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daddykylokenobi · 2 years ago

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Kylo Ren x Y/N Chapter 5

Warnings-recollection of difficult memories, mentioned violence, fluff, some angst, soft romance, kissing, angry kylo then happy kylo. (This chapter was much shorter than the ones before srrrrry!!)

Y/n sat idly in her white walled room, staring out the window of the ship out at the vast sea of space and stars. It had been 2 days since the “incident” on Takodana, soon as word had been sent back to the General about what happened Y/n, Kylo and Farron had all been picked up the next day and were on their way back to the base for debriefing and as the General liked to call it “some time to cool off.” But Y/n wasn’t angry, she was scared by what happened, scared that by complete accident she used the Force to hurt someone.

There was a gentle knock on Y/n’s door, then a pressure release was heard as it opened, General Poe stood in the doorway. “Hey Y/n, sorry to interrupt I just wanted to on check on ya.” He entered the room and made his way to Y/n who was sitting in a lounge chair by the window.

“Oh it’s alright you aren’t interrupting anything..” Y/n had been quiet the past two days, she was avoiding anyone and everyone, especially Ben. “I’m doing okay though, how about you?” She faked niceties and gave Poe a small smile.

“I’m good, just got done talking with Farron and Ben, I just wanted to make sure we got everyone’s story straight before rumors start flying, you know how everyone can be and I just want to avoid any further issues.” His face was warm and gentle, he truly wanted to help make sure everything was handled well. “So if you don’t mind just kinda retracing your steps and telling me what happened that would help a lot.”

Y/n looked at Poe somberly but knew that she couldn’t get out of this. “Well.. It started in the supply bunker obviously, Farron had asked for my help and I obliged, I didn’t think he had ill intentions but obviously that all changed when we actually got in the bunker together. We had been working for a bit just organizing and whatever when he started asking some.. Personal questions.” Y/n looked away from the General and again stared out the window.

“What kind of questions?” Poe invited himself to sit in the chair beside Y/n.

“Uhm, well he asked if me and Ben were more than friends, I told him no which is the truth but he didn’t believe me, he began to get mad and he grabbed me.” She looked down at her lap, trying to push herself to relive the moment. “Farron has liked me for a long time but I’ve rejected him before, he started yelling about how he didn’t understand how I couldn’t give him a chance and would instead go for a m-murderer..” her voice got quiet as she said the words.

Poe listened intently, he had leaned forward onto his knees and was looking up at Y/n.

“Then he uh, started to shake me and yell in my face, I got scared I-I didn’t know what to do” her hands started to lightly tremble and she was gesturing around as she spoke. “And then it happened, I don’t know how or if I meant to but I pushed him back against the wall, it was hard w-way harder than I would’ve intended I just wanted him away from me, you have to understand.” She looked down at Poe with glossy eyes, her voice begging for understanding and forgiveness.

Poe rested his left palm on Y/n’s knee, “I understand completely, Ben told me about you and the Force, I was surprised to hear that Rey didn’t know but, -I’m just glad that you’re okay.” Poe had a way of making someone feel cared for, even through a gentle touch Y/n felt safe to share the story.

“Thank you..” she whispered. “Everything with Ben is.. it’s complicated right now but I haven’t spoken to him since It happened.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly trying to erase the thoughts running through her mind. “What has he said?” She asked.

“Oh not a whole lot, you know he isn’t one for long speeches” he chuckled trying to lighten the mood. “But uh, yeah his story fits pretty well with yours.” He nodded.

“And Farron..?”

“Well, that’s a different story there” he huffed while bringing his hands together.

“I assumed it would be, he’s healing up just fine though, the bruises will be gone in a few days and he’ll be good as new.” Poe then looked down away from Y/n’s gaze. “We are wanting to give you three some time off though.”

“What why?” Y/n asked quickly.

“It’s not anything bad I promise” he said raising his hand to stop Y/n. “We all just feel that it would be best for you guys to take some time to think all of this through and get some rest, it’s nothing big and I expect you all to be back in due time okay?”

“…I understand.” As much as she wanted to fight Poe on this their friendship wasn’t important right now, he was the authority figure and she needed to follow orders.

“Alrighty well we should be back by tomorrow afternoon, take it easy okay?” He patted Y/n’s leg than stood up and exited the room, the door shutting behind him.

A few hours passed and Y/n been roaming the residential floor of the ship, it was passed midnight so it was very quiet except a few resistance personnel or a worker droid.

The floors and walls around her were a shining white, the only sound filling her ears was her own breathing and footsteps against the metal floor.

She thought back to the incident, Ben had come to comfort her, he thought at first that it was all an accident and that the fear he sensed from her was just from when she had pushed him into the wall, when Y/n told him what had truly happened he was enraged, quickly after the rest of the group showed up Ben disappeared from the bunker leaving Dahla to tend to Y/n and he went and found Farron.. Y/n thought he looked bad after she Force slammed him against the wall but when she saw him before leaving Takodana she couldn’t believe it, he was covered in bruises and had a black eye, Ben had unleashed his anger on Farron to a certain extent, had it been before a simple Force choke would have taken care of him but halfway through his beating Ben resisted to go any further, he knew that by giving into the fire inside him he would have ignited something that he had fought so hard to extinguish. Ben felt guilty for letting his emotions get the best of him but his resentment for Farron and feeling of responsibility for Y/n’s protection had only grown stronger. Y/n was lost on how to handle all of this so she had been avoiding Ben, she wasn’t mad at him she just felt responsible for the entire situation and was loathing herself for it.

As Y/n was rounding a corner she heard another set of footsteps, thinking it was another worker she continued on not considering the possibility of who it could be. Then suddenly she was face to face with Ben. He stared forward unsurprised to have found her there. Y/n was so deep in thought that she hadn’t even sensed him, this realization shot a wave of pain over her.

“Ben..” she had a remorseful tone to her. She hadn’t talked to him since yesterday morning when she had found out what he did and even though it wasn’t long the ache of not being close to him had set in deep within her. “Can we talk?” She meekly asked.

He paused for a moment before simply nodding, they both silently strolled back to his room. When they had entered it Y/n went and sat on the edge of his bed.

Ben stood a few feet in front of her, obviously keeping a distance between them. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she must think of him, proving everyone right again, that he was some First Order monster who wanted nothing but to cause chaos and violence, a machine who was good for nothing but to inflict pain.

They looked at eachother, neither one breaking the silence. Y/n’s eyes wandered over his frame, he always stood with impeccable posture, a sense of authority and power poured from him. But then she noticed his hands, his knuckles and fingers were wrapped tightly in white bandaging. Her heart skipped a beat and her throat became tight and painful.

“B-Ben…” her voice cracking as she looked up into his eyes which were closely watching her. His entire demeanor changed with her calling for him, his shoulders relaxed and he felt that same pit in his stomach throb with pain. She outstretched her arms to him while tears began to seep into her sleep deprived eyes.

Quickly he moved forward and sat beside her, she wasted no time wrapping her arms around him and burrowing herself into his chest. He thought that she wanted to condemn him, tell him how terrible he was for what he did to Farron, that it was a mistake ever letting him teach her since he was such a failure himself, that he was sick and she never wanted to be around him again. But alas there he sat, on the edge of his bed with the girl he had grown so close to nuzzled into his chest as she sniffled quietly.

“I’m so sorry Ben, I don’t know what happened or how it happened,” she moved up to face him, her eyes wet and lips shaking. “I failed you, I caused all of this.” She looked down and grabbed his right hand, caressing his bandaged knuckles. “I did this..” Tears fell from her eyes onto his hand, he gently pulled his hand away and pulled her into a soft embrace, “Y/n none of this was your fault, you didn’t fail me do you understand?” He squeezed her tighter, burying his face into the curve between her neck and shoulder. “None of this was your fault I promise.. I promise you it wasn’t.” They sat intertwined with eachother for what felt like eternity, but if this truly was eternity then Ben would have been content, wrapped in the arms of Y/n, close where he could protect her, keep her safe.

After another few minutes had passed the sniffling from Y/n had ended, she gently pulled away from his grasp and looked upto his face, again they were so close..

Ben lifted his right hand and wiped his clothed thumb across her cheek, wiping away the wetness.

“What can I do..? To make this all better?” She asked blinking away any remaining tears.

Ben thought for a moment, staring into her e/c eyes, then trailing his gaze down to her bitten-pink lips. “Stay.” He answered hushed, his eyes not leaving her mouth.

Y/n could tell what he was staring at, suddenly a hint of shyness or embarrassment hit her, her cheeks began to feel warm and flushed. “Okay..” she softly replied.

He then moved his hand which was still holding her cheek, he lightly pressed his thumb against her lips and oh so slightly pushed them from left to right, he was entranced with their shape, color, and softness.

A heat was beginning to build inside each of them, the tension that they first felt a few nights ago in the tent had returned and this time it’s wasn’t just Y/n whose head was being filled with fantasies.

Then smoothly and quietly Ben asked, “Could you do something else for me?” He swallowed down his nervousness.

Y/n stared at him, so many possibilities of what he was going to ask rushing through her head.

“Anything.” She whispered, her unseen devotion swimming to the surface.

Then with a long pause, Ben started to close the gap between them, his dark eyes were half lidded and his lips brought together.

Then like the waves of the sea rushing to shore their lips curved together like perfect symmetry.

His lips felt delicate, not wanting to be too overpowering he tried his best to remain gentle with her but inside of him was a powerful thundering storm. His head spun with dizziness as the feeling of her plump mouth hypnotized him with ecstasy.

Y/n breathed out lightly, a small moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

Ben was shot back to reality by this, he broke away from the drug that was Her. His eyes flickered between her eyes and mouth, awaiting a response.

The corners of her now moist lips curled into a warm satisfied smile. “I…” she huffed out with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Her right hand trailed down his shoulder, holding tightly onto his bicep.

He also allowed a small smile to rise, “Was it okay?” His voice oozed uncertainty as he pressed together his brows.

Y/n leaned forward and carefully pressed a kiss onto his mouth once more. “It was perfect..” her eyes gleamed with joy.

Ben hadn’t felt this happy in so long, his chest was brimming with light as he admired Y/n, it felt right to be in this moment with her, to share this intimacy that he so badly wanted to the night in the tent, he wrapped his hands around her waist and slowly fell back on the bed.

Her eyes fluttered to stay awake as she crawled closer in his arms, she rested her head against his shoulder and stared up at him, love and admiration beaming from her gaze.

He pressed his lips against her forehead, holding the kiss for a moment before releasing and wrapping his arms tightly around her, Ben thought to himself how he never wanted to let her go, never wanted to leave such a beautiful moment with her. He turned his head to his right and looked out at the galaxy as it seemed to swim by, all of the stars which were gleaming through the dark space couldn’t even begin to compare to the beauty of the woman in his arms, for the first time in a long time Ben knew that he had something, something beautiful and light and tangible to fight for.

#kylo ren #star wars #ben solo #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #adam driver #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfic

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years ago

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You Are My Light (Rio x Reader)

Hey, so I'm super excited for this cause I haven't written for Rio in so long. Enjoy!

Rio was a tough cookie, a man of crime which only meant he was surrounded but those types of people. When he had met Beth back in the day he was intrigued because her life was so different from his, so... Colorless and grim, a life of routines and packed sandwiches. For a while it was fun to shake up her life, until she became like all the others in his cycle, greedy for power and sneaky, now she was "his girl" which meant she was his fall person, gave her the keys and put her name so if anything goes wrong she can be the one to take the blow.

"Alright little man today is mother's day, you gotta pick the best flowers for mama"

Rio said to his son as they stood in the flower shop, Marcus was going all around the shop, dragging the man that worked there with him so he can point out which flowers he wanted.

"Your son has a great eye for arranging a bouquet"

"He's a momma's boy that's why"

At that the phone rang. The man went to pick it up and it seemed to be important, he covered the phone and yelled a name, then she came out. A girl with hair falling on her face and wearing an apron

"Yes"

"Can you fix the bouquet for the gentleman? I need to take this"

"Umm o-ok"

Rio was interested as soon as he saw her, her soft spoken voice was barely above a whisper as she approached the counter top and clearly tried to avoid eye contact. Her hands were not that steady but she seemed to know what she was doing, rio thought that she was acting like this because she wasn't comfortable doing it in front of a crowd. As she was finishing up she finally looked up to him but only for a quick second as she bit the inside of her cheek to look back down.

"It's ummm 30$ s-sir"

Rio smiled at her shy demeanor it felt like a century had passed from the last time he had met somebody so timid, it was mesmerizing to him. He gave her the money and then passed the bouquet to Marcus who seemed super excited for this purchase and the creation he had made

"Excuse me miss, may I ask your name?"

"(Y-y/n)... Sir"

"Call me Rio, I'll see you around sweetheart"

After that Rio came to the flower shop every day to buy a single white Rose and every day (y/n) found one waiting on her cars windshield with a note that always said "you looked beautiful today. To say she was flattered was an understatement, one side of hers was thrilled that such a handsome man was showing interest in her, the other was surprised that a man as confident and as determined as he was had decided to take the time and pursue her in such romantic way. After two weeks of roses he had waited to give her the rose in person along with the proposal of a date.

That's when he found out she wasn't comfortable with anyone in general, it wasn't about his presence that made her shy, she was like that with everyone. After a while he felt the need to be the one to take care of her, protect her in any way, even if that was making an order for her at the restaurant while she scooted closer to him and held the him of his shirt to feel secure.

"I'm going to the bathroom"

"Ok mama"

Rio said as (y/n) left him at the bar, it was Rios birthday so they had gone to a bar to celebrate. She finally had a reason to wear the midi white satin dress Rio had bought her, she had to admit it looked beautiful and she slowly came to the realization that Rio had connected her with the color white. As she reached out her arm to open the bathroom door a man grabbed her arm to stop her

"Hello gorgeous"

She felt like somebody threw cold water at her, she froze on her spot while the man smiled at her in a way she could tell was not just friendly. (Y/n) immediately looked down as she took a step back to get some distance from the man.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry I just wanted to know who you are"

"I-i"

"She is taken"

Her head shot at the direction her boyfriends voice came. She didn't even realize that she was walking to him and then proceeded to stand behind him, hiding away from the man that had scared her. She grabbed his shirt and leaned in to him as she tried to stop her legs from shaking.

"I didn't know she was mute"

"She is not, she just talks to people that respect her personal space"

Rio thankfully had seen the scene go down and in a blink of an eye and out of pure instinct he had shot out of his chair and basically ran to (y/n). The man wasn't already laying at the ground for disrespecting her because he knew how upset (y/n) would get. She hated any type of fighting and even after dating for so long (y/n) didn't really know what Rio's occupation was, he didn't want her to be scared of him.

"I don't want no trouble man"

"Yet you tried to put your hands on a woman, see where I'm from that means you are asking for trouble"

Rio stood proudly in front of his woman as he could feel (y/n)s shaky breath on his neck. The man looked uncomfortable and a little bit scared, just how she felt before Rio stepped in. All Rio could think about was how this scene might have played if he wasn't there and that angered him even more. He might be a man of the night and balls deep into illegal things but he respected two rules "you don't touch women and you don't touch children" unless you trynna see God.

"(Y/n) go back to our spot please"

"I-"

"(Y/n)!.... I'm sorry, go and wait for me ok baby?"

He didn't mean to yell at her, he just wanted to shield her from seeing his ugly side. So he turned around and placed and gentle kiss on the top of her head before (y/n) walked away, as soon as her back was turned and she had made a few steps he pulled the guy into the man's bathroom and slammed his back against the wall.

"What's your name?"

"Jason Adams"

"Now you listen here, by an hour I will know every detail about you. If I find out you ain't keeping your hands to yourself again... You won't even hear the knock on the door. Got it?"

"Ok"

At that Rio let him go, the guy let out a huff and turned to the sink to splash some water on his face. As Rio turned to leave, (y/n) came to his mind, how scared she was and the sound of her breath as she hid behind him.

"On another thought"

Rio said and grabbed the guys head, with one swift powerful movement his forehead got smashed to the sink, the sound was deafening and after that the guy was unconscious, Rio knew he wasn't dead so he just fixed his collared shirt and walked out of the bathroom.

(Y/n) was sitting down looking at something on her phone, Rio knew she would pull out her phone went she was alone as a defense machenism to hide from the world. As he approached he gave her a big hug that she very much needed. She felt her muscles relax as she took in his cologne, she closed her eyes to fully let go of her worries and feel safe once again as her man was here. She looked up and smiled at him, feeling the warm sensation of serenity taking over her.

"Thank you"

"Don't ever thank me for protecting you, I am here for that"

She smiled even brighter as Rio leaned in to give her a gentle, intimate kiss on her painted lips. She was his source of purity in this love, this warm light that showed him what it feels like to surrender to love, to fully know that the person next you could never harm you or anyone else.

"You are my light"

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chocolateheart · 3 years ago

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Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

Note

hi! can you write some dad!andyrobertson please?! I love your writing so much!! <333 something about him with a daughter please 💕 DILF DILF DILF !

oh he's 100% a dilf - and here you go!

a fathers woe

andy struggles with the prospect of his baby growing up as the little girl asks if she can get married

“Daddy?” Andy heard his daughters sweet little voice, “Can i ask you a question.” Andy knows immediately there is another question set to follow, but he cannot help himself from the typical dad response that falls out his lips before he can stop it. “You just did, love.”

You snigger, shaking your head as you dip the little nail painting brush back into the pot before returning it to your daughters foot to finish painting the last of her toes bright pink per her request. “That’s not funny, daddy.” She scolds, frowning. Andy swallows his laughs, nodding his head and holding his hands up in apology. That seems enough for your daughter, who turns back to her sticker book as Andy and you share a look with silent laughter. “Don’t touch them for five minutes.” You instruct, closing the nail polish and kissing your daughters head.

“Course you can ask me a question, lovely. Go on?” Andy hums after giving you a kick kiss before you disappear upstairs. Andy back to grating cheese over his homemade pizza as he hears his daughter crunch her way through the apple slices in her bowl as she lays on her front on the large marble top of the kitchen island, head propped up by her elbows. “Why did you get married to mummy?” She asks sweetly, not looking up at him as she speaks. Mila continues to colour in her little liverpool colouring book, only occasionally stopping to stick on a coloured or sparkly sticker over Trent Alexander-Arnold’s head. Andy purses his lips, tilting his head slightly in thought as he pushes the two trays of pizza’s into the huge oven.

“Because we love each other very much.” Andy replies casually, shrugging as does. He isn’t exactly sure where the question has come from, but he’s sure he’ll be soon to find out considering she’s very young and doesn’t tend to beat around the bush at all. “Is that all?” She asks curiously. Andy mocks hurt with a quirked eyebrow and a scoff that his daughter doesn’t pick up on. With his back pressed against the kitchen counter and ankles crossed over each other, he observed his little girl with the same level of curiosity she had in her question.

“Well, yeah. People gets married for lots of different reason. Me and your mum wanted to be husband and wife, we love each other very much and there’s lots of…” Andy pauses, trying to think of a way to explain the legal benefits of marriage to Mila without completely confusing her young mind. “Homework.” He concludes, somewhat triumphantly proud of his quick thinking. “Adults have lots of homework to do to buy houses and stuff like that. Sometimes that’s easier too when you’re married.” He tries to explain, watching her nod along. Her reception school homework is nothing difficult of course, but she doesn’t enjoy it and it’s difficult to her, so she grasps the concept generally. “But you should never marry anyone just to make your homework easier.” He adds sternly. “You should only marry someone you love.”

“Okay.” She nods, little eyebrows still furrowed. “So does that mean i can marry-”

“No.” Andy interrupts firmly, standing up straight with an immediate frown set into his features. Mila protests with a pout, “But daddy you didn’t let me finish!”

“Still no.” He retorts, offering her a tight lipped smile. “That’s rude, daddy.” Mila chides, sitting up to cross her legs in a basket and frown at her dad in the very same way he’s frowning at her. “Boys are rude.” Andy quips, “That’s why you should never marry one.”

“Mummy married you?” She challenges, cocking one eyebrow and crossing her little arms.

“That’s different.” Andy brushes off, turning away from his daughter to busy himself with sweeping the grated cheese off the counter with one hand into his other hand to flick it into the bin. “How?” Mila protests, making him roll his eyes with his back to her. She is just like you; persistent, usually right and a true powerhouse. She doesn’t give up easily and she almost never backs down. She’s you with the very best of his flaws sprinkled through. And his volume. She is just as loud as he is, much to your dismay.

“Because me and your mum love each other.” Andy says. “Well i love-”

“No you don’t.”

“Daddy you didn’t let me finish! How do you know?” She argues, clearly getting frustrated a little at her usually very easygoing dad. “Because you’re too young.” He responds, seemingly simply.

“You’re not being very kind, daddy.” She grumbles, evidently irritated. “I’m telling mummy.” She slides to the edge of the island countertop, clambering down onto the her little stool before leaping gracelessly down and running off yelling out for you.

Andy sighs to himself, dropping his head into his hands as he slumps down at the island on one of the comfortable stools. He can hear her voice and yours, but not what either of you are saying until it goes quiet and you both appear again the doorway. The little girl year old holds onto your hand tightly.

“What do we say when we haven’t been very kind, Andy?” You prompt, eyebrows raised and an ever so slightly teasing glint in your eyes that’s barely suppressed on the lips that fight a smirk. “I’m sorry, Mila.” Andy apologises, standing off his seat to crouch down on one knee. “Could i give you a hug to say how sorry i am for not listening to you properly and not answering your questions nicely?”

The little girl nods, letting go of your hands to shuffle over to her dad, allowing him to engulf her little body against his large one, almost completely shrouding her from your view. After a moment, he lifts her up and places her back on the kitchen island where she was sitting.

“Daddy was upset because you’re my little girl and you growing up is scary for me to think about.” He admits, swallowing thickly. You and Andy have been practicing a very honest manor of parenting. You sometimes feel let down by the childhood you had and you want to give her better, making sure she has emotional stability and the opportunity to know she can share her feelings whenever. Mistakes will happen, it’s how we respond to them that is important. You want her to be healthy physically and emotionally. It’s one of the most important parts of being a parent, in your opinion.

“It’s okay.” Mila replies sweetly, pressing a little kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want to marry any boys anyway. Mummy reminded me how gross they are. You’re the only boy i love daddy.” She shrugs, smiling like the little angel she truly is. “Good. Now come here.” Andy pulls her back into his arms, turning to you to give you a wide eyed look and a mouthed “thank you!”

She wriggles from his arms after he attempted to press kisses all over her and runs off giggling to hide from him elsewhere in the house and probably look for her soft football; the only one that’s allowed indoors after you smashed a lamp with one of Andy’s footballs and both you and Mila agreed to tell him it was the dog who broke said lamp with the football.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Andy groans as he walks towards you, wrapping his arms right around you and he pressing his lips onto yours firmly. “Mhm, i think i bought you a few more months.” You giggle, your nose bumping against his as he laughs along with you. He groans again, burying his head in your shoulder as your hand gently scratches the nape of his neck comfortingly. “Wanna make another?” He mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder through your hoodie.

“Cheeky bastard,” you jab your thumb into his ribcage slightly, words spoken between gentle laughter as you shake your head. “Seriously though?” He retorts, pulling back a bit to rest both his hands on your waist. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he takes in your proximity and natural scent contently. “Let’s make another. We could try for a boy?”

“It doesn’t really work like that.” You giggle, eyes crinkling with your smile. Andy rolls his eyes playfully. “So?” He shrugs, pecking his lips against yours again, “You in?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips against him only broken by your smile. “Course i’m in and oi!” You swat at his wandering hand, dipping beneath the waistband of your leggings, “Not right this second you filthy man!”

Andy throws his head back with a loud, playful groan that’s broken up by his laughter when he heads you giggling before you press a gentle kiss to his exposed neck. “I love you.” You smile, watching his eyes sparkle as he turns his face back to you. “Yeah yeah yeah, i love you too.”

“Rude, daddy!” Mila chimes as she appears in the kitchen again, only having heard the end of he conversation.

“Sorry,” the scolded man retorts, immediately knowing the correction his daughter wants him to make to his prior words to you; “I love you more.”

Mila nods, smiling up at you clearly proud of her intervention for her very adored mother in the name of girl power, bumping her little fist against yours before she turns back to her dad, who wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world, to give him a very tight lipped response.

“Much better daddy. Don’t let it happen again.”

#andy robertson #andy robertson x reader #andy robertson imagine #andy robertson imagines #footie fics #football fics #footballers fics #football imagines #footballer imagines

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bloodwrittenballad · 4 years ago

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Greatest Weapon | Kaz Brekker

Summary: you’re Kaz’ greatest weapon, but he refuses to use you for one of his most important heists. angrily you question him for reasoning as to why and find out you’re not just his greatest weapon, but his greatest weakness too.

Warnings: fighting, slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, swears, shitty writing, little sweet at the end. readers gender isn’t specified. also please note i’m dyslexic so if there’s any mistakes please be kind about it!

let me know what you think! it’s rushed i know and probably not great but feedback is always appreciated! - parker

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Kaz sat at his desk, head resting in his gloved hands as he mulled over the conversation he’d just had about the largest mission with the crows. It was no doubt going to be a tricky one, and with your help the other were convinced it’d work. However, Kaz was not entirely too sure about that.

“I’ve said it before and I will say it again. We are not asking for their assistance.” Kaz muttered bitterly at Jesper, who was wide eyed at the suggestion of using your gifts. “But why not?” Inej pressed the matter. She’d seen you in action before, she knew you were more than capable of pulling off heists, especially one of this risk. “They’ve got talent, Kaz. Skill. We need that, especially now. Why can’t we use them?” Asked a desperate Inej.

“Because I said so!” Kaz had snapped, not meaning to come off as harsh, especially to Inej, but the subject of you had always round him up. “We are not using Y/N for this mission, and that. is. final.” The other crow members nodded, jaws slightly clenched and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless they listen to their boss and dropped the subject.

You, however, would not give up so easily. As soon as you had gotten to the Slat to hear the latest update on the mission, only to find out from Inej that you weren’t to be apart of it, all thanks to the ever so lovely bastard of the barrel, you saw red. Inej barely got to mutter out anything else she may have had to say, before you were stomping up the stairs to Kaz’s office.

You didn’t bother knocking like you usually would’ve, instead your soft hand met the cold metal doorknob, and ripped it open with great ferocity. The sound of intense creaking and Kaz’s name being spat broke him out of his thoughts, his cold and tired eyes snapping up to your angry ones. He stood up at once, his tall body standing still before your seething shorter figure.

“What is the meaning of this, Y/N.” He spoke in his usual authoritative edge. You scoffed. “Oh please, like you don’t fucking know exactly why I’m here. Instead why don’t you tell me the meaning of why you aren’t allowing me on this next mission? Huh? Why’s that, Kaz?” Your voice was harsh as you all but spat your words in his face, like they were venom seeping off your tongue in waterfalls.

Kaz wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t slightly surprised by your aggressiveness, yet of course he wouldn’t admit out loud or show it. Still, the spite in your demeanor towards him in this moment was like nothing he’d ever witnessed before. Sure you were as stubborn as could be, there was no denying that, and as his greatest weapon, he knew more than anyone just how fearsome you were. You’d just never directed it at him.

Until now. And Kaz could see just how much these jobs meant to you. However, regardless of the fact, his mind was made up, and that was final. You were not to be joining this mission, instead you could stay there with any medical supplies they may need ready in case anyone got injured. But he couldn’t risk you being the one in possible need of help in the unfortunate case you got hurt if you went.

And that’s exactly what he told you, not that final part of him not wanting you get hurt though of course. You let out another scoff followed by the fakest laugh he had ever heard. Actually, come by think of it, that was the only time he’d ever heard you laugh in general. What a pity it wasn’t genuine.

“Oh so what, is this a demotion? Or do you suddenly just not need me anymore, is that it? I thought I was your stupid ‘Greatest Weapon’. What changed that?”

‘My feelings for you!’ Kaz’s mind seemed to yell at him. Instead he just clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at you. “It’s not a demotion, it’s protection.”He claimed. You rolled your eyes. “Bullshit. Protection against what exactly? You know better than anyone else that I can handle myself. Been doin’ it since I was a kid, I’m more capable than most when it comes to fighting.”

“I wasn’t talking about your protection.” Kaz hissed. Lie. “I’m talking about our protection, me and the other Crows. You’re reckless, you get hotheaded, that puts us in danger. I can’t afford you putting any of our lives on the line anymore, especially on this job.”

Another lie. You weren’t any of those things. You were one of the most skilled he’d ever seen or known, he just had to say these things to get you to back down. You however, being the stubborn pain in the ass you always were, still wasn’t buying it, even if you were slightly hurt by what he said.

“No. No Kaz I’m buying that. I’m not reckless, I never have been. I’m your best shot at bringing home the big win for this heist and you know that! Everyone fucking knows that! So tell me, truthfully, why aren’t you letting me do this? Is it punishment? Or could it be that you’re jealous? Is that it?”

Kaz drew in a deep breathe as he listened to you rant, which stopped you short in your tracks. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. Oh Saints, is the Kaz Brekker jealous of his Greatest Weapon? Is that why you don’t want me going, because you’re afraid I’ll best you?”

His dark eyes glared at the mention, but remained silent. You just smirked, thinking you had figured it out. “Well then,” you hummed. “I guess now that we’ve gotten to the bottom of this I can go, can’t I? Unless you don’t mind me telling everyone why you had such a hissy fit over me joining...”

With that, you turned to leave his office, satisfied thinking you won and could officially go. But before you reached the door, Kaz’s voice calling your name stopped you in your spot. You froze, shocked by the tone of his voice. Not because it was harsh, not because he was snapping at you, but... because the way he spoke was so soft it was like a whisper.

That was something you’d never experienced before. Kaz had never sounded so, desperate? You turned on your heals to him, your boots creaking on the floor as you came face to face with him. And that’s when the real shock of this situation set in.

In front of you was no longer your boss, the barrel of the bastard that so many feared. Instead, in his place was a boy who looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Y/N,” he began, it came out in a croak. “Kaz?” You questioned, unsure you took a few steps closer towards him.

He looked up you, with shiny eyes that looked like they burned with tears waiting to be shed. “Kaz, I- Whats going-,” you began, but he held up a gloved hand, silencing you.

“Y/N,” he started once more. “I- I’m not doing any of this out of jealousy, o-or because I think you’re reckless. I’m going this because...” his voice goes quiet, and he looks like he’s trapped in thought. “Because...?” you questioned, eagerly awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.

Kaz inhaled heavily before exhaling, pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly closing his eyes. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally concluded. And now it was your turn to inhale sharply, shock overtaking you once more.

“W-what do you mean, lose me, Kaz? I-I dont-,” he interrupts you. “This heist is dangerous, Y/N. It’s not like our usual ones, this one could mean certain death for some. I cannot let any of those be you. I won’t. I can’t. You may be my greatest weapon, but you’re also my greatest weakness. W-without you I- I can’t think of what I’d do without you. You’re all I have left, Y/N. The only person I’ve had by my side since I was a child that I have left and I can’t jeopardize that more than I have. So please, please I’m begging you, stay here. For me.”

Your eyes went wide and glassy as he spoke, all the words that tumbled out of his mouth hitting you at full speed while you tried to process what this meant. You rose your bowed head to look him in the eyes, they mirrored your own. Glassy and wide, but with a mix of something you hadn’t seen in ages.

Childlike hope. The same hope he had in his eyes the day you promised you’d be by his side forever when you were both children. His only hope left was to keep you safe, that’s all he wanted. And that’s when you agreed, “okay.” your voice was shaky. “Okay, I’ll stay. But just for this one, deal? As long as you promise me you’ll be okay without me. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kaz felt many things in this moment of what he had just revealed, but mostly he felt relieved at your agreement. If he could ensure you’d be safe for even just an extra day, then he’d make it his mission to make sure this heist went perfectly so he could make it back home to you.

“I promise. I’ll come back to you, Y/N. I always will.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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vidalinav · 3 years ago

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Life’s a Beach (1)

I underestimated how long this fic was, so I smashed them together. I will continue just posting snippets and writing it like that (and then smashing them together), but since most of you will already have read it, I will include a bonus scene at the end. My thank you for putting up with my unconventional writing process.

Summary: Tarquin comes to town and Cassian is jealous.

Cassian doesn’t like when Tarquin visits.

Never mind the ban from the Summer Court or that at one point, blood rubies pilfer their court. Never mind that Summer crowns him holier than the seas and the sun. Cassian doesn’t like the ease in which he walks. He may not have his usual royal garb, but he glides along the Sidra. The mighty king out for a stroll.

Nesta looks like his queen.

His mate is bright and beaming, huffing laughs and smiling wide as she praises his ideas. Cassian has ideas, too.

But Nesta isn’t interested in his ideas as he follows them around. Nesta just continues smiling. Her skin glows with the sun, the apples of her cheeks turning a pretty shade of apricot as Tarquin notes the dying rays. Are you a poet Tarquin? Cassian wants to ask, but knowing the High Lord, he just might be and Nesta fucking loves poetry.

Her cheeks remain pink and Cassian resists grabbing her hand and dragging her back to the house. You’ll die of heatstroke; he might say if she protests. But no.

He won’t.

He promises to be on his best behavior.

Even so, Cassian can’t help eyeing buildings as they pass. Just break one, he urges. One and we can ban you from the Night Court. But that might mean, Nesta spending some time in Summer, with her good friend Tarquin, who makes Nesta beam like that, make her cheeks red like that.

All Cassian sees is red.

All Nesta looks at is Tarquin.

“You know, I never thought someone as young as you would be so conniving.”

Conniving? Cassian isn’t paying attention, but at the word, he’s ready to deem it insulting enough to fight Tarquin if Nesta so much as gives him a look. But Nesta only listens as Tarquin speaks. Cassian can’t even read her expression. It’s blank as she stares.

“I admire that quality,” The little high lord says.

Admire someone else, buddy.

Nesta only snorts, the words making her laugh.

The light plays with her eyes as she smirks. They look bluer today. Less silver. Cassian has to think that it has something to do with Tarquin. Tarquin who brings out the blue in Nesta’s eyes, who brings pink to her cheeks. Never mind that it probably has more to do with how bright it is today.

“You’re too smart,” he remarks, and Cassian wants to roll his eyes. Nesta is too smart, too smart to be hanging around with some pompous flatterer. “No wonder you’re good at this game.”

“What game?” She asks, lightly, but even Cassian can hear the caution. Her voice slowing as if coaxing an answer from his lips.

“The game we all play. These situations that have us playing with life whether we want to or not.” Nesta lilts her head curiously, waiting for further explanation and Cassian waits too, because he’s not sure he understands. Tarquin looks like he’d rather not speak of it, but he continues even so.

“Fae are good at games–invented them really. Court politics, morality, marriage, and bargains. I have to believe you’re good at them. Not just because I’ve seen you, but because I know what Eris offered as soon as he had you in his arms… It’s always the smart ones who win these games–the most clever.”

Nesta rolls her eyes as if his words offer no great importance, “It’s never the smart ones who win.” She counters. “Not the ones who are strongest or the most magically gifted or the one who smiles the sweetest while she glides across the floor. There is no game that you can win by being the most beautiful person in the room… No game I’d want to play anyways.”

“Then who does win?” He urges. Tarquin almost sounds desperate for the answer, and Cassian has to wonder if Nesta has woven a spell around him too just as much as Eris.

“Whoever’s luckiest,” Nesta shrugs simply, “So there’s no point in trying so hard… We all end up in the exact place we were always supposed to be in.”

She doesn’t sound happy about that either, and something about the tone makes Cassian want to hold her close. Make her remember that it’s a joy to be here. To be together, even if it is with another male who skin beams with the summer sun.

I’m lucky to have you.

He hopes she knows.

“Then you’re lucky,” Tarquin notes, “And blessed. You’re blessed and lucky. Smart and clever.” He laughs as if brushing the seriousness off, “Is that why you’re so good at cards? Azriel was moping last night. I thought that had something to do with you.”

Nesta lifts a casual shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. Cassian thinks even that is a play–some move she knows will help her counter his attack. “Azriel loses because he wants to win and it’s easy to win against someone who’s already shown their cards.”

“Motivations are everything.”

“Yes,” Nesta nods frankly, “so why are you here?”

Cassian wants to know, too.

Actually, Cassian wants to push him into the Sidra and see if pretty fishman can float, but he’ll take Nesta’s verbal spar in any case. If he runs back to the House with his tail between his legs, Cassian will consider it a win for the both of them. His lovely strategist.

But Tarquin doesn’t run. Cassian doesn’t think Tarquin will ever run from Nesta and that simple fact makes him furious. That there is another male in this world who will see Nesta and not balk, who will know Nesta and not grimace.

Cassian is not the only male who stays. Not for the power or the beauty or the poise, but because underneath all of that is a female who can conquer as much as she can tame. Whose voice sounds like the sea, whose eyes are crystal clear waters, whose mind rages against the tide.

Tarquin breathes in ocean air.

Every morning, he fishes on the coast. Every evening, he sleeps to the humming sea. Who would know Nesta better than someone who dreams of waves?

So, it doesn’t come as any surprise when Tarquin looks to him, as she asks her question. Why are you here?

“Because I want to know you.”

A fool’s choice.

“I’m not foolish enough to claim you,” He adds, “and I’m not foolish enough to think you’ll ever be claimed, even if you have a mate. No offense, Cassian.”

Offense taken.

“I’m not even foolish enough to think I can even begin to know who you are or what you’ve been through… But when you looked at me that day in the Summer Court, and asked me to help your family, offered me anything that you could give me alone.”

What? Cassian looks to Nesta, but she promptly ignores him, staring at Pompous Prince Tarquin.

“I’d never seen anyone want so badly. I wanted to know what that felt like. Know what stirred so deeply in your heart that you looked at me like you’d give me the entire world for just one yes.”

Tarquin raises a shoulder and Cassian tries not to swallow so loudly. He thinks he might have to shove a fist down his throat to stop his screaming, “You’re a question I keep mulling over and I’ve yet to figure out what the answer is. I don’t even know if I could know the answer if it stared me in the eyes, but I would like to learn. To feel half of what you feel, to learn how to love so truly.”

Cassian replays her answer as he sleeps. He goes over it and over it and over it again. At some point, he wakes her up in the middle of the night, shaking her shoulder.

“Nesta,” he whispers, “Nesta? What did you mean?”

His mate only groans, her brows furrowing, as she burrows further into blankets. Cassian knows he’s playing in dangerous territory, but he can’t stop thinking about. It’s driving him insane.

“Nesta, what did you mean?”

He says it once louder, shaking her again. Nesta only juts out her elbow, hitting him in the rib. Cassian holds in the heavy moan as he clutches his chest, and Nesta settles in her sleep.

Still, Cassian can’t give up now. “When you told Tarquin you’d think about it, what did you mean? Nesta?”

Cassian grasps her shoulder, shaking her lightly, “Nesta!”

“What?” Nesta yells, leaning up so fast, she almost hits her head on his chin. “What do you keep yelling about? I’m trying to sleep!”

Even furious and half-asleep, she looks beautiful. The strap of her nightgown slips down one shoulder, and he trails the movement as if his own fingers push it down. Nesta crosses her arms, and he swallows down the want. Not an appropriate time, Cassian.

She raises a brow, “Well?”

“I wanted to talk,” he says simply.

Nesta looks to the clock on the wall, glaring at him exasperated. “At two in the morning?”

“Good a time as any.”

She looks mad that much is true, and Cassian wishes to appease.

His mate is tired, so he’ll fluff her pillows, rub her shoulders while she relaxes enough to tell him exactly what she means when she tells Tarquin she’ll think about it. As if his I want to get to know you is an offer she can’t refuse.

But as he fluffs her pillows, Cassian can only think of Tarquin.

He would have waited to speak to her, prioritizing Nesta’s health over his wants. Just this morning… or yesterday morning, the High Lord of Summer makes sure to ask Nesta if she’s eaten as she reads her book on the couch–a fact he finds rude to say the least–and when she says no, he offers to make breakfast for her. Oh, so generous of him. Never mind that they have a House who cooks their meals.

Cassian scoffs as he thinks about it. What High Lord plays chef? And who is he to ask if Nesta’s eaten as if his mate isn’t being taken care of?

He yanks at the pillow, beats at it, punches it. He can’t help but imagine Tarquin’s face. He can see feathers jutting from the cushion, and still he hits. The cloth lays in the cinders on the bed before he stops.

Nesta sighs at the mess, grabbing one of the pillows from his side, clasping it to her head.

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks.

“Hoping I suffocate enough to pass out.”

Her voice is muffled, and he grasps at the pillow. Her hair is a ruffled mess. It splays out on the pillow in waves. Cassian can’t help but breathe at the sight of her and the sound is a sigh of relief.

She’s his… Or as much as Nesta can be his.

She chose him.

Nesta with her matted hair, the side of her cheek pink from where she pushes up against the pillow, her silver nightgown making her skin glow in the light of the moon, chooses him.

Shouldn’t that be enough?

Cassian rubs at his face, feeling all too shameful. “I’m sorry. I just–” He takes in their bed, feathers littering the duvet. Suddenly, he feels like a little kid. What was he doing beating a pillow like that? Waking Nesta in the middle of the night?

“You’re jealous,” Nesta says.

Her voice echoes in the room, and Cassian frowns at the words. Of course, he’s jealous. That much is obvious. He’s always jealous.

Nesta is beautiful and powerful and smiles like she grants the sun its light, and males flock to her like moths. Not just any males either but stupid princes and arrogant High Lords and stupid, arrogant Tarquin!

Nesta only grabs at the pillow in his hands, setting it under her head as she closes her eyes. He waits for her to speak, but he can only hear the ticking of the clock, on and on as time passes.

Nesta doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say. You’re jealous and you go back to sleep.”

The pretty pink of her lips purse, but she doesn’t even open her eyes as she says, “If you were looking for comfort, you shouldn’t have woken me up at two in the morning.”

Well… damn.

Cassian settles back at his side, crossing his arms as he stares at the ceiling. He’s one less pillow down, but that doesn’t bother him much. It’s the thoughts that don’t quiet even for a second. Stupid mating bond.

That thought though has him looking to Nesta. No, he loves that mating bond. He loves her. And even if Tarquin wants to impede himself like a wall between them, Cassian will still love Nesta Archeron.

He closes his eyes repeating those words as if they’re a lullaby that will let him drift off to sleep. I love Nesta Archeron. I love Nesta Archeron. I love Nesta Archeron.

The words don’t comfort him even a little.

But Nesta sets her head on his chest. She tucks herself in to the crook of his arm and Cassian squeezes gently–he tries not to hold on too tight.

She must sense his surprise. Whether that be from the bond or because Nesta knows him like that back of her hand, he doesn’t know. But she blinks one eye open, looking at him with bright grey and all his fears are assuaged.

“You should hold me since you woke me up.”

Cassian can only blink, nodding his head as she wraps his arms around her, and he settles in. He can hear her heart beating and he can hear her soft breathing and Cassian can go to sleep to this. He can.

Cassian will hold her until she tells him let go. Cassian will not let go.

Still… he can’t help it.

“I bet Tarquin can’t hold you like this.”

Cassian only gets mouth full of feathers.

Tarquin tells Rhys that he’s going to stay for two weeks. During this time, they’ll talk of treaties, draw up some plan of trade, some easy comings and goings of Night Court and Summer Court residences. Cassian tells Rhys that they don’t need a treaty. Throw him out now, he thinks.

“Is something going on with you?” Rhys asks, leaning back in his chair, ever the High Lord. Cassian is starting to hate High Lords.

Cassian crosses his arms, grinding his teeth. He’s in the sitting room in the estate. Amren solves a puzzle as if nothing about this meeting is important at all. Mor talks to Feyre by the dining room, gossiping rather than listening to Rhys moan about Tarquin and peace treaties. Nesta, not that she goes to these meetings, is out doing gods know what with Tarquin who wants to view the city.

Take me to all your favorite places, he says. Cassian rolls his eyes just thinking about the way Nesta’s light up. Bookstores and restaurants and museums. She knows them all. Nesta goes with him, first. Why does Tarquin care? Is he planning on buying a winter house in Velaris?

Cassian’s blood runs cold at the thought.

“He’s jealous,” Azriel says, throwing a scroll at Rhys which he easily catches.

Mor’s head jerks up at the word, even Feyre smirks with interest.

“No,” Cassian dismisses, but he’s never been a good liar. His voice pitches high and Rhys eyes him with humor, “I… just think that we don’t need Summer Court resources, when we have an abundance of them already.”

“You’re also banned,” Amren comments helpfully, “I would say that makes you the most biased towards these dealings.”

“Your boyfriend is from the Summer Court; wouldn’t that make you the most biased?” Mor asks. Amren simply shrugs.

“I mean have we considered that. That male banned me and now we’re opening our borders?”

“Our borders have always been open,” Feyre says, not so helpfully. The look she gives him has him sinking in his seat. “Also, you wrecked the central magistrate.”

“They’ve rebuilt it,” Cassian argues.

“You mates are all the same,” Amren groans loudly, “She’s not going to fuck Tarquin.”

“Shut up Amren!”

“That’s the best you can do? I’m sure Tarquin’s more eloquent.”

“Amren,” Feyre says, giving her that motherly reprimanding look. An expression that Cassian supposes comes with the motherhood package.

It does the trick.

Amren sneers, but she settles back where she sits on the floor, picking at her puzzle. Cassian has the sudden urge to knock the pieces off the table, just for the comment alone.

“Nesta loves you, Cassian,” Feyre says, her voice light and calming. Too bad it doesn’t calm him, and he doesn’t want to talk about this now even if she goads. “What’s there to be jealous of?”

Cassian already knows this answer. He knows this answer this morning, the other night, the minute summer enters Velaris spring. It’s not that Nesta loves him. Cassian knows Nesta loves him. It’s that he lets his guard down. He forgets the most crucial information of all–

Nesta is easily lovable.

Sure, she might give a sneer or two at someone who annoys her well enough or beat the living daylights out of someone who threatens those she loves, but Nesta is an easily lovable dork.

She laughs at stupid things and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s a goofball! He swears she knows every book in that library. She absorbs information like a sponge, will rant for hours about everything she learns. Her thoughtfulness knows no bounds. They’ll be off at the market and if she sees something that looks like Gwyn or Emerie or himself or whoever, she has to have it. She has to give it to them. They go to get cinnamon buns and she orders enough for the priestesses. She remembers everyone’s birthday. She learns the name of every patron and their families and their language and their holidays. It’s not hard to love Nesta.

Who would not love Nesta?

So yes, he has something to be jealous of.

“You look stressed,” Mor notes, her eyebrows raising.

Amren nods, “You look like you’re going to fight someone.”

“Or puke,” Azriel adds.

“Just don’t fight Tarquin,” Rhys concludes, “I can’t ban you from the court, but I can certainly make sure you’re away in Illyria while he’s here.”

“You guys are really supportive, you know that?”

“Well at least we’re not trying to steal you’re girl,” Mor teases.

“Yet.”

Cassian gives her a glare, but she only laughs a bright sound.

“I’ve never seen you jealous,” she says.

“I’m not jealous.”

Azriel raises a pointed finger, “what about that one time you threw that rock at that window?”

“Or when you broke that male’s nose,” Rhys suggests.

Amren rolls her eyes, setting down a piece of her puzzle, “How about the last time we all went to a bar.”

Mor, Azriel, and Rhys look to each other, contemplating the words. Cassian watches as they nod their heads slowly.

“Oh yeah.”

“You’re right.”

“You were jealous then, too.”

“I was not jealous,” Cassian insists.

Thankfully, Feyre–sweet Feyre offers him relief. She raises her hands, and Cassian thinks he’s glad to have such a loyal sister-in-law. “Guys, he was not jealous.”

Thank you, Feyre.

“He was territorial.”

The others voice their agreement before Cassian has a chance to speak–to defend himself from this defamation of character.

Not that he can defend himself.

He remembers that day all too well…

It’s the first Nesta goes to a bar with them. The first time she goes to a bar in a while, and she’s nervous. But she looks beautiful. So damn beautiful that he thinks he might suggest staying in. She has on a black dress with these tiny straps and a necklace that makes him want to trace her neck with his tongue until she’s mewling and soft and pliant. But she’s nervous, so he only kisses her forehead.

We don’t have to drink he says. I won’t drink either, he promises.

Cassian turns out to be a bold-faced liar.

He’s drunk by the time the first band plays. He keeps gobbling down the drinks. Nesta gets them for free. Martinis, vodka sodas, gin, and whiskey. All manners of shots. Every alcohol keeps floating her way. The males seem to think they only need to find the right one. The one Nesta prefers and they take it as a challenge. He remembers asking if she even needed their money all those months ago, and she only shrugs a shoulder. Haughty and much, much too beautiful.

Nesta offers to send them back, but Cassian gulps them down one by one before she can even call over the waitress. I can take it, he says.

Once again, Cassian is made a liar.

They have to carry him out of that bar. At some point, he remembers flying over the city as Rhys and Azriel chase him through the streets.

The only way they get him down is by Nesta calling for him. An easy trick, he thinks. If they asked him, they should have tried that first. Of course, he answers his mate when she calls.

When he meets her, crawling back with his wings drooping to the concrete, Nesta only opens her arms as if she wants him to hug her. Cassian hugs her. He… climbs on top of her, really.

But she combs her fingers through his hair and Cassian hunches over to lay his head on her shoulder and the next thing he knows… he’s lying in bed, a glass of water and some headache powder on the side table.

She’d hit that nerve in his neck.

Cassian wants to scoff just thinking about it.

“Where is Nesta anyway?”

The question has Cassian grinding his teeth, he can hear the noise in his ears. With fucking Tarquin.

“She’s out,” he says instead.

“Out where?”

“Out to museums,” He lists thinking of all the places Nesta enjoys. “Or picnics.” All the places that Nesta will smile at. “Or restaurants.” All places Nesta will bubble up with laughter, that she’ll blush with glee, that she’ll gaze at wistfully with that bastard Tarquin. “Or maybe romantic boat rides. The one in that fucking swan.”

Cassian doesn’t even know he grabs on to the throw pillow, but the next thing he knows the cushion is torn in half and the stuffing falls out like billowing snow.

The others look at him strangely, but it’s Feyre who takes a cautious step towards him, taking the pillow from his hands.

“And when will they be done?”

Cassian rolls his eyes, looking to the clock. “I meet them in a half an hour. We’re getting lunch,” he mocks in a voice that doesn’t sound anything like the High Lord of Summer.

Feyre hums in answer, her eyes widening innocently. Cassian stares in suspicion.

He watches as the others look to each other, too. Azriel to Mor. Mor to Rhys. Rhys to Feyre. Feyre to Amren. And then all of them look back to him.

It’s Mor who bounces brightly, “I want to go!”

“I’m going, too,” Rhys announces.

Feyre crosses her arms, “You can’t go. I’m going! Someone has to watch the baby.”

“Let Nuala and Cerridwen watch the baby! I’m supporting my brother.”

“I’m supporting my sister!”

“Oh, for cauldron’s sake,” Amren groans, “just bring the boy!”

Cassian frowns as they start packing up around him, yelling at each other for their coats and… baby carriers.

Amren only pauses to laugh at the look on his face.

“It could be worse, you know,” She says, her voice something she probably thinks sounds soft and comforting, “Tarquin could have already made some move. What do males say these days? Oh right, I want to get to know you or something equally as vomit inducing.”

Cassian simply picks up the throw pillow to his left and screams.

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

BONUS SCENE 1:

The evening of their first outing, Cassian can’t button his shirt. He should've taken that as his first sign that things would inevitably go wrong.

“Are the buttons winning?” Nesta asks lightly. Cassian huffs a curse, hiking the shirt over his head. It gets stuck around his neck and he groans out a response.

Fine, he thinks. I give up.

Nesta laughs at his slumping shoulders.

“It’s the wings,” He says, muffled through the cloth. His wings drift up and down as if huffing themselves, showing her that they too are thoroughly annoyed. “This shirt isn’t made for Illyrians.”

That’s a lie, but Nesta only hums.

“Well... as much as I like you topless and I do like you topless.” Cassian can feel her hands trailing up his ribs and he squirms at the ticklish touch. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for public outings.”

“You mean you’d be jealous,” He breaths. Nesta pulls the shirt down, unbuttoning and buttoning it again. His mate makes it seem far too easy, and she smirks up at him when the shirt is fully on. Her lips painted in red.

The fresh air is cool in his lungs without the noose of dress ware, and he winds his arms around her, breathing in her scent. “All those females looking. Males too. What would you do if they propositioned me?” He urges, holding her closer, bringing her hips to his. “Cassian, Cassian, take me in your arms.”

He dips her low as if they’ve finished some waltz, and lifts her high until her leg is around his waist. That’s when he notices the slit in her gown, running all the way up her thigh.

“They’ll chase me through the streets, you know. I’m a very hot commodity.”

Nesta doesn’t even laugh. In fact, she merely lifts her eyes, her expression blank in that very Nesta way of hers.

She fingers the collar of his shirt and Cassian can’t help but follow her hands. He thinks of every place those fingers can touch. “You wouldn’t be so difficult to catch. All it’d take is some buttons.”

Cassian roars with laughter and Nesta smiles at that. A small turn of her lips.

She turns back to the vanity, though he can’t say she’s not already perfect. He’s about to say so too, but that’s when he notices the dress.

It’s hugs her every curve... the way Cassian only wishes to hug her. The black brings out the gold in her hair, in her sun-kissed skin. There’s a slit, Cassian knows, and tiny, tiny straps.

Cassian moves towards her without a second thought. How anyone can think when they look at Nesta Archeron, he doesn’t know. He grasps her arms, dipping his head low. He places a reverent kiss on her shoulder and Nesta looks at him through the mirror, blinking up at him with those big, magnificent eyes.

They’ve never fucked in front of mirror before.

Cassian makes a note.

“You know, we can always skip this... thing. Who would even notice if we're gone?”

“Considering it’s for us, I’d say plenty.”

She says the words with enough disdain that Cassian frowns at the tone. She looks away as he catches her eyes.

“Do you not want to go?” He asks, dropping his hands.

“I want to get this night over with,” she says, with a certain bite that has him backtracking. He runs over the day and all things she can be mad at him for, but he finds nothing, so he doesn’t understand.

The night is for them.

To celebrate her more than anyone. There’s been so many celebrations for her these past months as if they’re making up for lost time. Cassian doesn’t mind. Nesta should be celebrated. And Nesta doesn’t seem to mind, though she’s rather quiet during those outings.

That’s not unusual.

He used to think Azriel was the most introverted of them all. But Nesta beats him by miles.

“Why--”

“I just don’t like that we always have these. Why can’t everyone just leave us alone?”

Cassian stares at her reddening skin. The way her eyes dart back and forth, trying not to look to him. His frown deepens at the way she hides.

He thought they were past this.

Cassian is the first person to admit that he doesn’t know Nesta. Not in the way he wants to and Nesta seldom tells him much. But he at least knows her well enough to know that when she gets upset, it’s rarely what she says it is.

So Cassian takes inventory.

They’re going to a get-together. They’ve done that before. They’re wearing formal clothes. They’ve done that before. They’re meeting the same people. Yes, that’s correct. The only thing that’s different is... the location?

“You have a problem with the restaurant,” he guesses.

Nesta merely lies her chin on her palm.

“It’s new... they have good food... so I hear. It’s got great music, which you like. It’s got a bar,” Cassian’s gaze whips to her, “Is it the bar?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but he can see the way her cheeks flush a bright pink. The color softens something inside of him, makes him want to hug her and hold her and get rid of every bad thought in her head.

The bar. Of course. He sees the way she cringes at alcohol, the way she shifts in her seat when a dinner turns into an after party. She doesn’t even like most of their holidays for that reason, because they all get drunk and she sits in the corner not knowing what to do. Nesta hates being embarrassed.

She can drink if she wants, he tells her, it’s her choice. They won’t judge her for it, he affirms, but... Cassian can’t guarantee that and Nesta knows that’s a lie. Nesta doesn’t even touch liquor.

Cassian feels his chest start to sink and he must show it on his face, because she scoffs.

It’s bad enough she doesn’t want to go to the city most days. She’s told him it’s because she’s scared to face who she was, afraid that she’ll be back there soon enough. Cassian can’t reassure her well enough. We can face it together, he says. We can face it all. But it’s been baby steps and these outings are the only times she pushes her limits.

Cassian shifts her around, laying his hands on her cheeks, rubbing at the heated skin. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want.”

“I don’t want to be a coward.”

Cassian shakes his head, “you’re not going to be one if you go and you’re not going to be one if you stay.”

Nesta sighs, and Cassian kisses her forehead because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to instill in Nesta that she’s the strongest, bravest person he knows. How does he convince her of a truth that’s so obvious?

She isn’t going to change her mind that much he knows, but damn him if he let’s her wallow alone.

“I won’t drink,” He offers, “We can play cards, dance a little... I promise I’ll try not to step on your toes again.”

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” She says, her lips pouting in that way that makes him want to kiss her nose and her cheek and every place that he can touch. “To have fun.”

“You are fun and I enjoy myself plenty with you.”

Little does Cassian know that the enjoyment of the night is him knocking back barrels of drinks, stripping to his underwear, and running head first through the streets.

To be continued...

LOL. This fic is insane. Because not only do you get snippets before you get the final chapter, you get snippets in the final chapters. Snip-ception.

Tagged: @my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @arinbelle, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, @angelicvoice19, @bo0kmaster69, @drielecarla, @generalnesta

I think that’s it. Also know that if you asked to be tagged on snippets, I am going to tag you MANY TIME throughout the day... so be cautious about that.

#Life's a Beach #my generic a** title #whatever I had to move on from it #nessian #nessian fanfiction #cassian #vidalinav writes #vidalinav #Nesta archeron #Tarquin #my Tarquin fic

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akaashisbabygirl · 4 years ago

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camboy part two

authors note: hehe i decided to leave you all on a cliffhanger once again. if you haven’t read part one i suggest you do so! i think my tags are working again so hopefully this can be seen in tags!! i’m sorry that i took forever to post this, i’ve been really busy :( now, if you would like a part three let me know!

words: 1840

pairings: camboy!akaashi x female!reader

warnings: NSFW, male vibrator use, female and male masturbation, mentions of sex toys, reader gets sad, akaashi gets sad, kinda angsty, leaves you on a cliffhanger

part one

“so...” akaashi’s voice spoke into the microphone sitting on the desk, “thank you all for your suggestions. i’m going to be taking them into consideration for my next video.”

he quickly turned off the microphone, stopping everything he was doing to check out the list of items people had suggested for him to use in his next stream.

a harness, blindfold, handcuffs?? he didn’t know how much that would work. he’d have to find a way to restrain himself without having to call someone else to do it for him. that would be tricky. some viewers even suggested he used some sex toys such as a vibrator because they wanted to see what akaashi would look like squirming and overstimulated. or some even suggested that he were to edge himself, not letting himself cum just yet. cat ears, a harness? the things people were suggesting to him made him really interested to see just how far they wanted him to go. maid outfit? he chuckled.

it would’ve been next to impossible for akaashi to hide all the clothing items from you, his roommate, the one person he has definite feelings for. he couldn’t just keep some women outfits in his closet - you would believe he has a girlfriend who you didn’t know about. and if you felt the same way about him, you would be upset with the fact that he never told you about being in a relationship.

he shivered to these thoughts. which is why akaashi kept the idea of just getting the simple items - cat ears, harness, a skirt, sex toys etc. at least he wouldn’t need to try and hide them from you.

if you had found akaashi’s secret sex toy stash on accident - he knew you would probably just brush it off, considering you know him and his hormones, and knowing he wasn’t taken by anyone, there really wasn’t anyone to fuck.

you see, akaashi isn’t the type of person who is interested in one night stands. yes, he had lost his virginity before his ex girlfriend, which he regrets very much. but now, akaashi was a grown man. he was out there looking for a relationship that he wanted to last for a long time, a relationship where he can properly love the person for more than just the sex.

a relationship that he wanted to build with you.

he left his room quickly as he heard the door shut, signalling that you were back home. he was excited to see you, yet, he hid his excitement from you.

“can you help me?” you asked, pouting softly. akaashi chuckled, grabbing some of the heavy bags from your hands, setting them down on the kitchen bench.

a soft pink blush spread across your face. he was so big compared to you, and you liked it. you felt so small next to akaashi, so tiny and adorable. and you know he liked that too - akaashi feels that he can be able to protect you because you’re smaller than him, but that’s just how he feels.

the next day, akaashi was out early to leave for work. the apartment felt cold and empty when you had woken up to the painful sight of the sun shining too brightly into your eyes. it would be one of those days which you had gotten used to overtime, where you would spend all day at home on your own, waiting for akaashi to walk back in through those doors once more. you waited, and waited, thinking of things to do could seem to make time move faster than it had previously.

by noon, you were sitting on your bed, laptop in your lap as you scrolled through your work, submitting it to your manager before he yelled at you. you sighed softly, in desperate need for a break. that’s when the idea popped into your head, to check if he had uploaded. seeing that he had, you smiled greatly. a smile of relief had sprouted over your soft cheeks. you slipped your sweatpants down, watching how the man sat on the screen, his cock already hard and noticeable in his boxers.

you almost drooled at the sight of his cock. it was pretty. if that was even a proper way to describe it. you watched as the man took his erect cock from his boxers, thinking about how it would fit inside of you. he was bigger than what you had seen and taken before, but he was the only man who made you drool to the thought of what it would be like inside of you. how your cunt would feel sucking him in, how he’d hit those spots inside of you that you could barely reach with your own fingers. you’d let him fuck you over and over again until you’d become dumb and unable to think properly, drooling all over the white bedsheets of your bed.

soft fingers rubbed your clit, tracing around your folds before finally slipping a finger into your wet hole. a hand clamped over your mouth quickly to try and surpass your moans as your hips bucked up for more friction. you chased after that one feeling that made you lose control every time, the feeling that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head. moans slipped forcefully from your lips, a wave of pleasure spreading quickly throughout your body from the feeling of your fingertips desperately trying to reach that one spot inside of you which always sent you over the edge.

however, what you didn’t know was that akaashi was in the apartment. his jaw had dropped quickly while hearing a moan slip from your lips. without having to look into a mirror to see his painful expression, akaashi could tell a tear had fallen down his cheek. he felt as if he was tied down to the ground by some invisible shackles, keeping him in place, forcing him to accept the reality that he did not want to accept. he didn’t want to stand there and listen to some guy fuck you, he didn’t want to hear you moan for that man, praise them and give them all your attention. selfishly, akaashi wished it were him.

slowly, akaashi made his way out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. he rushed to bokuto’s, planning to send you a message saying that he would be at work late. it was only because he was too scared to see you right now, akaashi was too afraid to see you. he didn’t want to see your fucked out expression. he didn’t want to see the man or whoever was making you feel this good.

and so he left.

when akaashi arrived home that night, he acted as if nothing had happened - and so did you. it made akaashi mad, knowing that he had clearly heard something going on in your bedroom earlier that day, but he didn’t want to sound like a jealous idiot and bring it up. which is why he chose to keep his feelings to himself as he sat beside you, watching the stupid rom com on the tv. he hated the fact that he felt as if his feelings were twisted into a tight knot that he couldn’t untie. there was so much love for you filling his heart that he could’ve sworn that at any minute his own heart would combust from the anxiety which danced around his mind.

akaashi knew that he needed to get a new video out, his fans were growing desperate and he was needing the money. he waited patiently until you had left the house, before locking the door to his room, changing up his setting to the camboy’s room.

time passed and quickly moans were spilling from his lips, his hips bucking up as his hands grasped desperately into the bedsheets. he chose today to incorporate a toy, a vibrator specifically, yet, he didn’t know that this much pleasure would spread through his body. he blushed from how he was moaning, he was so desperate, so subby even. he felt dirty, overstimulated from the way the toy was making him feel. his eyes rolled to the back of his head as another orgasm washed over him, his fucked out body falling to the sheets after taking the small toy away from his length.

he waited until his body filled with some energy before he got up from his spot on the bed, moving to turn his camera off. he quickly changed his sheets, accidentally forgetting to put his skirt away, before passing out underneath the sheets of his bed.

you smiled, seeing akaashi in his bed fast asleep. you could tell he was in a deep slumber from the way he clung to his bedsheets, not even moving a muscle. you adored the sleeping boy.

“he must’ve worked himself too hard today” you thought, knowing that akaashi never falls asleep unless he’s exhausted.

how you wished that you could go over to him and kiss his forehead, telling him to sleep well, or even that you could get into bed, wrapping your arms around him and falling asleep with his back to your chest. there’s so much you wanted to do, but akaashi wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t going to happen.

you grabbed your washing form the bathroom, a pale blue skirt catching your eye in the process. this wasn’t your skirt. who’s was it? your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, almost swearing that tears began to bombard your eyes as your mind came to realisation.

akaashi has a girlfriend.

you left the skirt there, pretending as if you had never seen it. however, the thoughts of akaashi being with someone else made you feel sick. soon enough, you were also curled up under the sheets of your bed.

days had passed, yet the thought of akaashi having a girlfriend didn’t leave your mind. you wondered what she was like. how pretty is she? how tall is she? what is her hair colour? what’s her style? or in general; what does she look like? you couldn’t find a part of your mind that wasn’t thinking about this as you made your way back to the apartment. you felt sick, almost anxious even being there. you felt scared, scared that you would run into the girl who had crushed your dreams of being with akaashi.

opening the front door to the apartment, you heard a loud cry coming from akaashi’s room. his door was slightly spread open, screams and moans coming from there. you didn’t care about the moans, why was akaashi screaming? rushing to his room, you shoved the door open.

but what you saw wasn’t what you expected.

“akaashi...” you noticed the familiar set up to the way the cam boy has. the bed, the walls, even the pretty skirts, some of the toys he’s brought out before sitting on the bed beside him, “what are you doing?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyū!!#haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #nsfw—🎟

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

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Trapped - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes “Hey, I'm absolutely in love with your Jesper fics (but your writing in general is amazing!). Could you write something about Jesper and the reader being stuck in a closet and confessing their feelings for each other if you like the idea. Love your blog!! 💖” Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader Summary: on a job, you and jesper need to make sure a merchant doesn’t see you. and the only hiding option is a closet which barely fits the two of you. Warnings: language, some suggestive themes ✨✨ but nothing actually happens Word count: 1.5K A/N: ahhh yes the Oh No We Are Locked In A Small Space trope. I love it. thanks for requesting this! also this took... a long fucking while to write sorry it’s so late, enjoy reading :) TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy TAG LIST (Jesper Fahey): @hswemadeit @mufnasa add yourself to my tag lists here

You’d much rather spend a friday night at the club, getting drink after drink and laughing with your friends. But Kaz had gotten into some trouble with a merchant, so now you’re in said merchant’s house in the middle of the night. Accompanied by Jesper, and looking for some papers Kaz needs to blackmail the merchant.

It should have been an easy job, and it was easy. Up until you had to actually get the papers. Both you and Jesper were convinced you needed a certain set of papers, and both of you are convinced you are right.

You’re arguing in whispers about which papers to take.

‘I’m telling you Jesper, we only need these.’ you whisper-shout at him, waving the paper in your hand in front o this face.

‘Wrong, love, we need these.’ Jesper whispers back, holding up a different paper.

‘No, Kaz said we needed the ones about his investments.’ you say. ‘No, we need the ones about his private money.’ says Jesper.

You groan in frustration. ‘You didn’t even pay attention to what Kaz was saying!’ you say. ‘We need-’

You’re cut off when Jesper places a hand over your mouth.

You mumble angrily, but Jesper is quick to shut you up with one warning look. And then you hear it too, footsteps coming your way. Your arguing had been heard by someone in the house.

‘Oh, saints.’ you mumble as soon as Jesper pulls his hand back.

You scan the room, looking for a way out. There’s only one door, but it’s too risky to open it, as it leads to the hallway.

There’s a window, but you’re on the second floor. Technically, a jump from that height wouldn’t be lethal. But there’s no time to pick the lock.

Then you notice a tall closet in the corner of the room.

You take the paper from Jesper’s hand and shove it in his coat pocket, along with the paper you are holding. Before he can say anything, you grab his arm and pull him toward the closet.

Just as you close the door of the closet, you hear the door of the room opening and someone entering your room.

You lay one finger on your lips to signal to Jesper to stay silent. He gives a single nod.

You try to concentrate on the sounds the person in the room is making, but it’s hard when you’re this close to Jesper.

His shoulder is pressed against yours, and the back of his hand brushes against yours. You can hear his breathing next to you, and try to prevent a shiver from running down your spine.

You tell yourself to focus on whatever’s outside the closet, not what’s happening inside it.

Jesper seems to be calm about. You sneak one look at him, and notice his are are fixed on the wooden door in front of him. He’s probably also listening to whoever is outside.

Both of you hold your breath when you hear the footsteps approaching the closet. You exchange a panicked look, but remain silent.

You see how the door knob rattles slightly, but then you hear a voice coming from another room.

‘Da? Are you there?’ says a girls’ voice.

‘Coming, darling.’ says another voice, coming from right in front of the closet.

You hear his footsteps retreating and moments later, you hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

You wait some more, to make sure he’s actually left the room, before you sigh.

‘That was close.’ you say.

You turn to look at Jesper. He’s still looking at the wooden door in front of him, and it looks like he didn't hear you. He didn’t have to listen for footsteps in the room anymore, so why was he so concentrated?

‘Jes?’ you whisper. You nudge his shoulder with yours and it seems like he's coming to his senses.

‘Hm, what?’ he says.

‘He left.’ you say.

‘Good.’ murmurs Jesper. He moves to open the door but when he pushes against it, it doesn’t open. He tries it again, and it still doesn’t move.

‘Oh no, no, no.’ he whispers, pushing against the door again.

‘Looks like it got locked when he closed it.’ you say.

‘Great.’ says Jesper. ‘My worst nightmare.’

‘I'm your worst nightmare?’ you say.

‘No.’ says Jesper. ‘Being trapped in a small space with you is my worst nightmare.’

You chuckle at his words. ‘Why?’ you say. ‘Am I such bad company?’

‘No, you’re far from bad company. But I say stupid stuff when I get nervous.’ he says.

‘And I make you nervous?’ you say.

Jesper nods and you smirk, trying to see where this would end.

‘I didn’t think anyone could make the Jesper Fahey nervous.’ you say teasingly.

‘Stop that.’ says Jesper, trying to open the door again.

‘Aw, am I making you nervous?’ you say, moving closer to him.

‘I said stop.’ says Jesper, making you laugh.

You move to try and open the door, you hear how Jesper sucks in a breath behind you. You feel how he is trying to move away from you, despite the fact there’s no room for it.

You squint your eyes as you look at the lock. ‘I can try to pick it from this side, but it’ll take a while.’ you say.

Behind you, Jesper lets out an impatient sigh. ‘Just get started. Quickly.’ he says.

‘What’s the matter?’ you say, bending down as much as you could as you start working on unlocking the doors. ‘Claustrophobia kicking in?’

‘I am not claustrophobic.’ says Jesper.

‘Hmm.’ you hum. ‘You seem very eager to get out of this closet for someone who is definitely not claustrophobic.’

‘It’s not the closet.’ mumbles Jesper softly behind you, but you heard him.

‘Then what is it?’ you say.

‘None of you business, just get us the fuck out of here, please.’ he says. ‘And stop moving around so much.’

‘Calm down, Jes. I can’t get a good look at the lock, so I have to move around.’ you say.

‘Then stop moving around too much.’ he says, sounding irritated.

You don’t know why he’s freaking out so much. You’d been in situations like this on jobs before, and you couldn’t see how this was any different.

As you continue to pick the lock, you can feel Jesper shifting uncomfortably behind you.

‘Quit squirming around, you’re making me nervous.’ you mumble.

‘Well you’re making me nervous.’ says Jesper irritably.

‘Relax.’ you say. ‘Almost got it.’

And indeed, the lock gives a soft click, and it opens. You let out a relieved sigh and straighten your back. You freeze when you feel something poke in your back.

Before you can say anything, Jesper has opened the door and rushed past you, into the room.

You slowly step out of the closet, looking at Jesper’s back. He’s got his hands pressed against his face.

‘Oh, fuck, fuck fuck.’ he mumbles over and over again.

‘Jes?’ you say cautiously. ‘You okay there?’

‘No.’ he says, still with his back to you. ‘No, I am not okay because that was fucking embarrassing and so not okay.’

‘Jesper.’ you say. ‘It is a completely normal reaction to being trapped in a small space with someone as gorgeous as me.’

You can see how Jesper removes his hands from his face and places them on his hips instead. You’re surprised he doesn't flirt right back. Normally, he always does. This must really bother him.

‘Jesper.’ you say. ‘Please look at me.’

It takes him a while, but eventually he turns around to face you. You can’t help but to notice the blush on his cheek.

‘It’s alright, I promise.’ you say. ‘You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. I actually didn’t mind being trapped in a closet with you. And you kind of told me you did as well, without using your words.’

‘Oh god, that sounds so gross.’ says Jesper, chuckling lightly.

You’re pleased to see he can still laugh.

‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’ you ask.

‘It never seemed like the right time.’ says Jesper. ‘We were either running away from someone shooting at us and you’d yell insults at them and I'd go ‘wow that’s one hell of a woman’, but we’d be running for our lives. And on the moments it seemed like the right time, like when you’re sitting on the bar laughing with Nina, I didn’t have the guts to tell you that I’m in love with you.’

You smile brightly at his words and step closer to him. Jesper didn’t back up. ‘You did just tell me.’ you say.

‘I did.’ he says. ‘It’s not like I could, uh, hide it any longer.’

You laugh and luckily, Jesper laughs as well.

‘How about we just get out of here? We’ll take both of the papers and have Kaz figure it out.’ you say.

‘Only if you let me buy you a drink at the crow club.’ says Jesper.

You smile and stand on your toes to softly kiss his cheek.

‘I take that as a yes.’ says Jesper, grabbing your hand and walking toward the door with you.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#oh no! locked in a closet! hmm I wonder what could happen hehe #jesper fahey #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Jesper Fahey x reade #Jesper Fahey fanfics #Jesper Fahey fanfic #Jesper Fahey fanfiction #Jesper Fahey fic #Jesper Fahey fics #Jesper Fahey oneshot #Jesper Fahey oneshots #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

Text

The General (part 9): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: nothing is the way it was before. there is no future; there is no past. all there is... is nothing.

wc: 2.1k

tw: light gore

masterlist

“She’s not gonna eat; I already told you that.”

The sounds of Kaori and Toji fighting just outside of your door leak into your room, but you’re beyond caring. Megumi sits beside you in the sun-lit room, eyes scanning the outdoors, looking for any sign of an animal. You’re tucked underneath a warm, thick blanket, despite the temperature outside being warm enough to cause a little sweat. No, things were better this way.

When you had come to after blacking out, Toji, Kaori, and Megumi were hovering over you, trying to figure out what to do about the General’s untimely passing. But in the two months since, no one had quite figured out how to bring you back to life. The only thing they could do is watch you slowly waste away and become a shell of your former self.

Your parents suspect it’s because your princely husband had not sent for you since the war had ended, and you’re grieving a supposed loss. But neither Kaori nor Toji had the heart to admit that this loss wasn’t supposed. It was real.

Your days are spent in your bed or in the garden behind the house, mind empty as Megumi attempts to watch over you and possibly even cheer you up by play-fighting with his father. But more often than not, you’re reduced to tears, and Toji fetches Kaori because he “can’t deal with crying women”.

“My lady?” The head maid enters into your room with an orange and onigiri in her hands. “I brought you some fresh fruit from the market. Hamai sends her regards as well.” Hamai - Yuta’s sister and wife of Yuko - had also attempted to visit you, but her grief motivated her to knock on your door, and you couldn’t bear to think of Yuta or Nanami or--

“Thank you,” you croak, and she nods, handing Megumi the two onigiri.

“Your father said you’d better eat these or he’ll never--”

“‘Feed me again’. I know,” Megumi chants monotonously and takes the rice balls from her hands. “Thank you, Kaori-san.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any visitors?” Kaori asks for the third time. You cut your eyes to her, attempting a glare. “Hamai would love to come and--”

“Listen, the lady said no visitors,” Toji gripes, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “I’ve been fighting off a ton of measly looking men who have nothing to say except ‘I’ve come to see Lady y/n’ and honestly, if you invite another person to this damn place, I’ll kill them on the spot.”

You roll away from the two people and look out of the window, remaining silent as Megumi eats his onigiri and stares at the bears and tigers in his book. Kaori and Toji retreat, restarting their squabble as soon as the door closes, leaving you to think about nothing and no one.

_______________________________________________________________________

You’re in the garden when Megumi runs up to you, holding a light pashmina to cover your shoulders in the chill of fall.

“Careful, you might get sick,” he warns, and you accept the article with a smile.

“Thank you, sweet one.” The child climbs onto the bench you’re seated on, swinging his legs while you stare at the shishi-odoshi in silence. You’re suddenly reminded of the three other sweet children you left back at the camp, and before you can begin to sob out loud, your hand flies to your mouth.

“Hey,” Toji appears from the house, hands deep in his pockets as he surveys the area. “You alright?”

“Just fine,” you whisper, pushing back tears and grief all at once. “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

“Yeah, gardens will give you that.” Toji stands beside the fountain and stares into the water for a moment before turning to Megumi. “There’s a frog out by the lake if you’re interested in--” Megumi hops down from the bench and disappears around the corner in a flash, abandoning you without a worry in the world. You sigh, watching him fade into the distance, and then turn to Toji, who is already staring at you with some unreadable expression.

“What is it?” you grumble, blinking slowly.

“Nothing, just…” Toji presses his lips together and looks sky-ward, thinking about his next words carefully. “I know you feel like everyone in the whole world can fuck off since Geto died… but have you ever considered moving on?” You tilt your head to the side, wondering if Toji really ever listened to himself talk. “I mean, yeah this shit is painful, but…” Toji rubs his neck and looks away from you and back to the fountain. “You have to move on at some point.”

“He told me to wait for him,” you explain, wrapping the pashmina a little tighter and squinting at the shapes in the pool. “I’m going to do just that.”

“Y/n, he’s dead… what good will waiting do? Will you wait your whole life?”

Your head snaps to Toji and you curl your lip up in disgust.

“You’ve never loved anyone in this world but yourself and your money,” you spit, standing from your seated position so fast that Toji takes a half-step back. “I don’t imagine that you’d know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s not true,” he retorts, frowning. “I’m trying to help you, that’s all. I’d hate to see you waste away over a man who can’t even survi--” The pashmina falls from your shoulders as your hand makes contact with his face, the echo of the slap scaring a flock of birds from the surrounding trees into the sky.

“Speak ill of Geto again, and I’ll make sure those words are your last.” Toji doesn’t touch his bruised cheek as you stomp off, watching you retreat back into the house as he realizes that he let you slap him.

_______________________________________________________________________

Screams haunt your sleep, fire burns the camp, and you’re running away, holding hands with the children as you dash into the forest. Geto is behind you, fighting off some unknown assailant, but you instinctively know how the dream is going to end.

You trip and fall over a root of a tree, but you yell at the children to escape. They continue running, not sparing you a second glance, but you turn around just as Geto is stabbed through the chest by a spear and falls with his back to the ground. His head tilts back and he makes eye contact with you, blood pouring out of his mouth as he chokes:

“Wait for me.”

You shoot up in the bed and stumble out of your room through the sliding door that leads to the garden, sweat pouring down your neck and back as you sink to your knees. Your stomach heaves once, twice, depositing yellow bile into the bushes beside the house. The sun is barely up, and as you dry heave, you hear another door sliding open, Toji then Kaori tumbling out of your back door.

“Poison,” Toji grunts, but Kaori pushes him aside before he can get to you.

“No, she didn’t even eat anything before bed,” she states, rubbing your back with her cool hands. Your skin clams up as a breeze rolls across the garden, and you shudder violently before your teeth begin to chatter. “Toji, a blanket.”

“Isn’t that your job?” he gripes, but walks into the house to grab a blanket anyways. When the cloth resta against your back, you feel a little better, but the feeling in your stomach won’t go away.

“My Lady… talk to me. What’s the matter?”

“Go,” you shake Kaori off, not wanting to repeat the events of your dream.

“It’s probably because she didn’t eat,” Toji groans, the stairs squeaking under his weight. “I’ll get her a --”

“Both of you. Go.” You look up at Toji, mustering your sternest look, and aiming the same expression at Kaori, who walks away from you, head hung low.

You stay in the garden as true morning crests over the sky, lying on the bench under the bare cherry blossom tree while the skies turn into pinks and yellows, and reds. The image of Geto’s bloodied face wouldn’t depart from your memory and you feel the ache even deeper than before. The ache intensifies until it feels like all of you is just one large hole, throbbing with need and grief.

Nothing could save you.

No one was coming back for you.

They were all dead, and there was nothing left of the people you had grown to love and care for.

It isn’t until your mother walks into the garden that you realize you might have missed your breakfast of an orange and water, but she comes bearing the fruit and you’re set back at ease. You wordlessly allow your mother to sit beside you, lifting your head so it rests in her lap snugly. She pats your hair gently, then inhales deeply, speaking in her normal soft tones.

“Kaori told me you were sick last night,” she begins, and you nod as if she had asked a question and not stated a fact. “Ever since Geto Suguru died, you’ve been awfully sullen. One might think you had been with him the whole time and not at the Imperial Palace.” You glance up at your mother, and she winks at you. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell your father.”

“How did you know?” you wonder, and she smiles, wrinkles forming at the edges of her mouth.

“Well first, whoever the General gets to write his letters needs to brush up on their penmanship,” she laughs, then shrugs. “But it was your face the day that the General was announced dead that I saw you change. It only took me a few days to realize that you were in mourning, not upset that your prince hadn’t sent for you.”

“Mother, I--”

“You had every right to keep it a secret, although I wish you hadn’t. It would’ve made my interrogation of Toji much easier.” You imagine your own mother - all of five-foot-four, standing up to the massive Fushiguro with a finger to his chest - and you can’t help but chuckle. “Whatever the General did, I haven’t seen you glowing like you did when you returned since you were a little girl. I’ll have to find a way to thank him for that.”

You choke out a deep sob, closing your eyes as you think of the lack of tribute, the lack of a funeral, the missing images of him that won’t return to your memory.

“Though Toji takes good care of you. I haven’t seen that man slack off on his job once since after the announcement. He’s also been very helpful with your father. You know, he would ma--”

“Lady y/n!” Kaori sprints out of the home, and you both look up to see her flustered expression, wondering what would have her so worked up this early in the morning. “There was a messenger from the Imperial Palace in the square!” she stops in front of you, panting heavily. “The Emperor… has fallen… ill.” When she catches her breath, the head maid can finally finish her statement, and she exhales deeply. “As is custom, his eldest son will be taking a tour of the country. And he’s named this village as his final stop, with your house as his resting place for the time he is here. He’ll be in the village in a fortnight.” You sit up, eyeing the maid carefully.

Pieces of a puzzle begin to click together in your mind.

“His eldest son is Prince Naoya, correct?”

“Yes, my lady.” As if sensing your premature plan, Kaori looks you dead in the eyes, daring you to do what she imagines you are already thinking of.

“And you said a fortnight?” Your mother butts in, squinting her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Fourteen days to prepare.” you whisper, lifting your head out of your mother’s lap and retreating to the house to find the eldest Fushiguro. Kaori enters behind you, grabbing your elbow before you can open his guest room door.

“What you’re thinking of is suicide,” she hisses, but you shrug.

“What better way to rejoin Geto than to kill his murderer and then die myself?” you retort, but she slaps a hand over the gap between the wall and the door, blocking you from entering.

“This isn’t what he would want,” Kaori pleads. “Please, think about what he said.”

“I cannot wait for a dead man, Kaori. Now, let me go.” You yank free from her grasp and enter the guest room, eyeing a lazy Toji lounging by the window. “I need your help.”

He rolls his head around to look at you and raises a brow. “With what, my lady?”

“I need to kill a prince in two weeks. Think you can help me with that?”

“You mean treason?” Toji sits up, letting the book he held in his hands drop to his bed, and hums thoughtfully. “Killing a prince as revenge… putting the Imperial Court into chaos… yeah, I think I can help you with that.”

_______________________________________________________________________

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