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tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

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Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

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Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

#cecewritessometimes #oneshot #smut #t'challa fic #t'challa x oc #black!oc #Youtube

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moved-littlepupthoughts · 3 years ago

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Warming Up to You Chapter 2

Aprox: 1,700 Words

CW: SMUT. thor x loki x reader. size difference. soft!thor. dom!loki. puppy!sub!reader. Intoxication(dub-con). Petplay. The word cunt. minor restraint. fem!fingering. overstimulation. a little degradation/namecalling. praise. threeway. orgasm denial. Oral: (fem and male receiving). a little aftercare. being overwhelmed.

AN: well here is chapter two! This is where we get nice and smutty. Let me know your thoughts on a more innocent take on Thor. And well your thoughts in general! If you like my work I am also currently taking requests!

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“Would you help me play with her?” Loki’s voice echoed in your head as you desperately waited for an answer. So many emotions swirling through your head, embarrassment, fear, hesitation, and excitement. The excitement was rushing through your body making your nerves tingle and mingling with the fear making your heart race. The only sounds in the room were the droning of the infomercial and the loud thumping of your heart, then it all seemed to stop as you heard a content hum with a quiet “yes.”

Loki began moving first, sitting up and closing the recliner chair. Then he offered his hand out to you, you reaching out to take it. The three of you file in to Loki’s bedchamber as he gently rubbed his thumb over your hand to calm you, nervousness bubbling your brain. Loki waved his and removing both of your clothing as you laid on the bed, he kept your attention on him by gently tracing his fingers up and down your body.

He leaned in hovering his lips next to your ear, “this is going to be so much fun my little one. Remember you need to play nice with him, I don’t think he has ever played with a submissive before. Will you be on your best behavior for me?” You nodded enthusiastically, the nervousness lessening as your brain began softening. Thor had finished undressing and laid down facing you, you looked over to him. He lifted his hand to touch your chest but hesitated, you gave him a reassuring smile then your eyes fluttered as his large warm hand pressed against your skin.

“She’s.. so small,” He half mumbled to himself half to Loki. He propped himself up on one arm to better explore your soft skin, his large hand engulfing you in a heat that spread under his touch. He treated you so delicately as though he was scared to break you, a gentle giant showing through his usual boisterous self.

“Mmm, yes she is. My lovely little toy,” You were too distracted by Thor’s hand to notice Loki’s trailing his way down your stomach. You flinched slightly as his hand cupped your mound feeling the warmth radiating from you. The moment you flinched Thor pulled his hand back worried that in his intoxicated state he had hurt you and your fragile midguardian body. His worries dissipated as he heard the breathy moan that escaped from your lips.

Loki took Thor’s hand in his and pressed it down to replace his over your cunt with a smile. He got to his knees and moved to straddle your shoulders, his cock looming over your face getting harder by the moment. Your arms were trapped between his legs as he began lazily stroking himself just inches from your face. He looked down at you his blue eyes boring in to yours, his lips twisted in to a wicked smile. Thats when you felt it, a finger slipping between your folds playing in the wetness that had pooled there. He was spreading it around using the slick to glide over your clit making sparks shoot through the little bundle of nerves. He kept moving, never staying in the same place long enough to do anything more than tease you and drive you mad. Coaxing more and more of your juices to trickle out of you and on to his rough fingers.

You couldn’t help but whimper pathetically as you struggled against Loki’s legs, his cock starting to glisten with precum. Your hips rolled desperately trying to rub against Thor’s fingers. Suddenly they were gone. Your eyes welled up in frustration and you whined loudly, feeling the bed shift next to you as Thor moved out of view. Your heart was pounding in your ears when you felt your knees be lifted, separating your legs. Warm breath suddenly hit your aching mound and you didn’t have time to register what was happening before a wet tongue licked a long stripe up your pussy.

“Look at my needy little slut, you love this don’t you?” Loki purred. You could hear the lust in his voice, and the lust in yours as you responded.

“Y…Yes sir”

“Is he playing nicely with my little bitch?” he asked, tilting his head mockingly. You could only nod your head gasping as Thor’s tongue begins circling your clit, as if to further prove himself to you.

“Use your words pup, he can’t understand you.”

“YES! Yes sir!” you cry. Thor hummed against you in response, greedily lapping at you. His hands clutching your thighs tighter as he began sucking on your clit, flicking his tongue over the engorged bud ruthlessly. Your eyes grew wide as pressure built up in your core making you writhe. You desperately tried to speak but your pleading only came out as a whisper to Loki but he understood.

“Not yet.” your heart plummeted in to your stomach as you held your breath. Loki moved off your chest his dick twitching madly dripping precum on you as he kneeled at your side. Thor looked up at you buried between your legs, his beard against your raw skin. With your arms freed you reached down grabbing a fist full of his hair pulling him closer, grinding down on his mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut in concentration using every ounce of will power to not cum, the pressure in your core building further.

“Open your eyes pet, I want him to see your face when he makes you orgasm,” his tone left no space to question his orders, especially with the promise of release. Your eyes met Thor’s below you, his eyes were dark with lust and made you feel like prey trapped with a predator.

“You may come now y/n.” You screamed as your muscles spasmed, lightening shooting through you. The pressure that had built up exploded as you writhed helplessly overwhelmed by the pleasure. Thor’s eyes never left yours drinking in every single moment. The intensity began to ebb away and you gasped for air. Your hands shot up grabbing at the sheets trying to wriggle away from Thor’s mouth still licking at your overstimulated cunt, lapping up every drop leaking out of you. His began to let up when Loki cut him off, “No Thor, keep going. I think my sweet little pup needs more.”

Your eyes were still locked on Thor’s as his speed picked back up. This time he began focusing more on your entrance, using his tongue to explore while his hand reached up to part your lips and rub his finger over your swollen clit. You couldn’t help but close your eyes seeing fireworks behind your eyelids. Your hands quickly reached down with the intention of pushing him away but not quickly enough. Loki climbed back over you locking your arms back at your sides. You opened your mouth to protest only to be filled with his precum covered cock. He pressed it deep in to your soft warm throat muffling your gargled moans. You felt it spasm as he began pulling it back out only to ram it back in deeper than before.

Your mind was fading in and out, overwhelmed by the assault on your body. You started to feel floaty and fuzzy as the pressure began building up again the sensation making you writhe under the weight of Loki’s body. His cock was cutting off your oxygen and making the situation feel unreal. Nothing was real except the tingling heat spreading through your veins, Loki buried in your throat, and the wet tongue lapping at your swollen lips.

Then a new sensation burst in to your mind. A finger began slipping inside of you, painfully slowly it started exploring. Thor’s tongue continued it’s relentless dance on your clit while moving steadily deeper in to your heat.

“Loki! Please please please, I need to come..I can’t!” your words came out an unintelligible garbled mess.

“What was that little one? Do you need to come?” He was still sliding himself in and out of your throat making speaking next to impossible. “Again? Already?” You were almost crying at this point. Jumbled sounds spilled from your lips.

“Come for me.” he snarled.

And you did. While your insides spasmed around Thor’s finger he slipped in another making you feel even fuller, making your orgasm even more intense. Your moans and gasps vibrated around Loki’s cock pushing him over the edge. His hands reached down grabbing a fists full of your hair pulling you closer. Ropes of cum came shooting out of him coating the inside of your throat, you gurgled and sputtered as he kept coming. So much teasing and holding back for so long made his release powerful. He threw his head back, the growl that escaped his lips turning in to a moan. You struggled to swallow all of his seed as he slowly pulled out letting you gasp for air.

Your gasp turned in to another earth shaking scream. Thor had found your g-spot and was curling his fingers against it ripping another mind breaking orgasm from your exhausted body. The overstimulation burned through you, electrifying every cell of your body. You reached an impossibly high peak, tears streaming down your cheeks as Thor gently brought you back down.

You were broken, your body spent and your mind shattered. A whimpering mess drooling from your mouth and leaking on to the bed. Both of the gods laid down next to you panting. Loki petting your head and gently placing kisses on your cheek, murmuring praise. He wiped some of the drool off of your face and you let out a moan of thanks as your heavy eyelids started fluttering closed.

“Aww little one don’t fall asleep just yet, we aren’t quite finished.” You barely registered his words.

“You don’t want to be rude to our guest, he took such good care of you. It is only right to return the favor.” This time you understood what he was saying, Thor’s pulsing cock twitching against thigh confirming his words. You nodded starting to smile.

“That’s right little puppy, I know you are aching for more. Such an obedient little play thing.”

#dom!loki #loki smut #thor x reader x loki #tomhiddelstonsmut #loki x you #y/n smut #bd/sm puppy #puppyplay #mcu smut #thor smut #mcu fic #warming up to you

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thegirlwhomoanedwolf · 4 years ago

Text

On his knees

Klaus x Reader

( reader shows Klaus she can take control too)

Warnings: 18+, Dom reader, edging/denial, choking

That was the last straw (y/n) thought as she drove twenty plus over the speed limit towards her and Klaus’s mansion. Two days ago he had left to New Orleans without warning her and told her to “stay home like a good little pet, don’t want you getting hurt by the big boys,” before abruptly hanging up when she had called to confront him. How dare he insinuate she was weak. She was a powerful witch and just because she rarely used her talents didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of kicking ass. She was fed up with him treating her like she was less than and that ended tonight. As soon as the security system alerted her he was home the wave of anger came back at her full force. He was going to pay.

Klaus heard (y/n) pull into the driveway and could practically feel the anger coming off of her. His cock twitched having spent two days away, already needing to be Inside of her. He’d make her forget about his indiscretion with mind blowing sex like he usually did. As he heard her footsteps reach the front door he smiled ready to claim her as his like usual.

“ Niklaus!,” (y/n)s voice echoed through the large mansion as she angrily yelled for her lover. She stomped towards his art room and wasn’t disappointed when she found him there. Her heart raced as she saw his bare chest and black low hanging jeans covering a very prominent bulge.

“ hello love,” he smirked stepping away from his easel. He began to walk toward her seductively “I’ve missed you my pet.”

His cockiness pissed her off even more. (Y/n) glared at him an idea forming in her mind “ on your knees wolf,” she ordered sternly.

Klaus let out a loud laugh finding humor in her attempt to control him.

(Y/n) spoke louder as she held out her hand toward him magic flowing through her forcing him to the ground “ I said on your knees wolf.”

Klaus couldn’t believe what she had done. In all their years together she had never used her powers against him. He looked up at her a mix of emotions going through his head. He was angry she was controlling him yet extremely turned on by the display of her power. He wanted to get up and ravage her to show (y/n) who was really in charge. At the same time he wondered where she was going with this. His cock ached as he looked up at her speechless waiting for her next move. He was desperate to be inside of her.

She walked over to him and ran her hands through his curly hair, “oh niklaus you must stop treating me like I’m a powerless little girl.” Grabbing his hair she pulled his head back to make him look directly into her eyes “I allow you to take control of me because I like it.”

He was the most powerful being on the planet and she didn’t allow him to do anything he thought. Attempting to get up and overpower her he realized no matter how hard he tried he was frozen. This angered him even more.

“Be a good little pet and stop trying to break free,” she chided using his own words against him.

“ I am no ones pet,” he replied venomously. “ let me free now (y/n) your little game is over.”

(Y/n) stepped backwards removing her boots and socks ignoring him.

“ Free me at once (y/n)!”

“ not until I take what I want,” she replied casually and he watched as she pulled her top over her head freeing her breasts. He tried breaking free again the need to touch her even stronger than before.

“ let me touch touch you,” he said gently trying to gain his freedom by applealing to her sensitive nature.

(Y/n) unzipped her jeans and pulled them off throwing them to the side and smiled seeing how helpless Klaus looked. She felt him try to fight against her magical restraints and knew how badly he wanted her which made all of this even better. “ fine you can touch me.” Klaus went to speed toward her only to realize she hadn’t freed him.

Frustrated in more ways than one he irritatedly huffed “ you said I could touch you.”

Walking over to him she kneeled and pressed her breasts against him feeling him tense up. Her face only an inch away from his she wrapped both hands in his hair and moved her lips to his. They both moaned into the kiss and the friction caused by her pushing her body completely flush to his. He tried to take over the kiss with his tongue and she pulled away completely.

“Please (y/n) I beg of you, I need you.” He couldn’t take it anymore he would grovel if that’s what it took. She stood back up with her core directly in front of his face. His mouth watered smelling her arousal.

“ I needed you when you left without notice,” she slowly slid her hand into her panties as his eyes followed. He watched as her hand moved underneath the lace fabric. “ I had to take care of my self and my hand isn’t nearly as skilled as your mouth,” she sighed.

“ Then let me taste you,” he offered pleading with his eyes.

(Y/n) removed her hand from underneath the fabric and brushed her soaked fingers against his lips. Her insides tightened as she watched him lick his lips a growl leaving them.

“ do you want more? ”

“ I want to devour you,” he replied eyes glowing gold the beast in him coming forth.

He watched as she stepped out of the lace in response and moved herself so close to him he could almost reach her with his mouth. Wrapping a hand in his hair she spoke “ I will let you move your head but you will obey my orders. Understand?.”

“ whatever you want my love.” He replied giving in to her desires.

“ kiss me slowly, show me how sorry you are, show me how much you want me.”

Klaus moved his head forward slowly and gently kissed her most sensitive spot. He kissed her again putting his passion into it and enjoyed the sounds she was already starting to make. He twirled his tongue around her and felt her knees began to buckle as she tried to hold herself up.

“harder.” (y/n) whispered quickly needing even more.

As Klaus applied more pressure he felt her begin to shake and found his body pressed against the floor. (Y/n) crawled onto his face and ground herself down on his mouth. She reached one arm back and rubbed him over his jeans.

“ oh yes (y/n),” he groaned finally being touched where he so desperately needed.

She unzipped his jeans and pulled out his large member stroking it firmly as she continued to grind down onto his face.

“ do you want to be inside of me?”

“ more than anything love,” he pleaded.

(Y/n) climbed off of his face which was now glistening and worked her way down his body kissing as she went. When she reached his lower stomach she sat back and pulled his jeans off leaving him completely naked in front of her. She went back to kissing his lower abdomen and he sighed as she licked near his member. Grabbing him with her small hand she looked into his eyes and wrapped her mouth around his cock humming in approval of how good he felt. He was a fearless warrior yet a romantic and his cock was the same. It was big and hard as steel yet velvety soft in her mouth.

As her need became too strong she pulled away his cock leaving her mouth with a loud ‘pop’. (Y/n) straddled him resting her palms against his strong chest and teased the both of them by rubbing herself up and down him without letting him enter.

Grabbing his cock she placed it at her entrance “ I’m going to fuck you but you aren’t allowed to cum until I say you can.”

Klaus was going to protest but all other thoughts were lost as he felt her tightness slowly sink down on him. They moaned in unison when he was as deep as she could take him. He looked up admiring her as she began to slowly lift herself up and down on his member. He wanted to touch her so badly but watched as her hand reached down and played with her clit.

His eyes rolled as he felt her already start to tighten around him. She picked up her pace bouncing on his cock even more forcefully.

“ oh yes,” she screamed getting closer to her orgasm.

Klaus needed release so badly. “ can I come with you (y/n) ?”

“ no,” she moaned before trembling around him crying out his name. He used all of his willpower to hold back his orgasm even though he wanted nothing more than to cum with her.

(Y/n) stilled breathing heavily after her orgasm resting her body against his and kissed him their tongues entertwining. Finally regaining the energy she sat up and began to move her hips again.

“ tell me wolf do you like it when I take control?” She asked as she slowly bounced on his large cock. Trying to focus his energy on not cumming Klaus didn’t respond.

(Y/n) wrapped her hand around his throat stopping her movements completely, “ I asked do you like when I take control?”

Klaus looked at her knowing he had truly met his match. “ yes.”

With her hand still wrapped around his throat she used it to balance as she leaned down to kiss him as her hips began to move again. Sitting back up she planted her feet on the floor leaning back to give him a fill view of her body. Her breasts bounced as she rode him and he watched as her pussy stretched around him with each thrust.

When her hand went to her clit he spoke, “can I cum with you love?”

“Not yet wolf.” She responded focusing on her pleasure.

He felt her begin to tense around him and didn’t know if he could hold it off this time.

“ I don’t know if I can stop it this time (y/n),” he said strained already trying his hardest to fight it wanting to please her.

“ I want to hear you beg for it,” he smiled hearing her repeat the words he said to her so often.

“ please (y/n) let me cum.” He begged.

She moaned loudly almost there, “ no.”

“ fuck love,” he shut his eyes concentrating on holding off, “ I’m begging you please let me cum, I’ll do anything you want, you’re so tight I can’t take it anymore.”

His words sent (y/n) over the edge and she cried out “ yes, yes, yes, your cock feels so good Klaus, please cum for me.”

Klaus growled loudly his fangs dropping as she milked him with her orgasm. His vision went black and he would have thought someone snapped his neck if it weren’t for the fact he could hear (y/n) moan above him and feel her still pulsing around him.

When his vision returned Klaus looked at (y/n) amazed. He wrapped his arm around her finally free and pulled her to him lifting her from the cold floor and walking them to their large bed upstairs.

He kissed her and laughed “ you made me cum so hard I lost my sight.”

She giggled in response, “ now you see why I let you take control so much.”

He looked at her amused , “ well I might have to let you take control of me more often.”

She looked at him cockily , “ well I think tonight proved I can take control whenever I want. Remember that when you think I can’t handle the big boys.”

He snuggled closer to her, “ I’m sorry for acting that way (y/n).” He pressed his hardening member into her thigh. “ I think there’s a big boy right here you could handle again.”

#vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries smut #the originals #the originals smut #the originals imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader smut #klaus smut #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson

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kiss-inthekitchen · 4 years ago

Text

of the jealous kind

summary: you and Harry are out at the local farmer’s market when a girl starts flirting with you and Harry gets jealous. only thing is, you don’t exactly realize she’s flirting with you. classic wlw vibes, am i right ladies? (please say yes)

my submission for @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines bi-ficathon!

a/n: fun times with Harry calling you “his girl” and being just a bit pathetically jealous (his words!) also i might continue this...in a smut type of fashion... if y’all are interested

word count: 2.2k

“Oh, let’s stop over there! I want to get one of those chocolate chip custard things,” you exclaimed, spotting your favorite bakery stand at the farmer’s market and dragging Harry along by your joined hands.

“A’right, love, m’comin,” he laughed, trying to keep in step with your suddenly quickened pace.

It was a Sunday morning, cloudy but not too cold, and you and Harry were visiting your favorite farmer’s market in town. You tried to come here at least twice a month if your schedules allowed it. Today, it just so happened, you both had the entire day free to spend with each other.

Harry knew you had to look at everything the bakery had to offer before you inevitably bought the same items as usual (a good, crusty country loaf and the same danish you never remembered the name of). There was a produce stand across the way that immediately caught Harry’s eye, a “buy 2 get 1 free” sign atop a display of various berries calling out to him. You noticed his distraction, the two of you speaking at the same time.

“M’gonna-”

“Go on, then.”

“Know me so well, don’t you?” He gave you a soft smile and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading off in pursuit of his beloved fruit.

You took the last few steps over to the booth’s main table, which held a majority of the baked goods as well as this week’s free sample: a garlic rosemary bread, cut into bite size pieces. You picked one up, on instinct taking a sidelong glance at the basket of your favorite pastries by the register, when the woman behind the counter finished ringing up a customer and turned to you.

“Can I help you with anything, hon?”

“Oh, um, I’m just looking,” you answered, looking up at her. She must’ve been new, you thought, not recognizing her from your previous visits. She had dark hair, twisted up into a bun at the back of her head, an oversized t-shirt with a phoenix decal on it. Her name tag informed you that her name was Allie.

“Alright, well, I will say that’s the best flavor we’ve got,” she gestures to the small wedge still held between your fingers.

“Really? That’s quite a bold statement,” you smile back at her, appreciating her friendliness.

“You’re gonna want to trust me on this one,” she said, nodding at you to go ahead.

You took a bite, blushing a bit at the knowledge you were being watched and that she was awaiting your response. “Mhm,” you agreed, around a mouthful of bread. “Okay, you’re right, that’s better.”

“Thought so. I have been told I’ve got very good taste.”

“Well, I’m not surprised.”

She made eye contact with you, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “So, will you be taking a loaf of the garlic rosemary then?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” Why not try something new, you thought. And she was right, it was delicious. You’re sure Harry would like it too, and you could just imagine the playful ribbing he was going to give you when he noticed you’d deviated from your usual order. “Oh, could I also get that-”

“The chocolate chip danish? I saw you eyeing it earlier,” she said, picking one up with a gloved hand and placing it in a small paper bag. “That one’s on the house.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you.” Allie was really on top of it with the customer service.

“Anytime,” she said, “Anything else I can get you?”

“No, that’s all for me! Thanks again.”

She rang up your order, handing you the bag before speaking. “You know, we also come out to the beachside farmer’s market on Wednesday’s, if you’re ever in the area. I’ll write it down for you,” she said, picking up a business card from a stack on the table and turning it over to write on the back.

“Sounds great,” you replied, mostly to be polite. You probably wouldn’t make it out, Wednesdays being a busy day for you with classes.

Just as she was handing it back to you, Harry appeared behind you, fruit in tow.

“Thank you so much, have a good one!” you said cheerily, dropping the card into the bag with your goods. You’d look at it when you got home.

She waved back. “See you soon, hopefully.”

You smiled as you turned around to see Harry already standing there, startling a bit at his unexpected presence. He raised his eyebrows a bit, but didn’t say anything as he put his free arm around your shoulders. The two of you headed back to the main walkway, and he waited until your new friend was out of earshot before he spoke.

“So, yeh just gonna let someone flirt with my girl like that?”

“What?” That was not what you were expecting. “She wasn’t flirting with me, Harry.”

“Oh, please, love. Saw the way she was lookin’ at you. Poor girl. I’m sure you led her on.”

“Excuse me, I did no such thing,” you scoffed. “And she wasn’t even flirting with me, so I couldn’t have.”

He breezed right past your denial, having already made up his mind. You weren’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, you knew that by now. “Told ya before love, you come off very flirtatious. Almost feel bad for her.” He was smirking down at you, the bastard. “Almost.”

“Being a pest,” you grumbled, shoving against his shoulder with yours to throw him off balance.

He stumbled a bit, but recovered quickly. “Oi! ‘S not very nice, is it?”

You giggled in response, loving when he used that playful tone. He tried to keep a serious face on while looking back at you but failed almost immediately, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes that you forgot what you’d both been talking about.

“Anyway,” you sang, reaching out for his free hand and threading your fingers through his. “What did you buy?”

His face lights up at the memory of his purchase. “Got strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries, plus some local clover honey.”

“Such a sweet tooth, hm?”

“S’pose I do,” he said with a slight smirk. “Ready to go home and eat, then?”

“We’ve barely been here half an hour, H. Trying to get me home already?”

“Look too good today, love. Worried if we stick around I’ll have to beat the other vendors off with a stick.”

“I thought we were done with this conversation,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, but allowed him to steer you back toward the car park. You were getting kind of hungry anyway.

You’re sat on your kitchen island at home, Harry placing the bags on the counter next to you.

“Have a nice time, love?” He asks, moving over to you and situating his body between your knees at the edge of the counter.

You drape your arms around his neck, thumb coming up to his cheek to rub back and forth as he leans into your touch. “Always have a good time when I’m with you,” you breathe.

“That’s m’girl,” he speaks in a husky tone, before leaning in to press his lips to yours, slow and lazy at first. That is, until he lifts his hands to your thighs, sliding them around to your back and suddenly tugging you closer to the edge of the island, body flush with his. You gasp into his mouth at the action, and you can feel rather than see his resounding smirk.

“Harry,” you pull back, attempting to admonish him but no one would know from the way your voice shakes.

“Sorry, love. Know what they say, kitchen’s the most romantic room in the house.”

“I don’t know anyone who says that.”

“Y’do now,” he grins lopsidedly at you, and it’s all you can do to remember that the two of you still need to eat.

You grin back at him. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

“But you love me,” he responds, and you can’t argue with that. “A’right, I’ll take everything out and we can have a picnic in the backyard, how’s that sound?”

Your smile nearly knocks him off his feet. “I’ll go get the picnic blanket!”

He removes himself from between your legs and you slide off the counter and head towards the linen closet in the hallway. When you return, Harry’s taken out the loaf of bread and the danish, and is holding the business card in between two fingers.

“What’s this, then?” He asks, holding up the bakery’s business card, logo facing you.

“It’s just their card, the cashier told me they come out to another farmer’s market during the week and she was gonna write it down for me.”

“Oh, she wrote it down, love.” In a second, he elegantly flips the card over in his fingers to show you the back. “But that’s not all she wrote.” Underneath the name of the other market is her name and, unmistakably, a phone number.

“No!” you gasp, not believing he was right and you’d fucking missed it.

“And you bought a new flavor bread?”

“Well, I- Allie said it was the best one…” you trail off, trying to remember the details of your earlier interaction. Maybe Harry was right, you guess you did seem a bit flirtatious.

“Oh, Allie said, did she? That’s all it takes?” He’s kind of joking, kind of not, when it finally sinks in for you that you’ve, yet again, completely failed to notice when another woman was trying to flirt with you.

“Oh, god damn it!” you exclaim, completely in your own head and you didn’t even hear what Harry had said to you. “I do this every time!”

What’s left of Harry’s joking demeanor drops. “Every time? How often does this happen?!”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice again.”

Your friends were gonna have a field day with this one. Three out of the four of you identified as bi or pan, though when you’d all become friends back in high school only one of you had actually been out. Now, you all joked that you had one “token straight” in the friend group.

“Y/N?!”

“I know, H, can you give me just a moment, I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m apparently a raging stereotype,” you reply, laughing at yourself a bit for being so predictable.

“Oh, of course, don't mind me. I’ll just be here. Waiting. Very patiently.” It’s a wonder he doesn’t start tapping his foot, clearly the farthest thing from patient right now.

You snap back to attention, realizing that if you don’t stop Harry he’s just going to keep spiraling. “You do know I’m dating you, right?”

“Do I?”

“Oh, come on. You’re being such a baby about this!”

“Oi! I am not!” He huffs, and you can just picture him as an indignant toddler, standing with his arms folded and a deep frown set on his face.

You hold back a laugh at the image you’ve conjured, closing the distance between the two of you. “Baby, I love you,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.“You know I do.” His jaw. “Why don’t we just throw that out, hm?” You kiss his lips this time, reaching for the card and plucking it from his fingers before tossing it away from you.

“I guess,” he grumbles as you pull away, but you can tell he’s not quite over it.

You rest your chin against his chest, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t believe me, gorgeous? Need me to prove it to you?”

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and you know that you’ve brought him back from his little jealousy spiral at the mere suggestion, so you decide to make him wait for it. Just a little while.

“More than happy to,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over the back of his hand. “Only thing is, you’re gonna have to have this picnic with me first,” you reach behind him for the blanket, “and you have to stop pouting.” You step around him, laughing as you run toward the glass door that leads to the yard.

“M’not pouting,” he lies to the empty kitchen as he grabs the rest of the food and some utensils before following you outside.

His mood is definitely lifted, though, when he comes outside to find you seated on the blanket already, grinning widely at him and holding your arms out for him to crawl into.

Maybe he had been just a tad bit dramatic.

About half the bread is gone now, a bowl of honeyed berries and a plate full of crumbs resting on the cloth-covered grass next to you. Harry’s shifted so he’s laying down with his head resting on your soft thighs, with you carding your fingers through his short curls, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Wait a minute,” you break the comfortable silence, a thought suddenly popping into your mind. “Other people flirt with you all the time! Sometimes right in front of me!”

“And?” he muses, reluctantly sitting up in order to face you.

“And! I never get jealous like that!”

“I know. Rather insulting, if you ask me. You can get possessive, love. I certainly won’t mind it.”

#hsbificathon #i finally got it done and i am very happy to be Participating #thank u #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #to be so lonely #my fics

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kofubisha · 3 years ago

Text

the offer

a stormy evening. an uninvited guest.

[this fic was written for @millenniumzine: a charity zine celebrating the tenth anniversary of noragami's serialization. there are just a few copies left!!!]

When Hiyori walked into the kitchen, she did not expect to find Yato there.

She certainly did not expect to find him making himself comfortable at the table, propping his feet up on its pristine surface and tipping back what looked suspiciously like a can of her father’s preferred after-work beer. She scowled in his direction until he reluctantly removed his feet from the table.

“Daikoku kicked me out,” Yato said, before she could ask.

“He probably had a good reason.”

Hiyori strode across the kitchen, plucked the can out of his grip, and emptied it straight into the sink. “You have a problem.”

Yato smacked his lips unrepentantly. “It’s not my fault your dad has fantastic taste in booze.”

Hiyori cast him a withering look as she sat down. “How many bottles of coins do you think it would take to cover all the alcohol you’ve ‘borrowed’ off various members of my family?”

Yato winced at the prospect. Hiyori, however, had at last noticed what was missing from the room.

“Where’s Yukine?” she asked.

“Daikoku didn’t kick him out.”

Despite his dejected tone, Yato didn’t look particularly sad. He cast his eyes sideways out the window, where the sky was the color of an old bruise.

As if on cue, a single raindrop struck the window. Several more followed, plinking harmlessly against the glass. Seconds later, the sky seemed to swing open, unleashing a cascade of water that hammered the roof like ammunition. Hiyori shuddered at the thought of venturing outside.

Yato seemed to have the same idea, because when he looked back at her his eyes were as full of innocence as a sacrificial lamb’s.

“You wouldn’t make me walk home in this, would you, Hiyori?” he pleaded.

Hiyori just shivered and scrubbed her shoulders. The temperature in the kitchen had already dropped by several degrees. A warm drink would soon fix that. She rose from the table and went to the cupboards, rummaging for a cup.

“Hiyoriiii…” Yato whined.

Hiyori sighed and brought out a second mug. After all, her mother had raised her to be courteous.

As she moved around the kitchen pouring water and lighting the stove under the kettle, the ferocity of the rain outside seemed to fade, if only in her own ears. She could feel Yato watching her. His attention, though obvious, wasn’t unpleasant. At times, Hiyori got the sense that he was a little fascinated by this sort of domestic ritual. She wondered how many others had ever offered him such simple favors.

From the corner of her eye, Hiyori saw the whipping branches of trees outside the window. The wind had risen to a boisterous gale, battering the windows with sheets of water.

“I hope everyone is safe inside,” she murmured, with a thought for her traveling parents and for Masaomi, who was probably holed up in one of his friend’s leaky apartments. Carrying the two mugs over to the table, she again sat down across from Yato.

“Can you believe this, Hiyori?” he held his phone up at her, the screen bright in her face. She blinked.

“…What?”

“No texts! Not even one angry voicemail! Does he care if I get struck by freak lightning and die?!”

Hiyori’s brain slowly caught up with Yato’s chaotic train of thought.

“I’m sure Yukine knows you’re here,” she said comfortingly, unable to suppress a smile at his indignation.

The volume of the wind outside rose sharply. It howled around the eaves of the house like a starving animal. The mournful noise shuddered down Hiyori’s spine, and she curled her shoulders inward around her cup.

“It sounds horrible out there,” she murmured.

At the very moment Yato opened his mouth to respond, the kitchen plunged into darkness.

Before Hiyori could do more than gasp, there was the soft click of a cigarette lighter. Yato’s face appeared, bathed in flickering yellow.

“Well, isn’t this creepy?” he asked. His voice was full of barely repressed mischief. “It’s okay Hiyori, you can cling to me if you’re scared.”

Hiyori’s cheeks grew warm. She pushed herself out of the chair with a clatter and marched across the kitchen.

“This happens all the time,” she shot back at him. “The house is old. We have candles in every room.”

“Then what’s taking you so long?” Yato asked. She could hear the smirk in his voice and Hiyori grit her teeth, fumbling in the kitchen drawers for the expected candles.

When she returned, pointedly not making eye contact with Yato, she set her findings on the table: a single, well-used tea light that, based on the remaining wax, promised fifteen minutes of illumination at most.

“Not very disaster-prepared, are you?” Yato asked. A question Hiyori did not dignify with a response.

Yato lit the candle, then snuffed the cigarette lighter and replaced it in his pocket. The anemic glow did very little to dispel the shadows in the room, but it was a more steady source than the lighter’s open flame.

“This is almost as bad as one of Kofuku’s,” Hiyori observed, staring out the window into the roaring storm. The old house was sturdy enough, but that didn’t stop its ancient bones from shivering and groaning with each savage gust.

Yato eyed Hiyori’s white-knuckled grip on the mug. He leaned over the table toward her, and she felt her cheeks heating up again under the keenness of his gaze.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said. Hiyori blinked.

“Your offer?”

An odd expression flashed across Yato’s face. It was almost sheepish, but gone before Hiyori could make anything more of it.

“The offer for you to cling to m—”

“Oh, that one,” she said. “No thanks.”

Yato clapped a hand to his chest in exaggerated fashion, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated exhale. Hiyori hoped the darkness of the room concealed her raging blush.

“One day, Hiyori,” he said, stirring his tea. “You’re going to beg for my godly favor, and I won’t be there to help you.”

She almost laughed in his face.

“Yato. I have.”

The corner of his mouth tugged downward.

“I would definitely remember that,” he said, and Hiyori narrowed her eyes.

“You don’t remember when you took my money, evaded my calls, and used my vulnerabilities to your own advantage?”

Yato winced. “‘Used’ is a harsh word.”

“Would ‘exploited’ be more accurate?”

He fell silent at that, which bothered her. Hiyori wasn’t used to getting the last word.

“I guess it would,” he said. His voice was light, and if Hiyori could have seen his expression she might have believed it a joke. But his eyes were in shadow, and the shape of his mouth was flat and humorless.

“What I meant…”

Her words trailed off. Hiyori desperately wished for Yukine to be there. She didn’t know why the mood had altered, nor why the air seemed to thicken in her mouth when she tried to speak.

“I just meant that…you’ve already helped me.”

Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper at the end, and her scalp tingled with shame. Why was this such an awkward admission? She’d told him as much before. Hiyori’s ears grew impossibly hotter as she remembered how effortlessly—how proudly she’d claimed him as her god of fortune.

This was different.

The struggling flame from the tea light had been barely enough to illuminate their faces, and as the seconds ticked by, its glow was weakening.

She dared to hope Yato hadn’t heard her.

“Hiyori.”

Her head snapped up. Yato’s voice was startlingly close. He leaned toward her again, both elbows resting on the table. Hiyori made the mistake of meeting his eyes. She wondered, sometimes, how anyone could think blue eyes cold.

“You’re kind,” he said, simply.

Hiyori made an embarrassing sound in the back of her throat. To escape Yato’s eyes, she hid her steaming face in her mug and took an ambitious gulp of what turned out to be very cold, bitter tea.

Spluttering, she set her cup back on the table and reached for Yato’s, horrified when she saw he had already consumed its entire contents.

“Why did you drink the whole thing?!” she wailed, brandishing the empty cup in Yato’s face.

“I thought it was fine,” he said.

Hiyori glared at him, inexplicably furious. She wasn’t sure toward whom that anger was directed, but it felt more substantial than a dispute over cold tea.

At that moment, the candle went out.

Yato cursed—colorfully but quietly—and she heard the lighter flick again. The candle flared once, then went out.

Hiyori blinked rapidly, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the absolute darkness. Outside, the tempest was amassing its forces. There was no lightning in this storm: only rain, wind, and utter dark.

It was the kind of storm that spawned monsters, and Hiyori, despite herself, was afraid of it.

“I’m sure we have a flashlight,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Before Hiyori could even lurch out of her chair, a set of fingers closed around her wrist. She froze. Surely, surely, Yato could feel the wild hammering of her blood beneath his thumb.

“Is this all right?” he asked.

Hiyori didn’t immediately respond. She was stunned at how unexpectedly warm his hand felt against hers. Interpreting her silence as a denial, Yato immediately withdrew, and Hiyori’s stomach plunged horribly at the loss of contact.

“No, w—”

She barely had to speak before his hand returned, closing gently around her wrist. She allowed him to move her fingers so that they interlocked with his. The tension began to drain out of her body, and Hiyori dared not question why.

“This doesn’t count,” she heard herself blurt.

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Yato was looking at her, confused. Gathering herself as best she could, Hiyori said:

“This doesn’t count towards your offer.”

Yato didn’t respond immediately, but his fingers tightened around hers. A conversation like this really would be impossible if she could see him.

“Of course it doesn’t,” he replied. “That’s why I’m not charging.”

The fondness in Yato’s voice set her ears aflame, and she lost any ready response she might have had. She was almost glad that she couldn’t see his expression

The pressure of his hand around hers was gentle. He cradled it like it was an exquisite thing. Tingling warmth seemed to spread from her chest through her whole body: not the heat of embarrassment, but something tender and protective. Something that made moisture spring to her eyes, and urged her to curl her fingers tighter around Yato’s own.

A little longer, Hiyori thought. She held Yato’s hand tight in hers, and she prayed to the storm.

Just a little bit longer like this.

#scarfwrites #noragami #yatori #noragami fanfiction #yatori fanfiction #millennium zine

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tsumwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Second Best (Kuroo x Reader)

Kuroo angst where I lowkey made him a dick... sorry Kuroo stans

Objects were being miscellaneously thrown in the air as chairs were being knocked down while you and Kuroo spit out spiteful words that neither of you really meant.

You were fuming but really all you wanted to do was cry.

You were tired from these fights where Kuroo would just try to get a rise out of you and vice versa.

Typically, they were over the dumbest things like you forgetting to put your used mug in the sink or Kuroo forgetting to put the toilet seat down. They were usually dumb things like this, but today was different.

A few hours before the fight, you had come home excited to tell Kuroo about your big promotion that you had been offered.

You were currently a recent graduate and intern at a fashion company in Tokyo, but if you accepted, you would be a formal employee of the Paris branch.

Of course you were going to decline, what with the recent engagement and the upcoming wedding, but you wanted to tell him anyway because it was a big deal to you. But after today, you weren’t sure if Kuroo was worth staying for.

You had made Kuroo’s favorite meal to share the exciting news, but he had come home late without a phone call or even a text, and when you brought it up he exploded on you.

��Do I need to tell you everything? God, you’re my fiance not my mom.’

‘Well if you just told me the fucking truth then I wouldn’t need to ask every time!’

The saddest part was, he didn’t need to tell you where he was or who he was with because you already knew the answer to that: hanging out with his ex, Kozume Kenma.

Kenma always seemed to be at the center of all of your fights. No matter how it started, the end was Kenma because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t be Kenma.

Today was no different.

“I was with Kenma because I was trying to get away from you!”

As soon as Kuroo spit out those words, the air in the room thickened and the temperature dropped, along with your heart.

Each word was like a dagger to your heart and you fell into the couch in defeat.

At first, Kuroo felt a sick satisfaction because he felt like he had won the argument. But when he saw you hugging your knees tightly while looking away from him, he knew that he had taken it too far.

You weren’t even crying, you were just completely dejected and so was Kuroo.

He plopped down on the other side of the couch and the only sound in the room was the creak of the couch as his weight fell onto it.

The silence surrounding the two of you was suffocating but neither of you wanted to say the inevitable… This had to end, but no one wanted to end it.

But you were stronger than Kuroo. You knew this.

Kuroo Tetsuro was still in love with his ex-boyfriend and refused to admit it while you were already coming to terms with the fact that you were always second place. At first, you thought that the engagement would change him but eventually you realized that it was just you foolishly in love.

So you broke the news to him, the ‘exciting’ news that had started this entire ordeal.

Chin on your knees, you quietly muttered, “I was offered a promotion.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he turned to you. This is what you wanted to talk about. This was why you were so excited when he came home… And then he blew up on you.

He wanted to congratulate you. To hold you in his arms as he told you what a wonderful job you were doing but seeing you look so broken, because of what he said filled him with so much guilt that he couldn’t move.

So he just waited for you to continue and hoped that you would forgive him.

Meanwhile, you were looking down at the ground as you were contemplating your next words.

A tearful breath escaped your lips as you continued.

“It’s a textile designing position in Paris and I’m taking it.”

You looked at the man to your left and observed his shocked expression.

“I’m tired of this, Tetsuro- tired of us… Of you acting like you’re in love with me when we both know it was never me.”

Kuroo reached out to pull you into his embrace, but you stood up and turned your back towards him, facing the window looking out into the city.

“(y/n)... babe, I can change. I’m sorry.”

You laughed bitterly as you felt the salty tears falling down your face. Shaking your head, you wore a sad smile on your face before you turned to the now crying man on the couch.

Kuroo was hunched over with his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His body was shaking as he sobbed silently.

You walked over to him and knelt on the ground next to him.

When he felt your body next to his, he looked up with tears in his eyes.

“I swear, it’s just a stage, baby. Everyone falls out of love but we’ll be okay. We’ll be oka-”

You shushed him gently and kissed the tears on his cheeks for the last time.

“Tetsuro, you can’t fall out of love if you were never in love.”

Kuroo furrowed his brows in confusion to which you laughed softly. God, he was in so much denial.

You brought a hand to move the hair that was covering his eyes and cupped his cheek.

“I have to go.”

He shook his head furiously as he watched you take off your ring.

“No, please! Say the word and I’ll even cut off Kenma.”

A tired sigh escaped you as you set the ring down on the coffee table. There was no truth in his words. This was just him saying anything and everything to get you to stay but you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Please don’t hurt me more than you already have.”

Kuroo blinked away his tears as he watched you walk towards your shared bedroom.

He was crying and his mouth was still spewing out apologies but some part of him felt the slightest bit of relief.

‘I’m a monster,’ he thought to himself as he chased after you.

-- several years later

It was a Saturday, and you were looking out the huge window enjoying the crisp morning air on your face.

With Paris fashion week behind you, work was slowing down, and you felt like you could finally breathe a little. Weekends finally felt like weekends and you could do things like staring out your window for no reason. Now you could finally go to the cafe you were meaning to check out, try the new rooftop bar, and visit the wineries.

As you were going down the mental list of things you wanted to do, you heard your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number with a Japanese area code.

‘Probably work,’ you thought.

Since headquarters were in Japan, it was common to get random phone calls from Tokyo. It was a little odd that they were calling you on a Saturday, but you just assumed there was a client emergency so you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this (l/n) (f/n)?”

Your heart stopped and you felt your breath hitch. How had he gotten your number? You’d gotten a new European number and only gave it to a select few in Japan.

“Kuroo-kun, how’d you get my number?”

This time, it was Kuroo’s turn to react.

It had been years since the breakup, but for some reason it felt foreign, almost painful, hearing you call him by his surname. But after what he put you through, who the fuck was he to dictate what you should call him now?

He was just glad that your voice held no venom towards him.

Maybe Kenma was right- maybe you didn’t hate him as much as he hated himself for hurting you.

“Hi (y/n), it’s been a while, huh? I got your number from Hitomi-chan, had to beg her for it though.”

You let out a soft laugh that contrasted the pang in your chest as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You had moved on- built an entirely new life without him, but hearing him say your name made you feel weak. But you had come too far to come crashing down again.

“Yeah… A few years, right? How’ve you been?”

Kuroo laughed softly, and you could imagine what he looked like. Eyes squinting the tiniest bit and his mouth turned up into the grin that you loved so much.

“I’ve been great… Getting married actually.”

You felt your jaw clench as you searched your brain for appropriate responses.

It took a few seconds but you eventually responded.

“Congratulations, that’s really exciting!”

You flinched at how fake your own enthusiasm sounded but hoped Kuroo wouldn’t pick up.

“It is… but I wanted to be the first one to tell you. It only felt right to tell you before you found out through instagram or something.”

A small smile appeared on your face, even after all these years he was still thinking about you.

“That’s thoughtful of you, Kuroo-kun. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

There was a brief silence before Kuroo called your name again.

“Hey (y/n)?”

“Yes?”

You could hear Kuroo swallow loudly and fumble with some kind of fabric, which you assumed was him loosening his tie.

“I’m really sorry for how things ended. You deserved better and I wish I could’ve been a better man for you.”

You paused and wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks before responding.

“What do you want me to say, Tetsuro?”

Your voice was shaky but so was his. Kuroo was crying too.

“Nothing… I just want you to know that I loved you. As hard as that must be to believe, I did love you and I don’t regret one moment with you.”

You covered your mouth and moved the phone away from your face as you tried to control your breathing through the crying. When you could breath somewhat normally, you brought the phone back to your ear.

“I have to go, Kuroo-kun.”

He cleared his throat, “Of course, you must be really busy.”

Your heart was racing as you tried to decide whether or not to tell him that you were still in love with him. That there wasn’t a day that passed by where you didn’t wish you could run back into his arms. That you regretted leaving him and not just settling being his second best.

“Hey Tetsuro?”

“Hm?”

Should you tell him?

No, you would never tell him.

“Congratulations again.”

This was your secret to have and to hold.

#Haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #Haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo angst #kurooken #kuroo x kenma

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yukidragon · 3 years ago

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Our Life Snippet - Anchor

It’s time for another slice of the first draft of my fan novelization for Our Life: Beginnings and Always! For once, this is a direct continuation of a piece I’ve served up before. Last week we got the hurt portion of hurt/comfort in the moment Family with the snippet I called Adrift. Now it’s time for the comfort half with Cove and Jamie.

As always, thank you for enjoying my writing. Special thanks in particular for the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch for being so sweet and encouraging. You’re all wonderful and you bring me such happiness!

...

It was impossible for Jamie to tell how long she remained staring off into the far horizon, fighting to keep her head above water in the chaotic storm of thoughts she drowned in. She sat with her knees tucked against her chest, her cheek resting across her arms folded on top of them. The wind delicately blew her blue hair to the side, just strong enough to tease her bangs and end of her long braid.

A voice cut through the static screeching inside of her head. Someone was shouting, getting closer. Not even the presence of another person was enough to make Jamie move until she noticed that they were calling her name.

Upon that realization, she recognized the voice as well. She could never, ever mistake his voice for anyone else’s.

Jamie raised her head and turned quickly towards the shouts, her eyes wide. She quickly spotted a silhouette in the darkness where the sand gave way to grass. Even in the dim light, she instantly identified the figure.

Cove.

There was a moment where Cove stood breathless, his eyes fixed on Jamie sitting curled up where the sand met the waves, with the moonlight casting a shadow across her face when she turned towards him. The moment lasted only long enough for him to be sure it was her before he ran to her side.

Confusion and worry drew Jamie to her feet, clearer than anything else in her chaotic mind, and she fully turned to face Cove as he approached. “Cove,” she said, his name shaped with too many emotions to process. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The question took Cove aback. “No!” He cringed a little at the intensity of his response and tried to calm his racing heart. “Not to me anyway. I wanted to know what happened to you.”

Jamie stared at Cove in confusion, her face blank. Her reaction only made him even more concerned, his grimace creasing into a deep frown.

“Mom told me you stopped by earlier,” he explained, his voice still a little frantic and breathless from his panicked search. “I went to your house to say hi, but your parents said you were gone, that you needed to get away.”

Jamie said nothing. She heard him clearly, yet failed to understand what about that alarmed him so much. She was fine.

It was her family who weren’t okay.

Cove only felt his worries grow the longer Jamie failed to respond or even show any emotion. Normally, she was so expressive that it was easy for him to tell how she was feeling, but now her face was a tense, blank mask that offered him nothing.

Nothing about all this was normal, and it was starting to get to Cove.

“I mean…,” he continued, pressing on despite the oppressive stillness of his best friend. “I had to think something was going on after something like that, so I came to find you.” His aquamarine eyes looked into hers - those normally captivating night blue eyes were so uncharacteristically dim, devoid of their usual sparkle and joy whenever they were together.

The look in Jamie’s eyes terrified Cove.

The silence stretched on, a heavy weight oppressing both of them. Finally, Jamie took a breath and wet her lips, tasting the salt in the air as she struggled to answer Cove’s concern, to reassure him and explain what had happened without making things worse for him.

“I…”

Even forcing out one word alone was a struggle for Jamie, but Cove was patient, willing to wait for her to speak. Her gaze dropped to the sand, unable to bear the worry in his eyes anymore as she fought for words. It was too loud inside her head, the static scraping away words she wanted to say with intrusive ones she never wanted to admit to anyone. There had been so much she had wanted to tell him earlier, but now there was too much.

Finally, Jamie managed to try again. “There’s a lot…” Her voice petered off, the words dissolving from her mind before more than a handful could leave her tight throat. She skewed her eyes shut. “Elizabeth… my parents…!”

She choked on the words, a hand moving up to cover her mouth as she tasted bile. The action urged Cove to take a step closer to her.

“Is everything okay?” Cove asked reflexively, even though the answer was obvious, as he placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

The touch was warm, solid. It was a stark contrast to how disconnected Jamie felt from the rest of the world. She closed her eyes and focused on Cove’s hand, his closeness, his concern.

Cove cared.

Cove always cared about her, what she thought, and what she felt. He never judged her, never pushed her. Ever since they met, he was always there, so kind and mindful of her. He was her anchor grounding her when the waters turned turbulent and threatened to wash her away.

Jamie placed her hand on top of Cove’s, drawing strength from him as she always did.

“Thank you,” she eventually managed to say, her shaky voice barely more than a whisper as she lowered her head. “Thank you for coming…” She lifted her gaze, but could only reach as far as his worried frown; she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cove’s brow furrowed even more as he only grew increasingly concerned, not as much by the words themselves but by the way Jamie said them. She sounded so… broken.

Despite his mounting fears, he held himself back from voicing his worries further, wanting to give her the chance to continue on her own.

Jamie closed her eyes and took another breath, giving the hand on her shoulder a small squeeze. It was hard for her to speak, to know where to begin, but the fact that Cove was with her now made things a little easier somehow. With his help, she would figure out what to do about Elizabeth, her moms, and…

And just like that the feelings she had been holding back surged forth like a tsunami and overtook her.

“My parents are dead!”

Cove froze at the weakly delivered outburst as it sent a shock through him. He couldn’t move, except for his mouth which fell open, but he was unable to do anything further as he stared at Jamie.

That wasn’t what Jamie had been intending to say, not at all.

For a moment, Jamie stuttered, scrambling to recover mentally, knowing she had to clear up the confusion she had just caused. “M-my biological ones… from before my moms… before they adopted me.” The explanation started as a trickle that only grew stronger, more emotional with each word, like water pouring from a crack in a dam that was only growing wider as more spilled free. “They died when I was a baby. Moms didn’t say how. Maybe they don’t know. But there wasn’t any other family I could live with. So that… that’s why I… why I g-got a-ado-adopte-”

Cove had heard more than enough. He closed the distance between them, pulling Jamie into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. The comforting words delivered with such gentleness pierced right through her.

The warmth was familiar and comforting. It felt so right to Jamie, yet she stood frozen as Cove enveloped her securely in his arms. They were so close that his voice rumbled through her pleasantly when he spoke, creating small tremors that ran through her. In another situation this would be heaven. But this wasn’t right. She wasn’t the one who needed to be comforted right now. It was her sister and moms who needed it far more than she did.

“You… you don’t ha-have to do this,” she said, barely managing to force the words out, her voice cracking at the edges.

Cove rested his head against Jamie’s, his cheek brushing against hers. He refused to let her go. “Yes I do.”

He sounded so sure, yet for some reason that fact made Jamie begin to shake. Finally she could move, her trembling hands reaching up - to draw him closer or push him away was unclear - but her fingers hooked into his shirt at his sides near his back, the hold on the fabric so tight her already pale knuckles turned white.

“I… I-I’m o-oka…”

The lie was too big for Jamie to finish forcing it from her throat. She choked on it, her voice catching and quaking until it turned into a wail of anguish that racked her body. All of her denials and barriers broke then, and she crushed her body into Cove’s until there wasn’t even room for air between them. The tears she didn’t know that she had been fighting all this time gushed forth without restraint, spilling onto her best friend’s skin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

Cove held Jamie even tighter, as close as he could without hurting her, his eyes growing watery as well. Although they were of equal height, she felt so small in his arms just then. Her body shook almost violently against him from the force of her sobs, the sounds rending his heart in two.

Cove said nothing while Jamie cried, merely listening to the wails she made that almost formed words at times. It was painful to hear just how much she was hurting, but he didn’t falter. He would do nothing else but hold her until she was done bleeding out all of the poison tainting her heart.

It took time for the night to grow still again, save for the constant rhythm of the waves and the breathing of the two teens as they held each other on the shore. Eventually, however, the flood of tears slowed to a trickle, and then finally stopped when Jamie had no more left to shed. Her energy bled away along with much of the tension in her body, leaving her standing more by virtue of Cove holding her up than the strength of her own legs, her once firm grip limp, but still hanging on desperately.

When Cove noticed, he took great care to guide Jamie back down onto the sand. The position they sat in was close, with Jamie practically in Cove’s lap. Under normal circumstances, such intimate closeness would have left him a blushing mess fighting the urge to bolt like a frightened deer, but he didn’t even think about it now. The only thing he focused on was keeping her close to him.

Cove sat for a little while longer with Jamie cradled in his arms, until he was sure that she might be ready to talk. He didn’t release his grip on her, but shifted just a little, trying to catch a glimpse of her face to better see whatever expression she was wearing now without widening the distance between them.

Jamie looked exhausted, worn, but not as worryingly tense as before.

When Cove spoke again, it was delicate and deliberate. “Can you explain everything to me?”

For a moment, Jamie just breathed deep, the sound rough and hitching occasionally. Finally, she managed the strength to lift her head and face Cove. Her red-rimmed dark blue eyes met his, but only for a second before she had to look away. She nodded slowly before taking in a heavy breath and letting it out slow and shaky.

The actual event hadn’t actually been that long, but the telling took Jamie a while in stops and starts. Cove listened attentively, only nodding where appropriate or taking in a sharp inhale when words almost escaped him. He only spoke again when he was sure she was finished speaking, at least for now.

“Jamie,” Cove said, his voice trembling with heartache for his closest friend. He faltered, wanting so badly to say whatever it took to somehow make her feel better, but words alone felt inadequate. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your parents. So, so sorry…”

Jamie being adopted was something Cove learned early on after meeting her, but its importance never truly sank in for him. He never felt comfortable about prying into it, relating the loss of her original parents to losing his mom for a while due to the divorce, and the distance that had grown between them since.

Although things had gotten better for him, it would never get better between Jamie and her birth parents.

Cove tried to find the words to say more, but nothing came. He could only take in deep, shaky breaths as he struggled for something to tell her that might help heal her broken heart. It was frustrating. He hated feeling so helpless, especially when his best friend needed him.

Jamie barely acknowledged Cove beyond a slight nod of her head as she looked off at some point in the distance, not really seeing anything. She found more words to say before he could. “I had no idea it was so important to Elizabeth,” she said, her voice rough from all her crying. “She was so upset and angry even before our moms told her about her biological parents… and after they did she just…” She had to pause for a moment to take in a shaky breath before letting out slowly. “I mean… I thought about mine too, sometimes, but it’s not because I wanted to know who they were.”

Jamie made a vague motion with her hand before limply dropping it back onto Cove’s arm. “I sorta just figured either they wanted me or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, they weren’t worth thinking about. If they did…”

Closing her eyes, Jamie paused to take a deep shuddering breath before shaking her head. “I didn’t want to know if they did,” she confessed in a whisper, guilt dripping from every word. “I didn’t want to ask, but when Elizabeth did… when my moms asked me… how could I not?” Her eyes went to Cove, her expression almost desperate and only relaxing a little when she saw him nod in understanding.

“But I guess… they did want me,” Jamie said haltingly, the words coming out weak and fragile as she closed her eyes. “There were people who… l-loved me. And I can’t love them back. Ever. I can never love them like they probably loved me because they died, and I can’t remember anything about them. They’re strangers. They’ll always be strangers to me, even if they did have me. I’ll never get to know them and love them like my moms or Elizabeth or Lee and… and… and I just wish they didn’t and that they just threw me away and abandoned me because they didn’t want me like I always told myself they did so I wouldn’t feel guilty about not caring about them and being happy without them! Isn’t that awful?!”

It was hard for Cove to keep silent. He bit into the inside of his cheek to fight the urge to speak before Jamie was done unburdening herself. He only moved to gently pry her fingers from her braid as she started yanking on it at some point during her rant. It was only when she stopped, panting as though she had just been running, her dark blue eyes wild and desperate and looking right through him, that he spoke again.

“Jamie,” Cove said, drawing her attention back to him and away from that dark pit inside herself. His voice cracked as he struggled to keep himself together; he needed to be strong, for Jamie’s sake. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You know that, right?”

The emotions playing across Jamie’s face were too complex for Cove to understand, but he suspected that they were also too much for her to truly understand them either.

Cove took great care in choosing his words, which made them come out slower than usual, almost stilted. “I think you can be as sad as you want, for as long as you need. Or you can feel about it whenever you want, too. It’s okay for you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

It was a struggle for him, as his words felt woefully inadequate in the face of such dark thoughts as the ones Jamie laid bare before him. He was completely out of his depth here. Even comparing her situation with her birth parents to his own parents didn’t help him really relate; it just made him shudder at the idea of how he would react if one or both of them died.

Adding on the complicated feelings of never knowing them or loving them like he did was just…

Cove had to take a moment to breathe, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair and let his gaze drift to the ocean. The sight of it was soothing, which he desperately needed right now.

With another sigh, Cove shifted his gaze back to Jamie, meeting her intense stare with a look of sympathy and reassurance. He at least took solace in the fact that she was looking at him now and not lost inside her own head again. Even if he couldn’t really relate to what she was going through, that didn’t stop him from empathizing with the obvious guilt she held towards her own complicated feelings, or understanding how easy it was for dark thoughts to spiral out of control.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…,” Cove continued at last. “Whatever you feel about it is how you feel about it, and that’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to be different.” He managed a faint smile, as he recalled what Jamie told him at the beginning of summer when he confided in her about his complicated feelings about his mother coming to stay. “There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling about all this. It doesn’t make you a bad person. No one would ever think badly about you for feeling this way about something like this.”

He sounded so sure, Jamie couldn’t help but believe him. It was strange how Cove had the power to do that, to be able to hold such pure faith in her that there was no room left for doubt. It was effortless for him to slip past her barriers, denials, and twisted up confusing feelings to reach her heart directly, always with a touch so delicate it wouldn’t disturb foam on the water.

Bit by bit, Jamie felt the knot in her chest loosen, and she found herself relaxing against Cove as she let his heartfelt words settle in. Instead of the static of broken thoughts, she listened to the familiar rhythm of waves meeting the shore, and the slow, steady breaths of her best friend by her ear. Her eyes drifted closed and took a moment to simply breathe.

Finally, Jamie started to see things in a new light.

When Jamie opened her eyes again, she was quickly lost in Cove’s aquamarine eyes that somehow seemed to glow in the moonlight as they focused only on her. The way the moon made his eyes shine so bright despite the darkness of night was one of the first things she noticed about him on the night they met. Although those enchanting eyes held sadness like they did that night, they were also overflowing with affection for her.

Cove always saw her so clearly, all of her, both the good and the bad. He could see her like no one else.

Although Jamie thought she had cried out all her tears before, a couple more beaded up in her eyes before slowly trickling down her face. Despite their presence, she managed a weak but genuine smile. Somehow, Cove always found a way to give her exactly what she needed the most. “Thank you, Cove.”

The tension wrapped around Cove eased a little as well, as he watched the light slowly return to Jamie’s eyes, and he returned her delicate smile with a comforting one of his own.

“You know,” he continued carefully, “Elizabeth and I haven't ever been super close, but… I don’t think she’d want her family to break up, or drift apart.” He paused for a moment to offer a weak attempt at a wry smile. “Even if she complains about it sometimes.”

Jamie let out a breath that was almost a laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards a little higher, and Cove took that as a victory.

His expression softened as he continued. “And your moms definitely don’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re not blood related, you’re definitely family.” He reached up to gently brush away the stray tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “I can see that… and I hope you can too.”

Jamie leaned into the touch, her eyelids dipping, but she didn’t want to stop looking into Cove’s ocean blue eyes. They were so bright and clear, able to see her with such sincerity. She could feel his reassurance in the way he looked at her, the certainty he held that despite everything she was going through, she and her family were going to be okay.

As his tender words and caring heart wrapped around her like a warm blanket, Jamie felt herself growing a little more certain as well. Cove was right - she didn’t have to apologize for how she felt, or even make excuses for it.

She didn’t have to deny how she felt either, not even to herself.

As the pain slowly receded like the tide, Jamie felt her almost overwhelming affection for Cove flow in to take its place. Mere words couldn’t express how grateful she was that he was here to support her, that despite seeing what she believed was such an ugly part of her, he accepted it and helped her see that it wasn’t as terrible as she convinced herself it was.

More than anything else in this world, Jamie knew that she could count on Cove to be there when she needed him.

Jamie no longer felt the need to hold herself back from fully accepting the comfort Cove offered her. She snuggled in closer, drawing her arms around his torso as she nuzzled her cheek against his. Being close to him, touching him, hugging him - it was always a soothing balm no matter how easily he could send her heart fluttering out of control. There was nothing more right in this world than being in his arms.

Although Cove started to become aware of their intimate position, it was a mercifully distant concern when compared to everything else that merely quickened his pulse. Not even his nervous crush on her could compare to the relief he felt knowing that his best friend was finally starting to feel better. He returned her affectionate gesture, brushing his cheek against hers, feeling her soft warmth and breathing in the faint smell of ocean and flowers that was distinctly Jamie. Despite how anxious he felt at times being so close to her, he couldn’t help but feel content holding her like this.

The two remained like that a while longer, neither inclined to separate now that the silence between them had softened into something comforting and familiar. For a while they simply sat together on the sand, idly watching the ocean as it reflected countless stars and the moon above.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing

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hops-hunny · 3 years ago

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That’s Why I Love You

Pairing: Pothead!Fuckboy!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It’s fuck love till you’re fucking and in love

Warnings: Angst with one line of hope, a dash of smut

A/N: Honestly this is what I thought of when I heard the song below. This song is so addicting in all the worst ways. Also ty lxngbottom for tempting me to write this -mwah-

He couldn't stop, he was addicted. Every square inch, every kiss, every single thrust had him wanting more and more. Neville didn't know it was possible to be addicted to one person so much. He knew what it was like to be driven by lust considering most his bedroom endevors were. Neville was no rookie when it came to fucking, in fact, other than his herbology skill (and his weed) it was the thing he was most commonly known for.

Hookups were his thing because hookups were simple. They don’t require any emotions. A simple in and out, fuck her and leave. It was something he did with almost no thought. Why would he? It wasn’t his responsibility for the feelings that could occur or form, the people he screwed around with weren’t stupid and if they were once again, that wasn’t his problem. He made it abundantly clear to every girl he slept with that he was not in the market for anything more than a casual fuck, maybe even a string of fucks. And even though he saw no problem with it, quite a few people did causing him to have a notorious reputation. No one would’ve ever saw it coming during 1st year but now, Neville was a fuckboy in his prime (and a damn good one too).

But sometimes he found himself thinking of how he could change, how he could put it out on the line for one girl, one really addicting girl. Her name coursed through his skin at the same rate his blood did and fuck was it scary. Neville couldn’t quite place it at first. He thought she just had fire pussy, which she did, but he was smart enough to know it was more than that. The first time he had tried to figure it out was when he was hotboxing his dorm with Seamus and Ron.

“What’s on your mind, man?” Seamus asked, coughing and spluttering a bit as he gave Neville the blunt. Neville took it, taking a perfect hit as he looked up at his friend confused. “You’re looking unusually tense for someone who smokes as much as we do.”

“Nah mate, I’m just thinking. Y’know that chick I’ve been fucking?” he asked, leaning back as he ran a hand through his wavy tresses.

“Which one? That’d be like asking ‘you see that star in the sky?’.” he rolled his eyes at the boy, handing him back the joint roughly.

“You know, (Y/n). The one with the thighs?” Seamus’s eyes lit up, making a growling noise at the mention of the girl. She was attractive, intensely so. However, she ignored the advances of just about every man that had approached her. Every man but Neville that is. “Well like she’s been making me feel things. Like weird things. I don’t know if she’s used a-”

“Easy man. You’re in love. Simple as that.”

When Seaus had proposed that idea, he thought it was absurd! He didn’t do love, love was stupid. It made you blind and clueness, an absolute fool. Love requires you to take each and every part of yourself and expose it to someone, a stranger, and hope, pray that the accept you for who you are. How could he do that, when he didn’t know who he was himself? But the more and more he mulled over Seamus’s words, the more the idea creeped up to him. He tried to ignore it, running and running from it, but it was at every corner, down every corridor, and in every orgasm. He grew suspicious of him ownself when he started canceling his other shags, making excuses of why he couldn’t see them in order to fit her into his schedule. When he was fucking her, screwing her brains out, he didn’t have to acknowledge his feelings.

He knew it wasn’t fair to her but to hell with it. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her cause afterall they both wanted the same thing, to feel something other than love, something other than the pain that came with feelings.

Unbeknownst to him, she was in the same boat. She knew as soon as the feeling first came to be in her. It was crazy really, love really was the way they described it in books. One minute, you’re ignoring every man to ever approach you, then suddenly you’re banging your plug day in and day out. (Y/n) blamed the smoke sessions because that’s what it started out as. They were small, intimate, and cozy. Neville always had the best jams to smoke to but they were so sensual...so overwhelming. It seemed like she could feel his words embedding into her skin.

She had never wondered about what they were. They were aquaintances who smoked a bowl together from time to time. But something in her that night, whether it be the bud or her subconscious mind made her take that leap. (Y/n) knew she was responsible for it all in the first place. Neville had been nothing but kind, never touching her, never trying to make an advance on her- but maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was frustrated that the guy that got around most at Hogwarts had never made an advance on her. Maybe she was in love with the idea of the chase and not the idea of him.

Is what she’d say if she was truly in denial. She knew what she was feeling. She had been in love once before which is exactly why she didn’t want to fall in love again. Draco had left her a cold, empty, emotionless shell of what she once was. It took her ages to build back that confidence and she wasn’t in the market to lose it again.

But when he looked down at her, with those pretty hazel eyes, sometimes she couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to fall in love with him. What it’d be like to stay in his bed after they were done, smoking a blunt together through a drowsy exchange of words. For him to look at her with love instead of lust, to make love together instead of the harsh fucking they’d usually do. Even though she had came to terms with it herself, it didn’t matter. She knew Neville and Neville knew her (or at least who she used to be).

“F-fuck! Oh my god, right there Nev! Y-ye-es!” she moaned out, arching her back into his grasp. He tightened his grip, adding a force he didn’t know he had into the already strenuous rhythm that he had been going. They had been going at it for hours, (Y/n) on her 5th orgasm and Neville barely just beginning to reach his first. Other than the sheer size of his dick, Neville’s stamina made him a serious threat.

“Y-yeah? Right here, baby?” he asked through staggered breaths, hitting her spot repeatedly for emphasis. He ripped his eyes from the ceiling, looking into hers. Her fucked out expression combined with the way she was clenching around him was enough to make him lose it. With his orgasm drawing near, he became feral, balls slapping against her with each harsh thrust as he choked her. He pressed her deeper into the bed, resting his forehead against hers as he felt himself about to release and with the way she was thrashing about and whimpering, he could tell she was close too. “Oh fuck, angel!”

“I love you!” they both screamed, eyes widening as they came down from their high, the weight of their words crashing down on them. He pulled out of her quickly, staring at her as she stared back.

“You...I...what?” he whispered. However, she didn’t respond, quickly putting her panties back on as she slid her dress over her head. Was she really leaving? After they had both confessed so feverishly? “You’re not actually about to leave are you? Really?! (Y/n) I heard you say it, I heard you say it loud and clear!” however the girl still wouldn’t look at him.

“Listen, Neville. We already have something good and I…” she trailed off as she opened the door. He gasped as she turned around, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You’re wrong, you’re wrong and you know it!” he seethed, watching as she froze, turning around the other way once again. “You can run away all you want, but I’m not giving up on you.” he said, sincerity laced through his words. Even though she didn’t respond, she had heard his words. Closing the door, she left without another sound.

‘That’s why I love you.’

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #Spotify

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songficsbyrissi · 4 years ago

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You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)

“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake

A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!

**************

You were doing it again.

You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.

“Michael?”

“Yes, cookie?”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.

You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”

He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”

“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.

You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.

On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.

You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”

“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.

“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.

He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.

“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”

You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”

“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?

“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”

“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“

“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“

“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.

“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”

Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”

“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.

“You too, Princess.”

You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.

You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.

“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”

“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.

“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”

Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”

Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”

As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.

“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”

Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”

You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.

After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.

However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn’t.

You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.

Erik:

Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.

You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.

You:

I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.

Erik:

I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?

You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.

You:

Fine. We’ll be friends.

Erik:

With benefits? 👀

This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.

You:

Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.

Erik:

Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️

After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.

Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.

“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. “Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”

Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”

You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”

“Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.

It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”

“Nah, we designed it.”

A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.

“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”

Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?

“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”

Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.

“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.

Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.

“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”

Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.

“Erik, get up.”

He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.

“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”

Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.

“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”

You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”

Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.

“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.

“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”

You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”

Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”

“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”

Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”

And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.

“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”

This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.

“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”

TAGS: @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelmaree @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelpotterlove @guccixcucci @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @fd-writes @rbhp @fandom-fangirl22 @bigchoose

(Sorry if you got double tagged or I missed you. I need to get my tags together I know )

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fic #erik x reader #erik killmonger x you #erik killmonger fanfic #Erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger x black reader #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger fanfiction #Erik killmonger fluff #you're mines still #black panther #black panther imagine #black panther fic #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic

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starlingflight · 3 years ago

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@thisismegz as requested, the missing scenes from Everything I Wanted of Ginny dealing with her guilt over how things went between her and Dean.

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The sun felt especially bright contrasted as it was by nearly a full day in the dungeons with no one but Snape for company. Harry savoured the way the light summer breeze tickled his uncovered arms and the way Ginny’s hand felt in his as they made their way out into the grounds.

It seemed the majority of Hogwarts’ population had decided to take advantage of the good weather, for the lawn beside the lake was crowded with huddles of students. Their usual tree was already taken by a noisy group of fourth-year girls and so Ginny led him to a free patch of grass not far from the lake's stony shore. She sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling Harry with her.

He went to position himself beside her but Ginny clearly had other ideas, she shuffled slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders and smoothly guided Harry’s head into her lap so that he was lying on the soft grass with Ginny above him, her fingers tracing lightly across his forehead.

“If your brother sees this he’s going to lose his mind,” Harry warned, though in truth he was finding it difficult to care. The headache that had been building behind his eyes, caused by a long day in the dark, stuffy dungeon was receding with every stroke of Ginny’s fingers over his skin.

Unsurprisingly, Ginny seemed to care even less about Ron’s reaction than Harry did. Her only response to his warning was to gently slide his glasses off and place them carefully on the grass beside them, making it easier for her fingers to trace the features of his face without obstruction.

Neither of them said anything for a while, Ginny was now little more than a blur of creamy skin and striking red hair above him. Eventually, Harry let his eyes slowly drift closed, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his face and the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo drifting to him on the summer breeze.

Snape became nought but a distant memory under Ginny’s careful attention and Harry was vaguely considering that there was a strong chance he was going to fall asleep, warm and content as he was, when Ginny broke the silence between them.

“I think I'm going to apologise to Dean," She declared.

It took Harry a moment to register what she’d said, his brain felt fuzzy from the heat. When his wits finally caught up with him, Harry almost asked her why but he immediately realised he didn’t need to.

He’d seen the guilt on Ginny’s face last night and he’d felt the same thing himself. They’d both admitted they’d been in denial about their feelings for each other for a while and maybe that was no one’s fault but it didn’t change the fact that Dean had been caught up in it.

“If I tell you I think it’s a bad idea are you going to think it’s because I’m jealous or threatened or something?”

Ginny's fingers were still stroking lightly across his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and Harry found that it was almost impossible to feel jealous given his current situation.

“No,” She said mildly. “I’m going to ask you why you think that, though.”

He’d rather she didn’t but if Harry was being honest with himself, he knew her better than to expect Ginny to blindly accept what he was saying. “I’ve been in his position. I watched you with him for months, and I didn’t expect you to break up or begrudge either of you your happiness or anything but…”

Harry trailed off, still not used to telling anyone his deepest feelings and still not entirely comfortable with it.

"But?" Ginny prompted, one of her hands working its way up into Harry's hair, massaging his scalp. He felt himself relax immediately.

"But there isn't anything you could have said to me to make me feel better about the situation, to make me not want you."

Ginny's hands didn't stop their slow exploration of his hair for even a second. "It's not the same thing," She said without missing a beat.

"How isn't it?"

"It was never like this with Dean," Ginny unwound one of her hands from his hair in order to gesture between the two of them before quickly returning it, much to Harry's delight. "I was never this happy, not even at the start. The thing that you were waiting for is so much better than what Dean lost."

Secretly, Harry wholeheartedly disagreed with this. The thing that he'd been waiting for, the thing that Dean lost, was Ginny and there were no words on the planet that could ease the devastating blow that Harry already knew would come from ever losing her.

"You really want to talk to him?" Harry asked, knowing it was pointless to argue with her when she'd already made her mind up.

“I really do,” Ginny responded and Harry knew the matter was settled.

“Okay,” He agreed. “Did you want to go now?” He added reluctantly, he could quite happily stay in this spot for the rest of his life.

“No,” Ginny said quickly, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get out of detention, you’re staying right where you are.”

Ginny and Dean did not cross paths for the rest of the weekend. Nor was he anywhere to be seen at breakfast or lunch on Monday. Ginny was beginning to strongly suspect that he was avoiding her when she quite literally walked into him on her way out of Ancient Runes on Monday afternoon.

“Sorry - oh!” Dean’s apologetic smile faltered as he took Ginny in.

“I’ve been looking for you!” Ginny said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, though Dean still didn’t look cheered at her pronouncement.

“Er, have you?”

“Yeah, do you mind if we go somewhere and talk?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way that made Ginny’s heart sink. They’d been friends for years, they’d been close since the first D.A. meeting and now the two of them had reached a point where the prospect of holding a conversation was enough to set Dean on edge.

“It’ll be really quick, I promise.” Ginny tried again, hoping her face held as much sincerity as she currently felt.

“Alright,” Dean said reluctantly, gesturing for Ginny to lead the way.

There was a low wooden bench halfway down the corridor, under a row of mullioned windows which revealed the sweeping vistas of the Hogwarts grounds and the lake. If nothing else, at least the view would be pleasant.

Ginny took a seat on the bench and Dean followed her lead; she couldn’t help but note he was sitting as far away from her as physically possible. One good shove and he’d topple over onto the castle’s stone floor.

“How have you been?” She began cautiously.

“Fine,” Dean responded. Ginny raised a sceptical eyebrow. Dean had always been forthcoming with his feelings, one-word answers weren’t his style at all. “I’ve been good, Ginny. I’ve been working on my art - I’ve had a lot of emotion to channel into my drawings, I think I’ve got some really good ones for my portfolio.”

Ginny nodded, trying not to think too hard about what emotions Dean may have been using to fuel his creative pursuits. “You were always very talented.”

It was Dean’s turn to raise a dubious eyebrow at Ginny now. “Is that what you wanted to say to me? You like my drawings?”

“No, I wanted to apologise,” She said slowly, half-expecting Dean to shut her down before she’d explained herself. When he said nothing, but continued to look at her expectantly Ginny took a deep breath before continuing. “I should have ended things between us long before I did. I knew your feelings were stronger than mine and I shouldn’t have kept stringing you along.”

Dean listened patiently as Ginny spoke, but he began to shake his head in disagreement as she finished. “That wasn’t what bothered me. It was that I could clearly see where things were going between the two of you, but you were so adamant that I was seeing things that weren’t there. It was frustrating.”

Ginny began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her hair, slipping the long strands between the ends of her fingers. “You’re right,” She said quietly, looking not at Dean but out of the window where she could just make out the Giant Squid’s tentacles rising out of the water in the distance. “I know it probably doesn’t help, but I hope you know I wasn’t lying to you on purpose - I really believed our banter and joking was innocent, it was unbelievable to me that Harry might actually have liked me.”

Dean made a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle; Ginny looked back from the window to find that he was smiling at her. “Of course he liked you, have you seen you?”

“Stop it!” Ginny exclaimed, reaching out and shoving Dean lightly enough that he didn’t fall off the bench as she’d been worried he might earlier. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!”

“You stop it!” Dean argued through a laugh. “Serious conversations don’t suit you at all!”

Ginny grinned, it had been so long since they’d joked with one another. Even in the weeks before they’d broken up all they’d done was argue. “Does that mean we can be friends?”

“Honestly, I think friends will suit us better than a relationship ever did,” Dean said sincerely. “No offence, but I didn’t find the constant fighting particularly enjoyable and I don’t think you did either.”

Ginny chose not to answer, there was no point in going over their old fights now. When she looked back on her time with Dean it was as though she was remembering something from a different lifetime. Instead, she pushed herself up from the bench and waited for Dean to join her. “Come on, let’s go and set the Hogwarts rumour mill alight by walking into dinner together.”

Dean fell into step beside Ginny without protest, the cautious, guarded look that had been upon his face at the beginning of the conversation was no longer in sight.

#hinny #harry x ginny #dean thomas #hp fanfic #hbp missing moment

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solinarimoon · 4 years ago

Text

Fields of Wildflowers

Chapter 8

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: Nothing really to note for this chapter except friendships and more fluff and some small angst I guess. Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list for this story. If you wish to catch up on previous chapters, you can do so here. Or visit my masterlist.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3378

“Please, you deserve a few days to yourself, without the duties of a handmaiden, Cwen. After all you and the rest of the group have been through, it is the least I can do.”

Cwen found herself standing peering out the window of Aelfwynn’s chambers, watching the everyday commotion of the people going about their lives. The woman walking with her basket slung on her hip and her other hand holding onto their child who desperately tried to race to something across the yard. The soldier’s casually strolling on their rounds. The smithey and alley where Sihtric had pulled her the night before. Cwen’s eyes lingered on the small alley for several moments. A longing began to stir low in her pelvis.

Cwen was broken from her thoughts when she heard Aethelflaed speak her name a bit louder.

“Cwen, I don’t think you've been listening. Which just further justifies you taking a few days to yourself. It is not only Aelfwynn who has been through an ordeal. Please take some time,”

Aethelflaed was seated next to Aelfwynn’s bedside where the young girl was stirring. “I know, Lady Aethelflaed, but,”

“My daughter is safe and at home because of you, Cwen,” Aetheleflaed interrupted Cwen’s argument. “And we have Wyllath to help care for her as well. She has missed Aelfwynn and caring for her while you all were at Saltwic. The children will be well looked after. I insist.”

Cwen sighed but felt her lips tug upward in a grin, “As you wish, my lady. But you know I would have done anything in my power to protect Aelfwynn and would do it again if needed.”

“I know this, Cwen. She and I are both blessed to have you.”

“Thank you, my lady. I will take my leave then.”

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

After allowing herself a few hours of sleep, Cwen’s feet could not help taking her out to the yard where she knew the children were playing. It did not matter that she did not have handmaiden duties to fulfill this day. She still wanted to check in on her little ones.

Aelfwynn and Aethelstan were both giggling and dashing behind trees and bushes. Wyllath, Aelfwynn’s Mercian handmaiden was playing a lively game of hide and seek with the children.

Aethelstan was the first to notice Cwen watching them. He immediately raced to her with his arms outstretched.

Aelfwynn came near after similarly enveloping Cwen’s waist in a tight embrace.

Chuckling at their youthful exuberance, Cwen asked, “and how are my little birds faring this morning?”

Both children clamoured to speak over one another.

Continuing to laugh at their antics, Cwen told them to speak one at a time.

Aelfwynn spoke first.

“I am doing much, much, much better, Cwen. Wyllath has been chasing us and we keep surprising her.”

“Yes and then she squeals and we run away! Would you like to play with us? Please!” Aethelstan pleaded.

Cwen smiled at them. It was beautiful to see them carefree and happy, being children once more.

Wyllath had joined them, giving Cwen a slight hug while addressing her, “Cwen! It is so good to see you. You look well. Aelfwynn has told me all about your adventures.”

Cwen stopped her, “I would hardly call it adventures. More like running and fighting for our lives,” she said albeit with a smile.

Aelfwynn looked up to Cwen and scrunched her nose, “But I think it was adventurous. I was scared and sick, but there was still a lot of excitement. Remember playing in the river? And the huge tree we slept under?”

It amazed Cwen to see the resilience of youth. Despite all of the trauma from their journey, Aelfwynn remembered the glimmers of happiness.

“You are right, I guess little bird. I think I am just remembering the more upsetting parts of our journey. Some of which you would not remember.” Cwen replied while placing her hand on top of Aelfwynn’s hair.

Aelfwynn smiled as if she had won an argument.

“And you got to spend more time with Sihtric,” the young girl added while giggling with Aethelstan.

“Oh, run off and play more you two.” Cwen demanded, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Even the children have taken notice, she thought.

Wyllath lingered a moment longer, “Aelfwynn has mentioned this man several times. It is clear by how she speaks of him, of all of your warrior companions really, that they took great care over you all.”

“Yes, they did. They are good men.” Cwen replied, not missing the knowing smirk and glint in Wyllath’s eye.

“And maybe one in particular that took great care of you, Cwen? This Sihtric?” Wyllath could not help herself asking. The curiosity of a girl a few years younger than Cwen could not be held at bay.

Feeling the heat continue to rise in her cheeks, Cwen replied, “Possibly, Wyllath. But if you will excuse me, I need to speak with Eadith.” Allowing no other confirmation or denial of Wyllath’s questions, Cwen slipped away from the young woman and headed towards her friend.

Eadith sat on a bench beneath a sprawling tree observing the children in their play.

“Good day, Eadith. You look well.”

“As do you, Cwen. I see a healthy blush to your cheeks. But that may just be a response to young Wyllath’s questions about a certain Dane of our acquaintance,” Eadith replied with a laugh.

Cwen’s mouth dropped open in shock as Eadith continued, “the wind carries. I could hear her prodding.”

Sitting down with a huff, Cwen responded, “Wyllath has always been curious to know about the lives and loves of those around her. She is a sweet woman, though still very young. Kind and loving with Aelfwynn. I usually enjoy speaking with her…” she trailed off watching Wyllath and the children run and laugh.

“But not now?” Eadith questioned. “Or just not when it comes to Sihtric?”

When Cwen shifted her eyes to glance sideways at Eadith, she smirked but said nothing.

“Finan and I wondered where you and he disappeared to last night. You weren’t gone long enough to have…”

But her words were cut off by Cwen shushing her and playfully pushing her shoulder into her friend.

“No, of course not. But…” Cwen took a deep breath, “you were right. Anout your observations before. About his passion. I have never felt so…” Cwen trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“We all see the way he looks at you. He is yours, Cwen. And I suspect that you are his as well, if you will allow it.”

A gentle breeze wafted through the yard, bringing with it the laughter of the children. Cwen kept her eyes fixated on the scene in front of her but felt her brows pull into a frown. Her fingers twisting and ringing each other in her lap. No matter how strong her feelings for Sihtric, the idea of allowing herself to be intimate and vulnerable dredged up painful thoughts.

As if knowing where her friend's mind had drifted, Eadith reached over to take one of Cwen’s hands, stopping their worried fidgeting.

“Please do not let what my brother has taken from you, what he has done to you stop you from finding happiness.”

Cwen searched Eadith’s face and squeezed her hand in return offering her a slight nod and smile. “Thank you Eadith. I have made promises to myself to not allow my history to get in the way of my future. But making good on those promises will take time.” Cwen patted Eadith’s hand and continued, “Sihtric has said he will wait for me. So we are moving slowly.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Cwen continued with a knowing smile, “As I suspect you and Finan may be as well.”

Eadith gasped and turned her face to meet Cwen’s own, but before she could speak their conversation was interrupted.

“Excuse me, ladies.”

“Lady Aethelflaed, good day,” Eadith spoke while standing to greet the Lady of Mercia.

“My Lady,” Cwen replied while standing to embrace her.

“I thought I told you to take the day to rest, Cwen?”

“You did, but I could not help coming to check on them for a short while. I did rest some this morning.”

“I am glad. In truth I came to speak with Eadith though.”

Aethelflaed turned her body to meet the other woman’s.

“I must thank you, Lady Eadith. I was wrong to doubt you. You delivered my message to Lord Uhtred as you said you would.”

“I was happy to be of assistance,” Eadith replied with an eager smile.

“And from what Cwen has told me, you cared for Aelfwynn on the road. Helped to cool her fever.” Aethelflaed’s eyes gazed across the field at her daughter.

“She is a fearless child. It must be in her blood,” Eadith replied.

“My daughter is fond of you.”

“And I her.”

Cwen watched the exchange between the two women in cautious silence. Having grown up with Aethelflaed, it was easier for Cwen to know when the woman was mulling over a serious matter rather than engaging in social niceties.

“Perhaps,” Eadith invoked, “I could be of use to her here. I could help Cwen and Wyllath with their handmaiden duties for Aelfwynn?”

Cwen’s eye darted to her lady to gauge her reaction to such a request. Aethelflaed brought her eyes to meet Eadith and took several steps closer to speak and yet not be overheard, “I am curious. Why did you reveal your brother as Aethelred’s murderer?”

Sighing, Eadith replied “Eardwulf may be my brother, but I knew what he did was wrong.” Cwen’s eyes found her friends as she continued, “My brother did many things that were wrong. And I would like to try and correct his errors if I can. I chose to be loyal to you, my lady. And to Lord Uhtred because I believe in what you and he are doing.”

“I thank you. But your loyalties remain to be seen.”

Cwen interjected, “My Lady Aethelflaed, I can vouch for Eadith and her loyalties,” But her words were cut short.

“I will judge that for myself. But I thank you, nonetheless, for your aid in seeing my daughter safely returned to me.”

After Aethelflaed said farewell and returned indoors to complete her other duties, the ladies returned to the bench.

“I fear I will never win her trust. And I do not blame her for that.”

“That may be true for the lady. But if it is any consolation, you have earned my trust. And my respect. And in equal measure, my friendship. You were the one who brought our attention to the healer in the forest. And the one who broached the difficult choice to use the wormwood. I still do not know and probably never will know if that is what saved her or if it was something else.” Cwen reached out and clasped Eadith’s hand once more while giving the red haired woman a small smile.

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

Later that afternoon saw Cwen tagging along with the Coccham warriors as they drank themselves silly. Stiorra was also in their midst enjoying spending time with her father’s oathmen and attempting to keep pace with them.

The group pushed through the doorway into the ale house with a boisterous Finan encouraging the usually stoic baby monk, who was protesting any more ale.

“Come on, Osferth. Everyone knows you cure like with like. We drink.” Finan admonished Osferth as they approached the bar. Cwen laughed wholeheartedly at the exchange between the men.

“If the man wishes to be done drinking, you will let him, Finan. I, for one, do not wish to be taking care of a sick baby monk.” Cwen chastised, receiving a raucous round of laughter from her friends. The alcohol had made her lower her guard and allowed her to feel a lightheartedness that had been missing since their water fight by the stream.

“Well here then dear Cwen, you will drink his mug,” Finan all but shouted while trying to hand Cwen a mug.

“Oh no, I will take a break too,” she laughed.

“Alright and what is your excuse then?” Finan questioned exasperatedly.

“I do not know any of you well enough to let my guard down and be drunk around you,” Cwen quipped, an impish smile gracing her face.

“Oh no, living on the run with us, traveling in the wilderness, running for our lives. You are right, we barely know each other.” Finan’s retort was met with another round of laughter.

“Well, I do.” Stiorra glided in between Finan’s outstretched arm to grab the mug of ale.

“Oh no, you have had enough,” Finan countered.

The rest of his words were lost to Cwen. Sihtric had casually slung his arm up to rest on her shoulders. The Dane continued to hold a quiet and reserved manner in relation to his Irish brother, but the alcohol had definitely reduced some of his brooding nature to allow a more carefree demeanor. The closeness of him captured Cwen’s focus like a candle in a dark room. She felt him stagger slightly and held on to his torso to steady him.

“Careful, Sihtric. You may be too much in your cups now too.” Cwen looked up to meet a soft and relaxed expression on his face. Her smile reached all the way to her eyes as she watched him.

She felt Sihtric lean his lips towards her ear, “your smile is like the stars at night, my lady. I never tire of looking at them.”

Cwen felt a rush of heat settle low in her belly once more.

She placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose which prompted an equally large grin to grace Sihtric’s lips. He pulled her closer into him and kissed the top of her head before reaching behind her to tweak Osferth’s chin.

“Hey,” he got the warrior monk's attention, “stay awake.”

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

Several rounds later they emerged from the ale house, blinking at the brightness of the day.

A passing soldier shoved Osferth who stumbled into an unassuming Cwen.

“Hey!” Sihtric hollered at the soldier while reaching out to steady her.

“I’m fine. Osferth?”

The young man just simply held up his hand as he hunched over gathering his breath. He could obviously not keep up with the amount of ale he had been served.

Glancing around, it was easy to notice the unusual movements of the Wessex soldiers. All across the yard, soldiers were hurrying this way and that. The general attitude around seemed harried and bothered.

“If today were a day of celebration for the new lord of Mercia, I would fear that King Edward’s guards are seizing Mercia.” Finan mused as they all began shuffling along the street.

“They do not look like they are celebrating,” Sihtric pondered aloud.

“Something has changed. I must see Aethelflaed,” Cwen mused.

“We will see you to the hall safely, Cwen” Finan assured her.

The group began to quickly make their way towards the great hall, as Sihtric and Finan instinctively moved to walk on either side of Cwen. Cwen felt a hand gently guiding her along her lower back and she glanced at Sihtric.

Any trace of the carefree, intoxicated man was wiped from his face. In its place she saw that focus and concentration she had first identified with him all that time ago, in Saltwic.

His eyes scanned the surroundings constantly, while his hand remained a solid and guiding force on their way to find Aethelflaed and their lord.

In their haste to find their lord and lady, they rounded a corner and almost bumped into a guard who immediately brandished his sword at them.

Cwen found her body shielded by Sihtric as the men raised their hands.

“We meant nothing. Just didn’t see you there.” Finan spoke for all of them, quickly defusing the situation.

The guard sheathed his weapon and returned to his business while Sihtric, Cwen, Finan, and Osferth found another route to the great hall.

“Stiorra, find Eadith. Make sure you two stay together and try to stay indoors somewhere. I will find you soon,” Cwen instructed, her voice taking on a harsh tone unusual for her.

Finan gave Stiorra a stern look and word when the young woman made to protest the demand.

Upon entering the great hall, it was clear that the lords of Mercia were unaware of the occupation that is occurring outside their doors.

Finan spoke quietly to Uhtred who informed Aethelflaed of her brother’s seizure of Aelesburg.

While the others stood on the steps of the hall discussing matters with Father Pyrlig, Cwen waited just inside the doors.

Eyes searching, Sihtric scanned the faces surrounding him when he realized Cwen was not among those outside.

When his eyes did find her, his feet took him to her side before his mind could give the command.

Cwen watched him approach her with eyes wide open, anxious.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” She questioned him as he took his place beside her, also watching the exchange between the figures on the steps.

“It is,” he replied. Simple and honest.

“I hope Stiorra listens and has found Eadith,” Cwen worried.

“I am sure they are well and safe.”

When Cwen did not reply, Sihtric shifted his gaze to see her staring but unseeing. Brow furrowed.

“What is it, lady?”

Broken from her thoughts, Cwen looked at her feet a moment before replying.

“It is times like these, when men are drunk on power, that women have cause to be afraid,” she breathed. Her words were so soft, Sihtric had to strain his ears to hear her.

“Is that why you stopped drinking with us? You feared we were drunk on power from our lord's new position?”

Sihtric’s words were not angry. Not accusing. But his voice was low and deep, pained.

“It was a jest meant for laughs and to take the attention away from Osferth,” Cwen stalled while fidgeting with her fingers again and not meeting Sihtric’s eyes.

After a breath, she felt the knuckles of Sihtric’s hand gently guide her chin up to meet his gaze.

“And many jests have foundations in truth,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Cwen breathed as her eyes began to glisten with unshed tears.

Sihtric did not pry. He did not ask her to go on. He waited for her to speak. And if she did not, he would understand.

All these things Cwen knew. She knew he valued her words and did not push her to be ready prematurely. He had proven this to her in the forest and again after kissing her in the alley.

“Eardwulf was fond of drinking. Especially when he felt the need to feel in control. To exert power. So that is the truth behind my words in the ale house.”

Sihtric stared deeply into Cwen’s eyes as his hand shifted from her chin to cup the nape of her neck. He placed a kiss on her temple before shifting his position as he and Cwen followed his lord and the others inside. It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Aethelflaed.

Once inside the hall again, Uhtred spoke hurried words to Finan and then turned to his other men.

“You two, with me.”

“Where to, Lord?” Osferth asked as he followed along behind Uhtred.

Knowing his lord meant them to likely put themselves at risk and definitely taking him from Cwen’s side, Sihtric clasped arms with Finan conveying unspoken meaning before he turned to Cwen.

Quickly, he brought his forehead to meet hers while grasping her hips tightly..

“If tensions rise, stay close by Finan.”

Cwen clasped her hands on either side of his neck and breathed him in for the briefest moment.

“Be safe.”

And he swept silently and quickly from the hall to catch up with his lord.

Tag List: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world

#The Last Kingdom #Sihtric #sihtric x oc #finan #Uhtred #osferth #Eadith #Fields of Wildflowers

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barnesand · 3 years ago

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the scent of old stories [ ii ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! author’s note: we have one cameo for this story so far, but hey, we’re back in the bookstore and the pining shall commence.

chapter one can be found here: x

You thought that your tedious workload would drown out the reminiscing thoughts of yesterday, but you were wrong. Despite having your hands full with at least ten toddlers that were all vying for your attention (Jess needed you to look at her blue clay creation, despite you having no actual clue what it was supposed to be), you mind still found its way back the Second Hand. Working at a day care center is usually all-consuming—you couldn’t think of the last time you found yourself blinking away thoughts, not when there were so many things happening all at once.

Not that the children you cared for were the embodiment of chaos. But you had to pay attention to them—they were toddlers.

Your encounter with Bucky was three days ago. And in those three days, your mind still plagued you with a looping thought: why haven’t you gone back? Your mind was very correct in questioning your avoidance of the store. There was no point to it—clearly, Bucky was flirting with you. You might have lost your ability to return flirtatious remarks, because of reasons, but there was no denying that fact. Bucky wanted you to come back, to get that list of his favorite haunts. And, maybe, he would tag along on a few of those locations.

Ninety percent of your brain was scolding you about it, while the remaining ten percent remained on the fence about it. You know—good old denial: because what if he wasn’t?

You wouldn’t call yourself outright pathetic for believing what the ten percent had to say, but you were disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you couldn’t give in and just do it—you did, after all, make a deal to return. Bucky had given you a free book, and that free book had come with a condition, and you had to honor it. What kind of person would you be—what kind of bibliophile would you be—if you didn’t honor it? But because you still quaked at the idea of returning, and because you feared that you would become a sputtering mess once again, you wouldn’t.

You’d considered gaining an outside perspective—but you didn’t really know your coworkers well enough. You spoke to them about several things, of course, but you hadn’t delved into the personal topics yet. You also humored the idea of calling your mother—but you really didn’t need to go down that wormhole of call. She’d find your indecisive thoughts a hint that you secretly wanted to come back home and you didn’t want to have an argument over that again.

By now, your ten toddlers have been corralled by another associate into quiet time—and for a brief second you considered asking your kids if you should go back to the pretty man at the bookstore. No—no, that’s too complicated of a story to tell and their track record with opinions wasn’t doing so well for you.

Your quiet dilemma would remain that—a quiet one.

In the last hours of your shift, you tried to occupy your mind as much as possible. The toddlers kept in your care must have noticed the keen focus you developed, because they seemed more chaotic than usual. By the end of it, they were nearly tired out as their parents picked them up. Once the last child was picked up, you quickly cleaned up the mess they’d made. Indeed, you did manage to lose track of those plaguing thoughts, but the moment you were alone they returned as loud as ever. You pressed your head to the too-small crafting table and let out a meager sigh.

“Do I go?” You said out loud, tapping your forehead once more—you wanted to knock the solution out of your head, but it wasn’t really working.

“Go where?”

You didn’t move from your position entirely, instead only shifting your head to the side to find one of your coworkers in the doorway to the playroom. Joaquin Torres was one of the coworkers you’d considered telling about your current situations. He was nice—well, nearly everyone who worked with you seemed nice, but he felt genuinely nice. He didn’t enter the room entirely, instead leaning the top half of his body inward. Almost as if he didn’t want to impose on your moment. You lifted your head, pulling yourself up from your crouching position to stand.

“Um,” you started. You straightened your clothes, re-tucking your shirt into your slacks. “Well—there’s this bookstore on the way home, and I don’t know if I should go back.”

“You like books, don’t you? Seems like an easy yes.” He joked, bringing himself into the room.

Oh, you wished it were an easy decision for you. The laugh that left you was short, slightly strained. Your hands settled on your hips.

“One would think that.” You nibbled at the inside of your cheek. “But the owner is really cute. And I think he’s expressed interest in me. I—yeah, I’m usually not like this around men but he’s really cute.”

He nodded. You couldn’t believe it was that easy to talk to him about it—geez, you should have mentioned it to him days ago. Even if he wasn’t responding right away, but you could see the contemplation in the furrow of his brow and that was enough. If Joaquin could just make that decision for you, all the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders would be lifted easily. Come to your rescue, please. Joaquin put his hands on his hips and gave yet another nod.

“You should probably stock up on kids’ books. It looks like they took a few.” He pointed to the bookshelf behind you—which, to your knowledge, was fuller than it usually was. But… you got the point. “Does this bookstore carry children’s books.”

Your heart was sputtering along, like the little engine that could. The only problem was that you don’t think you can. But you’ve already decided that you would follow Joaquin’s choice. If that meant that you would have to go to the Second Hand on your way home from work—for children’s books—then that was simply what you had to do. And if you saw Bucky instead of his employee, then that was just a bonus. Your sputtering heart could handle it; you think.

“Then,” you said, drawing in a deep sigh. “I will go grab some more books.”

You didn’t expect for the mid-September chill to creep in so quickly, but you wound up clutching your reefer coat closer to your body as you walked down the street. The small shop sign above the Second Hand grew closer, and your hands were already clammy at the idea of seeing him again. You already resigned to following Joaquin’s plan, that your intentions for coming in were for the kids only, but your body reacted otherwise. You’d stopped in front of the insurance agency, drawing in a deep breath to steel your nerves.

It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

A minute passed before you practically shoved yourself forward, scampering past the first window and through the door. The bell sang above you, and only the heads of other patrons perked up at the sound of it. To you, that felt like a good sign. Maybe he would become too occupied by the other people in the store to notice that you came back. You didn’t see any signs of Bucky, but you did find the aisle for children on the first floor, and you quickly made your way to the section.

It was colorful to say the least, and despite the fullness of the shelves it was surprisingly well organized. When it came to children’s books, though, you always veered toward the colorful ones. You crouched down, your fingers gliding across the thin spines of the books. The titles didn’t directly jump out at you, but then again, your mind was occupied, and you were constantly side glancing at the end of the aisles. But crouching on your knees, especially after a long day, proved taxing and you quickly moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. You did have three books picked out so far.

You heard the familiar thrum of Alpine’s purring behind you, and soon felt the feline brushing up against your back. You looked over your head, already smiling at the sight of them. How rude you were to not consider seeing Alpine again when you were stressing over the initial decision. Of course, you missed them, and their spine that was practically begging to be pet. But when you reached for them, they moved out of the way, only to come back. You shook your head, lightly laughing beneath your breath.

“What a tease,” you whisper, bending down.

You managed to rest a single fingertip beneath Alpine’s chin, scratching softly until the purring was so loud it could be a beacon to other cats. Your smiling was beaming, and you dared to scratch behind their ear.

You saw him move in a blur past your aisle, a massive stack of books in his arms—arms that were surprisingly thick and strained against the fabric of his Henley shirt. You would have paused the attention you were giving Alpine, but they absolutely refused to let you stop. And you didn’t have any time to move to a different aisle before Bucky reversed and filled the end of the aisle.

He wasted no time when it came to showing you that smile that made you swoon—almost, but your cheeks did feel warmer. You did smile back, hand still on Alpine.

“Hi,” you said first.

“Look who showed up,” Bucky responded with a short laugh. “Lemme put these books down, Reader. Hang on.”

As exhilarating as it was to watch him hold all those books, which caused your stomach to become all fluttery, you nodded in response. Were you always into arms? You’d assumed you were more into asses, but maybe you were wrong—it could just be all of him. Either way, he disappeared for a moment, and you quickly stole a breath for yourself. You considered standing up, but your legs felt as heavy as cement at the thought of it and you merely set the children’s books on one of the shelves and put your hands in your lap.

When Bucky came back, he had a folded papers in his hand and in one swift movement settled on to the floor beside you, his back pressed to the bookshelf you were facing. The three days you spent avoiding must’ve erased your memory of his appearance because pretty didn’t seem to cut it anymore. Your skin felt hot, your eyes tracing along the sharpness of his jawline, and your mouth practically watering at the pinkness of his soft lips. You were in way too deep, and, again, you were suddenly so concerned about Bucky noticing it.

He eyed you, the light from the fluorescents catching the cerulean of his irises so well. Like crystal clear waters.

He cleared his throat, unfolding the papers in his hand and from what you could tell he put too much effort into the list. Your eyes widened and you choked on a snort.

“Okay, uh,” you stammered for words. “That’s a lot.”

“I told you it would be extensive,” he chortled. “You’ve spent months here and you’ve only gone to the Brooklyn Bridge? It’s offensive.”

“I’ve gone to Coney Island!” You defended yourself. You leaned in, a momentary lapse in judgement. You eyed the list. “Which you’ve put on the list, by the way.”

“It’s for the experience.” He pointed beneath it, and you saw that he’d scribbled bullet points between each attraction he wanted you to see. “Two Coney dogs and then the Cyclone.”

You already found your mind filtering through the imagery of you on the Cyclone, knuckles blanched white as you gripped the handlebars for dear life. That wasn’t the issue, but instead the issue that arose from Bucky’s experience was the future candid photo immortalizing you vomiting the hot dogs you would have ingested beforehand. The hidden cameras on theme park rides always captured the worst moment, and for all you knew, that’s what Bucky was hoping for.

“You put thought into this list,” you commended him. “And you don’t even know me.”

A lot more thought than you’d initially anticipated; it would have made more sense if he simply told you a couple of places to visit. But to make at least two pages worth of locations and hidden spots for someone he’d only met once made no sense to you—that level of detail was better used one someone he knew.

He drew in a hiss of air, shoulders lifting in exaggeration before he seemed to settle on his next thought before glancing down at the list that now saw neatly in your lap. The tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, swiping at the corner of his mouth—a habit you’ve come to notice, in the two times you’ve seen him.

“What better way to get to know each other than by doing the things on my list.”

You might as well resign yourself to this fate; it wasn’t as if you were going to be outright tortured by him (torture, fortunately, was nowhere to be found on his list). No, the fear that bubbled up your throat was purely at the idea that after all of this Bucky might realize that making such an extensive list may have been wasted on you. You weren’t boring, but you sedentary life had created a barrier between you and uninhibited fun. All those years at grad school where you buckled down to work on your degree had muffled that ability have fun.

But you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to know about the store, and how it came to be. There were other things—other things that made your cheeks redden and mouth water—that you wanted to know as well, but those would be better kept to yourself.

Finally, after much quiet thought, you nodded at him.

“We did have a deal.” You waved the list in the air. “So what are we doing first?”

He smiled widened, and you lost your breath when he moved to pat your thigh with a metallic hand. “Attagirl, Reader.”

#( bucky barnes. )#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bookstore au #mcu fanfiction

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floral-force · 3 years ago

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Knight in Beskar Armor: Chapter 2

The Hunt

words: 1.3k+

series masterlist | read on ao3

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That night was incredibly restless. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get rid of the feeling the Mandalorian’s penetrating gaze caused. Was it terror? Intrigue? Or—Maker forbid—was it some sick form of…attraction? The thought made you shudder. But, as you lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling, you found yourself leaning more towards intrigue. Maybe a part of you liked that he stared you down like a starved reek does its prey; you’d be lying to yourself if you denied it.

You felt a pang in your core that spread down, down, down. You blushed, mad at yourself for allowing a fucking bounty hunter—and a masked one, at that—to make you aroused. You refused to give in to the Mandalorian’s poison. After tossing and turning, you decided to try your last resort to rid yourself of the poison: taking a walk through the garden. You were only in a modest and thin nightgown, so you threw your cloak over your shoulders and stepped into a pair of comfortable slippers.

As you crept through the palace halls, you tried to quell your new anxiety by focusing on where the palace guards were normally stationed. At this hour, they’d be on the outside of the palace, so you reasoned that the garden should be clear of any knights. You could only hear your breathing and the tap tap tap of your slippers on the palace’s marble floors. You reached the door to the pavilion, and grimaced when you opened it slowly, only for it to creak just a little too loud for your liking. Cold air met your skin when you finally stepped outside and slowly closed the door. As you walked towards the garden, you sighed in relief. You could relax now.

You let your feet carry you as your mind wandered. The long day spent in the throne room wore you out more than you realized. Listening to your citizens pleas for help was a different kind of challenge; it took all your strength to not show emotion on your face, just like you were taught. Your empathy and emotional nature are considered weaknesses, and you wore a mask of stoicism out of necessity.

Your mask had almost fallen in the late morning, however. A young mother, her eyes dull and tired, stumbled into the throne room. She was obviously famished and exhausted; she must have journeyed from across the planet just to have a short audience with your father. Her simple gray dress was tattered, her shoes worn with holes, and the scarf that loosely covered her head was dirty.

She had dropped to her knees, and then sobbed, “Please, Your Majesty! It’s my baby, my only daughter! She’s fatally ill, she doesn’t have much longer!” Tears fell down her dirty cheeks, her hands clasped at her chest. “W-We already l-lost h-her father…I-I can’t l-lose her t-too.”

The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a wail, the sob of somebody freshly wounded. The raw emotion almost sent you over the edge, but you were able to somehow shove it down just before the dam broke.

Your father gave her enough credits to buy medicine and food, and she was sobbing as she left the throne room, thanking the King profusely. You noticed your father had given her more credits than another mother who had come in an hour or so before asking for help for her ailing son. Maybe your father felt a connection to this woman since she had a daughter; maybe he did have a heart.

While you were reflecting, your feet had carried you to the garden’s center pavilion, the place where you had encountered the Mandalorian for the first time. A chill went up your spine, so you decided to cross the pavilion—to the side he had been on—and walk through the path lined with willow trees and bushes dotted with blue flowers. It felt ethereal under the starlight, like you truly were in paradise.

There was a clearing off to your left, so you decided to lay down in the grass and just look up at the vast expanse above you, Naboo’s three moons accenting the beauty of the night sky.

“It doesn’t seem safe for you to walk by yourself this late at night,” a familiar voice said.

You sat straight up, and you felt your heart begin to race. The Mandalorian stepped out of the shadow of a willow tree to your right, and you would have screamed if you weren’t terrified about what he would do if you did.

“W-What are you doing here, Mandalorian?” you spat. Shit. Your nervous stutter ruined your confident façade.

“Same as you,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Thinking.”

You lifted your chin and raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about what? About how many credits my father will give you for the next person you slaughter?”

He took a few steps in your direction, and you fought your automatic response to get away from the Mandalorian. He seemed to be…assessing you. Once again, you felt like prey. He took another step, and you flinched.

“And what if I am?”

You gulped, trying to suppress the butterflies in your core. “I’d call you…greedy. A man without honor.”

Your bold statement obviously struck some sort of nerve with him, and he moved quickly towards you getting down on one knee, meeting your eyes with his visor and inspecting you. You were his next bounty. His unlucky prey. His easy kill.

He said your name, and you snarled, “You’d do well to address me by my title, Mandalorian.”

He leaned in closer to you, his helmet nearly touching your forehead. You maintained your venomous mask, trying your best not to let your terror control you.

“Well, Princess,” his modulated voice carried sarcasm, and he continued, “You’d do well to remember just who you’re taunting.”

Taunting? If anyone had the upper hand, it was the skilled and stealthy bounty hunter. You could barely shoot a blaster. You felt the butterflies spread deeper and lower, and the blush appearing on your cheeks betrayed the façade you were barely managing to maintain. He was toying with you, and for some embarrassing reason, you didn’t mind. Your heart raced when he gave you an obvious once-over, scanning from your feet to your forehead. You jumped when he rested a hand on your knee.

He softly chuckled. “So easily startled. Are you scared, Princess?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You remembered Nelly’s words from the morning: All that is soon to come, you will handle with grace. Maybe this exact moment would require an exit that wasn’t as graceful as it was quick, but you felt your resolve grow.

You glared at the Mandalorian and swiftly rose to your feet, nearly jumping back from him. “How dare you, Mandalorian.” You took another step backward when he stood up. “The nerve, the audacity, the arrogance—”

“You like it.” He quipped, cutting you off and leaving your eyes wide.

You looked him up and down. He was even more imposing at a closer distance. That twisted curiosity filled your head again and you felt the wetness between your legs grow; Maker, your entire body was betraying you. But maybe, it was just reflecting how you truly felt. Maybe your refusal and denial only intensified your body and mind’s responses.

Instead of responding, you sprinted back through the path you took, not caring that the door into the palace creaked when you hurriedly opened and closed it. Terrified that the Mandalorian would continue his hunt, you dashed to your chamber, locking the door, windows, and the balcony doors as well. You threw off your cape and kicked your slippers off your feet. You even took off your nightgown, fetching a new one from the boudoir. It was only when you were finally sitting on the edge of your bed that the adrenaline caught up with you, your heart racing and your muscles aching.

That night, you dreamt of a reek charging you, its mouth open and its skin a deep red.

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#mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian fanfic #mando x you #mando x y/n #mando x reader #mando fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #slow burn mando

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