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kaeyasaki · 4 years ago

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— ❝ HOUSE RULES ❞

miya atsumu x f!reader

after coming back home from an overseas trip, atsumu comes back home to discover that his pretty little wife seems to have let a few certain rules slip, it’s a good thing he’s more than happy to help her revise them. — wc; 4K

thank you so so much @tsumue for beta reading, you helped so much fr hottie <3

dt; @7tsumurai i told you i’d get out a fic im happy with for you when i had more time and here it is, i love you so very much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me, you’re a real life saver and i wouldn’t want anyone other than you as my hot milf mommy <3

warnings; nsfw, unprotected sex, dumbification, rough sex, degradation, slapping, misogynistic behaviour + overstimulation bye i really said i didn’t have it in me

slotting his house key into the lock, atsumu had a content smile gracing his face as the next scene he assumed to be ahead of him was already playing out in his head.

you in a pretty dress he had so graciously bought and maybe even one of those cute frilly aprons he’d insisted upon gifting you. you would drop your cooking utensil immediately upon his arrival and rush over to him to take care of his jacket and bags while chanting about how desperately you missed your dear husband while he was away. atsumu would then shower you with the attention you had been missing out on and he’d have his darling little wife sit on his lap mindlessly chattering about how much she needed him.

atsumu was sure this was what was going to play out before him as soon as he opened the door.

so why the fuck had he opened the door to see otherwise?

his eyes twitched with irritation slightly at the sight of you in sweats on the couch lazily scrolling through your phone, but he refused to throw a fit immediately. he was kind enough to allow you the chance to explain yourself, afterall, he was adamant he was a good husband to you. the best husband to you.

“baby.” his voice rang clearly through the room as your head perked up at the sound of his voice. immediately you smiled upon seeing him as you hopped off the couch and dropped your phone to wander over to him. while you offered atsumu a warm smile, it didn’t seem to be reciprocated as a small but familiar glint in his eye told you enough to know something was off.

“i missed you.” you tried to shake that look from him as you wrapped your arms around his slim torso and inhaled the scent you’d found yourself missing over the week. “yeah?” he questioned as you looked up to meet his still piercing eyes. “of course.” you sighed before burying your face back into his chest for a moment.

for just a second, atsumu forgot why he was even mad. did he even have a right to be mad? he had a nice house, a job he loved and most importantly, the most perfect little wife. but then it all came back to him and the irritation stayed present as he stared down at you wrapped around his body.

the perfect little wife should have her husband’s dinner cooking and ready to be served upon his arrival. the perfect little wife should be dressed appropriately according to her husband's personal preferences which in atsumu’s case, were the dainty little outfits he was constantly having you try on and strut around the house in. the perfect little wife should respond appropriately whilst talking to her husband which for atsumu meant he’d prefer you at least pretend to be a little more mindlessly excited about seeing him again.

maybe you weren’t his perfect little wife anymore, but he could only blame himself. you were just too stupid to think for yourself, how could atsumu blame you for forgetting the rules he has in place if he hadn’t been around to remind you of them this past week? no matter, he’d just have to remind you as many times as it took to get these demands through to that pretty head of yours.

“i think someone’s forgotten a few things since i left.” atsumu stated flatly as you pulled away from him, eyes desperately looking up at him pleading to know where you had fucked up.

“i have?” you questioned, hands tugging at the hem of his jacket a little. you looked down refusing to continue looking at the disappointed expression of the man you loved the most knowing you had caused him to be upset.

atsumu smiled slightly as you slowly began to fall back into your submissive ways as he brought his hand down to hook his fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at him. his eyes were a little softer than before as thoughts of your kind and wonderful husband flooded your senses once more. you felt so terrible upsetting him as soon as he had come home. this was the man who insisted upon giving you anything and everything you ever asked for on a silver platter. he spoiled you to no ends and always pampered you to the point where it was clear you were his brat.

desperately wanting to make up for your out of line behaviour, you pulled the jacket off of atsumu and took his bags from his hand as he hummed in approval. the slightest grain of praise sent your head into turmoil as only thoughts of atsumu were permitted to dance around in there. smiling at him, you turned towards the direction of your bedroom before you were stopped by atsumu’s voice.

“and when you come back, i want to see ya dressed how you know yer meant to be.” you gave him a quick nod as you hurried to your shared bedroom to drop his things and throw on an outfit you knew would be approving of him.

carefully scanning through your choice, you finally decided on wearing a cute little cami mini dress atsumu had bought you a few months back. the soft material stopped at your mid thigh as the short spaghetti straps held the dress up your body as the material tugged around you in all the right places. determined to show atsumu you were extra sorry, you grabbed a delicate apron he had bought you a few weeks beforehand and it was one you were yet to wear. the dainty frills and clean material were tied around your waist as you stared at your reflection back in the mirror.

you had missed atsumu, really, but you had missed this routine more and you were grateful your husband was kind enough to keep you in check whenever you slipped up rather than blow up over it.

you really were a lucky wife.

satisfied with your appearance, you pattered down the stairs to find atsumu leaning against the kitchen counter scanning over the meal you had been cooking prior to his return left cold on the stove. noticing your presence, atsumu smiled at your outfit as he open his arms for you to fall into. “at least you got one thing right.” he sighed as you nodded noting he was referring to the meal you had been preparing just thirty minutes before he had stepped through the door.

pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, atsumu pulled away before tapping your inner thigh making you jolt slightly. “well, get to it, i’ve had a long journey and i’m starvin’.” he sighed, smile still slightly evident on his face.

you nodded and stood over the stove before turning it on. the cooking process was simple, it was practically just a matter of heating the food up as atsumu never required you to do any actual heavy cooking. he’d never dare have you do anything that could potentially callous or wear down your soft hands that he loved having you run all over his body. he only ever put you to a little more work when it came to taking care of certain things. housework and cooking were mundane things he liked to let you get off with lightly. preserving your energy to have you selfishly take care of his personal needs.

two minutes went by before you felt a looming presence behind you. instinctively, you stepped back slightly allowed atsumu to wrap his arms around your waist and press his body up against yours from behind. thumbs traced small circles over the sides of your waist as you tried to keep your focus on the food on the stove careful not to burn it. not that atsumu would particularly care if you did, ordering in was always an option, but he’d always let you have a try and providing for him beforehand.

your head was going light as your husband's hot breath fanned right against your ear as you struggled to keep your focus on the stove. “i’m disappointed.” atsumu sighed lowly sending shivers through your body as he leaned in closer. “i thought i’d taught ya well enough to be able to remember how things work around here.”

your heart tugged at the degrading tone he was using whether it was intentional or not before atsumu continued. “it’s a shame really, i could’ve rewarded ya for being away from me for so long, but now it looks like i’m gonna have to use that time to remind you of a few lessons.” you nodded curtly at the light scolding as your husband's hand dipped between your inner thigh grazing over the pretty panties you found to be increasingly annoying.

thumb tracing the hem of the material, he continued to sigh and mutter small disapprovals of your previous behaviour, but none of the derogatory terms educating nor belittling you, but rather exciting you instead.

you could only hum and nod in agreement at atsumu’s words as the more you gave in, the more he did too. with each acceptance of scolding, your husband would reward you by pressing his fingers a little harsher through your already soaking panties.

“stupid girl,” he muttered up against your ear as your breathing grew slightly ragged. “i thought i taught ya to know better by now.”

his words only worked you up more as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, allowing his teeth to nip at your hot skin. now focusing his attention on your neck, atsumu sucked harshly making sure to leave bruises littered across where he had access to making sure to rebrand you as his own. “tsumu…” you whined as his fingers continued dragging along the soft silk material. “just take them off already.” you whimpered before your husband bit a little harsher causing you to yelp.

“first i come home to ya looking less than presentable and now yer telling me what to do?” your heart hammered at his dark tone as he pulled away momentarily. “baby,” he shook his head. “how could ya give me instructions when ya can’t even follow simple ones yerself.” he sighed as you whispered a quick apology.

his hand pulled away from between your thighs to instead grip the sides of your hips. rough hands running up and down your sides under the pretty dress you’d chosen for him. “let me show ya why i’m in charge around here yeah?” his hips were pressed up behind yours forcing you to feel how pent up he was too. “please.” you whimpered mindlessly grinding against the growing tent in his sweats.

atsumu chuckled before nipping the shell of your ear halting your instinctive movements. “good girl for asking me so nicely.”

with atsumu assaulting your neck once more and further adding to the sensation by pressing up against your clothed clit, all thoughts that weren’t regarding miya atsumu had disintegrated and now your only motive was to make your loving husband proud and take what he was willing to give you.

slowly, your movements grew to become more frantic as his hands stayed firm on your hips as he steadied himself behind you. “oh angel, ya really missed me huh?” he teased while slowing you to rut against him, clothes separating the two of you much to your frustration. you chanted small “uh huh”s as atsumu smiled upon your mindless behaviour. “it’s okay baby, let yer man take care of ya, i’ll make sure ya never forget these little rules again.” you mewled out his name which only delighted him further.

you were just too easy.

“so independent,” he whispered, fingers finally hooking under the hem of the silky undergarments before slowly pulling them down to pool at your ankles below. “it’s my fault, yer too stupid to be left alone for more than a few days right?” you nodded completely missing whatever you were agreeing to as atsumu continued to trace dreadfully slow patterns under your dress.

“it’s okay baby, i know you didn’t mean to make me angry did ya? it’s not yer fault ya can’t think for yerself.” atsumu continued to degrade you to nothing more than a brainless doll as you gave in to his desires completely all while trying to give the heating food on the stove even the slightest grain of attention you could.

fingers pressing onto your aching clit, your husband began to draw rough patterns onto the sensitive area, making sure to get a good feel of just how aroused he made you feel. humming in approval at the short breathy moans that left your throat, atsumu continued to tease you as you melted back into his chest keeping you in place against him and the stove.

“that’s it, good girl.” he praised the moment your legs parted a little wider for him to access. “feel good?” he asked despite the fact he already knew what your answer was. “yes atsumu, feels so good.” you blabbered as he selfishly stole all your focus onto him.

pushing his middle finger inside of you, atsumu’s eyes lit up at the feeling of how tight and wet you were around his finger. while your behavior wasn’t always perfect, your pussy was. he’d always tell you how you were made for him, your mind, body and soul all rightfully his as you always gave into him, atsumu’s grin widened when he felt you clench around his digits, your body already well accustomed to him. just how he’d trained it to be.

it wasn’t long before your husband was kind enough to give you his index finger, thumb ghosting over your clit after every few movements. relishing in the pretty sounds he was drawing out of you, atsumu picked up the pace knowing fully well you were practically teetering on the edge by now. your stuttered breathing, whimpers and pleading of his name were enough of a giveaway to know you were desperate for release, but the setter wasn’t about to give in.

while he had forgiven you a while ago, atsumu had decided that perhaps a little more punishment would really help you remember not to let him come home to anything less than what he expects again as he pulled his fingers out of you immediately after feeling you tense up.

“atsu- why?” you sobbed out frustrated and upset that he’d taken your high away from you. you were the most worked up you’d ever felt at this point and atsumu knew that too hence why he decided that now was the time to have a little bit of fun on his side with you. “i’m still mad ya know.” he cooed mockingly from behind you. “or did ya forget?”

“no, no, i didn’t i’m sorry.” you cried out, tears trickling out your eyes as atsumu stared up at your reflection against the glass panels up against the stove. part of him wished he waited, just to get you in a position where you were facing him, but for now he’d make do as his dick throbbed at the sight of your reflection. upset and ashamed, you stared back into your own reflection meeting your husband's wicked gaze.

“of course ya are.” atsumu hummed, hands temporarily pulling away from you to reach down to his own sweats. “and yer gonna show me how sorry ya are, right?”. pulling down both his sweats and boxers in one go, your breath hitch despite the fact you weren’t facing the terrifying thing. you didn’t need to be looking at it to know what it was capable of. atsumu’s cock was nothing new to you, but everytime you were met with it, atsumu proved himself to be just as relentless as the first time you’d experienced it.

both long and girthy, you were certain miya atsumu was the biggest you’d ever seen and taken, with thick veins running up and down the shaft adding further to the arousal he caused you.

“tsumu…” you breathed out as he pressed the swollen head in line with your entrance. “i’ve already gotten ya ready, don’t be greedy.” he scolded before you could even speak. despite his harsh words though, atsumu was still considerate enough to try and take some of the focus away from any potential pain with his fingers as he let his hand dip back down between your thighs fingers circling your clit gathering any slick he could before smothering it over your pretty pussy which at this point was clenching around nothing much to your demise.

rubbing the head up and down your clit to make access a little easier on the both of you, atsumu pushed into you stretching out your walls as you chanted his name like a mantra. his fingers were a lot different from his cock, as tears were dripping down your face in a mixture of both pleasure and pain all while he allowed you a moment to adjust to the dramatic size difference you had just gotten used to.

lifting the hem of your dress up, atsumu’s mood was left content at seeing your tight pussy struggle to take him all in. he was a proud man, proud of you and proud of his capability to get you like this.

pulling his hand away from your clit now that he’d pushed inside of you, the setter took both his hands to firmly grip on your hips as he began to start thrusting at a slow but steady pace to get you going.

while you thought atsumu was mad at you, he missed you more than anything and while he’d love to pull you away from the hot stove and fuck you over the clean marble counter, he was determined to enjoy the feeling of slowing making you his all over again for now. he’d have all the time in the world to roughly punish you should he ever choose to, but in this moment, he was content with what he was giving you and he was certain his pretty little wife had learnt her lesson.

finally getting you accustomed to the size of him, your cries turned into soft moans as the tip of his cock hit against your cervix sending your head to go blank and your actions to become completely instinctive. the only thing bringing you out of this mindless trance is the feeling of a hard slap to your ass as your head jolts up and you cry out.

“so, are ya really sorry for upsettin’ me?” atsumu challenges, speed continually picking up as your head scrambles to string together some form of answer. you know better than to keep him waiting as you open your mouth to speak, but before you can even try to get any words out, another slap lands just as harshly as the last, the pain mixing in with the pleasure throwing your make do answer out the window as you struggle to reply properly.

“yes tsumu, so sorry- never again.” you weep as the dried tears are replaced with a fresh wave dripping down your face much to atsumu’s satisfaction. “never what again?” he pries further all while slamming his dick in and out of your dripping cunt. “never - shit- never break your rules again.” you plead doing your best to show him just how sorry you really were.

sinking into you completely, atsumu really starts fucking you with the head of his cock hitting your cerfix repeatedly, the smacking of his balls slapping up against your ass mixed with the sound of your dripping hole being used as if it were a fleshlight echo through the room for you to hear.

“tsumu, ‘m sorry, m’ sorry, so- please!” you sob reaching the edge of your high once more feeling desperate for allowance from him this time. “not yet.” he hisses out as his thrust shows no relentlessness. all while you’re trying to hold yourself together, you feel the heat of the stove bring you back to some sort of sense as you make quick work of turning the gas completely off paying no mind to what the state of the food was inside of the pan.

“look up.” he demands, one hand straying from your hips to hook onto your jaw as he forces you to face the glass reflection of yourself being fucked stupid by him. “stupid slut.” he spits out pistoning his cock in and out of you at an unbearable pace. “my stupid slut.” he hisses slamming in and out of you forcing cries and wails out of your throat.

“not a slut.” you whimper out now refusing to take his degrading any longer. “‘m your wife tsumu, your good wife.” you insist, desperate for any form of praise from him. your husband sneers as he holds your jaw in place forcing you to stare at your fucked out expression.

“i don’t want a good wife, i want a perfect wife, ya got that?” he demands squeezing your hip as his own hips move faster than before. tears still streaming down your face from the immense pleasure and frustrations, you nod before mindlessly blabbering out your pleads.

“your perfect wife yeah, wanna be your perfect wife all yours.” you beg hurriedly in fear of him depriving you of your second orgasm of the night.

he liked the sound of that. knowing he had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger pleased him. your words only affirming this satisfaction as you gave yourself into him completely allowing him the rights of making you his and his alone. it’s like he always told you; you were made for him.

“go on then,” he grunts. “cum for me, pretty girl. now.”

he doesn't have to tell you twice as his hard thrusts pay no mercy to your cute little pussy, you can only think about cumming around him at this very second. the tight coil in your stomach finally allowed to break, your walls spasm around his cock as he continues to pound inside of you all while youre granted the pleasure of finally releasing. the feeling making you see stars, atsumu continues to use your hole as he pleases his only motive now chasing after his own high.

tightening his grip on your hips, he pressed his lips up close to your ear, once again nipping lightly at the shell. “gonna be my perfect wife yeah? yer taking it all for me got it?” he growls as you nod quickly, head still spinning.

“yeah, yeah tsumu, your perfect wife, all yours.” you beg, the overstimulation preventing you from thinking straight.

“that's right, mine, mine, mine.” he finishes forcing his load into your tight hole, his hot cum filling your womb completely. the feeling of him inside of you causes your tongue to drop out as both tears and spit dribble down your face as he continues to ram in and out of you through his orgasm.

finishing, atsumu grunts and pulls out of you, eyes bright seeing your abused hole leak out with his cum. seeing you completely fucked out by him was one of his favourite sights and he was certain he’d never get enough of it.

regardless of his rules and words, atsumu adored you no matter what. but to see you completely ruined by him and him alone, it only made him fall harder knowing you were willing to always take whatever he desired to give you. it made him proud to know he’d cuffed someone so willing for him.

as you catch your breath, atsumu looks over your shoulder that the burnt food you had yet to notice. meeting his gaze, you look down at the contents in the pan and internally cuss yourself out at the mistake. so sure you were getting another scolding, you jolt at the feeling of atsumu’s hand resting on your shoulder.

“yer too cute for cooking anyway.” he mutters allowing you to breathe out relieved. stepping away from you and pulling up his boxers and sweats, atsumu allows himself one more glance at the sight of his cum dribbling down your thighs from behind. smiling to himself, he nods over at the direction of the house phone before heading towards the couch.

“show me you’ve learnt ya lesson and ring up for dinner yeah? maybe then i’ll give ya the reward i was talking about earlier.”

he smiles at the sight of you nodding, your wobbly legs making their way over to the landline to ring up for whatever takeaway came to mind, your husbands load still dripping between your thighs.

miya atsumu was adamant he was a lucky man. he had a nice house, a job he loved and now he was now certain he had the most perfect little wife.

#i’m at work rn but hopefully this posts :0 #this is so gross wow i’m sorry </3 #housewife agenda going strong </3 #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #tw degradation #tw slapping #tw overstimulation #tw dumbification #tw unprotected sex #tw misogyny

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sleepyowlwrites · 3 years ago

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practice makes practiced and here's how it's going

sponsored by @westywrites who asked for comparisons of writing then and writing now. so here's some of mine.

Sleepy in 2011: (29 Days of October)

Cool mist on my face awakened me the next morning. I rubbed my eyes, and shifted on the bed of blankets while peering round the campsite. Ashes from last night's fire sat scattered on the ground, camouflaged in the grey dirt. Sitting up, I looked around for the others. All the rangers had gone, only Morren remained. Perching on a boulder, he regarded me with dark, piercing brown eyes.

"Morning." He got up to rummage in one of our packs. I rolled up my bedding while he pulled out bread and dried apples. "We'll eat on the way. I want to be gone from here before the sun shows."

Strapping my bundles together, I hoisted them onto my back before clipping my sword on again. "Does the sun show itself here? I thought clouds always covered the sky."

Morren gave me a lazy half-grin. "It comes up and goes down just the same as at home, princess, it just doesn't shine through those clouds. But there is a difference between night and day." His eyes rolled slightly in his head, and I wasn't sure if whether I wanted to laugh or smack him. I opted for a breathy chuckle, keeping my eyes down so he wouldn't see the sadness in them.

I accepted the food Morren held out to me and we started to walk. In front of us, dusty fog seemed to go on continuously, but my ranger stepped with purpose and sure feet, so I knew we headed in the right direction. Soon I would learn to distinguish south from north, morning from afternoon. Morren would teach me. I just hoped he wouldn't look so smug the whole time.

even back then I was aware this came off really stiff and a bit awkward. there's a little more that prefaces this part, but I didn't want this post to be too long. back then, I used to write almost entirely in first person, partially because it was easy and partially because I was using a workbook that taught it. I think you can really tell I was trying to use differently styled sentences/sentence openers and my well-developed vocabulary. I do that a little more casually now, and really don't focus on sentence variations in first drafts.

Sleepy in 2022: (Spirits and Summoners)

“You’re staying at The Copper Kettle?” Zan approached the inn warily.

Beside him, Shae nodded, unperturbed. “They lowered my room cost because I helped them contract a likal for their stores. It was entirely unexpected. I’d never done a likal summoning and was going completely off of Shraders’ and just hoping for the best. And they have a small yard. I’ve been practicing there.”

Zan placed a hand on Shae’s arm to get her to stop talking. “This place is not safe.”

“Of course it’s not safe,” Shae said irritably, tugging her arm back. “We’re right at the border of Claybeak territory. Why do you think I don’t do bounties at night? I’m not stupid.”

That was up for debate, but Zan held his tongue on the subject for the moment. “And what about your special friend? They haven’t tried anything?”

Shae actually laughed, if in a bit of a stilted way. She beckoned him to follow her around the side of the inn, through a broken gate. “Grimes doesn’t have ill intentions for any of the inn guests, as near as I can figure. She isn’t always around, either. I don’t think she needs sleep, being dead and all.”

Zan nearly tripped on nothing. “What do you mean, ‘being dead’? She’s not a possessed corpse, is she?”

“No.” Shae had a funny kind of smirk that Zan didn’t like very much. “More of a possessed skeleton? Except she’s not a spirit. I think.”

“You think?” Zan was starting to wish Wryn was here, just in case anything wrong happened. What if this not-possessed skeleton wanted to take advantage of Shae? She always seemed to forget that she was connected to a very powerful family and in a city like Sinderport, where everyone talked to everyone and secrets were rarer than clean streets, there was always a high chance of a stranger trying to screw over who they could. Shae was an easy target.

Zan jumped and nearly fell over when out of nowhere, something fell from the roof and landed in front of the two of them. He immediately placed himself in front of Shae, who sighed in frustration and elbowed him.

“Calm down,” she muttered. And then, louder, “This is Grimes.”

The something reconfigured its shape, bones aligning and smoky mass solidifying into a somewhat recognizable form underneath the long coat it wore without flesh to support it. Dark red flames like tips of candles served as eyes in the skull that stared back at him. And Zan was staring. Indeed, this was some sort of possessed skeleton, a kind of creature he’d never heard of and wouldn’t have dreamed up if he’d wanted to.

here we are! I'm still writing fantasy, even though I took a several year break from it. it's my favorite, after all. I'll always come back to magic. I write 98% of the time in third person, and 50% in past tense, 50% in present. I focus on character over plot, and plot over setting, and setting over timeline and structure. I don't often mention how characters' look, I sometimes mention where we are and mostly don't, and I write dialogue more than anything else. I'm much less worried about the quality of my writing on first passes, I don't mind sharing unedited work, and I know I'm a good writer. I know I get better with each story, each random paragraph of metaphors, each idea and each out of context scene.

I know who I'm writing for - me. I know when to drop something and when to pick it back up. I've been practicing writing for years, and I am very well-practiced. I'm gonna keep at it, because I love it, and the horizon goes on.

thanks for reading!

#sleepy writing #w: sleepy stash #writeblr community #writeblr event #sleepy stuff #wip: summon story

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entishramblings · 5 years ago

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The Rings and Jewels Upon Your Ears - Sensitive Elf Ears [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! here is another one shot about our favorite blue eyed elf that I wrote while procrastinating my fanfic because writers block!!! So enjoy this short fic about sensitive elf ears bc I am, and always will be, a slut for elf ear fics oop. Also if you do not have earrings I’m so sorry this was just an idea!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: Girl falls into middle earth and the elves of Mirkwood are confused about her earrings; most find it distasteful, but Legolas is fascinated!

Word Count: 2,246

Warnings: heated kissing (nothing further)

*all elvish was looked up online from numerous sources so please dont hate if it is not entirely correct*

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N)‘s stomach dropped and queasiness overtook her as she plummeted through the cold air. She tried to grasp onto something—anything—to stop her from plunging to her death. But no matter how much she reached outward, the only thing she held in her hands was dewy water and moisture—for the only thing to grasp was dark gloomy clouds. (Y/N)’s limps felt limp as freezing rain collected on her skin, soaking her to the bone; Her wet hair whipped around her face like an over-sized mop in a miniature tornado, inviting the thick strands to get stuck in her mouth. Her whole body was numb from the cutting cold as she spun downward. To make matter worse, she was 89% sure she had lost a shoe as her one foot felt significantly colder.

(Y/N) didn’t think the circumstance could possibly get more terrifying as her heart was already struck with paralyzing fear; but alas, it was just her luck. A brilliant bolt of light shuttered from the sky, zapping through the air right next to her. She was sure she could feel the electricity rushing through her blood as the thin hairs on her arm stood up.

This was it. This was how she would go out.

Suddenly, pain erupted up her spine. She felt her nerves become overloaded with intense agony that extended through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut.

It was over. She had hit the ground. She had met her end.

But when (Y/N) opened her eyes, she saw grey stone high above her.

She groaned loudly as she pulled her body into sitting position. Her back ached slightly but the pain was not anywhere near as severe as her shock. How was she not dead....or was this death? Her curious eyes wandered in examination of her surroundings. She was in a large dark corridor that had big archways and extravagantly carved doors scattered amongst the sides in an orderly pattern. The air felt eerie and sinister as she stumbled over the abandoned, smooth, stone floor. Anxiety crept into her soul.

So this what was the invitation of death felt like.

Alone, soaking wet, missing a shoe, and shrouded with fear.

How lovely.

(Y/N) was pulled from her thoughts as chaos surrounded her and grabbed her upper arms. This chaos was tall, long haired, strikingly gorgeous, and many in number. These strange people encircled her and bound her wrists while hollering words in a language she didn’t understand.

Her head spun, what was going on? was this the afterlife? if so, it was quite weird.....

She was in a daze as they dragged her through hallway after hallway; taking so many twists and turns she would never be able to find her way back—not that going to that spot again would help anything. Where ever she was, there was no escape.

(Y/N) was brought forth in front of a long blonde haired man highly decorated in silk and jewels. He sat upon a winding wooden throne and an elaborate crown made of branches and berries rested upon his head. In one word, any individual would describe him as: regal.

The peculiar people pushed her to her knees as he spoke. Words flowed from his mouth with a smooth, deep, and intimidating tone; but those words meant nothing to her as they were completely foreign to her brain.

Silence feel between them as they looked upon her, waiting. Waiting for what?!

He spoke again, anger and irritation tumbling from his lips.

Suddenly her head was grasped by warm hands and roughly tilted upwards and to the side. Her eyes met those of another that were strikingly blue. She gasped, from the shock and the slight pain that radiated through her neck. Another hand that did not belong to the man above her pulled her locks from her face. They all looked at her ear intently. Weird kink?

The one who freed her ear from the sopping mess she called hair spoke, “Est a- an elleth, ach nad othren est lheweg (she is a female elf, but something strange is upon her ear).”

Whatever he said, it was the cause of her head being viciously tilted once again.

The King hollered at her a second time, his displeasure and irritability obvious.

(Y/N) attempted to pull from the blue eyed man’s grasp but failed exceptionally, for his grip was taught.

More harsh words were thrown at her and the hold upon her squeezed tighter—initiating pain.

A slight whimper escaped her lips. The blue eyes above her seemed regretful and their owner drew his eyebrows together in concern and confusion.

(Y/N) looked up at him, her gaze meeting his.

“Please...” she whispered ever so quietly; she wasn’t even sure he could have heard her.

Instantaneously, his hands fell from their hold and the blue pooled with intrigued perplexity.

He spoke, his voice was powerful and commanding. “She speaks the common tongue.”

She felt the eyes of those around her pouring into her soul with confusion and the yearn for answers.

“What is the point of and elf who doesn’t understand Sindarian?” The regal figure spoke.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “An elf?”

The King rolled his eyes, “Yes that is what you are, is it not? The tips of ears do not lie. Now speak quickly who sent you and how did you gain entrance?”

She looked about her dumbfounded as her gaze searched all the individuals ears—all pointy. Elves? When it dawned on her that she hadn’t answered the question, she spoke, “Sent me? I don’t even know where I am!”

Silence fell between every individual in the room and the tension lingered; she felt the agitation seeped into her skin as a shiver rippled through her body.

The King tilted his head slightly as he examined her. Only then did she realize just how unusual they really were. Their clothing was bizarre—old fashioned—and they were loaded with weapons; but no guns were in sight, they held bows in their callused hands and knives were strapped upon them. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought she fell into the past. But that would be impossible. However, one thing was certain: she couldn’t be dead.

“What did you do to your ear?” The King questioned.

She frowned, suddenly remembering her immediate reality, “You—you mean my earrings?”

“Yes, the rings and jewels upon your ears.”

(Y/N) was taken aback. What a strange question. She had a large amount of earrings; at least 8 or 9 on each side, placed differently on each ear. Did he not know of piercings? How big was the rock that these people lived under?

She chose her words carefully, by the way he spoke she figured he would not understand her normal slang. “They are for decoration—for beauty.”

He spoke again but his tone laced with disgust, “Why would you desecrate yourself in such a way?”

(Y/N) was filled with confusion. This was a normal custom where she was from. Quite rude for him to insult her in such a way.

When she offered no response the King turned to the man....or elf shall she say....that had held her taught. “Legolas, lock her in the dungeons.”

(Y/N) felt a lump in her throat. Dungeons....that could never be good.

The blonde elf pulled her up gently and led her away with other guards pursuing them closely. More winding halls and steep stairs became her only sight as she was ushered along.

......

The metal bars slammed in her face as she felt numb misery confine her soul. Was this to be her life now?

As the elves filtered out, one stayed behind. Legolas, she recalled his name. He was quite tall, but alas, they all were tall to (Y/N) for she had always been considered small. His face was proportional and structured as the shadows from the torches danced upon his form. His jaw line was sharp and defined while he stood before her with confidence. He definitely had a position of authority, she thought. Furthermore, His dark eyebrows were a contrast to his sleek blonde hair that was held back by three simple braids; but it did not look unfitting, rather it was quite suitable. His light pink lips were pulled into a line as his blue orbs gazed upon her. She could see him pondering the circumstances.

He spoke lightly, no animosity upon his tone. “You are not from here, are you?”

(Y/N) nodded. Her world felt so far away and the hopes of returning faded into the shadows as despair stretched across the corners of her mind.

......

Many months had past of (Y/N) living in a cell. Within this time, she had become quite friendly with Legolas—who she had found out was the son of the King. However, the blue eyed elf was nothing like his father. For starters, on the first night she arrived he brought her fresh clothing and a towel to dry her soaked self. Legolas was kind and patient. When she threw the fabrics back at him—screaming and hollering to be released—he did not lash out; she had a suspicion any other would. Looking back, (Y/N) realized that he must have suspected her entire world was turned upside down. I mean how often do you find out you had a species change and were transported to a different sphere of reality?

The Elven Prince came to visit her often and they would have long conversations. She told him of where she came from and he taught her of the new world she now lived in. He tutored her in the language of the elves—Sindarin—and spoke of their ways. They were creatures of intense, impressive, and impeccable skill who lived immortal lives. She could feel her senses heightening and improving as the day’s went on and her muscles began to strengthen. It took long for (Y/N) to wrap her head around her new reality; and how she became of it, she knew not.

It was evening when Legolas came to visit her once again. She smirked at him from behind the bars, “What do you have to bring me this time?”

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lip. He held up a large, dark green book and slipped it through the metal shafts. “The history of Middle Earth. Teach yourself wisely.”

She grinned, “Thank you, Legolas.”

He turned to leave for he had other duties that his father insisted upon, but he hesitated. Legolas rotated his body to look at (Y/N) once more. His gaze lingered upon her exposed ears as her hair was tied back in a tight braid.

He spoke softly, “Did it hurt?”

Her brows knitted together, “Did what hurt?”

“Your ears—the jewelry.”

She shook her head, “No not really? Why do you ask?”

He took a couple steps towards her and a slight chuckled escaped his mouth, “An elf’s ears are very....sensitive.”

She tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as he eliminated the space between himself and the bars.

“May I?”

(Y/N) took a step closer, so she too was against the thick metal rods. She could feel his hot breath upon her face as he looked down at her; She was sure he could hear her heart pounding for elves could pick up any sound—she could hear his. Legolas raised a hand through the bars and gently cupped one side of her face. He lightly touched the tip of her ear and trailed his finger down. (Y/N) gasped as the sensation shuttered throughout her entire being. She could see his blue eyes shift to her lips before locking back with her eyes once again. (Y/N) lifted her hand through the bars, her expression begging to commit the same action.

“(Y/N), you know not what you will do to me.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. She did not heed his warning one bit; she grazed her finger along the edge of his ear.

Without warning both his hands flew through the bars; one wrapping around her waist and the other clutching her face. He forcefully yanked her body into his and smashed his lips against hers, both their faces pressing against the cold metal. The taste of mint and honey melded in her mouth as their lips moved in a gently rhythm, dancing against each other. (Y/N) snaked her arms up his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath his tunic, until she wrapped them around his neck—tangling her hands in his soft hair. She felt a heat rise from her stomach to her chest as she hungrily moved her mouth with his. When Legolas’s teeth tugged on her bottom lip, nearly all her thoughts silenced and her desire for him grew. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance; they battled for dominance.

Suddenly, the warmth was torn from her. Legolas pulled his head back and turned his face from her, but his hands would not move from their grasp. (Y/N)’s swollen lips parted as doubt flooded her, had she done something wrong?

His voice was one of a growl, “Look what you do to me.” His breathing was heavy and his chest was rising and falling. He turned his attention back to her, “You allow me to divulge in my impulses.”

(Y/N) smirked, “Is that such a bad thing?”

Legolas leaned his forehead against hers and he gave her a lopsided grin, “Never.”

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missinghan · 4 years ago

Text

broken umbrella ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 1,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : a typical day in your life starts with having candies poured over your head and ends with breaking han jisung’s umbrella.

❖ note : I wanted to write smth dumb okay-

one.

Jisung gives his desk a harsh kick, one that does no good in releasing his inner storm, only to wince in pain later because he’s an idiot.

Classes have been somewhat less than boring these days, partially because his mind is occupied with thoughts of you half of the time and partially because…well, more thoughts of you. Oh wait, today is a little different than usual considering the fact that you did not give him a proper response.

To what?

Putting it simply, he woke up early this morning to go over his routine more thoroughly—styling his hair, making sure that his tie isn’t sloppy-looking, and spraying himself with his brother’s cologne. He doesn’t usually care for any one of those things until junior starts and you show up. Call him desperate, or delusional, or childish even but it truly felt like fate when you two first encountered each other.

“Yeah right, fate,” Hyunjin snickers loudly, swirling a strawberry-flavored lollipop inside his mouth. “You meant when you fell on your ass on the bus the other day and you accidentally grabbed her collar?”

Jisung feels his cheeks heat up thanks to his friend’s less than necessary comment. “Shut the fuck up, you’re just jealous.” It was great. Not only did he fall head over heels for you, but he also left a bad impression.

Back to the point. All of his hard work this morning is reduced to nothing because of the rain. His hair is messed up, his uniform looks sloppy, and his shoes are covered in mud from skipping through puddles. Not to mention, he showed up timely enough to be there when you opened your locker, having various candies and sweets poured down your head, scattered all over the hallway.

Yeji should have told him you didn’t like sweet things yesterday, damn it. Because he’s never seen you giving him that look before. The look that makes him believe you will make him experience torment and pain, begging for the mercy that never comes��make his life a living hell basically.

“How did your plan go, by the way?” His friend asks out of boredom.

“Fantastic,” he replies under his breath when everything is, in fact, not fantastic.

Hyunjin tilts his head. “Did she know?”

“Know what? That I’m in love with her? I mean I wasn’t trying to be subtle or anything-“

“No, did she know that it was gonna rain today?”

Shrugging, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in exhaustion; forty-five minutes periods should be illegal. “Why does that matter?”

“Hey, Han!”

Jisung turns his head to the voice and sees Felix sliding the door to his classroom open, uneven breaths as if he’s been running for his life while holding two umbrellas in his arms. He glances at his friend’s state with a grimace, head cocked to the side in confusion. Luckily, no one really spends recess in class except for loners like himself anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N didn’t bring an umbrella!” The freckled boy exclaims with excitement, only able to coax an amused hum from Hyunjin. “But you have an umbrella, and it’s still raining! Which means…?”

A comical silence falls upon the three of them. It takes Jisung approximately five taps of Hyunjin’s finger on the table to fully process his friend’s point. Realization lights up in his eyes like a candle but dies down with a pout on his face. “But she can just go with her friends?” he says with expressive hands, though a little disappointed.

“I’m not gonna half-ass it if I plan on helping you,” Felix gives the two umbrellas, a white one and a pink one, in his hands a slight jerk, looking oddly proud.

This time, Jisung catches on immediately; his eyes go wide in shock as though his friend has committed the greatest sin. “Yeji and Lia are so gonna kill you.”

two.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Lia asks while hopeless rummaging through her stuff. “I swear with my own eyes I saw myself putting one in my bag this morning.”

Yeji shakes her head in defeat, tugging at the straps of her backpack. “I was pretty sure I brought one too. I even used it to walk to the bus stop this morning! Someone must have taken it during recess,” she sighs, dreading the pouring rain and grey clouds.

It’s raining again. It’s only been raining today, the weather forecast did predict that it’s most likely going to last for a whole week too (not that you bothered checking). You don’t mind the rain, though. You like the fact that they make the world appear mistier, hazier like a fever dream.

What isn’t good about the rain is the fact that your parents won’t be too happy to see you come home looking like a wet rat. Or the fact that you’ll probably get a really bad cold, and that won’t be pretty during midterms week. Or the fact that most students are absolute idiots and didn’t bring their own umbrellas either. Everyone is shoving each other for space under the canopy at the main gate so the rain won’t soak their clothes.

You’re not having it. At all.

“Yeji, Lia. I’m going home,” you purse your lips together and take a breath.

Lia frowns at your particular solution. “Already? But you’re gonna get wet.”

“My house is a ten-minute walk away. Shouldn’t be too bad,” you say lowly in faint annoyance, eyes squinted from the discomfort of lack of space; these students have no manners whatsoever, you’re getting claustrophobic.

With a determined huff, you pull the zipper of your jacket up and throw the hood over your hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Shadow suddenly looms over the top of your head, warmth radiates to your clothed arm. In the corner of your eyes, a familiar face comes into view and forces a heavy exhale from your lips.

“Hey, do you wanna go with-“ Jisung pauses midway when you take off running, shattering his fantasy of living in a drama into bits without mercy. “Y/N! Wait up!”

three.

“Come here! Or you’ll get sick!”

“Why the hell do you care?”

“Y/N, stop being so stubborn! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“It’s none of your business.”

After walking down several blocks down the road, past nothing but empty plazas and mostly closed café, you even take an extra U-turn, going through a skeptical alley just so Jisung will get tired and stop following you. Your effort doesn’t not prevail so you give up eventually, deciding to take the proper turn to head home before it’s too late to prepare dinner.

The poor boy can feel the rain drizzle down his black umbrella before falling onto his windbreaker, soaking through the fabric to stain his senses with a chilling sensation. He has already calmed every racing thought that ceases to ease his erratic heartbeat but no matter how hard he tries, there isn’t one second where he isn’t thinking about your well-being.

“Hey,” he calls out; when you turn around, he’s closing his umbrella and tossing it to the ground, leaving it to graze the tip of your shoes. “Take it and go home. I won’t bother you anymore.”

You roll your eyes before picking it up, mercilessly letting it flop right in front of him. “I don’t need it.”

Jisung clicks his tongue in irritation, not caring that droplets are falling from his head and his skin is crawling from the cold. Somehow, he’s starting to become baffled for no reason. Perhaps it’s because of your nonchalance about the current situation; you shouldn’t be so apathetic when he’s genuinely worried sick for your health.

His eyes are heavy with rain droplets so he blinks them away before glaring at you slightly. “You need it more than I do. Would you please stop acting irrationally, take the umbrella and head home? The rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.” His leg jerks up to kick at the innocent object; still isn’t enough to relish the turmoil hurling his innards.

He brushes past you, shoving your shoulder a little while expecting you to finally accept his offer. To his dismay, you once again grab at the poor, poor umbrella, and throw it at his leg with more force this time. When it drops to the ground with a small thud, his heart pauses awkwardly in disappointment.

The sun is going down by the second but you can still see the faint outline of his scowl. “Go home, Jisung. It’s getting late,” you remark coldly, stuffing your freezing hands into your pocket.

With a loud groan, he marches back to where you two were originally standing, a curse word lingers on the tip of his tongue. But he manages to swallow it back down before gently tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. “Take the umbrella at least,” he voices softly, the crack more evident than anything at the end. “Look, I know I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since we first met. I just really like you and I care for you okay? Go home, Y/N.”

“Please.”

You look at him after moments, your once hateful eyes finally glinting with something else other than general distaste and annoyance. It only takes one glance of his tired eyes to pierce through your phlegmatic front, leaving your raw emotions out in the open. Before Jisung can say another word or take notice of the rare warmth creeping in your gaze, you take his hand in yours and pull him toward a nearby apartment complex to not wait out in the downpour any longer. By the time that you’ve released the grip, he’s still staring into the nothingness, eyes slightly wide in shock.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go home?” he blurts out finally after snapping out of it.

“This is my apartment complex. But I must have dropped my card somewhere. So I can’t go inside.”

A sigh. “Is anyone home right now?”

“My phone is dead.”

Jisung perks up and his hand fishes inside his pocket. “You can use-”

You inhale deeply, looking away. “Enough is enough, Jisung. Go home.”

“You broke my umbrella,” he mentions, blinking rapidly to bat the droplets away from his eyelashes. “I can’t go home like this.”

Few beats of silence later, a middle-aged woman dressed in a beige trench coat walks past the both of you, two high school students pathetically standing under the canopy like wet rats; she swipes her card against the security lock and the glass door pops open without much effort. Sparing you the last look, she’s probably thinking ‘kids these days’ before heading inside with a roll of her eyes.

Jisung hurriedly skips over to hold the door open for you, motions for you to walk in with his head. To his surprise, you comply but bring your steps to a halt to situate yourself in front of him. His lashes are wet and heavy; that’s when you realize how soaked you both are and how terribly cold the temperature it’s getting. Your hand reaches out to brush the raindrops away softly, shaking his heart to the core.

The silence is graceful in the wake of the moment, the rain in the background just makes everything that much more cinematic. However, Jisung isn’t in the right mind state to fanboy over the fact that his drama fantasy is one step closer to reality. He wishes to cling to this moment forever because he just can’t get enough. He can never.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you pull away calmly, thinking how cute he sort of looks when his cheeks are three shades redder. “And a new umbrella.”

His smile has never been brighter, you notice. Even when he’s out in the brutal cold and completely drenched from head to toe. And wait...have his eyes always been so pretty?

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spookyboywhump · 4 years ago

Text

Okokok this was. Out of nowhere but holy shit I had fun with it. Some Bad Timeline content y’all, 100% Wren bullying

CW: Pet whump, dehumanization, noncon kiss, noncon touching (nonsexual), knife whump, branding (kind of), nightmares, strangulation mention

***

Eli sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment, exhausted after a long day at work. He just wanted to go and collapse into bed, sleep until he had to get up and do it all again in the morning. He stepped inside and turned around to lock the door, but he froze in his tracks, his blood running cold when he heard a terribly familiar voice.

“Hello, Love.”

No no no no. There’s no fucking way. Not here.

He couldn’t force himself to turn around, but he could feel his presence behind him. He knew he was still at the door, he could hopefully get it open, run for help, but just as he reached to unlock it again a hand tangled in his hair, and he felt the cold tip of a blade come and rest against his throat, forcing him to tilt his head back.

“No no, you’re not getting away from me that easily.” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” He said as he dragged him further into the apartment, into the living room. He had clearly been here for a little while, things laid out and prepared on his coffee table, things he hoped to never see again. Leather cuffs, a blue collar, that goddamn ball gag, other tools Nicholas had used on him time and time again. It only just then occurred to him to call for help, panic taking over completely.

“No! Stop it- please- help me!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. He kept screaming, he had neighbors, somebody had to hear him, he hoped desperately this would work.

He fought when Nicholas moved the knife away from his throat, kicking the back of his knee and forcing him to the floor. There was a brief moment where he let go of his hair, he tried to scramble away but he was quickly grabbed by the wrist, roughly dragged back. His arms were twisted behind his back, secured in place with the leather cuffs, and he let out a broken sob, uselessly trying to pull against them.

“No no no please! Please somebody help!” He cried, but Nicholas finally had enough, grabbing him by the hair and holding the blade to his throat again as Eli took quick, shuddering breaths.

“Stop your crying and listen to me,” He hissed in his ear, “If you shut up now, I won’t have to gag you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He said, and all he could manage was a soft, whimpered mmhm, his lip trembling as he struggled not to cry. “There’s my good boy.” He said, finally letting go of him, only temporarily as he took a seat on the couch, grabbing his face and forcing him to meet his cold grey eyes.

“P-please, please don’t- don’t-“

“Shhh, it’s okay my love.” He said gently. “Look at you- you’ve only been away a short while and you’ve already ruined yourself.” He said, using the tip of the knife to brush back a loose strand of hair. Elias had dyed it as soon as he could after getting home, a nice deep blue color he had always been fond of. The thought of having that taken away again brought even more tears to his eyes. “You ran away for what? This tiny apartment? Long hours at work? Loneliness and fear and paranoia? Why would you do that when you were so much more comfortable with me?”

“N-no, I wasn’t, I wasn’t-“ He took a deep shuddering breath, struggling to put his frantic thoughts into words. “You-you know I was-wasn’t happy, how-how could I have been? Please, I-I’m home, it’s over now, please let it be over.” He whimpered pathetically, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“It’s not over until I say it is, you know that.” He said, a cruel smile on his face. “You need to learn a lesson, you need to learn to drop this stupid idea you have that you’re actually a person.”

“I-I am- I am a person, m-my name is- is Elias Brax, I-I’m-“ He tried to go through the words Zander had taught him to hold onto himself, words he’d repeated again and again and again, only for Nicholas to suddenly slap him, his head snapping to the side.

“Shut up!” He snapped. “You’re lying to yourself and you know it. You’ve gotten stupid in your time away, you need me here to remind you.” He said. He roughly shoved Eli back, the boy crying out when the back of his head hit the edge of the coffee table. Nicholas got to his feet, wandering about the living room as he seemed to be thinking about something. “You need to learn a lesson…” He said again, Elias watching him in fear.

His heart was pounding hard in his chest, he felt like he couldn’t breath. He wanted to try to keep fighting but he was scared, he was scared and he was so, so tired of fighting, he couldn’t anymore. He wanted this to be over, but the only way to get there was to ride it out.

“Who is this?” Nicholas asked, picking up a framed photo of Everett from a shelf. From his tone, Eli knew he didn’t have the option not to answer.

“He’s dead.” He blurted out immediately, Nicholas giving him a look as though he didn’t believe him. “He- that’s- that’s my brother, he’s d-dead, you can’t hurt him.” He told him. Nicholas didn’t seem to buy it, but he dropped the picture frame, Eli flinching when he heard the glass break. He picked up the frame next to it, a photo of him and Zander taken not long before Nicholas had first kidnapped him. “The mutt is alive and well though- for now, that is. Maybe that’s what you need to learn to listen-“

“No!” He cried. “Don’t-don’t hurt him, don’t hurt- don’t hurt anyone but me!” He said, and Nicholas smiled.

“Well, if you insist.” He dropped that frame as well, Eli whimpering as he made his way back over to him. He had changed his position to watch him, making it easy for Nicholas to kick him down so he was laying on his back, his arms trapped beneath him. Nicholas got down on the floor with him, straddling his waist. He was instantly scared he intended to strangle him again, but Nicholas gently touched his face, wiping away a tear at the corner of his eye. He cringed at the feeling of leather against his skin, he’d always hated those gloves he always wore.

“P-promise me.” Eli said, hardly thinking as he said it.

“What’s that?”

“Promise me- promise me it’ll be just me. Promise you-you won’t hurt anyone e-else. Please.” He said, his voice wavering, and Nicholas laughed.

“Alright sweet boy, I promise I won’t hurt anybody else.” He told him. He leaned down, before he could turn his head away he kissed him, Eli freezing and going tense out of habit, he never did learn how he was supposed to react. He knew he was testing him, pushing his weak boundaries to see just how much he would take without snapping. He pulled back after only a moment, though it felt much longer, seeming pleased with the fact he hadn’t put up a struggle. “I only want you, after all.”

He sat up straight again, busying himself with unbuttoning the white shirt Eli was wearing. In the back of his mind he couldn’t help but be disappointed it would end up stained with blood. He watched Nicholas reach across the coffee table, picking up a different blade, one he’d used on him often before, often enough that Wren’s breath caught in his throat when he saw it.

“How many days have you been gone from me, love? I’m sure you know the number.”

“I-It… it’s been almost seven- seven weeks… forty… forty six days today…” He said softly.

“Forty six days!” Nicholas said, almost sounding impressed. “You almost made it fifty days without me, I’m surprised you made it so long! That’s far too long though, too long for you to be left alone. A stupid thing like you is better off as a pet, you know that, right?” He said, clearly expecting an answer.

“I-I… Yes… yes sir…” He wanted to argue with him but he knew it would just prolong the ordeal, he just wanted it to be over.

“Good boy. Forty six days, well, we should go ahead and get started then.” He said, Elias wasn’t entirely sure what he intended to do but he bit back a cry when the blade pierced his skin, a small, quick cut, that stung more than anything else. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d made four similar cuts, only to slice across them as the fifth. Tally marks. One for everyday that he’d been gone.

Five of them was irritating, but bearable. Ten of them hurt, but aside from whining he remained quiet. Twenty of them, he couldn’t handle it anymore, sobbing as he felt like it had been going on forever, and would last just as long. The stinging pain was paired with the ache of his arms, his head pounding from his panicked breathing and crying. He wanted this to be over, he wanted everything to just go back to normal.

Forty six stinging cuts later and he was in tears, and despite the pain he was causing him Nicholas gently wiped away his tears, seeming to enjoy listening to him cry. Eli didn’t even want to know what his chest looked like, didn’t want to see all the blood. He wondered if Nicholas would be kind enough to clean him up at the end of all this, or if he would simply let him bleed out. He took a deep, shuddering breath when Nicholas got off him, though his relief didn’t last long when he pulled him into a sitting position, this wasn’t over just yet.

“Alright love, you did so well for me but the gag is necessary now.” He told him, and almost reflexively, obediently, he opened his mouth, slowly going numb the same way he did when he was trapped with him. Nicholas was gentle this time, the ball pushed between his teeth, the straps tightened and locked behind his head. He tried not to think about what was going to be so bad that it was supposedly necessary. He was careful as he moved him, adjusting him to lean forward and place his head on the table, Nicholas perched on the edge of the couch behind him. He heard a sound, the click of a lighter, and he couldn’t help but think about the time Cain heated a blade, and pressed it to his tongue.

He didn’t expect how close this would be to that. A sudden searing, white hot pain pressed against his back, in between his shoulder blades, and he *shrieked*. He sobbed loudly, tears streaming down his face as it happened again, he didn’t know how but he easily placed the pattern, forming out a letter N.

He screamed, though it was muffled by the gag he screamed, desperate and hopeless. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he screamed, because there was nothing else he could do.

***

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in his living room, shoved against the table and staring at that awful blue collar. He was staring at his ceiling, laying on his bed, his shark still clutched in one arm. He was covered in sweat but cold to the point of shivering, even under his blankets. The room was lit by a pale blue light, from a cat shaped night light on his desk, a gift from Zander. He sat up, shaking as he took in his surroundings.

As he finally came to his senses, he suddenly pulled his shirt over his head, looking down and expecting tally marks but not seeing any new scars, only ones he was used to, and the brand from Cain. He was able to reach back, his hand feeling between his shoulder blades and finding no traces of a burn or any wound. He took slow deep breaths, realizing it had just been a dream.

He opened his mouth, he tried to speak, and he couldn’t. Yep, just a dream. He’d never been so relieved to be silent.

He wasn’t entirely relieved though, a sense of paranoia still weighing down on him. He hardly thought about it when he stumbled out of bed, swaying and having to grab his door frame and stop for a minute on his way out. His dreams always disoriented him, having to adjust to only half his vision again. Once he was sure he was okay, he rushed to the front door, checking the locks, all of which were still in place. He moved about the apartment quickly, efficiently, flipping on every light and checking every room, even the closets. He checked the locks on the windows, the door to his balcony, all locked, all secure, every room empty. He even stopped in the living room, making sure the pictures of Everett and him and Zander were still intact, which they were. He was still nervous, but he felt safe enough to return to his room, climbing back into bed. He didn’t lay down, he stayed sitting propped against his headboard, holding his shark close to his chest.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare. He was alone, safe in his home. Nicholas wasn’t there, he couldn’t hurt him anymore, he didn’t have to play the part of his Love ever again.

My name is Elias Brax, He mouthed, his lip trembling, I’m twenty four years old. I’m not a dog. I’m not Wren. I’m not Love. My name is Elias Brax.

His shoulders shook as he buried his face in his stuffed animal, a silent sob wracking his body. He was tired of this, he wanted to be okay, he wanted it all to be over. Nicholas couldn’t hurt him anymore, but he was still scared of him, still so, so scared of him hurting somebody he loved. He didn’t want to be alone, he wanted Zander there, but it was hard to get ahold of him when he couldn’t even speak. He didn’t really want to bother him as it was, he had spent so much time with him in the first few weeks, Eli had been insisting he could finally sleep alone again. Well, apparently he couldn’t, it seemed.

He didn’t fall back asleep that night. He stayed curled up like that until the sun rose, and even then he didn’t want to move, too scared of doing something wrong, too scared that maybe the nightmare had been reality, and this was the real dream.

***

Tag List: @ihaventwritteninsolong , @galaxywhump , @legallylibra , @to-whump-or-not-to-whump , @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi , @as-a-matter-of-whump , @grovegrocer , @renkocchi , @whumpasaurus101 , @inky-whump , @lonesome--hunter , @ladygwennn , @simplygrimly , @withering-whump , @lave-e, @whatwhumpcomments , @thatsthewhump , @just-another-whumper , @starnight-whump , @unicornscotty

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #Bad Timeline #Wren #Nicholas #sibling death tw #pet whump #dehumanization #noncon kiss #noncon touching #knife whump #branding #nightmares

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Temptations - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part-2

Read Part-1 here.

Warning - SMUT

Requested by - @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @peakyfooky @bubblegumflamingos @thomashelbyswhore

You looked at your reflection in the mirror; you were glowing. Your eyelashes curled perfectly over your eyes and the corner of your cherry painted lips puckered into a smile of your own. It had been a month since you had let that blue eyed Peaky Blinders gangster bend you over your desk and fuck you like there was no tomorrow. Since then, although you hadn't met him again, he made it a point to be a part of most of the important events that you and your husband happened to be a part of.

Lingering glances were shared, lips licked fervently and the man slowly undressed you with his piercing, blue eyes, fucking you with his eyes. The way he admired the olive green dress that hung over your ample arse at the Epsom Derby, you couldn't get the look off your mind. It was tantalizing, refreshing yet scandalizing if someone was to notice, but no one did.

You had tried hard to find yourself a minute alone with the man, your carnal desires clouding over your perfectly sane, sharp mind for a bit that day but much to your dismay, Michael was glued to your side all the time, although he paid you no heed.

You were laying in your massive king sized four postered bed, revelling in the fact that your husband was out on a business trip to London and wasn't coming back home for atleast a few days. Your newly shaved legs rubbed against the soft, silken sheets, the friction causing slight irritation and inflammation but you didn't seem to mind. A lit cigarette rested in your left hand and a half empty bottle of Irish Whiskey lay on your bedside table, the tip of the bottle imprinted with your lipstick.

A loud knock on your door caused you to sharply turn your neck towards it. There was an urgency in the knock, and the knocking wasn't dying down.

"For fuck's sake, stop trying to break the damn door, will ya? I'm coming."

You slid out of bed, wrapping your robe around your body as you made your way to the door and unlocked it. One of Michael's men was standing there, his eyes thrown open, his face and his clothes covered in dried up blood. At first, you were shocked. You threw the door wide open, letting the man get in, and followed him.

"Mrs. Button, we've fucking been cornered, those fucking Blinders, they attacked the pub in London—"

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Blinders; the image of the handsome Blinder devil plastering itself to the back of your eyes like a still of a black and white movie. You wanted to smile as it felt like Tommy had after all, been true to his words. You knew he had done it for you.

Donning on a mask of sudden sadness, you blinked rapidly, hoping to get fake tears to provide a blanket of cloud to your eyes, you spoke, "Michael? What about him? Is he okay?"

"Mrs Button, the news is bad, he was shot at the back of the bloody skull."

You bit hard on your tongue; trying your best not to smile.

"And?"

"You tell us what to do, eh, you're the new boss, ain't it?" The man sluggishly replied, a tiny hint of a smile on his lips; it was ghostly, barely there, but yet you noticed it.

"Well, we plan a funeral, what else?"

He nodded, finally letting himself smirk freely around you and so did you.

These were your men now. You didn't have to be scared of a dead man anymore. He could do you no harm.

"Lad, wait."

Your voice rang out in the hallway, the moment he turned to leave. He turned towards you, blinking, waiting for your command.

"Remember the crate Michael kept hidden in the barn? That fine single malt Scotch Whiskey?"

"What of it, Mrs, er, Miss?"

"Pull out a bottle, and go celebrate with the men. And get a drink for me too, will ya?"

Your smirks matched each other's as you saw him nod briefly and leave.

Freedom felt amazing.

Thomas Shelby had not only freed you; he had also given you a chance to get everything Michael owned, down from his business to the mansion you lived in— it was all yours now.

The chill at the cemetery was biting, your long black overcoat did nothing to protect you from the frost that was causing your cheeks to wither and turn stony. You stood in a corner, a few of his men on either of your sides, heads burrowed slightly. You knew it was all an act, and the minute they stepped out of the cemetery, they would be out celebrating, for Michael was not a pleasant boss to work for. But you couldn't blame them, you felt the same.

You felt elation, you felt free and you wanted to celebrate. Worst of all, you wanted to see him.

Your Thomas Fucking Shelby—

As the coffin was lowered to the ground, and the short, bald headed priest mumbled verses from the Bible, you looked down at your feet, your mind distracted. You needed a smoke.

"Excuse me." You mumbled to the woman standing next to you, and lowering your head, you pushed your way away from the ceremony through his men, making your way up to the embalming area, to smoke. The minute you stepped into those close confines, you took off your overcoat and dumped it on a chair, straightening the crease on your black mourning dress.

The embalming area was sheeted with a blanket of quiet, a solitary confinement. This place had a lot of stories to tell perhaps, of death, of tears and of the human mortality.

Then how could a place such morose be a cause of a start of your new life? It wouldn't even have crossed your mind, but a part of you knew, death and life, there is a fine line between it. A death can pave way for a new life— the life of a newfound love, built on the extermination of your abusive husband.

You knew Tommy would come; so it wasn't a surprise to you when you whiffed his fragrance lingering in the air— of cigarettes, alcohol and a bit of mint.

"You're here, I can feel it." You whispered into the thin air, only to feel his arms creep up behind you, in a teasing manner, his fingertips trailing against the fabric of your black mourning dress. You were not this kind of woman, a woman that would rejoice in someone's death, but the countless years of torment you had seen, in the form of your now dead husband was enough to wipe off any traces of the respect you had for him in the dead form. You couldn't care less, if outside, his coffin was being lowered into the ground.

"Thank you," your whisper came out breathy, your eyes rolled back in the back of your head and slowly, you rolled yourself to face the Blinder devil, placing your hands on either of his shoulder while his hands held you tight by your hips, holding you in place.

"Hope you gave him a peaceful death." You mumbled, nuzzling your nose into the side of his cheek, his wafting fragrance seeping through your nostrils.

You heard him hum and nod, his plump lips moving along as he peppered soft kisses down the side of your neck, "As peaceful as that bastard deserved," he mumbled into your shoulder; in his thick brummie accent.

You stayed glued to the man like two trees rooted side by side, for a few minutes. Finally, after what felt like a short period of time, but would have probably been minutes; you reluctantly pulled away, bringing your palm to cup his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him; waiting for the minute the fireworks will erupt.

The kiss was warm, his lips plump and salty, a bit dry, owing the countless cigarettes the man smoked during the day but he knew how to make you weak in the knees but just a kiss, making you want more and more. "Oh Tommy.. Tommy.." His name slipped out of your tongue, your honey like voice repeating it as though it will fly away if you stopped saying it.

Tommy grunted in response to you dragging out his name from your lips, his arms grabbing you by your hips and lifting you up slightly. The moment your feet lifted off the ground, you locked your legs behind Tommy, who had by now seated you on the embalming slab, his hands raking over your sides, trying to feel your curves and inches.

You were panting in desire by the time you felt Tommy hoist your skirt up, running his cold fingers along your inner thigh, in a teasing manner. Your core was throbbing, your panties already soaked and waiting for him.

"Tommy please." You whined, need dripping off your lips like saliva.

"Oh the things you bloody do to me." Tommy murmured, letting his palm rub over your lips over the fabric of your panties, letting out an inaudible grunt when he felt his fingers start coating with your slick, even before he'd taken off your panties, "I haven't even done anything yet, and look at you, getting all wet for me already, yeah?"

"All you have to do is look at me like that, Mr. Shelby," You purred through pursed lips, fluttering your lashes.

"I want to do a lot more than to just look at you, love."

Tommy's hands came to rest over your shoulders, and you felt the strap of your dress slide off, letting your bare shoulders glisten under the semi lit light of the embalming room. Pressing his knee in the space between your legs, Tommy bent slightly, taking in your hard, erect nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue teasingly swipe over it before he started ravishing your nipples, one by one. Instinctively, your hands flew to his head, your fingers burrowing in his matted hair, tugging on it. You arched your needy core forward towards him, hoping that the friction and the heat from his body would provide a soothing pleasure to your aching core.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Tommy smirked, slowly letting himself drop on his knees, so your core was parallel to his face.

"Tommy, please," you pleaded, your voice heavy and coated with lust.

Your panties were tugged down, and Tommy's digits ran fervently over your entrance in a teasing manner, causing you to throw your head back and let out a whimper. His finger finally slid into you, causing you to squirm at the welcome visitor to your body.

"You like that, eh, you like being my whore?"

You bit your lip, letting your palms out of Tommy's hair as you started rubbing your own breasts in a teasing manner.

"It takes two to tango, Thomas, if I'm your whore, then what are you to me?"

Your question was buried without an answer, and you didn't ask again. But this was because you felt you had lost your capacity to think. The feeling of Tommy's lips, pressed to your core, his tongue sliding in and out of your entrance, circling around your sweet spot was too much to keep your wits. You fell backwards, spreading your legs as wide as you could, to provide the man an easy passage.

"Tommy, I'm going to —"

You felt fireworks in your body, a sudden feeling of ecstacy, of what you'd call nirvana. Your eyes clouded with pleasure as you came even before you could provide Tommy with the warning, squirting all over his face. Satisfied with himself, Tommy slowly pulled back, licking your juices off his lips; and all you could think was, how hot he looked, with your juices all over his mouth.

"I thought it will take a lot bloody more to get you to do that, love," he smirked, pulling himself back up on his feet as he unbuckled his trousers and slowly let it fall to the ground. You could already see the massive tent poking out like a mountain in his boxers so you reached out, grabbing his cock over the fabric of it, stroking it, feeling it get even harder under your touch.

"Fucking hell," he grunted, letting his eyes shut for a brief second before he tugged off his boxers and adjusted himself right at your entrance.

Your eyes met his; as though he was asking your permission. You didn't know why you did it, or why he let you do it but you leaned forward, letting your lips meet his, the exact same moment he slid his erect cock into you, slowly filling you up. It wasn't just sex, it was something much more, he was making love to you.

"Am I still your whore?" You murmured, your panting heavy and bothered.

"You'll always be my whore in bed, look at you, driving me nuts with that tight little cunt." He murmured back.

When you both finally came undone, panting and moaning and covered in sweat and each other's bodily fluids, Tommy slowly fell on you, exhausted, his eyes shut, his head buried between the crevice of your breasts. You wrapped your hand gently around his neck, holding him close. It felt strangely intimate, and strangely, you felt your heartstrings being tugged at. This was an all new feeling for you; you had never experienced anything remotely close to this.

Were you falling for him?

Or was it just lust?

What if he just left you after today?

What if you were his means of getting his stress out?

These questions that you asked yourself were enough to give you an answer for your first one.

You were falling for him. And you were scared he'll leave you. And you were scared that your heart will be ripped apart, and there will be no one to mend it.

Instinctively, you winced and pushed him off you. He was startled, confused and he followed you with his eyes. You pulled up your panties and tugged the skirt of your dress back in place and pulled the straps back up, adjusting your dress again.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"They must be looking for me, yeah?" You mumbled, absentmindedly. You couldn't, for some reason, look at him.

He didn't reply. From the corner of your ears, you heard the sound of the fabric of his trousers, that he had finally pulled back up and buttoned. He then slid on his wrinkled shirt and started shuffling through the contents of his trousers pocket to look for his packet of cigarettes.

You sighed, grabbing your box of cigarettes that was laying abandoned on the embalming table, and tossed it to him. He caught it mid air, pulling out a stick and sticking it into his mouth.

"This was just sex to you, wasn't it?" He was blunt, his voice cold, unlike what you had seen him the two times you had met him. Up close. Up front. He was now what he showed the rest of the world that he was. But his question was raw, bringing out the broken man inside him, a man who'd been trampled on, left, rejected.

"That's the funny thing, Mr. Shelby." You whispered, your voice soft, broken as you looked down at your hands, nervously fumbling with the hem of your dress, so you didn't have to meet his cold icy stare. "I wish it was just sex to me. But unfortunately, it's not. And I'm not ready to get my heart broken even before its fucking started beating again, you know?"

The man let out a soft sigh, smoke coiling around him as he exhaled and he slowly walked up to where you were standing, hesitantly.

"This has been lovely, Thomas and you have saved my life, saved me from a monster. If I can ever repay ─" Your palm mechanically flew up to his chin, slowly cupping his cheek, your thumb stroking against the side of his face. You had half expected him to move away from this affectionate embrace, but he didn't. Infact, he seemed to melt into it.

"You can repay me."

Your hand fell to your side, clenching at the fabric of your dress.

There he was, finally revealing the truth, of course he wanted something from you.

"What?" You almost snapped.

As if thinking, the man in front of you blinked , before you saw him slide his palm into his pocket and pull something out. You couldn't see it, whatever it was, was too tiny and was masked securely inside his palm, sheilded from your eyes.

"I know this is not the most appropriate places to ask, but will you marry me?"

You took a step away, or rather, your body suddenly went limp with elation. You couldn't feel your legs, it was as if your knees had turned to jelly. You'd heard it right, didn't you?

"Say that again, will ya?" You croak.

Tommy shook his head, almost faintly, with a tiny of annoyance in his eyes, but somehow he did it again. But this time, even more creatively. Your eyes widened as you saw him go down on his knees, and this time it was different. It wasn't sexual and he wasn't going to ravage your pussy with his mouth. He opened the box and in rested a beautiful diamond ring, the diamond massive enough for your heart to leap in joy. It was beautiful.

"You, Miss (Y/N) (L/N), will you finally accept my offer to marry you, yeah?"

You couldn't help but laugh. He really didn't know how to do this.

"Is this a business deal?" You chuckled, throwing your palm out that he caught with his free hand.

"A business deal for a fucking lifetime." He slowly slid the ring over your ring finger and you swear you saw a warm smile on his face, as he looked up at you, with love.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader smut

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talkfastromance4 · 5 years ago

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King-- Luke Hemmings oneshot (mafia!au)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, death, smut

donate to my ko-fi here :)

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Enjoy! :) feedback is always welcome

• • • •

It’s been a long night of keeping your eyes peeled for any adversaries attempting to target your Boss, Luke Hemmings. He’s the notorious leader of the Hemmings mafia, has numerous bounties from other mobs and gangs but he’s untouchable. He’s well protected and with you now as his consigliere, you make sure your Boss is safe.

You’ve reached this rank at an exponential rate compared to the other associates. You’ve heard the rumors whispered among them about how you’ve slept your way to the top, but you were born into this lifestyle because your parents were one of the highest ranked associates. Thrown in when they were killed by another notorious mafia family, the Romans, you were well taken care of.

You exceeded the training, wore the best clothes, excelled at the most prestigious schools and now you’ve earned your way to the top. Well, second to the top, but still. Your skill, your wits and your charm is what brought you there, not provocativeness.

You’re also no fool because Luke Hemmings is beyond handsome. He always wears the most suave suits, the shiniest boots with his nails freshly manicured or covered in black polish--his signature color--and his hair perfectly curled. He’s nicknamed Lion because of those golden curls and the motto of the family is “life’s a jungle, and the lion is king.”

Luke lives by that motto proudly. He’s truly a king.

While you’re walking the perimeter of the ballroom, eying anyone who appears suspicious, you catch your boss’s eyes. Just like the lion, his eyes are always fixated on you, watching your every move, anticipating your actions. At first it intimidated you because you thought you were the object of his scrutiny, but one night while you were exchanging the batteries in your earpiece in his office, Luke gave you praise.

“I’ve heard the whispers as well. You’ve earned this spot.”

“Yes sir,” you said. When he didn’t reply you looked up and jumped a little at how close he was to you, so close in fact, that you could see how blue his eyes were.

“I mean it,” he said earnestly, voice soft. He always spoke so smoothly with an air of sophistication and authority while he dealt with informants. His change in tone surprised you. “Your parents were top notch at their jobs and you aren’t any different. Don’t let them knock you down a peg, you’re the princess of this family. We’ll always take care of you.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” you nodded then gulped. You’d never been that close to him before, so close in fact that you could smell his cologne. Smooth and crisp just like him.

“None of this ‘sir’ nonsense,” he smirked, “you’re my second, call me Luke.”

That was nearly ten months ago, and every trip you went on with Luke tempted you even further. Yes, you’re his right hand, but you’re also his security. You took down the enemy when necessary, the first kill you had done left you a little shaken.

You and Luke were in Italy, meeting with an associate when one of them went rogue and tried to attack Luke across the mahogany table where straps of money were placed in strategic rows. Without a moment’s hesitation, you whipped your gun out and fired. The man slumped on the table, his death staining the money.

You stared at his body, saw the life still lingering in the lights of his eyes when Luke yanked you out of the room with Ashton, another guard. Your ears were ringing and somehow you still went through the motions for an instance like this that you were trained for. You moved in a daze and it wasn’t until you were safely on the plane that Luke sat in front of you.

“Your first kill always takes you by surprise,” he said in that same soft voice he used in his office. “Thank you for acting so quickly, Y/N, you have my utmost gratitude and respect. When we get back, I’m giving you a few days off. A limo will be at your door with your own security and go wherever and do whatever you please, all right?”

You could only nod because you were still so shaken, both from the kill and from the kindness Luke showed you.

The king has never shown his soft side before.

You’re positioned at the bar, eyes constantly scanning the room when you feel a body stand next to you. Fingers touch your bare shoulder as a slimy voice says, “can I buy the pretty damsel a drink?”

With quick precision, you twist the man’s wrist against his back, pushing his front against the bar. He groans in pain and you tug on his wrist so he feels the strain in his muscles.

“I’m not a damsel and I’m not interested. Get out of my sight,” you hiss then shove him away from you. Your eyes move immediately to Luke in case the drunken imbecile was supposed to be a distraction.

To your relief, Luke is still perched near the head table. To your dismay and irritation, a flock of women surround him. He catches your gaze then gives you a slow nod, his eyes sliding to the retreating drunkard you grabbed. You nod back stiffly, then continue your walk around the room.

Your identity and role within the family is well known amongst the other families and Luke likes to keep you close. The party ensues without a hitch and Luke makes the deal he’s been trying to make for months. Smooth sailing in the king’s jungle tonight.

As always, you accompany him to his car to head back to his mansion where you have your own wing to live in. You’re confused when you don’t see Robert, his driver.

“What--?”

You’re pushed against the side of his car gasping as Luke’s hands grasp your waist as you gasp at the sudden movement. He’s very much in your space, his body pressed to yours and his cologne invading your senses.

“So this is what you look like when your guard is down,” he hums cocking his head to the side.

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, aware of every inch of his body being pressed to yours. Your cheeks are hot and in between your legs is even hotter.

“I can’t have my guard down,” you mutter, eyes fixated on his lips as his tongue darts out, then you move to his eyes.

Then he’s stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers, his knee pushes apart your thighs and his hand on your waist tightens. Your body is electric at being this close to him, your senses in hyperdrive at every touch.

“I want you to have your guard down with me, lovie,” he says.

“Why?” you blurt and he smirks. His fingers on your cheek thread into your hair, tugging slightly.

“You really have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Embarrassed and not sure what to do, you lower your gaze to the chain around his neck. Luke is quick to tilt your head back up so you’re staring into his piercing blue eyes, his fingers tight in your hair.

“Eyes on me, lovie,” he says softly leaning close. His eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes; you feel like you’re about to pass out. “Can I kiss you?”

You mouth a yes and then his lips are on yours. You melt into his kiss willingly, your fingers finding home in his oh so soft curls, curls you’ve been aching to touch. He pulls you closer, slips his tongue in your mouth and you moan at the contact. All too quickly, he stops kissing you and you’re filled with more embarrassment.

You shouldn’t have let this happen. It shouldn’t happen because of your rank and the ties you have. You’re his security and confidant, nothing more, nothing less and he probably realized this. Luke pulls you away from the car then surprises you by opening it.

“Get in,” he commands. What the boss says, you do. Luke climbs in after you, the snap of the door echoes in the backseat and then he’s pulling you onto his lap.

Your knees are in an awkward position so you adjust yourself until you’re sitting comfortably on top of him, it makes Luke groan. His arms snake around your lower back pulling you flush against him and you sigh when his lips are on your neck.

“Either you really have no idea what you do to me,” he mumbles on your skin, “or you’re a really good actress.” His teeth puncture your flesh and you let out a gasp, it leaves your body tingling.

“I...I don’t know what you mean,” you gasp when his mouth moves to your left breast. He sucks on the skin, his tongue roaming over his bite.

“Shall I see what I do to you?”

Then you feel his fingers move down your thigh and in between your legs. Your dress is bunched up to your hips so he has easy access to your core, the pads of his fingers touch the wet spot on your panties. Your body jerks at his touch as he continues to rub your clit over your panties.

You curl your fingers into his hair letting him do whatever he wants to you. Your hips move with his fingers then he pushes aside the fabric and plunges his fingers into you. The squeal escapes you and he hums in response.

“So pretty for me, lovie,” he sighs and resumes the assault with his lips on your neck. “Mm, so warm.”

His ministrations of his fingers scissoring in and out of you while his thumb is pressing on your clit has you moaning atop him. You’re sure this is all a dream but when you come, you’re still awake and you want more.

Breathing heavily, you gaze into his eyes while you undo his belt and pants. Luke’s eyebrows raise but he doesn’t stop you, instead he helps you by lifting his hips so his long, hard dick springs free. You bite your lip at the sight.

“Panties off, lovie,” he commands. What the boss says, you do.

You join your hands behind his neck when you climb on top of him again. Luke slaps the tip of his dick against your opening and you’re aching to feel him inside you.

“Please,” you beg quietly, rotating your hips.

“Please who?” he taunts, teasing you by pushing his tip in you slightly.

“Please Luke!” you whine and he plunges into you. You let out a cry at the sudden stretch then moan appreciatively at the sensation of being filled.

Without instruction, your hips begin to move and you bounce on his dick, loving how easily he slides in and out of you. Your fingers curl and extract in his curls while his hot hands help guide you as you ride him.

The car is filled with your pants and moans as you lose control for the first time.

“That’s it, ride me just like that,” he praises and it makes you moan more. His words trickle to your clit and you bounce harder, move faster. Luke moans with you as he feels you clench around his dick.

“I’m...I’m almost...LUKE!” you damn near scream his name as you release once more but Luke takes control of your hips and keeps you moving.

He thrusts up into you at a rapid pace, skin slapping skin, your bodies becoming hot. Luke pushes the skirt of your dress up higher, one hand squeezing your ass cheek while the other smacks it. You cry out in pleasure and kiss him hungrily, needing more, craving more of him.

He smacks your ass a few more times before you’re both fucking each other in rapid speed. His breath hitches and he groans into your mouth as you feel his hot load spurt inside you. Your whole body is warm as your motions slow.

With a heavy sigh, you stare at him in a trance. Luke cradles your cheeks in his hands, he smiles softly then pecks your lips gently.

“I wanted to do this in my own bed, but I couldn’t wait that long,” he admits.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you pant then turn your head to the side. “I’d like to try it in your bed though.”

Luke laughs, his eyes scan down your body then back up again. “I’d like to see all of you.”

“Then let’s go.” you press your lips to his again.

“One condition,” he says and wraps his fingers in your hair. He pulls your head back, his dominance showing through.

“Yes?”

“You’re my queen now, yeah?” he smiles, teeth showing like a lion.

“Life’s a jungle,” you grin.

“And a lioness is queen.”

• • • •

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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 5 years ago

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“Somewhere Just Beyond My Reach, There’s Someone Reaching Back For Me” -- Wilhemina Venable x Mildred Ratched

Mildred Ratched already owns my heart. That’s just the sad truth. She shares the space with Venable now. Which means that I’m left thinking of the two of them together almost constantly. And eventually it got too loud and I had to write it.

Please bear with me, the show hasn’t even dropped a trailer yet so this is just me having fun with the little I know about Nurse Ratched (and the little I am hoping for gathered from promo pictures/teasers). Also, I wrote it in maybe two days, so I apologize in advance for any typos.

Words: ~13,500

Warnings: None? I’m hesitant to say none on a fic with ~these women~, but yeah I think that’s where we are right now. Just a bit of smut (shhhh)

~I really hope you all enjoy this one, it’s probably a bit different than everyone was expecting, but I couldn’t resist. Alright, LET’S DO THIS~

Wilhemina’s fingers twitched on her cane, thumb rubbing reflexively against the handle as she watched the line in front of her. Stagnant. And she had been waiting for almost twenty minutes.

She was just starting to lose her patience, especially with the man she was behind. Too tall, smelling of cigarettes. The future of her day pressed against her, the knowledge that she was going to be faced with hundreds of these men, large and consuming and throwing too much ego around.

This convention was entirely men, as far as she could see. And as she looked around, took in their shining shoes and their notebooks and their stares, she shifted, setting her posture on her cane and standing up a bit straighter.

Until heels clicked through the room, tapping steadily and coming to a halt just behind her.

And Wilhemina realized that they hadn’t been staring at her.

Soft muttering, a huff, and then Wilhemina turned, her curiosity peaked.

Her eyes landed on a woman, entirely too perfect for her own good, from the way her hat sat at an impeccable angle to the way her feet crossed smoothly, one in front of the other, as she dug through her purse.

A second later, her mouth pursed into a thin line as she pulled out a neatly folded stack of papers. And as she looked up, straightening, her eyes met Wilhemina’s.

A small smirk played over her lips, no doubt at the realization that Wilhemina had been staring at her. And all Wilhemina could think to do in the moment was pop her brow, quirking her head.

Composure. Self-preservation.

A long moment where Wilhemina let herself look her up and down, take in her quartered sleeves, peter-pan collar, the row of thick buttons that ran a perfect line down to a flared skirt. And black, velvet gloves to match.

And then she found her voice.

“I was under the impression that I would be the only woman speaking here today.”

And this woman, so impeccably dressed, so impeccably put together, had the nerve to pop her brow right back.

“Well,” she countered quickly, tipping her shoulders back. “One should never assume.”

And this time, Wilhemina couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at her lips. She offered her free hand, tapping her cane as she spoke. “Wilhemina Venable. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

And to her surprise, the woman took it, gloved hand warm in Wilhemina’s grip.

“Mildred Ratched,” she replied smoothly, eyes hot as a smile curved her lips.

Wilhemina couldn’t help but shift as she shook the woman’s hand, some sort of victory, of smugness, folding into her from the power radiating through this simple gesture. Her nose twitched and then Mildred’s hand was falling away, finding the strap of her small purse and rubbing at it absently as she pulled her composure back around her.

She watched Mildred’s eyes flick past her, and then immediately around the room. Watched the slight shake in her breath as she undoubtedly realized what Wilhemina had only moments before. It really was all men here, save the two of them.

“What are you lecturing on?” Wilhemina asked, pleased when Mildred’s eyes snapped back to her.

“Psychological advances made through study of post-trauma triggers and observances in the field of action.”

Wilhemina hummed, her fingers tightening on her cane as the implication of what the woman said settled around her. “You helped during the war?”

A smug look crossed Mildred’s face, but she morphed it into a passive smile. “Helped might be an understatement.”

There was a long moment as Wilhemina realized that Mildred was probably entirely capable of handling herself around so many men. Commanding so many men. And then the woman spoke again.

“And you?”

Wilhemina swallowed, tapping her cane as she set her shoulders against inevitable backlash that always came when she admitted to never helping with the war efforts.

“No.”

To her surprise, Mildred only chuckled. Shook her head. “I meant what are you lecturing on.”

She set her jaw, fingers twitching at her error. Her mistake. But Mildred hadn’t scolded her. Hadn’t judged. She was only curious. So polite. So focused.

“I’m simply posing the question of technology versus consciousness. And somehow, I have a feeling that these men will not like it.”

A small laugh from Mildred, and then something settled over her that looked almost uncomfortable, an uneasiness radiating off of her like a wave.

Wilhemina quirked a brow. “Perhaps you’re not fond of it either, Ms. Ratched?”

But Mildred shook her head. “Nurse,” she corrected. “And it’s not that. It’s simply...”

Her eyes pulled over the men surrounding them. Staring at them. Undoubtedly murmuring about them as they walked. Always together. Always in pairs.

Mildred fingered the strap of her purse, teeth scraping over her bottom lip for a fraction of a second before she schooled her features.

Wilhemina let her eyes run over her once more, top to bottom and back again. The language of her movements, scribbled down in books on how to cover yourself from the world. How to block everyone out and set yourself atop the pyramid of society.

“Well, Nurse Ratched,” Wilhemina tried, smirking as she tapped her cane once more. “Order on the outside does wonders to keep the chaos safely on the inside.”

And then those eyes, those brown, piercing eyes, viciously slicing through Wilhemina. She knew that look, that shock. She had seen right through her. Exposed her, clear as day. Mildred was vulnerable. Mildred was broken.

Mildred was just like her.

~~~

There was an expression on Wilhemina’s face that Mildred couldn’t read. And try as she might, eyes searching and picking apart the minuscule eyebrow quirks and eyes narrowing and lips twitching, she was completely lost.

And nothing set her more on edge.

Mildred had always been able to read everyone. It was her first priority. Get a feel for them, dig down into them. Find the thing that makes them tick and spin it on its head to stay on top.

But Wilhemina had some sort of wall around her. Something that fuzzed out Mildred’s mind and kept her pulled in tight. A magnet against a metal strip.

A soft, “I look forward to hearing you speak,” and then Wilhemina was turning away, stepping forward in line and giving her name to the man sat at the table just in front of them.

She watched as Wilhemina handed over her papers, shoulders askew and tapping her cane. Impatiently, Mildred realized. And she schooled her features as she recognized the difference between this tap and the way it had clicked when they were speaking. Absently, an extension of herself.

And then, with an irritated smile, Wilhemina was checked in and moving aside, fingers flexing on her cane as she sauntered past the table.

Mildred watched Wilhemina walk away, handing her papers to the man before her. And her eyes stayed locked on Wilhemina as she paused just before she fell out of sight, turning mid-step.

“Name?” the man asked, pulling Mildred’s attention from the smirk that sliced across her face.

She took a deep breath, voice perfectly even as she replied. And as he sifted through files and documentation, Mildred let herself look up again. Wilhemina was gone.

She shoved the pang of sadness aside, straightening out the hem of her glove and shifting her purse further up her arm. And only after clearing the woman from her mind and focusing back on the man before her, did she notice how careless he was being.

“Excuse me,” she tried, voice suddenly firm. Still impeccably soft. “You’re wrinkling the edge of my papers.” Mildred indicated to the corner of the page, where the man’s arm was pressing a nice crease into the side of her registration documents. Her fingers twitched on the strap of her purse as she composed herself.

“They’re just papers,” the man said, offering her a small smile as he finished scribbling.

“They’re just things, Mildred. You don’t need things.”

“Daddy, please. Not mommy’s necklace.”

“You don’t deserve it. You haven’t been a good girl.”

Mildred pressed her mouth into a thin line, taking a deep breath against her father’s voice in her head.

“They’re my papers,” she said firmly, pressing her hand into the table and leaning forward. “And good manners would indicate you having respect for others’ things. Would it not?”

The man’s smile fractured, and Mildred almost smirked as she watched him gulp. He straightened out the corner of her papers, handing them back to her.

“Apologies, Nurse Ratched. Your first lecture is in room 42 B, just down the hall on the right.”

“There’s a good boy,” she drawled, pulling the papers from his fingers and frowning at the line down the edge. “And you’re going to be more careful with everyone else’s belongings, yes?”

“Yes, Nurse Ratched.”

And then she was walking away, that nice little bubble of satisfaction wedging into her heart.

~~~

“Eyes up.”

Mildred’s voice rang out through the hall, and Wilhemina was shocked at how her heart leapt at the tone of it. So commanding. So dominating.

“Our boys sacrificed their lives on these battlefields for us. The absolute least we can do is pay attention and listen and learn, to further the pursuit of medicine that they gave their lives for. Is that not correct?”

“I don’t think they sacrificed their lives for medicine, Nurse Ratched.”

And Wilhemina smiled at the fire that licked over her eyes, watching the way her hands splayed out on her podium. The way she straightened out her neck as her eyes bored into the boy who had interrupted her.

“What is your name?” she asked calmly. Too calmly.

“Jimmy,” he replied smoothly, and Wilhemina’s fingers itched at the smug look on his face. She could barely see him, sitting impeccably still in her seat and tracking him with her eyes. But she knew that tone of voice. She knew that type of man.

“Well, James,” Mildred continued, stepping around her podium and crossing her legs as she folded her hands neatly in front of her. “They may not have gone to war with the intention of furthering medicine. But they did go to war with the intention of saving lives. And how we use these lessons that they have taught us, intentional or not, could change the course of humanity as we know it. So would we not be remiss to waste such a hefty sacrifice? Do we not owe it to our boys to take as much as we can from the lives they gave so freely?”

And the sound that followed as Mildred looked over the men, eyes tracking them sharply as her expression morphed from perfectly concerned to smooth and kind, made Wilhemina’s heart pound. Because you could hear a pin drop. And never in her life had she ever come across another woman who had the same affect that she did on a group of men. Another woman who was so commanding. And so impeccably composed.

~~~

Wilhemina’s cane tapped with her words, punctuating points and emphasizing the way her eyes would narrow at questions.

“So, are you saying that we could make robots, Ms. Venable? Like…from the movies?”

A few laughs threaded out through the room and Mildred shifted in her seat, nose twitching at the innate possessiveness that pooled in her chest.

But as she looked up at Wilhemina, vision blurring, just so, her cane slammed against the wood. Mildred had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the way the men jumped in their seats.

“If you were listening, Mr. Brannard, you would understand that not only is it a possibility, my colleagues and I have already accomplished it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Mildred hated the way that even that small act of dominance made her heart pound.

Wilhemina pursed her lips, tilting her head and tutting softly. Condescendingly. “Or are you too naive to imagine that something this advanced could be achieved so soon? By a woman?”

The boy stuttered, looking to the man beside him for help. But he was head down in his papers, scratching out notes.

Mildred took a deep breath, eyes falling back to Ms. Venable as she stalked around the podium. Slow. Practiced. She was making them wait, and she knew they would.

And suddenly, just like that, in a moment — Mildred was addicted to her.

~~~

The door shut behind Wilhemina and she let herself sigh, leaning onto her cane as her eyes fell closed. There was something about being surrounded by men, constantly, their eyes on her as she spoke, that always made her feel dirty. And it was exhausting, having to keep her steel walls up when Mildred was sitting in the back of the room watching her with so much intensity that she should have caught fire.

It was sad when the only place that she could get a moment to breathe was the ladies’ room.

That moment ended quicker than she would have liked, the squeak of the door opening forcing her to stand straighter on her cane and busy herself in the mirror.

Strong. Unaffected.

Heels clicked as Wilhemina wiped at the corner of her mouth, flicking off the smallest speck of stray lipstick. She waited for the woman to lock herself in a stall so that she could make a clean exit. But to her surprise, the footsteps stopped just short of her. And when Wilhemina threw a hot look over her shoulder at the intrusion, she was almost impressed.

“Hello, dear.”

Wilhemina popped her brow, a small smirk making her lips twitch. “Ms. Ratched.”

“Nurse,” she corrected, tipping her chin up as her eyes lit from behind.

“Mildred.”

A pause, Mildred’s gaze falling down Wilhemina’s form. “What are you doing?”

“Well I was intending to use the restroom,” Wilhemina replied, smoothing a hand down her skirt as she turned to face the woman.

Mildred’s eyes were calculating, twitching almost imperceptibly at the corner. “Unacceptable.”

Wilhemina scoffed. “And why might that be?”

“You’re scheduled to speak again in ten minutes. You should be prepping your presentation in five.”

She gestured to the space around them, head tilting challengingly. “Hence why I’m using the restroom now.”

A beat. Mildred stared at her, fingers slipping on the strap of her purse. And Wilhemina had only spoken to this woman once, but she had watched her for almost three hours, and then another two during her own lecture. She knew why her fingers twitched. She could read her like a book.

So she took a step forward, tapping her cane out in front of her and leaning on it, just enough to get in Mildred’s space.

“Did you miss me, Millie?” Venable breathed, eyes flicking over Mildred’s face. And she didn’t miss the way the other woman’s breath hitched, body stiffening. “Were you hoping to get me all to yourself for a few minutes?”

Mildred cleared her throat, straightening. “And if I was?”

A smirk.

“Do you have plans for dinner?”

~~~

Mildred had had plans for dinner. Of course she had. Very rarely did her schedule slip away from her, especially so when she was in a strange city around strange people.

But somehow, for some reason, she had changed her plans. For a woman.

Slap. “Disgusting, stupid whore. Is this who you want to become? Disgrace. Pull yourself together.”

Pull yourself together.

Wilhemina set the plate down before her and Mildred shifted in her seat, smoothing her already impeccably placed napkin on her lap.

And only when she finally pulled her eyes off of Wilhemina, sitting down opposite her at the table and propping her cane against the wood, did she realize that this woman was an incredible chef.

The dish was colorful, sausage swimming in pasta and decorated with fresh herbs. She comforted herself in the knowledge that she was eating better here than she would have been at the restaurant where she had reserved a table.

A logical decision.

They ate in silence for a few moments, Mildred fighting the shaking of her hands and trying to come up with a halfway decent conversation starter. But Wilhemina beat her to it.

“Tell me about the war,” she said softly as she twisted her fork in the pasta, looking up at Mildred with such blatant curiosity and innocence that she couldn’t say no. Couldn’t bear to shove that wall up and bark at her and throw out her usual excuses.

Which is how she found herself, almost an hour later, plate nearly empty as she covered her mouth with her fingers, swallowing around a bite that was just a fraction too large.

“No no,” she corrected, taking a sip of water. “It wasn’t the bombs that were distracting. It wasn’t the gunfire. It was the screaming.”

Something flashed in Wilhemina’s eyes and Mildred stuttered, almost convinced she was about to smile. Almost convinced she was about to cry.

“It was constant,” she continued, fingers playing over her fork as the memories flooded back into her mind. The smell of it, the sound. “Poor boys, too young to be fighting. And they never stopped. They never stopped screaming. Eventually you learn to tune it out. You have to. If you focus on them, if you let yourself hear it, everything else breaks away. You have to block it out. Or you lose the order of your surgical tent.”

Wilhemina nodded, swallowing. “Seems impossible.”

But Mildred shook her head again, shocking herself at how forward she was being. At how the words were spilling from her lips. Like she had known this woman for hundreds of years.

She was almost certain that she had, the way Wilhemina’s eyes pierced straight through her every time their gazes met.

“Logic and responsibility. That’s the key.”

And to her surprise, Wilhemina laughed. A full, pretty sound that was too raspy for her own good.

Mildred flushed, taking a long sip of water as Wilhemina spoke.

“No, no. Rules. Clear lines and boundaries. A straight right and a firm wrong. It’s the only way to keep them all in line.”

“You’re wrong,” Mildred stated, matter of fact. And when Wilhemina rose from her seat, she almost flinched.

But she only stalked over, a smirk slicing across her face as she collected Mildred’s plate and walked it over to the sink.

Cool. Calculated. Every one of Wilhemina’s actions had an equal, opposite reaction. They stalked around each other in perfect circles, and halfway through the dance Mildred’s mind was absolutely spinning. This time, she didn’t have a justification. Didn’t have follow-up. She was losing her grip.

The silence was deafening, exacerbated by the tapping of Wilhemina’s heels and the clattering of tableware against porcelain.

And then, just like that, she was back, pulling out the chair directly next to Mildred and settling down into it.

“Most people don’t get the privilege of telling me I’m wrong.”

Her voice had lowered, dangerous and sharp, a snake bite. And Mildred couldn’t help but dig her teeth into her bottom lip. Because this woman was so perfect, and so beautiful, and so intelligent. Sitting before her like it was nothing. Like the heat in Mildred’s cheeks wasn’t creeping down into her fingers and making them itch.

Her eyes flicked down to Wilhemina’s lips before she could help herself, and her fingers dug into her skirt as she watched Wilhemina flick her tongue over them. Wetting them. So slick. So perfectly shaped.

And then Wilhemina’s hand covered hers, skin soft and smooth and tender against Mildred’s.

She looked back into Wilhemina’s eyes, suddenly dark, suddenly entirely too intense. She wasn’t prepared for this. She wasn’t ready. She wanted this more than anything she had ever wanted before in her life.

And she silently thanked whatever gods lay above her for getting her through the war and straight to this moment. Because her entire life would be worth living if Wilhemina would just—

Wilhemina leaned forward, and that was all it took. Just the slightest tilt of her chin. Mildred hadn’t realized how close they had gotten. But then Wilhemina’s mouth was on hers, so firm and yet so, so delicate.

She let her eyes fall closed, let herself sigh into the feel of it. The feel of her. Turned her hand and threaded their fingers together and squeezed because this was all she had wanted. Since the moment that fire-red hair had turned and she had looked up into those deep, brown eyes.

Wilhemina pulled away before Mildred was ready to let go, and she couldn’t help the half-whine that lodged itself in her throat. That she tried so desperately to swallow down.

“Better?” Wilhemina teased, pressing their foreheads together.

She let out a shaky breath, thumbing at Wilhemina’s knuckles. “Infinitely.”

There was a long moment of silence, and Mildred was almost getting accustomed to these spaces, these gaps between their communication where they just let their feelings hang between them. Let their hearts speak without words getting in the way.

Mildred swallowed, licking her lips slowly as she looked up into Wilhemina’s eyes.

“What are the rules now, Ms. Venable?”

Wilhemina hummed, nudging their noses together as her eyes flicked down to Mildred’s lips again. “You relax and let me take care of you.”

A wobbling breath, and Mildred wet her lips again, hands trembling as she leaned into Wilhemina. So close to what she wanted. So close. “And if I say no?”

Wilhemina smirked, hand coming up to Mildred’s throat before moving to brush delicately over her cheek instead. And when she spoke again, her eyes were lidded and she breathed the words almost directly into Mildred’s mouth.

“Now where’s the logic in that, Nurse Ratched?”

~~~

Mildred toed off her shoes. Delicately. Carefully. And Wilhemina watched in awe of the woman before her. Perfectly pristine.

She always strove for perfection. Perfectly presented to the world, perfectly protected. Perfectly hidden. And she had thought she almost had it. But now, watching Mildred, she realized that perfection was far out of her grip. Not when it looked like this.

Wilhemina wasn’t perfectly presented, not compared to the way Mildred took care with every tiny pleat and line and cuff. Down to the perfectly straight earrings. Down to the parallel lines of her stockings that ran up the back of her calves. And Wilhemina certainly wasn’t perfectly protected when Mildred looked at her like that, eyes wide and lips pink as she slowly, purposefully started picking down the buttons on her shirt.

Wilhemina was only and solely perfectly exposed, her heart entirely too vulnerable around a woman that she knew would protect it. Around a part of her that she didn’t know had existed until it had tapped its way up behind her in line and pulled the zipper on the curtain over her heart.

She couldn’t stop watching Mildred. Not when she let her shirt fall to the floor. Not when she unbuttoned the top of her skirt and tugged at the zip, shimmying out of it and letting it pool around her ankles, leaving her in nothing but a thin, silk slip and black pantyhose.

And then she bunched up her slip and rolled them down, Venable’s eyes tracking the way that perfectly straight line up her calf crumpled as she went, bending and morphing as Mildred let her walls down. Let her in. Let Wilhemina see her for who she really was beneath all of that perfection and obsession and compulsivity.

Suddenly it was too much, and Wilhemina simply couldn’t sit on the edge of the bed watching anymore. She needed to touch. She needed all of Mildred pressed against all of her. Every inch. Every piece.

Wilhemina walked up behind her, wrapping her hands around her stomach and pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder before resting her chin there.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Mildred turned, a smile flickering over her lips. She had been so serious when she was undressing, her mouth pulled into a line, eyes flicking between Wilhemina behind her and the mirror before her, her hands pulling over herself to smooth everything down, make sure her hair was still curling down her back, making sure her pins were all in place. But now she looked lighter. Now she looked like she had at the table, open and soft and pliant.

“Show me,” Mildred whispered, and Wilhemina pressed another kiss to her shoulder before shifting her in front of the mirror. Her hands found the pins still holding her hair up, pulling them out slowly as she nipped and bit her way up Mildred’s neck, sucking just a bit to hard at the crook of her jaw.

And Wilhemina couldn’t help but smile as Mildred sighed, her hand reaching up behind her and twisting through Wilhemina’s hair.

Mildred knew when Wilhemina got the last pin out, shaking her hair out and fluffing it almost immediately. And then she turned in Wilhemina’s arms, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as she reached around and pulled the tie from her own hair.

It fell in heaps around her shoulders, and Mildred giggled softly.

Wilhemina’s brow popped, sarcasm pushing through as a weak attempt at self-preservation. “Is something the matter?”

But Mildred only laughed, shaking her head and running her fingers through Wilhemina’s hair.

“Cinnamon sugar,” she murmured, twisting her finger through a lock and admiring it. And Wilhemina felt herself flush against her will.

“I’m almost certain our hair is the same color,” she tried, fingers twitching on Mildred’s waist.

Frustrated. Exposed. Worshipped.

Mildred only shook her head, leaning forward. She hesitated for a brief moment before pressing a soft kiss to Wilhemina’s lips. And suddenly Wilhemina didn’t care if she was giggling or teasing or playing with her hair. As long as she was here. As long as she kept doing that.

“You’re awfully sweet for someone who is supposed to be so intimidating, Ms. Venable.”

Wilhemina scoffed, rolling her eyes before Mildred grabbed at her chin, raking her eyes over her and making a shiver run down her spine.

“Why don’t you take all of that purple off for me, cinnamon? Hm?”

And Wilhemina hated how deeply she flushed, the nickname getting under her skin like it shouldn’t have. But this was Mildred. And somehow, she knew exactly what Wilhemina wanted to hear before she realized it herself.

It only took a few moments, untying the top of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Sliding out of her skirt, peeling her gloves off. And Mildred watched her the entire time, eyes hot as they followed her fingers.

She held out her hands as Wilhemina stepped out of her shoes, keeping her steady. Making sure she didn’t wobble.

And this time, for the first time, Wilhemina completely forgot to feel exposed. She forgot to feel embarrassed about her back. She forgot to warn Mildred.

But when Mildred kissed her again, this time a bit harder and a bit deeper, fingers wrapping up around Wilhemina’s neck and sliding down over her shoulders, over her spine, nothing happened.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t recoil. She didn’t even gasp. She just kept kissing her and kissing her and kissing her, until Wilhemina’s thighs hit the mattress.

Mildred pulled back, breaking the kiss as her teeth dug into her lip, fingers rubbing together absently. Just like they had over her purse. Over her fork.

Wilhemina gave her a small nod, tentatively grabbing for her wrists and guiding them to her stomach.

She didn’t miss the way Mildred’s fingers flexed before she touched her, didn’t miss the glint in her eye as she hesitantly, delicately, grabbed Mina’s waist and pushed her down into the bed.

And the way she touched her, warm palms pressing against Wilhemina’s sides before pulling away almost immediately, and then replacing them in an instant. This time firm. This time sure. This time pushing Wilhemina onto her back and smoothing up her stomach so that nails were pricking at the very bottom of her bra.

Mildred crawled over her, pressing a singular, wet kiss just below Wilhemina’s jaw.

“Millie,” Wilhemina breathed, squirming under her.

“My name is Mildred,” she corrected, and Wilhemina let herself smirk, catching the way Mildred hardened and taking the opportunity to flip the switch yet again.

She hooked a leg over Mildred’s hip, pushing her and flipping them and bracing herself above her.

Mildred gasped, a soft whine pushing out of her as she was slammed back into the mattress. Wilhemina leaned down, nudging their noses together before flicking her tongue out and licking the tip of her nose.

“What are you afraid of, Millie?” Wilhemina breathed, hands sliding slowly up her sides before locking over her ribs and pinning her to the bed. “Is someone losing control?”

She couldn’t help but smirk at her own joke, amplified by the way Mildred’s eyes widened and hardened.

“No. It’s just—“

Wilhemina bit down on her collarbone, cutting her off as she squirmed beneath her. She hummed, pushing her further into the bed.

“Oh no? So you’re fine then, right?”

And after a second’s hesitation she nodded again, hands coming up to smooth out her hair as her eyes bored into Wilhemina’s.

The word “yes” left Mildred’s mouth, but Wilhemina had already seen it in her face. The screaming. The need to dominate. The need to be dominated. The want.

“Millie,” Wilhemina sing-songed, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek. She wasn’t surprised it was warm, the flush already clouding her perfect, porcelain skin. She was surprised that it was scorched, Mildred’s teeth dug into her bottom lip as she watched Wilhemina carefully.

“Let go, darling,” she murmured, nails scraping lightly down Mildred’s sides. “Let me be in charge of you for once, yeah? Let those pretty little walls down. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

~~~

Wilhemina kept saying it. That stupid little nickname. Over and over. She wouldn’t stop, and Mildred couldn’t think. And it was making her furious in the absolute best way.

She was losing control. She had always been so careful. She had always tried her absolute best. But somehow, tonight, she could feel it slipping through her fingers with every kiss, with every gasp, with every moan.

And she was okay.

Her world wasn’t crumbling. Mildred was surviving. And to her surprise, the world seemed to actually sort itself in those small moments, the fractions of seconds where Wilhemina panted that little nickname and Mildred’s body responded of its own accord. Mildred was thriving, Mildred was being loved. Mildred was finally living.

And so she let go.

She twisted her fingers in the sheets, Wilhemina’s name falling off her tongue as she arched into her.

Wilhemina hummed, a nice, satisfied sound, and then she was kissing down her neck, fingers scratching up under her slip, up the inside of her thighs.

Mildred should have wanted to pull away. She should have wanted to clamp her thighs shut and pull her slip down and shove herself up against the headboard. But to her surprise her thighs fell open, and before she knew what she was doing she was lifting her hips off the mattress and reaching down, tugging her slip up over her thighs, up past her stomach.

Wilhemina pulled off of her, for a split second, and Mildred froze. But then she wrapped her hand around Mildred’s and pulled her forward, pulled her up, kissing her temple as she helped slide the slip up over her head. Threw it on the floor.

And then Mildred was completely exposed. Completely vulnerable. Her hands came up to cover herself instinctively, suddenly too cold and too naked without the heat of Wilhemina’s mouth on her neck.

But she was right there, threading their fingers together and pulling her hands back down into her lap.

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” she cooed, and something deflated inside of Mildred. She let out a long breath, squeezing Wilhemina’s hands as she swallowed. And then, in a desperate attempt to gain some kind of control back, no matter how futile, she tried something.

“Touch me, Mina.”

She watched the other woman gasp. Let pride fill her at the pure smile that made tears prick in Wilhemina’s eyes. Traced her thumb over the back of Wilhemina’s hand.

“Mina,” she tried again, suddenly feeling more comfortable with this intimacy. Because now they were both exposed. Equal. Again. Just like they should be.

Wilhemina lunged forward, mouth hot and hungry as she pushed Mildred back against the mattress. And her hands. Her hands. Everywhere, all at once. Like she was trying to memorize the shape of her. Like she needed to touch her or she would disappear. And Mildred understood. Because she had that same ache, the same need within her. If her fingers weren’t on Wilhemina, pulling her tighter to her, pulling her closer, she was absolutely certain that she would vibrate and explode into a billion atoms, right there in the middle of the room.

It suddenly turned so desperate, Mildred just about to beg for Wihemina’s fingers, for more when she felt them brush against her, cold against the heat burning between her thighs.

Wilhemina pulled back, just so, just enough to look her in the eyes. And Mildred pushed all of her emotion, all of her want through, nodding frantically.

“Please—“

But no sooner had she opened her mouth than Wilhemina’s fingers pushed inside of her, filling that space there perfectly and making Mildred finally feel like she was whole.

Wilhemina smirked, and Mildred let out a soft “oh” at the unfamiliarity of it all. The comfort. And then she was moving and Mildred was moving, hips rolling down against Wilhemina’s wrist as she curled her fingers and sped up.

And before she knew what was happening, that heat was building in her stomach, toes curling where her heel dug into Wilhemina’s back. She didn’t know how she had gotten like this, one leg thrown over her shoulder, a hand in Mina’s hair as she pressed kisses to the inside of her thighs while her fingers pumped slowly, gently, intently.

It seemed dirty. It seemed wrong. And Mildred couldn’t have cared less. All she could fathom was that little knot of control, holding onto it as it vibrated, threatened to explode. Gripping into it with her teeth if she had to, clinging to it until that exact moment, the perfect—

It snapped, Mildred scrambling to find purchase on something as she fell through the galaxy Wilhemina had built around her. She knew her mouth was moving. She knew she was probably whining for Wilhemina. But she couldn’t hear anything. Not over Mina’s voice against her skin.

“Yes. That’s it. Perfect. Let go. I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

It took too long for her body to come back to her, for her to regain her grip on reality and grab at some sort of control again.

But as she opened her eyes on Wilhemina between her thighs, brow pushed up as the most beautiful, genuine smile graced her mouth, her perfect mouth, Mildred decided that right now, just for this one moment, she didn’t want control back. She wanted to just be.

“Kiss me,” she breathed, and Wilhemina was right there, mouth pushing insistently against hers. And when Mildred tasted something tangy, something sharp and spicy and unfamiliar, she realized with a start that Mina must have put her mouth on her at some point.

She hadn’t even realized. Hadn’t registered.

She had given herself over completely into Mina’s mercy, and she had never felt so happy. So light. So utterly and completely protected.

A small shuffle, sheets being rucked down, and then Wilhemina was sitting up against the headboard, and Mildred was right there, curling into her side and pressing herself in as close as she could.

She smiled as Wilhemina’s arms wrapped around her waist. Almost possessively.

They laid like that for a moment, Mina’s fingers tracing over her side as silence fell down upon the room, all remnants of Mildred’s screams dissolving into air. And then she finally, finally got her feet back under her.

“I want to take care of you,” Mildred said softly, pressing a kiss just over Wilhemina’s heart. But to her surprise, Wilhemina only shook her head.

Lips against her temple, and then she spoke. “Not tonight, beautiful. We both need to be up early tomorrow.”

Mildred wanted to say that she didn’t care. She wanted to argue and protest and throw something until Mina listened and let her feel her. All of her.

But somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized that she would have to deal with those same men tomorrow, lecturing and commanding and spending too much of her energy trying to keep herself in control. So she nodded. Because they needed sleep if they were going to survive.

“Tomorrow,” she sighed, looking up at Mina with eager eyes. And Wilhemina smiled, pressing another kiss to her temple.

“Tomorrow.”

She curled further into Wilhemina, letting her hands wander just a bit further than they should have, suddenly feeling so entitled to this woman. She had permission to do whatever she liked to her. Just not quite yet.

Wilhemina hummed, pressing one last kiss to the top of Mildred’s head, and then time slowed and the air grew thick as she started to move.

Mildred felt her shift, turning just so and pulling an arm from around her waist as she reached for the lamp by the bed.

“Don’t turn off the light, please. Daddy, please.”

“Why, are you afraid of monsters?”

A nod.

“Oh honey, the only monster you have to be afraid of is standing right here.”

A sickening grin.

"You’re a big girl—“

“I’m not—“

“—you can handle this. Besides. Nothing is going to get you... As long as you don’t make a sound.”

Tears welled in Mildred’s eyes as she watched Wilhemina’s fingers inch closer. And how was she supposed to tell her about this? How was she supposed to explain that this one, tiny thing was her absolute weakness? She almost didn’t. Almost made it. But just as fingers brushed against the lamp, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and she tasted something bitter, bristling.

Time sped up all at once then, Mildred clawing at Wilhemina’s hand and wrapping her fingers tight around her wrist to stop her.

“Wait—“ she tried, but it came out broken and wrinkled.

Wilhemina froze, looking down at her. “Is everything okay?”

And Mildred couldn’t help the tears then, sniffing as they blurred her vision and letting her fingers fall from Wilhemina’s arm.

“Please don’t turn it off just yet,” she tried, and she scolded herself for how weak she sounded.

Unacceptable. Pull yourself together.

Something crossed Wilhemina’s face that she couldn’t read, and her heart dug down deep in her chest as she braced herself.

But then Wilhemina softened, brows raising, just so, as she stroked her thumb over Mildred’s side. A smirk pulled at her lips and she quirked her head.

“My my, Nurse Ratched. Is someone afraid of the dark?”

And the way she said it, almost laughing, simultaneously made Mildred feel like a child being scolded and a woman being loved.

It was a blessing that she had used her title. It had given Mildred that shock to her system to jolt her out of her vulnerable state, building her walls back up as quickly as she could as she formed the searing negation on her tongue.

Of course not. You’re mistaken. Don’t be ridiculous.

But she couldn’t land on one that felt quite right. Because lying didn’t feel quite right. And Mildred told herself, assured herself, that it was only because she hadn’t thought of the perfect logical theorem to support her argument. She wasn’t prepared to have this conversation. Once she found one, she would be back in control and she could right her world back on its feet. And one time, maybe this time, they could turn the light off.

She hadn’t realized how long she had been silent until she felt Wilhemina press a kiss to her hair. Mildred was still staring her down, nose twitching as Wilhemina’s eyes searched her face.

A deep breath, a hard swallow. And then she nodded.

And there it was. That was it. The most open and vulnerable and exposed she had ever been with another person in her life.

And Wilhemina, her Mina, took it in stride, simply humming before threading fingers through Mildred’s curls and pulling her up closer so that she could pepper soft kisses across her face.

“Oh, Millie,” she whispered, and Mildred was shocked to find a gentle smile on her lips.

“It’s childish, I know.”

She shook her head, fingers playing over the edge of her face. “Not to me.”

“You can turn it off once I’m asleep. I just—“

“No. If you prefer it on, we leave it on.” Wilhemina hooked a finger under her chin, tipping it up. “That’s that.”

A sniff. A shaky breath. “Are you certain...?”

“Anything for you.”

And that night, when Mildred closed her eyes and steadied her breathing and melted into the warmth of her lover, she somehow, some way, felt like she had finally found her way home.

~~~

“That’s it, just like that.”

Wilhemina cooed, smirking as Mildred whined and rolled her hips down her thigh. A soft gasp, and Wilhemina tightened her hand in her hair, forcing her head back to expose more of her neck.

“Oh my, Ms. Ratched,” she tried softly, ignoring the way her mouth watered at the sight of her muscles pulling taunt. The way she swallowed.

“Millie,” Mildred gasped, letting out a small cry as Wilhemina latched her mouth to her neck.

She hummed as she nodded, relishing the taste of her when she was unraveling like this. Sticky, hot. So different from that sharp, sweet, clean taste when she was still dressed and still protected and still in charge.

“You’re learning.”

Mildred scoffed beneath her, and Wilhemina had a split second to brace herself before nails were raking up her thighs and up her lower back, Mildred’s hands splaying out and holding her close.

“And you’re going too slow.”

Wilhemina was flipped before she knew what was happening, gasping as Mildred grabbed her shoulders and shoved her down in to the mattress. Hard.

“Millie—“

But Mildred cut her off, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. And when she pulled back she was smiling. Sickly sweet.

“Besides, I thought we had an agreement that I could take care of you tonight, yes?”

Wilhemina’s brow furrowed, the need to top Mildred too intense for her to think of anything else. Until Mildred spoke again, her voice threading through the air, slicing through Wilhemina’s need like a knife.

“Unless you were planning on breaking the rules, Ms. Venable?”

And now it was Wilhemina’s turn to smile, laughing sarcastically as Mildred pinched at her sides until she squirmed.

“Mina,” she corrected over a giggle, biting down on her lip to keep from completely losing herself.

Mildred smirked, cocking her head as she repeated Wilhemina’s words back to her.

“You’re learning.”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Mildred quirked a brow. “Language.”

But Wilhemina was too desperate, reaching for her hands and pushing them down over her hips.

“Now, Millie.”

And when Mildred smirked, nails pricking into Wilhemina’s tender skin there, something caught in Wilhemina’s chest.

Her eyes were razor sharp, lips twitching from a smirk to a smile, back and forth and back and forth. And just when Wilhemina was starting to think she looked almost sickening, she spoke, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. Just out of reach. Just a bit too far.

“Oh now now, cinnamon. You know better than to rush me. I’m in charge tonight. That was the agreement. And I decide when you get my fingers. Understood?”

And Mina found herself nodding.

She was rewarded with a delicate kiss to her lips. Not nearly deep enough and entirely too sweet.

“Just so long as we’re both on the same page.” A moment, a breath spent staring into those predatory eyes. “Now why don’t you spread those pretty legs for me, hm?”

~~~

Mildred combed her fingers through Wilhemina’s hair, laid out so beautifully across her, head in her lap, fingers tracing the bones of her ankles.

Intimacy entangled.

“What did they do..?” Mildred breathed, running her fingers delicately over the morphed skin. A fleeting touch.

Wilhemina drew a slow breath. Calculated. Shaking. “First it was the brace. Screwed in. Stretched.”

“And the appointments for the table?” Mildred asked, her own breath starting to tremble at the idea.

Wilhemina nodded. “Yes.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven,” Wilhemina said softly, gasping as Mildred’s fingers tucked under a soft piece of her spine, bumping along the gaps in her vertebrae.

“And it hurt.”

It wasn’t a question. She knew it had hurt. Especially on someone so young. So pliant and vulnerable.

But Wilhemina didn’t answer, instead plowing ahead. “And then the surgery when I was thirteen.”

Mildred flinched, the images flashing through her mind. She had seen the slides. She knew what they did. Sliced tendons and ligaments. And there was rarely any progress.

“It didn’t work.”

Again, not a question. And this time, as Wilhemina shook her head no, Mildred found what she was looking for. The scars from the screws. Spaced evenly apart, marred by scars from the surgery. Exactly where they should be.

Wilhemina’s breaths stuttered as Mildred’s fingers slid over them, and she found her own breath speeding up at the thought of this woman on a table. So small. So scared. So cold.

“And the tethers?” Mildred asked, running through the typical steps in her head. Trying to remember what she had learned in her training.

But to her surprise, Wilhemina shook her head. She was panting now, and Mildred could feel her chest tightening in response as she trailed her fingers further down, where the spine corrected and compensated and bulged in the opposite direction.

“Electroshock therapy.”

Wilhemina had barely spoken, barely whispered. But Mildred heard her, completely and solely focused on this poor, fragile, broken thing beneath her. And she couldn’t help the way her heart lodged in her throat.

“W-Why?” she asked softly, her thumb brushing absently over a particularly bad scar.

Wilhemina took a deep breath, fingers flexing in the sheets. “There was a time where they thought it would help. A misalignment of the neurotransmitters firing. Especially with younger patients. I was already through puberty. It wouldn’t have made a difference. But I was broken. They were desperate. I was the shame—“

“—shame of your family,” Mildred finished for her. And she surprised herself when a tear fell onto her cheek. A quick swipe of her thumb and it was gone, and she leaned down and pressed a small kiss at the very top of Wilhemina’s spine. “You’re not the only one.”

Wilhemina shifted in her lap, fingers tracing Mildred’s knee as her breaths pulled long and shaky. As they slowed.

Mildred closed her eyes, centering herself. “Did they do the final surgery? With the pins and the staples?”

And she hated herself for how clinical it sounded when she asked. She wanted to be vulnerable. Wanted to be softer. For her.

For her.

But Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind, only shaking her head and sighing, her eyes fluttering closed. “I was pushed out of the house after the shock therapy didn’t work. And by the time I had earned enough of my own money to pay for the surgery, I was too old. It was too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Mildred tried, the motto ringing through her head.

“But it was,” Wilhemina replied, her voice low and raspy. “Even if it would have worked, I was already an adult. I was already... who I was. And I didn’t know who I was without my disability. Without my cane. Without my past and my pain and my perseverance. I’m not myself without this. And I can’t fully be myself with it.”

Mildred hummed, shaking her head softly. Because she knew. Of course she knew. The more she spoke to Wilhemina, the more she was convinced that they were the same person. The same soul, split between two bodies. With the same wants and needs and desires.

Her fingers skimmed down Wilhemina’s spine for what felt like the hundredth time, and suddenly she had this all-consuming need to memorize the exact shape of it. The exact way that it bulged and twisted and dipped. The exact way that this faulty thing kept this woman up and held her on her feet.

Another kiss. A sigh. And then, fingers shaking as they pulled through Wilhemina’s hair, brushing it back from her face.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Stay with me,” Wilhemina breathed, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Mildred’s thigh. And Mildred’s fingers stuttered in her hair as another tear fell, unbidden, onto her cheek.

Because she wanted to. She was pulled tight to this woman, an anomaly of existence, the very piece of her that she had always felt was missing, that she had always been searching for.

But she could never be so irresponsible to leave her home and leave her work and settle in with a woman that she had only known for two days.

“Stupid, idiotic girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Could she?

~~~

She had said no. And Wilhemina had broken right there, exposed and entirely too vulnerable, in her lap.

She had cried herself to sleep that night, curled against Mildred as she cooed and shushed her and stroked delicate fingers through her hair.

And when she woke in the morning, filled with the smell of Mildred and the feel of Mildred and the taste of Mildred still on her tongue, everything seemed a bit grey.

They made breakfast, speaking politely and laughing occasionally. Always broken, always half-formed. Got dressed and ready for the day, separately. Dolled themselves up in different types of armor—pantyhose, gloves, skirts, glasses.

And then Mildred left.

And then, she came back.

It was like the universe couldn’t fathom them being apart, a rip torn through their plane of existence when Mildred boarded her train and went back home, clear across the country.

Wilhemina hadn’t gone with her to the station, but she could feel when she left the city, when she left the state. It was a series of ties being broken, strings snapping in her chest as each one was pulled to breaking and eventually gave out.

Except the last one. The one that left a buzzing in Wilhemina’s ear, a ringing every time her cane tapped down that sounded so awfully close to the way Mildred sighed just as she was about to orgasm. The way she hummed, barely audible, when they kissed.

That tie remained. And one day, almost three months later, it got hotter.

Wilhemina had been making dinner, listening to the television drone on as she stirred her pasta in the pot, when her chest warmed. It was so sudden and so all-consuming that she almost dropped her tongs, Mildred’s name pounding through her head on a loop.

She had known what was coming before it did. She could sense her presence. Could practically see her smoothing down her skirt and running a finger over the brim of her hat as she walked up Wilhemina’s drive.

But the knock on the door — soft, three times — had still made Wilhemina jump, a lump of emotion lodging in her throat as she grabbed for her cane and walked slowly to the front door.

She knew it was her. Deep down, she knew it in her soul. They were tied together, whether Wilhemina liked it or not. But there was still that tiny, nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her not to get her hopes up. That wishing only led to disappointment.

Until she opened the door, heart pounding, and saw Mildred Ratched standing perfectly straight on her doorstep, a singular suitcase in hand.

“Millie,” Wilhemina breathed, like she needed confirmation. Like she was seeing a ghost.

Mildred swallowed, the smallest of smiles pushing at her lips.

“I was transferred to an institution not far from here,” she said softly, pointing absently behind her before ducking her head against her blush.

But Wilhemina caught it. She caught everything with this masterpiece.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of living in this city and...” She cleared her throat, fingers fidgeting with the handle of her suitcase. “And being apart from you.”

And just as Wilhemina glanced past her at the taxi sitting idle in the street, Mildred looked up, eyes glassy and almost vibrating with emotion.

“Does your offer still stand?”

Wilhemina had to physically bite the inside of her cheek to keep tears from her eyes, her fingers itching and playing on the top of her cane accordingly.

“Are the rest of your bags in the taxi?” Wilhemina asked, trying not to focus on the way Mildred’s chin was trembling. Trying not to hear the pounding in her head to kiss her.

Mildred nodded, and then Wilhemina was moving past her. A gloved hand skimmed over Wilhemina’s shoulder as she passed, just fleeting enough to be a tap.

“I haven’t paid the driver yet, I—“

But Wilhemina turned, and the angle was exactly like the first time she had walked past her in that stuffy university. But this time, the setting sun was glinting off of Mildred’s hair and there was a hope in her eyes, an intimacy that had Wilhemina’s hand tightening on her cane to keep her balance.

“You go inside,” she started, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. “Make yourself comfortable, set your things down. I’ll retrieve the rest of your bags and take care of the cab fare.”

It’s the least I can do, for him bringing you back to me.

Not even five minutes later, Mildred’s luggage was stacked in the foyer and the cab was driving away as Wilhemina stalked back up the short walk to her door.

She had expected Mildred to be sitting at the dining table, or putting her things in the bedroom. But to her surprise, when she closed the door, locked it safely behind her, and turned, Mildred was standing in the middle of her entryway, still holding tight to her suitcase and watching Wilhemina with sharp eyes.

Wilhemina tapped her cane, swallowing, and she didn’t miss the way Mildred’s eyes flicked to it.

And then, just like that, Mildred dropped her suitcase and practically ran to Wilhemina, gloved hands pulling her face down, pulling their mouths together.

Wilhemina let herself moan, tears instantly pricking her eyes at the memory of how good this felt. How right. And then Mildred’s hands were on her waist and she was pushing her back against the door. Hard.

“I missed you so much, Mina,” she breathed between kisses, peppering them over Wilhemina’s cheeks and down her jaw.

And then the tears did fall, because she had missed Mildred, too. So, incredibly much. More than she would have missed the air she breathed, the food she ate. More than she had ever missed anyone or anything in her entire life.

Her soul had been ripped from her, torn away and shipped off across the country. And now it was back, and with every kiss, they sewed themselves back together.

Stitch by stitch. Piece by piece.

~~~

She crowned herself with her nurse’s hat, pinning her hair back carefully around it and buttoning it up in the back. Wilhemina watched her. Watched the way she stood a bit straighter. Watched the way her feet came together and she shifted her weight, perfectly even. Perfectly level.

Wilhemina walked over, drawn to her like a magnet. And her cane clicked as she went, tapping down beside her and forcing a smirk to curl Mildred’s lips as she glanced at Wilhemina in the mirror.

She walked right up to her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling Mildred back against her chest as her mouth found her ear.

“You look impeccable, darling.”

Mildred quirked a brow, eyes like daggers as they bored into Wilhemina from the mirror. She hummed.

“Almost good enough to eat.” Wilhemina pressed a kiss to her jaw, letting her eyes rake over Mildred’s perfect neck, the way it quivered as she swallowed, the shine of her hair pulled up in impeccable fashion just above her collar. She fingered the fabric there, letting her nails scrape over the soft skin just below her ear.

“Why don’t you take a bite, hm?” Mildred’s voice caught as Wilhemina’s nail pricked against her pulse point, and when she spoke again it was low, raspy. Dangerous. “See what happens.”

Wilhemina growled, leaning forward and tugging her earlobe between her teeth. She pulled Mildred flush against her, hand splaying out on her stomach. And Mildred gasped as her fingers found Wilhemina’s thigh, nails piercing the fabric. Wilhemina felt her swallow down a moan, tense, stutter. And then there was a long breath and a shaky sigh, and the nails in Wilhemina’s leg retracted as Mildred pulled away.

“I can’t be late for my first day of work, dear.”

She brushed down her dress, straightening out that perfectly pinned crown and putting the finishing touches on her hair.

And then, before Wilhemina could blink, Mildred wrapped her slender fingers around her tie and pulled her forward, dragging her out of the bedroom and through the house to the front door.

A disapproving tap of her cane, a small frown, and then Mildred had her purse and pressed a soft kiss to Wilhemina’s cheek, skirting out the door with a dark, “See you tonight, cinnamon.”

And she almost felt like it was a threat.

~~~

Wilhemina had never known love.

She had told Mildred flat out over dinner one night when traumas and pasts and fears were all laid bare on the table.

Mildred was different. She had known it and lost it. Seen people shattered beyond repair because of it. And she had put up those brick and mortar walls around her heart so that she couldn’t feel that kind of sadness ever again.

Yet somehow, every night that she came home to Wilhemina’s arms and her small smile and her absolute and complete honesty, she felt those walls start to fall. Little by little, brick by brick. And every morning when she awoke in her lover’s arms, after breakfasts shared and dressed zipped and buttoned, she had to rebuild it. Fortify herself for the world that lay just outside their door. The evil of it. The hurt.

It became all-consuming, this uneasy thought of love. It permeated every minute of her waking day, and haunted her dreams like some sort of cruel, intangible thing. But she always woke in Wilhemina’s arms. Safe and protected and entirely too vulnerable.

And one day, one tiny day that should have been absolutely nothing, Mildred was so consumed with the inkling of possibility of falling entirely too hard in love with Wilhemina, and what that meant for her future in this world, that she lost herself. Faltered, for a moment. Had to do up the buttons of her uniform twice before getting them to align. And forgot her lunch as she grabbed her purse and walked out the door.

~~~

It wasn’t unusual for Mildred to leave for work before Wilhemina did. It wasn’t unusual that she left for work before Wilhemina was even awake and out of bed.

At first it had scared Wilhemina, waking up alone and cold in a bed that had been so comforting and warm just hours before. Abandoned. Forgotten.

But Mildred had only been in the kitchen, cracking her eggs with such precision that Wilhemina had almost decided right then and there never to touch another egg again.

It just so happened that Mildred’s mornings got earlier just as Wilhemina’s nights got longer, the flex and pull of their schedules only crossing at certain points. A whirlwind of a double helix in flux.

Those days, Mildred would slip out of bed so quietly that Wilhemina wouldn’t even notice, usually awoken by the inevitable cold of an empty bed, rather than some sound from the bathroom or clattering from the kitchen.

Today had been no different. Today had been routine. Until Wilhemina opened the refrigerator almost three hours after Mildred had gone, only to find her lunch sitting packed and abandoned on the second shelf.

It wasn’t even a thought, the decision to take it to her. Just an action. The institution was on her way to work — well, almost on her way — and Wilhemina was already running early. It was nothing.

Until it wasn’t.

Wilhemina picked through the patients that crowded the common room, pursing her lips against the disgusted expression that was forming against her will. She stepped carefully, cane tapping lightly as she watched where she was going. The facility was impeccable, but this space, so unlike the hall, belonged to the patients. Not the nurses. Blankets were left forgotten on the ground, and shoes had been kicked off. And Wilhemina was just uncomfortable enough to worry about losing her footing.

She made it all the way to the other side of the room, coming up on a window like a sanctuary, before she realized that Mildred wasn’t here.

But just as the thought crossed her mind and she leaned forward to peer outside, Wilhemina heard her.

It was easy enough. The rooms were lavish, but mostly tile, and Mildred’s voice tended to carry, no matter how soft. But right now, it was hard. Harder than Wilhemina had ever heard it.

“I don’t care if he won’t take it, he needs it. If he doesn’t take his medicine, then not only will it put everyone else here at risk, but how soon can we expect them all to start refusing their medication? They need it, Betsy. They don’t know what is good for them. We know what is best.”

Wilhemina turned from the window, Mildred’s lunch clutched between gloved fingers. And Mildred must have noticed the movement, because she looked up. But just as Wilhemina let her guard down and offered a small smile, fingers twitching in a half wave, Mildred’s face melted, something like humiliation flushing through her perfect complexion as she marched straight to Wilhemina.

Shit.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing here?” Mildred whispered, gripping her fingers into Wilhemina’s elbow and pulling her back across the room to the nurse’s station.

“You forgot your lunch,” Wilhemina tried, keeping her voice down. Because somehow this was what wasn’t allowed. This was what was compromising.

A lunch.

Mildred’s humiliation shifted to horror, glancing for maybe the first time down at Wilhemina’s hands.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t understand what the issue is, Nurse Ratched.” Wilhemina made sure to drag out her title. Just a bit too loud. Because she couldn’t seriously be upset with her for trying to be kind. For trying to do the right thing. She couldn’t possibly—

Mildred’s eyes narrowed before she glanced behind her. And when she spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“Go set that down over there.” She indicated to a desk in the corner of the room. “And then go back to work before you screw something else up.”

A flat laugh fell out of Wilhemina almost before she could help it, fingers tightening on the bagged lunch. And before she knew what she was doing, she had shoved it into Mildred’s hands, leaning in impossibly close as she growled.

“Go set it down yourself.” She tapped her cane, too hard. Too loud. A few of the patients covered their ears. “You can be certain that this is the last time I ever do you any favors. Do you understand?”

Mildred’s nostrils flared, and her fingers twitched over the bag. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

And then Wilhemina straightened, nose twitching as she quirked her brow. “And let’s hope you never need it again.”

And then she was gone, breezing past Mildred before she said something else and the tears sticking in Wilhemina’s throat pushed up and fell.

She heard the bag crunch as she hit her cane on the floor, propelling herself forward, one step after the other, closer and closer to the exit. And she hated the way she hoped for Mildred’s voice to ring out, to call her back.

She almost looked back over her shoulder, a moment of weakness that she couldn’t afford. So she ducked her head instead, plowing ahead and storming down the hallway. Out the doors. All the way down the stairs to the street.

She fumed in the taxi, fumed all the way to her desk. Fumed for the next nine and a half hours that she sat at work, fingers picking at her typewriter as she swiveled back and forth in her chair, digging and twisting her cane into the weak wood floors as she ran over arguments and words to spit at her Mildred. Her Mildred. Nurse Ratched.

They weren’t the same woman. But neither was she. How could she be?

By the time Jefferson came to get her, going over final plans for the next day and collecting her paperwork, she had dug a nice little dent into the floor.

Small, deep. A bullet hole kneaded slowly and steadily. Just like the one Mildred’s words had worn into her heart.

~~~

“You wouldn’t like it if I showed up at your place of work without warning, would you?” Mildred’s voice was steady, arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t—“

“Would you?”

Wilhemina’s cane hit the ground. “Stop that. Don’t treat me like you treat them. Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what? I’m just asking a simple question. The answer is either yes, or no.”

“Mildred, stop shrinking me.”

“You think I’m trying to control you?”

“No,” Wilhemina growled, stalking over to her as the last of her patience wore through. “I know you’re trying to control me. And you know that that’s not how this relationship works.”

She bent over Mildred, practically panting, and Mildred was shocked when a pang of regret shot through her. But then something hardened, because no. Wilhemina didn’t get to win this one. She had come to her office out of the blue. Could have exposed them. Put them both in danger.

Because Mildred had been careless. Forgotten her lunch. All for being so consumed with the idea of—

Mildred tipped her chin up, eyes hard as they met Wilhemina’s fiery ones. She stood her ground.

“Apologize.”

Wilhemina set her jaw. “No.”

She leaned up on her toes, leveling their height. “Apologize.”

Wilhemina shook her head slowly, eyes narrowing as her nose twitched. As her jaw set.

And then there were hands on Mildred’s shoulders and Wilhemina’s mouth was on hers, hard and fast and furious as she pushed her back, back, back, slamming her hard against the wall.

“Fuck,” Mildred hissed, and then Mina broke from her, mouth on her ear as she purred.

“Language.”

She scoffed, shoving at her, needing her off of her so that she could breathe. Think. Because when her hands were on her like this, and she was breathing like this, quick and ragged and right behind her ear, Mildred’s mind only comprehended one thing.

“Mina,” she tried, nails digging in as Wilhemina pulled her off the wall for a split second, only to throw her back against it again. She cried out, something hard knotting over her heart.

So this was how it was going to be? Fine.

Mildred lunged forward, kissing Wilhemina sloppily, desperately. Any way she could hold on to some semblance of control.

And she gasped, just as Mildred knew she would. So she took the opening, gripping hard into her waist and pushing her off, before her nails raked down Wilhemina’s arm and her fingers closed around her wrist.

Mildred pulled, yanking Wilhemina after her, across the living room, around the sofa. Down the short hallway, pulling harder every time Wilhemina tried to plant her feet. Until she threw her into the bedroom, Mina practically spinning around and pinning Mildred against the wall, the door jam digging into her spine.

She cried out, hands flying to Wilhemina’s shoulders. Clawing at her. Grappling for something to hold her down and hold her steady so she could get her advantage back.

“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Wilhemina growled, biting hard on Mildred’s neck. But no. She didn’t get to win.

So she pushed, hard, and sent Mina stumbling back. And Mildred was right there, stalking after her and shoving again, and this time, when Wilhemina stumbled, she landed hard on the bed.

Mildred was over her in seconds, panting as she crushed her mouth back against Wilhemina’s, tongues fighting as their teeth clashed. Her fingers found buttons and she yanked, the rip cutting through the room.

She didn’t even wait for Wilhemina to shrug the shirt off, fingers already dug into the waistband of her skirt and rucking it down, down, down.

She got it down around her ankles, but as she braced herself on Mina’s knees and pulled herself back up, Wilhemina’s hand found her chin, pulling her in for a bruising kiss and holding her firm as her free hand flicked open the buttons on her shirt, one by one, so fast it should have been impossible.

“Get your shirt off,” Mildred panted, hands scrambling to find purchase on Mina as she crawled up on the bed and straddled her.

But Mina pulled back, a smirk like death making her eyes go black.

“Ladies first.”

And that was the last straw. Mildred’s patience had already been tested from the ordeal this morning, amplified by the unexpectedness of Wilhemina showing up at her work. That stupid, thoughtful way she brought her the forgotten lunch. The tiny wave. Like she cared. Like she—

Mildred growled, practically a scream as she grabbed Wilhemina’s shoulders and shoved her down until she was swallowed by the mattress. Splayed a hand out over her chest to keep her pinned. Keep her down.

She could feel Mina’s heart hammering, could feel how fast she was panting. Gasping.

Nails clawed at her arm, dragging down as Mildred cried out. There would be blood soon. She knew that feeling.

But then Wilhemina pulled her hand from her chest, twining their fingers hard and pressing hot, wet, quick kisses down over the already reddening marks. Yanked her fingers back. Licked. Right over her palm.

Mildred moaned, the feeling going straight to her core, and then her hands were in Wilhemina’s hair and she was pulling her neck taunt to get better access. So she could bite and suck and mark her for everyone to see.

She sat up on her knees, gaining leverage. And Mina’s hands were on her ass in an instant, kneading. Hard.

“Logic would imply that I shouldn’t let you touch me until you apologize,” Mildred managed, back to base form as she leaned into Mina’s hands. As she moaned into her neck.

Her teeth dug into a particularly sensitive spot, pinching the already flushed skin. And just as Mina gasped, just as she thought she’d won, Mina’s hands fell to her thighs, the world spun, and she was on her back. And Mina’s hand was wrapped tight around her throat.

“No more talking,” she growled, her free hand scraping roughly down Mildred’s stomach, under the band of her skirt, and straight between her thighs.

“Fuck, Mina,” Mildred gasped, the words melting into a groan as her thumb slid over her underwear.

Wilhemina shoved her further into the bed, fingers tightening. And Mildred’s vision blurred at the edges as she gasped for breath.

Perfect. Delicious. Exactly what she wanted.

No talking. Only feeling. Only Wilhemina.

But then Mina spoke, voice hot by her ear.

“I said no talking. I don’t want another word out of you until you’re ready to apologize.”

She pushed her underwear aside on the last word, slipping two fingers easily inside. Mildred cried out, hands grabbing for the arm braced on her throat and holding on tight as her hips started rocking of their own accord.

“Apologize for what,” she panted, eyes screwing shut as Mina curled her fingers.

A flat laugh. A squeeze to her throat. Heat pooling between her thighs.

“For making an entire scene just because I brought you your lunch. Because I took time out of my day to make sure you were taken care of.”

Mildred was slammed back into the mattress again.

“What does your logic say about that, Nurse Ratched?”

There were tears pricking at Mildred’s eyes now, because she wouldn’t break. She wouldn’t. But Wilhemina’s fingers picked up their pace, and then her mouth was on hers, and Mildred knew exactly what was coming.

Mina bit down on her lip. Hard. Yanked at it, pulling until Mildred whimpered.

“Apologize,” she growled, fingers twisting and curling and nails pricking against Mildred’s throat.

Mildred barely had the competence to shake her head no, but she managed it. Because as loud as her body was screaming with a need for more, for so much more of this woman, her brain wouldn’t let her.

The rational part of Mildred’s brain kept the words stuck down in her throat, pounding that she didn’t need to say them. That this wasn’t her fault. That she had only been protecting herself. But the sentimental part kept pushing them back up again, harder and harder the longer Mildred stared at Wilhemina, eyes dark and predatory and so filled with hurt.

“I’m not letting you come until you apologize,” Wilhemina scolded, nails scratching over Mildred’s throat as her fingers moved faster, harder. Her thumb brushed over her clit.

Mildred sobbed, entire body vibrating with the beg for release.

It almost felt like she was choking, the way she was swallowing the words down, only for them to get stuck again. Suffocate her.

Wilhemina shook her head softly, holding Mildred’s eye contact like a lifeline as the smallest smile graced her lips. An angel above her. Salvation.

And that was it. Mildred broke for the millionth time with this woman, relinquishing control.

Letting go.

Her orgasm hit her without Mina’s permission, shaking through her body and sending lightning down her spine. And the words were pulled from her just before her vision went black, hands twisting on Mina’s arm and toes curling hard in the sheets.

“I lo-ove you.”

She didn’t realize that she hadn’t apologized, the wrong words coming out of her, until she blinked her vision back and saw Wilhemina’s wide eyes, clarity piercing through whatever hurt and determination had been there just moments before.

And then Mildred realized why the words had burned so hot in her throat. It wasn’t an apology. It was the truth. The reason. The explanation of why she had behaved the way she did and why she had lashed out. Why she had felt so scared and vulnerable that she couldn’t emotionally handle seeing Wilhemina somewhere she didn’t expect her.

She wanted to apologize then, wanted to take them back. Because she had let herself slip. Again. And all it seemed to be doing was causing more trouble. She wasn’t tampering anything down, she was spinning the world further and further out of control. Unthreading her reality and watching the picture unravel before her eyes.

“How do you always seem to mess everything up?”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Everything you touch turns to dust. How is that even possible? You should win some sort of prize for screwing this many things up. I swear.”

Wilhemina’s hand over hers brought her back, the air deathly still as Mildred’s voice rang off the walls. Over and over and over.

She met Wilhemina’s eyes, heart still hammering in her chest as she fought to regulate her breathing. To calm herself down. It had always been so easy. Why was it so difficult now?

“Does that scare you...?” Mina asked softly, shifting over her as her gaze burned through Mildred.

Before she knew what she was doing, she nodded. Because it did. She did.

And Wilhemina matched her, nodding in time. “It scares me, too.”

At that she did apologize, a soft “I’m sorry” falling from her lips in a last desperate attempt to calm the situation. To salvage the last piece of anything. To pull control back down over herself.

But Wilhemina only shook her head, a softness in her eyes that Mildred had never seen before.

“Don’t apologize.”

And then that heavy silence. So familiar. So comfortable. Give their souls space. Let them figure it out.

The words would come when they were ready.

Wilhemina sniffed, tracing her thumb over Mildred’s cheek. “Do you remember when I told you that I had never known love?”

And Mildred nodded again, finding herself unable to do anything else with the way Mina was staring at her. Eyes glittering. Galaxies.

“I’m not sure that’s true anymore,” she whispered, gaze falling to Mildred’s mouth. Across the ages and spaces and miles between them. It could only have been inches now. “I don’t think it’s been true for a while.”

Mildred let the words swim around her, furnishing her sanctuary here, pressed into a bed underneath Wilhemina. Locked in orbit, pulled in tight and unable to do anything but stare.

She startled as a tear fell onto her cheek, swiping at it quickly as she sniffed. Came back to the present. The room fell back into place.

And then her world, her life, her eternity, her Wilhemina kissed her.

“My beautiful Millie,” she murmured, kissing her until she couldn’t breathe. Until the world swam again, this time for a completely different reason, happiness and joy threading through her and pouring like stardust in her veins.

“Yours.”

~~~

“Shall we?”

Mildred threaded her arm through Wilhemina’s, pushing her hair up and letting her fingers ghost over the rim of her hat.

“I’d love nothing more, Ms. Venable.”

And the way that they walked together, their steps perfectly in time, Wilhemina’s cane tapping as she moved forward steadily, one foot after the other, matched with Mildred’s calculated walk, the way her feet barely crossed and she was almost pigeon-toed, like she was strutting down a runway.

It should have been illegal, just after the war. It should have been frowned upon. But the power that flowed off of them when they were arm in arm like this, the way Mildred’s heart swelled and her chin tipped up and she managed to physically look down on everyone in her path, had people scattering like rats as their heels clicked along the tile.

And the entire night, everyone at Wilhemina’s office party steered more than clear of them. Hushed whispers behind their backs had Wilhemina’s hands skirting just a bit too far down Mildred’s hips as she took small sips of her champagne, setting her gloved fingers itching and her thighs pressing together under her perfectly asymmetrical skirt.

And Mildred made it a point to turn her head, just so, and whisper in Wilhemina’s ear whenever she was mid-conversation with her coworkers. Sometimes it was nothing. Sometimes it was filthy.

But either way, she knew just the breath on Wilhemina’s ear was enough to make her pulse run a bit quicker.

And sure enough, before dinner was even served, Wilhemina had made some sort of excuse and the two of them were running from the taxi, through the rain, and huddling together on the porch as Mina dug for her key.

That night was her favorite night.

Both of them soaked to the bone, sharing over-poured glasses of wine, half-dressed and drying out in front of the fireplace.

And when Wilhemina gave her that smile, that particularly fond smile where her cheeks pushed up and her eyes softened, Mildred pushed her tongue into her cheek, fighting her own grin.

They kissed until the fire burnt out, embers barely flickering in the black room. And just as the last of the light died, Mildred and Wilhemina sticky and naked and curled together on the floor, Wilhemina made to get up.

Mildred’s hand on her arm stopped her, and she snuggled further against her to keep her still.

“No light tonight,” she said softly. And she meant it.

She wasn’t frightened. Not now. Not anymore.

“Millie?”

And Mildred let herself smile as she nodded. Because she had never been more certain of anything than she was of loving Wilhemina in this moment, and of letting herself be loved in return. Letting herself go.

The world wasn’t logical. The world wasn’t ordered. Not when it came to her. Wilhemina had come in and spun her right out of control. And she kept doing it. Over and over again. Like it was a game.

Maybe it was.

And as Mildred leaned forward, capturing Mina’s lips in a languid kiss and humming contentedly, she realized that she was absolutely fine losing, if it meant that she got to have this.

Tag List: @shineestark @duchessfics @darling-dontforgetme @midnight-lestrange @nerdaroo @thatgirlintheleatherjacket

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sweet-barnes · 5 years ago

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Those Heels - b.b

Pairing: Bucky x tall!Reader (modern au)

Summary: You found your family in university and they had never left your side, and even after all these years the ‘surprise’ birthday parties are still going strong. Bucky finally decided it’s the right night to go after the girl.

A/N: i’m really bad with summaries, i apologise for whatever that is lmao thank you to @invisibleanonymousmonsters and @writingsoftheloser for helping out with ideas/concepts when writing a tall!reader, i appreciate it💕

You were grateful for your friends, there was no denying that. They were such a big part of your life since the day you had met, you knew you would be a completely different person altogether without them.

It had all started at university, in the student accommodation where you were all put on the same floor by some miracle. You met Natasha first, you had walked into your assigned room and she was already laying out paint samples ready for decorating. You knew from then on you were going to be in trouble with her. It wasn't long before she was introducing you to the rest of her group, and there was a lot of them.

The girls were in the rooms that surrounded you, so you naturally met them first. Wanda, Nakia, Peggy and Okoye were the sweetest bunch you had ever met and you instantly felt part of their little family.

Next were the boys, all which you met at the party that was thrown at Tony's house. Natasha had explained to you on the way that he was the ‘rich one’ so he refused to stay in student digs. Instead residing in his dad’s mansion near the university and one of his many expensive cars in every day.

Once you arrived at his place, you were blown away. You had only seen houses like these in passing, never did you think you would be invited to a party in one. The huge windows indented in the pristine white walls showed off the colourful lights inside and the masses of people who were already in there.

The music could be heard thrumming from outside and as you all piled out of the car, you were pulled towards the entrance by Wanda.

Inside is where you met the rest of your family, unbeknownst to them. From Steve Rogers to Peter Quill, T'Challa to Tony Stark. There were so many people, you didn't think you could keep track of them all, but now you knew them like the back of your hand.

The one person who definitely stuck in your mind was the one brooding in the corner. His fluffy dark hair and his piercing blue eyes took your breath away as soon as you were introduced to him.

Bucky Barnes had your heart from the moment you set eyes on him, but that dream was soon shattered by the small blonde that sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and placing her head against his arm.

You knew from then on you never stood a chance with him, and the countless other girls he introduced to the group just clarified that. You gave up on that dream quickly, promising yourself you wouldn't get too close to him for your heart to break.

Very soon after that, you may have let your secret crush on him slip to the girls. Of course they freaked out but you soon shot them down, not wanting them to get your own hopes up for something that wasn't going to happen. The way you said "he only likes small girls" gave away to them how you really felt and they tried their hardest to make you see it from their view, but it was no use.

They were all so petite, yet so strong and powerful in the way they held themselves. They would never understand how you felt within yourself. It wasn't that you didn't think you were strong and powerful, you knew as a woman you had your place in this world to do your bit for the better. You just weren't petite like them. You were at least a head taller and you felt like you didn't belong.

Despite the sharing your insecurities one drunken night at fresher’s, the girls never let go of you. Your friendship with them, even though it was only 5 days old at the time, was too precious for them to lose. That still stood 11 years later.

You placed the jumpsuit in front of your body, looking it up and down in the mirror before throwing it back down on the bed. "Are you excited?" Natasha asked as she walked into the room, a black body con dress hugging her body. You let out a groan, plopping back onto your bed. "Am I ever excited for one of Tony's parties?"

Tony was still rich, of course he was, he was a genius. His habit of having parties at every possible opportunity had never wavered, and birthday's were no exception to that rule. A 'surprise' birthday party was thrown every year for everyone within the group, even though all of you knew it was coming, it was like clockwork.

Everyone else loved it, you on the other hand, would rather be curled up on the sofa with a tub of Ben and Jerry's watching Netflix. You couldn't exactly avoid this one, it was your birthday and this party was especially for you.

The girls had taken you shopping earlier that day, which had already set your anxiety off. You hated clothes shopping and even though they tried their hardest to get you to buy a nice dress for the evening, you still arrived home with a jumpsuit, a classic look for you. There was no way you were going to a party that you were already uncomfortable with and making that worse with a dress.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it once you get there," Natasha sat next to you and that's when you noticed the gift bag in her hand. "Nat, I told you I didn't want anything," you gave her a look before flitting your eyes down to the sparkly bag, curious to see what was inside.

"I know but I couldn't not get my best friend something for her birthday, and it's a bit of a risky present if I'm honest but I would really appreciate it if you maybe wore them tonight?" Your mind was all over the place trying to think of what it could possibly be. Natasha pushed the bag towards you and you didn't waste any time in pulling out the tissue paper to reveal what was inside.

You lifted the shoes out, or should you say heels, and turned them slightly to inspect them. "Do you like them?" Natasha whispered next to you, leaning in slightly. They were black, thick straps along the top and around the ankle, with a small chunky heel and a slight platform.

They were pretty, you couldn't deny it, and they were just your style. "Yes," you breathed out. Without thinking, you shooed Natasha out, telling her you would be two minutes before changing into your outfit and putting on the shoes.

You stared at your figure in the mirror, the jumpsuit hugging in at your waist and stopping just above your ankles, showing off the straps on the heels perfectly. There was a slight plunge neckline, showing off your chest just enough that you didn't feel completely ridiculous.

"Oh my god," that was when you heard the murmuring from the doorway and you turned to see all your girls stood there, mouths dropping at the sight of you.

"You look gorgeous!" Wanda squealed, making everyone laugh. Every one joined in with the compliments and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks at all the attention you were getting.

"Don't we have a party to get to?" You questioned, attempting to stop the onslaught of comments. It worked in your favour and soon, you were all piling into a taxi, making your way to another of Tony's mansions.

You felt the base through the floor as you stepped in through the double doors. You looked around at the familiar faces, shooting back a thank you every time someone greeted you with a 'happy birthday.' Most of these people were just acquaintances, people your group had met along the way and had been nice enough to be invited to one of the parties.

To be honest, Tony just liked having a lot of people at his parties.

You all weaved your way through the crowds of people, picking up your drinks in the kitchen and making your into one of the large back rooms. Every one you knew and loved was in there and as soon as they saw you, a chorus of happy birthday's was shouted in your direction.

You couldn't help the giggle that erupted from you as you went in to give everyone a hug, all their grips strong on you as they pulled you into them. "You're getting old now," Sam joked, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his side. You gasped, "hey, that's rude," you gave him a light slap on his chest before laughing along with him.

You looked around at the small circle your friends had formed, consisting of Natasha, Nakia, Steve, Sam and Bucky. Your eyes scanned them all, taking in the joyous looks on their faces before your eyes landed on Bucky.

Your heart leapt as you locked eyes with him, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked you up and down.

A wave of self-consciousness fell over you and you felt yourself retreating slightly into Sam's side. You sent Bucky a quick smile before looking back at Steve to try and concentrate on the story he was telling.

And the night went on like that. Flitting between different groups of your friends, trying not to feel out of place.

You had noticed a few glances from people as you were taking photos, especially with the girls. It was now just natural for you to bend your knees slightly when taking selfies with them, you had been doing it since you had first met but clearly other people weren't used to it. You tried to ignore them the best you could but with the more alcohol you consumed, the more irritating it became.

You were at the bar again, ordering another drink when you felt the presence of someone beside you. Their musky vanilla smell hit you, and you recognised it instantly.

"You look really good tonight, Y/N." His voice was husky and you could tell he'd been drinking. You looked to your side, taking in his sculpted face next to you. "Do you not have some small blonde with you tonight?" You attempted to joke but you truly meant it. Bucky chuckled, "not this time, got my eye on someone else."

You rolled your eyes, taking the drink that had just been placed in front of you, not saying anything else.

"I noticed you were wearing heels, that's a-" Bucky was cut of by a sharp "hey." You both turned to see Nakia stood behind you, a stern look directed straight at Bucky. She was the wrong person to mess with and clearly Bucky had pissed her off.

"You do not say anything about her heels, do you understand Barnes?" She pointed a finger at him, nudging him slightly and the bewildered look on his face nearly made you laugh. "What? I wasn't going to say anything-" She cut him off again. "I heard you, James," you took the opportunity to sneak away, hearing their voices fading as Bucky was trying to defend himself against her.

If there was anyone that would stick up for you, Nakia was the best for it, everyone listened to her and they didn’t dare try to disagree. You slipped out onto the balcony, grateful for the cool evening air against your hot skin. You took another sip of your drink and the alcohol burned slightly as it went down.

Of course it was Bucky who would point out the heels. He just couldn't help himself. For someone who was so good with the ladies, he definitely didn't know how to talk to one. Or talk to you at least.

The door behind you slid open, letting out the loud music before muting it again as it closed. "Y/N?" Bucky's voice was soft and you turned to meet his nervous stance. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said back there, Nakia explained it and I really didn't mean it to come across any type of way," his was wringing his hands together as he looked at you.

You let out a sigh, "it's okay, Buck, I know you didn't mean any harm." His womaniser demeanor was gone as he moved to stand next to you. A moment passed before he spoke again, "I was going to say you look really hot actually," chuckling at himself.

Your heart stopped, questioning whether he really just said that. "And I'm not just saying that to sleep with you, I know you think I'm like that sometimes but I wouldn't do that to you."

You eventually found your voice, looking into Bucky's hopeful eyes as he tried to read your thoughts. "I'm not like any other girl you've ever been with Bucky, why now?" There was a shift in the way he looked at you before he looked down.

"Since the first day I met you at Tony's party, 11 years ago, I knew I felt something for you. I was just a dick and I slept around too much and I knew you didn't like it, I could tell by the way you looked at each new girl whenever I showed up with one. Then you became more and more distant, I knew it would be harder to get to you and make you see how I felt so I thought it was better to leave it," he paused, taking a deep breath. Your mind was all over the place, not knowing what to say or do, but Bucky carried on anyway.

"But I've stopped that now, I've been single for about a year and I was hoping you'd see that and see I'm not the guy that you thought I was but I guess that was a stupid plan." You laughed a little at this and Bucky joined in. "I was going to ask if you'd like to dance with me?"

Your mouth was already agreeing to it before you could fully process what was happening. Bucky took your hand in his, leading you back inside and into the cleared area that had become the dancefloor. A slow song had started playing and couples were paired together around you.

As you walked into the centre with Bucky, you felt eyes from all over the room looking at you. Your gaze landed on Natasha's over the shoulder of Bruce, she sent you a wink before a big smile broke out onto her face. She knew your feelings for Bucky never truly faded and she couldn't help the happiness she felt at seeing you two finally together now.

Bucky turned to face you, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you close to him while your arms went over his shoulders. "Is this alright?" He whispered, his blue eyes sparkling even in the low light, as you looked across at him. You simply hummed in response, nodding slightly.

No one said anything. Your skin was on fire from where his arms were touching you, even through your clothes and a feeling of serenity washed over you. It was like everyone else in the room melted away and it was just you and Bucky dancing alone. No more eyes prying into your business or making you feel small.

"This is nice," you said softly, Bucky placed his forehead on yours, closing the distance even further. You felt yourself becoming flustered and moved your head to rest on his shoulder instead. He moved your body so it was flush against his. "I could do this forever," he murmured into your hair. "How have I been missing out this long?"

You were sure he was talking to himself at this point but you couldn't help yourself, "well... if you hadn't screwed all those other girls-"

You were cut off by his hands moving to tickle your waist, his laugh mixing with yours as you tried to get away. "No, you're not going anywhere," he tried to grab you again but you were too quick.

"Just watch me, Barnes!" You shouted, slipping away into the crowd. Bucky shook his head at you, pausing for a second to watch your figure disappear.

“Why did I wait so long?” He whispered to himself, before running into the crowd after you.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #tall!reader #bucky x tall!reader #bucky barnes x tall!reader #mcu #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #modern au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes blurb #mcu imagine #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes

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mihidecet · 4 years ago

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Sbi&CO d&d AU: A Familiar Face (1/?)

WELCOME WELCOME EVERYONE! Today, the tournament arc begins! I do hope you’ll enjoy this ahahah

I dedicate this to all the wonderful people of the Au’s Discord - hit me up if you wanna join! Also, a special thank you to @traitorous-bisexual and @awebo without whom this arc wouldn’t exist <3

Finally, before we start: make sure you check out @whatimevendoinhere , @spout1nk and (soon) @julius-ranch for art and fanfics about the AU!!

It was a lovely morning.

The sun shined through the tinted windows, turning the light a soft orange glow that lessened the glare of it against his eyes.

It was a welcome respite: during the months that involved preparing the tournament, days were quick to melt together, nights becoming just darker afternoons as Scott and everyone around him hurried to make everything look ready for the contestants' arrival. So, not having the sun shine directly into his eyes as he looked over the final challenges that had been chosen for the tournament was a relief. The cup of warm tea by his desk was also a saving grace.

Stifling a yawn, Scott figured that he could let himself take a stroll. Maybe open up his window, let the room freshen up a bit.

With his window overlooking one of the many parks inside the Academy, maybe he could distract himself for a moment and see if his protege had finally started warming up to his teammates.

That plan had flown out of the window almost immediately. Or maybe it would be better to say that it had flown into the window, along with a green tipped arrow that had suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

Now, Scott hasn't been adventuring for a while, but it would be foolish to think that he's forgotten how the world works - with a flick of his wrist, a translucent dome of purple arcane energy materializes between him and the incoming arrow, which impacts with the barrier a split second later. The tip goes through, piercing the veil of his magic, and for a terrifying moment Scott thinks it's not gonna stop, but it simply stops, held in place as if caught in a web.

Which is a relief, the amateur that tried to attack him - an Archmage, in the middle of his own Academy - failed to get their first shot in and this will give him the time to step back and call his most trusted in order to quickly and efficiently get rid of the problem at hand. He has other more pressing matters to attend to, he's not going to waste his time on this.

As his Shield spell fades, it congeals like a shimmering second skin over his upper arm. Maybe calling the guards isn't that pressing, he's got this.

Or maybe he doesn't, he thinks as he get a second, much more terrifying surprise - in the span of a couple of seconds, he really can get no breaks.

A figure materializes in the air in front of him, with a dark hood over their head that covers most of their features except for a huge - terrifying - grin and an intricate bow strapped to their back.

The figure appears with a puff of iridescent smoke, crouched in the air as if they'd been in the process of jumping before they decided to teleport, and- crashes into him, the force of the impact and the shock of it happening making him lose his balance and start falling back.

There's a moment where Scott is confused: is this some sort of strange tactic? Did the stranger misjudge their trajectory? Are they going to wrestle on the ground as if they weren't both magic users?

Then, a brief split second of panic - he didn't look what the stranger was holding, and he is currently falling on his back. He is going to get stabbed, at the very least, and that conviction is only made stronger as he feels the stranger's arms close in around him.

But then, Scott has simply enough time to blink in shock, as the arms just wrap around his back, before his world is literally turned upside down.

One moment he is falling on his back, already anticipating the pain of a knife to the back - please no vital organs, spare him the need for an extremely expansive healer. The next the is wrapped in a hug and grunting in pain as his knees impact with the ground.

"Ah, fuck that hurt- Scotty are you alright?"

Scott refuses to believe this. He pushes against the chest under him - the arms give, letting him go - and finds himself face to face with a sight that is both very familiar and weirdly unusual.

"You-" Scott says, tone an unconvincingly mix of menacing and angry as he jabs a finger into the not-so-stranger's chest -"Are lucky to be alive. I could have murdered you."

Hbomb's worried glance instantly brightens, despite Scott's best hopes, and he throws his head back to laugh. No matter how irritated he is at his friend, he can't help but huff out a laugh himself, and a moment later they're both chuckling together on the floor. By all the gods, it has been some time.

"You are a dumbass, H. You couldn't just use the door? You know, like a normal person?!" Scott asks, holding himself up on his left elbow because H has always been one to laugh with his whole body and Scott is still recovering from jamming his knees into the floor, he's not in the mood to be jostled around by an enthusiastic ranger.

"Aw, Scotty, aren't you happy to see me?" The half-elf asks, putting a hand on his chest as he fails to pretend he's insulted. Scott flicks his nose.

"Ah- that hurt!"

"I know, I meant it to hurt. Now, do you want to tell me what you're doing here? And what is that doing on your face?" Scott demands, serious at first until he realises that H has been growing out his beard well past what he considers to be a good length - H's pout is barely visible under all that scruff.

"Well, now, that is unnecessarily rude. I've been traveling for a while now, and I wasn't gonna risk injuring myself-" Scott grabs a wandering hand and brings it back on H's chest.

"H." Hbomb has a tendency of gesticulating when his hands aren't being kept busy, and while he did figure that his friend had simply forgotten to shave, he has known him long enough to be able to recognise when H is going off on a tangent - which is perfectly fine - and when he's changing the subject because he doesn't want to answer.

He knows he's right when H simply shuts up, eyes wide like those of a deer - quite fitting, considering where he enjoys spending most of his time. But instead of looking pensive, or starting to answer, H just … looks down. At where their hands are.

Normally, he wouldn't think much of it. But H looks almost sheepish, and his eyes keep moving from his face to their hands, so Scott looks down.

His brain screeches to a halt, and suddenly he stands up a little straighter, sitting on the floor next to H as he grabs his hand in his.

Around his fingers wraps a perfect replica of a silver winged fae dragon, while in his palm- one of the most accurate representations of the different Planes.

Scott turns his stare to his fiend, who looks more calm than Scott feels he has any right to, and when he speaks he sounds almost breathless.

"What happened to you?"

The tale of how Shubble's patron reached out to him to grant him powers is exhilarating. Not in the "funny" sense, more in the "my friend who is usually not that fond of talking and interacting with people especially when he's not in a place he is familiar with, was transported to a different plane and spoke with a being of transcendent power". So maybe a bit in the "funny" sense.

The only negative side of the whole affair is the fact that Shubble is currently not present.

She actually teaches at the Academy, so H was right in his assumption that reaching this place would have helped him out, but he just barely missed her by a couple of weeks. She's recently left, called out on an urgent mission by her patron themselves, and a part of Scott's mind can't help but feel like it is an extremely weird coincidence: he respects power gained through pacts, but he fears deeply the machinations of otherworldly beings' minds and the power they hold over his friends. He'd much prefer dealing with forces controlled by his own self, so that when a spell backfires comically he only has himself to blame.

But all things considered, he's glad to see H is still alive and seemingly doing better than ever. He looks fine, happy and more confident than the last time he saw him - the way he stands and moves more firm, more secure, filling his space in a way the Hbomb of some time ago wouldn't have.

It's nice to see him like this.

What isn't nice is the way his increased confidence leads him to suggest how good of an idea it would be for him to take part into the tournament. Which is a horrible idea.

"Listen, I know I am banned from playing again-" H starts, arms spread open with a mischievous grin on his face. Scott has sudden flashbacks to all the times he'd seen that grin from the other side of the battlefield and shakes his head firmly before pointing a stern finger at his chest.

"You still have a year before you can."

H huffs, shoulders falling, and he adopts the most fake-innocent expression Scott has ever seen.

"But I'm just here to say hi!" Scott levels him with a blank stare, using all of his willpower and internal strength to avoid bursting out laughing. Because for all that his friend's expression is hilarious, this is really no laughing matter. He can't have him win again.

"I said what I said." H's head hits the desk with a groan of protest.

On the other side of the table, Scott pinches his own arm in order not to laugh.

He fails.

H still manages to pout his way into getting a free room to stay in for a while - just like the old times, come on! - and seems to be alright with being left to his own devices for the rest of the morning.

Knowing him, he'll take it as the perfect chance to snoop around, make new friends and bother the tournament's contestants.

As Scott turns back to his schematics, the only thing he does is chuckle to himself.

#sbi&co dnd au #sbi dnd au #hbomb94 #smajor1995 #tournament arc

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ladyxxdaydream · 4 years ago

Text

a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

That being said, here’s mine:

Tagged by: @rikacain !!

I’m tagging -- @flailinginlove @aviss @kiitsvne @stupidbadgers and @tea-blitz who doesn’t use tumblr anymore but WHATEVER. and anyone else who wants to do it! <3

~~~

JAN: (from Heavy Weight)

“Iruka felt Kakashi’s eye on him. Most people feared the Sharingan, and for good reason, but Iruka feared his real eye, his own eye. It had a way of seeing straight past Iruka’s defenses, no dōjutsu required, and deep into his soul.“

FEB: (from Old Pine)

“Do you want children?” Iruka asked, feeling like the timing was right.

Kakashi was quiet for a few moments. Iruka had learned to read Kakashi’s silences for what they were. It wasn’t hesitation like he had initially thought. Kakashi simply liked to think things through before answering immediately. Iruka liked that about him.

“I think we have four already,” Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, and Sakura through the glass door.

Iruka laughed, but refrained from clarifying. He knew Kakashi understood what he meant and would answer him shortly. Iruka had also learned that Kakashi had a tendency to be indirect, before he got around to what he actually wanted to say.

MARCH: (from Mouthful)

“So, Kakashi.” Iruka said, unable to stand still any longer. “We both like what we see. Now what?”

He wasn’t usually this forward, but he was feeling it tonight. All of this playful banter was riling him up—it was his favorite way to flirt.

“I like a man whose direct,” Kakashi said, shifting his stance to lean an elbow on the table. “But hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t know.”

He gave Iruka a seemingly bored look, as if the obvious invitation to leave together was lost on him.

“Well, I like a man whose decisive, so I guess that rules you out.”

Kakashi let out a hard, surprised laugh. He downed the rest of his beer, and took Iruka by the hand, pulling him out of the bar without a word.

APRIL: (from A New Chapter)

“I don’t know how to put this,” Sakumo started, “but… what the hell is that?”

Kakashi looked at where his Father was pointing.

“Uh… a diaper…?” Kakashi guessed, not sure where this was going. They had about a million others, in every color and pattern you could imagine, folded and stacked in the closet. Iruka wanted to go the re-usable route, and several of his students mother’s were eager to gift them. Kakashi had been less than thrilled by the extra laundry.

“Yes. It’s a diaper, Kakashi. Very good. Tell me, did you have both eyes closed when you put it on?”

MAY: (From Cake Substitution No Jutsu)

“What’s this?” Iruka asked as Kakashi entered the kitchen, a fully dressed Tomo whizzing past them both.

“Ah, it’s a backpack,” Kakashi said, crossing over to Iruka excitedly. “I saw it on display in a shop window while doing Gai’s scavenger hunt. Its arms and legs are the straps, so when you wear it, it looks like it’s riding on your back.”

Iruka smiled, turning it around in his hands, noticing the zipper and a few pockets.

“That’s actually pretty ador—”

Iruka stopped speaking. The tail was tightly curled up inside plastic casing still.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, feeling his eyebrow twitch. “Is this… is this a leash?”

“No. It’s a Puppy Pal… with an exceptionally long tail.”

“It’s a leash,” Iruka deadpanned. “A leash for a child.”

“You put Tomo inside a barrier the other day as a playpen,” Kakashi said, a matter of factly. “Why can’t I have some help controlling her?”

“That’s… that’s different!” Iruka exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat in contradiction. “Would you like it if I put you on a leash, Kakashi?”

Iruka regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. He could practically see the wolfish grin forming beneath Kakashi’s mask.

JUNE: (from Use Your Imagination)

They laid in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the cracked window—distant cars on the street, a lone dog barking, upbeat music wafting from a floor below them.

Kakashi never wished for time to stop. In fact, he tried to keep himself as busy as possible—he chose a career that ate up most of his life for a reason. But right now? He wished time didn’t exist, hyperaware of how quickly it would pass before Iruka was back on a plane tomorrow.

He traced circles into Iruka’s lower back, watching as the brown skin pressed against his broke out in a wave of goosebumps. Iruka shivered, and then shifted, and Kakashi wondered if he was falling asleep.

He selfishly continued his adorations, wanting to keep Iruka in this realm with him for a little while longer. He expanded his rake, sliding his fingers up Iruka’s spine, skirting around his scar, and back down again.

Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in divine intervention, or soulmates. He’d acted in enough corny films to almost make him hate the notion entirely. But the fact that a man as perfect as Iruka had come into his life so serendipitously—and just as scarred as he was—was something he couldn’t overlook.

It made Kakashi’s heart ache with want, before that ache traveled down, and curled into his gut.

JULY: (from Love Me As You Are)

“And then you demeaned their lives by calling them your soldiers—”

“—is that not what they are?!” Kakashi cut across him, getting upset. “You’re as much a part of this system as I am, sensei! We both know the truth of it, whether we like it or not. I just called it by it’s name.”

“But they’re people too, Kakashi! Kids. They’re so much more than soldiers…”

“That’s not how I was treated,” Kakashi said before he could catch himself.

Iruka’s mouth fell open with a punched sound.

“Kakashi…”

His tone was soft and free of the anger it held a moment ago.

“Forget I said that,” Kakashi said, turning away, his cheeks heating up—the last thing he wanted was Iruka’s pity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Iruka said, shaking his head as he took a step towards him. “I’m not going to forget you said that. It does matter because you matter. You deserved to have somebody stand up for you too, Kakashi. I’m so sorry Konoha failed you.”

Kakashi’s eyes burned with tears—he bit his tongue, refusing to let them fall. Those words pierced him straight through the heart. It was everything he never knew he needed to hear.

AUG:

um I didn’t write anything this month because my wife and I separated annnd my whole life was uprooted as I moved to a different country ksjdhgkdsj

SEPT: (from I’ll Fall, If You Do)

Their relationship was going really well. There were days where Kakashi still turned him away, usually corresponding with the mornings he had therapy. It was frustrating, because Iruka just wanted to be there for him, for Kakashi to open up to him completely, but he didn’t push. He knew that would only make it worse. They didn’t fight anymore, but Iruka regularly had to correct the language Kakashi used towards himself, and sometimes it was irritating for the both of them.

But mostly… it was amazing. Their chemistry was incredible. Electric. And not just in the bedroom—they were never far from each other, drawn in like magnets, grounded by a simple touch or brush of hands. Kakashi hadn’t even left the room twenty minutes ago, and already Iruka felt the pull.

He jumped up from his seat and went to go find him.

OCT: (From Language Gap)

Iruka glanced out the bus window, his body instinctively knowing where they were about to pass. The building was still empty twenty years later, the brick still scorched, and Iruka’s nightmares were still plagued by the fire despite not being there when it broke out. He’d been sent on a delivery on foot — one steaming container of karē udon — two blocks away. He delivered to the same old lady everyday, and she always kept him longer than necessary, pressing sweets into his palm. When he had come back, the noodle shop was aflame. In his shocked state, he distantly heard something about a grease fire, before he was whisked away by the hand by his childhood friend Asuma, living with him and his father from that day on.

Iruka sighed and stood up, making his way towards the door since his stop was next. He really wished the city would do something about the building. Every time he saw it, it made him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable, like his past was staring straight at him.

He shook his head a little and stepped off the bus.

NOV: (From Brand New Sound)

Kakashi watched in stunned silence for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat under control as color effortlessly flowed from the artist’s hand onto the brick. Whoever this was, they had sort of become one of Kakashi’s heroes. People always said meeting your heroes was never a good idea—bound to be disappointing—because it brought them down to a human level.

But that was precisely what attracted Kakashi to this artist in the first place—the sheer, raw, humanness. The way they tackled hard emotions and vulnerability, baring everything through their work for others to see. It was honest and transformative, and Kakashi spent more nights than he could ever count wandering the streets when he couldn’t sleep, hoping to catch a mural he’d never seen before it was painted over. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he’d sit in front of ones he already knew and found new meaning in them.

DEC: (from Perks of Promotion)

“But why now?” Iruka insisted. “Why ask me out now? Right after I’ve made tokubetsu jounin? When we’ve known each other for years?”

Oh.

Kakashi paused, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t blame Iruka for being suspicious of his intentions; he’d heard the way people said ‘the chuunin sensei’ or ‘the chuunin desk worker’ like it was some kind of insult. It always pissed him off.

Kakashi stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head again, leveling Iruka with a serious stare. “Because I didn't think I’d live past 21. Because it took me an obscenely long time to become a barely functioning adult. Because I never had the guts before… I-I still don’t, not really, if you can’t tell by how much I’m fumbling around here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

#kakairu #my fic #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #this is VERY long #i dont expect ppl to read it lmao #but it was really fun #*sweats* yeah i picked one sentence.....#also WOW #i published something every month (sometimes twice!!)#except for august #which is... understandable #this was a really cool idea #thanks for tagging me rika :D #writer meme

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago

Text

Not Quite: Killan

CW: Dehumanization, imprisonment, restraints, wing whump implied, blindfolding, muzzling

Timeline: Takes place after Killan is no longer with Calon Nie, but early on in his time being sold from person to person.

“I want to see it.”

The voice was young, and female, and the boy - who was not yet only a creature or monster in his own mind, but was already nameless except for whatever words they chose to call him - looked up from where he had curled up in the corner, scratching his talons idly along the floor.

One scratch for every day. He had three weeks of scratches on the floor behind the pallet stuffed with hen feathers and straw that he slept on. Not that it mattered how long he had been here, but he tried to keep track. It gave him something to do, and he had nothing else to look forward to but meals and the times the man who owned him visited.

The room was large, although he could only move around about a third of it. He had a pallet, a bucket, a shirt and a pair of pants, a bowl and cup. That was all he had here. They told him animals need nothing else.

A book might have been nice, though. Or a game. Or… something. Even Beron and Ren had given him stories to think over while he worked, time out in the light. Even Calon Nie had spoken to him, told him tales of his own life, given the boy’s mind anything, anything at all, anything to remind him that he had a mind at all.

The boy was kept in a large stone room in a large stone house in a large stone city he only saw in glimpses, tied down in a wagon, trussed up like so much cargo jostling around in the back. The buildings seemed so tall that the sky could barely make itself seen between them, but in the stone room in the stone house, he could see blue sky through the window that he could not reach.

He couldn’t reach the window because of the chains hooked into the rings pierced into the joins of his wings, chains that ran down to hooks in the floor next to his pallet.

Iron didn’t hurt him but they still used it just in case. Iron chains bound between stone floor and brass rings punched through feathers and skin, keeping the boy just a few feet away from a window where he saw pink skies in the morning, blue at noon, and the barest hint of stars deep in the night.

He could hear the stars, faint as a whispered word three rooms away. He could hear them, but nothing could hear him in here.

If anything out there had ever heard his prayers, it had only ever been to answer them with laughter and to give him more tears instead of saving, anyway. The boy thought he’d cried tears enough, now, that he had none left.

But the day the girl came the first time, he learned otherwise.

After she spoke, he heard another voice, older. “Now, miss, your father wouldn’t find it appropriate-”

“I don’t much care what Father finds appropriate. He brought it here and I should get to see it.” The girl’s voice was petulant, ringing clear and high on the other side of the locked door.

The boy looked over that direction from his corner, wrinkling his nose under the muzzle buckled tightly to his head, listening to the clink of the iron chains as his wings pulled a little closer in against his body.

“I absolutely should not let you be in there alone,” The older voice warned. “It has claws, you know.”

“It’s a fae thing, right? I think they’re called talons. Fae are like birds, aren’t they? I’m pretty sure they’re like birds.”

“It doesn’t matter. It could hurt you dearly, young lady.”

“I don’t care, and I’ll bet it doesn’t! I should get to see what my father keeps showing his friends, shouldn’t I?”

The boy cocked his head, unaware of the ways he’d picked up Calon Nie’s mannerisms and kept them. The more he was treated as something other than human, the easier it was to hold only to those things that seemed to reinforce the assumption.

“You are too delicate to bear such a sight alone-”

“Then come in with me.”

A hesitation. Then a resigned sigh. “... fine. But if your father comes home unexpectedly-”

“I’ll swear up and down I threatened to have you dismissed if you wouldn’t do what I wanted. I promise. I’ll put on such a show of snobbish spoiled nonsense, they’d pay me in the theaters to come act for them. Come on, let me in there! Let me see it, please?” Her voice turned wheedling. “Please, Governess?”

There was a sigh, exasperated and affectionate, and the boy tensed as he listened to the clink of the key in the lock, the tumblers shifting and clicking, and then the door to the stone room swung open and a girl his own age stepped inside.

She turned to look at him, and for a moment the boy forgot the misery and endless pain of living, and saw only her face.

She was brilliant as a star, shimmering light-colored hair in an elaborate tumble of braids and shine down her back, wearing an off-the-shoulder dress, a flash of warm tanned skin. Her eyes sparkled blue in a beautifully rounded face, reflecting the sun the boy had never directly seen since he’d been brought here in the first place.

He kept his gaze sidelong.

She was beautiful.

He was hideous, and a monster, and she was beautiful.

“Is this it?” She asked, eyes widening as she looked at him in what he thought must be horror, only to realize it was… delight. “Why, it’s a boy! With wings!”

“Not quite,” the older woman, dressed more severely in a high-necked gray-blue dress and with her own brown hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, said dryly. “It’s not a boy. It’s… damnation itself. Why your father wanted it-”

“I know why he wanted it.” The girl was still standing by the door, but the boy heard a shift, a scrape, and he turned to see her slippered feet, clad in pale satin to match her dress, moving towards him with a slow determination. “Because there’s nothing else like it in the world. That’s what he’s always looking for.” She stopped, just shy of how far the chains on his wings would let him go. “Isn’t that true, creature? Or… hm. Is there anyone else like you?”

He was already numb to the name.

Creature. Monster. Abomination. Should Not Be.

He shook his head in answer, feeling the shift of his hair, shaggy and badly in need of a cut, moving around the leather straps of the muzzle clamped over nose, mouth, and jaw.

“So there you go, that’s why,” The girl said matter-of factly. “It’s unique.” She still stood with her feet just outside the marked circle around him, drawn in chalk across the floor, a warning line of how far he could reach.

Then, deliberately, she stepped over the line.

The governess by the door gave a start. “Leanisa, he’s dangerous-”

“No, he’s not. Will you hurt me, creature?”

He shook his head again, watching her come closer to him. His own breathing sped up, rapid and shallow, audible through the muzzle as she came within a foot of him and dropped down, her dress spreading out along the floor. The sight of the pale blue silk lying along cold, dirty stone made the boy want to push her back up, tell her not to stay here, near him, near what he was and is and would always be.

“What would you hurt me with, if you wanted to?” Her eyes were alight with interest, avid and curious, and when he slowly lifted his right hand she gasped out loud at the sight of his talons, wickedly curved keratin, thick and slightly heavier than his human fingers. She took the hand in hers, and he caught his breath.

“Leanisa, I must insist-”

“Hush. Let me touch him.” She pressed her finger against the blunt side of one talon, ran it along the curve, and the boy wished desperately that he could sense the touch as more than a simple pressure. “These are lovely, aren’t they?”

Were they? He stared blankly at her, then gave a one-shouldered shrug.

Her fingers ran up the dark, rough skin behind the talons, feeling over it, murmuring to herself, until she reached the scarring where they had been sewn on a human palm just at the knuckles. Shivers ran up his arm, electric and never felt before, and he had to swallow against a sense of tightness in his throat that made no sense.

She clasped his hand, briefly, and he watched a bit of her braid fall over one shoulder. He would have done anything, in that moment, for her to move closer, or to be able to touch back. But he didn’t dare.

“You’re not dangerous for me, are you?” She asked, teasing, and he shivered as she let go of his hand and moved to lay her palm along the wrought-leather of the muzzle that covered the bottom half of his face, rubbing a thumb over the little holes edged in brass for him to breathe through. He let her raise his head until his eyes met hers.

She gave a little start, but her smile faded only a little. “Your eyes are blue… and bleeding,” She said, softly. He felt the trickle of reddish-pale saltwater, stinging when it reached the spaces where the muzzle fit tightly, rubbed and irritated until he bled.

They do that. All he could do was shrug in response.

She seemed to take the statement he meant with the gesture, because she laughed a little, pushing back some of his shaggy hair from his head. “That’s all right. Hold on.” She stood up and walked back away fromhim, and the boy found himself wanting to lean after her, whining in his throat when the chains in his wings kept him on the other side of the white chalk line in the floor. She stopped before her governess and held out her hand. “Natalia, your scarf.”

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“I’d like your scarf, please. It needs something for its eyes.”

“You are not giving my scarf to that thing-”

“Yes, I am. Are you or aren’t you my governess? I’m doing it. Just try and stop me. Give me your scarf.” The girl paused, and in a beguiling, lovely, lilting voice, she added, “Please?”

After a pause, the older woman’s mouth pursed into a thin little curve of displeasure, but she unwound the scarf from her neck and the girl smiled brilliantly.

“Thank you, Natalia, you’re a love.” She leaned up to kiss the woman on the cheek before she turned and came back to him, stepping with casual carelessness over the line this time, dropping back into her crouch.

He looked at her, and she smiled kindly at him. “Hold on,” She said, softly, tenderly. “Be still.” She lifted the cloth up and for a moment he leaned forward, wondering if she would wipe away his tears.

Instead, she slid the cloth around and over his eyes, wrapping it over twice until the world was plunged into a pure and perfect darkness for the boy. Then she double-knotted it at the back of his head.

Her fingertips grazed against the skin just above where the muzzle cut in, curiously tapping nails along the side of the muzzle before he felt another touch, fingers deftly undoing the buckle of the muzzle itself. His head jerked up, and she shushed him playfully. For the first time when it wasn’t simply to eat a meal, the leather was pulled away from his face, and he heard it drop with a clatter to the ground beside him.

“There,” She said softly. “Isn’t that better?”

For a moment, he was so wracked with his gratitude that he forgot how to speak. “I… m-... much, yes,” He managed, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Yes, m… miss. Who are… who are you?”

“I am your master’s daughter, Leanisa.” Her fingers settled onto his jaw on either side of his face, lifting his chin, and he could feel the weight of her eyes along the scar on his throat. “I’ve heard you can thrall people. Will you enthrall me?”

Her voice darkened slightly, in something less like anger or suspicion and more like flirtation.

“No, miss,” He said, fervently, feeling a flush he couldn’t explain heating his cheeks near her fingertips. He could feel her hands like fire, the best kind of fire, warming him from the inside out. A shivery nervous heat in his stomach seemed to be telling him to touch her, too, but he kept his hands carefully to himself. He heard the chains clink together as his wings rustled behind him. “I don’t-... I don’t want to. It’s a dirty trick and it’s only, when I’m scared, I can’t… stop it.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t scare you, should I?” She had laughter in her words, and her fingertips danced over clammy skin and dry alike, moved over him, feeling at the structure and form of his face, his jaw, his throat, down to his collarbone visible through the low neck of the shirt he wore. “Do I scare you, creature?”

“C… can you call me something else?” His voice was low. He hardly dared speak the words. “Please? Can you give… give me a name?”

She hesitated, and then he could hear the smile when she said, “What would you rather be called?”

“Del,” he said, low. His own name meant pain, he didn’t want to hear the syllables out loud ever again. But… “Can you call me Del?”

Boy, in the fae tongue. Still better than creature or monster.

“Fair enough, Del. I can do that. It’s nice to meet you, Del.”

“It’s… good to meet you as well, Miss. You’re the first who has… who has been so kind to me. The first since… I became what I am.”

“I can see why, it’s hard when you see something you’ve never seen before. But I’m more used to seeing new things than most people, with my father being all a-twitter over every rumor of a new animal’s discovery. Do you sing like the fae do?”

His cheeks colored, humiliated at the idea of performing on cue, but he cleared his throat, and then chirped a few times, gave a quiet little trill.

She laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls, shining and lovely. It felt like he was listening to the laughter of starlight or moonlight or the sun itself. He could see her, almost - picture her hands clapped over her mouth in surprised happiness. “Oh, you can! How lovely! How lovely, Del! I adore it. What beautiful sounds you make.”

He dared a slight smile, and felt her hands on him again. He leaned into the palm on the side of his face, closed his eyes behind the blindfold and felt tears prickling, hot and grateful. Someone who did not hurt him. Someone who was kind.

Her thumb stroked over his cheekbone, her fingertips were just touching his jaw. He chirped, low in his throat, a fae sound of comfort and something like contentment.

“I’m glad you make those sounds to remind me, and have those wings,” Leanisa said softly. “Otherwise I might make a terrible mistake and not put this back on.”

There had been a curl of warmth inside him, slowly unfurling, remembering a life that had once held kindness. At her words, that warmth died, and the core of him went cold. “... Miss?”

He heard the movement of leather and brass scraping along the floor, and then felt the muzzle pressing back over his mouth. He made a soft sound of despair with both voices, and she laughed again, not unkindly. “Oh, hush. I won’t take chances, Del. You’re different, that’s for sure, but you’re still... what you are. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

She buckled the muzzle on, catching it in his hair so he flinched at the sudden pinch and pull.

There was a pause, and she patted him on the head. Then he heard the nearly-silent sound of her silk slippers as she walked away.

He heard her pause, just at the door. Her voice, high and sweet, rang through the room. “With that blindfold on, you look almost human.”

The door closed as she and her governess left. He listened to the click of the lock turning, and then he tore the blindfold off his head, shredded the scarf into nothing but broken threads, and curled up behind his wings next to his pallet, in the corner of the room.

He looked through the curtain of feathers at the bare rectangle of pale blue sky he could see through the window they’d ensured he could not reach, wondering if he’d ever see the great expanse of sky he knew was out there, ever again.

Almost human.

But not enough.

He found he had more tears to cry, after all.

----

Tagging Killan’s crew: @astrobly @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @slaintetowhump , @quirkykayleetam , @whumpallday , @whumppsychology, @doveotions, @broken-horn, @moose-teeth, @whumpfigure, @spiffythespook, @oceanthesarcasamfox, @whump-only(if you would like to be added to an OC’s tag list, please send your request via an ask! Those are easier for me to keep track of and I tend to lose requests in comments, reblogs, tags, or PMs!)

NOTE: Killan's universe and the details of fae, fae biology, etc all belong to @wildfaewhump!

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billyhardgrove · 5 years ago

Text

A CHALLENGE - Billy Hargrove

A/N: This is the single dirtiest thing I have ever written. Forgive me Lord. Enjoy xx

*gif not mine*

A CHALLENGE

Pairing: Billy & Reader

Word Count: 7.6k approx.

Warning: Swearing, MATURE CONTENT 18+

Summary: You’re really horny but Billy’s on duty at the pool. Challenge accepted.

MASTERLIST

THE SCORCHING SUN beat down on his glistening skin, highlighting the curves of his muscles and accentuating them deliciously. His hair was styled perfectly as always, the curls laying on his head like a handsome crown, with one strand falling independently from the rest across his forehead. Light stubble graced his face, dancing across his stiff upper lip giving away the stern expression he held while his eyes were masked with a pair of sunglasses. His whistle lay loosely against his bare chest, atop of the necklace you had pulled on too many times through seduction. He was just sat there in his chair, his harsh gaze on the kids in the pool, holding strict authority if a single action was carried out that was against the community pool regulations.

And God, you had never wanted him more than in that moment.

You were lying on one of the sunbeds, oiled up and glistening yourself, while dressed in the smallest bikini you owned.

You knew he had seen you, but for some reason you weren’t pressed against a wall with him growling sinful things in your ear while he was thrusting in and out of you.

He was being stubborn, but you had always liked a challenge. There was still room for convincing, you were sure from the way his eyebrows had furrowed upon taking in your golden goddess-like body laying sexily on the sun bed, his jaw clenching in slight anger. He knew what you were doing. But he wasn’t going to make it easy for you, and when the inevitable time came, he knew he wasn’t going to be easy on you.

He hadn’t looked at you since then when he had walked past you on his way to the lifeguard chair to switch with Heather for lifeguard duty. And you were growing more and more frustrated the more he ignored you, both mentally and sexually. So, you took it upon yourself to approach him, to really express the dilemma you were in.

Getting up from your bed you began to make your way around the pool to where the blonde boy was. He had gotten down from his high chair and was in the middle of talking to one of the mothers.

“- keep an eye on your son and stop him from diving in the pool otherwise I really have no choice but to ask you to leave, and you know I really don’t wanna have to do that.” Billy was saying, his voice deep and his lips were pulled into that charming smile he always seemed to have when flirting with someone, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the boy. “But unfortunately, its in the job description.” He finished, shrugging and explaining how it was out of his hands to do anything but his job, and the mother was far too giddy and smiley given what Billy had just told her.

But you knew his flirting didn’t really mean anything; it was just Billy’s unique technique of getting people to do as he asked, practically getting his authority across through his charm and flirting. Well, at least when it came to women.

Finally approaching the boy, you could tell his eyes had caught sight of you behind his sunglasses when his smile faltered slightly. Oh, you were in for it now.

“Hi Billy,” you smiled mischievously at him, being sure to pout your lips a little and subtly push your chest out. The mother gave you an almost disgusted look, glancing at you and the supposed desperation that reeked from you for trying to evidently get with Billy. Little did she know you already had Billy and had been dating him for the past year, and this – what you were doing - was all fun and games. But you didn’t care about what the older woman thought, giving her a small wave as she almost huffed and finally walked away.

Letting out a sigh, Billy finally turned to you and murmured; “What are you doing here, y/n?”

“Oh nothing, I just thought I would catch some sun is all.” You spoke innocently. Your left arm was resting across your stomach just below your breasts as your other hand twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, keeping up the act of innocence.

Billy stared at you for a moment, his eyes raking your body, not believing a word you said. He saw that twinkle in your eye and the mischievousness it held. You were full of it. So, stepping toward to you, his head dipped closer to yours before he let out a taunting; “Well, have fun.” And that was all before he turned and began to walk away from you.

He wasn’t going to fall for your tactics. Not at work. Believe it or not, Billy somewhat cared about his job at the community pool because he knew he was good at it and he took it quite seriously. You knew this. And so, you accepted that challenge, and here you were ready to win, ready to crack the lifeguard.

But he was making it harder than you thought, watching his back muscles flex as he walked away, you took your lower lip into your mouth before you decided to fight fire with fire. If he was going to make this difficult for you, then that was no problem. You had plenty of tricks up your sleeve and Billy had better be ready for them

So, walking over to the pool, you made sure to sit at the edge right in front of the lifeguard chair, to be sure Billy’s eyes were nowhere but on you. Dipping your feet in, the water felt refreshing against your toes. This summer in Hawkins was a warm one, and today was no exception, it being one of those days in which it was too warm to actually do anything productive except catch a tan and attempt to cool down.

Giving your head a gentle shake from side to side, you could feel your long hair swing elegantly along your back before you brought your arms up, gathering it up into a hand held ponytail and letting out a sigh as the air hit the back of your neck. It was a simple action, and you couldn’t be sure if the intended effect would hit Billy, but you were just starting off easy.

But it was as you turned your head slightly over your shoulder that you could just about see Billy shuffle a bit in his seat and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at him. It had worked.

Little slut, Billy thought, knowing you were playing dirty. Given the mood that you had set and the seemingly innocent action that you had just performed, it filled Billy’s head with dirty thoughts for he knew it was anything but innocent.

It reminded him of the countless numbers of times that you had sucked him off, except it was normally his own hands that held your hair into a makeshift ponytail. And now his head was poisoned with the thoughts of your thick lips wrapped around his cock, pleasuring him in ways only you were capable of. But he fought them off, his face remained the same strict and stern as always, a slight shuffle in his seat being the only reaction you got from him.

But you expected that. It would almost be humorous if that was the motion that pushed Billy over the edge.

So next, you decided to slip into the pool, your arms skating along the water before you ducked under, deciding to swim to the other side and back, slow and steady, just to hold Billy’s attention. And as you swam back, approaching the edge of the pool in which you had previously been sitting it was here the next test would be. Gliding your head out of the water with grace, your hair was smooth against your head and back before you lifted yourself out of the pool. You held yourself up for just a moment as you stared at Billy and a teasing smirk on your lips as you saw his tongue dart out and wet his lip momentarily while staring at your body.

Water glided along your skin, glistening and wet as your tits sat pressed together, and Billy couldn’t deny the strong urge he had to rip that bikini top from you. You were gorgeous, sexy and were really making it hard for him now. Climbing out of the pool with such grace, you gave a slight skip as you got to your feet, being sure to make your breasts bounce for Billy. But still he stayed seated as he tried his hardest to pull his gaze from you.

Hmm, you thought, guess you would have to get physical.

Walking back over to your sunbed, part of Billy thought you had given up, just like that, but he knew you better than that. For it wasn’t long until you were back again, standing at the base of his lifeguard chair.

Giving him an innocent grin, he didn’t trust you. “What is it now, doll?” He asked, his voice monotonous, and you felt his eyes piercing you through his glasses.

“Well, see I was just putting sunscreen on and I can’t reach my back.” You explained, a devious look on your face as you spoke. “So, can you do it for me?”

Billy let out a humourless laugh, scoffing almost as he turned his gaze to the side for a moment an arrogant smirk on his face and your smile only spread wider. You were close. He knew that this task would be more intimate than it should be, and he was feeling defensive for this could be the moment that he crumbled.

He was quiet still, his attention remaining to the side. It was as though he needed some time to build up the strength to go through with it and it honestly humoured you.

“I don’t have all day,” you sang, mockingly. You stood with your hip popped, your left arm resting across your lower stomach while your right hand held the sunscreen in your hand, waving it impatiently.

Returning his attention to you, he mumbled a ‘fine’ before climbing down from his seat once more. You handed him the bottle, before turning your back to him, moving your hair over one shoulder and dropping your bikini straps so he could cover everywhere.

All the while, Billy was glaring at you, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he began to rub the cream into your soft golden skin, and you couldn’t help but sigh at his touch. Closing your eyes for a moment, you let out a soft whimper as his hands glided over your shoulders and Billy swore he felt something in his trunks from that. God, the temperature between the two of you was so high and the tension, sexual.

Fire pooled in your stomach as you felt his breath on your neck his lips leaning in closer. They ghosted along your skin, along the back of your neck and up to the edge of your ear and you thought to yourself, you had him. He was going to crack.

Heat continued to travel south as you felt his chest press right up against your back, and he inhaled before murmuring against your ear; “all done.” And just like that his touch was gone as he stepped back from you, creating unwanted space, and you couldn’t fight the annoyance in your expression.

Cocky bastard.

Pulling your straps back up over your shoulders, you turned to face the boy, an arrogant, knowing smirk stretched upon his handsome features while you looked mildly upset.

He then proceeded to hand you back the sunscreen bottle but not before leaning in again, and speaking lowly, “nice try, princess.”

God, he was smug. He usually didn’t have so much self-control around you, but you had to admit this was impressive. So, it left you with one more option.

Opening the sunscreen bottle, you squirted some into your palm before meeting Billy’s gaze, staring right into those blue eyes before bringing your hand up to the parts of your breasts that were on show. And you swore you saw his eyes grow wide while his smirk fell as your hands glided across your tits slipping in behind the fabric of your bikini top and rubbing suggestively in plain view of Billy. The shine and glow that the cream left behind almost made his mouth water, accentuating them deliciously and his mind reeled with images of himself running his tongue across their surface and around your nipples.

Billy glanced either side of you to see if anyone had noticed what you were doing before stepping closer to you, somewhat blocking the erotic scene from any by-passers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled, his tone laced with a warning you were far too familiar with. His face was drawn closer to your own, intimidating and dominant.

“I need you.” You couldn’t help but whine; you had been wanting him all day and begging him seemed to be the last resort you had to finally get what you wanted. “I’m so horny, Billy, please. I need you.” You pouted, your eyes looking at him in faux plea.

“Not now. I’m on duty.” He snapped, and he sounded definite until he let his eyes glance down again, and your luscious tits made him second guess himself all over again.

“But Billy,” You stepped even closer to him, standing on your tip toes so as you could lean up to his ear before you purred; “I’m so wet for you. All I want is your big cock.” And Billy couldn’t fight the groan that grumbled from his throat at your dirty words. He felt himself stir slightly in his trunks again and he found himself closing his eyes trying to contain himself and to stop himself from just fucking you right there by the side of the pool.

But you took his silence as another no. Taking his hand in your own, you looked down as your own played innocently with his fingers while you sighed in lost hope.

“Fine,” You huffed, still not moving your gaze from his hand. “I guess I’ll have to just go play with myself then.” You shrugged, meeting his eyes once more to see his reaction and Billy just stared at you, but you knew his mind was exploding with the image you had placed there.

And it was true; Billy was internally groaning as his mind was blinded with the image of you lying before him, legs spread wide as your own fingers rubbed against your clit causing you to moan out in pleasure over and over and over again before you finally let one of your fingers slip inside and the loudest pornographic moan leaving your lips was ringing in his ears and-

“But I know it won’t be anywhere near as good as when you play with me.” You continued, fiddling with his fingers in your own before bringing his hand upwards in between the pair of you. “Especially with these fingers.” Looking back at him, you made sure to keep eye contact with him once more – for that was one thing that turned Billy on more than most was eye contact – while biting your lip. And you could tell he was wondering what you were playing at, wondering why you hadn’t just given up yet, wondering what you were planning. And he soon found out as you lifted his hand up towards your lips before slowly and teasingly slipping one of his fingers into your mouth and sucking tauntingly from the base to the tip of it all while not breaking eye contact.

And it was that moment that was the one to finally push Billy over the edge.

Pulling his hand from your grasp, he pushed you backwards before shoving you in the direction of the locker room.

“Go.” He growled, his voice so low and threatening that you didn’t want to find out what would happen if you disobeyed – for you feared you wouldn’t be able to walk for the days to come. And so you started to walk quickly towards the small building, passing a lot of mums, teenagers and children while Billy stormed close behind you, anger radiating from him and practically causing people to step out of your way like it was the parting sea. Glancing over to any people nearby, there were a few mothers and teenagers that had seen your sinful gesture and looks of disapproval and disgust were thrown his way, but he didn’t care. For he swore what he was about to do to you would be more sinful than most of those mothers could ever even fantasize about.

Being sure to wiggle your hips a little as you walked in front of him, Billy growled once more, fighting the urge to slap your ass as you finally made your way into the building. Grabbing a hold of your forearm, you didn’t dare say a word as he directed you past the office staff room upon which Heather and Stewart Bennett were sat, chatting happily to one another.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going, Hargrove? You’re on duty.” Stewart shouted out noticing the pair of your hurriedly passing by.

“Not anymore.” Billy returned, not even giving him a glance. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only.

“But Billy-“

“I said not anymore, Bennett!” Billy snapped, finally giving the sunburnt boy a pissed off look making him back down before continuing on his way and pushing you into the locker room.

There were a few people inside, either changing into their bathing suits or into their regular clothes. But Billy wasn’t having it.

“Everyone out!” He roared, his voice holding such anger that not a single person challenged him, nobody questioning why their lifeguard was stood before them, furious while grasping onto a girl in a small bikini, before they hurriedly rushed out of the room leaving the two of you alone.

Finally letting go of you, he pulled his sunglasses off, chucking them to the side before he glared at you with those heated eyes. They were crazed, fuelled with fury, aggression and lust.

“This is what you fucking wanted, y/n, now you’ve fucking got it.” He spat at you, his chest rising and falling, and you honestly couldn’t believe the reaction you had gotten out of him. It was better than what you had expected.

You remained silent, not saying a word but continuing to stare at the boy with that mischievous glint that Billy had failed to get rid of. And then he was against you, his lips crashing angrily to yours, so furious and animalistic as he pushed you backwards until your back was pressed against the lockers. It was all tongue and teeth and hands and grunts, as Billy had you trapped where you had wanted to be all along.

One of his hands was bruised against your hips while the other was reaching up and untying your bikini top. Pulling back from the kiss, his lips trail down your neck, nipping and biting here and there, before making his way down to your chest and then finally your tits. God, those fucking tits. Finally he could do what he had been imagining.

“You think it was funny, did you? Rubbing yourself like that in front of me?” He seethed against your lips, the image of you rubbing the sunscreen over your tits playing on rerun in his head. Bringing a hand up to massage one of your breasts, they fit so well in his large hands and he couldn’t wait to run his tongue along them. Billy always had been more of a tits guy rather than an ass guy anyway.

He then started to play with the nipple, rubbing it and pinching it, causing you to let out a quiet moan at the stimulation. “God, Billy.” Was all you could manage as he brought the other breast into his mouth, sucking at the supple skin and taking the nipple in between his lips.

He really knew what he was doing, your subconscious thought as you tried to fight another moan from tumbling from your own lips.

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and your hand subconsciously began to make your way down to your panties. Slipping it under the waist band, your fingers didn’t waste time before you pressed them against your clit, rubbing irregular circles on yourself while Billy assaulted your chest.

Letting out a staggered breath at the incredible pleasure you were feeling, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth when one of your fingers made your way to your hole, tickling it timidly before delving inside. “F-fuck.” You stuttered out, and Billy smirked against your breasts at your sounds. Pulling back from you, he wanted to look at you, to see you standing there before him, wanting him more than ever.

He took in your dark eyes, swirling with hormones and want, your hair framing your face in waves, your chest rising and falling with every deep breath you took. You were like a satanic angel. And then his eyes trailed downwards, widening slightly. If you weren’t the sexiest girl he had ever met…

“Fuck, baby – are you fingering yourself?” Billy cursed, mesmerised at the scene in front of him. He could feel himself growing harder, turned on from the way you were a mess from touching yourself, playing with your pussy. “Jesus, you’re filthy.” He groaned, his own hand reaching down to rub himself a little over his swimming trunks, at least giving him a tiny bit of relief.

You could only moan at the boy as you continued to finger fuck yourself.

“God, I’m going to destroy you, y/n.” And his lips were on yours again, feverish, mad, dominant. He tugged at your bikini thong, pulling them down your legs before removing your fingers from yourself and taking over. Swiping his fingers along your lips, he felt how wet you were, how ready you were. “Baby, you’re soaking.” Billy chuckled, causing your cheeks to burn red as he taunted you and how horny you were. Bringing his hand up to show your juices shining against his fingers, he chuckled once more, menacingly. “Well, princess, since you like sucking fingers so much, how about you suck yourself clean off of mine.”

He brought his hand closer to you, aligned with your lips as he raised a challenging eyebrow at you, as if to dare you to say no. Looking at him, looking at those ominous eyes, you leaned forward not breaking eye contact as you once again sucked on Billy’s fingers, letting your tongue lick them clean of your wetness. Pulling back, he smirked, domineering. “Good girl.”

He then proceeded to lean in to kiss you at the exact moment his hand was back between your legs and not one but two of his thick fingers had slipped inside of you. And you gasped into his lips, feeling yourself spread and stretch around his digits. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, you couldn’t fight the moans from leaving you this time. It was always better when Billy was the one touching you. Your mouth was agape, sounds of pleasure and heaven falling freely from you.

“You like that, baby, huh? You like how I’m fingering you in the locker room? Anyone could walk in right now and see you, a complete mess at my fingertips.” Billy murmured against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and his words only turned you on more and more, your core ablaze. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.

“Shit, Billy, don’t stop. I’m close.” You managed to let out, and Billy begin scissoring his fingers inside of you, causing your eyes to close, shocked by the ecstasy he was giving you. Your back arched against the cold metal of the lockers, your chest pressing against his as he watched you fall apart from his doing. His lips pressed against yours once more, but you could barely concentrate on that as you felt yourself getting there, closer and closer and-

“What the fuck?!” You screamed, shoving Billy backwards as an evil smile captured his face, his teasing fingers swinging by his side. “I was nearly there!” You were annoyed, frustrated at how he had just deprived you from coming. “You’re a fucking asshole. I can’t believe-“

“Now hold on sweetheart,” Billy growled back, stepping towards you, his chest pressed to yours once more while his two hands slammed against the lockers on either side of your head causing them to rattle and you to fall silent immediately. “Who’s in charge here?”

The fact that you stayed silent upon his question didn’t please him so he brought his hand down between your legs once more and cupped your heat in his palm causing another gasp to echo from your lips at the sensitivity and sensation his mere touch could give you. “I said, who’s in charge here?” He repeated, his voice low and threatening, as though he was warning you not to make him ask again.

“You are.”

“That’s right. I am,” Billy nodded, his words slow and clear, as he removed his hand from between your thighs. “Now get on your knees.”

You quickly got on the ground before him, kneeling, awaiting his next instructions. You watched as Billy pulled his swim trunks down, his erection springing free and perfectly in line with your face.

“You know what to do, princess. You’ve done it a thousand times before.” Billy said, impatience and mockery held in his words.

So, shuffling a little bit closer, you opened your mouth and took him between your lips. You could feel the head reach right back against your throat as you took as much of him in as you could without gagging. Right on cue, Billy’s hands reached down and pulled your hair back, making a make-shift ponytail with his hands, making sure your only attention was on pleasuring him.

Taking a moment to adjust to how deep he had gone in your mouth, you finally began to move your head up and down along the length of his thick cock. He was filling up your mouth and even still not all of him fit. You could feel the weight of him along your tongue, your eyes scrunching a little as you relaxed your throat and took him in further, deep throating him.

“You’re such a dirty girl, princess – taking in all of my cock.” Billy growled, looking down at you through his long lashes as he fought the groans grumbling up his throat. Glancing up to make eye contact with him, you heard a low moan finally escape him at just how hot you looked with him in your mouth. Fuck, you were dirty.

Billy’s head tilted back a little when you moaned around his length, making it known of just how much you enjoyed having him between your lips. Pulling him from your mouth, you moaned out, “God, you taste so good, baby.” Starting to move your hand from the base of his cock upwards, you then leaned forward and focussed on kitten licking his tip, causing him to almost lose his control. You could practically feel him shudder then, as you let your tongue trail right from the bottom to the head of his cock, slowly, tauntingly, tracing over his thick vein.

“So fucking good.” You hummed and the vibrations almost triggered him back into control, for just as you were about to bring him back into your mouth, he grasped tighter onto your hair and then shoved himself down further into your throat. You gagged a little, caught off guard but happily took him as he began to move his hips back and forward, pulling himself in and out, roughly fucking your sinful mouth. You could feel your throat start to grow raw at the sheer friction of it, but you loved it; you loved how rough Billy was.

You continued to hollow out your cheeks, revelling in the heavy breaths that left him as you knew Billy was trying hard not to let on to how good you were making him feel, but his breathing was a giveaway. Eventually, you needed to catch your breath, so you pulled back from his length, gasping for air a little, but in no time you had been pulled to your feet and Billy’s mouth was back on yours. He couldn’t handle how sexy you looked, with your lips swollen red from being wrapped around his dick and your cheeks flushed and your eyes crazed. He was infatuated with you.

It wasn’t as rough this time, the kiss, but more simple yet passionate as the pair of you caught your energy in order to prepare for what was next. Billy’s arms were wrapped tightly around your back, bringing you impossibly close as he kissed you and your own were around his neck. He then murmured against your lips, ‘jump’, which you did, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He walked over to one of the benches in the room, sitting down on it with you on his lap. You could feel him rubbing against you, against your heat and you couldn’t help but grind down on him. You wanted him so badly.

“I need you inside me,” you whined, not being able to take the teasing any longer. So, pulling back, you reached down to him and pumped him a couple of times before you finally sank down onto his full length. “S-shit,” you staggered out, even after all this time it still took you a few seconds to adjust to him.

Billy leaned forward, moving your hair away from your neck before pressing his lips against it, trailing sloppy kisses along your jaw and then towards the base of your neck. You revelled in the feeling for a moment before finally you lifted your hips until just his head was inside before you sank back down onto him, over and over as your mouth fell open again at the feeling.

The only sound in the locker room were your moans, Billy’s heavy breaths and the sound of hot skin hitting skin echoing like an anthem. His hands trailed along your sides before resting against your ass, moving along with your hips as he squeezed at the flesh.

Rotating your hips, you bit your lips to try to restrain how loud you really wanted to moan but when Billy started to buck his hips up to meet yours, you couldn’t help it.

“Fuck, Billy.”

“You like that, princess? Jesus, I can feel you clenching me so tightly.” He let out, continuing to thrust upwards, getting faster and faster as your sounds of pleasure matched. “Are you gonna come for me, baby? Are you gonna come all over my cock?”

Nodding your head, you could feel that familiar feeling return and you prayed that Billy would let you release this time. God, you were so close.

Billy stared at you, your face contorted in utter pleasure, making him revel in the praise. Your tits bounced sensually in front of him, causing him to mentally groan before he looked down to where he was slipping inside of you and he could feel himself get turned on even more, if it were possible. He had really hit a strike of luck capturing a girl like you, and he was sure to not take you for granted.

“Go on, baby. Come for me,” He urged, before bringing his hand between the two of you and starting to rub your clit. And it was as if fire sparked from his fingertips as that amplified the ecstasy you felt. You could feel your eyes begin to blur, nearly closing as you were on the very edge of coming. And then Billy started to jut his hips harder against you, his cock hitting deeper on the spot that finally got you there.

Your vision was white, every single nerve within your being having been set alight as you finally came. Breathing heavy and eyes lidded, your lips turned up into a lazy satisfied smile. But as you stared at Billy, a mischievous smirk graced his lips and your eyebrows were just about to furrow in a frown when he easily lifted you up and onto your feet.

“Up against the lockers, back to me.” He ordered, his cock still erect, and you realised he didn’t finish yet. “Don’t make me repeat myself again, princess. You don’t want to test me.” He warned.

So, slowly, timidly, you walked over to the lockers your front facing them. You felt him walk towards you, his breath reaching the back of your neck as his chest ghosted your back.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you baby?” He chuckled darkly, and you almost gulped at what more he could have in mind. “Ass out.” He then growled and you did as you were told, your legs still rather weak from having just came moments before. Bending forward so as the palm of your hands were against the lockers, your back arched as you pushed out your ass towards him. You could feel him rub against you, and your pussy throbbed, still sensitive from before.

But before you could think twice, he was inside you once more and this time he was ruthless. Thrusting in and out of you, you could feel his hips rutting against your ass, his hands gripping onto your hips as he fucked you, hard.

“Fuck, Billy!” You moaned out, your hand slapping against the locker at the relentless pace he was going at. “Yes, right there, baby. Right there.” He was hitting you deep, the different angle causing your stomach to bubble and relight all over again.

Moulding your ass with his hands, he pounded faster into you, slick and easy as your cum worked as a lubricant.

“Is this what you wanted, princess? The way you were walking around in that tiny bikini, teasing and testing me, all you wanted was my thick cock inside your tight cunt, huh? You wanted me to fuck you like the dirty little slut you are.” He sneered, and fuck, was that hot.

You moaned out at his words, turned on even more. “Yes! Yes, just like that.”

“I want you to say it, baby.” He leaned forward, his head next to yours as he uttered the words, his voice so deep and sexy. But the way his cock was pummelling you mercilessly, your brain had gone foggy as all you could focus on was the immense pleasure that overcame your being. But Billy wasn’t happy with that.

Bringing his hand down hard against your ass, the pain spread like fire against your skin and you let out a ‘fuck’ at the shock and hot sensation of it. “I said, say it.” Billy seethed, his hand lifting from your hip as he took your face between his fingers, making you turn back to look at him.

“I’m a dirty little slut.” You managed to let out, a loud moan following your words when you felt his hand slap your ass again. “God, yes, I love your cock so much, baby. It’s so fucking deep inside me.” And Billy let out a low groan at your filthy words, bringing your lips to his in a messy, sloppy kiss before he pulled away.

“Shit, y/n, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for the next week, do you hear me?” He grunted heavily, pressing your body flat up against the lockers so as he was right behind you, his chest resting flush against your back.

He was so close, so deep inside you and as he railed you, Billy’s grunts were gradually getting louder and louder, a sign that he was nearing his end. And the constant sounds of your skin hitting each other battled for power but your moans and dirty talk claimed control. But then a sound neither one of you expected, took over.

The door to the locker room squeaked on its hinges, a sign that someone was entering the room. Instantly Billy halted his actions, the pair of you holding your breaths in anticipation of getting caught. Luckily, you were in such an angle from the doorway that whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you, so long as they didn’t walk further into the room that is.

And then footsteps echoing along the ground resounded around the room. Turning your head to Billy, you gave him a slightly panicked look, not exactly wanting to be caught in the position the two of you were in.

He brought his finger up to his lips in a hush gesture before peering past the lockers slightly to see if he could get a glimpse of who it was.

“Stewart,” he mouthed to you, and your eyes fell wide, your lip being pulled into your teeth in apprehension. What the hell was he doing in here? Was he not supposed to take over Billy’s duty by the pool? But then you thought that maybe he had been sent in to check the situation out, seeing as Billy had dragged you into a room followed by everyone else previously in that room being sent out; it was rather suspicious and it didn’t take a genius to work out what the two of you had planned to do in those circumstances.

Stewart’s footsteps soon stopped, and you looked in his direction where you could just make out the back of one of his shoulders. Then the sound of a locker opening followed and part of you felt relieved for perhaps he wasn’t there to scope out the situation and was oblivious to it all.

But unfortunately, Billy seemed to have caught on to that as well, when the palm of his hand lifted up to cover your mouth and you felt his hips pull back before shallowly thrusting into you.

Your eyes widened in shock at what he was doing, but you couldn’t deny that part of you got flustered at the thought of getting caught, adrenaline overflowing your veins. It was a dangerous game, but wasn’t everything when it involved Billy Hargrove?

You tried not to make any sound against his hand but then the sly bastard took his other hand and brought it round the front between yours legs, finding your clit. You could feel your legs begin to go funny, your eyes shutting tight at the added pleasure while you bit tenderly against Billy’s palm. You could hear him chuckle darkly against your ear at the state he had you in.

Finally, what felt like forever of trying to stay quiet, the locker door slamming shut and Stewart’s footsteps moving back towards the door bounced against the walls, and finally the squeaking hinges and bang of the door shut once more signalled Billy’s release of your mouth, allowing you to call out.

“Jesus, fuck!” You pushed off of the lockers, causing Billy to pull out and back off of you. Turning to face him, your eyes were wide, adrenaline and shock pouring out of you from his risky antics. “We could’ve gotten caught.”

He stepped towards you. “But we didn’t.” Billy smirked. “Now are you going to let me finally finish?”

Letting out a huff, you were caught off from Billy’s lips against yours once more as he backed you up against the lockers again. You pulled away from him, his lips still ghosting yours as he stared down at you through those deep ocean eyes. “I thought you said you were going to fuck me until I couldn’t walk for a week.” You whispered, raising an eyebrow at him with expectation.

And that was all it took for Billy to thrust himself inside you in one motion, his cock picking up where he had left off. His fierce rapid thrusts were so fast-paced and raw and sharp, rougher than he had ever done before, your mockery clearly giving him a point to prove.

“Is that it?” You asked, trying your hardest not to moan out in complete elation as you taunted him. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“The fuck did you say?” Billy barked, clearly not happy with your scorn. Bringing one of his hands upwards, you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, choking you lightly in challenge; in challenge to repeat what you said, and to see where that got you.

His hips pounded yours, bruises surely to be found in the morning at the sheer force and friction and his cock devoured your pussy, rutting sharp hard thrusts into you. Sweat glistened against his skin from the hot effort and his curls stuck flat to his head. God, Billy really knew what he was doing for you were intoxicated with pleasure.

But then you had the nerve to splutter out, ‘harder’ and his fingers tightened more around your throat, the dominance and aggression washing a whole new wave of fire to crash towards your core and you knew you were close to coming all over again.

Grasping a hold on your thigh with his free hand, Billy lifted it up allowing him greater access to your flourishing pussy and allowing him to sink even deeper if that was possible. His heavy grunts thundered your ears, your eyes screwing shut again at the overbearing amount of pleasure that coursed and captivated your every fibre. Muffled moan after moan, scream after scream was drawn from you with Billy’s thick cock.

“Are you going to come for me?” He asked, breathless and heavy. “Go on, princess. I want you to come all over my cock again. I know you can.”

And his hand was back on your clit, rubbing fast circles, getting you to your end as quick as he could.

“Yes, Billy. Fuck! Yes, yes, yes-“

And then your mouth was agape in overwhelming euphoria, your being blinded with bliss as your core finally erupted in upmost pleasure. Your whole body seemed to be paralysed for a moment as you were held hostage by your climax and all the while, Billy never ceased his actions. And then finally, finally, a deep moan of his own parted from his lips and you felt his hot release inside you, his head thrown back, his eyes nearly closed as he came.

And as the two of you came down from your high, you were both limp, exhausted, spent and satisfied. Your forehead leaned lazily against his shoulder, a gentle smile pulled between your lips, your orgasmic-clouded mind finally beginning to clear. Billy’s arms were wrapped around your back as he held you close, his chin resting softly against the top of your head.

There was comfortable silence between you, the pair of you revelling in each other and your luck each of you believed you had to have found one another.

“Wow.” You broke the quiet first, honestly partly in shock at all that had just happened.

“Yeah, wow.” Billy agreed, still holding you tightly. “You wanted it.” He added, and you could practically hear the smirk on his mouth.

“Oh, really? What gave that away?” You asked, sarcastically. It’s not as though that was the whole reason you came to the pool in the first place. Oh wait…

“It would have to be when you sucked my finger. I was completely clueless up until that point.” He replied, humour on his lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. Pulling back from you a little, his hands rested on your hips as he looked at you with an adoring smile; the first one you had seen since arriving at the pool. Then it faltered for a moment, before he asked, genuine concern laced through his words. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“For the last time no.” You replied, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “You ask every time we fuck like that.” But your heart never ceased to burst with love and adoration for the boy and the genuine care he showed, something that had taken a long time for him to build up the courage to display to you over the course of your relationship. “If you’re too rough, I’ll tell you, ok? You don’t need to worry or keep asking. I promise.” You told him earnestly, before leaning in and giving a soft and gentle kiss, one that completely contradicted everything the pair of you had just done.

“Also, I win.” You added, a large grin captivating your entire face when you pulled away and Billy raised his eyebrow in question. “I have to admit it was a bit of a challenge, but I finally managed to make you give in while at work. So, I win, Hargrove.” You bragged, your glee contagious as Billy found himself grinning back at you.

For you see, earlier on that week the pair of you had been discussing Billy’s hidden enjoyment for his job and how serious he took it, and then your claim of being able to get him to hook up with you while at work was thrown out there. Billy had denied with great confidence that he wouldn’t crack, but in the end, you were right; you did win.

But nonetheless, Billy was still sure that he had won too; for even though it wasn’t a game, a challenge or a bet, he had still won you. And that was all that mattered.

A/N: Lemme know what you thought here (if you want) xx

PS. Was thinking of starting a tag list so if you would like to be tagged in any of my future works then also lemme know here xx

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove writing #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy #hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things writing #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery writing #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery smut #dacre montgomery x reader #billy hargrove imagines

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blehbleehhhh · 5 years ago

Text

Five Years Later (ft. EreMika💘)

Hey, Rock You Like A Hurricane anon! I’ve been sitting on this one for ages so it feels good to publish it. #sorryittookme5yearstowritelmao

PS: Please don’t be afraid to send in more requests! :)

The sound was loud and obnoxious following a stench of gasoline that overwhelmed Mikasa's senses, making her already angry migraine throb painfully as she sits in the car listening to music before school. That's when the thorn in her side roared into the empty parking space before her, just as Rock You Like A Hurricane blasted through her car speakers. It was a kowasaki motorcycle and its owner refused to wear his helmet out of clear defiance, so the result was a sexy windswept look. Mikasa hides that she's blatantly staring at this handsome young man behind her aviator sunglasses while he stabilizes his bike and runs a hand through his head of shaggy, chocolate brown hair. She finds herself feeling envious that his shirt gets to be so close to such a deliciously lean yet muscular body and, when he stands up to rummage through the trunk, she gets an appreciation of how cute his butt is in those jeans. Her eyes scan up in time to catch a glimpse of washboard abs when he slips into a black zip up hoodie. They seem to have been chiseled by the gods just like his jawline which is balanced out perfectly with a slender, clean shaved face. Emerald green eyes? How rare! But the only one she has ever known with piercing eyes like those moved away years ago. It can't be. It was almost as if her hand moved on its own accord to open the car door and she was already feeling exceedingly anxious when it slammed shut behind her. "Uh, Eren?" She approached him hesitantly, still unsure if this is who she believes him to be. "Eren Jaeger?" Everything seems to freeze around them as he slowly scans her over. Hell, Eren could recognize that angelic voice from anywhere. He knows precisely who this beautiful woman is that stands before him, and she looks nothing like the demure young girl he used to know. That Mikasa wouldn't have been caught dead wearing a crop top, pristinely white vans, and tight skinny jeans that extenuate slender long legs. Not that he's complaining, though he does wish she wouldn't draw so much attention to herself because even his mind has begun to picture them wrapped around his waist. Raven colored hair only comes to her shoulders now instead of down her back and seems to be a current nuisance because it stubbornly insists on falling in her face. Absolutely stunning. Yes, she's a natural, timeless beauty who wears no makeup and has a tiny, barely noticeable piercing on her right nostril that's very flattering to such a petite face. One that he could easily gaze at all day.

"Hey." Eren's voice is so deep and smooth to her ears, that she can’t help but respond with an adorably awestruck face. He flashes his signature smirk as he watches her shyly tuck stray hairs behind her ear. How cute. "It's been five years." He maneuvers himself to stand once more and was surprised to see her lightly blushing, possibly at how tall he has gotten over the years.

"Nice bike." She smiles, nodding as if gesturing behind him.

"Yeah, thanks."

"What are you doing here? I thought you guys moved."

"Dad got a good job nearby, so we moved back here."

"Oh." Mikasa replies softly and adjusts the strap of her low hanging purse. His eyes remain glued on hers as he reaches into his back pocket for a box of cigarettes and removed one with his teeth, then stuffed the box back in his pocket. "You're, um," She smiles at his smirk as she watches him light the cigarette. "You aren't supposed to smoke on school grounds.." But it was clear that he wasn't anywhere near concerned, since he simply took a seat on his motorbike and flashed his trademark grin. He gives the end of his cigarette a light tap, sending excess ash into the breeze to be scattered across the pavement as he blows a puff of nicotine laced smoke away from her face.

"I genuinely do not give a shit what the school rules are."

"Color me surprised. What happened to you anyway? You're so different now."

"And you're not? Never pictured someone like you with a nose piercing," Eren snickers, shaking his head slowly as he draws from his cigarette. "Why do you care that I’m different anyway? You're the one who said that you wanted nothing to do with me."

"You're damn right I did! You were a jerk!" Mikasa hisses under her breath and watches him blow smoke away from her face once more. "I got tired of being treated like a doormat. Besides, I tried to mend things but if you recall, you were the one who shut me down." She narrows her eyes and he smirks remembering back to almost three years ago, where she had reached out to his old number but he ignored it. And he isn't even sure why.

"Know what? You're awful pretty when you want to kick my ass."

"I must be breathtaking then! Why do you look so amused?!"

"Probably because I am and yeah," Eren smirks as he drops his cigarette on the pavement and squishes it with his beat up converse, looking up into her eyes from where he sits on his motorcycle. They've softened considerably. Not what he intended, but this works. "You are very breathtaking." His words made her blush lightly, complimenting the widened gray orbs and cute tiny smile.

"Your, uh, your first period," She gestured at the school with a nod. "What is it?"

"Why?"

"Are you stupid? Because you don't know where you're -"

"I wasn't planning on staying."

"Oh." Mikasa nervously bites her lip and sighs as she holds her books to her chest. She turns to walk away wishing that she had taken the second excedrin, only to be stopped with a firm hand on the shoulder that prompted her to turn her head. Is he blushing?

"Wait."

"What?"

"Meet me tonight?" Eren looked so cute - smiling with bright eyes full of that same fire she remembers those emeralds having when he was a lionhearted young boy. He sticks his hands into his front pockets and she desperately wishes that she could catch this on film because it's so rare to see him bashful. Though her mind is abuzz from his sudden and welcomed affections, she decided that it would be fun if she toyed with him a little bit to make him work for it. After all, she has chased long enough, and now it was his turn to do the chasing.

"Why?" Mikasa grins as her eyes briefly flickered to his body, then to his incredible emerald orbs and dreamy smile. "You actually want to spend time with me now?" She found it highly amusing when he replied with a familiar laugh that's just as deep and smooth as his normal voice, and something that she has missed greatly over the years. He looks away for a moment like he wants to crawl under a rock and she wonders if things have already gone too far.

"Sure, why not?" Eren knows her all too well to not have seen this coming, where she subtly bats her long eyelashes at him while she waits for his response and bites her lower lip. He should have figured that she might be a tease and play hard to get.

"I'm sorry, but I already have plans." Her eyes wander shamelessly to his lips and she flashes a beautiful, toothy grin. Even though he had just been rejected, he honestly couldn't help but smile whenever she does, which used to irritate the hell out of him. If he were irritated, he would have tried to stop her somehow, but that's not what happened. She wants to look back and check if he's still watching, but her attention is now on with her best friend Sasha.

"Skip 'em!" Eren hollers between his hands and he smiles to himself as they fell awkwardly to his sides. He takes a seat on his motorcycle like he was ready to leave and found himself to be fighting the thoughts he has of her a lot less now. To say that he's looking forward to this little game of hers would be an understatement.

"Oh my god!" Sasha exclaims having recognized almost immediately who the young man was that's trying to pick up her best friend. "Oh my god, i-is that?"

"Yeah," Mikasa blushes and glances over her shoulder, helplessly smiling now that she’s seen him sitting on his motorcycle with his arms crossed on his chest, still watching her with a smirk. "Eren Jaeger is back.." She turns to her friend once more and just laughs at Sasha's knowing smile. It was later after school when Mikasa returned to her little car that she discovered an empty gum wrapper with what she presumes to be Eren's phone number scribbled on it, cleverly jammed underneath one of her windshield wipers. However, she was torn on whether she wanted to wait or text him some other time, which followed her long after she was on the other side of her bedroom door and laying in bed with the wrapper in her hand. She smiles to herself as she rolls onto her side and places the wrapper on the bed, staring out the window thinking through the encounter she had with Eren this morning. Oh god, it's already happening again, I can't stop thinking about him! She groans and covers her face with her hands as his handsome face continues to come to mind. These thoughts became distracting for her and made homework more annoying than usual, but she slept peacefully for the first time since he had moved away five years ago.

Eren wasn't even at school the next morning and she was admittedly disappointed after dreaming of starting over with him. Actually, he wasn't there often at all until Friday came along and he stayed the entire day, leading her to believe that Carla may have gotten wind of her rebellious son already skipping school. The estranged friends have a few classes together and constantly manage to catch each other's eyes either during Chemistry, Calculus, or moving between classes throughout the day. Mikasa wanted to make him wait until Monday, but now that it’s passed nine at night, she’s not so sure she can do that after such genuinely fun, flirty exchanges with him today. She chews on her lower lip and grabs his number from the top of her nightstand, then drops on the bed as she opens a new message to type out a simple greeting. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes when she presses send, knowing that all she can do now is wait. And while she was, her eyes had fluttered shut during a binge watch on Hulu, falling asleep almost immediately with thoughts of her day, having Eren back, and how much it truly meant that they're speaking again. The next morning, Mikasa wakes with a start and felt briefly irritated with herself for falling asleep so early. She pushes the home button on her phone and gasps excitedly to see that he had responded over night, about two hours after she fell asleep.

Eren: Miks?

Her heart jumped into her throat because he is the only person who calls her that. She smiles as she gently rubs her tired eyes, bringing the keyboard up so she can reply.

Mikasa: Yeah, it's me

Eren: Good morning, beautiful ;)

Mikasa: :) Did you still want to hang out..?

Eren: Fuck yes. Think your dad will have a cow to watch you ride off on a motorcycle?

Mikasa: Hahha, no, my dad is pretty cool. Don't you remember?

Eren: Idk, I always thought he'd be different when you started dating.

Mikasa: No, he's pretty much the same goofy guy he's always been :)

Eren: Cool. I'll pick you up at six?

Mikasa: Okay! I'm so excited :)

She sits her phone down beside her with its screen on and brought both hands up to cover her face, letting out a muffled scream of excitement. Then a small vibration on the bed caught her attention and made her look down.

Eren: Yeah, me too :) See you later.

Mikasa smiles at the jittery sensation coursing through her body, exactly how she felt after she once drank three mugs of coffee for a migraine. She searches through her contacts for Sasha's number to share the unbelievable news that she's going on a date with the one guy she has been head over heels for since they were children. The entire day dragged on knowing that Eren would be there later that evening to take her out. Is he going to kiss me? Oh my god! I don't know how to do that! She pulls up on the belt loops of her skinny jeans and gave her tank top that's neatly tucked behind the waistband a gentle tug until it barely hung over the front. Her mind raced while she got ready, and she was constantly checking the clock display on her lock screen. Mikasa examines the hour long result of her hard work in the bathroom mirror, though all she did was blow dry and straighten her hair, she feels satisfied with the results. Suddenly, the familiar obnoxious sound of a motorcycle echoed throughout the neighborhood and her heart rate skyrockets. "Dang! Dang!" She mumbles to herself, jumping around on one leg as she zips the side of her ankle bootie, then hurried out of her bedroom and practically ran downstairs, where she was greeted by her parents while they catch up on their show.

"Hi, ladybug," Came her mother's melodic voice from the living room. "Where are you off to?"

"I have a date."

"A date?" Her father asks. "With who?"

"Do you guys remember Eren?" Mikasa smiles and her parents looked at each other with a knowing grin before turning to their teenage daughter. They've seen this day coming for years. "Well, I have to go. He's waiting for me in the driveway. Love you guys!"

"Love you too sweetheart!" They hollered in unison and she rushes to leave, though she closed the door behind her carefully so it didn't slam. She sticks her key into the lock and the motorcycle revved playfully nearby, which only made her excited heart beat faster. Mikasa turns with a wide smile as she walks down the porch steps and was thrilled to see him already sporting that signature smirk she's been obsessed with for years. She smiles and pushes her fingers through her hair, twirling it absentmindedly.

"Hi.."

"You look fantastic, baby."

Her heart jumped.

"Wow, I love it when you call me that."

"Good, because I'd like to start calling you that now." Eren smirks as he reaches behind him to grab the helmet sitting on the seat and held it up to her. She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Humor me and put this on?" But she only gives a slow head shake and places her hands on her hips, something that he seems to find amusing if she's reading him correctly.

"Not if you aren't wearing one."

"Don't be stubborn."

"Okay, I know you want me to be safe and all, but I'm not wearing a helmet if you aren't going to wear one." Mikasa raised an eyebrow in irritation with how his face remains annoyingly amused. "God dammit! Stop looking at me like that!" She blushes when he responds with a laugh and tapped his fingerstips on the helmet. It's better than firing back at me.

"You're cute."

"Eren, I swear to god."

"Alright, alright, look. I only brought the one helmet, okay?" Eren offers it to her once again and smirks when she starts losing the fight against her grin, then takes the empty seat behind him as she slides the helmet over her head. It's difficult, but he manages to conceal the smile when she wrapped her arms around him for the first time in years. "Put your damn helmet on, hot stuff."

"It's on, it's on!" Mikasa giggles over the revving motorbike and tightly squeezes his waist as he turns in the wide driveway to take off the other direction. She still can't believe that he came back to her, and much more mature than when he left. The addition of how receptive he is to her affections and initiating something flirtatious is a wonderful addition. She knows him all too well not to notice these little touches to her hands at stop lights, since they barely touched before he left except for a few hugs where they lingered a little longer than normal. After ten minutes of breathing in his heavenly cologne and watching their little hometown go by, they finally pulled into an empty space at the park. Mikasa smiles as the bike is stabilized and carefully removed her helmet, shiny raven hair catching a light breeze. "The park?"

"Don't judge just yet. I'm not a complete douche bag." Eren briefly looks over his shoulder and smiles, then he stands up to offer her a hand. The immediate light blush on her cheeks was endearing to say the least and she smiles shyly as she takes his hand so he can help her to her feet.

"I didn't say you were one."

"Actually, you have managed to call me a douchebag at least twice since we started talking again. And hey," He pulls her right into his arms and smiles at her contagious giggle. "I love you." Though he wasn't expecting her jaw to actually drop, he shouldn't be too surprised given their sometimes explosive past.

But now they're starting over.

"I love you too.."

"That's good, otherwise this would be extremely awkward." Eren snakes his arms around her waist and smiles as she cradles his face in her hands. He held her close as they shared their first kiss and the already palpable sexual tension became all the more apparent. And when she pulled away, he found himself to be craving more of those sweet kisses. "Fuck, now I have to go to school just to make sure nobody is making moves on my girl."

"Eren Jaeger," Mikasa grins and lightly rubs her thumbs across the dimples on his cheeks. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"I think so?" He chuckles and nods his head, then released her from their embrace to take her petite hands in his. "That was my intention at least."

"It's about time. I’d love to be your girlfriend." Mikasa smiles and her cheeks grow hot as he sweetly kisses the tops of her hands. "Now, tell me why we're at the park when the sun is going to set in the next few hours!" She bounces twice on her feet and allowed herself to be gently pulled forward by the hand so they can stroll away together.

"I haven't managed to get a job yet since I've only been back for, like, maybe a month, so I can't afford to take you anywhere nice at the moment -"

"But you know I don't care about anything like that..."

"Miki, just shut up and appreciate how much of a secret hopeless romantic I am." Eren smiles and pulls his girl closer to cover her eyes with both hands. They soon come up on the tree where he has set up a McDonald's bag on a large quilted blanket underneath. It's the same tree that they used to play under and chase each other around as young children until they grew out of such activities. When they were finally close enough, he uncovered her eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Do you remember coming here?" He whispers in her ear and rests chin on her shoulder, smiling to himself when she gasps softly into her hands.

"What a silly question, of course I do." Mikasa smiles as he kisses the side of her neck. "McDonalds doesn't bother me, though, seriously. You're way too hard on yourself."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not surprised at all."

"The minute I can afford to, though," Eren smiles and moves back to spin her around so he can see those beautiful eyes once more, then gently cradled her cheeks in his hands. "I'm going to take you to the best restaurant in town." And before either knew what hit them, their lips were colliding once more in a loving kiss that's much drier than the first they shared five minutes ago back at the bike. His hands fall from her cheeks to take one of hers and he laced their fingers together as she pulls her lips away, bringing the top of her hand to his smirk for a kiss. She smiles wide and reaches up to push long brown hair away from his forehead, then bites her lip with a look of longing.

"I love the shaggy look.."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, come on, surly you're aware of how handsome you are..." Mikasa smiles as he leans in to plant a kiss on her lips and lightly squeezed his hand. "So, can we eat now? I'm starving." And together they sit on the large blanket Eren brought, one with his back against the wide tree trunk, and the other sitting in his lap while they eat together. The young couple catch up on life, sharing what the other has missed during their time apart. It wasn't long until she was laying on her back with her head in his lap while one of his hands rests on her cheek, lightly stroking soft milky skin with his thumb. The sun's evening rays dance across her face as leaves rustle in the trees from a gentle breeze. "I've really missed you, Eren.." Mikasa smiles as his thumb swipes across her lower lip and gives it a soft kiss that made him chuckle.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry I treated you like shit."

"I forgive you."

"Just like that?" He raises an eyebrow and smiles when she reaches up to gently touch his cheek.

"Just like that. I mean, as long as you keep being good and don't go back to treating me like crap," Mikasa offers a small smile and it seems to settle the two teens because they both know that he's a man of his word. "And we're good." She gently moves her hand up into his hair, which is easily just as soft as she remembers from the very few times he had actually let her touch it. For some reason he isn't certain of, Mikasa's touch even in the simplest context has always make him feel like he's going to lose control, and it used to irritate him. Especially when he couldn't keep his heart rate under control. But now he doesn't care, perhaps it's because he has made peace with these feelings she elicits.

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous."

"Thank you.." Mikasa smiles and maintained his gaze while she gracefully moves on all fours to crawl in his lap, straddling the hardening length that hides in his jeans. Both teens blush redder than a tomato. "Wow, I never imagined that I'd get to do this." She bites her lip and chuckles in disbelief as he wraps his arms around her waist, then leans in to plant a deep, sensual kiss on her lips. She rests her hands on his chest as they continue to kiss and happily allows him to sit forward with her pressed flush against his solid form. Mikasa wraps her arms around his neck and their kissing immediately grows hungry, even while she was being carefully laid on her back. She captures his waist with her legs in the hopes that he would get the hint that she's definitely interested in proceeding further and he caught on rather quickly. Possibly because he's so much more aware of her affectionate ways.

"What do you want from me?" He removes her hands from his hair and laces their fingers together, then carefully pins her hands to the ground.

"Honestly? I just want to be with you..." Mikasa smiles sweetly as their lips meet once more in a steady, eager pace and squeezed his waist with her legs. It's true. It's what she's dreamed of since she fell hard for him all those years ago, though the thought never crossed her mind that she would get to do this with him. But here she is, willingly pinned to the blanketed grass by the only guy she's ever had her heart set on. She sighs softly into his mouth and pulls her lips away just enough to say: "But you absolutely must quit smoking."

"That's fine," He smiles and gently rubs his nose alongside hers. "I'll just focus on my newest addiction."

"Oh!" Mikasa giggles into the sudden deep, kiss that made the two teens long for more. "That's me, isn't it?" She bites her lip and he chuckles, rolling his eyes before proceeding to bury his face in the side of her neck, deliciously exposed from red fabric. He leaves kisses across her skin and his hand abandons hers to slowly rub across her stomach where the fabric of her jeans begins. She shudders slightly from his touch and reaches down to guide his warm hand beneath her shirt, then pushes it further up gradually until his fingers were gliding over her lacy bra. Mikasa moans softly as she makes him gently squeeze her breast and it causes a familiar stir below the belt for the young man. He pulls away quickly because he needs relief, but was truly surprised that she wanted to do something so private out in public. But it's that look in her eyes telling him that there are absolutely no signs of hesitation, because she wants him as much as he wants her.

"Are you sure you want to do this here? We can find a bed, you know."

"But with the moonlight - it's so romantic," Mikasa bites her lower lip and blushes. "Besides, there's a blanket down, I'll be okay." She smiles as their lips collide, then allowed him to push her shirt up over her bra covered breasts while she reaches between them and fumbles with his belt. He smirks against her lips and lets his kisses wander down her chin, then her neck, only to pleasantly be buried roughly in the valley between her breasts. She moans her appreciation as he bathes her milky mounds in kisses, carefully working a hand past his boxers to touch the length inside. He groans at the welcomed surprise and frees her breasts from only the cups of her bra, then pressed his lips to her nipple. She hums happily as he takes it into his mouth and suckles gently, paying careful attention to how her body responds to his touch. It seems obvious that she prefers the soft, attentive touches the most, at least for now. He chuckles when he feels her pulling down on his belt and jeans, then slowly removed his lips off of her now perky nipple.

"Anxious are we?"

"No, more like excited.." Mikasa smiles as she watches him sit up on his knees to help free one leg from her jeans and panties, then pushed them half way down the other. "I've been thinking about this moment for a long time, you know." She watches in amusement and the most adorable blush as he pushes everything to his knees, making his erection spring out full strength. She reaches for his shirt to pull him down on top of her and they both smile as their lips collide in a slow steady pace. He reaches down between her thighs to play with her wetness, his fingers slow and gentle as they rub flat on her clit. Mikasa moans into his mouth as her hand wanders to stroke the hot length. The sensations of having someone else touch them somewhere so private was lovely to say the least and they're both certain this will be happening frequently from now on. Once he was satisfied with how sufficiently wet she is, he pulls his hand away and wipes what remains of her on the sensitive head of his length, then carefully presses himself to her slit. She wraps her legs around his waist and gently nibbles on his lower lip as he slowly presses inside and was pleased when her kisses grew much quicker in pace. It's the first time for both, and their hearts are racing excitedly. She squeals softly in discomfort and he stops completely when he begins to taste the saltiness of her tears. He gently cradles her cheeks as he softly kisses her tears away and she smiles up at him, giving a small nod to proceed. He raises his eyebrow and she understands that he's concerned about continuing if it's going to hurt, but she insists.

"You're so beautiful," He smiles, giving her lips loving, tender kisses that did seem to settle her considerably. "I mean it, I haven't even seen you in five years and you still managed to take my breath away. It's rude, really." He chuckles, her soft giggle assuring him that she's coping with the temporary pain and discomfort. They continue to kiss and he slowly pushes in deeper, making her moan pleasurably this time around much to his relief. She kisses him hard and he happily lingers inside because there really isn't any rush, they have plenty of time before he has to take her home. He has no problem laying here and kissing her as she adjusts to that new fullness she has. Her kisses eventually slow and she was grinding against him sensually. That was his cue, and his hips retreat only slightly before he slowly pushes back inside, then he repeats the steady pace that wasn't too fast or too slow, just perfect for their first time. Moonlight, stars, could it be any more romantic? Mikasa pulls her lips away and gazes up at him as she returns his thrusts. Her hands slide up into his hair and they study each other's eyes intently as their rapid breaths continue to be shared between their lips and occasional tender kisses.

"Faster..." She moans louder as she's given what she desires and he smirks, then pressed his lips to hers to swallow her moans. It wasn't long until he made her climax and he was moving slower to draw it out. Mikasa smiles against his lips as their kisses grow rough with need and he starts up again, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He gives his girl exactly what she wants and humps her faster to quickly bring her to another orgasm. Eren smirks inwardly when he feels her insides quiver and groans in approval, pulling out just in time to drain his pulsating erection across her abs. She giggles excitedly as he pulls away and carefully readjusted her bra so her snowy breasts are nestled behind the cups. "Did we really just have sex?" Her smile widens as she reaches for the McDonald's bag to get a napkin that he immediately took from her.

"I can't let you clean up the mess that I left on you, I'm not a pig."

"No you're not, quite the opposite actually," Mikasa smiles as he carefully swipes the napkin across her stomach to clean off his goop. "And actually, now that we're hanging out, you definitely haven't changed that much. At least around me."

"Nope, and neither have you. Though I gotta say the little piercing is really sexy on you."

"Really? My ears are still pierced, too. I'm thinking about getting my cartilage done next."

"I support that." Eren smirks as he helps her into the other pant leg, then turns his attention to tucking away his satisfied length. He watches her wiggle around on her back into her jeans and fasten them, then she sits up quickly to crash her lips against his. I can definitely get used to this. He wraps an arm around her and smirks, his fingers pushing carefully through her hair to keep it back. She smiles and continues to kiss him because it truly feels so good to finally be able to do so. "Damn, I could kiss you all day."

"Me too..." Mikasa smiles as their lips meet again and they kiss enthusiastically. It's the start of something new, that much is clear, and they can't wait to see what the future has in store.

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