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noiriarti · 5 months ago

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The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 3

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), praise kink? WC: 6.7k AN: y'all i am SO proud of this chapter!! i'm so so so excited for you all to read it, i loved writing it so much. thank you all so so so much for the love you have been giving this fic, it means the absolute world to me. requests and asks open, as always!

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, [Ch. 3], Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 3: Bonding

In the morning, you woke up slowly, with the taste of night-old beer and regret in your mouth. And also a splitting headache. But your bed was really warm, much warmer than usual, and you snuggled into the covers for another minute. Just one more. And then you realized that it wasn't the covers you were snuggling into, but a person. A person who had their arms wrapped around you. The memories surged back--Anakin, the loud music, truth or dare, kissing him, straddling him, his body against yours. You patted his arm a few times, suddenly completely awake. He let out a low noise of annoyance, but you kept tapping him.

"Five more minutes," he groaned, deeper and gruffer than usual. In that voice, you could hardly refuse him. Five more minutes, fine. With his nearness, warm and stable against you, your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You thought back to the night before, how hard he was for you and how smooth and warm his skin had been under your fingers when you teased below his shirt. Those thoughts would have made you horny beyond belief--fuck you right then and there, maybe--but you had the joy of a massive headache that blocked all of those fun thoughts. The light was too bright to close your eyes and drift off, so all you could do was turn around, awkwardly shifting underneath his arm, to look at him.

Anakin had little freckles on his cheekbones, you realized when you looked at him up close. When his face was completely relaxed like this, he had a kind of ethereal serenity about him. You feared that, if you didn't hold him tightly enough, he'd run away and jump into the sea like a selkie, never to be seen again. He was almost inhuman in that moment, all sharp angles and full lips. The morning light kissed his skin like it came from some radiance within him. He wasn't just handsome in the college-jock kind of way, he was truly and deeply beautiful, you realized.

Calling this Anakin a dumbass, an asshole, or a motherfucker felt just wrong. It would be like calling the stars in the sky boring. Laughably silly. With his jaw slack from sleep, he was a marvel, a gift from nature itself, molded and crafted into a careful, wonderous machine of blood, feelings, and thoughts. And he was laying there with you. If this Anakin wanted the prize, the money, the job, whatever, you would give it over in a heartbeat. All of that just didn't matter in this moment. And that was terrifying.

As quickly as you could, you tried to ground yourself in what was really important to you. Creating something meaningful. Winning. You reminded yourself all the times Anakin called your work amateurish, or the way he still denied damaging Barriss's bot. The way he'd raise his hand to argue that your answer was wrong in lecture during second year. Other images flashed in, unbidden. Anakin's kind eyes when he realized you were upset, before your first kiss. Anakin's sweet voice last night, full of respect for you. The way his teammates obviously respected him. You willed your mind to go back to his smug smile and the way he hogged the soldering station.

Anakin shifted a bit, then opened his bleary eyes to the morning light. It wasn't that late, you knew based on the fact that Ahsoka hadn't pounded down your door, but it was a Sunday, so maybe she didn't intend to. You reached for your phone on your nightstand, which was mercifully alive but hanging on for dear life at 3%. There was a text message from Ahsoka.

Slept over at TKD on the couch, heard u got home safe! ;) Go get some!

Ah. So she clearly thought you and Anakin had fucked. Not that you minded, really. Even if he was an asshole, or if you felt however you did about him, he was still hot. You definitely intended to screw his brains out as soon as you felt better. You tapped him again.

"Mmm, good morning," he mumbled out, "what time is it?" You clicked on your phone.

"11:55," you told him. He bolted upright.

"Shit, we slept through breakfast," he said. He was right, you had. Not that you got breakfast much. You shrugged. Anakin's eyes passed over you, catching your mussed hair, the smudges of mascara surrounding your eyes, and last night's now disheveled dress, then appeared to realize that he was, indeed, pantsless in your bed.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was hushed, tentative. He wasn't saying it outright, but you both knew the question was actually do you regret last night? You took a moment before answering him, trying to find the most correct phrasing for how you felt about it. About him.

"Honestly, I--" you started. His eyes widened, and he read into your hesitation a bit too much. Anakin got out of bed instantly, a gesture that would have been more dignified if he didn't have to shimmy out of the comforter and then hop over you to do so. The lack of his warm weight behind you made you feel oddly empty.

"I knew it, I'm so sorry. I'll leave now, I just--" Anakin said as he grabbed his jeans and started putting them on. Were you imagining it, or was he flushed red in embarrassment? It was kind of cute.

"God, you're stupid. Get back here," you said, motioning for him to come back. Anakin paused, his jeans pulled halfway up, then caught your eye. Based on your annoyance, he sensed that this probably wasn't a get-away-from-me type of conversation, so he finished putting his jeans on and buttoning them, then sat down on the edge of your bed. He was still tentative, like if he said or did the wrong thing, this moment would disappear. Anakin perched carefully on the edge of your bed, as far from you as mathematically possible. He probably had run calculations in his head, you thought.

"I was just saying that I'm too hungover, but we should still… Just not right now. My head is killing me." As you spoke, a smile grew on his face, but then he tried to hide it by pressing his lips together, an effect you would have thought worked better if he wasn't so horrible at it.

"Oh," he said, still obviously elated, but then his expression turned to concern, and he scooched an inch closer to you. "Do you have any Tylenol, or, like, electrolytes here?" You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. "Of course not." He didn't seem to think you capable of planning in advance, which flared annoyance inside you, but you decided to tamp it down. For now.

"Nah, I think I just need water and food. I'm gonna head down to lunch once I get dressed, then the lab," you told him through a yawn.

"Already? You practically live there," he laughed. Nerd, his tone cried.

"Big words from someone who is always there before me," you said reflexively. The retort had come out of your mouth as easily as breathing, and you hoped he didn't hate you for it.

"Touche," he said, though there wasn't any annoyance in it, just a smile. A silence fell between the two of you, and, unlike most times, it was comfortable. You weren't fuming, which was definitely a new one. Anakin looked down at his hands resting on his thighs, then seemed to work up the courage to say something.

"Look, before you go downstairs, can we talk? Actually talk?" What on Earth did that mean?

"You go first," you said. What did he want to talk about? As far as you were concerned, your positions were clear. Maybe you'd fuck tonight, maybe not, and then he'd be out of your system. You could get back to work. Something twinged in your chest, but it was from your hangover.

"Okay, so, um. I think you know that, even though you're literally the worst, I am… attracted to you. Somehow. And that I'd like to, y'know. Do stuff. I just feel weird about it because of the competition," Anakin said. His confession that he was attracted to you stirred something inside you, but you ignored it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like, I don't know about you, but if we… did things. I think I'd feel more upset if you won. Not that you will, to be clear, but if someone sabotaged my project and cut off my hands, you might have a shot." You snorted, then smacked his shoulder. He held up his hands, defensively, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"But, I think I'd also feel weird when I win. You've been really helpful. At staying late so that I can use machines, to be clear. So I've been thinking, we're engineers, right? And, most of what we do is optimize. So why don't we optimize this competition? Maybe we could split the prize money. Because if I don't win, you do, and I need that money. Like, really need. And I'd rather get something than nothing at all if you win, and, for that insurance, I'm willing to let you have some of my prize money. And, in exchange, we help each other as much as possible to make sure that the two of us get first and second place."

Initially, you bristled. Giving away some of your hard-earned prize? That motherfucker was trying to take away from your victory. But, then again, with the way your tests were going now, there was no certainty that you'd be able to produce a working prototype by March. And, if you didn't, he'd probably win. Souring his win just a little would probably feel really good, you reasoned, given how full of himself he was now. The idea wasn't horrible, you thought. You decided to be honest, even though it almost killed you.

"You'll only hear me say this once--and don't you dare tell fucking anyone--but I don't know if I'll win. It's probably rigged in your favor, anyway." You ignored the indignant "hey!" Anakin let out, and continued. "So sure. That works for me."

You held out your right hand for him to shake. The sight was probably hilarious, given that you were still in bed with last night's dress and last night's makeup, but you were deadly serious. Anakin shook your hand, still smiling, and then pulled you up.

"C'mon, get dressed. Don't wanna miss lunch, too, or else we'll never see the lab in the daytime!"

Two hours later, you found yourself on the shuttle to the engineering building. You'd probably walk back long after the shuttle system stopped running, so you wanted to spare yourself one walk in the biting cold. Anakin was sitting next to you--the two of you and Ahsoka had eaten together, and you had spent most of the time getting questioning glances from her. His thigh was warm against yours in the cramped shuttle seats, and you caught him smiling at you once, which made your heart flutter.

You were not alone in the lab. You decided not to question why that was disappointing. On the upside, you got to see Barriss, who was in the corner of the lab, tapping something out on her phone. When she saw you, she came up to you and asked you about how you were doing, and you answered honestly. Tired.

Asajj was on the other side of the room and shot you a glance, but you ignored it. She wasn't your favorite member of the engineering department, but she was an environmental engineer. Not your circus. In the few classes you'd shared, she was kind of a bitch, actually. Barely acknowledged you. She narrowed her eyes at Anakin when he followed you into the lab.

You kept chatting with Barriss for a while, catching up. You felt like you hadn't seen her in ages, especially since she got a job working as an admin assistant for the department. She told you about her new idea for a thesis, some sort of collapsible electric bicycle, and how she was trying to make a better replacement for electric scooters. She pulled up her chair to sit next to your lab bench while you tinkered with your prototype, peppering in some questions about it. You lied through your teeth. It was going great, actually. You were more than on track. You had passed your initial tests with flying colors. Right as she was about to leave, you had worked up the nerve to say the truth, that you were terrified of how it was going. She would be the only person you'd ever admit that to--God knows you wouldn't tell Anakin.

Well, actually, now that you were in your agreement, maybe you could. The idea made you feel scared, honestly. What if he sent you on a wild goose chase? While you were thinking, Barriss said goodbye and rushed off to go get a late lunch, leaving just you, Anakin, and Asajj in the lab.

Now that Barriss was gone, you let yourself deflate. Pretending to do something productive while she watched killed you a little bit, and you found yourself not wanting to do anything else today. Maybe eat some pasta and sleep. Anakin came up to your bench a few times, checking to see how stuff was going, but you weren't really feeling up to engaging with him. You fended off his questions for several hours as you agonized over your failed test, checking the software's code over and over. It still worked on all the test cases other than the one where it really mattered, the one that took it from being a model on your computer to a device that looked at real, physical eyes. Sometime right before dinner, Anakin came up to your desk again, looking frustrated.

"Hey," his voice was low, so that Asajj couldn't hear. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Why do you want me to?" You couldn't help it. You were being defensive, and you felt guilty the moment the words left your lips. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Because…" he trailed off, expression inscrutable, then continued after a moment, "We promised to help each other. I just want to help, honest." You studied his completely earnest face, so open. You faltered, for a moment. Even though you'd had that nice conversation earlier, you couldn't help but still see his face biting out a mean comment, or his sweet smile when he told you the circuit design you had drawn in freshman year for your final project looked fine, even though it had glaring errors. You could handle this on your own. Maybe, just maybe, if you got desperate, you could ask him. But not right now.

"I--It's fine. I think I just need to work on it a bit more." That seemed to placate him, all the way until you told him that you were going to go back home, to have dinner and study, then call it a night. He gave you that same inscrutable expression, which was kind of starting to annoy you, and wished you luck.

You, in fact, did have dinner, but you couldn't study. The equations swam in front of your eyes, all of them turning into questions of focal distance and refraction. You tried for two hours, and it was nine already, so you decided to switch tasks. Maybe now you would make some progress on your thesis.

And, so, the minutes ticked past as you sat alone in your bedroom, flipping through pages and googling random things like "refraction of printer paper." Ahsoka was studying for some exam she had tomorrow, and she said she'd be out late at the library, so you had room to spread out. You found yourself pouring cups of tea in the kitchen more often than was technically productive, and, more than a couple of times, you wanted to throw your prototype against a wall.

It was 11 when you caved and texted Anakin for help. It had been almost a week since you had this issue, and you were really getting to be behind, so this qualified as desperate. And if he was going to make fun of you, so be it. You cringed a bit when you saw that his contact name was still Asshole, a change made in anger in junior year when he called your group project idea the most boring thing he'd ever heard.

You: U up?

Asshole: bffr did you actually just send me a u up text Asshole: yes i am up

You: Can you come over? You: To help with an optics question

Asshole: yes Asshole: be there in 10

You: Thank you

Asshole: course

You changed his contact name back to Anakin. He deserved that much, at least. And, in the ten minutes before he came, you changed into some kind of lacy set of lingerie you'd bought the last time you went clubbing. Just in case. When you were with Anakin, there was always a chance things would go there, even if you called him over for a math issue. You threw your favorite comfortable pair of shorts back on, along with a loose Coruscant U shirt.

When he arrived, looking upsettingly hot in the bomber jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans he was wearing, you led him to your room, trying not to imagine the other reasons you might bring him there at night. Once he understood what your project was trying to do, his fingers scrolled the code you had written. He asked the right questions about various modules you'd used, then turned his attention to the hardware. He re-ran the tests, then grabbed your prototype and moved your detector around the room a bit.

Twenty minutes later, he had a diagnosis.

"I'm afraid the reason your machine doesn't work is that… you're stupid."

"What?" If you didn't need his help so badly, you would have smacked him.

"Yeah, look. First of all, you're getting a false negative from the fact that your code says to output a 'no glaucoma' response whenever it doesn't see glaucoma. So you could point it at the wall and it'd tell you that it doesn't have glaucoma, because, technically, it doesn't. And it's not reading either of these images accurately because, look, when you hold the paper like this," he lifted it up at a diagonal, "you can see that there's some reflection of light off the ink you used to print it. There isn't that in the training images you showed it, so it doesn't read it right. I bet if you did this whole thing on an actual eye with glaucoma, not a printed picture, you'd be fine," he said. "You've spent so much time hooking up the camera that you didn't spend enough time on making a good test, that's all. And, also, you need to make sure there's a way for the program to recognize whether something is an eye or not. That would also be helpful."

A certain calm took over him when he started explaining, like you saw in him when he was doing something particularly difficult. Those were the moments you found him most attractive, and, right now, the first time he was helping you for no other reason than that you asked, you thought this might be the most attractive you've seen him. His hands, gesturing. His eyes, sparkling. I want to kiss him. The thought propelled you to stand up, so that you were closer to his height.

"Thank you, Anakin. I mean it. As much as it hurts to admit… you're probably right," you said. After a beat, you continued, your voice lower than before. "And I'm really glad you came tonight." The confession slipped out of your lips like a secret, quick and quiet. Anakin's body was so close to you, you could have pressed yourself against him if you just leaned forward.

"You're welcome," he said in the same husky tone, his gaze flitting from your eyes to your lips. The air was charged with something, some kind of magnetic pull between the two of you. His softness toward you was new, exciting. Your hand reached out, brushing his wrist before finding his hand. When his eyes widened and he shuddered out a breath, it was like a jolt of lightning. He wanted you, badly. So badly even you could tell. The previous times you had done this, it'd been the heat of the moment driving you. Now, you weren't sure how to get from here to making him horny. This was soft, almost romantic, not angry and sexy and intense. What could you say?

"So, um. Wanna watch something?" Your suggestion was a little bit stupid, but Anakin's lips pressed together as he tried to subdue giggles. He failed, and started full-on cackling. You felt your whole face get warm from embarrassment. Well, damn. There goes that.

"Did you really actually for real just ask me to Netflix and chill with a straight face?" He was almost wiping away tears, apparently. Jesus Christ, you were just trying to break the ice. You smacked his upsettingly hard chest in annoyance.

"Stop laughing! Or else I'll--" you were trying to find some threat, something to say that would actually get him to shut up, when he jumped in.

"You'll what? What are you gonna do about it?" Something in his voice morphed, mocking, and though he was smiling, it reminded you more of the expression an animal makes before catching its prey. Self-satisfied. Smug. So, so fucking handsome.

You didn't need another second before you slammed into him, kissing him with a kind of fever you had only imagined. He'd been riling you up for days, weeks, months at this point, and you were finally going to get him inside you. Your hands found their way into his hair while he pulled you to him by your lower back. When you gently tugged, he let out a little noise deep in his throat and started nudging you toward the bed. The effect you had on him was overpowering, addicting. And, if you were being honest, he was riling you up just as much. His thumbs were playing with the skin that was directly under your tank top, sending little fires to your core.

You finally reached the bed, still kissing sloppily, and then he pushed you down onto it before connecting your lips again and climbing over you. Though he was hovering over you, supported by his arms, Anakin kept his hips just out of reach. You horribly, horribly wanted to feel that hardness pressing against you again. You trailed your hands down his chest, all the way until you reached the button of his jeans. You ghosted your hand over his length, trapped against him in his jeans, and he let out a hiss of air.

"Be patient," he said, going back down to kiss you. He notably didn't remove your hand, but you decided there was something else you'd like to explore first, anyway. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moved your hand up his shirt, running your fingers everywhere they could reach. He was taut and warm, so smooth as you felt the divots of his stomach and the clenched muscles in his chest. You knew he was an athlete, but he was properly built in a lean and strong sort of way. You could have sworn you felt abs under your hand, which was only confirmed when he quickly pulled away from you, then shrugged off his shirt. Anakin could have been carved from marble. Even though you were drunk on him, a piece of you recognized the same otherworldly sense from that morning. Like a statue of Apollo had broken out of stone and stepped into your life, still above you and staring down with such intensity that it made you shiver.

His hands came up under your tank top, sliding up your stomach before they reached your bra. Tentative, warm fingers slipped under the wire and grazed the bottom of your breasts. A positively embarrassing moan slipped out of you. He chuckled against your neck and brought his hands further up until his fingertips traced your nipples. The moan that followed was even needier, and you didn't even care.

"Stop teasing me, Anakin, please take it off," you whined, pressing your chest up into his hands and lifting your arms above your head. He didn't need to be asked twice, and slipped one hand behind your back to unclip your bra--with some ease, which surprised you. Everyone you'd been with before had struggled at least a bit, but apparently Anakin was a natural. You briefly wondered how many other people he'd slept with, but you abandoned the thought when jealousy flared in you. Anakin then brought his hands back down to the hem of your tank top before pulling it off above you, then gently guiding the straps of your bra down, finally exposing you. His eyes over you, hungry, starving.

"Fuck, you're so pretty. You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned before leaning down to your collarbone and trailing wet kisses down until he reached your nipple. His wet, warm tongue darted out to circle your sensitive skin. His right hand came up to play with the other, pinching and pulling and twisting until you were mewling. Then, he let his mouth trail even lower, kissing down until he was right above the drawstring of your shorts.

"Can I take these off, baby?" He was looking up at you with that smirk, the one that meant he knew you wouldn't say no. Of course you wouldn't. You nodded feverishly, and he undid your shorts and drew them down your legs. As he did so, the word stuck in your head. Baby. Did he mean that? Either way, you weren't going to question the way it slicked your pussy. Your shorts landed somewhere at the foot of the bed, but you didn't care. You were too busy watching Anakin take in the lacy underwear you had on.

"Damn. Do you have someone else coming over, or was this all for me?" His tone was light, but he was looking at your pussy like a man possessed. He was practically drooling.

"Shut up, Skywalker, and just take them off." He did so, happily, hooking his fingers under the waistband and drawing them down your legs until they were all the way off. If you thought he was staring before, he was practically glued to you now. One of his hands came up to rub your upper thigh before he drew it closer, inward. By the time he got close your pussy, you were thrusting up and trying to get him to touch you, rub you, finger you, whatever. As long as he put his hand on you, you'd stop feeling so sensitive and needy. But then his finger trailed up to your other knee, perfectly skipping your pussy. That motherfucker. You groaned, and you swore you could hear him chuckle. Asshole.

"Look how soaked you are. Is this all for me?" He was sin itself, a demon sent from hell to tempt you. Well, it was working. You nodded. There wasn't any shame or anger left, just a desperate need to be touched where you wanted it. Needed it.

He trailed one finger to your clit, then ran it down the rest of your slit, letting it linger right on the opening of your pussy. He tapped it once, twice, and it made a wet slapping sound that would have made you a little embarrassed had you been less turned on. But this was Anakin, and he was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, if the rock-hard outline in his jeans was any indication.

Anakin slid the finger inside you and groaned at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him as he curled it upward. His thumb came to play with your clit, and you blurted out his name. His eyes shot to you as he took in a ragged breath. So he liked it when you said his name, got it.

And then he lowered his mouth onto your clit, and his name came out of you immediately. When his tongue started moving, fast and warm, rubbing little circles into your clit, you started chanting his name like a prayer. He added another finger inside you, stimulating you everywhere. Your hands tangled into his hair. This had to be the best head you'd ever gotten, you realized. The last person to go down on you was probably your boyfriend in junior year, and he was sloppy and got tired quickly. It almost felt like he couldn't wait for it to stop. Anakin, on the other hand, ate you like it was worship. You could tell he was reading you, then changing what he was doing when he saw a good reaction he wanted to repeat. If there was a movement you liked, he would find it and do it again and again until your legs shook.

Words spilled out of you. Telling him how good it felt, how much you wanted him. Things you would never say, only think, if he wasn't destroying you. You thanked your lucky stars Ahsoka was out, because not even three walls between you would be able to muffle your moans. You grabbed his hair particularly viciously as you were getting close, and he groaned against you before somehow getting even faster with his tongue, finally bringing you over the edge. Pleasure washed over you, and the world was still for a moment before the first wave of your orgasm hit. And, when it hit, you let out a moan so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear. You didn't even try to hide it from Anakin, who could definitely feel you twitching and clenching around his fingers.

"Fuuuuuuck, baby. You look so pretty when you cum," he said as he pulled away a bit, before pressing a kiss against your inner thigh while your legs shook around him. You caught your breath, but your pussy was still hungry. Demanding. Anakin got up from between your legs, still panting, his chin covered in a combination of spit and pussy juice. You took a mental snapshot for later reference. His eyes were so wild, and you knew you were about to get fucked like never before. Anakin was back over you, and you reached out your hand to the hard flesh that was practically bursting out of his jeans. As soon as you grazed it, he grunted, looking you straight in the eyes.

"You want it?" You nodded as fast as you can. Anakin smirked in that way that usually pissed you off, but now it just made you wetter. "Tell me how bad," he commanded. You didn't know where the words came from, but, once they started, they didn't stop.

"Fuck me, please Anakin. Please. I've waited so long and--I, Fuck. I need you inside me, more than anything in the whole fucking world, please," you begged. His jaw clenched as he smiled, obviously satisfied by your answer. He popped open the button of his jeans before undoing the fly and pulling both them and his boxers off in one go.

His cock almost made you drool, and you vowed to have it in your mouth next time. You'd had this one boyfriend, and you had sworn to all your friends that he was the biggest you'd ever had, seven inches. Anakin blew him out of the water. He was at least eight, if not more, and girthy enough that you wondered if you could even wrap your lips around him. The light skin of his shaft had purple and blue veins that snaked upward, and you longed to taste them. He was leaking a bead of precum, which he smeared across his head with his thumb.

Anakin turned around and pulled a condom out of his jeans. Had he planned this? Did he come here, knowing, hoping that you two would finally fuck? He obviously caught your weird look, and looked at you with knowing eyes.

"What, did you think I didn't know exactly why you wanted me here tonight?" Anakin chuckled, and you had the good decency to look a little bit embarrassed, but he rejoined you on the bed quickly enough that it didn't really matter.

"Damn, you look fucking amazing like this," he breathed, a little bit wonderous as he looked down at you, your legs spread for him. He situated himself between your legs, then wasted no time teasing you before he thrust into you with a loud moan. You let out a strangled sound, finally full to the brim with his cock, which was hitting parts of you that your fingers never could. And then he moved, and every nerve in your body was on fire. Your jaw opened, slack, as he pressed his forehead to yours and drilled into you. You were so wet from his spit that everything was sliding just right.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good. I'm not gonna last at this rate," he grunted out as he sped up.

"I don't care, Anakin, just fuck me," you moaned out. His hips slammed into yours, finally giving you what you'd been fantasizing about when you were alone. You relished the way his eyes squeezed shut, the hot breaths he huffed out, trying to stave off his release. He was fast and efficient, but listened to your reactions as he fucked you, adjusting angles until you were making the loudest noises you had that night. It felt like he was stretching you out, filling you up until there was no more air left in your body. Then, suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"Ride me," he growled. You scrambled to sit up, and he sat himself up against your headboard so that you were in his lap. Using your tired thighs, you lifted yourself up just enough for him to slip back in, which he did with ease as you both let out moans. You started raising and lowering your hips on him, working your way slowly so that he was fully inside you. From this angle, he was even deeper, if that was possible. Anakin's hands came up to grab your ass, squeezing it and occasionally giving it a gentle smack. You sped up, and words started tumbling out of his lips.

"Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to do this at that stupid fucking party. You looked so fuckin' hot, I almost came when you sat on me," he confessed before letting out a particularly loud moan. You thought back to the way he was looking at you at the party, and it was the same glare he was casting you now. Like he'd give anything to be with you, like he was desperate for you. And he was. He kept repeating your name and how good he felt as you bounced on him.

"Shit, baby, I'm close," he gritted out. You could see it in the way his eyes squeezed, his brow furrowed, and his arms clenched around you. Your thighs burned, but you got faster. You were going to make him cum as hard as you possibly could. Soon enough, his breathing got faster, louder, letting moans fall from his lips freely. Then, he came so powerfully you swore you could feel it too. His hips twitched and jerked up into you as spurt after spurt shot out of him and into the condom. He threw his head back against your headboard, scrunching his eyes shut and moaning out your name. You could feel every twitch of his cock, every jump of his muscles under you. It was joy itself.

Once he finished cumming, you lifted yourself up and let his cock slide out of you. He was still panting, flushed and sweaty, but he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. Your head was resting against his chest, his left arm around you, as he pulled off the condom and tied it off, tossing it into your bedside trash. Both of you were a little bit more recovered, but your voice was still hoarse when you spoke.

"Fuck, that was amazing," you said. And it was. It really, truly was the best sex you had ever had. Anakin seemed equally as happy when he looked down at you with that soft, tender look in his eye.

"Really?" You gave him a little mhmm before he continued, "I feel bad I came so early. It's just, it's been a while for me." The confession came quickly. Like he almost wasn't sure whether to say it, but you were glad he did. You felt the same way.

"Me too, like six months. You?" The hand on his chest traced patterns across his stomach.

"Two years," he answered, like it was nothing.

"What?!" You expected him to say a month or two, maybe three at maximum. How could a guy who fucked that well stay celibate for that long? There was no way this was his first time back after so long. It was just impossible. He obviously saw the shock on your face, then elaborated.

"Yeah, since I broke up with my ex, I just… haven't found someone I wanted to do it with." Anakin was gazing at you with such affection that, for just a second, you thought it might be love.

"Until me." You didn't know where the words came from, but he didn't seem to mind. Part of you just wanted to hear him confirm it.

"Until you," he added as he gave your forehead a kiss. You lay there, your legs entwined and your hand rubbing patterns on his stomach while his pet your hair, in a happy, contented silence. The minutes passed, and his breathing slowed back to normal, but the look he was giving you didn't change. It was terrifying. You found yourself saying something to cut off the thought.

"Hey, you wanna know something funny?" You asked. Anakin, entangled in you, cast you a questioning look.

"What?"

"Check the pocket of my pants," you said. He pulled his arm out from under you, then got out of the bed and found your shorts behind your chair. From their right pocket, he pulled out a condom, and then burst out laughing. You joined him, and, in the moment, you felt like you were on the same team, the two of you against the world. The feeling only intensified when he kissed your forehead, still smiling.

"I'm gonna go get us something to clean up. Be back in a second," he said as he pulled on his boxers and pants again, before leaving the room to go find your bathroom.

He returned a few minutes later with a towel, soft and warm under his fingers. One of your washcloths, which he'd run under warm water to keep it comfortable. As he cleaned you up, then waited for you to use the bathroom, you wondered when he became so caring. So considerate and sweet. But maybe he had been that way the whole time, you thought as he put his arm around you in the bed. His skin against yours felt amazing, even better than it did during sex. For the first time, as you drifted off with your head against his chest, you wondered if being with him like this could happen more often. Maybe all the time. And then the words slipped from your mind, like footprints in sand on a beach, before you finally fell asleep.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine

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youngstarfishphilosopher · 11 months ago

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PLATONIC! J-SQUAD X CHILD READER (HEADCANNONS)

Warnings ⚠️: IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE, METIONS OF MURDER, ACTUAL MURDER, HYPNOTISM, THREATS, KIDNAPPING, POSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, IMPLIED USE OF FEAR TOXIN

JEROME VALESKA:

Welp, good luck, my friend

- You would be one of his hostages who he was planning to kill. Patiently waiting your turn for your fun death. You had an abusive / less than kind family member with you at the time who had forced you to go there.

- When realizing that you two two were a little family unit, he decides to amuse himself a little.

- " Hey, hey you!" He would yell at one of his goons. " Tye them up to that uhhhh. . . That spinning wheel thing. And bring the kid over to me."

- Tying your family member up, Jerome places one of three throwing daggers in your hand( crowching down if you're small) while kind of just coaching you on how to throw them.

- What a surprise for him when not only do you do it without hesitation, but with a small smile on your face.

- That's when he goes, " Alright, change of plans, I like this kid." And immediately takes you under his wing

- There is never a dull moment with this man. There are plenty of bloody and horrific ones, sure. But never dull.

- Will make you kill the rest of your family members or do it himself if you can't. You're his now, and he doesn't need anyone trying to get in the way of that or distracting you.

- Sees himself as more of a mentor figure to you rather than an actual parent. But if you do end up calling him dad, he's not complaining.

- Takes you along with him for many of his usual, murderous antics. No matter how old you are, even if you are on the much younger side. "Best to teach them young," He would say.

- Praises you a lot whenever you decided to join in on the fun and always makes either his goons or his hostages cheer for you.

-If you're more on the socially anxious side, he'll try to put you in the spotlight less often and leave your killings as just some private family bonding time.

- This man CANNOT cook. He would burn whatever place he was staying out down to the ground if he tried.

- Gives you a lot of freedom to have fun and do whatever, but don't think that means you're allowed to leave or disobey him. You're still his protégé and need to listen to what he says.

- If you are on the younger side, that list of freedoms would be much shorter.

- He would want you around his vicinity or next to him and would make some of his goons keep an eye on you if he was busy with something.

- Lots of physical affection and inside jokes from this guy.

- All in all: Getting a child wasn't something Jerome had on his bucket list. But he's not really complaining.

JERVIS TETCH:

- To say this man is obsessive is the understatement of the century

- Spots you in the crowd at one of his performances and chooses you as his willing participant

- You might as well forget your parents now, because he'll have already hypnotized them to walk into traffic or jump off a building.

- Unlike the other two, Jervis will expect for you to see him as your dad.

- Will plan extravagant teaparties with all your favorite teas and sweets. And if you're not a sweets kind of person, then he'll put out more savory stuff like sandwiches as soupes.

- Hope you like fancy outfits, because you'll be wearing a lot of them. But don't worry, he'll try to find some that you're comfortable in.

- Doesn't give you a whole lot of freedom. Especially if you're on the much younger side.

- He'll also just randomly picks you up and carry you around with him if you're small enough for him to do so.

- Will not hesitate to hypnotize you and tie you up if he feels it is necessary. So you nest behave

- Usually reads bedtime stories to you, no matter how old you are.

- In conclusion, this man is obsessive and delusional. So just sit back, relax, and let your new papa take care of you.

JONATHAN CRANE:

-Well, this is rather unexpected. He never really saw himself taking care of a child

- He met you at Arkham: His cell next to yours. And you two would talk through the walls whenever a day was especially boring.

- After a while, he warmed up rather well to you. He starts to see you more as family in a way and immediately gets you out of your cell when a breakout in the asylum starts.

- Keeps you far away from your previous family members if you have any. He wouldn't kill them the first time per-say, just . . . Scare them away.

- The second time, he would be much less merciful. They had their chance and should have listened.

- He doesn't let you get too close to him when he's working on his projects in fear of you accidently getting hurt. But if you're an older teenager, he would ask if you would like to try and face your fears.

- He wouldn't force anything, though.

- You see him more as an older brother type figure rather than a parental one.

- Agian, if you are older, he doesn't really let you participate in his antics and usually lets you stay home if he trusts you. But will just bring you along to watch if you're much younger.

- A decent cook all things considered. Not the best by any means, but at least it's not a burt piece of charcoal.

- Will sit and talk with you whenever you need it. He's a pretty good listener.

- He can also get really protective a times, no matter what age you are, and will not hesitate to fear gas somebody.

- Not the best when it comes to physical affection. But will give you some if you want it.

- Although you entering his life was unexpected. Jonathan has found himself enjoying your company a lot more than he ever thought he would. It's probably the only thing good that ever came from being trapped in arkham.

#gotham jervis x reader #gotham jervis #dc villains x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #j squad #j squad x reader #platonic reader #platonic x reader #gotham scarecrow #jerome valeska x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x child reader #jerome valeska x child reader #jervis tetch x child reader #child reader #jervis tetch x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Hey, I'd love a batfam x reader fic, where the reader got mistreated by the family when they were first introduced (not by Alfred tho), they ignored here and just focused on their own shit and when the reader got older and they realized "oh shit I got another sibling" they wanna build a relationship, but the reader hates them and is like "nah, I don't give a shit how bad you feel, kys" and "Do i look like I care? Fuck off and please fall down the stairs and break your neck" or they're really overly nicest most anime girl voice to make them feel extra bad "oh my absolutely dearest brother, I would love to spend time with you, buuuut I just don't want you to waste your time on your little brother, okayyy 😚"

I hope you can imagine something with this!

Take time and have great day

Alright, I'm sorry that this took so long... Also, comedy is not my thing so, forgive me if this is not funny.

Summary: (Y/N) was ignored by the other siblings. Years later they realized they had a brother. (Y/N) isn't a forgiving person, also this gif is (Y/N) like why the fuck you talking to me

Warnings: cursing, (Y/N) is not forgiving, the siblings want forgiveness.

They were all so stupid. Every single last one of them. Bruce tried to warn them, but they didn't want to listen. Bruce himself introduced (Y/N) to the boys. He also tried to stop the ignoring (Y/N) thing, but was unsuccessful.

Alfred and Bruce were going to now sit back, relax, and drink tea and coffee respectively and watch this entire shitshow, to put it bluntly. And it was lowkey funny. Alfred and Bruce allowed (Y/N) to curse during this entire thing.

Jason was the first one to try and apologize. He was the harshest one, always snapping back and slamming the door into his face whenever he wanted to hang out. He summoned up the courage and knocked on (Y/N)'s door.

(Y/N) opened and tried to slam the door, but Jason just wedged his foot in between the door and the frame.

" Can we talk? " Jason pleaded, watching as he looked him up and down.

" No, I'm busy. "

" Please, I know that I was wrong and I really feel bad. " Jason pleaded.

(Y/N) sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

" Jason, I will say this in the nicest way possible. I don't give a single flying fuck about your feelings. You didn't care about me and I don't care about you. So, let me rephrase this once more. Go fuck yourself."

And with that (Y/N) slammed the door in Jason's face.

Jason stood there for a moment before sighing. He really felt bad.

Next brother who tried to apologize was Dick. He caught (Y/N) as he tried to leave the gym quickly.

" (Y/N), I need to talk to you! " Dick said, walking up to (Y/N).

" Well, I don't need to, so please fuck off. " (Y/N) said shortly, moving to the kitchen to get some more water. Alfred smirked behind the tea he was drinking.

" Please, I just want to make things right. "

" And I don't care. Now fly off birdie. " (Y/N) said, running to his room.

" (Y/N), I know I made a mistake! " Dick said, running after (Y/N).

" I don't think you know. " (Y/N) said, slamming the door right into Dick's face and (Y/N) smirked at the groan he got. Dick clutched his nose. He wasn't bleeding, but it was throbbing.

Dick had a lot of groveling to do.

Tim was the third one to try to apologize. He tried to find (Y/N), but (Y/N) became the expert in evading his four brothers, just like they evaded him for all those years.

" (Y/N), I know I was stupid at the time- "

" No, you are still stupid if you are trying to talk to me. " (Y/N) cut him off, taking off to his room.

" (Y/N), what we did was wrong and I feel bad. " Tim tried once more.

" Well, I don't feel bad for you. I don't give an absolute shit how you feel. None of you cared for me and I don't care about you. So, as far I'm concerned, you can kill yourself. "

Tim was speechless. What have they done?

Damian was the last one. He was very... Aggressive in the past with him. Ignoring usually had threats of violence and everything else was off limits. Damian didn't care about him and (Y/N) didn't care about him. It was a fair exchange.

Now he wanted to... Apologize? Not happening.

" (Y/N), I want to apologize to you. I realized that I was wrong. "

(Y/N) raised his brow, clearly not in the mood.

" Oh really? Please, fuck off and leave me be. You don't care about anyone but Bruce and Dick, so don't start acting like you care. And I like I've said before, I don't care about any of your feelings. You didn't care about me, I don't care about you and your feelings. So, as far as I'm concerned, you four can fuck off. "

(Y/N) finished, feeling happy that he got it off his chest. He walked away from Damian. Damian stood in the hallway, looking as (Y/N) left.

They have made a terrible mistake. But they will do whatever it takes to make it right.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #tim drake x male reader #dick grayson x male reader

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mywritingonlyfans · 1 year ago

Text

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

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tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

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Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

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creepychan08 · 2 years ago

Text

Yandere Thranduil x Reader

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. You heart's desire becoming a nightmare.

And now there's no way home.

"Thranduil, you can't keep me here. Sooner or later I must return home." You once again plead your case as Thranduil frowned and hold both your hands protectively. But lately it feels like his gentle touches were slowly turning like handcuffs chaining you to him, unable to escape his grasp.

"Meleth nin (My love) please, this is your home. Have I not treated you well? Tell me what more can I do to make you stay by my side?"

His grip tightened, not in a hurtful way, but just enough to prove his desperation for your continued presence in his kingdom.

"Its not that at all. You have been truly kind to me and for that I am eternally grateful. But I have my family waiting for me. I miss them Thranduil. Terribly." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and his gaze softened, drawing you closer in an embrace. You welcomed the comfort he provided and lean your head almost close to his chest, the part you can only reach due to your unfortunate stature.

"Have you found some other way to return to your world?"

"How could I when you took away that book and refused to let me out of your kingdom?" The bitter tone of your voice breaks the moment of tranquility when you remembered it was him who didn't allow you to leave and travel to Rivendell to seek help from Gandalf.

Though your tone was bitter, you felt him relaxed more against your embrace as if relieved.

"You know there are threats coming from the orcs resurfacing in the forest. I can't very well allow my beloved to travel and place yourself in harm's way. No, you will stay here with me." His fingers slowly brush down your hair as you feel your anger boil inside.

"I will not allow you to keep me in here like a trophy! No more! I will go out and discover the way back- back to my real home- if you won't help me."

Thranduil grit his teeth in frustration as he roughly tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes fierce and burning as it stare straight to your soul and your composure faltered, realizing how large he is compared to you and the power he has to crush you any time.

"I will say it again. You won't leave my side forever. You are mine as I am yours."

A whimper unconsciously left your lips as you began to fear and tremble before him. The dominance he was radiating made you feel weak, unable to do anything but submit to his will.

Upon hearing that helpless sound, his seething expression was immediately wiped off, dark glint in his eyes returning to a soft crystal blue filled with worry and regret when he behold the terror he accidentally inflicted on his beloved.

"My starlight, I am so sorry. Please forgive this ignorant King from his careless actions. I did not mean to make you afraid of me. That was the last thing I ever wanted." The sorrow in his voice made you want to reach out and comfort him.

You remembered how it all started.

*Flashback*

Being a fan of The Hobbit trilogy movie, you were immediately captivated by the ElvenKing, Thranduil. The daily occurence in your life involves imagining random scenarios and plots with him and deeply wishing to somehow be transported in Middle Earth to meet him. And one day it did come true.

You have no idea of your last memory of how you came to this new world. Whether you were killed by a truck driver and get isekai'd, or if you were just dreaming or worse case in a coma, you have no idea how you are actually faring in the real world. But there was a portal which immediately closed as soon as your feet step into the grounds of the forest of Mirkwood.

Obviously you were taken by the patrolling group of elves and presented to Thranduil. It was not love at sight as you were already crushing on him way back on Earth but it sure did made your heart jumped with excitement as you eagerly and honestly answered each one of his questions.

You were detained in the dungeons for some time as the ElvenKing pondered on your statement to see if you were just lying to get yourself out of this mess. Perhaps it is dark magic then to how you were transported to this world? Are you a threat? But somewhere deep down in his cold heart, he could feel the sincerity radiating off you. And there was something else too- something foreign but pleasant that he felt when he first talked with you.

After careful consideration, Thranduil finally released you from prison and transferred you to a well-furnished room. He was still unsure of what to do with you. Strangely enough, the thought of assigning you to be a servant, a maid, cook, or a warrior didn't sit well with him so he decided to treat you as a guest and get to know you better.

As he did, he finds himself slowly falling for you. Unlike the other elleths (women elves), you possess kindness and genuine concern for other people. You interacted with his guards and other servants with much respect and he saw them slowly warming up to you. Everyday, he would look forward to seeing you first thing in the morning as your smile immediately brightens his day. And during the evening after he finish his work early, he would asks you to walk with him in the gardens.

It was no surprise when he ends up falling head over heels in love. He started properly courting you and sending expensive gifts everyday.

"You know you don't have to send me all these stuff, Thranduil. Its too expensive"

"Nonsense. I am the King and I can give you everything you deserve and more. Unless.. do you not like them? I can have another jewel be made to fit your taste-"

"No! No need, I really like this one. Thank you, Thranduil" You smiled at him gratefully and the corner of his lips lifted up as he stare at you.

"Anything for you, my starlight" He draws his arms open and gently pulled you to his embrace, his robe covering your form as you lean you head on his chest.

You wished those moments would have lasted more.

Thranduil was a gentle lover. Always kind. Always patient. Always caring towards you. He never once raised his voice at you and you greatly appreciated it. But as the days go by, you noticed him getting more possessive and obsessive over you.

"We were just talking! He is your guard long before I came here and he is just my friend" You defended yourself as Thranduil warned you against talking to one of his royal guards.

"I do not like the way he looks at you, meleth nin. You are mine, don't forget that. He should know his place."

"Everyone knows we are together so stop being suspicious of other elves! I am not fond of the way you're acting right now. I will leave you to cool your head first."

As you turn to leave, his arms reach out to wrap around your waist as he hug you from behind. His head bowed low so as to breath in the scent of your hair to calm him down.

"No, don't leave please. I am sorry, my love. I am just afraid of losing you."

You sighed, feeling your heart soften. You turn to face him again and saw the insecurities and doubt swirling in his eyes.

"Now what brought my King such worries? Haven't I told you I only have eyes for you? That my heart beats only for you?" You cup his cheek as he closed his eyes and lean towards your touch.

"I know and I believe you. Sometimes, I just can't help but fear that you'll find someone better than me. I can't live without you, YN"

"You'll always have me Thranduil. My heart belongs only to you." You reassured, hugging him tightly to show your devotion.

Maybe you shouldn't have promised that as months passed and you soon discover a way to open the portal again back to your real world while browsing the library. But you don't understand some of the text written as it was in Elvish language and from what you can read, it also needs the spells only casted by wizards.

"Thranduil, I finally found a way to return back to my world!" You excitedly said as you barge to his throne room, while carrying the book.

His eyes widened and he immediately walked down the stairs of his throne towards you.

"What did you say, my love?" The cutting edge of his tone failed to make its way to your ears as you were excitedly thinking of how soon you can probably go home once this works.

"I said I found a way to open the portal again to my world! But I need some help with the Elvish language and Gandalf as well to complete the steps here." You showed him the book and the pages where it was located.

He was quiet for a while and politely asked for the book. As you gave it to him, he immediately throws it to the ground and asked his servant to seal it in the forbidden section of the library.

"No! Why did you do that?!" You screamed, feeling betrayed by his action. You tried to get back the book but he tightly hold you against him before carrying you towards his bedroom as you continue to resist.

Once he locked the door, he put you down on his bed as you glare at him.

"How could you do that? That was my only way home!"

His eyes hardened, frown marring his features.

"Exactly. I won't have you leaving me alone here, YN. You promised that I'll always have you, didn't you? And I promised to be yours forever"

You frozed as you remember the promise you said to him months ago. You meant it. You did. But that was before you learned that there is still a way back to your real world after giving up for so long. However, you did promised him and you can't go back on your word.

Bowing your head in shame, you nodded. "Yes, I did. I remember my oath that day, Thranduil." A feeling of frustration and mixed feelings made its way to your heart.

"You know I love you. I do. I just miss my family so much. I wonder what they are doing in my world. I wonder if they are grieving over me or still patiently hoping for my return. Am I selfish, my love?" You looked up at him as tears stream down your cheeks.

Thranduil felt his heart clench as he saw your sorrow. He can't stand to see the anguish in your eyes as it overflows with your tears. He gathered you in his arms and let you cry against his shoulders.

"I'm here, meleth nin. I'm here. Please don't cry." He whispered comforting words and before long, you felt drowsy and fall asleep in his hold.

Thranduil carefully put you in the bed and covered you with blanket. He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

From that day on, he decreed an order that you are not allowed to leave his kingdom and that anyone who try to help you escape will be executed.

*End of Flashback*

"You've changed Thranduil" You gaze at him with such disappointment that he falters for a moment.

"No, please don't say that meleth nin. Don't look at me like that. I love you. I can't let you out of my grasp. I can't let you go. Ever." He pulled you closer and tilted your chin so you were looking straight at him.

The sight made you tremble. His eyes which were once full of adoration and pure love for you were now filled with dark obsession.

"Resist me no more, my starlight. Stay here. I will take care of you. I will love and worship you forever."

He back you slowly into the bed and you didn't notice until you trip and lay sprawled against his bedsheets in a vulnerable state.

You tried to get up but he lightly pushed you down so he towers over you.

"No, no, I have to return home. I need to see my family again. I can still come back here Thranduil. I won't leave you forever." You tried to reassure your lover.

Shadows loomed in his face and when he finally look at you, something dark and dangerous radiated from his being.

You gasped, crawling away from him towards the center of the bed as he followed after you. You grab his pillow to defend yourself.

"Okay- stop. Don't get any closer, Thranduil. You're scaring me."

The blank look in his eyes shifted to that of a predator finally catching its prey as he reach you. A smile of dark insanity painted on his lips. He take hold of the pillow separating you two and throws it to the side.

"You know, I've always wanted to marry you, my starlight. In our culture there are two ways one can get married. First is by traditional exchange of vows and the other-" He paused, pushing you down once more as he hovered above you. "-is by being one in body, two souls bonded forever. If I may be honest, I much prefer the latter."

His fingers slowly slid down your body, touch as light as feather as it passes through your neck, the valley of your breast, down to your stomach and settling on your lower abdomen.

Your breath hitched as you watch him, goosebumps rising on you skin as you feel your heart thumping loudly.

"We will be one tonight, my love. And I will plant my seed inside your fertile womb. Since you miss your family so much, we will have one of our own- a much bigger family. We will have a dozen or more elflings running around the kingdom. And you will soon forget that silly ambition in your mind. I told you before. You won't leave me. Ever. For you are mine and I am yours."

With that he sealed his promise with a passionate kiss as he consume your being, leaving you breathless and gasping for more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I didn't expect this oneshot to be longer than what I originally planned lol. Anyway, I've been obsessing over Thranduil for weeks now and I thought if he'd be the one going yandere for me, I would immediately give in 😂

But yeah unfortunately he's just a fictional character sooo! Anyway thanks for reading up this far.

Hope you have a great day and stay safe guys! :)))

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rafesapologist · 1 year ago

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part eight

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing, mature themes, angst, sad-ish rafe, smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT, 18+)

author's note: this one is to (hopefully) make up for having to cut the last chapter short due to personal stuff. enjoy my loves

You were pissed at JJ.

Matter of fact, it was much more than that; you loathed him. He was supposed to be your best friend, your confidant, yet he was too caught up within his fit of jealousy to realize that your time with Rafe Cameron was merely an act for the sake of your friends' livelihood. Hell, if anyone knew that it should have been JJ considering he was half of the reason the whole scheme was conspired in the first place.

You wondered what his real problem was and where it came from, considering that he had never treated you like less than until you brought up going to Midsummers with Rafe. From internal dialogue, you demanded answers and to know what had him so affronted. Out of all people, you assumed that he would have your back through the entire plan, however he was doing quite the opposite.

"I can't fucking believe him. I mean - Who does he think he is?" You remonstrated, a scowl tainting your facial features ever so palpably.

"Relax princess," Rafe let out a soft partly suppressed laugh, "how does he have you this riled up in the first place?"

Despite your indignation, you froze at his question. You knew that you couldn't flat out tell him the real reason why you and JJ got into it, for obvious reasons, so what was the next best option? Lie.

"He told me I was spending too much time with Pope and got mad at me." You blurted out before you could actually think about what you were really saying. You avoided eye contact with Rafe in hopes that he wouldn't find any evidence of deception in your expression, opting to completely circumvent his observing gaze by shifting your body away from him while you blankly stared out the car window.

"Pope? I don't think I ever see you with him unless JJ is around too." His brows furrowed.

"I mean I am close with him kind of," you added, "I used to study with him all the time after school, cause he's like a genius or whatever. But it wasn't like that. Pope's too innocent." You shrugged, your words spewing from your lips with little to no thought as your only goal was to steer the boy away from any suspicion of you.

"Are you sure it's nothing more than that?

Your eyes widened in disbelief as your head snapped towards Rafe's direction while he continued to drive, "Are you serious?" You catechized in a state of dubiety.

"Just wondering." The sandy-haired boy stated as though he asked nothing wrong, which only seemed to set you off more on top of your prior situation at hand.

"For your information, no it's not more than that, and two, why do you care?" You folded your arms in your seat as you turned to face Rafe with intent to interrogate him on his unappreciated inquisitiveness.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." He glanced over at you with a suggestive look written on his face and in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine and planted those same old butterflies in your stomach.

"Well, I did ask." You pestered in hopes it would provoke some sort of reaction out of him, which seemed to be easy for you to do.

"I just don't think you deserve to settle for some Pogue dude who can't come close to giving you a real future." Rafe kept his eyes pointed straight ahead onto the road in front of him as he spoke, making you wonder if he just havering or not.

"And what, you can?" You scoffed.

"I would." He declared in a way that implied to you that he was more than sure of himself and what exactly he was promising to you, although it seemed rather delusive and improbable to happen.

"Yeah. I'm sure you tell every girl that." You heaved a displeased sigh to yourself as you slouched back into your seat, refusing to believe that the Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince himself, would genuinely be the type to go out of his way to make the effort for any woman, unless he was trying to sleep with her.

"You really have no faith in me, pretty girl." Rafe breathed out a half-hearted chuckle at your lack of credence in his word, however he must have taken some amusement in your incredulity judging by the way his continual smirk stayed present on his face.

"Shut up, Cameron. Just take me home."

"I have a better idea, first." He replied, his lips curling up into a suppressed thin-lip smile.

"Great. Now I'm being kidnapped too." You rolled your eyes once more, rubbing your forehead in distress.

"It's not kidnapping if you willingly got in my car, y/n."

"It's kidnapping if you're taking me places I didn't agree to go to!" You protested, flailing your hands in the air at him, which of course only earned you a chuckle on his part.

"Would you rather me take you back to JJ?" Rafe threatened flippantly as the car suddenly pulled into yet another empty parking lot. Typical.

"Would have rathered you take me home but whatever." You mumbled to yourself with your arms still folded over your chest as you peered up from your seat to observe your new surroundings, which deemed foreign to you.

"Rafe- Why are we at another parking lot? You know you're really not clever with your date ide-"

"Just trust me." Rafe shushed as he turned the car off and exited, only to meet you at the passenger side door to open it for you as he had done previously. Sure it was an almost banal thing of him to do, but you had to admit that part of you enjoyed his acts of courtesy.

You remained hesitant with him, however your curiosity was a much greater component in you decision making that had led you to following him anyways. You treaded closely behind him as he headed into the direction of a purportedly seclusive area of a place that appeared to lead to a beach, judging by the way that sand had come into your view. You fumbled through a small patch of dead trees as you made your way to a wide open shore with an absence of debris that beaches you had seen normally had.

"This is where I usually go to get away." Rafe suddenly confessed while he took in the scenic view ahead of him.

"So this is the spot you take all your hookups to. Nice." You nodded with your lips pressed together, confused as to why you were even there in the first place.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" He rolled his eyes, sighing as he sat down on an individual log that rested in the sand.

"So I've been told."

"Just come sit with me." Rafe gingerly pleaded to you while he combed a hand through his straight locks that displayed blends of wheaty and brown undertones, combining to create a dimensional shade of dirty blond that was unique to his features, "Please?"

You wanted to resist his request initially and continue your usual back-and-forth banter that the two of you always kept up with, however you saw something different in Rafe's eyes when he asked you to sit with him. A new candor that had washed over him that had you obeying his call.

Both of you had sat besides each other for a few minutes, basking in each other's silence as the sounds of the distant waves crashed upon the shore harmoniously. You kept your gaze directly at the view of the ocean ahead, your fingers interlocked under your knees while you sat with your legs up to your chest as you took in the scenery around you. Although your vision was aimed at the oceanfront, you could feel the burning stare of those familiar azure eyes trained onto you, causing your body temperature to rise rapidly.

"I came here a lot when I was younger." Rafe broke the silence abruptly, causing you to snap your head in his direction with your brows furrowed in confusion. "To get away from my parents when they were fighting, and sometimes from Sarah." He continued on, a quiet dry laugh escaping his rosy-pink lips.

"Why did you need to get away from them?" You asked rather lowly, scared to say the wrong thing in such an earnest moment.

The blond sighed deeply in response as his eyes began to scan the area ahead of him intently before he spoke. "They fought a lot, my mom and dad. Sometimes to the point where I thought they were going to kill each other," his nose wrinkled as a display of discomfort, "but I was the oldest so everyone expected me to protect Sarah and Wheezie when things got bad like that, and I did. Every single time. But, what I think they failed to realize was that it was just as uneasy for me to witness as it was them. I didn't wanna see or hear them fight either, but I had no choice. I needed to get away from it at some point, so I started coming here."

Your lips formed into a significant frown as he spoke, taking in his shattering words and that cold look that casted over his face that you knew was only to cover up from the pain he felt reliving the events he was describing. You would have never guessed there was so much hiding beneath that posh demeanor of his, however you felt as though there was more that had yet to be said.

"Did they ever notice when you'd run away like that?" You asked sheepishly.

"Nobody noticed when I was gone. They were only concerned when they needed me for something again." Your heart began to break piece-by-piece as Rafe's revelations had began to unfold slowly. The tragedy in what he was telling you was beginning to make your throat swell as tears threatened your eyes, asking yourself how a family could be so cruel to one of their own, a scenario you were quite familiar with yourself.

"It only ended once they finally got divorced and my mother ran away back to her hometown," Rafe seemed to wince at the statement, scratching the back of his head to mask his reaction, "I never saw or heard from her again after that. Honestly I couldn't tell you if she was alive or dead right now, crazy as it sounds."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line once they began to quiver as you digested Rafe's story. You forced yourself to look away from him and focus your attention to your hands that fiddled in your lap, knowing that if you looked at him any longer you would surely lose your composure.

"Rafe.. I-I'm so sorry." You breathed out quietly, a weakness in your voice that made him turn his head to observe the state that you were in. It was safe to say that he was staring at you once again, considering the intensity of his glare could be felt from miles away, but you refused to look up and reveal to him how much distress the detailed account of his previous life had put you in.

"My experience isn't quite the same as yours, but I understand your pain, Rafe. In a sense, I do." You uttered with your eyes glued to the sand below your feet.

"What do you mean?" Rafe asked, watching you keenly as you spoke.

"My family is pretty fucked up, too. Not in the same exact way as yours may be, but still, fucked." You let out a dry laugh, kicking the sand between your toes away from you, "My mother is verbally abusive and neglectful, and my dad is just, barely ever home. Sometimes I wonder if it's because he's trying to get away from her, although I wouldn't blame him for that, but I needed him many times in my life and he was never there. Plenty of times she was saying these God awful things to me, tearing me down for most of my life, and the one person who was supposed to be there to protect me just... Wasn't." You shook your head as it hung low to the ground, fighting off the urge to cry that overcame you as you recalled the burning memory of your childhood.

"It's not my place to speak on what they went through, but JJ and John B came from homes similar to mine. Absent, hell even abusive if that's what you wanna call it, parents. We basically raised ourselves, I mean we still are essentially. At times I would think that I still don't know any better than that nine year old girl who wondered how she was going to make it in life given the circumstances she was put into. Part of me will always resent my parents for doing this to me." Your voice cracked as you spoke, a queasy feeling building up in your stomach as you basically bared your soul to some boy from Figure Eight.

"Hey," Rafe cooed as he placed his large hand ontop of your thigh, "just because you were dealt with a bad hand growing up doesn't mean you are subjected to a bad life, y/n. They can't determine how far you're going to go, and you'll sure as hell get a lot farther than them I'm sure."

"Rafe," you shooked your head at him as you quickly wiped a single tear that escaped your eye, "I live on the Cut. I'd have to work two jobs to even come close to being comfortable, and even then, it still wouldn't be enough to get by long term. I have to work ten times harder than anyone else on this island because of the situation I was born into, the family I was born into. It'll be a hassle for the rest of my life. I don't get to live in a mansion and own some fancy yacht because my dad has the money, I wasn't given that privilege in life."

Your words wounded Rafe a little bit, as much as he hated to admit, but he knew you had a point and for that he couldn't be mad at you for it. He knew you were at an unfair disadvantage simply because of who your parents were and what little effort they made into giving you a congenial life, and it hurt him knowing you were made to suffer because of other people's foolish mistakes and selfishness.

"You deserve a happy life just as much as anyone else, actually probably even more than most." The blue-eyed boy urged with ardent feelings present in his tone.

"You're just saying that." You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, nudging him softly in disagreement to his statement.

"I'm not, y/n. I mean it, genuinely. You've been through so much and here you are, still so lively and caring. Most people in your shoes would have let their past turn them heartless, but you.. You're infectious and kind despite having gone through hell. I don't think you give yourself enough credit for that." His words were sweet and genuine in a way that had your heart practically melting in his hands, a feeling you had yet to feel so authentically as you did in that moment as you sat there on a vacant beach, staring into the mesmerizing lazuline eyes of Rafe Cameron.

Your lips stayed slightly parted subconsciously as you found yourself getting lost in the current moment that was unfolding between you and the Kook Prince himself, a scene you never would have imagined yourself being in three weeks before. You watched as his pupils widened, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your swollen lips. His free hand ghosted your forearm as it made its way up to your cheek, wiping the reminisce of tears that trailed down your face. You peered up at him coyly, staring back at him through your eyelashes as you gently rested your head into his warm open hand while his thumb slowly caressed the soft skin.

"So beautiful." Rafe whispered under his breath as he looked at you with full admiration that made your legs feel weak. You weren't entirely sure why, perhaps it had been the vulnerability you were subjected to in that moment, but you felt like crying again. This time however, it wasn't from sadness or pain, but relief. A relief that for the first time in your entire life, someone had saw you for who you were and was willing to provide you a safety net for you to let down your walls and fall freely into them. Sure your friends came close to it, but with Rafe it was far different. The feeling was intense and invoked a child-like excitement, even joy, out of you. It made you feel giddy inside, as though you couldn't help but smile in his presence even when he wasn't saying a word.

The scent of a warm spice and musk fragrance invaded your space and filled the air around you, tangling you into an inebriated trance fueled by the essence of desire and impulse. You felt as though you were being taunted by Rafe's refusal to move from the position he was in, yet igniting a flame inside of you by his voluptuary touch. It was clear that he was waiting for your invite despite knowing you had craved his taste once before, but he needed your to confirm that the drive to do so was still lingering inside of you. He watched as you took matters into your own hands and climbed back onto his lap, a seat that had basically become yours after the moment the two of you had in his car.

Unlike the time before, you wanted this moment to be one of undescribable vehement, like you had never been touched properly in your lifetime. Rafe remained silent and kept his eyes glued to you and your figure, holding your hips steady against his waist.

"I know you're going to think I'm crazy for saying this right now, but Rafe," you swallowed hard as you struggled to form a coherent sentence under his stare, "I'm ready for this now."

He chuckled tauntingly, "Ready for what, pretty girl?"

"Don't make me say it." You whined, throwing your head back in aggravation.

"Dunno what you're talking about, angel." Rafe smirked as he shrugged, attempting to act as though he was blissfully unaware to the way that your hips your bucked up against him impatiently.

"I want you, idiot." You rolled your eyes at him, groaning as the tension grew unbearably painful between your thighs as the fabric of his khakis rubbed against you.

"Really? I couldn't tell." The devilish boy formed a smug look across his face as he took notice of your eagerness to get ahold of him. He scanned your frame, noticing the hazy look that had clouded over your normally doe-like eyes. Rafe was a man of great strength, but when it came to you, he was putty in your hands.

"Rafe, do something, please." You begged, unable to fully move your hips as he held onto them firmly, keeping you in place.

"Tell me what you want me to do and I will, princess." He murmured into your ear lowly as his lips ghosted your neck before landing onto the sweet spot he had found on you before, immediately earning a whimper to escape your lips quietly.

"Touch me, anything." You answered vaguely as your impatience consumed you more and more by the second, unable to contain the burning in your core.

"Hmm, where do you want me to touch you?" His voice remained low a husky, enough to make you want to collapse in his arms. You removed your hand from behind his neck and snaked it down to the side of your hip, grabbing one of his wrists and re-positioning it right along the center between your thighs.

Your mouth fell agape as Rafe obeyed your wishes and began moving his fingers up and down your blazing core, adding more pressure as your hips grinded against his long digits. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of what exactly you were doing, except you were far too into it to care about the reality of it afterwards. You found that your desire only increased as he teased you through the fabric of your shorts, agonizingly. Without a second thought, you placed your hand onto of his and laced your fingers together, forcing him to speed up his movements and add even more pressure.

Rafe seemed to have taken note of your demands as he removed his hand and began unbuckling your denim shorts swiftly before sliding his fingers underneath your lace thong briskly. Your head fell back instinctively, soft moans escaping your lips that fueled Rafe's ego proudly. He found himself stuck in a daze as he watched you fall under the spell of his trained fingers as they massaged through your folds hastily, causing you to press your hips against him more as they bucked up against his hands.

Just when you found prodigious pleasure in the way Rafe's fingers felt against you, shock waves coursed through your body like electricity once you felt two of his lengthy digits curl up inside of you. Your eyes rolled back, taking in the bliss that was Rafe Cameron's two fingers thrusting into you at a pace that made your legs feel like jello. Your moans became erratic and uncontrollable as the sandy-haired boy pushed his fingers up further into you, gliding them in and out rapidly as he continuously pressed against your cervix with force.

"Does that feel good, princess?" Rafe mumbled against your collarbone as he kissed along the prominent bone passionately, trying to withhold himself from losing control of his own.

"Don't stop." You whined as you begged him to continue, grinding against his fingers keenly with hopes to feel as much of him as you possible could, a state of euphoria approaching you slowly.

"R-Rafe, I can't take it." You pleaded, wincing as his pace continued to fasten inside of you.

"C'mon angel, you can do it. You're almost there." He coaxed you softly as he sinisterly placed his thumb onto your clit and began unhesitatingly rubbing swift circles against it, sending your mind and body into a frenzy.

You placed your hands onto his shoulders and gripped onto them tightly as you began to reach your peak, your thighs shaking and your legs giving out as the muscles within them began to spasm uncontrollably. A throbbing feeling reached your core as you continued grinding against Rafe's fingers with speed as you chased your high, your moans becoming explicit and noisy.

"Cum on my fingers, baby, it's okay. Let it out." Rafe ushered as he kept up his movements while your body convulsed against him, feeling as rush go through your body as explosions set off within your core region. You felt an immense release as you came undone along his fingers, crying out as you felt an overwhelming amount of pleasure take over your body.

Rafe removed his hand out of you, buttoning your shorts back up and zipping them for you as he pecked your cheek gently.

"Are you okay?" He asked, scanning your features for any sign of pain or distress.

"Mm, yeah I'm good." You wearily hummed as you collapsed into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck while you closed your eyes, taking in the events that had just occured as well as the aftermath of the pleasure that obtained your body.

The hubristic boy chuckled at your state of defeat, "You did good, pretty girl." A small, thin lipped smile formed at the corners of his mouth as he caressed up your hips and thighs slowly, "C'mon I know you're tired, I'll take you home, or wherever. I've gotta head back to my place, anyways."

"Why?" You groaned, not wanting to removing yourself from the daydream you were currently in.

"My dad texted me, said he needs my help tonight." Rafe shrugged.

"Did he say with what?" You asked, reality now coming back to you at the mention of his infamous father.

"Yeah, sort of. He said he needed help moving some cargo onto this ship he owns. I guess it's heavy." Rafe's words came out rather bluntly and plain, as though he was talking about the weather or his weekly schedule. His statement replayed in your head a few times before you sat up and attempted to make sense of what he was talking about.

"Like just random stuff?" You questioned, pining for further answers as the topic sparked your interest and concern.

"Yes and no," he scratched the back of his head, scrunching up his nose as he lowered his voice, "but if I tell you, promise me you won't run back to your Pogue friends and tell them." Rafe asserted with seriousness, staring into your eyes as he held the sides of your arms firmly.

"Okay," you held your hands up in defense, causing his body to relax, "I promise I won't."

"See my dad and I took this trip to the bahamas a while ago, he said it was a business trip and that he wanted me to tag along for whatever reason. Come to find out, as soon as we get there, he tells me about this gold he has hidden and how he wants me to help him ship it to Switzerland so that nobody else can get ahold of it, since it's ours anyway."

Your body froze in place, staring back at Rafe was those horrifying words slipped out of his mouth without a second thought as he found sanctuary within you, despite the lack of longevity in your relationship thus far. You thought about your friends all of the sudden, and your mouth felt dry, knowing that this was exactly what they needed to know and stop before Rafe and his dad could put them in a position where the gold would be out of their reach for good.

You felt an immense pressure with the new information given to you, a burden weighing heavy on your shoulders. Your mind raced as you replayed his statement over and over again, wondering what you should do and who you should tell first, eager to relay the word back to your friends as soon as possible.

"Oh, okay that makes sense." You let out a small, half-hearted laugh, rubbing your upper arm slowly. "But, uh, Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you just drop me off at the chateau? I think I'm gonna sleep there tonight.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #obx #rafe angst #rafe imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafecameron #obx4

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redux-iterum · 2 months ago

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Salute to a Brief, Precious Companion

I just came home from the vet. If you missed the notice on Friday, Rocky has been euthanized due to failing health. I'm a little bit of a mess right now, so apologies if this post isn't coherent or it's overly-emotional. I just feel I should pay my respects and tell you all Rocky's story. Be prepared. This is a long one.

This was Rocky. Nicknames included Wocky, Rocky-Pocky, Rockadocious, and Little Man. He was an incredibly sweet and incredibly skinny critter who somehow even Jupiter outsized. I only had him for 7 or 8 months, but what lovely months they were.

Rocky came to me from a horrible situation - someone who is technically part of the family (and do I dearly wish they weren't) is one of the worst pet owners I've ever seen in my life, and he regrettably had Rocky for over 10 years. That is, 10 years trapped in a single room with a connected bathroom where his rarely-cleaned litterbox (singular, shared with multiple cats) was located. He didn't have anything: no comfort, no entertainment, pellets that could barely pass for cat food, and no attention. This was supposedly to save him from a dog that had a habit of killing every small animal it came across, but once that dog died, as did Rocky's companions, he still wasn't allowed out of that room because the idiot didn't want cat fur all over his furniture. Mind you, his dishes in the pantries had dust all over them, if that tells you how he lives his life.

Anyway, a relative of his called me and begged me to take Rocky, being unable to stand his solitude and wails for affection any time she went to that house. I wasn't looking for another cat at the time, but I agreed, on the condition that the former owner pay for the initial vet visits and whatever treatments were needed. Rocky was very visibly unwell when I saw him - underweight, crooked-backed and smelling of sickness. I never had a high opinion of his owner in the first place, but as time went on and I saw the effects of Rocky's ailments and the consequences of him never seeing a vet in those 10 years... well. If murder was legal.

Rocky's first 2 weeks in my house were disastrous. He attacked Moses, Jupiter and Moonshine any time he saw them, had no idea that he wasn't allowed to just pee wherever he wanted, and was frightened and confused by toys. It took several months for him to understand the concept of batting a ball around for fun, and he never did fully get that sleeping on a soft pile of blankets is much nicer than a hard table. I was extremely close to seeking out another home for him, certain that this wasn't going to work and I had just ruined the energy of the house for my other poor cats.

But somehow, Rocky turned around! He realized the other cats weren't a threat to him (all three of them are excellent at handling tense situations with fellow felines, and they never struck back or hissed at him during his rampage), and started seeking them out for companionship. Of course, it had been a few years since he'd seen another living cat, and he'd kind of ruined his initial impression on them with his poor behavior, so it took a while for them to fully relax around him. He and Jupiter very quickly were forced to become friends as both of them wanted on my lap at all times and weren't willing to give up their seat to each other. They eventually sought each other out and would sleep together even without me being there.

Rocky practiced being friendly on Jupiter, including grooming him. Amusingly, Rocky didn't quite remember how to groom another cat, so he ended up licking the fur the wrong way and getting Jupiter all slobbery, like a dog had licked his head. Jupiter never minded, purring along and letting Rocky do his thing.

Moonshine was more hesitant to let Rocky sit on her or curl up by her, but Moonshine's never held a grudge in her life and conceded towards the latter third of our time with him.

Moses...

Well, y'all know Moses. He was just as grumpy with this other old man as he is with everyone else. Though interestingly, over this weekend, he was unusually kind to Rocky, and actively laid down next to him and let Rocky touch him.

In fact, everyone was extra nice this weekend. I suspect they knew something was up from my energy and mood. They were sticking close to me as well.

As Rocky got more comfortable in the house, he really showed his personality. He followed me around everywhere, couldn't force out a loud meow if his life depended on it, wanted on my lap at all times (making up for a decade of loneliness, I guess), and demonstrated a sweetness and cheerfulness that couldn't be beat. He was, by far, the best at taking medicine that I have ever experienced with a pet. He would swallow his pills with no struggle and allowed me to give him shots of vitamins without so much as a twitch. It's extra-impressive for how long he went without those things. Really, his only fault was that he would have accidents around the house - everything else about him was wonderful.

I knew he was a hospice case when I took him in. He was sick and old; he wasn't long for this world, whatever I did. I still feel like I failed him for only giving him half a year of a comfortable, happy life compared to the decade of misery he experienced. Everyone tells me that it's quality over quantity, and that he got to live a wonderful last bit, and I should be proud of that. I hear them. But my friends can attest that I've spent the last two weeks kicking a tantrum about how unfair it is that he didn't get more time with me. I won't pretend I'm the very best pet owner in the whole wide world, but god knows I'm at least better than his previous owner, and I provided everything I had, whatever it costed. I felt like I owed Rocky at least a year of joy and love, and he didn't even get that. It's not fair. It's just not fair.

It's amazing how attached you can get to an animal you know will die soon.

Rocky's ashes will be coming to me in a couple weeks. He'll join the rest of my pets on my desk, and that way he'll stay with me. I'm grateful that he got to fall asleep in my arms and that his pain and weakness is over. Wherever he is, he's comfortable.

I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you, Rocky. You deserved the world.

#real talk #readmore #pets #i speak

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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

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The Orcas' Tale - Chapter II

Right choice, baby! And we get some alone and exploration time with Krill, isn't that lovely? Hope you guys will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ♥ Krill's reference is getting drawn up just as I post this chapter, so it's double as exciting for me to see my descriptions come to life!

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Manhandling, Threats, Dub-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

"Fine, then…"

Taking a deep breath, you looked between the three expectant pairs of eyes before locking onto Krill's. None of them created a feeling of safety, but of all of them, Krill was the one you had interacted with the most. Gulping, you nodded at him, not needing to speak his name out loud before a smug grin parted his lips, showcasing the rows of sharp teeth behind them.

"Everyone else, out," he ordered, his voice an assertive command as he lifted his body further out of the water, slowly clawing his way over to you. Lyr let out the longest, most disappointed sigh you had ever heard someone make, its high tone reminding you of the sharp whistle of a teapot. Still, he slipped into the pool with a taunting, "I've got something better to do anyway."

Nerrocan said nothing. When you pried your eyes from Krill's, you saw his upper body slumping, but the next second he jumped into the pool head-first and was gone. You had no idea if he was disappointed or relieved as he made his exit as fast as possible. And yet, you wished he would have stayed for some reason. Maybe just so you wouldn't have to face this giant predator, stalking towards you on his hands and arms, alone. Have someone be the voice of reason since the differences between you two were just too big to find common ground.

With a surprised squeak, you were ambushed by Krill, his arms wrapping around you before he turned you both around, squeezing and pressing you against his chest. With a loud "Uff!" you fell to your butt, only to realize the ground you were sitting on was wet and slick, making you shoot out your hands to find hold. However, it wasn't ground you were sitting on. It was a body.

It explained the weird sensation and friction against your wet suit, and you were always on the brink of slipping off as you realized in horror that Krill had pulled you on top of him while lying under you. A throaty laugh escaped the merman as he grabbed you by the forearms, having watched your struggles for a bit before steading you on top of him and placing your hands on his pecs. You bit your own lip as a moment of curiosity overcame you, seeing the sheer difference in size; the sensation of your teeth against your lips tearing you out of it.

You wanted to pull your hands away, but all you could do was release a gasp as Krill pressed his claws to your skin, a quiet warning. Finally, you looked up, puncturing red orbs watching your every move with a drilling intensity. Not even the blue light could make his eyes any less piercing and brilliant, almost as if they were made from rubies.

"Relax," he purred, the sound rumbling through his whole body and transferring onto yours. It didn't help you calm down, but you forced yourself to listen and focus, not letting the surprise and panic overtake you and upset him. Krill watched as you straightened your back, pulling your legs a bit higher so you'd find some hold on his massive body, your toes barely able to touch the ground when fully stretched anyway. You felt like a child on top of a way too big horse, legs barely able to go around his midriff, but the chortles and chuckles coming from him seemed to indicate Krill didn't mind as you tried to get more comfortable.

Sensing your newly acquired balance, he dropped his hands from your arms, one to capture your wrist, lifting it up so he could see. Krill had settled on what you assumed before was a bed, on top of the soft seal fur, slightly leaning against the back wall. A look over your shoulder revealed that his tail fin was still splashing in the pool, confirming your assumption that there wouldn't be enough space for their whole bodies inside this cave.

Flicking your wrist back and forth between his thumb and pointer, Krill hummed thoughtfully—a sound you'd come to hear more often as he explored onwards. First, his hands went to your legs, wet palms, webbing, and claws driving over your wetsuit, the fabric getting stuck on the gold rings he wore, briefly squeezing your thighs before he focused his attention on your right foot, scooping it up in his palm and demanding it closer to his face so he could watch you wiggle your toes. With bated breath, you put on the greatest show for him, making all five of your toes rise simultaneously and in turns as best as you could. Your effort paid off as Krill chuckled again, helping you back into your position on top of him by placing your foot where you had settled it before.

"You're really freakin' soft," he mumbled under his breath as his hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing the air out of your lungs but never pressing longer than necessary. It made you realize that he wasn't out to hurt you. In fact, he might actually be as curious about you as you were about him. "I noticed it before, but that's just…"

The feeling of his claws softly digging into your back made you arch. The tight muscles beneath you rubbed against your privates, the wet suit not giving as much coverage as you would have liked at that moment. Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, immediately burning up from embarrassment and averting your eyes while Krill's inquisitive hands drove beneath your arms, wrapping around your chest. He probed at your joints, pushing your shoulders back, your soft skin so very different from the hard surface his body created. You wondered if someone more built and muscular than you could even come close to the firmness of Krill. Inhaling deeply, you dared to look up at him again, noticing how his eyes shot up to meet yours, his grin widening as he pulled you a bit higher on top of his chest. "What about you? Aren't you curious?"

You gulped.

Yes, you were terribly curious about these creatures. No, you couldn't let this get the best of you. But, God. You wanted to learn more about them. Everything you could find, you wanted to know, preserving your knowledge in a thorough report forever. These creatures were dangerous and too sentient while also harboring animalistic traits to be comfortable with. But so were countless other creatures on this planet. And you just had a chance to research them thoroughly.

"Can I?" you asked, holding your breath as you wondered if you were testing your luck. This may have been a test. Maybe Krill would refuse, leading you on because he could tell your curiosity from the sparkle in your eyes. "Be my guest," he suddenly interrupted your thoughts, wrapping his palms around your arms to guide them forward. You were back to touching him, your hand barely enough to capture any part of him, but it guided your attention to really look at what you were dealing with.

His muscles should not have awed you as much as they did, looking almost the exact same as a human bodybuilder's who was dehydrated before a show. You weren't sure if he could even dehydrate as a mermaid, but since his skin was so taut, maybe he merely lacked fat in these regions. However, what made you wonder the most was the jewelry he wore. At least they looked like jewelry.

You leaned forward, one of his hands instinctively reaching up, supporting your lower body as you went for the sharp teeth dangling from a leathery necklace. "Are those… sharks?" you asked absentmindedly, knowing the answer without even needing one from him. "Yup!" Krill replied, pride swinging in his voice as he lifted one up in his hand as well. "One for every bastard I killed."

You hummed in acknowledgment, aware that real orcas and sharks didn't get along well, either. Still, with the words of the voice you heard before nagging in the back of your mind, another question arose. "Are they real sharks, or are they…" Swallowing the rest of the sentence, you let go of the tooth, gesturing at Krill instead.

"Oh, they're like me, alright."

He immediately understood your question, grinning from ear to ear as your eyes widened. You took in the size of the teeth dangling from his neck again and realized that these shark mermaids must have been giant as well. "Isn't it dangerous?" you whispered, fear crawling through your bones again, making your body prickle. However, instead of an answer, Krill suddenly picked you up, lifting you into the air as he twisted his body to the left side, placing you next to him and propping his head on his hand.

"Hm, for you? Maybe. Us? Not so much. You have an alright head on your shoulders. You should know who wins these kinds of fights."

Tapping his pointer finger claw to your forehead, you instinctively closed your eyes, only for him to chuckle at your reaction. "Orcas," you guessed, knowing very well that the real animals put up a good fight, but a shark had no chance against a group of orcas.

"Clever," Krill chuckled, the arm he used to hold himself up wrapping around you from behind, pulling you closer while he used his free right arm to direct your hand back to his body. Forcing your palm to smooth over his tail, you could have almost mistaken him enjoying your exploration more than even you did, but you wouldn't wait for him to ask again to take advantage. Kneeling, you were high enough to look over him, giving you the advantage of height to see. The patterns on his body were remarkably close to an orca, and you realized that until now, you still somewhat had doubts about their heritage. Doubts that were slowly dissolving.

Scars littered his skin, paling the black ever so often. Scars that were long and must have been deep to remain on his otherwise taut and strong body. You could only guess his age, but you didn't think Krill was too old to heal from wounds, so these must have been from fights, the marks looking like scratches that gave away who he must have fought with. The space between his hips and tail was covered by a leathery, brown belt, the fabric wrapping around him completely. There was even a small sachet dangling from it, and what surprised you more: a dagger. Sheathed in the same leather, the silver metal grip still had a remarkable resemblance to a human sword, but it was nowhere near your hand size. An authentic mermaid relict and you were dying of curiosity from it. However, you doubted Krill would give it to you, given the questionable captivity you were in. You were almost too scared to ask him, but the question resolved in a matter of seconds.

"Not there," Krill snapped suddenly as you lowered your hand to the top of his tail, on the inside between his human body and the fish one.

"Sorry!" you squeaked, taken aback by the sudden refusal and jumping away with your hands raised defensively. Krill grumbled a little, then suddenly decided to roll over onto his stomach. You got to your feet just in time to not be caught underneath his body, and Krill let out a satisfied sigh as he laid flatly on top of the ledge. But when you looked up at him, his head resting on his arms, you were met with his gaze, as intense and burning as ever.

"Continue," he ordered, fortifying your belief he might actually be enjoying this. You gulped, now feeling a bit more hesitant after the sudden outburst just now. Being unable to talk about the dagger you saw was disappointing, but you decided to stay on his good graces for now.

Stepping closer, the first thing that caught your attention came as a surprise. "A dorsal fin," you muttered, looking at the triangle on top of his fish half. You hadn't noticed it before, but you realized it must have been uncomfortable to lay on it. Even so, Krill didn't complain, nor did he when you placed your hands on it, even squeezing tentatively into the tissue, realizing it was almost the same as the ones you had studied before. That, admittedly, did get you a bit excited.

"Sorry," you whispered again as Krill's tail flinched from your touch, and he grumbled a little. But to your surprise, you found his eyes close as you searched for his face. It was both honorable that he seemed to be relaxing, as well as a bit offensive. You posed no threat to him. He had no reason to watch you. Leaving his dorsal fin, you continued upwards, your gentle touch tracing up the spine of his tail to where it connected to his upper body. You were almost scared to press, but you did so anyway, finding his tail to be a bit more tender than his human parts. Unfortunately, you couldn't feel his spine beneath it. But you found something else that piqued your interest.

"Are those from sharks, too?" you asked, tracing the scars on his body with your fingers.

"Sharks and others. I don't keep count of what bit and scratched me, just of the things I killed for trying."

"So there are many different species of your kind down here, huh?"

"Guess so. Too many to count or even remember. All that matters is protecting the pod and making sure we have enough to eat. Oh, and having fun while at it, of course."

You could hear the grin on his face as he added the last sentence. The cruelty of orcas was not something you were unaware of. Apparently, this merfolk had the same definition of "fun" as their animal counterparts. It wasn't a surprise, but somehow it felt like a disappointment as you had credited them for being better than that. Scary, nonetheless.

"Oh, but this one-" Reaching his hand back, Krill found yours, guiding it to a big scratch on his back, just above his tail. "-Mom was so angry when I got this one. I went out on my own to hunt for food for her since she was pregnant with Lyr. It was the first time I hunted alone, and I got ambushed by sharks. One of them got me good. They wanted my head just because they hate us."

Rightfully so, you thought but kept it to yourself. Given how Krill had admitted to being just as cruel as other orcas, you could only imagine the severity of hate between these two species. Krill raised his body briefly, revealing that the scar wrapped around to the front.

"Somehow, Mom must have realized where I was, and she came barging in with all the others to save me. But I will never forget the scolding I received while I got treated for my injuries. My aunts kept telling her to calm down because she was pregnant and I was in pain, but she shut them all down. She's the leader; her word goes above everyone else. And now, well... I blame that day for Lyr not being right in his head."

There was no bite to his words, only fond memories and a chuckle at the end about the joke he made. "Haven't talked about that in a while," he noted after a moment of silence. His eyes opened, but he stared off into the distance, unfocused. "I wonder if it's my fault…"

"What is? What do you mean Lyr's not right in his head?" The questions spilled out before you could stop yourself. Curiosity would kill you one day, but you couldn't help it. You had long settled by his side, innocently listening to his words and, unbeknownst to you, relaxed while Krill spoke, his voice even and melodic, and the conversation comfortable. But when he curled his body so he could look at you, the red of his eyes made you tense up immediately, never letting you forget that you were in no position to ask your questions.

Krill eyed you, perhaps suspiciously for the first time. As if he was wondering whether the information he could tell would give you a chance to hurt him. Him or anyone else. However, you weren't a threat, and you lowered your eyes apologetically for daring to overstep.

But to your surprise, he only ever reached out, pulling you from your place next to his tail forward until he could wrap the arm around you, forcing you to sit right next to his head. Unexpectedly, he collected your legs before heaving his head on top of them, resting the side of his face on you. He was heavier than anyone before who used you as a lap pillow, that much was sure, but since you could lean into his arms around you, it wasn't as uncomfortable as you feared.

His hair was shorter than Nerrocan's, short in the front, longer in the back, like a mullet. One side was cut down into a sidecut, and most of it was a dark white instead of Nerrocan's long, black hair. An odd choice for a hairstyle for such a fearsome creature you found, but it fit his daring attitude. He certainly had the aura of a leader, which made more sense now that you knew about his mother. And with him taking the time to talk to you and make deals, never showing fear or hesitations in this kind of situation, he definitely acted that way. You couldn't help but play with the strands, soft and wet from the water, shining black on top.

Scanning his features, an odd thought crossed your mind. Krill was quite handsome.

You had felt the same when you looked at Nerrocan, both embodying beauty standards in different ways. At least until the fish parts. Strangely, you didn't have this feeling for Lyr, though you had to admit you didn't really have the time to look at him either. Combing your fingers through his hair, you felt emboldened by having the apparent trust of this creature, deciding to prod a little more.

"Why did you say that about Lyr?" you whispered softly, not wanting to upset the giant in your lap. Krill's eyes fluttered open, his gaze shifting briefly to you before he let out a deep sigh, the sound echoing through the cave.

"Something happened to him. He… changed. Refused to hunt for the pod one day, despite being one of the best, and never went back to it. He ignores Mom and orders from me or her, and does whatever he wants instead. Sometimes he disappears for days before returning like nothing happened, with a few fresh scars and a grin on his face as if he's going mad. Also, he lost a lot of weight. Maybe he's sick? His fin collapsed, and we could help him if he'd let us, but he's stubborn, that prick."

Letting out another frustrated puff, the gills on his neck flaring, Krill lifted his head before plunging it face down into your lap, creating friction with your wetsuit. If you didn't know better, you'd say he liked the sensation against his skin, but he stopped before long, placing his head sidewards and looking up at you from the corner of his eye.

"Lyr has problems, and Nerrocan has ideas. I know they are their own orcas, but they could come to me, and we'd talk about whatever is going on. I taught them everything, you know? I've been with them since they were wee calves. You'd think that would mean something in this family."

With that, Krill lifted himself upwards, supporting himself on his arms and looking down at you, his brows furrowing as the mood turned serious. "Don't tell them what I said, understood? I shouldn't have said anything, but you're… easy… to talk to. You wouldn't dare to go against me—we both know that."

Slowly, Krill moved backwards, his body sinking back into the pool. "Besides, you owe me."

"Do I?" you questioned, his choice of words ticking you off. One second, it felt like you were building a connection between you two; the next, he pushed you away. Verbally and with physical distance. You could see the relief on his expression as he sank into the water, making you realize that a prolonged stay out of it was probably not comfortable. But then, his eyes snapped open, an authoritarian air emitting from the previously gentle giant in your lap.

"Of course you do. You would have died up there, and you know it. I rescued you, opened my home to you, and made sure you wouldn't be killed by the others in my pod. Our females would not have taken kindly to you had they found you first."

"Someone would have come for me, I know it! I didn't have to rely on you–"

"Oh, please," he snorted, running a wet hand through his hair, moisturizing his scalp and face. "You were lost out there. The sounds of that metal thing had long disappeared from the waters, and with your flimsy… legs, they're called, right? You wouldn't have come far on your own. You do owe me, and the same for the others who kept you a secret from the rest of the pod. You should be a bit more grateful."

"Excuse me–!" you tried to argue when he suddenly snapped his teeth at you, making you flinch away.

"No more," he hissed. "They're coming back, and I don't want to hear a word of what we said. Just be grateful and return our kindness. Amuse us, or I don't see why we should keep you with us."

With almost no delay, the water parted on either side of Krill, revealing the familiar heads of your other two 'saviors'. Lyr perked up at the sight of you, and if he noticed your hesitations, he pretended not to see. You glanced back at Krill, who held your gaze with a commanding aura, and you didn't dare to say anything, even though you hated that you had to bend to Krill. You knew he was right, and the anxious part of your brain tended towards thankfulness for the orcas for saving you. But it still didn't feel right. It was a reminder that you weren't their equal and they had no respect for you. With your differences, you had doubts that they'd see you as anything but a lesser lifeform, given how they felt superior over you. And you knew that they were, even if you wanted to disagree with their views.

"We're not sure, but the older females think you humans like to make yourself pretty, right? The pod's been collecting these, but we don't really have any use for them. Do you want them?"

Lyr's voice caught you off-guard, and you flinched, causing Krill to let out a curt warning growl that didn't go unnoticed by the others. They didn't question their leader. Turning towards Lyr, you scanned over the things he held in his palm: an ivory comb, a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer, and a delicate-looking tube of… lipstick? You didn't even want to think about how long these things had been in the water, all of them looking worn down, with the plastic bottle being the newest addition. You couldn't see yourself using any of these items besides the comb. Even if just to regain some sanity from the familiarity of combing through your hair. But sticking to it were algae, and the material looked crusty, like it had been down here for a while. Not very hygienic.

"That isn't even close to what a human needs," Nerrocan suddenly spoke up. When he got out of the water, he didn't waste time presenting what he brought back, throwing a massive slab of meat in front of your feet. Not meat. Fish. And not just any fish, a gigantic one, the piece as big as your whole body. It lacked a head and fins, making it unrecognizable, but with the meat cut open, you could see the typical fish flesh. You were too scared to ask what it was as you realized you couldn't make it out on your own. Part of you wanted to think it would be edible, but a much more horrific thought crossed your mind.

What if it was another mermaid?

Your stomach betrayed you with a growl, and your mind unwillingly drifted off to freshly made sushi, a luxury you were sure wouldn't be served down here. But could you bring yourself to actually eat whatever they were serving you? You glanced back at the comb and its sharp edges, the crusts on top of it. It might cut your scalp and infect it, too, if you weren't careful. But by the look Krill gave you, you knew you had to make a decision soon. He wanted to see your appreciation for their efforts, no matter how much this made you feel sick to the stomach.

"What do you want?" Krill asked, voicing your racing thoughts in your head. Your eyes bounced from the strange food to the comb and back to Krill, everything screaming inside you to refuse either option and ask to be finally brought home after indulging him. But would that even work? Would they let you go this easily? As you thought about it, you were faced with three apparent choices.

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4st4rion · 1 year ago

Text

could've shouted out loud

ao3 link

at the end of the game i went with karlach and wyll to avernus without realizing that would like cement things and then watched how nervous astarion was about if you're really staying together when my gf finished the game with him. so i split the difference and wrote fix-it fic for my personal fuck-up lmao

just over 2k; spoilers for the end of bg3 of course. rated mature-ish, fully gender neutral tav. it takes a while to come back from avernus and when you find him he is Pissed with you (and very hurt). comforting and some spiciness ensues

It takes longer than you expect to find Astarion again.

You, Karlach, and Wyll have been working on carving out your little corner of Avernus; it's rough work, but Karlach pulls most of the literal weight of setting up shelter for the three of you. It's not much, little more than reinforced tents, but it's better than nothing.

You finally feel like it's safe to go back and look for Astarion, and Wyll opens a portal for you that brings you right to the heart of Baldur's Gate.

It takes three days and nights of asking around before you find him. A helpful bartender at the Blushing Mermaid informs you that someone matching your description of him comes in and sits at a certain table, alone, most nights, and you go there yourself to wait for him.

And sure enough.

Sure enough, come sunset, and given an hour, he walks through the door. He doesn't notice you right away, ordering himself a bottle of wine and taking a glass from the bartender, but when your eyes finally meet, he nearly drops them both.

You smile pathetically at him.

He does not smile back.

He makes his way to the secluded table and you stand to meet him when he does. He sets the bottle and glass on the table and folds his arms, looking you up and down.

"Is this a trick?" he asks, first, looking at you with scrutiny.

Despite his closed-off posture and his attempt at a foul expression for you, he's still just as beautiful as he had been when the sun began to burn him.

You shake your head.

"No, no trick," you promise, and he tenses hearing your voice. Disguises and illusions can mimic many things, but a voice is tough, too unique to recreate for most mages and wizards.

"I'm going insane, then?" he asks sarcastically, and gestures at you to a man passing by. "Excuse me? Do you see the person in front of me?"

The man looks between you and Astarion and you can only give a little wave.

"Yes?" the man answers, and fucks off.

Astarion's frown deepens.

"So, what?" he asks, voice dripping with venom. "It's you, then?"

You swallow nervously and hope that the time apart hasn't put you back to square one.

"It's me," you confirm. "I'm sorry it took so long to find you," you apologize, but he scoffs.

"Must not have been looking very hard," he huffs. "I thought you'd —" he says, voice cracking in vulnerability, and he steels himself all over again. "I thought you'd decided I wasn't worth the trouble once you saw me in the sun," he tries again, and this time, his volume is louder. "I thought you ran off so I couldn't find you and be your burden."

You reach out, but he smacks your hand away.

"Astarion," you breathe, heartbroken. Is this it? Does he... Has he gotten used to the idea of living without you?

Is this over, now?

"Where have you been, then?" he spits, looking away from you in a huff. "You'd better have a damn good answer, or I'll kill you right here myself."

"I'd let you," you breathe, smiling just a bit — threats of harm are better than a cold shoulder. "I've been in Avernus," you say. "With Karlach. And Wyll."

His shoulders relax just slightly hearing Karlach's name.

"She's still alive?" he asks, making glancing eye contact with you to show his sincerity.

You nod.

"She can't leave the hells anymore, not yet, but she's alive," you confirm. "We've been working on a solution, and working on making a home there, for now."

He doesn't say anything, waiting. You swallow nervously.

"We were chased by devils for a tenday when we arrived, otherwise I would have been back for you sooner," you say, and pray to any gods that might listen that he understands. "And then we had to get settled, make sure no one was on our trail," you continue.

Astarion scoffs, but his eyes glimmer with unshed tears.

"You could have written," he mutters, needing to make light of the situation for his own sanity.

"I owe you a postcard," you agree, the barest smile slowly returning to your face.

He sniffles, and curses under his breath.

"I thought...?" he starts, but can't finish, hiccuping back a sob.

"I know," you try to soothe. "I'm so sorry."

This time, when you reach out, he doesn't stop you. You put your hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly, stroking your thumb over the soft fabric he's wearing.

"I love you," you practically whisper. "I've thought of you every moment of every day since we were parted."

He doesn't answer with words — instead, he shoves himself against you, and it takes half a moment to realize he's trying for a hug, reluctant to wrap his arms around you but making the gesture anyway.

You fling your arms around him and squeeze him in tightly. He's cold, so much colder than he ever was when he was feeding from you regularly, and you realize he might not have been drinking from anything but animals again.

"I've missed you so much," you mumble against him, your head ducked against the side of his. "Astarion, I can't believe we're both here," you laugh, relieved, and he laughs too.

"I thought you might have been dead," he admits, and his voice is so, so small. "I thought I'd never see you again."

You hug him tighter.

"I'm here now," you promise.

His arms wrap around you properly now, too, and he almost starts to relax against you.

He's holding back because you're in public, but he shakes with emotion.

"Where have you been staying?" you ask, pulling back just enough to speak with him properly. "Let's get out of here and talk there."

"The Elfsong Tavern," he sniffs. He straightens himself up and quickly wipes the tears off his face, and suddenly the mask is back in place. "Let's, shall we?"

You hold his bottle of wine in one hand and his hand in the other as you walk back to the Elfsong. Neither of you speaks beyond his comment that it's a nice night out and your hum of agreement.

Once you arrive, you head upstairs. His hands shake as he pulls out his room key, and you've never seen him struggle with a lock more than now.

It finally gives way and opens, and then you're finally, finally alone together.

You set the bottle of wine on a side table, briefly turning away, and when you turn back to say So, where do we begin? he's already kissing you.

You've missed this. You've missed him, his insistent, smart, sharp mouth and his hands that pull at your waist to bring you in close and his fingers that dig into your sides like you could disappear if he ever loosened his grip.

He's crying again, tears catching on your lips and turning your kisses salty, but you don't care at all.

"Astarion," you gasp between breaths, just to hear his name on your tongue, and he drags you to his bed.

"I thought I was going to die without you," he growls, pushing you onto the mattress and crawling over you like a predator. "I was so scared, for you and for what I might do if you didn't — if I never saw you again," he admits, voice low and dangerous.

"I'm here," you reassure him, holding onto his arms and sliding your grip to ground him.

"I thought you were gone," he says, angry and scared and afraid and a thousand other things.

"Have you... Are we still...?" you start to ask, and he kisses you again.

"I've been mourning a lost love," he breathes against your lips. "Every face I've seen, I've only looked to see if it could be you, and then I've looked away," he admits. "When I saw a stranger with your stature or your hair, I'd hope, just for a moment, and then it'd be lost."

Your heart flares with love — even thinking you might have left him, abandoned him, died on him, he didn't give up hope that you might return.

"I'm so sorry," you apologize again, kissing him over and over. "I'm here now, I promise. I'd never leave you."

Rather than the coy, self-deprecating never say 'never', darling you might have heard when all this began, he hums with such pleasure it's nearly a moan, just hearing your dedication to him spoken aloud.

"I love you," you remind him, fingers tangling into his hair to keep him close. "I love you, I love you," you breathe, and with every word his breath hitches higher until he's kissing you hard, forcing you silent lest something in him break.

"I want you," he rumbles against you, and your heart soars while your insides dance with butterflies.

"You have me," you say, and you mean it. It doesn't matter if you do nothing but kiss and hold each other tightly until the sun comes up and then goes back down, you're his as much as he's yours and you're eager to remind him of that however you can.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he practically snarls, digging hands under your shirt and pulling roughly at things to loosen your breeches, and you wholeheartedly agree.

"So are you," you growl back.

You manage to get his shirt off over his head at the same time he's struggling with yours, and you sit up so he can do the same with yours.

Wriggling out of your bottoms is a little more difficult when neither of you can stand to be apart, but you both get the waistbands to your knees and that's good enough for you.

His cock is half-hard from excitement and anticipation and you're quick to reach for it, but he stops you by pinning your wrist beside your head.

"I've missed this," he purrs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He grabs for your other wrist and you let him, allowing him to pin you fully and press his body up against yours. "I've missed feeling you struggle against me," he laughs.

You arch up against him just for fun, pressing your leg up between his and rubbing his cock against your hip.

"Is that what you want tonight?" you ask, challenging him by straining against his hands. He's weak — he hasn't fed recently, or fed enough, and you can feel him put his full weight into keeping you down.

"Oh, darling, I want everything," he hums. He kisses you again and ruts his cock against your hip on purpose this time, moaning softly into your mouth. "I want you ruined under me," he breathes. "I want you debauched on top of me. I don't want to leave this room until tomorrow night at the earliest."

You laugh against him.

"Agreed," you hum back.

He lets go of your hands in favor of holding you by your hips, and your arms wrap around his shoulders like it's where they've always belonged.

"I missed you," he sighs. "So much."

"I'm here now," you reassure him again. He nuzzles into your throat and you bare it for him, inviting him, and he shudders.

"I don't suppose I'd be allowed a bite?" he asks, trailing kisses over your pulse.

"I've missed that, too," you sigh. "Go on."

He gives your neck one more tender, open-mouthed kiss before he sinks his teeth into you, a familiar pain that you've dearly missed.

He drinks deeply. You can feel his starvation sating, his body becoming warmer and softer against yours as he melts against you.

Gods, you've missed him. You never want to be separated again.

You feel the past slipping away from you, as though you've never been apart; all that has ever existed is this, this moment, with his mouth pressed to your neck, bite-wound weeping blood onto his tongue and him swallowing as greedily as you cling to him.

He finally pulls away, the perfect amount taken that you feel light-headed but not dizzy, and he feels sated but not full — a balance the two of you perfected over your journey, and one that he's apparently still in tune with.

"Perfect," he breathes into your neck, lapping at the fang marks still slowly oozing blood. "Oh, love," he sighs.

He buries his face in your neck and breathes deep.

"You smell like Avernus," he notes, amused.

"Ugh," you agree.

"You smell like you, though," he says, muffled against your skin. "Gods, I missed that."

You take a long moment to hold each other like that, arms wrapped around each other and clinging and just breathing deeply, taking each other in.

Eventually, his cock twitches impatiently against your skin, and you laugh.

"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his face out of your neck to kiss the corner of your mouth. "I really would just like to be close, if you're not up for anything like that," he says, almost shyly.

You press your hips up against him in answer, and catch the gasp off his lips with your mouth against his.

"I'm up for things," you grin, and he laughs against you.

"Alright," he agrees. "'Things', it is."

You give him one more long, lingering kiss before the two of you go any further, one that you'll remember years from now.

"I'm so happy you're here," he admits, and you smile against his mouth.

You are, too.

#astarion #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #tavstarion

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vampirebloodie · 1 year ago

Text

Nightmares | Mark Hoffman x Reader

Summary: You are a surviving player in an interrogation and Mark helps you with the pressure of the police and with your motherhood

Nightmares about that night still haunted your thoughts when it was time to go to bed. He was right, you made a mistake and paid for it. A mistake that in your eyes was perhaps not so serious, but in John Kramer's mind it was. You were a professional thief, but you acted that way out of pure survival. Your mistake was robbing a woman, who was later revealed to be Jill Tuck, John's ex-wife, you stole a small amount of money, but the scare you gave her made her feel sick and end up in the hospital, you didn't realized that she was pregnant.

But you were reborn, as he said, you learned from your mistake and survived, with several injuries, but you survived. The police wanted you to make a statement saying more about that night, but what could you say? Accuse a dead man? Have you been marked as a future player before your game? You should reveal your crimes and possibly go to prison? Had Jigsaw tried to touch your son?

“Whenever you want, miss Y/N.”

The detective looked at you with a certain judgmental look, you couldn't take the small, cramped room any longer. Ubneeded some air to breathe before you panicked right then and there.

“I don’t know if i feel comfortable telling everything that happened.”

“You know that a statement could help the police a lot, right? We want to know who the apprentices are, you have good information.”

The detective tried, unsuccessfully, to pressure you into saying everything, but you were afraid of what might happen if you told everything, afraid that whoever set it up would come after you because you said it.

“I did some things wrong, maybe that’s why Jigsaw came after me.”

“It’s his modus operandi, Jigsaw never messes with an innocent person.”

You were a little uncomfortable with her judgment, but you just tried to ignore it as much as possible.

“Whoever attacked you was wearing this?”

The woman suddenly threw a pig mask under the table, you felt your throat close and your breathing become more labored and your heart beat faster every second. With tears in your eyes, you left the interrogation room, running through the hallways as you heard the woman's voice calling you.

You felt your back hurt from the impact when you hit the ground, you had just bumped into someone, a little dizzy you felt someone pull you up and lift you up.

"Are you ok?"

He was a tall man, probably also from the police since he was wearing a badge. No matter how much he asked, it wasn't like he cared, he kept a cold look on his face. As if he already knew you.

“Detective Hoffman. This is Y/N, she was giving a statement. Y/N, can we...”

The detective interrupted the woman before she could continue.

“Agent Perez. That's enough. I’ll take it from here.”

The woman gave you one last look before leaving. You couldn't hold back the tears and broke down, the detective suddenly hugged you, comforting you, you let go of the tears that had been trapped for days while he lightly stroked your hair.

“I-I’m sorry...”

Without giving you time to respond, he left, pulling you by the arm through the corridors of the police station. A little rough, perhaps. Maybe he is a bipolar.

“If I were you i wouldn't say much, they say he comes after those who talk too much. By the way, i think there’s someone in my office who will want to see you.”

It sounded like a threat to you, but maybe the trauma was just making you too scared of anything. You went to Hoffman's office, who turned to get coffee from his desk.

“Do you want to drink something, coffee, tea? I think it will help you relax a little.”

You got the tea, since that happened and you didn't sleep well at night, the fear of something happening again was greater, that pig mask.... Amanda Young.... Oh yes, Amanda was with you on the day of Jill's accident, you owed her a certain amount of money, the threats she made to you were making you upset and scared, you had a sick son, you couldn't let him be hurt because of your mistake, so you decided to obey her and steal Jill.

After these events Amanda had disappeared, until you discovered that she had also escaped from one of the traps.

“Where is he?”

“Look at him there.”

Your son came out of the bathroom with a toy dinosaur in hand. You immediately ran towards him and picked him up, hugging him tightly and kissing his face over and over again.

“My baby, I'm glad you're okay, I was so worried.”

You tried not to cry. Maybe you weren't as good a mother as you promised his father before he passed away.

“Mommy, uncle Mark took care of me! He’s the one who gave me this dinosaur, look!”

He smiled showing the green dinosaur to you, you looked at Hoffman who had a slight smile on his face.

“Oh yes, he is so pretty. Thanks for taking care of him, Detective Hoffman, thank you very much. How do you say it, son?”

You released the boy who quickly ran and hugged Hoffman's legs who hugged him a little awkwardly, he didn't seem to have much use with children.

“Thanks uncle Mark!”

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome. It was nothing, Y/N, i couldn’t leave him helpless alone.”

"Thanks again. Well, it's late, i think we're going to home. Goodbye, Hoffman.”

You picked up your son again and turned to walk away when he grabbed your hand.

“You know it's dangerous to walk alone now, don't you? Let me take you home. My work is over.”

Clearly a gentleman, he was right, going to the train station at a time like that wasn't very pleasant. You just agreed and then went to the parking lot together.

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

The walk home was silent, your son had slept on the way, he looked so tired. When you didn't sleep, he didn't sleep either, especially with the nightmares that made you wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

“We’re here. Thanks, Mark.”

You smiled and got out of the car, going to grab your son from the backseat. Hoffman also came out and opened the back door.

“You must be tired, i'll take you inside. Do you mind?"

Okay, after all, taking an unknown man to your house might not be a good idea. But he was from the police and he was armed, if anything happened he could defend you.

“Hmmm, okay, i don’t mind.”

He took the sleeping boy in his arms and you entered the building, where you went up the stairs until you stopped in front of your door, which you soon opened.

“His room is here.”

Hoffman placed the boy on the bed and covered him with the colorful sheet.

“I owe you one.”

“You can pay now, i just need your number.”

He gave you his cell phone and you laughed, putting in your number and saving it in your contacts.

“Debt paid, miss Y/N, sleep well and lock everything up. Was a pleasure to meet you"

"The pleasure is mine..."

He said goodbye and then left the house, closing the door. You locked everything and lay in bed with your son, still silly. Hoffman was an interesting guy, who knows, maybe the two of you would get along?

#imagines #saw #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #saw x reader #costas mandylor

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cosmos-coma · 29 days ago

Text

Winter Mountain Soldier Spy- Part 2

A/N: Look at me not taking a month to post a new chapter! lol. I'm happy to get this one going and get writing again. I put one of my favorite songs into this chapter that I think really suits our beloved Winter Soldier (Take Back - Odie Leigh). Enjoy!

Pairing: Winter soldier!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words: ~2994

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________

“Mmph….”

The Winter Soldier let out a quiet huff as he woke, his eyes blurry with a depth of sleep he had rarely felt before. Slowly he blinked the haze away as he sat up from the floor, the bed’s comforter folded beneath him as a makeshift mattress.

He had tried sleeping in the bed- he really did- but it was far too soft. Like sinking into a powdery snow drift, every second he tried to endure felt like another moment closer to inevitable suffocation. Even the plush blanket you had put aside was more than he was used to, but for once he allowed himself the pleasure.

A silent wince swept across him as he sat up, his hand instantly finding one of the many bullet wounds dappling his back. His fingers came back clean- no blood- a good sign.

As he breathed a sigh of relief, the sounds of clinking and clanging finally registered in his ears. They were soft, yet still distinct as they danced through the closed door, their source- he figured- being the kitchen just below. Instinctively, his shoulders tensed in anticipation, his eyes scanning for a makeshift weapon to face the threat, until-

until a voice came.

Soft and easy, your voice sang a slow unrecognizable tune. It was only then that the prior evening came rushing back to him in a whirlwind; fleeing HYDRA, nearly getting hit by a car, and finally, being brought here- to a house in the middle of nowhere- by a persistently nice stranger who insisted on bandaging him up.

How could he forget?

Quickly making his way to his feet and getting dressed, he silently padded down the creaky wooden stairs. Slow, practiced feet traversed each step, finding the quietest path with minimal effort as his assassin instincts refused to take a back seat.

As his feet hit the bottom of the stairs he turned toward the continuous noise, a slight frown to his expression until he saw… you.

There you stood. The vivid orange of sunrise seemed to maneuver through the mountains and snow-covered trees just to wash over you. Your skin glowed with an alluring warmth that left his fingers twitching with the mere thought of its sensation. You hadn’t noticed him yet- your voice still soft and quiet in an attempt not to wake him. Your mind was far elsewhere, distracted by making breakfast and the melody that hung in the air around you.

He dared not speak as the song slowly faded out and a new one began, a small smile resting on your lips as you sang yet another unfamiliar tune. Though he’d never been one for music as far as he could remember, listening to you sing seemed to quell a storm he didn’t realize had occupied him. For the first time in a long time, he knew what it meant to feel at ease. Tense shoulders relaxed, letting out a soft breath as he deflated back to normal.

Yet, even amongst his newfound calm, every word in your song made his brain itch in a way he wasn't yet familiar with.

“Baby… If I can even call you that. You know I'm struggling to remember- I mean, I’m struggling to forget.

Lately, I’ve been so caught inside my head; I swear I haven’t lived in weeks- been daydreaming instead.”

Your toothy smile lit up the room effortlessly as your head nodded along to the tune. You sang as you cracked another egg into the pan and all he could do was watch and listen.

“I bet money his memory is hazed... It’s not too out of character, we paved the path that way.”

You flipped a pancake in another pan, your voice easy with practiced familiarity.

“I’m missing full night's sleep- I'm missing meals, no drinks. I miss believing words are said, words that are said to me.

And now he’s gone again, stuck on my phone again- Just waitin’ on someone-”

You grinned as you prepared two plates.

“-I’m not waitin’ on no one…”

Your voice bubbled with a determined sort of joy as the song turned and your expression refused to fade.

And while I hope, that my pictures on your shelf when I get home. Don’t wanna see nobody else I wanna hold me accountable for things I did myself….

Don’t wanna see nobody else.

I’m gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back…

Take back…”

As the song ended you turned, and upon seeing him, smiled with a brightness that left him feeling like he got kicked square in the chest. His breath was completely gone, his chest achingly void yet completely overfilled, and all he could do was stare.

“You’re still here…” You said, turning down the radio a little, “I wasn’t sure if you would stay or not, but…”You grinned, “I’m glad you did. I made breakfast just in case,” You added as you handed him a large plate full of pancakes, eggs, and sausages.

Surprise could barely hide on his face as he took the plate from you. A full breakfast…? Were you sure…? As if on cue his stomach rumbled, intent on making its hunger known far and wide.

But you just laughed and waved him on as you headed toward your regular seat at the kitchen table, your own loaded plate in tow, “Come on, let’s eat…” you said, motioning to the jams and syrup you already had out, “and there’s more than enough for seconds, so please don’t hold back.”

Slowly he slid into the seat across from you, his expression reserved as he watched you make the first few moves. That same radiant orange light still fell over you, though much more dappled now as it filtered through the layers of branches. Your actions were simple. You grabbed a jar of jam and spread it over your pancakes, then you reached for the milk, adding it to your coffee; they were all such simple actions. Such simple normal actions….

And it gave him immeasurable comfort.

He copied your movements as he watched you go about your routine.

He tried his first set of pancakes with jam, enjoying its sharp, but sweet flavor, yet to him, the second stack reigned supreme; drizzled perfectly with syrup so that each bite was as sweet as his last. Then he tried the coffee, adding milk and sugar much like you, but recoiled immediately as an overwhelming level of sweetness flooded him. He had added far too much, but, despite your laughter, you were more than happy to get him a fresh cup and let him try again.

With HYDRA he only got what was strictly necessary. Meals were bland and lukewarm, with only the essential nutrients and nothing more. Water was about the only thing they were lenient with, but even that had its limits.

But now hot food sat pleasantly in his belly and spices danced across his nose and tongue. He had had a feast fit for the greatest of kings and one more than worthy enough to celebrate his newfound freedom.

Yet still, the normalcy of it all buzzed in the back of his mind. The breakfast spread out across the table, the music in the background; It was a life that, weeks ago, he could only have imagined; catching nothing more than bits and pieces through the lens of his scope.

The radio mumbled on quietly, the only noise between you besides the scraping of utensils, but he liked it that way. Looking over, he noticed a small smile still lingering in your expression, perhaps a sign that you enjoyed the busy silence as well.

As the two of you finally finished you rose to your feet and gathered the dirty dishes to start washing up.

At first, the Soldier just watched, at a loss for what you were doing, but soon stood to get a closer look, watching silently over your shoulder.

You felt the gaze of those bright blue eyes run over you and you looked back, “Did you want to help?” You asked.

At first, his brow furrowed, but then he nodded, “What can I do?” He took a step closer, the concept of personal space not seeming to exist in his mind as he slid in close beside you.

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him where he stood, his large frame taking up space comfortably. Strong, sleeved arms brushed against yours, as he settled in, taking the drying rag you had offered. “I’ll wash and you can dry, okay?” You smiled, handing him the first dish.

He nodded and did exactly as you instructed, his expression far more serious than necessary for the simple act of drying dishes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you glanced over, his drawn-together brows deep in concentration as he meticulously dried each and every dish before setting it aside.

He frowned, looking over at your barely stifled laughter as he finished another pan “What?”

You shook your head, a grin still plastered on your lips, “Nothing...! Nothing, you just-“ you laughed a touch, looking over at his down turned expression, “You look so serious doing this. Like the pans owe you money or something,” you grinned.

But he didn’t smile back, instead, he looked back down at the pans, not a speck of water left on their shining surfaces, “… I just wanted to be good….” He whispered.

Your heart nearly melted into your feet. His tone was so soft and earnest, he really only wanted to do good by you and it made your heart swell and burst and melt and flutter all at the same time. You shook your head, your expression soft and warm, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. You really are doing a great job,” you held out one last plate in his direction, “Here, last one, okay?”

Warm lightly calloused fingers found yours as he went to grab the plate, sending warm pins and needles rushing through your forearm. With a short gasp, you flinched back- shocked, but not appalled, at the sudden sensation. Carelessly the plate slipped through your fingers, clattering to the floor with a violent crash that sent a wave of broken ceramic running in all directions.

“Ah!” you yelped in surprise, your instinct to move away from the noise, unfortunately, stronger than your know-how to stay put. Sharp pain gripped your foot as you stumbled back, like small teeth digging relentlessly into your flesh.

“Fuck!” You cursed and tried to step back into safety but the pain persisted, “Shit- damn it…!” you cursed again and looked down to the bottom of your foot. Blood began dripping down from your sole, a little piece of broken plate lodged firmly in the small cut.

The Winter Soldier’s eyes widened with concern as he saw red hit the floor. He had been given a dream-like start to the day and he’d already tainted it with blood. His hands reached out to help but hesitated for a moment. These hands have already hurt so many, he didn’t want to hurt you any further, “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, no” you interrupted him with a slight frown, carefully picking out the small shard, “No, I’m sorry… I’m the one who dropped it.” You sighed still holding your foot up as another drop of blood fell, “Fuck… Okay, would you mind- whoa!”

With surprising swiftness and little effort, he scooped you up as if you weren’t every bit of the woman you were. He held you close against his chest, his grip as gentle as he could allow as he took careful steps here and there, avoiding the needle-like shards, until you both arrived in the living room.

He set you down on the coffee table, just as you had done for him the day before, and moved his attention to your wounded foot.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine-“

“Please…” he interrupted with a surprisingly soft yet pressing voice, “Let me help…. Let me be good….” Large blue eyes looked up at you, pleading with you to let him do just this much. His hands hovered over your leg as he waited patiently for your response.

Blinking with surprise you nodded slowly. You couldn’t understand what being good had to do with it all, but with such quiet urgency, it clearly meant a lot to him, “Okay….” You agreed.

It was impossible to ignore the delicate way he touched you, his fingers brushing your ankle tenderly as he looked over the cut on your foot. It left your chest aflutter as warm static radiated out from his touch. It was subtle at first, just a hint of a feeling, like a lover’s warm breath against your skin, but it only grew.

He nodded and with his characteristically intense and careful eyes he scanned over your wound, nodding again before stepping away to find the first aid kit, retracing your steps perfectly from yesterday.

You had to smile to yourself as he came back to you, first aid kit in tow along with another expression of determination that you weren’t sure fit the severity of the situation, but that seemed to suit him all the same.

With a tender touch, he cleaned and wrapped your foot, hiding the wound away under a layer of gauze to let it heal in peace.

“Thank you… really,” you said as you brought your foot up to poke and prod at the new bandage, “and maybe while we’re here, we can change out your bandages? I’m sure they’ve soaked up plenty enough by now”

He nodded, his voice gentle as a small smile crept upon his lips, “Okay….”

With a few ushering waves of your hand you two easily changed places, your bad leg kneeling on the sturdy table as you stood behind him. One after the other, you peeled each bandage off slowly and marveled at the state of their healing.

Each one had already healed up on its edges and was now trying to close. You were amazed, to say the least. Though it wasn’t at an otherworldly rate, each wound looked like it had already healed over a few days time, however even at this rate you were sure it would still take some time.

“So… You really have no name..? Nothing besides ‘The Winter Soldier’….?” You finally asked over his shoulder as you pressed the fresh gauze against his muscled back, “I mean- I’m glad I can refer to you as something other than ‘the tall dark stranger’-” You jested with a small smile, but he didn’t seem to get it, “-but it feels wrong to just call you a soldier and nothing else…”

“Hmm,” he hummed quietly, nodding a bit and pausing as if he was looking for an answer that would please you, “I was soldier number 001….” He said, obviously unknowing of the implications of his words. He gazed into the mirror across from him as you worked, watching your emotions twist as he spoke.

You frowned harshly, locking eyes with him through your reflection, “You were numbered…?” You sighed as you continued, shaking your head, “I’m so sorry….” Your hand smoothed across his skin as you laid the last piece of tape down, your touch lingering subconsciously.

Sparks still danced across his skin beneath your touch, radiating a comforting warmth that he had yet to grow accustomed to, but that he never wanted to be without. He wanted your hands on him always, whether it was wiping blood away from his brow or simply brushing a stray hair from his cheek. He wanted nothing more than to be held in the crackling fire of your palms and hold you in return.

He wondered if you felt the same heat and fire he did, if you too felt the bubbling of energy beneath your skin when you touched- Or if... to you, he was just coldness. Only the cold of smooth metal and nothing more.

“Well, how about…” You continued with a hum, interrupting his swirling thoughts, “Maybe I can call you ‘Winter’?”

Icy blue eyes softened a bit as you asked. You really wanted to give him a name..?

“It’s always been my favorite season,” you smiled as you packed up the remainder of the kit, “something about the cold, muffled silence of the snow and pine trees looming above…” you hummed as you reminisced on the recent days. “The way the moon and stars reflect off the snow at night? making it as bright as a cloudy day?” You grinned now, ducking your head to hide your expression behind his shoulder, “It always made me feel at home….”

Something cracked and shifted unknowingly in the Winter Soldier as you said that; it was small- barely noticeable- but something had already found its way in and it was here to stay.

The corners of his lips turned up, his heart beating with a little more sense of purpose now. “… I would like that…”

“Yeah?” You lifted your head, smiling again over his shoulder at his reflection. “Well then, Winter.” You happily emphasized, your smile never faltering, “You should be all patched up now. Your wounds are looking better than I expected.” You handed his shirt back to him and took one last glance at him through the mirror.

He nodded as he pulled his shirt back over his head, the faintest of smiles still lingering on his lips.

You smiled back and closed up the kit, getting up to put it away, “How does another quiet evening in sound?” You asked, “I have a couple of movies we can watch to pass the time and then, if you’re up to it, maybe you can help me with dinner…?”

He nodded, his faint yet pleasant expression still having yet to fade, “Please…”

___________

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