed as if this was our last time ever seeing each other, as if the world was going to end in one minute. My heart thumped with excitement as the realization that he was finally back home began to settle in.

He released my poor throat and instead ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp and deepening the kiss. His lips began moving with a purpose, groans escaping and movements getting more and more desperate. "[Y/N]," he muttered into my own lips, "I missed you so much, princess. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this."

He slowly separated his face from mine and nuzzled his head into my neck, biting and suckling my already bruised skin from all the other love marks he had given me last week as a memento before he left. "I’m not going easy on you after this, sweetheart. Savor my mercy while it lasts."

I grew restless after a few minutes of him licking and nibbling at my neck and started to grind my hips on his knee, wanting some kind of advancement in this hazy evening. He took notice of this and paused his kisses, lifting his eyes to meet mine. I pleaded for more action with a pout, to which he replied by removing his knee and instead tucking his thighs below mine with my legs pinned at his sides. I let out a shaky exhale at the realization that his bulge was mere inches away from my holes.

"What's the hurry, princess?" he leaned down to run his hands up my sides, dragging my loosely fitted shirt along with him. "Is there something you're waiting for?"

He pulled the shirt up enough to expose my anticipating breasts, perked with excitement at his chilled fingers. I gasped at the bite of the cold air he was manifesting. "Kaeya, please..."

“Please what?" he traced a finger on the underside of my breasts and planted more kisses across my collarbone, "Use your words, baby.”

"Stop teasing me, please," I begged with shame, "You know I want you... I need you inside of me..."

He hummed as if he were processing my answer. Instead of using his own words, he responded by completely pulling the shirt off of me and twisting it into a long strip. He grabbed both of my hands and pinned them above my head, purposefully pressing his bulge against my aching hole. He hesitated to look down at me, his eyes becoming consumed with pure lust.

"Final warning, [Y/N]. Do you want to do this now?" Any remaining gentleness seemed to slowly spill out of his voice as he made it apparent he was asking for my consent. My core lit up once more knowing we were just getting started.

I trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear, not knowing what he had under his sleeve tonight after the touch deprived days that broke our usually consistent sex streak. We were two lovers in desperate need of pleasure. "I need to be fucked senseless," my voice shakily begged, "I need to be covered in your cum by sunrise, sir."

He raised his eyebrows at the vulgar language that spewed out of my mouth, knowing how uncharacteristic it was for me to beg before we've begun. Judging by the evil smirk that formed on his face, those two simple sentences were enough to send him over the edge and into complete darkness. An evil chuckle escaped his lips. The glint in his eyes that was once loving and sweet became borderline malicious within seconds.

"Safeword?" he breathily muttered with a grin.

"Diluc," I sarcastically sneered at him, knowing how much he hated when I used his brother's name as a safeword, even if it was just a joke. His hand quickly struck me across the face, catching me by surprise. The sting made my eyes swell with small tears.

"Fucking brat, always messing around with me," he chuckled. "But you know, I could always arrange something for the three of us–"

"Kaeya!" I interrupted him and he laughed at my flustered face. We had been joking about a threesome for quite some time now. At least... I was joking about it. Maybe he seriously meant it.

He guided his hands to make me sit up then pinned my arms behind my back. "It’s just a suggestion," he grinned at the thought while tying my wrists together with my own shirt. "Oh, to see my little princess squirm with both her holes pounded crying with pleasure and pain... That would be quite the sight indeed, don't you think?"

“Please shut up,” I giggled, bucking my hips into his for an ounce of stimulation. He tightened the fabric around my wrists and tugged at it a few times to make sure it stayed in place. He gently laid me down again, enjoying the sight of my naked body fully exposed to him.

"Now for the fun part," he smiled.

He sat up to take his own shirt off and set it aside. My eyes widened at the sight of his toned torso, my mouth practically drooling as my gaze traced his muscular abdomen. His delectable skin glistened in the light of the fading sunset and I couldn't help but stare at his beautiful body. To my dismay, my staring was interrupted by his shirt being placed over my eyes as he blindfolded me, pausing the fantasies in my head that came with that delicious sight.

I felt Kaeya’s hands turn my vulnerable body so my chest pressed against the bed, my back arching to greet his face with my holes. He snickered at the sight of me being drenched as a result of him teasing me for the past ten or so minutes with kisses and cold fingers. All I could feel was his chilled breath tormenting my wetness and a hand caressing my inner thigh. "Seems like you're so eager to be touched despite ruining yourself with your own fingers.”

"Y-yes," I whimpered as one finger outlined my entrance, making me gasp. "More..."

He suddenly slapped my ass with his other hand, earning a yelp from my throat. "I’ll think about it after I punish you, cunt. Don't think I have forgotten about that."

He got off the bed to stand up and pulled my body closer to the edge of the mattress. "Now, count to fifty."

I hesitated. "Fifty? What do you mean–"

"Do I seriously need to repeat myself for your dumb whore brain?" he responded slowly and sternly as if he were spelling it out for me. "Count to fifty now before I leave you here and drink at the tavern tonight instead. You wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity to get fucked stupid by my fat cock tonight, would you?"

I paused again thinking about why he'd want me to count in this situation before shyly starting. "One–"

SLAP!

"Fuck!" I instinctively buried my face into the sheets as his hand stung my ass. That hurt way more than it should. That's why he wants me to count?

"If I hear anything out of that mouth other than numbers I will not hesitate to leave you here. No cursing, no gasping, no moaning. Do you understand? Now pull yourself together and count. Start from one again."

I quivered at the thought of him leaving me here after already being separated for a week. I suppose the pain I’ll soon endure is my punishment, after all. So with no hesitation, I obeyed what he told me to do.

"One..."

SLAP!

“T-two...!"

SLAP!

It hurt so bad and it had barely begun. “Three..."

SLAP!

“Pick up the pace, my little painslut. You can handle it."

"Four..."

SLAP!

“Five..."

SLAP!

"You're doing so well, princess."

Soon enough, we were nearing the end. I truly underestimated Kaeya's strength with each smack. Sometimes I forget that he's a Knight of Favonius, that he has a vision, and that he trains nearly every day to maintain his strength. His blows were hellish now in comparison to the first few counts, which were extremely gentle in hindsight. And he never hesitated with each slap, as if he wanted to do this to me for a long time.

“Forty eight..." I was a teary eyed mess at this point, trembling at the pain that stung like a million needles.

SLAP!

“Forty nine..." I whimpered, thinking about how i got myself into this situation, never being punished by him like this before.

SLAP!

“F-Fifty!"

SLAP!

I sobbed at the aching pain while he simply chuckled. He sat next to me and sighed contently. "How do you feel, princess?"

"P-please stop... no more..." I muttered incoherently as the pain didn't seem to fizz away.

"You have a safeword you know. But it would be a shame to stop now when we’ve only just begun," he caressed my bruised skin with care, making me flinch instinctively. I gulped.

No. I'm not going to stop here.

"Tell me how you feel, my love. Don't be shy."

I paused, struggling to come up with the right words when all my brain could focus on was the excruciating soreness. "I-it hurts s-so much..."

"I know, baby. But that's what you get for disobeying me. You’ve learned your lesson, I hope?"

"Yes, I-I've learned my lesson, sir," I breathily cried, "I w-won't ever do it again..."

Suddenly I felt his thumb caress my wetness, eliciting a gasp from my throat. "Oh? But it seems like you actually really enjoyed that," he played with my aching folds as I stifled my moans, not sure if I was allowed to make noise. "Well, princess... that's not what a punishment is for, don't you think?"

He pulled away his hand as he stood up which made me whine at the loss of touch. I heard him undo his belt, but once it was off, I didn't hear him unzip his pants like I had hoped for. Instead, I felt a leather strip gently trail down my thigh.

"Your skin isn't that pretty shade of purple I was hoping for either. In fact, if I had to take a guess, I would say it's red from pleasure instead of pain."

"Wait, Kaeya! No, please, it really does hurt...!" I weakly muttered as the realization settled in when he gently tapped my skin with the looped leather.

"I don't think you realize how long I've waited for a moment like this, baby," his gravely whisper struck a genuine fear into my stomach, "A moment when you'd slip up so I'd have an excuse to make you quiver in pain. You've been such a good girl for so long that I've never had a moment where I can make you beg for my forgiveness. Which, as a matter of fact, there hasn't been a single moment so far where you've begged. I assume you haven't actually learned your lesson yet."

He brought his hand up to prepare for a blow. "I'm going to brand you. I'm going to make your skin raw until I feel tired. And I can last all night and all day, baby. You know that."

He whipped the belt down to meet my thigh, creating a new kind of pain that made me cry out in desperation. This was a new side of Kaeya that I have never seen before. A new darkness had consumed him so suddenly that I sat on the fence of being terrified and being turned on at the same time.

And this was still only the beginning.

"Convince me to forgive you or bleed. Your choice."

He immediately whipped me at a quick, consistent rhythm, paying more attention to my thighs in addition to my already bruised ass. At times the belt would land on my holes, which made me twitch with excitement and agony at the same time. This isn’t like him. Why is he doing this to me?

"K-Kaeya, please stop!" I moaned out after a few hits, "P-please stop, I'm begging you!"

“Try again, slut."

More hits landed with sharp hisses sizzling off of my skin. "K-Kaeya, I'm so sorry! P-please forgive me–"

“I don't even know what you're apologizing for," he interrupted with that damned teasing tone of his, "Could you remind me again?"

The blows got stronger, more urgent and unforgiving, hitting any inch of exposed skin even if it was already raw. "I-I'm so sorry for disobeying you... I'm sorry for t-touching myself without your permission...! P-please stop, I just want you inside of me–"

He paused the hits to emphasize his words, which were muttered through gritted teeth. "I don't give a single fuck about what you want, whore. You’re just a toy for my amusement and somehow you still managed to fuck up."

He quickly resumed the stings. "I'll be a g-good girl from now on! P-please... Please just forgive me! K-Kaeya!" my voice slowly raised in volume in cries for the pain to stop.

"Dumb whore. It’s funny that you think I believe you."

“Y-yes, I’m a dumb whore!" I scrambled for words and just copied his. There was no use in begging anymore. A part of me hoped I would be beat to unconsciousness under him just to relieve myself of this pain momentarily.

He let out a groan and a low maniacal laughter, "Seeing your veins under my belt makes my cock twitch, princess. I'm not sure if I want to stop, even if you kept asking me to."

I couldn't take it anymore. The pain hurt so bad but as fucked up as it was, I was still so unbelievably aroused by him. The thought of him getting so aroused by me pulled out some kind of satisfaction within, despite the borderline torture I was experiencing. Maybe he was so comfortable with hitting me because he saw my body as just another criminal to interrogate and punish. Maybe he was releasing pent up frustration on me. Why is all of this so arousing?

I felt my core light up as my thighs squeezed together. For a moment, I forgot about the pain and a wave of pleasure washed over my body, sending twitches through the nerves in my legs. "K-Kaeya, actually p-please stop, I think I'm gonna c-cum...!"

He disappointedly cursed under his breath and let me feel one last blow for good measure before letting go of his grip on the belt and tossing it onto the bed. “Fine. That’s enough for now.”

He climbed over my curled up body so his bulge pressed against my tied hands near my tailbone, my head trapped between his hands on the mattress. He stayed hovering over me, slowly panting.

"I don't have enough words to describe how much you're turning me on right now," Kaeya began to slowly whisper. I could feel how hard he was by how he nestled himself into my tied hands. "Your body shaking under mine, shaking in pain and pleasure... And to think you were going to cum by my belt alone... You really are a slut, [Y/N]."

"K-Kaeya, I'm your slut... and I need your cock in me now," I weakly interrupted him, "I n-need to be fucked... right now, please, I'm begging you..."

He stayed there for a moment, taking in the sight of my helplessness before standing up at the edge of the bed again. He guided my shaking torso up to finally flip me on my back, pulling me closer so my head hung over the edge. My lower half felt so relieved to finally make contact with the soft sheets, which were slightly damp from sweat and possibly my own wetness. I felt him wrap the belt around my neck, letting the loop gently tighten around my throat as he tugged. I couldn't help but be reminded that he could kill me here if he really wanted to. I was completely surrendered to him.

I heard him finally take off his pants with the other leg, the scent of his sweaty skin tickling my nose. I have never longed to get this stupid blindfold off and lay my eyes on his figure already. It had been so long since we’ve seen each other and now that he’s here I couldn’t even fully appreciate the sight of him. Nevertheless, I felt the shadow of his cock drape over my face and let out an exhale before he tugged the belt to catch my attention.

“Don't make me tell you what to do."

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out eagerly which earned a chuckle from him. He slowly pressed the tip of his cock into my awaiting throat, groaning loudly in the process. he was surprisingly gentle about making sure I wouldn't choke immediately. "F-fuck yes, [Y/N]... taking all of it in like a good slut..."

As soon as his long member hit the back of my throat, he tugged the belt tightly and groaned deeper. My throat spasmed at the suffocating sensation which he responded to by pulling tighter. I tried my best to relax. "Behave," he reminded me.

He began fucking my throat with no mercy, gradually quickening his pace but never pulling out or pausing to let me catch my breath. He had trained my throat over the past few months for this, but the belt added a whole other level of difficulty and torment. The muscles of my throat tightening around him more than usual made him breathlessly curse and praise me. "Such a good slut... My whore is doing so well taking my big cock...”

He eventually let go of the belt to place both of his hands on either side of my face and fuck my mouth senselessly, ignoring my sputtering and cries for help at the suffocation. It felt like I was drowning, but all I could think about was how good it felt to pleasure him, to hear his grunts and sighs of relief. His praises were consistent, a stark contrast to the way he degraded and pummeled me into the ground like a prisoner. Before I nearly passed out at the cut off oxygen, all his pent up frustration over the past week suddenly flooded my throat as his warm fluid was dumped into my mouth, deep groans and heavy breaths filling up the room. His breath stuttered as I swallowed each pump of cum he fed me with hazy eyes, somehow enjoying this moment despite suffocating as he used his thumb to caress my face. Kaeya placed a hand on the bed and pulled his hips away from my hanging head, leaning over my body and keeping only the tip of his cock inside my mouth. I coughed and sputtered for a moment before pulling myself together to swirl my tongue over his tip, inciting a few twitches and extra drops of cum as a reward. Tears and saliva painted my face, but at last, I finally caught a moment to breathe.

"Keep licking and I might immediately cum again," Kaeya chuckled, cooling down from the heat of the moment.

"I wouldn't complain," I playfully responded, letting out small coughs to clear my throat.

"I suppose that's enough punishment for today," he gently lifted my head back up on the bed to provide better airflow. He untied the blindfold off of my face so I could finally see him again.

"Hi, handsome," I grinned, saliva dripping down my cheeks and into my hair. He ran his fingers through my hair and began massaging my scalp.

"God... you are so inexplicably beautiful right now," he whispered desperately. He began slowly stroking his cock in front of my face and deepened the massage, a proud yet cunning grin stretching across his face. "But you'd look even more beautiful with my cum dripping out of your cunt, don’t you agree?"

I moaned out his name and slowly lifted my knees up to my chest, teasingly using my hands to pull my thighs apart as an invitation. My eyes stayed locked with his. "Punishment's over, right?"

He silently agreed, releasing his cock from his grip and taking another moment to catch his breath. I watched him with pure lust in my eyes as he positioned himself at the crevice of the pillows in front of me then pulled my body forward to sit in his lap. His sensitive cock twitched as the tip of his shaft kissed my dripping hole, aching to rearrange my insides. He used one hand to pull himself down and shower my shoulder with bites and kisses, the other hand reaching down to massage my wet cunt, preparing for the night ahead.

"My beautiful, stunning slut..." he growled into my ear between kisses, "I can't wait to see you completely destroyed by sunrise. You asked for it, after all."

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #genshin impact x reader

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