#and stand there brooding until he's not mad anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

summerlovingbaby · 2 years ago

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Two Lonely People

a you shouldn’t be lifting things.” Eren scolded her, snatching the piles of wood from her hands, and shoving them haphazardly at Y/N, who happened to be standing behind him at the time. “ You’re still recovering.”

He was right, she was still recovering. But so was Y/N, who almost got bitten in half by a Titan, sacrificing herself to save Eren’s ass. She always sacrificed hersef for him, and it was a habit that none of the other cadets could quite understand, even after they found he could shift into a titan.She had been thrown from a horse and hit her head, been nearly squeezed to death and almost got stepped on. All to save Eren, who still either hadn’t acknowledged it or even noticed.

She was managing just fine, until Eren haphazardly bumped her, and rammed her elbows into her sided. Y/N, grunted and fell backwards landed on her but with a thud. She bit her lip, trying not to let out a pained squeal. The wood clattered to the floor, followed by Armin who dropped to his knees to help pick up the wood logs that Y/N managed to drop.

“ Careful Y/N, we’re running low on resources!” Armin chided her like a mother.

“ Right sorry.”

But a mother would notice that she was hurt, and noticed just how much pain she was in. Armin quickly stood up and placed the wood on the counter before chiding Mikasa, who seemed completely fine, for overworking herself.

It was nearing noon, in the little cabin that the brand new Levi Squad had found and made themselves a home. Eren spent most mornings training his titan form and caring for Mikasa, who was too busy caring for Eren to be cared for. There was a nearby stream and wood, that was so loud it made the world seem quiet. Hange and her squad were doing secret scouting missions, and Levi spent the better parts of his day in solitude, Y/N could only imagine brooding and thinking of profound things to get mad at.

It was nearing Lunch, which meant Levi would be coming back for his daily inspection, and the house was anything but clean. Even by Erens standards, and Eren was hounding people to keep cleaning.

Eren started to drag Mikasa back to her room so she could rest, and nearly tripped over Y/N, who couldn’t find it in her to stand up yet. There was a dull ache in her chest and a burning sensation in her stomach. His eyes fell down at her, he looked disgusted with the sight of her.

“ What are you doing?” he asked. His mouth formed into a thin line like he ran out of patience. “ Why are you on the floor?”

“ I-”

“ Mikasa has been pulling her weight and she probably broke her ribs. All you’ve been doing is sitting on your ass doing absolutely nothing with that pathetic look on your face, and I’m getting tired of looking at it.”

The door creaked open, and in came Sasha, Jean and Connie who were carrying food rations. Sasha more than her fair share, and her and Connie were arguing about it. Jean had been ignoring them for the last 3 minutes and didn’t plan on listening in now,

“Eren I-” she started to say. She would normally slap that smug look off his face, but she couldn’t find the energy to fight anymore.

“ Don’t “Eren” me. How about you get off your lazy ass, and clean like your actually worth something.”

The room was silent, even Connie and Sasha managed to stop arguing. Eren could command a room when he wanted to, and right now he was radiating a rage that made the air fall silent and his blood to run cold.

A hand went to Y/N’s mouth, but the sudden movement caused a shooting pain to stab her through her side and she gasped slightly. Eren looked down at her one last time and shook his head and scoffed, he turned on his heels and walked away. Armin trailing after him like an abandoned dog, calling after him.

Y/N sat there on a ground, unable to look up. He was right. She was worth absolutely nothing compared to Mikasa. Mikasa was beautiful in ever single was a person could be. Her hair was dark and beautiful and her eyes told a story that anyone would want to sit down and listen to.

Y/N eyes only held sadness and a deep longing to be wanted and loved the way she loved Eren. Y/N wanted the kind of loyalty she showed Armin. Eren was right, she was worth nothing, she would never be as pretty, or a skilled, and even if he noticed her, which he never did, he would never look at her the way she looked at Mikasa, and that made her feel like a broken teacup that nobody wanted.

Eren didn’t even notice, that was hurt. Y/N was sure that Mikasa did, but made no effort to extend her a helping hand, and Armin either didn’t care of didn’t notice, and she couldn’t tell what option would hurt more.

“ I am worth something.” she whispered quietly to herself, like it was a lie she was trying to convince herself of.

Everything hurt, her stomach hurt, and her chest felt like it was stepped on by a 16 meter titan, she couldn’t breathe and the room felt suffocating, she was suffocating.

She tried to get up before falling back down again, this time making no effort to how much pain she was in. She groaned loudly and clutched her stomach, and fell flat on her back. She started to cry, something she hadn’t let herself do in years.

Connie walked over to her, and fell to her knees, he tried to touch her hair but she pulled away.

“ Y/N.”

“ Just give me a second.” she spoke through ears, trying to wipe her tears. “ Just give me a second, and I can clean up.”

Connie remebered that she was hurt, and he wasn’t even there when she got thrown from the horse, and nearly stepped on. Connie was a friend could notice when something was wrong, and something was horribly wrong.

“ Y/N calm down.” Connie said again.

She was anything but calm, and was struggling to breathe properly and holding her stomach, hoping in all the commotion she hadn’t torn her stitches.

“ I’m worth something.” she whispered to herself over and over again, like she was trying to believe it herself.

The door snapped open so hard it bounced off the wall, followed by harsh footsteps from Captain Levi, who didn’t notice Y/N either, just walked over to the table and ran his fingers along the underside of it.

“ You call this clean?” he asked, he took another step forewards and tripped over Y/N, who heard Levi come in and clamped over her mouth to stop crying, which hardly worked, because all you could hear wear muffled groans.

“ What the hell-” he looked down, and saw Y/N, with a pathetic glint in her eye, trying her best not to spontaneously combust. ‘ What are you doing on the floor?”

“ I fell.” she whispered. “ I’m sorry.”

He looked at her made a small disapproving noise and motioned for Connie to help her get back up, and take her back to bed where she she should be lying down. Even the captain, who looked completely disinterested on a good day, knew that she was hurt, and made a effort to care for her. Something that her friend, Eren , who she considered a best friend didn’t. And that made her more upset then ever, she covered her face with her hands to stave off the embarrassment, but it was too late.

She was already bleeding, and was pretty sure she tore her stitches, and in a shit ton of pain, and wanted nothing more to be held. Connie whispered something about it all being okay, but Y/N couldn’t hear it over the sound of her own heartbeat, which was deafing.

Jean stopped Connie and nodded at him, and Connie pretended to sweep again to calm the Captain who looked less than amused at the mess in the kitchen.

“ I’m sorry.” Jean whispered. He pulled Y/N up by the arm and helped her stood up, her body felt like jello, and it became very clear that she had no intention of walking anywhere with anybody. “ I know it hurts, but it’ll all be over and a few minutes.”

He scooped her up from under her knees and carried her towards the back door. She grunted, Why was he taking her outside, she wanted nothing more than to crawl and bed and die. That was all she was worth after all.

“ I wanna go to bed.” she whined.

“ Just trust me will ya?” he asked sweetly.

Jean was a cocky boy and would do anything to prove that he was right or better than someone. Expecially Eren, who had a excissevley slapable face. He was a better man than Eren by a mile.

He carried her through the forest, to a small stream and loud waterfall. The sound made her want to cover her ears, but she quickly grew accustomed to it. She liked it, it was so loud that she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts. Jean sat her down on a rock by the stream and she stared at her reflection, so engulfed with the woman that she had grown into, she didn’t even notice Jean re-wrapping the bandage on her arm.

“ I think I tore my stitches.” she whispered.

“ You didn’t I checked.” he muttered.

They were so close he could hear her over the waterfall, and his nose was tickling her ear.

“ You were supposed to be taking it easy.” he said.

“ I wanted to be helpful.” she whimpered, she winced slightly.

“ Are you in pain?” he asked, knowing that she was in a world of pain, but asking in the vain hope that she wasn’t.

“ Am I worth something?” she asked.

“ I think so.” he said. He finished wrapping her bandages. “ I think so at least.”

“ I’ve done everything for him.” she stared at the sun, hoping it would blind her.” I’ve given up my entire life for him, ever since we were kids I’ve given up stuff just to make him happy and he doesn’t even care.”

“ I get it.” he laughs. “ Boy do I get it.”

Y/N snapped her head in his direction, and looked at him. What could he know anything about not being a choice at all. He knew nothing of betrayal and being ignored and he knows nothing about the gut wrenching feeling that the person you’ve built your life around hates you.

“ Mikasa.” he laughs.

“ The other woman.” Y/N replied. “ The other goddamn woman.”

“ I think I’ve loved her since the day that I’ve met her and I almost died for her and she is still obsessed with that self obsessed suicidal maniac who can’t dig his head out of his ass long enough to even notice what a great girl he has.” he stared at his refection and then looked away, he hated the way that she made him feel. Like a empty shell undeserving of love. “ Sorry, that was uncalled for.” Eren was alot of things, and a man in everyway Jean felt he wasn’t.

“ Why did you bring me here?” she asked. She became used to the sound of the waterfall echoing around her, and the sound quickly became soothing.

“ Its the best place to yell at god. And I felt like yelling.” He looked at the cloudless sky and there was nothing to block the blinding light of the sun. But he didn’t mind the fact that it blinded him, and he had alot to say at god.” Screw you god.” he whispered.

“ You call that a yell?”

He wanted to yell but didn’t have it in him anymore. He was so beat down and all his energy was drained from loving someone who took and took without so much as as a thankyou.

“ I have nothing to say to god.”

Y/N stared at her reflection and Jean stared at the empty forest. The yellow sun bounced off his head and made his face seem like he was glowing. His big brown eyes told Y/N he was a good guy if not hidden. But Y/N knew everything about hiding. She spent her whole life hiding.

Jean sighed loudly and forced himself to sit up straight.

“ Eren of all people has no right to determine your worth.” Jean spoke. “ Eren doesn’t deserve your love.” he whispered. Her expression turned into a wince at the word. “ You do love him right?”

“ I don’t even know what love means.” she replied. She stuck her hand in the chilled water, causing the surface to ripple slightly. “ Do you?”

“ I think love means loyalty, and sacrifice, and respect and trust.” he speaks. “ That’‘s what my mother told me.”

“ Mikasa doesn’t deserve your loyalty.” she whispered.

She jerked her hand out of the water. She hated the cold feeling on her fingertips and longed for warmth. Y/N didn’t think that she deserved to feel warm so she stuck her hand back in.

“Eren doesn’t deserve your trust.” Jean said back. He faced her and watched her expression turned into one of mourning, she bit her lip and sniffled.

“ I wish he did. God I he wish he did.” she muttered. She laughed to herself. “ To be honest I wouldn’t trust Eren to milk a cow if I handed him a bucket.”

Jean smiled a little bit. Eren was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve the attention of any girl let alone, one of the only people that he cared for in this miserable crappy world. On missions his mind would often wander to “ Why was he still fighting?” His father abandoned him when he was a child, and his mother was bound to die any day now, he was just waiting for the letter to know that she finally kicked the bucket. But he thought of his friends, the ones that would die for him, so he kept fighting, Because they deserved a better world to live in.

“ Mikasa is about as loyal to a paper bag to anyone except Eren, even Armin.” Y/N said. “ Don’t give her your loyalty she doesn't deserve it. She hasn’t earned it, not from you.”

“ I don’t deserve much.” he laughed.

She turned towards him and touched his thigh and squeezed it. He deserved the world if only he wanted to accept it.

“ You deserve a lot.” she whispered. He looked at her, his big brown eyes were so sweet it made her feel like she had to look away. The feeling of looking at anyone else but Eren made her chest feel on fire.

He took his finger and lifted her chin, and placed his lips on hers. She didn’t pull away and the feeling of him felt better than the feeling of being ignored and she didn’t mind it. Jean was warm and sweet and no matter how hard he tried to deny it painfully sensitive and empathetic.

Everything that she wanted, and everything that she needed.

He pulled away very suddenly as if he realized what he was doing or someone lit his hair on fire. The sun shone through the trees and spread warmth along the back of his neck.

“ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” he turned away.

“ I think I trust you.” she cut him off.

He stopped slouching and sat upright. He turned and looked at her, the idea of anyone but Mikasa felt completely forgin to him, he never even considered it an option.

“ I respect you.” he said. He grabbed her hand that was still placed on his thigh and squeezed it. It was cold bu he didn’t care. “ And I trust you.”

He took his other hand and stroked the side of her face, his hands felt warm and welcoming and she wanted nothing more than to be welcomed.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

“ I’m willing to figure it out.” she whispered. “ I don’t mind... the feeling of this.” she added. She looked foreward into the empty abyss of the pond.

So there they sat, holding hands, desperately hoping that someone would love them the way that they loved other people, not realizing that they weren’t accepting the love that was right next to them all along.

taglist

#attack on titan #aot x reader angst #jean kirschtein x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan head canons #levi attack on titan #attack on titan reiner #attack on titan jean #Jean Krischtein #jean kirschtein imagine #jean x reader #jean kirschtein headcanons

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago

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okay I’m sorry but I need to post another for the tgif sleepover 🙈 you’re Bucky’s secret wife . Absolutely no one knows about you cause Bucky feels safer knowing nobody has access to possibly hurt you due to him being an Avenger and ex assassin . But someone on the team catches Bucky talking on the phone laughing and smiling and to see the brooding super soldier like that is alien . So , I’m thinking Sam and Nat , decide to investigate . They follow him to his apartment one day and since they’ve come out empty handed they decide to just go up and confess what they’ve been up to . When they knock on the door , it’s you opening it and both of them are dumbfounded . You’re just kindly standing there asking how you could help when Bucky emerges , rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow . He still hasn’t seen them saying “Who is it sweetheart?” and then his eyes go huge when he says his two close friends at the door , mouths ajar . Sam is the one to speak saying “Man when did you get a girlfriend!?” and you interject biting your lip and smiling, Bucky already having a hand around your waist cause there’s no point hiding anymore “Wife actually” and if it’s possible their mouths open even wider 😂 -♟anon

This request is amazing!

the secret reveal

summary || you, the princess of Asgard, are Bucky’s secret wife.

warnings || it’s just totally funny.

I’VE COMBINED IT WITH THIS REQUEST.

“I barely made it this time! Loki’s really suspicious now.” You pouted as you complained to Bucky. “I know doll. The team’s are getting suspicious too.”

“Do you think we should tell them?” Your eyebrows were raised with worry. “It’s better for your protection if no one knows.” He responded as usual.

“Bucky! You and I both know I’m capable of defending myself. But at this stage, I’m worried that they’ll get mad at us for keeping this a secret for so long. And… Loki is going to get upset.”

“Loki loves you, he’ll understand it.” You were on the verge of crying and Bucky pulled you into his chest. “Don’t cry, we will find a way out of this.”

He lovingly kissed your forehead and smiled through the tears. “Now, I think we should wisely utilise the limited time we get to maximise our opportunities to have fun.”

You began giggling and Bucky smiled with you. “You’re a dork and I love you for it.” He just kissed you in response and started removing your shirt. “I don’t know what that means. But I love you too.”

~~~

“WHERE IS SHE?” Loki entered dramatically into the avengers tower. Currently, only Nat and Sam were there, who were busy in their own business, so Loki’s entrance was kind of wasted.

“Woah man, calm down. Who are you talking about?” Sam asked and Nat was on high alert at the return of the god. “Don’t act so surprised. Your tricks won’t work on my. I know my sister’s on Midgard.”

“She’s not here, someone’s told you the wrong address.” Nat said sarcastically. “And even if she was here, she would be with us right now. We’re best friends, ‘unlike a certain someone who isn’t interested in friendship with mortals’” Sam air quoted.

Loki squinted his eyes and thought for a second. If you were here, you would definitely be chatting with them or playing some games.

“But we kind of do know where she is at the moment.” Nat said pointing at the tablet in her hand. “Where?” Loki asked with uncertainty.

“With Bucky!” Sam said excitedly. “You don’t mean the metal armed human, do you?” Loki hoped you weren’t with who he was thinking. “Yup. That same guy.”

“No no. It can’t be!” Loki was in denial. “Even we didn’t know until a few hours back. We usually heard Bucky talk to someone hours on end on his phone and I did hear him mutter her name once, but I though I was mistaken. But then today morning I made redwing follow him and we saw him with her.”

“Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY?” Loki shouted in the empty walls. “We will take you there only if you promise to behave and not throw tantrums like a kid.” Finally giving in, Loki nodded, “fine.”

~~~

You were just about to remove your pants when there was a loud banging at the door. You pulled away from kissing and just stared at each other for the moment.

Someone was banging on the door like a madman instead of ringing the doorbell. “Who the fuck is banging the door like that?” You were honestly irritated.

“Literally something or the other has to happen when I and my husband are about to have some mind blowing sex. I swear to god Bucky, I’m going to kill whosoever it is.”

“Calm down. It might be the neighbor. I’ll see.” You both started redressing while the person kept on knocking the door.

“Are you planning on breaking the door? Who the fuck do you think you are?” You screamed loud enough to the person on the other side to hear.

The banging stopped for a moment before starting with fervour. “Doll wait! Let me see this.” Bucky knew not to mess around with your anger.

“No no. Bucky, I’ll see for myself. You’re too kind sometimes.” Though Bucky might seem intimidating, he was honestly the sweetest guy you knew. You strutted towards the door and finally opened it.

You were about to curse some more but your mouth ran dry when you saw who was on the other end. Loki was fuming when you finally opened the door and behind him, Nat and Sam were standing with hands folded.

“I cannot believe this! Woah! Barnes you’re a lucky bastard!” Sam cheered and Natasha smiled along. While those two seemed happy, Loki was still staring at you with fury.

“That I am!” Bucky said as he joined you. Though his smile instantly dropped when he saw Loki standing at the door.

“You vile mortal!” Loki pounced on Bucky, but Bucky was a bit prepared for it and wasn’t really surprised. “How dare you?” Loki tried punching Bucky, but he easily stopped him.

“When did you even start dating?” Sam asked almost uncaring of the fight going on. “We’re actually married!” Bucky said in between blocking Loki’s punches.

Loki was stunned to such an extent at the confession that he stopped at the stop. “You’re what?” He asked looking at you. “Umm… about that. I was going to tell you.…”

“You got married? You married without your beloved brother? I had dreams for your marriage. It was supposed to be grand and beautiful. The halls of the palace were supposed to be decorated with your favourite flowers… and you just married without even telling me?”

Loki was openly crying now. You were always his favourite sibling and the only one he ever protected rather than attack. Loki was your closest sibling too, since both of you were adopted into the family.

“I’m sorry. I just thought you wouldn’t approve of Bucky and so I kept it a secret. I wanted to tell you! I really did. But I knew you’d get mad and you wouldn’t let me marry Bucky.” You began crying and Bucky was quick to hold you close.

“Do you love him so much that you can’t stay away from him?” Loki had suddenly calmed down after seeing you cry. “Yes! Bucky is a good man, Loki. And I love him.”

“Do you love my sister, and you better say yes.” Loki asked threateningly to Bucky. “I love her, more than probably anyone has ever loved someone else. And I’ll keep on loving her forever.”

Loki looked at how at sync you two were. Bucky was soothingly rubbing your arm and you almost melted in his embrace. “I trust you. I trust you to choose the right man.” You almost stopped breathing when you heard Loki.

“So… so you approve of him?” A bright smile had replaced your previous frown. “I do. If you’re happy, then I’m happy too!” You ran over to him and hugged him.

“Thank you! Thank you so much Loki!” Loki held you close before pointing his finger at Bucky. “If you ever, even slightly hurt my sister, then I’ll hurt you in ways you haven’t even thought of.”

“I promise I’ll never hurt her.” Bucky vowed and Sam slapped him on his back. “Now that was a secret even I wasn’t aware of.” Nat tried to lighten the mood.

“But there’s only one request from my side.” Loki declared and you all paused. “You both need to marry again with all the celebrations and I get the first invite!”

You all laughed and nodded along. You were so glad to have your entire family back. “Loki, you aren’t getting the first invite because you’re the one planning the whole event!”

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

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Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o replacing them with a plushy

request; Rantaro, Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o giving them almost 0 attention because they’re giving all their love to a plushy? Lol no cuddles for them- plushy’s too cute

warnings; fluff, lots of cussing, unedited, gender-neutral reader, implied human strangulation, strangulation of a stuffed animal, stuffed animals, jealousy?? minor neglecting, comfortyyyy, angst but like, so little angst, hard days at work :(

note; i didn’t do Rantaro’s because i did something similar, right here! also, sorry for making fuyuhiko’s so much longer— i don’t even know why i wrote that much, i have no reasoning-

Kokichi Ouma

“S/oooooo~? I’m cold, can we cuddle-?” Bright purple eyes widened, and a look of pure unfiltered betrayal dawned over his face, it almost looked as if you had poured the expression over his face. His eyes darted towards the plushy in betrayal; his expression almost convinced you that you had accidentally cheated on him. “K-Kokichi? What’s-” You were suddenly very rudely interrupted by his obnoxious shriek of horror—

“UWAAAAAAH! You’re-!” He snortled like a child, inhaling in all his snot loudly and grossly before screaming, “So! Mean!” Wincing at the loud and exaggerated sobbing, you frowned at him, only bringing the plushy closer to your chest. “You can’t guilt me into hugging you instead, Kokichi- Hey— Hey! Stop!” Before you could finish your sentence, Kokichi had pounced on you, his devastated expression from earlier long gone, as now his eyes shone pure rage.

He was strangling the fucking stuffed animal.

Kokichi may be the hugest liar you will ever meet in the world, but he keeps to his word, that he’ll do anything for love. Even strangling someone.

And in this case, the ‘someone’ was a lifeless stuffed animal.

“K-Kokichi! You fucking dumbass— What do you think that’ll even do!? Kill it!?” You cried out, straining as you tried to yank the plushy away from his iron grip. “Stuffed animals can’t breathe!” Kokichi replied in between grunts, white knuckles gripping the plushy tight around its.. its neck. “Not after this, it won’t!” Cackling victoriously, the gremlin finally managed to pull the plushy away from, and the extraordinary momentum had thrown it across the room.

“Kokichi! That was my favourite-” Your words had been taken away from you as Kokichi suddenly jumped you, tackling you to your bed as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. “I thought I was your favourite..” His voice was soft, the innocent, puppy-dog tone almost had you cave in. Almost.

“Kokichi…” You whined, “I want my plushy back; you’re too heavy.” Kokichi pinched your back, prompting a squeal out of you, “I’m not heavy, you meanie!” You squirmed, sitting up with the boy clinging to you on your lap. “You didn’t have to pinch me, you ass.” Mumbling, you shuffled up, chest feeling as if it had been crushed by the boy sticking to you.

Kokichi didn’t reply to your insult, instead, shifting closer to you before stilling, almost like dried clay. “Nishishi! Now you’re all mine!” You stifled a smile, “What? Were you jealous of a plushy?” Kokichi shook his head, grin wide and bright as always, “Of course not! It never had a chance against me so I wasn’t even a little worried!” That was a lie. He was scared if you had gotten too attached to the plushy, you’d rather the plushy’s hugs instead of his—eventually, never hugging him again. Kokichi shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t know, the plushy doesn’t—you know—pinch me so..” Kokichi gripped tighter onto you, making sure to prevent your leave before sighing dramatically, “Fine, I’m sorry, okay? Now just promise to always hug me instead of that stupid pillow, kay?” Kokichi spoke in an annoyingly cute voice— but despite being shrill to your ears, you couldn’t help but melt as you heard the real meaning to it. The meaning behind his little act. In a frustratingly teasing voice, you tantalized him. “So you were jealous.”

Kokichi snorted dismissively, grip not loosening, “Nishishi! Why would I be jealous of a plushy? You’re lucky to even be touching an Ultimate Supreme Leader!” It was ironic, seeing as how you hadn’t even been hugging him back, let alone touching him—to which he had painfully noticed, and disliked. Yet he was acting like you were the one who had been strangling a toy for him.

His grin faltered, and you could catch the almost unnoticeable flash of jealousy that shone in his purple eyes. But despite the small tell, you let him win this round, you neglected him enough. you neglected him for less than a minute before he pounced on you, mans was insane.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

Fuyuhiko had just gotten back from a rough day at work, he sighed as he opened the door, he was extremely exhausted from doing— what was he doing? Well, he’s a Yakuza, that’s a secret. “S/o, I’m home..!” His voice sounded drained, though relieved, he was finally home and all he wanted was to cuddle you— Ah. But it seems you’ve chosen a plushie over a real-life man.

Fuyuhiko’s eye fell on the sight of you, snuggling a plushie whilst you watched a movie. He pouted, he was always the one you snuggled. Betrayal ran through his veins; what had changed? Did you not love him anymore?

No, I’m kidding; he’s just being a drama queen.

Despite his sulky demeanour, he refused to beg for your attention just so he could get your.. your soft and warm cuddles... that make him feel safe no matter where he was.

... Well, he tried to refuse. It seems, even Yakuza bosses couldn’t refuse the uncontrollable want to be in your arms. Could you blame him? The man just wanted to be held by his partner.

He wasn’t going to admit that though. The boss baby had too much pride to demand cuddles, unlike Kokichi-

So he decided, you were going to be given the silent treatment. Yes, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the ultimate Yakuza boss was planning to give you the silent treatment(and fail). It didn’t seem like he needed to anyway, you had been so invested in the movie you didn’t even hear him come in, nor did you greet him like you usually did. Sheeesh, that one must have hurt.

Fuyuhiko furrowed his brow and waited for you to notice him, dropping his shoes on the ground twice. It wasn’t until he started jangling his keys aggressively and slapping his bag against the counter, did you actually notice his presence. After you finally did, you spared him a meek hand wave before bringing the same arm back around your plush tightly. “Oh. Hey, Fuyu.”

You didn’t even turn your head to look at him.

He simply stared at you, you who had just snuggled closer to your plushy— were.. were you giving it head pats!? His frown deepened, you were just doing it on purpose at this point.

Scoffing, he sat next to your spot on the couch, glaring daggers into the plushy as you seemed distracted with the TV in front of you. He felt his heart sink as you didn’t cuddle into his side like you usually did. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned into the armrest opposite to you, feigning a grudge.

He couldn’t even get comfortable on the armrest, he kept shifting every 5 seconds just to get your attention and because he really couldn’t seem to get comfortable on the chair. Fuyuhiko watched you with wide, astounded eyes as you only seemed to stuff your face in the plushy. And yup, you guessed it, he caved in. “Tch... if you’re mad at me for something, can you just tell me what I did wrong? This... plushy bull crap is irritating me.” You turned your head to finally look at him in surprise, he thought you were mad at him?

“Huh?” You perked your head up from the plushy, attention completely on him now. He felt embarrassment wash over his entire body; had you not been doing it on purpose?

“N-nothing- whatever, it’s nothing.” Fuyuhiko’s face flushed, your sudden attention on him; he hadn’t gotten used to it.

Drilling your eyes into him, you sent him an unconvinced look, but shrugged anyway— He’s a grown-ass man, if he wanted cuddles, he can ask for them.

Fuyuhiko sulked as he watched you turn away, it obviously wasn’t nothing. You turned your head back at him as you heard him mumble something. Looking at him with a feigned-confused expression, you cocked your head to the side. “What’d you say?”

He flushed and looked away, unconsciously scooting towards you, “I- You can cuddle me instead of that pillow, if you want or whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He murmured, moving to stand up. “Never mind.” You grinned at his brooding demeanour, yanking his hand back onto you and throwing the plush somewhere, “Okay, okay! I was just joking with you, I know how much you want my hugs.”

He fell with an ‘oomph’ against your body, face blank as his mind didn’t seem to register what had happened yet.

Ohh, but the moment he felt the warmth spread throughout his body, he let out a sigh of relief. “You’re such a cute fucking asshole.” You laughed at his somewhat compliment, somewhat insult, letting him wrap his arms around you tight. You could feel his body relaxing on top of you, and in response, your own shoulders dropped in relaxation. ‘Yessss..! This was the shit.’ Fuyuhiko’s bad day at work had been long forgotten, as his mind was currently occupied with running thoughts of you.

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hargrove-mayfields · 4 years ago

Text

Back when things were still easy, Billy and Max used to have sibling days on the weekends when Neil wouldn’t be home, setting aside their issues to have just one day that was meant for doing something fun together.

The tradition had been dropped after the move to Hawkins, and Max thinks that’s where a lot of the strain on their relationship comes from. Without those designated times to let go of some of the tension building between them, they fall to pieces.

There’s one day in particular where it’s just Max at home all by herself, her mother and Neil having gone on a trip to the city she opted out of, when Billy shows up much earlier than he said he would be back, ruining the calm when he slammed the front door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall.

Neither of them say a word to the other, all she gets is an apologetic and glossy looking glance for the noise as he storms past her like she isn’t even there.

She doesn’t see Billy again for a long time after that, just hears the angry music blaring in his room. By now, she’s wisened up enough to know that meant he was probably crying in there, and though she doesn’t know what happened, she feels bad.

It’d been far too long since they acted anything like real siblings, not that they were actually related, but they used to be just as close, so after her brother’s been brooding for literal hours, she knows she wants to do something.

Her opportunity to bring it up comes when Billy makes his grand appearance at her door, stopping by to ask if she ate dinner just so he, quote ‘wouldn’t get any shit for it.’ She nods in agreement and asks, “Do you know what day it is, Billy?”

He shrugs, “28th of June.”

“Well, doy, but it’s also Friday.” Billy raises an eyebrow, missing the point, and Max rolls her eyes. “Friday. You know, like, the one day we get to hang out.”

Too cool for that stuff anymore apparently, he scoffs and leans against the doorframe, and she just knows he’s going to say something snarky, so she turns the puppy dog eyes up a notch, “Please? It’ll be fun.”

It works, Billy sighs way over dramatic and steps into her room, throwing himself down onto her beanbag chair. She can’t contain the smile on her face when he asks with fake defeat, “What did you want, shitbird?”

“I want a makeover day. Like we used to do.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why?” She crosses her arms, “Just because that’s what I want to do?”

He fixes her with a look that says ‘seriously?’, and explains, an edge of frustration to his voice, “No, because you know what’ll happen if I’m struttin’ around in nail polish and shit when Neil gets back.”

“They’re not supposed to come back until like, Monday though,” in response to her excuses, he mimics her in crossing his arms over his chest, so she tries harder to reason with him, “And we can always just take it off when we’re done.”

“That’s just a waste of your stuff, then.”

“Come on, Billy, please?” she’s out of actual arguments and he’s winning, so she brings out the big guns, the little sister privilege, the one surefire way she knows will always knock her brother off guard, “I miss you.”

He squints at her, seeing through the attempted guilt trip, but he can’t muster a frown, and he must know it wasn’t all fake, because he says, “Whatever.”

She knows that’s his version of a yes and he’s just too proud to admit he caved, so she squeals and claps her hands together, taking off like a shot to dig under her bed for the stowed away beauty kit. It’s a little wicker basket filled to the brim with nail polish and makeup, the same one they’d used years ago before everything went wrong, and it makes her happy, bringing the old thing back out.

She stops to put a record in her player, choosing Queen as the closest thing to a middle ground between their respective music tastes, they at least both weren’t supposed to listen to it, and drops down into the other chair beside Billy.

On the latch-hook rug in front of them, she starts to empty the basket, lining up all her brightly colored bottles of nail polish, slightly dried out after months of not using them. “What color?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Billy asks. All Max has to say in response is a know-it-all “Because I said so.”

“Fine. You pick.” The moment he says it he looks like he regrets it, Max is notoriously bad at making decisions, but she ignores him and starts holding up bottles anyways.

First, after few minutes deliberation, she chooses a pretty dark green, and he scrunches his nose and doesn’t say anything. She picks a purplish color, which he tosses away on the bed, a very firm ‘no’ that makes Max giggle. Then she gives him a bright orange bottle, and he holds in front of his face, studying it before turning that one down too.

“God, if I knew you’d be so annoying I would’ve just painted them all the colors.” She remarks, lining up her polishes so she could do just that.

“That’s actually probably not a very good idea, kiddo.” Looking a little panicked, he digs through the bottles himself, settling on one he pulls away and stares at for a second before handing it to her and telling her, “Just do ‘em red.”

It confuses her, but she agrees regardless, and makes him turn in his seat so he’s facing her and his hands are flat on the floor. His hands are a little shaky, so her paint job isn’t the best, she even drips some on the carpet, which she hopes her mother won’t notice, but Billy doesn’t say anything about the mess.

With his nails done she moves onto his hair, she wants to do double braids like how he taught her to do in her own hair, so she shoves his arm to get him to turn around. “Scoot.”

He lets her push him around until he’s in the right place that she can reach his hair, but once he’s facing the far wall he tells her, “Don’t you dare use that brush on my hair, Maxine.”

“Jeez, relax. I’m not gonna mess up your princess curls.” She mocked, but she still went for the comb to run through his hair instead.

She waited until she could get it through without catching on any tangles before bothering trying to talk to him. When Billy was upset, he tended to clam up, but she didn’t particularly like feeling awkward in the silence, leaving all the talking to the record player. “Can we talk about why you were mad earlier?”

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if I told you about my day?” She tries, but he shuts it down again with an “Unlikely.”

“I’ll tell you anyways.” Max didn’t know what had happened with Billy, but she knew she hadn’t had the greatest morning herself either. “I had to ask Lucas to bring me home early because me and Mike got in a fight.”

Billy snorted, and spoke with just as much sarcasm as Max had used on him. She learned that from him anyways. “You and Mike? No.”

“Yeah. He was being a total ass about El, trying to like, own her or something, so I told him to lay off ‘cause that’s totally not fair.”

She knew that Billy, having graduated and turned 18 now, was probably getting a little old for this type of drama, but he was a good listener, no matter how much he pretended not to care, always giving little bits of insight and saying things to make her laugh.

She continues, “Well, anyways he like, totally bit my head off for sticking up for her, so then I told him he was just a miserable mouth breather who’s jealous of El being happy, and he tried to kick me out.”

Billy laughed at that, muttering a little ‘ow’ when the action made Max pull his hair, “But you left before he could kick you out right?”

“Duh.” She sighs a little, the fun part of the story over. “Then when we pulled up outside, Lucas said something stupid about it being my fault or whatever, so I dumped him again.”

“Good. I told you not to take any shit from them anymore.” Billy had been less than happy with her friends a lot recently, when she’d come home from school or from hanging out upset over something they said. They never meant to hurt her feelings, but Billy didn’t like it all the same, and made her promise she’d stand up for herself a little more. Like she did to him.

“Yeah, I guess.” It makes her feel light on the inside, to know Billy was proud of her for following his advice, in his own way at least. “So? What happened to you?”

He shrugs again, and blows her off, “It’s nothing.”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah, and it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not,” she fumbles with the braid and loses it, Billy’s stupid uneven mullet making it way too hard to braid so many different lengths of hair, “But I’m like, an expert now. El says she likes my advice.”

Under his breath, Billy mutters, “‘Course she does.”

Max purses her lips and pretends she didn’t hear that before continuing her offer, “Anyways, I can always try to help.”

“Listen, it’s just stupid dating stuff. Nothin’ you need to be worrying about.”

“But I’m a girl. I can give advice about that.” She thinks about it for a second, “I mean, I know more about being a girlfriend than having one, but it’s probably about the same.”

“Maybe.” Billy mumbles, focusing all his attention on picking at the nail polish that had missed the edges of his nails, and just from the way he tensed up she can tell she’d overstepped Billy’s boundaries in some way or another.

She finishes of the braid she had already started over twice now and puts a blue scrunchie on the end of it, giving him a minute.

When she starts combing out the rest of his hair is when Billy speaks again, not a drop of his distinctly Billy attitude in his words as he admitted softly, “You know, shitbird, I never said anything ‘bout having a girlfriend.”

That’s confusing to her at first, because he had just told her it was a dating thing, but Max’d been hearing all the nasty things Neil said about Billy for years now, and while she might just be a kid, might be the clueless and annoying little sister, she still knew the weight of what he’d just admitted to her.

It had always made her sad, to know Neil didn’t really like Billy, all the mean words he used, ones she wouldn’t dare repeat, to describe Billy and his friends, all the lies he told about him behind his back. But she doesn’t buy it, what her asshole step-dad had to say.

Her brother was cool, and she liked hanging out with him, when he wasn’t being such a jerk. The fact that he had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend didn’t change that in the least bit.

She hums, trying to gather words and, her voice strained against the outburst of happiness, says “See? I can totally help with boy stuff.”

#billy hargrove #max mayfield #billy and max #harringrove #it’s implied harringrove at least because Steve is the boyfriend in question #story by ej!#ej writer #this is really sloppy but I wanted to just get this outta my drafts so here ya go #it was also initially from a much larger story #I just decided this was the only part I like #if you take note of the date tho I think y’all can probably tell where I was going with this #just wanted to write Billy coming out to Max because we as a fandom kinda decided that she already knew bc of that one vague convo #but like that stuff is really hard to pick up on when you’re the clueless little sister #(trust me lol)#I think it’s more something like maybe she snitched on him for doing smthn neil knew was Bc he was gay but she didn’t #and she never put the pieces together until he told her #featuring (subtle) autistic Max bc when doesn’t my writing #and colorblind Billy if you squint with the nail polish

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hellothere-generalangsty · 4 years ago

Text

Fives - Anchor

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 1450 words

CW/ TW: Angst; mourning/loss, death, letter, anniversary, pain, brooding, it’s very heavy and sensitive so please proceed with caution and let me know if I didn’t TW something you deemed necessary; also a bit more hopeful/ light toward the end because my heart couldn’t handle that much sadness tonight

Tags: @chaoticvampirejedi @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @tacticalsparkles @imalovernotahater @canwestayinthisdream @wakeupjackthisisntfair @namesmox @badbatch-simp24 @lightning-wolffe @maddieskywalker @for-the-love-of-clones @m-e-w-117 @99squad

@ladykatakuri @firelordillyria @andiebell2023

Notes: I guess I missed him a lot tonight… Sorry for the pain

Some elements included in this fic are inspired from chats I had with @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s ; thank you little moon for being an inspiration to me 🌙

Iridescent - Linkin Park

0000.

Happy anniversary Fives.

Though I don’t see how it could be happy, when you’re everywhere but here. I never grew used to your absence, I never could; not when you’re haunting my every move, haunting this place and this world, finding your way back to me through faint memories and thousand of faces walking up to my office every day, asking me about my day and if I feel well.

I have to look at the ghost of you, every single time, and lie.

“I’m fine. What can I do for you?”

And I hear your voice again, and again. It tells me about the pain running through your back, the nightmares hitting harder than usual, and the fear eating you alive every time you get out of your hard, cold bed.

But it’s not you. It never is. I never could be.

I stopped buying your shampoo. I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the bottle we had in the shower. It’s still there, hidden somewhere in the bathroom, waiting to be emptied and thrown away carelessly, in such a mundane way one could so easily forget about it. But I can’t throw it away; it’s not mundane anymore.

I hid the jewels too, except for the bracelet. I hate to wear it, but I hate even more to put it away. I just feel…I feel naked when I don’t have it, and empty when I do. I can’t help but see you – feel you – through the shades of blue and black. What was once the purest blessing turned into the worst curse, and I can’t break it. I almost did – breaking the bracelet. I almost did.

I could if I really wanted to; but then I would lose you again, and I just…

I gave your aprons to the boys. I couldn’t stand to see them, neatly hanging in the kitchen. They were silly anyway, and I had no use for them. I’m a doctor after all, not a cook.

I published my thesis on the clones’ rights, and it is being presented to the Senate by Senator Amidala as we speak. I told her I wouldn’t be able to be there for her discourse, and she simply hugged me. I wish she hadn’t.

0527.

It’s been a year, yet it feels like yesterday. Everyone moved on; everyone but me, and I can’t help but be mad. I am mad that they forgot so easily about you, that they brushed you off as “another collateral damage”, another…clone. It’s the way they say it when they try to comfort me.

You were more than a clone. More than a soldier, and more than a man.

You were Fives.

You were my anchor, and I was your ocean.

I miss the way you said it. Coming home to me, tired, features drained and eyes darkened by the horrors of your latest campaign; but always soft and caring through the hoarseness of your voice as you whispered it against my skin. You always found a way to be there for me; for everyone, even when you were losing yourself in your own prison.

I am mad at you because of that. Because you couldn’t stand back for once, be egoistic and think of yourself instead of trying to play the hero in the dark. They killed you because you didn’t wait, not even when I asked you – begged you to. I am so angry because I called you an idiot, and all you could answer me was “I love you too, my ocean. My anchor.”

You didn’t even let me say it back.

1134.

I am mad at myself. You trusted me enough to tell me everything, and you knew I would believe you. And when you tried to do something about it, I called you an idiot. I wasn’t even there with you; I should have been there with you. I could have saved you.

Fives…

I remember the first time you came home. At the time, it was still “my place”, but the moment you stepped in it stopped being mine only. I always told you to come by if you needed; and the one time you did, we ended up laughing so hard the neighbour had to knock at the door. But it felt good. I guess that day I gave you a part of myself, and you carried it with you ever since. I suppose it died with you, too.

I know I shouldn’t be so broody; I can almost hear you, your chuckles filling the room, your hands pressing down my shoulders as you tell me “it’s a celebration, smile for me!”; and the smell of that shampoo tickling my nose as you come close to lay a kiss on my cheek…

But now the only thing I can feel are the tears, and that twisting ache in my chest, burning my skin and ripping my lungs apart. I can’t even breathe correctly anymore, I…

1745.

I’m sorry I had you waiting.

I fell asleep on the table, and woke up because of the cold. It’s always cold in here now. I borrowed one of your old sweatshirt - I hope you don’t mind. I kept them. I almost gave them to the boys, along with the aprons; but then I thought they could always come in handy.

They do. When days like today happens; days where I feel too lonely, where I miss you too much and it just feels too cold, I slip into one and hold it so close to me it almost feels like you’re here. My arms become yours, your faint perfume comes back to me fresh and soft, and I sometimes swear I can feel your warmth against my skin. I close my eyes when I do that, and it stops being a dream for a second.

For just a second, you’re back. You never truly left.

And when I open my eyes again; when I realise what it is all about, I still feel you. I see the bracelet, smell the black tissue, watch one of these B movie we used to laugh at and somehow I feel the best and worst I’ve felt in a long time.

I wish you were here. I wish I could tell you how much I missed you and how beautiful you are; if I could hold you tight, one last time... I didn’t even get to hug you one last time. I didn’t know it would be it; else I wouldn’t have let you go.

Echo is supposed to come around today. He told me he would. He didn’t forget about you either, you know. Neither did Rex, or Jesse, or Kix. Your vode didn’t forget about you. They always make sure to keep you alive, tell everyone about you and remember them of who you were.

Echo always says you’re his best friend. He never uses the past tense. I can’t blame him; I still say you’re the love of my life whenever people ask me. I guess we know deep down these things will never change. We don’t want it to change.

Wait, someone knocked.

2226.

When was the last time we laughed like that? For once, we turned the tears into something better; lighter. I’m sure you would be proud of us.

Of course, you would be proud of us.

It almost feels good to see you through Echo; to find glimpses of you in his smile, the faint spark in his eyes when he retells your best pranks, and the way he chuckles...I almost feel at home right now. With you. Not quite, but close enough.

Enough to make me smile, for the first time today.

Echo says hi. He’s watching me writing to you. He asked me to tell you that Rex lit a candle for you this morning, and the boys had a little something for you; but I can’t know what; apparently I “wouldn’t understand anyway”. So I hope – we hope – that you liked it. We’re probably going to watch a bad movie and mock the poor acting until we fall asleep, and tomorrow we will…We’ll probably think of you again, but hopefully there won’t be as much tears as today.

I guess it’s a battle worth fighting. Not for the Republic or the Greater Good; not for the Senate or the Chancellor. Not for the Jedis or the Galaxy.

No, it’s a battle we fight for you, Fives. Let us be your anchor, for once, and rest easy now, because more than anything or anyone else out there… you deserve it.

2359.

Happy anniversary Fives.

I love you too, my Anchor.

- Your Ocean.

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #fives #arc trooper fives #letter #echo #arc trooper echo #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #fives my beloved #Sad Hour for Fives #again i am sorry for the pain #mesa writes #tcw fic #sw fic

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charliedawn · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine being Spike's closest friend/advisor in love with him and him being completely oblivious about it

" Spike ! Where are you ?! We need to talk to you !"

You find the vampire in his crypt, his eyebrows barely raised in surprise.

" Y/N. Buffy. What a surprise ? So, what can I do for you on this fine evening ?"

He says with a small sarcastic smile. Buffy rolls her eyes and sits in front of him with her arms crossed.

" We need your help."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up in curiosity and the corners of his lips raise up a notch.

" The hunters want my help ? Well..Isn't that good news ?! Oh goodie ! I get it that my head gets to stay attached to my body another day.."

You sigh, not because of his sarcastic answer you had grown accustomed to, but because you know that deep down ? He is truly excited. His brain already calculating how to turn this situation to his advantage.

" So, what's the job ? Vampires ? Demons ? Witches ?.."

He asks with the back of his head resting on his hands and waiting for Buffy or you to spill the beans.

" Vampires. In your territory. We know you've been hiding some of them.."

Buffy cuts straight to the point and Spike arks an eyebrow, smiling innocently.

" Sorry. Can't help you. I don't know what you're talking about..Maybe you got the wrong vampire for once ?"

Buffy raises an eyebrow as well before crossing her arms on her chest expectantly.

" Blond ? Spiky hair ? Dark and brooding ? Nah. I think we got the right one. Now, where are they hidden ? Spill it out, or you get the stake."

She gets her stake out to show that she is serious, but Spike only chuckles as he stands up to look down at the slayer, his shirt barely protecting his ribcage frown the sharp end of the stake.

" Is that a threat or a promise ?"

You can see that Buffy is biting her lower lip, she is actually tempted to ask Spike for a moment after this..But then her eyes fall on you, and she knows that she can't do it. Not now. Not when she knows that you've fallen for him. Spike and her have passion, he is amazing in bed of course..but what you feel for him, it makes her think of what she feels for Angel. She can't do it. She takes a step back, but it's Spike that takes a step forward to whisper seductively in her ear.

" What do you say, if I help you, you give me a kiss ?"

You grit your teeths and finally snap, you take him by the shoulder to spin him around and punch him in the face. His eyes widen significantly in shock as he doesn't understand. You realize too late what you've done and take a couple of steps backwards before apologizing.

" I..I'm sorry. I need to go."

You run outside of his crypt and Spike turns towards Buffy for an explanation.

" What's gotten into her ?!"

Buffy sighs loudly in exasperation before answering the question of the perplexed vampire.

" You're an idiot, Spike. She likes you."

Spike doesn't seem to understand and frowns before repeating incredulously.

" She..She what ?"

Buffy pinches the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb, wondering how the vampire could be so daft sometimes.

" She. Loves. You. Spike."

She finally says. But, the vampire only blanks out for a moment before stammering again, wondering if he heard her right.

" I..I beg you pardon ? Her ? Me ? No. Can't be."

He shakes his head negatively and Buffy rolls her eyes before taking him by his black coat to push him forward.

" Go talk to her, you idiot ! Before you lose her !"

He is about to go when Buffy sighs again as he seems lost. She grabs his arm and asks him with a worried frown.

" Wait. What are you going to do ?"

He shrugs before getting out of her grip and replying with a small provocative smile.

" I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her until she likes me again."

Buffy's eyes widen, but before she could stop him, he's already gone. She only humphs disapprovingly before crossing her arms again.

" Don't blow it, Spike.."

She mutters before turning around to go search for the rest of the hidden vampires on her own.

You are running with glassy eyes, filled with tears. You know that your action was rash, impulsive..You can't even explain why you had acted like that. It wasn't you. You continue to run aimlessly and blindly through the tombstones until you hit something and fall backwards. When you open your eyes again, you see that you had collided with a man, a vampire to be exact, that smiles evilly as he looks down at you.

" Well well..Dinner is served it seems."

You look around frantically for your stake, but just as you are about to grab it, the vampire spots it first and stomps on it, breaking it in two. He then grabs you by the throat and seems amused by your attempts to breathe. You try to wiggle out of his grip and scream, but he covers your mouth and laughs darkly as he recognizes you.

" And not any dinner..A hunter at that..I've seen you run around with the other slayer in and out of Spike's crypt. Where are your friends now, slayer ?"

You feel your heart quicken as he opens his mouth wide. You close your eyes, but then a familiar voice interrupts the moment.

" Turn around."

The vampire has just the time to turn around that Spike stakes him. You hear his scream, but are too tired to open your eyes. Spike is by your side in a minute and carries you in his arms.

" Hey ! Stay with me, slayer ! You hear me !"

His voice is the last thing you hear before blacking out. Spike carries you back to the Summer household where Buffy quickly takes care of you. He wants to stay by your side, but Buffy gives him a stern look.

" Don't you dare, Spike. You are not welcomed in this house. This is all your fault. I don't want to see you ever again."

She slams the door in his face and her words sting him deeply, more than he cares to admit. But, he understands her anger and turns around to return to his graveyard. However, he lets out a shaky sigh first before looking up at your bedroom window. He can't even count the times you had opened your window for him, even when you knew how dangerous and unstable he was. Spike doesn't have any friends. But, if he could call someone that ? It would certainly be you.

The moment you wake up, you look around to see that night has fallen and Buffy is nowhere to be found. You don't wait for her before grabbing your vampire hunting gear and running outside to find Spike. You know that Buffy is going to be mad at you for meeting with him, but you have to tell him. Tell him that it wasn't his fault. Tell him that you had acted without thinking. Tell him that he is the only person who makes you laugh and brings a smile to your face when you're having a bad day. Tell him..Tell him..You have all those memories that suddenly come to you, memories of when Spike knew exactly when you needed to be cheered up and would stand in front of your window until you would allow him in. Memories of when he had scared the hell out of Buffy and Angel when paying you a visit and making them think that he was going to suck your mom's blood, only for you to intervene and save him..Memories that should be enough, enough for you to let go of him. Unfortunately, it only makes things worse, having to tell yourself every single day that what you are feeling is only a small crush, that it would go with time, only to come back stronger than ever every single time your eyes meet his. You finally get to the graveyard and stop when you see him, leaning against the door of his crypt, smoking, as if waiting for you.

He doesn't move, even though he heard you approach, and throws you one of his half-hooded glances that always makes your heart beat faster. That burning gaze, but so cold at the same time..Intense and sad, so very sad. You feel goosebumps forming on your skin at the simple eye-contact, and you haven't even spoken a word yet. Eventually, he smirks knowingly at you before throwing his cigaret to the ground and stomping on it.

" What do you want, newbie ? You came to check on me for Buffy ? Well, you can tell the slayer that I am still as dead as the day we met..Also, glad to see that you're still breathing. Not that I cared, but I wouldn't want the slayer to come knocking on my door, yelling how I killed her best friend."

He says with a mocking grin, but you're no fool. You see this gleam of hope in his eyes, hope that the other slayer is finally acknowledging him as a potential ally. Maybe knowing that Buffy is finally seeing in him someone dangerous enough to be looked after would mean that she would finally come knocking at his door with more than threats and insults ? Maybe she would even grow to like him ? Maybe..But, you know that it is only a dream. She would never love him. Ever. And no matter how dangerous or important he becomes, she would never consider him as anything but a threat, a nuisance. Sad. Especially since you know that he is a good man, but with a high taste for women that would never feel the same about him..

You sigh and answer with a small smile translating pity.

" No. I need your help."

He smiles, but you can still see the deception in his eyes.

" I see..And I guess that the slayer doesn't know you came here, does she ?"

You shake your head negatively and he sighs before leaning against a nearby tombstone.

" Fine. Tell me. Why would I help you ? Besides my usual loving kindness ?"

He sneers, but his eyes translate a certain curiosity as to why indeed you would set foot in his graveyard in the middle of the night. You walk forward until your noses nearly touch, your face a few inches away from him. Even if Spike can't breathe anymore, hasn't been able to for a long time, he can still feel his heart stop in his ribcage at your sudden closeness.

" W..What are you..?"

He starts, but is cut off by you slowly raising your hands on each side of his face. He closes his mouth in surprise and doesn't dare move, even when you lay your forehead against his.

" Here's what I want your help with, Spike. I want you to be happy, Spike. I don't care if you are a vampire, a demon, a monster..You stay someone who the Summer family learned to appreciate more than you know..You've helped them countless of times, more than anyone. Now, it's your turn. Let me help you. You need to concentrate on yourself. And I don't mean the emotionless cruel monstrous vampire with a tendency to speak in sarcasm, but Spike, the romantic poet, the sensitive artist, the one who speaks with his senses and who used to know how to see beauty everywhere.."

You trace your fingertips along the interior of his forearms, his biceps, his neck and end your path on his cheeks. You then see something akin sadness in his eyes. He's shaking and raises his own hands to take yours. He's finally letting his true emotions out and looks up at you with all the misery he feels painted in his beautiful dark eyes. And you smile, knowing that it is the true Spike that you are now facing..

" Here he is. The true Spike..William."

You say while tenderly stroking his cheek. However, he suddenly kneels on the ground, his head hanging low as he cries out.

" She'll never love me like this ! She loves the other me. The bad guy. The heartless vampire. The monster that makes her feel in danger and who is useful to her ! I have no choice. Otherwise, she would have discarded of me a long time ago..She wouldn't even have spared me a second glance before staking my heart !..Not that she hasn't already.."

You look at him with eyes full of sadness before kneeling in front of him. You then force him to look up at you and say without an ounce of hesitation.

" Then, she is the monster."

His eyes widen at your words and you grab him by the arms to force him to stand up with you as you explain.

" Think about it. She is killing someone by preventing you to be yourself. She's killing William, only leaving Spike. At the end, she would have stolen your heart and your life. Let's face it, Buffy will kill you if you are willing to give her everything you are. The true question is, will you let her when the time comes, or will you fight ?"

He clenches his jaw as he stares at you, wondering why you would be so determined for him to live ? Could what Buffy said be true ? He shakes his head..No. It couldn't be. He finally answers you with a sorrowful resolution.

" What is the point of living if love isn't there ?"

You suddenly frown and to his utter surprise, slap him. It takes a while for him to get over his shock, you take the opportunity to shake his ideas straight. You wouldn't let him die.

" Don't you ever say that again ! Ever ! Don't say such nonsense ! You've already fallen in love before, Spike. Three times. And you'll fall in love again ! Again and again ! You'll continue until you finally meet someone that will finally understand how extraordinary you are and how lucky they are to have you ! One day, you will get our of that grim graveyard and that day, you'll see Buffy for who she really is ! Just another woman that couldn't see the luck she had to have you ! Tall, handsome, downright dreamy guy with amazing hair !.."

He laughs at that last part and you smile, at least you could still make him laugh.

"..But you have to stop wanting to put an end to your life just because she was not the right one !"

Suddenly, Spike loses his smile and glares up at you before standing up and shouting angrily.

" When ?! Huh ?! When will I meet that miraculous person that will make my miserable life a bliss ?! I only fall in love with destructive women, cruel and manipulative temptresses ! Women that only use me or make me want to throw myself off a bridge ! I only know the dark chaotic love, the kind that makes you drown with the goddamn ship !"

His breathing quickens as he tells you his grief and curse. You wait patiently until he is finished before finally replying.

" Then, let's do it together."

Spike doesn't understand at first, he frowns in incomprehension at you while you intertwine your fingers with a smile, even with the tears that are rolling down your cheeks.

" Let's jump from a bridge together. Let's drown together. Let's die together if that's the price for you to love me.."

Spike finally understands and looks up at you with something new, close to pity but also linked with self-hatred for letting himself be moved by you, out of all people. He wanted Buffy to be here, saying those words..and yet, he can't help but be helpless as you utter those words, he wants to believe them so bad..but he can't. He knows you. He knows that you would do anything to help him, even pretend loving him. He wants to step back, run maybe..but you don't let him go. You would never let him go when you know that he may never come back..You insist, taking a step further towards him so he can see the determination in your eyes.

" Since neither of us will ever find love or peace. And since you have the firm intention to put an end to it all. Then let's do it together. This way, I'll stop waking up in the middle of the night, sweating and panting with only one thought: Is he okay ? That way, I won't have to stop myself from killing Buffy every time she tells me how much of an idiot Spike is to think she would ever love him. Or rush to warn you each time she says she's going to kill you..I want to stop loving you, Spike ! At least you are lucky to be able to live long enough to forget them or to find other soulmates out there ! Me ? I'm only human. I only have one chance. And turns out, he'll never be mine ! And I will never meet another one in my life ! So, be happy to be immortal and stop saying that you'll end your life ! Because I will never have peace until I know that you are going to keep living ! So, let's jump ! I have a stake, you have your inhuman strength. Tore me to pieces, break my neck, rip my heart right out of my chest..If I can't have you, and you can't have the one you want. If we can't love. Then, at least, let me die with you. I won't be able to live without you. So, please, let me help you..and help myself at the same time."

You sob and grab his hand to put it over your heart, so he can rip it from your ribcage if he so wishes. You are so upset that you don't feel his fingers closing on yours. When you raise your face with determination to tell him that you wouldn't let him die, you see him smiling: not his usual cold, sarcastic or mischievous smile. A genuine smile. One that thrills you and that makes you want to smile back. But what happens next is even better. He kisses you. He kisses you tenderly, a chaste kiss. He doesn't kiss you like Buffy, where the kiss is brutal, violent or even beastly, but a patient and soft velvety kiss. When he pulls away, you feel giddy and light-headed. You feel your cheeks warm up and your smile couldn't grow any wider. And Spike ? He softly laughs before smiling too and gently stroking your cheek.

" Six.."

He says in such a low voice that you nearly miss it.

" What ?"

He looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin.

" I fell in love six times. Not three. You forgot when I was still human.."

You know he is teasing you, but you still elbow him, which earns you a small chuckle.

" Womanizer.."

You finally call him and he gently wraps his arms around you before whispering near your ear almost sadly.

" But you're the only one who ever loved me back.."

You sigh before leaning against him. You stay like that for a while, until Spike asks.

" Could you please say it ?"

" Say what ?"

" You know.."

He seems almost embarrassed to ask and you finally understand.

" I'm always the one who says it first, and since I'm normally the only one who says it at the end..I would like to hear it first. Please."

" I love you."

You says with not an ounce of hesitation and he stares at you with deep black eyes and smiles, his eyes creasing enough to make some little wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes. He's so happy that he asks you to repeat.

" I love you. I love you. I love you..And I'll say it again and again until you'll be tired of hearing it."

He tilts his head to kiss you again, and it's so true and beautiful that he asks himself how it's possible to be this happy ? Is that love ? The love that doesn't destroy but creates ? If it is, he wants it now and forever. He continues to kiss you and refuses to let go until morning. At last, Spike the Bloody and William the poet are both satisfied.

#buffy btvs #fandoms #imagine #fanfic #spike x reader #show: btvs

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oonajaeadira · 2 years ago

Note

In reply to your comments on the thanksgiving post:

This is from my grandma in our group chat about thanksgiving.

I GUARANTEE we don’t eat until after 5. This happens every single year and by the time we finally sit down to eat I’ve already made three passes on the rolls and have DECIMATED the bowl of cocktail nuts and everyone else is just MAD. like clockwork.

I'm so so sorry.

For a long time I have hated Thanksgiving because I'm either obligated to go to my family or my SO's. In my family my sister is the best cook but my mom insists on doing most of the meal but has always been a horrible cook. Then there's the screaming kids (5 nephews) and the cranky men and the "it's not Thanksgiving/Christmas if we don't check off the same boring boxes year after year" which doesn't make anyone happy, just obligated. My parents have an extra bedroom and just expect me to stay the entire weekend. My dad gets sad faced and mopey every time I leave and puts a big guilt trip on me. It's overwhelming.

Then there's my SO's family. They live 7 hours away but unfortunately I hate long-haul driving. He has three families--his mom's, dad's, and step-mom's--and all of them come from broods no smaller than 7 kids each, and each of those folks has between 2-6 kids.... It's a lot. And I'm highly introverted, so it's REALLY a lot. But. After a few years, I got to know them and got comfortable there. And since it's a farming community, all the food is really spectacular.

Last year I didn't want to go to either because SO's family is rural and doesn't think the vaccine is necessary (even though his grandmother died from it, it's a long story). And I didn't want to go to my family because my sister is worse--she's one of those nuts that believe they're injecting us with microchips and everything's a lie and only Jesus saves. (She refuses to let my nephews get vaccinated and I asked her what would happen if one of her kids died from the disease and she straight up told me "Then that's god's will." Yeah, no.) So I faked illness and stayed home alone. Grabbed dinner from the local Tibetan restaurant. Watched movies and read fic. Best Thanksgiving ever.

I finally put my foot down during the Christmas Family Disaster of 2021 (long story, my mother is a lot) to let my parents know that I'm not staying the night at their place anymore. I live 90 minutes away and I'm not 12. This is no longer sleepover time.

And I told them that this will be my last Thanksgiving with them. I like my SO's family and if that's the only time I get to see them, then I'm taking it (and their tasty foods and hilarious nieces and nephews and lively card games and family breakfasts). I'm only staying here this year because my dog is 19 and can't be kenneled or travel with us and needs help just to stand up to go outside. She's nearing her end and I'm gonna make sure she's comfy.

But that also means I get a Thanksgiving weekend mainly to myself again this year...and I'm very much looking forward to it.

Sorry. That was a lot. I really envy people who get along with their family and love holidays with them....

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fandomdaydreamer · 3 years ago

Text

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 13

Heart of The Liar

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: angst, tooth-rotting fluff, explicit talk/allusions to smut, worse angst

Summary: Everything is perfect until a mistake brings Ewan back into the picture. A ruinous lie leads to conflict in Pedro's and Nini's paradise, in other words, she really fucks up

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

Author's note: Hello and welcome back. I am obscenely late and I'm sorry. Here are some helpful links for this chapter:

Here is the poem Pedro is reading: 'Soneto XVII' by Pablo Neruda

Click here to listen on YouTube to 'Slip Away' by Clarence Carter

And here is the gender swap picture, showing female Samwise Gamgee you are also free to ignore

Length: long ass 12k!

Heart of The Liar

Time passed in the blink of an eye.

I was radiating with energy powered by Pedro's residence in my heart and it seemed I would never stop glowing. His gaze, kiss and touch were the nourishment my love addicted personality craved for. I was a moth drawn to his light, a hummingbird dependant on the nectar that was his kiss, to be able to keep moving. Every seldom seen moment he wasn't with me, was spent in thoughts of him.

When we weren't swimming through the sea of blankets, we would talk for hours or I would play the guitar for him. Tonight, Pedro read Neruda to me after I had begged him to indulge me with poetry in the sweet afterglow. Even though I didn't understand the language, his deep reading voice was the musical instrument that made the poet's message universal. It rumbled into my ear as I rested against his chest.

"así te amo no sé amar de otra manera, sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres," Softly, Pedro threaded his fingers through my hair as we embraced each other in the warm, artificial light. Slowly, the words on paper were starting to blur as my eyes got heavy.

"tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía," My eyes closed. Such pretty, pretty words I couldn't understand the true meaning of.

"tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño." The last thing I became aware of, was a kiss pressed onto my temple. After his voice had lulled my mind to sleep, my body remained protected by his strong arms throughout the night.

Pedro stood near my narrow balcony in nothing but his unbuttoned jeans as he soaked up the sun. I was utterly boneless and it amused him to no end. After I had let him fuck me senseless, I felt myself getting dizzy with want and need again as I writhed between the sheets. He watched me suffer. "Please, come back to bed." I almost whined and fisted at the white linen.

"You haven't had enough yet, hm?" He asked casually and leaned his shoulder against the stone wall. I clenched around nothing at his words, mad with lust.

It was true. I still didn't feel satiated. I felt hot and tingly all over, I wanted, I needed. We had fallen into bed and I loved the way he had taken control and been determined to punch the breath from my lungs with every thrust. I went limp again at the memory alone. "Please," I begged him to do it again, to do anything.

"Sleep." Pedro didn't budge but I ignored him and rushed over to slot my lips against his in a desperate act of starvation. They felt naked without him.

The need to possess him was overwhelming. I wanted him to be mine as much as I wanted to be his, to be thrown back against the bed again and serve his pleasure.

Pedro kissed me but he was growing colder second by second and when I looked back into his face, I saw his eyes drift away from me. It hurt. First, he fucked me and then he acted distant.

The sharp pang of rejection grew into an unbearable tension that hung heavy above our heads. Suddenly, I couldn't stand to be near him anymore. I turned away from his brooding frame to throw myself onto the sofa and I got more and more upset the longer we gave each other the silent treatment. Why didn't he want all of me? Wasn't I good enough? I hugged a pillow closer to my body at the sight of this uncharacteristic self-consuming melancholy and still felt the urge to fight for him.

"I love you." I heard myself say and watched his former half-hearted smile drop at my words entirely. He breathed out a soft and cruel sigh. "You shouldn't." Pedro shook his head slightly and it was only then that I noticed I was crying.

In the blink of an eye, warm daylight changed into a night that breathed long and tiring. The shadows of raindrops on my window panes ghosted across Ewan's face as he reflected upon the insensitivity of his own words. I wished I could stop crying and hide the copious amount of sadness in my eyes. With my face etched in pain, there was nowhere else to look for him.

I had blurted my confession into the darkness of my living room, long after we had given up the fight. Ewan remained silent and eventually, my face contorted as I tried to fight an ugly cry. It was simply impossible to follow his request. How could I not love him? He had waltzed back into my world like he owned me and for him, this was just an affair spiralling out of control.

The city rain hammering on glass was the only sound in the night before my weak voice broke our silence. "I love you so much," I repeated and a hiccup cut through my thin voice. How pathetic I sounded.

"I know," Ewan said gently, one hand running through his beard while he trained his gaze back onto my dripping garden. Silent tears were running down my cheeks when I realised it was foolish of me to think I would ever hear the words back. I was too in love with him to even care. Ewan could desire me like an addict both longed for and despised their poison and it would be enough, as long as he stayed.

I put my face in my hand to find comfort in hiding until finally, his footsteps drew closer and I felt him pry my hands away. He held them as he knelt to look up at me with both empathy and pity in equal measure. "My darling girl, you love so much it's self-destructive." Ewan tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His steel-blue eyes were kind and yet, he kept my love at a distance while I would have suffocated this city and snuffed it out just so we could breathe in all the life.

Through teary eyes, I watched him stand and slowly walk over to my vinyl collection to choose a record I couldn't catch a glimpse of. Too many things were left unsaid but none of them were worth speaking when he placed the disc on the turntable.

Ewan's back was still turned to me while he manipulated my record player. The scratching of the needle on vinyl was audible before 'Slip Away' rang through the air and provoked an involuntary smile on my lips. I loved that song.

What would I give

For just a few moments

What would I give

Just to have you near

It worked as a reminder of the gala we had met again, the night he had come back with me to my room and all of this had begun to happen to us. Ewan was using it as an attempt to cheer me up and he knew soul music always managed to do the trick. He turned with a persuasive smile, swaying and slowly dancing up to me in the dim room. I let out a strangled laugh because the lightness of being combined with hurt resulted in absurdity. Ewan's grin widened and grew cheeky even when I rolled my eyes and accepted the hand he offered me.

We danced our worries away, our fight and my unrequited confession. It still wrenched my heart but his embrace comforted me. Even though it had been merely simmering at times, my love for him had been my constant since I was seventeen years old and I couldn't change the way I felt. I would always be waiting for him to finally slip away from his other woman. Maybe he would even leave her for me.

Love, oh, love

How sweet it is

When you steal it, darling

A loud chirp irritated me. The sudden noise of a bird somewhere in my living room grew so distracting, it threw me out of the moment. A bird in my living room? I stopped and whirled around, sensing that this wasn't real. I forgot my dance with Ewan in an instant as the veil of my dream was torn.

And then I woke up.

Though yearning never sleeps. I woke with it every morning caressing my face. Pedro's hand was resting against my cheek and my heart poured out to him as pure relief washed over me. In a moment of haze, I could free myself from my dream but my pulse was still pounding in places where my skin ran thin. I was here, calming the remainder of my anxiety and noticed I needed far less time to go back to normal when reality was such an overwhelmingly good thing.

I had nuzzled so closely to the back of his hand, it shielded my eyes from the morning light. The birds were already starring in their daily chorus and the tiny rascal that had woken me was chirping particularly loud.

Our fingers intertwined, it took me a while before I noticed my head was steadily falling and rising. Either my pillow had come to life or I was using Pedro as such. The cadence of our breaths slipping in and out of sync was true and relaxing. It was another Sunday and we were permitted to sleep a little while longer.

I opened my eyes and felt disoriented for a moment. I had managed to move in my sleep and I lay curled up next to- and on top of him, asking myself how I got here. My head rested on Pedro's belly, my knees were tucked up towards his shoulders and my feet stuck out somewhere past my pillow.

His face was hidden behind a book but a mop of brown, dishevelled hair stuck up from behind it. He had to hold it up with one hand while the other was trapped within mine and I admired his ability to multitask. The bedside lamp was still lit and the entire scenery felt so warm and domestic, it was an image worth seeing a thousand times.

I watched his thumb draw short and absent-minded patterns into my skin and I wanted to forget the dream in which he had said he didn't love me. I had confessed nothing to Pedro and would continue to remind myself to not say the big L-word prematurely this time around. It granted me the luxury of cuddling further into his beautiful hand and hope that someday, he would feel the same way I did.

'You love so much, it's self-destructive.' The echo of a sad voice, the one belonging to Ewan resonated in my head before I could ban it from my mind again. I needed to forget that in my dream, my feelings for Ewan had been as strong as ever. It hadn't been real, I didn't feel that way anymore. I exhaled the memory of this bittersweet nightmare and refused to start the day brooding over a past love. It wasn't worth the trouble.

Pedro rooted me to the here and now and I knew what I would find if I looked past his book. Soft brown eyes and pure intentions... well, not 'that' pure. I bit my lip to fight a grin at the recollection of last night's activities.

I could not muster the self-control to let him read in peace. It was too tempting to kiss his tan skin, the prominent shape of his knuckles, the aged target tattoo. As soon as my lips touched his skin, I heard the sound of rustling paper. Pedro dropped his book onto his chest and combed his fingers through my hair. I pressed my nose against his undershirt with a long sigh and found him looking at me with a lazy smile.

"Hi." He said with a low rasp rumbling past his vocal cords. "Hi." It was a weak echo of the first thing we ever said to each other. His index finger traced my hairline, down to my eyebrows, the swoop of my nose and every feature of my face just to start over again. It was so relaxing I had to close my eyes. "Have you been awake long?" I mumbled in my state of pure contentment.

Pedro hummed out and left me none the wiser. He was so gentle. I had begged him to be anything but yesterday and he had instructed me to rest when I had craved for more. If I was entirely honest, I still felt turned down. I almost drifted off to sleep again when the images in my head started to make less and less sense. I remembered only bits and fractions. My slowly rebooting consciousness was too sure I had let him absolutely rail m- wait.

My eyes snapped open and I frowned. That wasn't what had happened at all.

We had made love, sweet and slow. We had kissed like we invented it and he had read Pablo Neruda to me afterwards. I realised as the real and fake memories collided, that the latter were burned into my brain anyway.

Pedro's finger above my brow stilled at my expression but I didn't dare to look at him just yet.

The things he did to me last night, his relentless grip pinning me down, ravaging me in all the best ways possible. Hold on, they were just a product of my imagination, weren't they? Had I made it up in my sleep? A sex dream, really? My eyes widened. Dear oh dear, at least that would explain why my underwear was feeling more than a little clammy.

"What on earth is going on inside that head of yours?" Pedro asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Ahm,” I began and instead, continued thinking. But our kiss had been so real, there was no way I could have imagined it. I turned my eyes towards him, hesitant to ask. "Did I... did I give you a kiss sometime last night?" Not that it was an unusual thing to kiss him, I just seemed to remember it in a dazed state of sleep induced deliriousness.

My head on his tummy snapped upwards with the single laugh he produced. "Yes, you did and quite passionately too. Wait, you don't remember?" Pedro was still petting my head.

"What?" A squeal of embarrassment escaped me. "Oh, no!" I hid my reddening face behind his large hand and gasped when I peeked through his fingers. His laughter shook my head up and down and I got dizzy and propped myself up.

He was chuckling softly now. "And then you just went back to sleep, what was that about?" He asked me.

"I'm a sleepkisser? Like in sleepwalker?" I tried to remember but all my efforts resulted in the reproduction of filthy images. With eyes wide from shock, I continued to stare deep down the rabbit hole of my dreams. I became more than flustered at my inability to hide the things he knew must be going on inside my head.

"Hm, interesting." He purred with a dirty grin on his face, like he could indeed, read my mind.

I gulped. "Were you asleep too when I... attacked you?"

I was forced to shift my head back into his lap when Pedro sat up with a tired groan. He gazed down at me and looked so adorably rumpled with his bed hair and glasses, the sight tugged sharply at my heart. My fingers were covering my mouth but my eyes were smiling. God, had he any idea how cute he was? "Yeah, I was asleep sometime last night but there are definitely worse things to wake up to." He spoke.

Hot shame licked up my body. He must be totally sleep deprived. "How weird was it?" My words were muffled behind my hand.

His dark eyebrows shot up. "Oh no, not weird. I thought you wanted to... you know-" His voice had dropped a teasing octave and he licked his lips. "We made out a little and then you rolled back over and went to sleep again. It was funny, really."

"And you didn't wake me?" I asked in an accusing tone.

He traced his index finger across my cheek and back to my bottom lip for a brief moment. "I thought about it but you looked so peaceful in your sleep, I couldn't. So, I read a book instead, figured we could stay in bed all day and I'll catch up on some sleep later."

I pointed one finger at him hesitantly, noticing all the read pages he had turned after he had been reading the night away. "I think I had a sex dream about you-" I mentioned and his face lit up as he gasped excitedly. "You're admitting it!" "-while you were right next to me, reading Dostoevsky." I pronounced the author's name in a very posh way, secretly impressed about his taste for heavy literature.

His eyes remained wide and excited at this revelation. "Will you tell me about it?" He demanded, more than asked.

I blew a raspberry. "Nope." I sat up and yelped when he tugged me backwards by my waist.

He put his chin on my shoulder. "How about now?"

I sputtered at Pedro's giddy interest and tried to squirm away. "I don't remember." It was a sheepish lie thrown over my shoulder while I tugged at his iron grip on my hips. Oops, the images in my head he reawakened with it resulted in a typical dry mouth. I whimpered obscenely at the feeling of his breath against my skin. "Oh, yes you do." He said but I just couldn't tell him. "It was nothing." I tried.

"It didn't sound like nothing, mi pajarita," Pedro said, placing hot kisses into my neck and I felt his lips pull into a smile when he noticed my breath had quickened. His fingers trailed up under my nightshirt until the tension got unbearable and I yanked myself free so I could turn and straddle him.

"You got into my head." I scolded him with a dramatic flip of my hair.

"That just proves how bad you got it." He smoothed his hands over my untamed mane and down my arms.

"I blame you." The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkled with joy when I held his face in my hands. To simply look at him like this made me realise it was my favourite face in the whole wide world. The tiny dimple that appeared when he smiled was mesmerising. The grey peppered through his hair and beard did nothing to disguise his youthful spirit and boyish charm as his curls parted through my fingers. 'I love you', I was so close to saying it but the fear of ruining what we had and being rejected again locked my tongue.

Pedro was soothed by the scalp rub and the dopey smile on his lips made them appear to be an even softer place to kiss than usual.

When I did, I tasted my honey lip balm on him and I made a happy sound at the realisation that he had gotten frond of my products. It felt like I was marking him a little and the manic possessive goblin in me rejoiced. I pried the glasses off his nose and in a moment of curiosity, I put them on myself. They made me squint due to their prescription but I still managed to see the expression of adoration on him.

It soon faded and got replaced with a thoughtful frown that made me worry in an instant. "I want to tell my family about you." He said and wiped the last of my smile off my face. I had not expected him to say that. I quickly got rid of his glasses to see if I had missed the joke in his eyes but I was met with shocking sincerity. "Your family?" I repeated, breathlessly. Not only had my lovestruck expression turned into awe, but it was also changing into panic and suddenly, tears were in my eyes. I lost my posture, deflating pathetically in his lap.

Pedro was scared at my reaction. "I- I don't have to if you're uncomfortable with it." He quickly added.

"It's not that." It wasn't like I wanted to hide him. Hell, I felt like running in circles and yelling out my love for this man but it was all so new, so fragile. Somewhere our light and bubbly friendship bordered to our whirlwind romance and I couldn't risk severing the blurry line.

I loved so much it became destructive.

Pedro sputtered. "I mean, a confidant. My sister or my dad... I just- I... Javi and I are very close and she's starting to grill me about why I'm so happy all the time. I know we said we wanted to keep this between us. I'm sorry." Pedro said with a kiss on my cheek. "Forget I ever said that, we have so much time to figure things out."

I took his face into my hands again. "No, Pedro, you don't understand. Of course, you can tell your sister. I'm just trying to process... I'm not used to someone being so eager to tell their family about me." I added the last word in a much quieter voice.

Pedro's brows furrowed and he made a questioning sound like the idea was nothing but absurd. He just looked at me like I had just told him Earth was flat after all.

I recalled what he had just admitted. "You're happy?" I quipped out, several octaves higher and blushed again.

"Little songbird," Pedro began, projecting a softness in his deep brown eyes that made me melt. My heart sped up at the sound of the pet name. "I know we're not putting any labels on us and I'm not trying to push you into a corner but damn it, if you can't see how happy I am, you've got to be blind."

One corner of my mouth lifted into a smile. "I know. I'm sorry." I said and he accepted a peck on the lips. I realised I needed to tell him. "I want to be the girl you would like to introduce to your friends and family one day."

Pedro grinned at me and his joy was worth my confusion. "Really?" "Yeah." Determination gave me a push in the right direction. I nodded. All with time. I'd deal with my fear later. He opened his mouth but decided against asking me something. "What?" I tried, curiously.

"Do you want to tell anyone?" He spoke up after what felt like he had mulled over his words carefully.

I put my arms on his shoulders. "Well, Olivia knows. I could tell someone else but I also don't want to." I said and bit my tongue at the sight of his slightly hurt expression. He nodded but I didn't want to see that tight-lipped smile on him. "No, that came out wrong. I mean... My best friend would make gagging noises and then annoy me to death with his 'I told you so's' and I'm too proud for his smug baby face and Christ... forget my grandpa. Opa can't keep anything secret from my grandma and she can't keep a secret from the world." I rambled.

He relaxed when he understood and I sighed in relief, spilling my agony to him. "The whole village knew when I got my first boyfriend, the first time I got my period, my first role in a play. All because Oma gets a little too excited. Every news gets spread like a wildfire, can you imagine?"

"I get the picture. She sounds lovely." Pedro laughed.

I wasn't finished describing how necessary secrets were. "I have a lot of friends who'd love to know about us... like Hugh and his husband, who are looking after my cat. Remind me to call them, I keep forgetting. They would interrogate every single dirty detail out of me until I would break and spill. I simply- this sounds so selfish... I want you all to myself." I sounded like a whiney little child, discovering Pedro had a soft spot for my pouty lips and pleading eyes.

He tilted his head, hands still resting on my thighs. "I also don't want to admit this to Oscar, for the exact same reason. All of them, actually. He's the worst." "See? Just like Tom, though I do love to annoy my little brother." "Funny, you became siblings on screen too, you and Tom." He said, still content with our position, where he could squeeze at all my soft parts.

"Yes. They said we looked the part." "Maybe if I squint really hard without my glasses." he demonstrated and we giggled together.

"Good luck telling us apart at the next red carpet, we wouldn't want you to grab his bum in the dark." I joked, finding the idea hilarious.

Pedro shook his head at my silliness. "Very nice, yes, keep laughing. I bet 'you' have been mistaken for someone else before too."

I hummed at the truth. "Yes, sure. If we're blonde, we'll get mixed up," I scoffed. "This one time though, someone on the internet put a face app on Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee and pointed out that female Sam looked exactly like me."

Pedro gasped. "Oh, wait, oh my God! Say PO-TA-TOES."

I deadpanned at him but he looked too happy about this revelation and his childish excitement was contagious. Almost. I needed a second to get into character. "PO-TA-TOES." I repeated with my best disdainful voice. "You boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew?"

Pedro huffed out in delight. "Wow. I can totally see it," he noted and didn't even try to hide his chuckles.

"So, you think I'm a Hobbit?" I faked the start of a heated argument.

Pedro played along and ignored all of my attempts to interrupt him while he countered. "Well, you are short and adorable- shush, you love food, you like to party hard and also, Dutch kinda sounds like something a Hobbit would speak if they had their own language 'and'-" he emphasised. "the Netherlands is famous for its weed." He counted the parallels and ticked them off his fingers. Dang it, he had a point.

I squinted my eyes at this blatant mockery. I never told him I was impolitely refused the part as an elf in the Lord of The Rings prequel because I was too short, my tooth gap too distracting and my face too cute. Instead, I was advised to 'try the next casting for a role as the manic pixie dream girl.'

He let out a tiny 'oof' when I pushed him back and pinned his shoulders down. My hair fell around him in tattered waves. "You know what's really funny? You remind me of this one muppet." I attacked him to satisfy my longing for revenge.

Pedro had to tear his eyes off my body when the wide collar of my oversize t-shirt revealed my nakedness. "Choose your next words wisely." He reminded me but I regarded the threat with an unimpressed snort.

I leaned past him to grab my phone and start a Google search. I sat down on his crotch and pretended not to notice his sharp intake of breath at the warmth and evident wetness between my legs. I ground down, feeling him hardening under me. I sighed at the sensation of the flame that permanently simmered in my spine as it grew voluptuously. "What is the name again?" I asked him for help and he let out a sound, half groan, half sigh. "Like I'm going to tell you." He grabbed my hips to guide my moves.

"Oh, so you know which one." I caught my tongue between my teeth and grinned wickedly at him. He gulped. "I might... have heard that before." "You think it will show up if I search for 'Muppet that looks like Pedro Pascal?" I struck him with a crowning insult, as I tried to keep my balance.

"Now, that's just-" Pedro protested somewhere behind my phone but I interrupted him. The correct picture had popped up. I let out a sound of triumph and stilled. "Lew Zealand. Here, with the moustache and the boomerang fish." I gave him a radiant smile.

He stared at the picture and then glowered at me but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "If you have a degradation kink, don't call me a Muppet in bed. There is only so much I can tolerate."

"Wurt the furk?" I said in the voice of the Swedish chef and made myself laugh. My entire body shook on top of him.

"Nasty Hobbit." He tried the insult but made me laugh only harder and I squealed when he flipped us around and crawled on top of me. He took his time to study me as he hovered there, just pinning me down and letting me anticipate his next move. I pressed my lips together but it didn't stop my giggles at all.

"You know I share traits with Hobbits myself?" He mused.

"And what would that be?" I asked while he scrunched up my t-shirt and exposed my breasts to him. He quickly got rid of it completely, attacking my nipple with his mouth to first lick it and then blow softly on the wet patch of sensitive skin. I was shivering through the goosebumps across my entire body when he captured the bud between his teeth. "We appreciate a good breakfast." He muffled against me.

My chest heaved as he kissed a trail down my body and I gasped into my hand. "We should... find breakfast then." I tried to distract him with a useless joke but he was already slipping my knickers off my legs.

"I think I already found some."

~~~

It was far past noon when we finally came downstairs, famished and with an airheaded smile on our lips. Apparently, we weren't the only folks around for a late breakfast. The noisy clan of tit birds was surrounding our table and they were waiting for a chance to catch a crumb of my stale croissant.

They also weren't the only ones trying to steal something. Pedro liked my outfit. I could see it in the way his eyes gleamed hotly at me like he was about to unwrap me like a gift. I had selected high-waist white hotpants which hugged my figure tightly and the matching crop top dipped generously low on my shoulders. The worst of the heatwave was over but his smirk didn't do anything to make me feel less flushed. I must have had a constant blush on my face from all those ravenous looks from him.

"You're awfully far away," Pedro told me across the table with the most insincere abandonment in his voice, like he hadn't been inside me merely an hour ago.

I opened my eyes, a faint blue hue kept lingering in my periphery after I had sunbathed my face in the light. "I hadn't noticed." I played dumb.

"Come here." Pedro shifted in his seat to drape his arm over the back of his chair and beckon me closer. It was ever so alluring but I was in a playful mood and had already made up my mind. I looked him up and down. "So demanding. What makes you think you can simply summon me whenever it pleases you?" I teased him in fake arrogance, squared my shoulders and continued to stretch my face into the sunlight. His silence was eventually tempting me to open one eye and steal a glimpse back at him.

His gaze across the table was calculating and the fingers he thoughtfully raised to his lips made it clear he was picking up this new game I had started. Pedro looked like a man about to make his next move in a game of chess, who had not yet decided if he wanted to trap me or defend his position.

"You're right." He said calmly with a defeated gesture. I blinked and I raised my eyebrows in surprise, not having expected him to give up that easily. "I know you don't like it when I tell you what to do... you're not an obsequious woman." Pedro dismissed the thought of us enjoying breakfast in the same spot. He sipped his coffee.

"Now wait a moment." I tried to hide the fact that I wasn't sure what 'obsequious' meant but his words provoked irritation in me nevertheless. Had he not been aware of our dynamic at all?

"I can be a strong and independent woman and still like my partner to be in charge. It has nothing to do with the social patriarchal control of female sexuality and it is my freedom as a sex-positive feminist, to like doing as you say or be submissive. Look it u-" My eyes widened at his smug expression. Oh, he was smart.

I gasped. "Oh, you- reverse psychology?" My jaw dropped when I realised it had been his full intention to trick me. He was basking in victory with an open-mouthed smile, acknowledging that I had walked right into his trap. His smugness and prideful triumph made him look positively royal.

My protest had been more of a reflex than a well thought through move and he knew it, looking like he made a mental tally note for himself. "Submissive, huh?" He repeated lowly and stared at me with a dirty grin. Of course picked out 'that' piece of information. Instead of an answer, I stuck out my tongue.

A moment of silence later, a smile fought its way back onto my face. His invite still stood, so I could go and sit on his lap if I chose to do so. Admittedly, he had earned it and he was comfortable to sit on. The majority of me loved to give him anything he wanted.

I stood up with a good-natured roll of my eyes and crossed the distance between us. He abandoned his cup of black coffee and opened his arm to make room for me.

"Good girl." Pedro teased me as I lowered myself into his lap and pulled my knees together. Even though I knew he had said it to make fun of me, my teeth sank almost painfully into my lip. Putting my arm around him, I traced my hand around the muscles of his shoulder. I nuzzled into his curls to hide the expression on my face. "You have no idea what that does to me." It made me absolutely fucking feral every single time, I couldn't hear it enough.

He studied me carefully as his fingers tugged my chin down to him. "You're really into that, are you?" He rasped out with a voice that had become an omnipresent vibration through my entire body.

"Into what?" I feigned obliviousness and Pedro explained. "Praise. You love it."

"Maybe." I blushed. I admitted a secret as images of him in a nice suit coat were flooding my memories. "I wanted to be a good girl for you since the very first time you called me that at the BAFTAs." Pedro had been running his hand up and down my spine while he had listened to me and I had to take a deep breath when he stopped his movements.

I could have sworn Pedro's first reaction was pure intrigue but then he looked at me curiously. "I called you that? I don't remember."

I grinned, never having expected him to. It only made him more endearing. "Well, you did and sort of made me want to have my way with you in the nearest broom closet and do unspeakable things to you but my dress didn't allow it." I pouted at the past tragedy, treating it as a joke but suddenly realised it was probably true.

He chuckled. "Such a sweet girl with such a dirty mind." His gaze softened. "You were beautiful that night."

"So were you, positively the most good-looking man present." I gave back the compliment and grinned when it was his turn to blush. I remembered the way I felt like someone special was seconds away from taking over my world. I clicked my tongue. "And now here we are with a broken pinky promise."

"At least we tried?" He suggested but my jaw dropped in protest. "Correct me if I'm wrong but didn't you try to woo me with roses, surprise birthday presents and parties and romantic dinners?" I asked, reminding him of all his grand gestures.

He leaned his head back on my arm to look at me with puppy eyes. "Okay, maybe," then he frowned. "But it was you who started all the teasing, even back in New York. It drove me fucking insane."

I gave him an innocent peck on the lips. "Sorry, papi," I said sweetly. The name was used more as an endearment and a follow-up joke.

He looked up, eyes drifting away comically slow. "It's always the innocent looking ones who are secretly freaky." He realised with astonishment laced in his voice.

"Oh, you know me so well." I joked in a funny tone and ground the last of our sexual tension under my heel to snuff it out before it had the chance to reignite our passions. He hummed questioningly. "Do I? I wish I knew what has been going on inside your head since that dream of yours but you won't tell me." He booped my nose. "Sleep kisser." He added.

"I should let you work for this privilege." I pried myself free from his touch and had instead, exposed my neck to him, which might have been a mistake because his lips were nipping at my skin now. He was hardening against me it had suddenly gotten very hard to concentrate as it seemed he had accepted the challenge.

His teeth scratched at the sensitive spot behind my ear in an attempt to exploit my weakness. I closed my eyes at the sensation. "What happens when I earn it, then? I could make you talk." He promised, spiralling me into a daze, so I was feeling more and more drenched minute after minute. A smirk was tugging at the corners of his lips.

I hummed thoughtfully, thinking about a reply as I trailed the back of my finger down the column of his neck. "You can try..." I corrected him and smirked about the prospect I would give him a glimpse of. "But angel, if you do, I'll do anything you want." I leaned in and whispered hotly against the shell of his ear. "I'll do whatever you say."

I couldn't help but notice that I had caused the hairs on his arms to stand up. His eyes were heavy and dark with what I hoped was the desire for possession. "Don't make any promises you can't keep." He murmured back. "It's true," I said as I tangled my fingers into his hair and gave in to my obsession with the thick curls.

His lips moved to form words before I could kiss him. "I don't believe you. I will need some proof." His palm came to rest on my thigh, I could practically see the intention forming behind his eyes after I had leaned back curiously. Carefully controlled domination wavered in his voice. "Those berries look delicious." The suggestion came out like a soft command and I had to act like I was thinking over his request.

My gaze wandered to the table, towards the bowl still half full with a selection of fresh fruit. It was specially arranged for him every morning to accommodate his insatiable appetite for sweet berries. "Those berries?" I asked like I had never seen them before. It was obvious what he wanted me to do. "Pedro, your Oberyn Martell is showing." I tried really hard to refrain from rolling my eyes.

But I had to admit, the blueberries looked too inviting. They were ripe and big as marbles and the fresh droplets of water wetted my fingertips as I grabbed the bowl and chose one to my liking, studying it like a precious gem. Just to spite him, I shoved it between my own lips.

A surprised laugh died on his lips and amusement sparkled in his eyes. Pedro was watching me intently and ran his hand further up my exposed skin. I simply looked into those dark eyes and made a mental tally mark in my column.

I moaned lowly at the pop when its skin broke and the juices exploded in my mouth. I could practically watch his pupils expand under my gaze. "So good." I mused and knew he could observe the mischief welling up into every corner of my being when an idea intruded my head. Without a word, I selected a raspberry and offered it to him. Pedro opened his mouth to accept the berry and I let it briefly hit his tongue before I tutted and stole it right back. "Too slow." I teased him.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, chasing the phantom taste with palpable greed in his eyes. "You think you're so funny." I swallowed the sweet fruit with an innocent bat of my eyelashes. "Oh, yes." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Jokes on you. You taste better anyway." He said, nose brushing mine before he stole a kiss and demanded entrance. He transferred the taste of coffee to my taste buds as he chased to replace it with the lingering sweetness on my own tongue. I blindly reached for the next berry and broke it off. Pedro narrowed his eyes at me, not trusting my offer this time. He studied me with scepticism.

Like a perfect seductress, I trailed the cooling droplets of water from the strawberry's skin across my collar bone before offering it to him. When I pretended to feed him this time, I didn't even bother to let it reach his lips before I sucked it into my mouth and bit. "You tease." Pedro's jaw hung slightly open and his fingers dipped into my side where he knew I was ticklish. I squirmed and chewed faster. "You're not being very nice to me this morning." "What you gonna do about it?" I purred, satisfied at the sweet taste he had yet to experience.

"You'll make me your beggar, Nini. I'm kindly asking you for a berry." He said, glancing at the bowl again.

I seemed to feel especially evil today. "Why, what's wrong with your h- hands?" I challenged him but choked on the last word when his hand cupped my pussy above my shorts and his middle finger applied pressure. My brain short-circuited and I dropped the rest of the strawberry on the floor. Let him have all the tally marks in the world.

"They're otherwise occupied." Pedro excused himself.

I exhaled shakily, squirming against his rough grip. "You're playing unfair." He trapped me with his eyes. "I thought I was the one making the rules?"

"Oh, fuck." I swore and rocked up into his hand, shifting slightly against the bulge in his jeans. I felt cheated off my upper hand. "I'm sorry, I'll give you a berry." I lured him in with deceitful obedience to make him think he had won. Pedro seemed ever so pleased when I grabbed a fruit.

But then I trapped his hand with my thighs. "Sike." I hissed out and instead of granting him the berry, I ate it myself again and laughed at his expression. Pedro thawed from his frozen state with an amused chortle and he yanked his hand free to softly trace my throat with his thumb. He nipped at my collar bone and cursed out a harsh "Brat".

I gave him a sad whine but only to hide my arousal. "Alright then, no more tricks, big promise," I replied and his eyes never left mine, not even for a blink when I brought the ripest blueberry to his lips. He closed them around its dark skin and smirked when I didn't pull another stunt and he could finally eat it. The tip of my finger that had touched his tongue, found its way into my mouth to taste him and he growled at the sight.

"Thank you. I almost thought you needed to be taught a lesson." He said in a content and uncharacteristically arrogant way.

I scoffed, firstly at the audacity he had to play this effortlessly into my fantasies and secondly because my need to be a comedian was overwhelming at any time. "Please, I would learn absolutely nothing from it anyway," I said.

Pedro tried and failed to battle a laugh. "Jesus, I'm trying to seduce you here and you're just making me laugh." He talked through his giggles.

I scrunched my nose. "Can't I?" I wiggled against him and he stilled my actions with a mere finger to my lips. "You're delicious," he replaced his finger with a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth and made me hum. "But you still haven't told me about this sex dream you had about me."

I couldn't stop myself from blushing a bright red colour. How could I tell him he had been so rough, even dream-Pedro had apologised to me?

"How do you flirt so easily with that witty tongue of yours and then get all flustered the next moment?" He mulled over my strange behaviour like I was a mathematical equation.

"I didn't… it was just-" I stuttered and chewed on the inside of my cheek while Pedro waited patiently. "My imagination running wild." I finished my sentence. "Oh, the kinky bits?" He spoke casually and I wished he could lower his voice a bit. I shushed him and he chuckled. Pedro raised his voice to demonstrate how truly alone we were. "Who knew Nini had a dad-" my hand on his mouth muffled the rest of his sentence and I shot him a warning look. Pedro's eyes sparkled with joy and he licked my hand.

"Ew!" I snickered and wiped my hand on his t-shirt but he ignored it.

"As a sex-positive feminist myself, I won't judge." He promised once he had successfully caught my hands again.

"No, it's not a kink, per se. Do you want to know? You really want to know?" I asked and bit my lip at his nonverbal answer. "Okay," I breathed out. "I dreamt you were a little... rougher with me."

Pedro's expression turned positively wicked. "Do continue." He tucked me a little closer and like a blushing virgin, I gathered my courage.

It wasn't like I didn't love how gentle he was but I also needed to tell him that I wouldn't break. "I dreamt about your voice, giving your good girl more of your filthy praises." I started and gazed at him with hooded eyes while I spilt my words to him slowly. "-dreamt about the weight of you. My legs were limp and your hands, relentless." A twitch underneath my ass gave me a fresh burst of confidence to carry on. "For once you put yourself first and you held me down and used my body like you owned me," I confessed, ran my hand up the shorter hair in the back of his neck and noticed he had begun to breathe a little heavier. He was hypnotised, I had him. I ghosted my lips across his cheek and down to kiss his pulse point. Pedro hung to my lips as the words suddenly fell free... "It felt good, being bent under your authority. I couldn't do much but take your big cock." I had lowered my voice into a rasp.

Pedro let this piece of information sink in. He was stunned into silence.

Like nothing happened, and thanks to my profession, I drew a great comedic effect by leaning back and taking an innocent sip from his coffee with a blank expression. But before I could even swallow the bitter liquid, the cup was taken from me and I was hoisted up and off his lap. I shrieked. There was a dangerous fire in his eyes when he pulled me against him by the small of my back. "You. Me. Upstairs. Now." He growled into my face and I was stolen away, dragged by my wrist in a hurry.

We stumbled through the door of the lift, lips crashing onto each other as we bumped into bodies we had stopped from exiting first. We almost hadn't noticed them. "Ah, fuck. This again." The tired and moody voice that belonged to Bill cursed the moment my back hit the wall.

Chiwetel's joyful, yet naughty laugh followed and I could only catch a glimpse of his body rushing past us before I heard the slap of skin against skin, sounding like a high five behind his back. How dared they? "Macho." I protested into Pedro's kiss and then dived in again.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Bill yelled in fake annoyance as the door went to shut. "Goddamn teenagers."

Pedro only deepened the kiss and presented our friends his middle finger until the door had fully closed in front of their faces.

~~~

These days were spent between work and pleasure. Lots of pleasure. Rest in peace, fair pussy mine, we hardly knew ye. No need for a personal trainer if you have a talented and generous lover you spent countless blissful hours with. Our friends hardly saw us apart from work but they would sometimes spot Pedro knocking on my door afterwards, right before being promptly pulled into my room by his collar. We tried to be on time everywhere and we desperately tried to refrain from being too close in public, which was extremely difficult and not always successful. We found sanctuary in the privacy of our paradise hotel, my room specifically which had become as good as Pedro's as well. His bed was barely in use these days much to Tom's peace of mind.

Pedro's eyes seemed to light up every time I entered the room or sometimes, he would give me these intense looks that had the power to make me blush in an instant. I would stop with whatever I had been doing to observe him like an artist who was itching to capture his face just right. Naturally, it had become his favourite game to distract and eye-fuck me across the room and I knew it was a promise he intended to keep. Jim had to snap his fingers in front of my face to remind me to focus.

It was perfect and it was pure, unclouded happiness... Until it wasn't.

The day we shot the pool scene, everything went wrong.

The circumstances couldn't have been more ideal, though I was by no means an excellent swimmer. Still, I felt relief when I visited the pool in purgatory and smelt nothing. I didn't know what I had expected. It was plain water, fresh and unpolluted by chemicals and didn't hold the ability to trigger any stupid flashbacks. Who knew pools were fun without that nasty smell? No, my misfortune was of other nature, a mistake of my own design.

I found myself spending time I didn't have for an emergency face mask and a soothing lavender oil treatment for my waxed skin. My hands were busy while I multitasked through my en-suite and I continued my morning routine with the soundtrack of a musical. "Greenfinch and linnet bird, Nightingale, blackbird, How is it you sing?" I quietly sang along with my toothbrush in my mouth, sneering at an imaginary James Cordon in the process. Yeah, maybe I considered being in a musical production. I loved Moulin Rouge... and Ewan had a lovely voice and he'd sung duets with me. I angered myself again with thoughts that kept leading back to him. Stupid dream, stupid fake musicals. So glad I didn't star in Cats.

I dropped the act. "Oh shit, fuck, my cat." I groaned, gobbling on my toothbrush. I had totally forgotten to tell Hugh I could neither pick up my cat on time nor try on the dress he had made for me. I'd be in Nashville. I could call later to reschedule, but I just knew I would forget it again.

Towels were wrapped around my body and hair but my hands were still too greasy to handle my phone. I had promised Jim I wouldn't be late and I had about ten minutes left. I took a stupid decision. "Hey Siri, call Hugh," I mumbled through the foam in my mouth.

"Okay, calling Ewan mobile," Siri replied.

My eyes widened in horror and I sputtered out the mouth full of foam.

"NO!" I stumbled out of my bathroom and lost my toothbrush when I tripped and fell on my way towards my bed, where the phone was charging. I shuffled across the floor on my knees while holding the towel but the phone had already started ringing. "Stop the call!" I scrambled for the device and it slipped away. It was knocked off the charger and I sent it flying underneath the bed. "Siri, stop!" I cried out and bumped my head when I dived after it and cursed under my breath when it still didn't listen.

I whisked it into my hand and got up, ready to terminate the call. "Nini?" Ewan's voice spoke and, in my panic, I hung up.

I couldn't breathe inside this treacherous peace in my room. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest. Shit.

"What are you doing?" Another voice asked somewhere behind me. I jumped and dropped the phone back on my bed. "Hè, verdorie! Never heard about knocking?" I gritted out and Pedro approached as I gripped my towel tighter.

"What got you so riled up?" He asked, a little confused. "Nothing!" I looked up at him just to be irritated at the amusement in his eyes.

"God, why do you always look so sexy in the morning?" He pulled me closer. "Pedro, not now, we're going to be late." I turned in his grasp with a giggle and batted his hand away from my naked butt. "Sorry, baby. I just came to pick you up, the door was open, didn't want to interrupt your... call."

Speak of the devil, my phone started ringing on my bed again and I cursed inwardly. I hid it out of his line of view. "No, I'm sorry. I um, I didn't... you didn't. It was nothing, really. Just me, being stupid."

I knew you could see Ewan's name lighting up on the screen and I chirped out a sharp sound when Pedro turned towards the noise. I got in his way and rose on my tiptoes to coax him into focusing back on me.

"You not gonna get that?" He asked, unaware of anything until his eyes finally darted towards the source. At the first hint of a frown, I distracted him with a kiss, hoping he hadn't seen the caller ID. "No." I dismissed the idea with a scoff and a frown. Finally, it stopped ringing.

"Got a little toothpaste there." He said with a boyish smile and I dragged my finger over the spot he had pointed out to me. "Oh, sorry."

"Silly girl," Pedro said and I was unable to contain the panic in my eyes anymore after he had turned his back on me.

I exhaled deeply after he had left my room.

~~~

"The bikini isn't nearly as immodest as other projects I've been in. Thanks to Jim for keeping it classy." I called out and beamed at Pedro while we drew closer from opposite ends. The simple olive green fabric was currently soaking the inside of the softest bathrobe I had ever worn and which would fall victim to my occasional production kleptomania.

There wasn't a witty or naughty comment from him at all. Instead, Pedro took a seat in his assigned director's chair with a smile on his face I would have described as polite.

I had been in a good mood so far and we had joked around and had fun like always but now I wasn't sure anymore. "Everything alright?" I asked, silently sensing something slightly off. Was he feeling ill?

Pedro blinked slowly and hummed a quiet 'yeah' into a kiss on my still wet cheek, reassuring me. I was about to say something about not believing him when I looked at my lit phone and frowned.

Another call from Ewan. I quickly snatched it into my hand but my heart sank. It continued ringing mutely and I couldn't grasp one coherent thought. I had left it on my chair with the screen facing up and Pedro dismissed whatever he wanted to tell me when he saw my attention lied elsewhere.

I trained my face into a neutral expression and searched his eyes for a sign of doubt and couldn't find anything. "Uhm-" I began and the seconds in which I didn't pick up passed by. "I have to take this, sorry." It didn't feel great to leave him here to speak to my ex but I also realised the time had come to reap what I had sowed.

Pedro shifted in his seat but gave me an understanding nod, squeezing my hand before he let it go. "Sure." He said.

I doubted he'd seen who was calling me, Pedro had just gotten here. I brought a considerable distance between us, walking away from the pool atrium into a private corner where my voice didn't echo and I was out of hearing range. I held my breath when I accepted the call and waited several moments before I could muster up the courage to speak.

"Ewan." I finally dared to greet him and felt my anxiety fade a little when I heard him respond with an amused hum.

"Well, I thought I'd never live to see the day." He said and I cradled my phone closer to my ear, cursing myself for feeling warmth spread in my chest at the sound of his familiar Scottish lilt.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I... I'm afraid I don't understand."

Ewan explained. "You, answering my call without saying 'hello there' in my own voice."

I breathed out a laugh through my nose, remembering how it used to annoy him and caused us to bond during the movie we had starred in together. "Oh, if you insist-" I clicked my tongue. "Hello there." I imitated Obi Wan's greeting and could picture him rolling his eyes at me once more.

"Hello, Nini." He said my name in return, had mumbled it just as softly as I remembered. A few seconds passed and then we started speaking at the same time. "I just-" "Are you- I'm sorry, what was that?" "No, you go first." I pinched my brows together, cringing inwardly.

"I hope I'm not disturbing," Ewan told me with a tiny crack in his voice.

"You're not. I'm in, um... I'm about done shooting for today. The crew is slowly starting to pack up."

"I can leave you if you like." He offered. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't want to sound rude, I'm just... startled." "Pardon me, you called me earlier."

"Yes, right. I-" I looked up towards the ceiling in silent prayer. Please, anyone, spare me this awkward situation. I knew exactly what this looked like to him. An ex who called randomly and immediately hung up at the sound of their voice. "It was just something like a booty call, you know." I tried to explain.

There was a second of silence. "A booty call?" Ewan was taken by surprise and I frowned. "Yeah, totally on accident."

He let out a long and amused 'Oh.' "You mean a butt dial?" Ewan asked and I frowned. "That's what I said. A booty butt dial. Why, same difference."

"No, not exactly, darling." The use of the endearment remained ever so natural. He explained; "A butt dial is what you call an accidental call. A booty call, however, well... I was hoping we're on good terms but maybe not 'that' good." My jaw dropped and I blushed when I understood. "Oh." "Yes." He chuckled at my error.

I made a few strangled sounds before I was able to make up an excuse, blaming it on my nerves. "It's easy to mix up the fine nuances of this language, I swear. No, stop. Stop laughing at me." I let out a giggle that was matching his, feeling too familiar with him to be truly embarrassed.

"Well, this misunderstanding just made my day, thank you. That was the first time I laughed." "You're welcome then." I gave out another ringing laugh, one I suddenly noticed had caught Pedro's attention.

"God, I've missed this, just laughing with you," Ewan confessed, nostalgia laced in his voice and I wished he had never said it.

I both sighed and frowned. Why did he need to tell me he even remotely missed anything to do with me? "Have you forgotten how much we argued?" I asked, in a more playful than irritated tone to spare him the embarrassment.

He produced a small click of his tongue into my ear. "Oh, come on, it wasn't all bad, was it?" He suggested and I bit my lip and shrugged my shoulders before I realised, he couldn't see it. But it was true, he had always been such a big part of my life. I had signed his name across my heart and it was permanent. I could fall out of love but not forget it. "No, Ewan. No, it wasn't." I agreed with a sigh.

I paused, feeling like we were stretching the awkward beat that followed into a numbing sound of silence. I needed to break it somehow but Ewan got ahead of me. "I'm sorry, I was just wondering why you called. I've been thinking about you a lot these days. It seemed like some kind of coincidence."

It took me several seconds to answer as I fought to digest his words and he must have worried he had said too much. "Are you still there?" He asked, maybe thinking I had hung up on him.

I could not draw away from him with indifference, neither could I lie. "Yes, I um- it's curious. It seems we are both in each other’s orbit." I said and my throat started to close up. He had haunted my thoughts all day since that stupid dream. It was the reason why the entire day felt off but I could never tell him that.

It was his turn to fill this awkward pause with more silence.

"How are your wedding preparations?" I spoke up in an almost, but not quite, accusing tone. I could hear a long sigh on the other end. "We got away from LA for a bit. It's nice to be back in Scotland and take a little break from... everything." He told me and I let out a quiet hum before I did the math. "Wait, isn't it like... two in the morning over there?" I guessed, unsure.

"Something like that."

I looked over towards where Pedro was staring at his phone while his stylist was combing through his hair and I returned the smile when our gazes met.

I could picture Ewan sitting by himself, in the middle of the night with his ex on the phone while his fiancé was most likely asleep and I could only feel conflicted about it. "Ewan, what is this? Why now?" I wasn't sure what I meant but this had suddenly become too unfair. I knew him well enough to sense he might be yearning for something far away and acquainted like a flock of birds that sought their warmer place on earth. Was it melancholy after a fight and was I some kind of getaway again? No, fuck this.

"I don't know-" He began, sounding like something would follow but then nothing did. The words stuck in his mind were too much of a wreckage.

"About the wedding?" I guessed, honest to God, ready to offer him any advice if he needed it. "Yes, n- no. We are still making choices about the napkins being either red or burgundy." "The napkins?" I echoed dryly. "Fucking napkins," Ewan repeated and I contributed a little amused snort to his irritation.

"And how are you?" He asked, a bit lighter and it sounded like it was spoken out of sincere interest.

"Great, really great. I'm sort of... seeing someone at the moment." I confessed for the first time, to my ex of all people. Here I thought I wouldn't tell anyone. I could have rubbed it in if I had felt any resentment for him but that was not what I was like. It felt good though, to let him know I had moved on.

"That's... good. Good for you. I'm happy for you." In fact, he sounded too cheerful.

"Pedro is-" "A lucky guy." Ewan interrupted. "You sound happy."

"I am." My heart opened up and my head felt liberated at the thought of Pedro. I was bursting with joy and I was unable to contain it anymore. The lightheartedness must have been evident on my face. I grinned widely but of course, Ewan couldn't see it. Pedro could. Just when I wanted to wave over to him, he looked away and my smile faded at the lack of attention.

"I have to ask you something," I murmured back into the phone. "Tell me." "Do you really think I love too much? You told me once that I did and I'm worried I'll... mess up again."

"You never messed up anything," Ewan spoke, tone dropping. He sounded so tired.

"We both know that's not true." I tried to counter but it was like he hadn't heard me. "Being with you was easy. Everything else was complicated but our problems were never your fault." Ewan assured me and I wished I could have shown him the gratitude I felt for hearing these words from him. I just wasn't able to express it.

I smiled ironically. "It's a fresh start, he hasn't realised yet what a nuisance I am," I replied and Ewan chuckled on the other end. "Well, good luck. With everything, darling."

"Thank you. You too." I closed my eyes. Closure. Finally. I felt like I was getting closure.

"Take care?" He asked carefully. "I will." "And Nini?" He held me up and a smile tugged at my lips. "Yeah?"

"I know I'm late- but still, happy birthday." He said and I was sure he could hear the smile forming on my face. "Thank you, Ewan." There was a tender silence before we both wished each other a good night and ended the call.

I couldn't recall when I had last felt this free. I inhaled deeply and twirled like a ballerina on bare feet. I ran back to our chairs with a warm smile for Pedro and he turned at the sound of my tapping feet. His broad arm embraced my frame immediately when I collided with him.

"I'm sorry, that was..." I hesitated at the self-sabotage. How should I finish that sentence? Why should I bother him with my ex? If I told him I talked to Ewan, I could give him a reason to worry. It was nothing. If he didn't know, there couldn't be ground for conflict, an ever-present sneaky trait of mine I carried around as my personal heavy baggage. The habit had kept me out of trouble as a child and had saved me more than once as an adult.

Liar, I cursed myself before I had even uttered it. "My grandpa," I said, out of convenience but shame gnawed at me immediately afterwards. As soon as I had uttered the lie, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. Pedro straightened his back and the sparkle in his eyes died. His arm, usually draped around my waist, dropped to his side.

"Your grandpa." He repeated with a dull voice like I had broken some bad news to him. Pedro processed the information with a blank stare into nothingness and when he looked up again, his usual softness was replaced by quiet anger and I realised he knew who I had been speaking to. If that hadn't bothered him, my lie had.

My breath hitched in my throat. I couldn't breathe. Quick, damage control. I wanted to row back and start with a confession. "I lied." I shot out, horrified at the bitter smile on his lips.

"Yes, I know," Pedro replied, fumbling with Raguel's rosemary and pocketing it in his leather jacket. He cleared his throat and gripped the edge of his chair tightly before he stood up.

He didn't say a word while he paced in front of me, debating whether he would just storm off or go into confrontation. The night had suddenly become heavy with conflict. Pedro's jaw ticked and he looked at me like he was hoping I could give him something real that wasn't make-believe and I was too shocked to even process what I had done.

There was a look on his face that dunk my world in liquid shame. I tried to tame my frantic thoughts. "It's not what you think. Ewan simply called back." I hoped to avert this disaster.

"Yes, I forgot. I walked in on you this morning, didn't I?" He suggested, his voice was too calm and calculated, his trust in me undeniably obliterated. To him, it looked like I was more interested in the game than his heart.

I didn't know what to say. I failed to explain it to him. It was just a misunderstanding. Shit, I had laughed on the phone, I must have looked happy to Pedro, who was unaware that this happiness was a direct result of him being in my life. I had spoken about him. "No." I simply said, an utterance spoken in my panic that had not been intended to be a final answer.

He smiled bitterly at yet another lie he detected and thought he had caught me with, one that came out entirely wrong. "That was quick." He sniffed out an ironic smile that was directed at his feet.

All warmth and colour drained from me. "What do you mean?" I questioned him and the confusion must have been written all over my face. He didn't look at me and I felt small when I found myself at the receiving end of his chilly attitude. I realised I deserved every ounce of it. I was a horrible person who hadn't changed a bit, a liar and a cheat and I had hurt him.

Pedro pulled his character's crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, even though the cameras weren't rolling anymore. His next words, combined with the sheer disappointment in his eyes pierced my heart. The smoke he blew out was less toxic than his words. "I told Sharon she was wrong when she said you'd get bored of me eventually. You know, players only love you when they're playing." He quoted the Fleetwood Mac song and looked back at me one final time. "I thought I could be enough for you, Leonie. Maybe I was wrong." He said, not being able to hide the sadness in his voice anymore and it broke my heart when he turned away. I gasped out a sob but Pedro was leaving.

Before I could run after him, the bell rang and announced that another day of shooting was over. Jim's voice felt like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head that attempted to pull me back into reality. "That's a wrap, folks. See you tomorrow." Jim clapped his hands together.

I let out a sharp and shaky breath as the devastation began to settle in my chest and I fucking hated myself. A wet gulp blocked my voice when I called after Pedro. "Wait!" But he ignored me and strolled away, the heavy fumes was the only trace left of his presence.

I must have been the most stupid woman in the entire galaxy, forever cursed to be brought down for every high that I tasted. Pedro's disappearing frame blurred and slipped out of focus.

Part 14

Translation notes:

(dut): hè verdorie - (eng): blimey

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lovely-angst · 4 years ago

Text

time for you

09.03.2020

this is a whole mess

Rocking the small bundle in your arms to sleep, you stare off into the slightly opened door as you waited for your husband’s return. As each day passed, you saw your husband less and less; you had seen him three times in the last week and it was starting to get to you.

You understood that with a job like his, he couldn’t prioritize you. It seemed as if he just didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t long before he was home, setting his haori aside while unbuttoning the top of his uniform to officially end the night. “Welcome back, honey,” you state as you take his top for him.

“Where’s Hibiki?” he asked with a roll of his shoulders as you set his uniform down. “I put him down before you came home, would you like some tea?”

With a nod, you stepped into the kitchen to start on the tea, your mind going a hundred miles a minute. You had to tell him what was on your mind. It was now or never.

It was quiet between the two of you as you stared down at your cup of tea. Giyuu eyed you carefully before you let out a sigh and spoke.

“Giyuu, I know how that as a pillar, you have to devote yourself to the job and I understand the priorities it comes with,” you start, your fingertips running along the sides of your cup, “but you’re never home anymore. I miss you and Hibiki misses you.”

“I get that we have to be second priority, but if you could at least put more effort into the family? It feels like it’s just me right now..” you finish, slightly flustered.

Your eyes were focused on your fingers as you pressed your lips together nervously.

“(Name), if I could, I would. I thought you would have understood that,” Giyuu replies, voice laced with slight irritation.

“I do understand, but I’ve only seen you three times this last week, Giyuu, and when you are home, you barely even acknowledge me. It’s like I’m just your maid!” You hadn’t meant to start an argument, but you wanted to get your point across.

Giyuu ran his hand through his bangs, “enough of this, (Name), I’m tired from today.” “No, Giyuu, we need to talk about this; we need to get this figured out.”

“What more is there to figure out? My job as the water pillar requires all my attention. Demons could be out there killing other people. I don’t have time to sit around when they need our help,” Giyuu explained, standing up, causing you to cross your arms at him.

“How can you be spending all twenty four hours of the day as a demon slayer? There are nine of you guys, I’m sure you could spare some time to visit your family or spend a day at home.” The tension was thick as neither of you would agree to the other. In your eyes, you were right.

“(Name), stop being selfish! You don’t know what being a pillar is like. I can’t just abandon my job like that,” he says and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not telling you to abandon your job! All I’m saying is that I wish you could at least act like you’re part of the family,”

“You’re getting mad at me just because I am doing my job? I am working to keep us safe, to keep Hibiki safe when he grows up into this world. (Name), what don’t you understand about me not having the time to be home all the time?” Your eyes begin to sting as the argument continues. You hated arguing, especially if it was against your husband.

“If you’re not going to try coming home more often, then don’t bother coming home at all!” You shout furiously as you stare at Giyuu.

It was the wrong thing to say, and you knew it, but with so many emotions running around, you couldn’t stop yourself. You had hoped that Giyuu could overlook your terrible words.

Only he didn’t. His brows furrowed, he walked to grab his uniform top and haori before walking towards the door. “Fine, have it your way.”

Hibiki stared at you curiously as he reached his arms out towards you, a sniffle escaping your lips before you smile at your adorable baby boy. “I’m sorry, Hibiki, mommy can’t stop crying,” you say as you lean forward to press a kiss onto his forehead.

Glancing outside at the bright sunny day, you let out a sigh before turning back to watch Hibiki play with his toy. “Giyuu was right, I was asking for too much. I just want him to come back,” you confess as you run your finger along his chubby cheeks.

“Papa,” Hibiki coos as your smile widens with a nod, “Yep, papa.” Your tears began to flow out once more before picking Hibiki up to hold. “I’m sorry.”

Meanwhile, at the demon slayer grounds, Giyuu was not having a great day. Sitting on a bench against a building, he glanced up at the clouds the moved along the crystal blue sky, trying to empty his thoughts.

The only day I get no assignments, (Name) and I had to have fought,’ Giyuu thought frustratedly as he tried to think of things to busy him. He would have loved to go home, but because you had practically kicked him out and with his dumb self agreeing, he couldn’t bring himself to come back.

“Yoo-hoo! Tomioka-san!” Hearing Shinobu’s voice, Giyuu irritably turned over toward her as she practically hopped over. “The pillars and I couldn’t help noticed you brooding over there.” He rolled his eyes from her words before looking away. He was in no mood to getting teased again.

“Oyakata-sama has given you no assignments today, why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be heading off to (Name)-san by now?” She asked curiously, watching Giyuu.

“We got into an argument yesterday,” he mumbled, causing Shinobu to raise a brow. “Well, I got time to listen if you don’t mind telling,” she replied as she sat down beside him.

Side eyeing the girl, Giyuu let out a sigh before continuing, “(Name) wanted me to be home more and I’ve told her I’ve tried my best to be home more, but she doesn’t seem to understand,” Giyuu shuts his eyes with a sigh, it wasn’t pleasant thinking back on the memories.

“Well, I don’t think (Name) is entirely wrong here,” Giyuu frowned at her response, “I don’t need more scolding from you either.”

“No really though! You pick up every assignment from Oyakata-sama when you can just hand it off to us. I get that this job as a demon slayer is very important to you, but you have (Name) now,” she finishes off and as much as Giyuu would hate to admit it, she was partially right.

“See, (Name) has to understand that you can’t give her all your time, but you also have to know when to let your friends help you too. This doesn’t have to be a one man job Tomioka-san,”

“What, you consider us friends now?” Giyuu questioned and Shinobu gave him her signature smile before standing up to walk away.

Staring back up at the sky, Giyuu now understood where he went wrong. It wasn’t selfish of you to want him home at all, he was your husband and the father of your beautiful child.

Maybe it was fate that he had gotten this free day, and now he can spend it with you.

The journey back home took a little over an hour, but he couldn’t wait to see his beloved family. As Giyuu walked closer to the home with each step, he couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say to you—how would he apologize?

All thoughts vanished from his mind when he heard faint screaming, the scent of blood directing from inside of the home. Giyuu’s blood ran cold as his hand immediately gripped his sword before sprinting off in hopes that you and Hibiki were safe.

As he entered the home, he quickly searched the house until he slammed the door into the bedroom opened, revealing a horrific mess. Blood splattered along the shoji door panels and walls as blood seeped from the back of your yukata as your body crouched on the ground.

Before the demon could sense a new figure in the room, Giyuu decapitated them in a split second before he dropped to his knees beside you, carefully turning you over.

Underneath your beaten, bruised and bloody body laid a perfectly unharmed baby before Hibiki’s cries slowly filled the room.

“Giyuu, please take Hibiki,” you whispered hoarsely as you powerlessly moved your hand towards your son’s cheeks, staining them red. “The demon wanted him, please keep him safe.”

“Don’t talk like that. We are going to raise Hibiki together,” he scolded as he gently set you down before grabbing a cloth to wrap Hibiki safely and securely behind his back before carrying you in his arms as he ran for the butterfly estate.

As he ran though the forest, he mentally thanked himself for securing the cloth over Hibiki’s head, so the bumpy journey wasn’t so terrible, but it seemed to lull the infant to sleep instead.

Giyuu quickly glanced down at you to make sure you were still doing okay, but his heart dropped upon seeing your unconscious body, had he ran out of time?

“Please, please let my wife be okay,” Giyuu prayed silently as a tear slipped down his cheek. “Please let her live.”

Feeling soft hair tickle your cheek, your tired eyes opened to see Hibiki asleep right beside you, cuddle close into you as your heart melted from the sight. Snuggling into your baby, you felt your hand being squeezed gently.

Turning your head gently, your eyes landed across your husband before your eyebrows arched sadly, “Giyuu,” you say before he brings your hand to his forehead, clutching it dearly.

“I was so scared you’d never wake up,” he whispered, “I prayed and prayed and prayed in hopes you wake up. I should have kept you safe.”

“Giyuu, don’t blame yourself,” your eyes shut before letting out a long sigh, “I should have never told you to not come back. I just missed you so much, you have no idea,” you whisper as tears filled your vision, leaving wet trails along your cheeks.

“I’ll do better for you, (Name),” leaning over, he rests his face against your temple gently before pressing a kiss to your head. “I’ll do better for our family.”

Smiling up at him, you mouth his favorite words to him before he shyly mouths them back,

‘I love you’

#tomioka #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyuu x reader #kny tomioka #giyuu tomioka scenario #giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka scenarios #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu scenarios #giyuu x reader #kny #kny x reader #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer tomioka

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fettsvette · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Crimson Moon

You have your period and feel gross. Boba Fett wants to fuck. A little blood never stopped the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy from doing his job, and doing it damn well.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 7.2k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Menstruation/blood kink, penetrative sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology:

cyar’ika - Mando’a term of affection meaning sweetheart, darling, beloved

“If I want you to do something, girl

We both know that you will

I’m a dirty old man with a dirty set of dreams

Take off that dress if you wanna keep it clean...”

‘Up in Them Guts,’ Brendan Kelly and the Wandering Birds

You hadn’t known he was coming until he’d actually arrived.

One minute, you had been in a deep sleep, wrapped in the warm blankets that shrouded the king-sized bed, and then suddenly, you were wide awake. Because you’d heard it, and you knew in your heart of hearts that it hadn’t been the lasting echo of a dream.

The sound of heavy bootsteps and the unmistakable jangle of spurs echoed in the crisp night air, emanating down the hall towards your bedroom doorway.

You sat up quickly, blood roaring in your ears and your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and your head snapped towards the entryway, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in through the bay window.

And there he was, stepping out of the deep midnight shadows with that slow, methodical walk that seemed to encompass his very being: Boba Fett, the greatest and most feared bounty hunter to ever live.

And your lover.

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve sworn he was a statue of some ancient warrior, carved from marble and brought to life by a warlock’s spell. The way he stood unmoving and ramrod straight, just staring at you, always sent a thrill down your spine, his expression unreadable behind the darkened, T-shaped visor of his helmet.

But still you groaned - not out of arousal, the expected reaction to the presence of the imposing yet entirely irresistible man who was currently gazing at you - but out of annoyance. You squeezed your eyes shut, almost willing him to disappear, to take the hint, by the time you opened them again.

His timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Boba, please go away ... ” You grumbled pathetically under your breath, cracking an eye open to look up at the silent figure clad in dark green armor, looking at you expectantly. You heard him let out a sharp hiss under the helmet, and he gave a start, his head snapping downwards, and you just knew he was glaring at you murderously. You had no idea how he’d heard you from all the way across the room, but he had.

“ Oh ? What’s that , girly? You don’t like me anymore?” He stalked forward slowly, and the question came not with a teasing edge nor with an air of apprehension, but with an icy lilt to it. It chilled your blood, and it occurred to you that you may have just made a huge mistake in telling Boba Fett himself to fuck off. As much as you enjoyed the sexual satisfaction you got from these illicit romps with one of the most dangerous men in the known universe, the confident realization that he could potentially grow angry or bored enough to dispose of you at any time without even batting an eye absolutely terrified you. He was a bounty hunter, after all. At the same time, though, that same fear excited you beyond the wildest depths of your imagination. He’d shown you time and time again just how deadly he could be, and yet you had never turned away when you’d had the chance. And there had been plenty of those times.

“ No ! Boba, no. I - I s-still like you. Of c-course I still like you. But…” You began, stuttering and stammering like a nervous child, but stopped abruptly when Fett took another step forward, spurs clanking again. He either didn’t notice the effect his brief intimidation had on you, or he didn’t care. You assumed it was most likely the second one.

“ There’s a problem. ” Fett wasn’t asking you. It was a statement. Maybe another time you would have attempted to lie your way out of it just to save yourself the embarrassment that you knew was coming, but tonight you couldn’t even find the energy to attempt it.

“I can’t tonight. I just... can’t .” You murmured, almost tearfully defeated, gingerly sitting up in the bed to take a better look at your nighttime visitor. You could see yourself reflected in the viewscreen of his helmet, disheveled from sleep and sickly-looking, although you didn’t know if that was a trick of the moonlight or a sign of your current condition. Despite the intense cramping in your belly that was overtaking most other sensations, you still felt a flutter of longing travel to your loins upon seeing Boba Fett. How badly you wanted to grab him by that clunky belt and drag him down onto the bed next to you, free him from his trousers, and ride him until you found your release, but your body wasn’t in agreement with your wishes in the least bit. You took a deep breath, and steadily looked him in the eye.

“ I got my period this morning. ”

Silence. Not even a tilt of the dented helmet, a gesture you sometimes received after making references that he didn’t understand.

Feeling your cheeks aflame and slightly embarrassed by the lack of response, you tried again.

“...I’m menstruating, Boba. You know… moon blood? The curse? I don’t know if that’s a thing that happens to people where you come from, but I’m bleeding out of my vagina and I feel fucking miserable and -”

Fett cut off your babbling with a sharp gesture through the air with one hand, the other settled nonchalantly on his hip as he shifted his weight. He let out a gruff sigh that lifted and dropped his shoulders in an almost comical display of exasperation.

“I know what it is. I’ve been with enough humanoid females in my lifetime. Is that supposed to change our plans tonight, little one?”

It was your turn to go silent. You should have known something venomous and snarky like that would’ve been his answer. And of course he had more experience than you, he was older - by just how much, you weren’t exactly sure. He’d never shared his age, and you didn’t ask. He barely spoke as it was. And you still had yet to see his face. He’d never offered to show you, however, as if it were some closely guarded secret only he was the keeper of. And you didn’t dare try removing that strange, heavy helmet of his yourself. Boba Fett had never hurt you, but you felt if you were to reach underneath the sharp edges of his armor, peel it away from the complicated, mysterious creature underneath, there was no telling what he would do.

Hell, you had never even seen this man’s face and yet you had let him fuck you within an inch of your life . You’d never been ‘that kind of girl’ before you’d met him, upsetting everything you thought you’d known about yourself and the universe around you, but here you were. And here he was.

But his comment about being with other women in his past still spun ‘round your head like some mad arachnid’s twisted web, and made you wonder if he was presently doing this very same dance elsewhere - in other cities, on other worlds.

‘ If this is just a physical thing, no strings attached… ’ You found yourself brooding as you watched him languidly stalk over to the window next to your bed, tilting the green and red helmet upwards and search the night sky for things you could only vaguely guess at if you tried, ‘ Then why am I jealous of something I don’t even know is really happening? ’

“I just thought...you wouldn’t be… into that ...” You finally replied, meek as a mouse, and instantly trailed off once you realized you had no idea what else to say to him on this matter, your face burning. You should have been overwhelmed with desire at Boba wanting to fuck you this badly, but you found yourself apprehensive and shy - over a little bit of blood . It was times like this that you couldn’t fathom why a man from outer space, an intergalactic cowboy like something out of a comic book, had fallen from the sky and had chosen you.

His head turning slowly in your direction, Fett marched back towards the end of your bed, his hands gripping the leather belt at his waist.

“Your condition doesn’t matter to me. It’s a basic bodily function. Have you forgotten, foolish girl? I take what I want, when I want it .” He intoned brusquely, and your eyes widened, a delicious chill crawling up your spine, and you felt your cunt clench at nothing. The crimson tide had come in, and he still wanted to claim you.

Usually, you talked enough for the both of you. Now you found yourself utterly speechless.

There was silence while he stood at the end of the bed, and you goggled blankly at him. Fett was challenging you. He showed no signs of leaving, or of heeding your apprehension in the least bit. He just continued to stand there and stare mutely, stubbornly standing his ground. Damn it.

He had played this strange game several times before after one of your numerous meetings, lingering after it had become clear that you were way too fucked out to stay awake any longer. He’d never forced you into a situation that you hadn’t been game for, but he always seemed to want to make sure you knew who exactly owned you - or your cunt , at least.

So he hung around. You’d mostly hear him pacing the room, sometimes quietly rummaging through your bookshelves as if in a library, but more often than not, he would sit himself in the chair across the room, large gloved hands gripping the armrests and well-muscled legs spread mockingly wide, reclining back and holding a silent vigil over you as you fell asleep. He was always long gone when you awoke, although once there had been some sort of dried flower left behind on your nightstand, dark red petals with a metallic tint to them - quite obviously nothing that had grown on this planet. You had asked him about it the next time he had shown up, after an excruciating three month absence that he re-emerged from with several more dents in and copious chips of paint missing from his armor. He had gruffly feigned any knowledge of the gift, his focus only on the flower between your legs. The dried one, however - the little token of his appreciation or whatever you wanted to call it - stayed pressed inside one of your favorite books.

As a reminder.

Boba hadn’t moved in a while, still penetrating you with his eyes through that damned visor, when you finally decided to give in to him. You wanted him. Badly. Your reproductive system was in full rebellion against the idea and you felt fucking gross, but you weren’t sure you cared any longer. You needed him, couldn’t resist him. Hadn’t you read somewhere that orgasms were supposed to help relieve menstrual cramps, anyway?

You bit your lip and let him have his way.

“In that case, Boba… I think I might feel a little bit better if you fucked me.”

The self-satisfied, smug chuckle came like a rumble of thunder.

“Well, well… that’s my good girl. ”

He was across the room in the time it took you to blink.

Boba was extraordinarily light on his feet for a big man, and he was on top of you in the span of a breath. Rough leather gloves formed a vice around the muscle and bone of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head. You let out a shriek of surprise rather than pain - while his grip was firm, it didn’t necessarily hurt - and he answered with a low growl, kneeling on either side of your hips. He used one huge hand to continue pinning both of your wrists down, the other masterfully unclipping the heavy armor of his codpiece. You let out a near-hysterical giggle as Boba tossed it to the side and it unceremoniously hit the carpeted floor with a harsh thunk , smiling even broader as he brought the same hand up to rest against your cheek, stroking the flushed skin there.

“I told you, girl. I always get what I want, when I want it . Tonight isn’t going to be an exception just because you’re cycling and feeling sorry for yourself. If you’re not going to cooperate with me, nice and easy... too bad .”

Gooseflesh broke out all over your body at his words. You were absolutely fucking drenched for him already, and you wished he would just hurry up and take you already, tear off your panties and fuck into you until you were screaming yourself hoarse. You still weren’t sure of where exactly the man who called himself Boba Fett had come from, or why he was here , or why he’d chosen to mark you for his territory on this shitty little backwater world. Fucking hell, you didn’t even really know this man at all, did you? All you did know is that you were addicted to his touch, and despite your initial hesitations, you were practically begging for it now.

Boba used his free hand to slightly peel back the blankets concealing your thin nightie and period panties. With a contented hum, he lazily reached out to trace a thick gloved finger right along the line of your slit, and you let out a high-pitched, keening whimper, your hips twitching up involuntarily towards his touch. Boba clucked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head at you, sighing and looking up towards the ceiling.

“How pathetic … is that really all it takes to make you fall apart for me, sweet girl?” Boba teased, releasing his grip on your wrists momentarily in order to fully pull the covers off the bed and toss them onto the floor. It only took those few seconds for you to take him unawares, weaseling out from underneath his looming form and using both hands to forcefully shove him backwards. Caught off guard by your unexpected show of strength, Boba fell on his back with a startled grunt, which was immediately followed by a groan as he watched you crawl on top of him. With shaking legs, you straddled his waist and positioned your heat right over his generous crotch, planting your sweaty palms against the reassuring coldness of his armor, and began to sloppily grind into him, dropping down to lie flat against his abdomen as you continued.

Trying to conceal his own quiet moans underneath his helmet, Boba allowed you to frantically grind your hips against the growing hardness in his trousers for a few more moments, one large hand cupping your ass and the other on your undulating back, holding you steady as you hectically rocked back and forth, up and down. You whined pitiably and grasped at the grooves of his breastplate like a drowning woman before his tolerance towards your juvenile ministrations finally ran thin. As you went to roll your hips against the outline of his length yet again, Boba grunted bestially and grasped you by the waist, pushing you off of him roughly so that you went tumbling onto your back next to him. Your chest heaving, you looked sideways at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your cheeks burning with desire. The dark helmet slowly tilted to the side as Boba stared at you, and you heard a disgusted scoff echo from within.

“That’s enough, you. Kriff, you’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Rutting in my lap like a loth-cat in heat and I’ve barely even touched you. Is that what you want, princess? Do you want me to touch you?” He purred mockingly, reaching down to lightly stroke your outer thigh with a gloved hand, briefly squeezing the soft flesh there and leaving fingermarks in his wake. You let out a throaty groan and thrust your hips towards his retreating hand, needing to feel his touch on your body, on your core.

“I need you to touch me, Boba, plea-” He reached out and grabbed you by the face, squeezing your cheeks together hard enough for it to almost be painful, and you let out a squeak as he tightened his grip, turning your face towards his.

“Oh no, little one. It’s not going to be that easy to get what you want from me, not after the way you carried on earlier.” He lowered his helmet until the forehead of it was touching your own damp one, and as you stared into the blackness of his visor, you found yourself wondering what color Boba’s eyes were, and what he would do if you were to reach up and pull that big green bucket away from his face. Before you could even truly consider it, though, he loosened his grip and released your cheeks. You exhaled sharply, a rush of cool air gradually taking the place of the rough leather on your skin.

Boba sat back on his knees, and grabbed you under your arms, hoisting you up and pivoting your body so you were now hanging off the bed, your feet dangling several inches above the floor. He lowered you slowly, making sure your feet were flat on the ground before he let his hands leave your sides, fingers purposefully trailing and pressing into the supple, pliant flesh of your still-covered, swollen breasts as he withdrew. The sensation of his trace along the tender tissues set your nerves on fire, and your nipples hardened to an almost excruciatingly painful degree. You considered reaching out to snatch one of those gauntleted wrists and plant his hand right on your tit, willing him to knead and squeeze and flick at the oversensitive bud at its tip, but were brought back to reality by a sharp smack to your ass.

You yelped, grabbing at your backside and whirling around to see Boba sitting on the bed, staring at you. He had taken his gloves off, and had swatted you with them, both forming a makeshift crop in his calloused hand. He let out an amused snort at your look of shock, and patted the palm of his other hand with the fisted leather.

“Go to the ‘fresher and clean yourself up.” You sensed by the edge to Boba’s voice that his patience was running low, and he gestured vaguely to the doorway with a jerk of his head. His rugged timbre crackled through the vocoder of the helmet, adding an even more ominous tone to his speech. He reclined on your bed, his ankles crossed nonchalantly, armored form looking massive and mind-bogglingly out of place as he lounged back against the pillows. It would have almost been a comical sight if it hadn’t been for the heady arousal you could sense in his gaze.

“And take that kriffing absorbent out while you’re in there. I want you nice and wet and open for me.”

You felt your heart sink right to your cunt at his last words. Stars, you were fucking dripping for him. A wave of liquid heat that had nothing to do with your cycle had pooled between your legs, and you felt your knees buckle as visions of what intense pleasures this man might put you through tonight swam in your mind. You shambled to the bathroom on legs that seemed to be made of gelatin, breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep calm as you wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on your body in an attempt to make yourself somewhat presentable. You splashed your face with cold water to keep yourself from falling faint at the knowledge of what was to come, glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils blown wide, almost completely black in the harsh light. A fresh round of cramps erupted in a band around your groin, and you were starting to think you’d die if Boba didn’t fuck you soon. Resting one leg on the toilet seat, you shoved your panties to the side and slowly removed the offending menstrual cup that you had inserted before you’d retired for the night, hastily discarding it in the bin. You didn’t care if it had tipped over and made a mess, you’d clean it up in the morning. All you cared about right now was getting back to Boba and feeling him twitch and throb inside of you.

He was waiting for you when you re-emerged, immediately rising to stand on the side of the bed. Beckoning you with the crook of a finger, he held out his hand to you as you practically ran towards him. As soon as the pads of your fingers had made contact with his, he spun you around to lie flat on the bed, head propped up behind the pillows, feet planted on the mattress and your legs spread so that he had a perfect view of your damp panties. Whether it was blood or arousal or a mixture of both, you weren’t sure - free-bleeding had never been your ‘thing’ and you weren’t sure if you liked the feeling - but as Boba climbed back onto the bed, openly admiring the wetness between your legs, you began to think that maybe it was something you could get used to.

He yanked down your underwear in one deft movement, grabbing hold of your calves one by one to remove your panties from around your legs, and tossed them to the side, where they landed in a crumple. He immediately leaned forward to spread your wet lips apart with his rough fingers, and you heard a sharp intake of breath come from underneath the helmet. It was barely audible, and you could tell that it had been involuntary from the way he had attempted to cut it off before it had even truly escaped. You flung one arm across your eyes, blushing furiously as you felt two thick fingers shallowly dip into your folds, swiping upwards briefly to gather some of the slick gathered there, then retreating just as quickly, before you could buck your hips into the welcome presence.

“ Such a dirty girl …” He cooed darkly, and you opened your eyes cautiously just to see what exactly he was talking about. He perched above you on his knees, gazing at his own hand, the one he had just been briefly exploring your wetness with.

His fingers were coated in blood - your blood, your menstrual blood - and he was smearing the red between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, as if utterly fascinated by it. His helmet briefly dipped down to his fingers as he greedily inhaled your most secret scent, and the low groan he released made you throw your own head back in an echo, fire traveling from your slick cunt throughout your body. Your cry came out much louder than anticipated, and his head immediately snapped up, his hidden eyes boring into you. You embarrassedly tore your eyes away from the darkened visor and noticed the impressive bulge straining at the crotch of his flight suit, along with the telltale damp patch that could only mean his cock was already weeping precum - fuck, this was turning him on.

He moved forward once more, brushing your legs further apart with a swat of the backside of his other hand and, resting his palm atop your shaking knee, almost calculatingly smeared the blood from his fingers along your inner thigh, back and forth, until the digits were nearly clean. You noticed a bit of dried redness still staining his skin, and the sight made you dizzy with arousal.

You threw your head back against the pillows once more and whined morosely at the mark your essence had left on him, offering no resistance when Boba grabbed you by your elbows, easing you onto your feet in front of his own kneeling form.

“Up you get, girl. Come on.”

You looked down at him, slightly puzzled as to exactly what he was doing, until he sharply prodded the backs of your knees with his arm, causing you to stumble forward. He caught your fall by positioning one thick thigh to rest between your legs, and you landed with your sopping core pressed directly against the grey fabric of his flight suit. Upon realizing your situation, you clutched at his biceps and buried your face in his neck with a muffled groan, every fiber of your being going into restraining yourself from fucking against the expanse of hard muscle. Boba Fett had remembered what you liked best, and he’d weaponized it.

“Go on. Ride my thigh, little one. Make yourself nice and slick so you’re ready to take my cock inside of you. You’ll probably have to cum at least once before you can handle it - I'm too big for you, aren’t I? ...But that’s what you want, isn’t it? My cock in your pretty little pussy?” Boba asked sweetly, his tone oozing with sarcasm. He jiggled his leg ever so slightly, and a shockwave of pure pleasure coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled squeal. Your calves shook in a futile attempt to hold yourself still despite it, to not give in to what he expected of you.

Boba had another idea though. He growled and clutched at your hips and began forcefully dragging you back and forth across the coarse material of his pants, causing you to emit a wail that echoed throughout the room. Boba hummed, satisfied with the effect his domination of your movements had on you, and lowered his head so that he was whispering in your ear, the sound delightfully harsh and metallic through his helmet’s vocoder.

“What was that, precious thing? You love fucking yourself against my leg like the needy little brat that you are, I know you do… now say it . Answer me, girl.” Boba punctuated his order with a slap to your ass, aggressively driving the muscle of his thigh up into your quim.

“Y-yes, Boba…” You weakly murmured, hiding your face against his shoulder, thighs clenching around his upper leg like a vise, your hips finally - almost involuntarily - thrusting into the meat of Boba’s thigh in time with the rhythm he jerked them back and forth with. “I… I l-love fucking m-myself on your thigh…”

“ Very good …” Boba chuckled darkly to himself as he continued to bounce his leg up and down while guiding your hips with his firm, strong hands, reveling in the soft grunts you let out as he controlled your riding of his thigh. He began flexing his quadricep to usher your impending orgasm along, occasionally pressing the tops of your thighs down to create more friction against your clit, friction you desperately needed as you chased your first release.

Your hips started to stutter much sooner than you had anticipated and you locked your arms around Boba’s neck in a death grip, lifting your face away from its place pressed against his breastplate to look into his eyes through the blackness of the T-shaped visor. Boba pinched the tip of your chin with his index finger and thumb, keeping your head in place so you were forced to meet his gaze as you came, his other hand planted firmly on your waist as he continued to shove your body back and forth.

“Come on, sweet thing. Cum on my thigh for me,” Boba encouraged as your grunting turned into high-pitched whines, spaced out with every push of your hips into his leg. Wriggling yourself in small circles and grinding your clit into the rough flak of his flight suit, you tipped your head back as you were finally pushed over the edge. Your inner walls clenched around nothing, devastating waves of pleasure rolling through your cunt and up through your clit as you rode out your orgasm. Boba didn’t slow his ministrations in the least bit, continuing to pump his leg up and down, holding you tightly in place as the spasms finally began to slow down and your clit became horribly oversensitive, until he finally allowed you to push yourself away from him, falling back onto the bed, panting loudly.

Trembling and shivering from the orgasm that had ripped cataclysmically through your body, you laid back on the bed, chest heaving violently, legs splayed and arms thrown limply above your head. You opened your watering eyes briefly to look at Boba, and they widened considerably when you saw that he was curiously running his fingers over several incredibly noticeable stains on the thigh of his flight suit.

Incredibly noticeable dark red stains. More like streaks, actually, following the line your pussy had made rutting against his thigh as you had sought your climax on the thick canvas.

You felt the warmth drain from your face, slightly horrified and ready to sink into the floor out of embarrassment. You’d been bleeding like a stuck pig all over his leg as he’d forced your orgasm out of you, and you hadn’t even realized it.

“Oh, Boba … I…” You began, rising up on your elbows, trying to think of what to say to placate him so he wouldn’t reprimand you for ruining a part of the armor that he cherished more than most other things. He was staring at you, unmoving, and that’s when you noticed his hands were actually shaking . The heat immediately rushed back to your face tenfold, and your cunt grew even warmer, your own arousal coating your inner thighs anew at how much of a mess you’d made of this man, in more ways than one.

“ Filthy girl. I’m going to fuck you hard for that.” The words came out in a feral snarl, and suddenly his hands were around your throat. You let out a gasping whoop as the air was forced from your lungs, although he wasn’t choking you hard enough to cause damage. The moderate pressure on your windpipe sent black spots to your vision, your own hands coming up to scrabble at the backs of his, more out of longing for his touch than a desire for him to stop, and Boba knew your limits by now. It ended soon enough, his iron grip relaxing almost as quickly as it had begun, and you gulped in fresh air. He ghosted the backs of his fingers over your exposed neck for a moment, wordlessly making sure that you were okay, and you pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles as he dragged the digits over your mouth for a brief moment. Another growl left his lips as you did so, and your hammering heart flipped in your chest as you felt him still quaking from just how horny he was, how eager to finally take you.

Boba hurriedly unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, his normally deft fingers stumbling in his aroused rush to free himself. You couldn’t imagine just how turned on he must be to completely lose his cool like this, and it dazed you to comprehend that he was like this because of you . He finally shoved aside the rough material and pulled his cock free. You’d seen him too many times to count, but that first glimpse still sent your mind reeling. He was fucking huge. A perfect eight inches, ever-so-slightly curved to the right, veiny and deliciously wide, the glans plump and dusky pink and already slick with precum. He’d gone commando under his flight suit, and you found yourself wondering if he did all the time. You hoped so - it was fucking hot .

“Boba, wait - are you absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s… going to... make a mess…” You said weakly, grasping at his bracer with your trembling fingers and feeling as if you might faint as he lined up his considerable girth against your entrance. You felt the fat head of his cock against your lips, and it was like every nerve-ending in your body was fucking screaming at the tease.

He paused for a moment, sitting back and studying you intently, slowly pumping his engorged member and spreading glistening precum over the velvety, blunt head with a still-bloodstained thumb. A taunting rumble emanated from under his helmet, and his length twitched in his hand. Leaning down to cup your face with one hand, the other on the root of his erection, hot and hard and throbbing against you, you could hear the smirk in Boba’s voice.

“Oh, princess… I’m a bounty hunter. A little blood has never scared me.”

He entered you without any further warning, one deep, agonizingly slow thrust, and it felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside in the best way. No matter how many times you’d taken him, no matter how drenched and ready you were for him, Boba Fett’s cock was massive , the biggest you’d ever had. Tears sprang to your eyes and you wrapped your arms around his neck, knees involuntarily drawing up so that you could wrap your legs around his still-clothed waist, wanting him closer and deeper despite the initial burn. He bottomed out just as he was starting to hurt beyond your threshold, just as you were considering asking him to stop, letting out a deep, low groan as his balls and the dark patch of curls surrounding them made contact with your skin. You could feel the seam of his trousers against your ass as well, the knowledge that he hadn’t even bothered to take off his pants in order to fuck you sending a thrill up your spine.

And then he started to move.

Boba pistoned his hips back and forth at a near-frantic pace right from the start, already grunting with the exertion, and you knew that he was trying his hardest to keep some semblance of rhythm, to not mindlessly fuck into you like a wild animal, solely focused on chasing his own orgasm. Your whole body moving with every thrust, your cloth-covered tits bouncing as he slammed into you, you looked down between your bodies and watched his thick cock slide in and out of you. Your walls squeezed and fluttered urgently as you noticed the wet sheen of your blood coating his member as he plunged deeper and deeper into you. He dragged his cock out of you until only the head was still sitting inside, then rammed back home - once, twice; you began to lose count as your mind became hazy with the pleasure.

“Take the helmet off.” You found yourself gasping out, and Boba stopped as if he’d been frozen in time. He pulled his head back slightly to stare directly into your eyes, holding his body still above you.

“Please,” you continued, “I want to see you, I need you to kiss me, I need to see your face, pleaseplease please, Boba-“ You chanted as if in prayer, stopping mid-sentence as you realized just how still he had become.

Boba gave no discernible reply, either audibly or physically, but you could still feel his surprise through your hands, the taut muscles under your touch having suddenly turned to stone. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Panic rising in your gut, you expected him to pull himself from inside of you and push you away, to disappear into the night never to be seen again, you began to utter a quiet “I’m sorry, Bo-“ when he shushed you with a hiss, and reached down between your bodies to press his index and middle fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, lackadaisical circles over the swollen nub. He chuckled from somewhere low in his chest, both at your pleading to see his face, and your renewed mewls of ecstasy at his teasing fingers.

“Hush, little princess. Some other time.”

With that, he pressed his fingers into your waist and lifted you off your back with ease, scooting himself to the edge of the bed so that his legs were hanging over the side, your own positioned on either side of his waist so that you were sitting flush in his lap, your thighs pressed firmly to his, his pulsating member buried deep inside of you. Boba gave you a moment to settle in his lap and adjust to the new position, then wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you from tumbling backwards and began slamming into you with an almost murderous intensity, his other arm reaching between you and covering your pussy with his hand, using his thumb to rub frenzied circles into your engorged clit, periodically pinching and flicking. You bit back a scream and your walls clenched painfully around his cock, and buried your face in the scratchy material protecting his throat. Your head tucked underneath the lip of his helmet, you could hear Boba panting and letting out throaty little moans, the sound unaltered by his vocoder at this angle, and the rasp of his true voice made you squirm with delight, grinding back against the sharp, shallow juts up into your core.

You felt a dampness forming on the material beneath your slack-jawed mouth as he fucked up into you; knowing that you were drooling right onto his clothing, completely cock-dumb and at the mercy of the man jackhammering into you, seemed to set off fireworks within your core. You heard a whining noise, steadily growing louder and higher-pitched as it went on, and it took a moment for you to realize that you were making that sound. Your second orgasm was building faster and faster, your own movements becoming hectic and sloppy against his rhythmic thrusting, and you persisted crying out wordlessly, rocking wildly on Boba’s lap. He continued to pound into you, growling and grunting like a beast, and that’s when you began to scream in earnest, the blunt tip of his cock finally scraping against that sweet spot deep inside your core, again and again and again.

Boba brought one hand up to stroke your cheek as his aggressive thrusts bounced you up and down in his lap, a soft shushing noise emanating from underneath the helmet. When that didn’t work to stifle your cries, he clamped one hand over your mouth, squeezing your face with the force of it.

“There you go, little one. That’s it, come on… cum on my cock. Let me make you feel good…” He murmured, thrusting up into you one final time and grinding his hips in a semi-circle as he did, his glans catching against the spongy patch deep inside you again, finally setting off a volley of apocalyptic spasms throughout your cunt. You clenched painfully around Boba, your pussy fluttering, your entire body shuddering and heaving with the waves of pleasure rolling through your system. The orgasm dragged on and on as Boba continued to grind into you and you shrieked into his hand, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity of it. His thrusts were too overstimulating, bordering on painful, as the spasms finally began to ebb, but Boba’s movements had become increasingly erratic, his own grunts louder, and finally - with a muttered curse in a guttural language you didn’t recognize - he harshly yanked himself out of your still-spasming cunt and pressed his cock against your belly. Streaks of Boba’s cum spurted up, leaving his mark all over the front of your nightie. When he was sure his cock had been milked for all it was worth, just before he began to go soft, Boba quickly lifted your ass up with one hand and sank you back down onto him, causing you to gasp and rut against him several times in your overstimulated state. He stilled you by wrapping an arm around your waist, resting his chin atop the crown of your hair, both of you completely exhausted and unable to even consider a second round anytime soon.

For a few minutes afterwards, you were pliant and vulnerable in his arms, your cheek pressed against the cool armor of his breastplate, shivering both with delight and the aftershocks of your climax. Boba’s own chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath, his fingers running up and down your back, occasionally wiping the sweat and tears away from your face. You found yourself clinging desperately to his shoulder pauldrons, silently willing him not to move, to finally stay the night by your side. Neither one of you spoke, but you didn’t need to. You could have fallen asleep in his lap like this, legs dangling on both sides of his hips, his cock still inside of you, a strangely comforting sense of fullness.

It was too good to last, of course. With a relaxed sigh, Boba shifted, slowly lifting you off his cock. He left your opening with a wet pop , a mixture of pinkish menstrual blood and both of your arousals dribbling down the inside of your thigh as he flopped you down on the bed, stretching lazily as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out. He stalked off to the bathroom without a word, probably to wash your blood off of himself. You closed your eyes for a moment, almost on the cusp of sleep and still sniffling from the tears your powerful orgasm had brought on, when you heard soft bootsteps returning from the other room, followed by the feeling of a damp cloth between your legs, gently cleaning your wrecked sex. You sighed softly at the unexpected sensation, and hummed contentedly when the cloth was removed and a warm hand settled itself over your lower belly, kneading the sore flesh there.

“Feeling better, cyar’ika?” Boba asked, and his tone made your heart ache. This affection was something fairly new, and you gave an affirmative, sleepy murmur in response. He had never called you that name before - he’d never even called you your actual name before - and you wondered what it meant, but knew you would only receive a brooding stare if you deigned to ask. You were too tired to consider it, anyway. You doubted you could stay awake for much longer.

The hand withdrew from your tummy, and as your eyes fluttered closed, you saw Boba standing over you, looking every bit the fearsome warrior. He reached out and tapped his fingers under your chin delicately, and you heard the sound of spurs moving across the room, away from your bed.

“ Good. ”

He was gone in the morning, of course.

It had been silly to think maybe you’d open your eyes and see him sitting in the chair across the room, waiting for you to wake up.

The only sign that someone else had been there at all was the delicious ache between your legs that always lasted for several days after one of Boba’s visits and the lingering scent of post-coital musk in the air, as well as a few bloodstains on the sheets and dried cum on your nightshirt that you hoped would come out in the wash.

And last night’s underwear had mysteriously vanished.

You thought you had a vague idea of where it might’ve ended up.

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader

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