#i should stop here bc i don’t have enough time to list off everything i love about that book | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

odinsblog · 7 months ago

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Have you ever been over something, and then years later, someone, out of the blue, brings it up and it really just knocks the wind out of you?

Okay, so this is about high school. I’m nearly 40, so that’s multiple lifetimes ago, right?

I’m pretty sure that I’ve posted about this here at least once, but I can’t find the post to link to it

Here’s the deal

In high school I wasn’t …. hmm …. Idk exactly how to describe it. I played sports (track, football, swimming), but I wasn’t POPULAR popular, right? But I also wasn’t NOT popular

My high school (in Florida) hadn’t been desegregated for very long, and there weren’t a LOT of Black students but there was enough of us so that we felt as comfortable as you possibly could given the circumstances

But I was like a universal joint: I played well with others and I fit in well with almost everyone, and if you don’t include some of the overtly racist teachers, I had almost no enemies (don’t get me wrong, I definitely had my share of fights with school bullies, but after you win enough of those, they kinda stop trying you)

Anyway,

I cannot even tell you why, but for some reason in senior year I decided to run for president of the student class

Wild, right?

So after all of the preliminary votes, it narrowed down to two people (I was more surprised than anyone that I actually made it that far - I guess bc I never really expected to win, maybe running for student class president was kinda like a high school bucket list thing for me?)

Anyway, my final opponent was a white guy named Bill. I knew Bill because in high school somewhere along the way, it was impressed on me that I should participate in as many non-athletic extracurricular activities as possible, to make me a better rounded person, and I was in the SUPER FUCKING RACIST Interact Club with Bill. How racist was Interact, you ask? Well, you had to “apply” for membership to Interact. When I applied, I had no idea what it was. I just knew that my student counselor had suggested it to me, and why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(my graduating class was 2,500 students large, so it wasn’t as big as some of the schools I had attended up north, but it was “big” for Florida)

A teacher was responsible for actually running Interact, but the students really RAN it, know what I mean? Even though I had been working since I was 10yrs old, my Interact Club interview was probably my first real interview. It was kind of a big deal. Like, you had to schedule it and dress up for it and everything. And if you got accepted, your name got put up on a placard, prominently located on one of the main halls of our school

My first interview question, from the teacher in charge of the “club,” was: “Can you take racist jokes against Black people without getting angry?”

WTF??

To say the least, I was 100% completely caught off guard—I knew what racism was, and I definitely knew that it was present in my school, because I’d experienced it firsthand from other students and teachers, but for some reason I wasn’t expecting it to happen at Interact Club. Silly me

I suddenly became acutely aware that I was the only Black person in a room full of white people: the teacher/advisor, about 10 students who were already members of Interact, and mf Bill. Because OF COURSE Bill was already in Interact, and he was just grinning from ear to ear as I sat there in front of the classroom in this fucking “interview” from hell

BUT…! Anyone who knows me knows that one of my core personality traits is, if I get hit—no matter how hard—I always always always hit back. After a moment or two, my response was: “Yeah, can YOU take racist jokes about crackers?”

NGL, I’m not known for my quick wit, or always having the deftest or best clapbacks, but I surprised myself. I really patted myself on the back for that one

Nobody said a word for what seemed like an eternity. It was enough time that I still remember wondering if I might get detention or suspended or something

Finally, the teacher just said, “Okay. You’re in” and he got up, and quietly left the room. Leaving me alone with Bill and 10 not very amused white boys. Bill wasn’t grinning anymore

One or two of the guys got up (I was fully ready to fight, and I was cocky enough to believe that I could take them all down), but they just shook my hand, congratulated me and then they all left the room too

I would later learn that I was the first Black student in my county to get (“accepted”) into the Interact Club. This motif of, “first Black person to…” would follow me around in a lot of aspects in life, until my late 20s

Now, fast forward to the day before Election Day for student body president. It was my very first time giving a public speech. To a crowded auditorium full of my classmates. It was a little bit nerve wracking, but once I got into it, it was easy peasy. Enough so that I actually remember relaxing on stage and even ad libbing a few jokes into my speech. All in all, it wasn’t a bad experience. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it

Lmao, I made a shit ton of promises that I had no idea how I would keep, like getting the school to play music from the local Black radio station in the cafeteria during lunch—and the auditorium exploded in cheers and applause with this impromptu commitment of mine. Like I said, it was a good experience

Bill gave his speech, but I remember it being flat, bland and boring (kinda like Bill) and there was a smattering of claps here and there, and I distinctly recall thinking, “Is Bill really bombing here?” It surprised me because I was like, he had home field advantage, right? I mean, I could count on the Black students to vote for me, but collectively we didn’t account for more than about 15% of my student body class. We had to be bussed in. Bill shoulda been killing it. He had home field advantage, right??

The day after our speeches, was voting day. The principal told Bill and I that we would each be given the results in person before last period, and then the winner would be announced via intercom at the end of the school day. The principal made it clear that the loser would be expected to gracefully accept the outcome and shake hands with the winner. He was looking directly at me as he said this, but it didn’t bother me that much because I never really expected to win. I was outnumbered, but I was proud of myself for making it this far. And everyone who I passed in the hallways was telling me, “Don’t worry, O, I voted for you. You got this in the bag.” A surprising number of white kids were saying this to me. The football team, cheerleaders,… like … a lot of white kids. Hmm… interesting

Weirdly, the closer that me winning seemed like a real possibility, the more I wanted it. But there was no fucking way that I was going to actually win

In the middle of that day, announcement day, I was called to the principal’s office via the p.a. system. I was shaking walking down to the office

I made my way into the office and the school secretary smiled at me and told me to go to another room down the hall where “they” were all waiting for me

And now I’M SUPER NERVOUS

I get to the closed door of the room, take a deep breath, gather my nerves, open the door and go in

And the ONLY people in that room are Bill and that fucking Interact Club teacher, and a few members of the Interact Club. Bill is wearing this giant smirk on his face, and the teacher is smiling. “You lost,” the teacher bluntly told me. “Now shake hands with Bill”

And I start to shake hands, because all of the wind is rapidly leaving my sails, and I’m literally deflating in front of everyone, but just before my hand meets with Bill’s hand, I pause and ask, “How much did I lose by?”

This wasn’t me trying to buy time or anything, I genuinely wanted to know. I was just curious. The teacher looked like this question caught him off guard, and he looked back at two of the students, and then they looked at each other, and they whispered to each other, and then one of them raised one finger, and the Interact teacher said, “You lost by one vote”

Somehow, that was even worse than losing by a hundred votes

And Idk where this presence of mind came from, but I asked if I could get a recount (losing by one vote wasn’t sitting right with me)

The Interact teacher said he didn’t think that was allowed, but he must have seen the look on my face (I was definitely going to go ask the principal) and he gave me a disapproving sigh and said, “Okay, we’ll do the recount. Come back in an hour.”

And I was like, “WHO will do the recount?” and he gestures to the Interact Club members and himself

Oh. Okay.

I just walked out without saying anything. Bill and his friends and the racist teacher were in charge of the vote counting. Great. Fine. Whatever

Needless to say, when the “recount” was done, I still “lost” but this time, I was told that I lost by 2 votes

So yeah, it wasn’t thee worst thing to ever happen to me, but it left a really bad taste in my mouth, ya know? After it was announced to the entire school, everyone was coming up to me for days afterwards telling me that they voted for me and they couldn’t believe that I didn’t win

I always believed that I had won, but it was high school. Whatchagonnado? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It wasn’t a life defining moment or anything, it was just something that happened, but it’s not lost on me that I still recall everything as if it happened last week

But I did let it go and I moved on

It’s something that I haven’t thought about literally in years. Decades, in fact

Until recently

I was out running one morning and a guy was going in the opposite direction and he kinda stared at me as I went around him. And then he yells, “Hey, is your name Odin?” and I stop and go back and tell him yes, and we start talking, and it turns out that he went to my high school. I completely do not remember him, but whatever. It’s always kinda nice to see old faces from old places

So after a few minutes we do the obligatory, “hey let’s exchange phone numbers and keep in touch” thing, but even though I gave him my phone number, I had absolutely no intention of ever contacting him. I’m busy. I got shit to do

Maybe a month later, I get a phone call and it’s the dude who I bumped into who knew me from high school. So in real time, it’s last week

We’re talking and I’m ready to hang up after about 30 seconds, but I don’t want to be rude so I let him keep talking and waited for the right moment to jump in and throw in an excuse to end the call

He’s going on and on and says, “I know you didn’t recognize me that day, but I was trying to talk to you and tell you something, but you seemed like you were in a rush…” and I’m thinking to myself, yeah, much like right now, and for some reason I get unusually blunt (in social settings I’m normally more patient and accommodating, but something felt off, and I really was busy)

Then he says, “I need to tell you something, but I …”

Long silence

Look, man, whatever it is just say it

“Thanks, I just never thought I’d … I want to get it off my … (long sigh)”

Just say it

“You won that election back in high school. I was one of the people counting the votes. You won. You won by a lot. We gave it to Bill”

……

#and i havent stopped thinking about it since last week #it feels like i *just now* lost something physically #a post about me #im not surprised but still #i feel silly for letting this bug me still

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another-blues-clues-day-hooray · 2 years ago

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Debunking “Film Theory: Blue is Not a Dog”

(I typed this post title before even watching the video. I just knew. And I was right.)

We start off with his claim “all these years we’ve been led to believe that Blue is a puppy. But, she is anything but.”

If Blue is not a puppy...then why did she come from a book that was literally called “About a Puppy”? (og series season five episode twenty nine Blue’s First Holiday). That itself should be enough to disprove the theory, but let’s humor him.

He goes on to argue that Blue’s age in the reboot is evidence for her not being a dog, saying that she shouldn’t still be alive. But the reboot is a different universe from the original. You want to know how I know that it’s a different universe? Because if they’re in the same timeline, that would mean they met Periwinkle for the first time twice (og series season three episode twenty one Blue’s Big Mystery vs Blue’s Clues & You’s season three episode one Our New Neighbor). I’d also look forward to seeing his explanation on why, if they’re the same universe, Miss Marigold mysteriously turned into a hippo and Green Puppy got Thanos snapped.

He claims that this is definitely the same Blue from the original series, but his evidence for that is flimsy - saying it’s solely because Steve and Joe talk to her. But that literally does not mean anything regarding whether or not it’s a different timeline if you stop and think about it - the BC&Y timeline is so similar that Steve and Joe probably raised her in that timeline too.

He also goes on to say that Blue can’t be a dog because she has aposable thumbs. It’s almost like...and I know, this is wild, but it’s almost like...Blue comes from a different universe than the one we call reality (Blue’s Big City Adventure seems to establish that pretty well) and so dogs can have different anatomy in different universes? Same goes for his stupid “real dogs can’t eat chocolate ice cream” argument too.

This is just a nitpick but MatPat, when retelling Moona’s story in Legend of the Blue Puppy, says “a litter of puppies just appeared out of nowhere” when Moona literally says they were “born”. Aka they had a mom, we just didn’t see them, they didn’t spawn out of nowhere.

His argument about Blue’s Room not following a normal time is valid. But it’s not valid in the sense of “obviously Blue is an alien”. Blue didn’t make her room, it was given to her, so while it’s perfecly valid to wonder about the time passage issue, I don’t feel like this is something that can be used against her.

The part about Rainbow Puppy seems to have absolutely no evidence attached to it whatsoever other than “Rainbow Puppy is more powerful and is also probably the same species” (I know that Rainbow Puppy is definitely a dog and so is Blue, but I say “probably” because MatPat is trying to argue that neither of them are dogs).

I also love (read: hate) how he argues that Blue unlocking her room changes everything because “it’s all about you now” and “Joe isn’t allowed in there” when Joe has been in Blue’s Room several times. There’s too many to just list here - go look at a Blue’s Room episode guide and see for yourself. (No, I don’t mean a Blue’s Clues episode guide, Blue’s Room is a separate series).

I don’t understand his argument that because Blue stood on two feet in Blue’s Big City Adventure, she’s becoming a “higher evolved being”. She’s stood on two feet several times prior to that. Like a lot. Just for one example, go back and rewatch the scene where they’re reading the About a Puppy book and you’ll see it too.

He’s using Blue’s abilities seen in Blue’s Big City Adventure (skidooing into New York City, bringing objects to life) as evidence for his theory but none of that means she isn’t a dog. That just means she’s a magic dog.

I cannot believe he used Skidoo World being rainbow colored as evidence that Rainbow Puppy controls the world and that Blue is on her way to take control of the world too. The lgbt pride flag is rainbow colored too, does that mean Rainbow Puppy controls the gays? (As a gay person myself I can confirm the answer to that is no).

Yes, Blue came into existence from a book. But that doesn’t make her an alien, and do you know why? Because that book still existed in Storybook World. So it’s more like she moved in from another state/city.

Never go against a tumblr user when the integrity of Blue’s Clues is on the line.

#blue's clues #blues clues #matpat #film theory #the film theorists

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sillycyan · 1 year ago

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There is so many things I want to start as hobbies and what not, but they are way too expensive to truly dive into.. SO INSTEAD IM GONNA LIST EM + go on random side rants

TLDR: Take care of ferrets, skateboard, biker, art, vtuber, open sticker shop, collect manga and figures, scriptwriter, and learn Russian.

I definitely want ferrets in the far future. There has been hours on hours of research and planning to make it happen (ᗒᗣᗕ) This is something that does have to wait a few years when I’m financially stable and sticking to things in the house.

Skateboarding.. I have a board, but it’s a very DOOKIE one so around this month I’m gonna stop by a shop for a new one. The main problem here is that I live in a city so there is really no places to skate around and I already feel judged just being outside.. Imagine me on a skateboard??? I’m dying??

Hear me out on this one.. BIKER.. I recently have been really looking into motorcycles and when I do move out of the city (x_x) I’d truly rather be on a bike then in a car for reasons I will NOT explain. Cost wise it’s pricey, will have to be long term, and 100% is being my whole personality

I have been drawing on and off for a few years but with that I can’t trust myself to turn it into something serious as I have already quick multiple times for months to years at a time. I already own a drawing tablet, you not catching me on paper, and I already have a start. With art I feel forced to start commissions because it’s already so pressured to make money off it and that ruined the fun for me.

I want to stream as a vtuber soo badd!!! I already have a model now and plan to stream on my own time, but I’d love to be in an actual agency. Ofc I probably won’t be good enough for any because IM BLACK and it’s impossible to even get into any big names with that factor without being forced under a white and/or japanese persona… but it’s worth a shot yk?? Half throwing shade at the main vtuber agencies bc holy the racism in the community alone is horrible D:

Very sadly I got all the boring hyperfixations so I weirdly wish I could start a little sticker shop (-_-) Just for very cute random sticker sheets.. I collect stickers because it’s fun even though I haven’t use them because I don’t like to decorate my items with colors. Weirdly ties into how I’m a minimalist and I should never have kids because they would be the iconic “sad beige baby” GOD FOR BID I HAVE A GIRL oh my god they will never see the color pink ever (helps the color stereotypes ig)

Reallyyy REALLY want to collect manga. There are a few series I really just want to own and read SO IMA LISTEN EM HEHHE.. Banana Fish (own 1-9), Goodnight PunPun, Vagabond, A Girl on the Shore, Blood on the Tracks, Doomsday With My Dog, Chainsaw Man, Dandadan, Doubt, A Man and His Cat, and other names I’m not abt to remember..

Along with collecting manga I would love to collect figures, just a good few anime and game ones. Then just a whole bunch of Miku, but I’m stopping the blue aesthetic for my area and changing it to GREEN.. Really want the Banana Fish and Little Nightmares figured soo badd!!!!3!:?:!(:&36:

I cant drop too many details but.. scriptwriter.. I just think I could sit down and do that. NOT DROPPING SPECIFICS BC ITS EMBARRASSING SOO NEXTTT

Not sure if I can count this here, but I really want to talk time to learn Russian..? Show I’m fixated on and have been for years is in Russian and holy it made me wanna learn so baddd RAAAHHHHH

Just dropped 10 because no one is reading allat NOT EVEN I.. so if yew did read everything then helloo :))) I’m not gonna reread through nothing so sorry if it had bad spelling or grammar.. Rants don’t got time for allat

time to add a bunch of tags in relation to EVERYTHING update: not doin allat

#random rants #hyperfixation #I just wanna start hobbies man..#ermmm awkward #hobbies #raaahhh #cyanrants #CyYapOfTheCentury

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thegalaxysedge22 · 2 months ago

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After Ever - Chapter 4 (ALTERNATE VERSION)

pair: sylus/MC tags/tw: swearing, annoying MC word count: 4.7k song rec: nightmare by halsey (both bc of the nightmare but also the theme) a/n: this is an ALTERNATE version of chapter 4 without some violent gore also don't drink this much coffee important: if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction also if anyone wants i can start a tag list

you can find the unedited version of this chapter here

Kore jolted awake in a cold sweat that had plastered her hair to her face. The nightmare had been so vivid, the repressed memory coming back to life. She hadn’t thought so graphically about that moment in years. She had spent ages in therapy trying to cope with what she had seen, and stop her from reliving it all everytime she closed her eyes. Why did it suddenly come back to her? Why now? And why the actual fuck was Xaiver in it?

She had never recovered enough of that memory to get to know who her savior was, but she had always wondered. It had happened on the day of the Chronorift Catastrophe fourteen years ago and now that she had learned about Lumiere, the first Hunter, she couldn’t help but think that it might’ve been them all along.

I might just be making shit up, I mean I don’t even know if this Lumiere has an evol to begin with, she thought to herself. She decided it was as good of time as any to learn more about the legend.

Shaking her mouse to wake her computer, the clock read 2:38AM, she had been alone in the building for a while now. She did, however, sleep longer than she had intended.

Like an obsessed teenager, Kore started learning everything she possibly could about Lumiere. She went through blog after blog and forum after forum – she was pretty sure that she had stumbled upon Nero’s blog too, it looked just like what she had caught him so intently focused on. His dedication to Lumiere was clear as this was the most extensive and concise resource she could find, the scale .

The basics of Lumiere were what Nero had already told her, almost to a verbatim. However, she found out that Lumiere did, in fact, have a light evol. I knew it, she thought to herself. She can’t help but wonder if Xavier is a big fan of Lumiere as well.

The amount of knowledge Nero had accumulated about Lumiere was impressive to say the least. On the blog was an imprecise timeline of Lumiere’s heroics during the Chronorift Catastrophe. The blog made note of how the timeline should be taken with a grain of salt as it was primarily based off of eyewitness reports and that some of these reports seemed to overlap or place them at places too far apart to make sense.

Along with the timeline there was an interactive map. Kore was blown away by its accuracy. Somehow a majority of the locations had pictures of the immediate aftermath, the carnage, of course, was blurred out or covered up outright. Nero must’ve gotten his hands on the official 360 images, she was unsure if they were ever officially released to the public.

Not entirely sure of where her attack took place, Kore scoured the map looking for any places that matched her memory. She did this by clicking on random locations, without rhyme or reason, sometimes clicking on the same location more than once. The final location, in the middle of the map, was one that brought the fear back into her soul. She stared at the image of the place where she nearly lost her life fourteen years ago, the same place that housed her nightmare.

Impressively, there was even information about the wanderers behind each attack, the details there were especially sparse but it was shocking that there were any to begin with.

On the blog there was an “About” page, interested in what Nero had to say for himself, Kore clicked the tab.

Hello Lumites, my name is N.

When the Chronorift Catastrophe happened I was 5 years old, playing outside at the park when the Wanderers first came. I watched helplessly as they attacked my mother and baby sister. Just when I was sure I was about to be killed, a savior swooped in. It was Lumiere. They saved my life that day and I have never forgotten them.

I will spare you the details because they are both gruesome and could lead someone to my identity (there are many accounts of children like me being saved by Lumiere, so I am not worried about that being public). Since that day, I have devoted all of my free time into learning more about Lumiere and preserving their legacy. I will not let what they did for me and many others be forgotten.

Let the legacy of Lumiere be a light for us all.

Kore’s eyes were starting to become strained from all of the reading, she rubbed her temples in hope that it would relieve some of the tension. Alas, that was not meant to be and her head was still throbbing. Her stomach grumbled and so did she.

If she correctly recalled Zayne’s ever changing schedule, he should be getting off his shift about now. Knowing how bad he is at taking care of his own basic needs and the rumbling in her stomach pushed her to ask him to meet up for food. Besides, she had a lot to tell him. He said okay.

Kore and Zane definitely had a weird doctor/patient dynamic, one that would be questionable under other circumstances. The two had known each other their entire lives despite having had lost contact for a few years; they were basically life-long friends. He was also one of the very few people who were qualified to care for Kore’s condition, a condition which now made sense that it was so rare after finding out about the aether core.

The pair of them were sitting in a booth in the back corner of a 24-hour diner she used to frequent. The middle aged waitress had already come and gone, making Zayne squirm a little when she had called him “Sugar” before asking for his order. Surprisingly, Zayne had followed in Kore’s footsteps and ordered a large plate of waffles. Kore had raised her eyebrow at this and he had just shrugged and said something about when in Rome.

When their food came to their table Kore was busy pouring the last bits of the carafe into her mug. Zayne had already advised her that it was not wise to drink that much caffeine that quickly, especially with her heart. Kore had waved his worries off and it wasn’t like he could force her to do anything, so he had no choice but to accept her actions, but he did give her a disappointed stare everytime her hand went for the carafe.

“My oh my, you two sure got quite the taste for coffee now dontcha,” the waitress said, placing their food down. Kore practically had the carafe upside down trying to drain it of any coffee lingering. The waitress saw her struggle and plucked the container from her grasp saying, “Here, let me get some more for you, Sugar.”

“I know I said I would drop it, but it really isn’t good for you to be having that much caffeine,” Zanye said, “Have you been sleeping alright? I noticed the bags under your eyes and got worried about your sleep schedule. Have you tried-”

“Oh no, Zanye,” Kore interrupted, shaking her head, “we are not at the hospital. You are not going to go all clinical on me. I brought you here to talk more about the aether core.”

Zayne stopped cutting his waffles, lowered his head and sighed. With a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, he rested the backs of the utensils on the table. He looked back up at Kore, meeting her gaze and said, “And here I was hoping for a pleasant meal between two friends.”

She couldn’t tell if he was upset or not. He could be hard to read at times, but the flicker of humor in his eyes was all she needed to know he wasn’t offended. A smile blossomed across her face.

“Was that a joke I heard, Zayne,” she teased him.

He gave a smile back with a hint of mischievousness, although he was definitely still shy, he was far removed from the reserved child she knew growing up. She couldn’t help but wonder if that change happened during the few years that they had lost contact.

“You know how you mentioned that my health was on the decline?” Kore asked changing topics, to which Zayne nodded almost solemnly.

“Hypothetically,” Kore posited, not really wanting to give her plan away just yet, “if you were to be able to get ahold of an aether core, would that help with understanding my disease?”

“Yes it would,” Zayne said after a moment's pause, “but I don't see how you would be able to get one considering how rare they are.” It was clear that he wasn’t picking up what she was putting down. “However, if we were able to get ahold of an aether core it could aid in discovering more about your condition and why it is so unique.”

His response was cut short when their waitress came back with another pot of coffee. “Here you go sweetheart,” she said, refilling Kore’s cup, before setting it down. Kore greedily accepted the coffee, downing the cup before refilling it

“Thank you so much, you are my hero,” Kore said, singing the women’s praises.

“Oh bless your heart,” their waitress said with a laugh, hand over her heart, before leaving their table. Once she left, Kore turned back to Zayne and the conversation at hand.

“Well…” Kore started, “what if I told you that I could get my hands on one.”

Zayne sat up a bit straighter in his seat, leaning towards her. “Then I would be impressed. Right now they are purely theoretical, as we don’t have any confirmed specimens. But with all of the evidence we currently have along with Dr. Noah’s testimony, I would be inclined to believe in their existence. But I have to reiterate how ”

“Zayne, have you heard of the N109 Zone?” Kore asked, leaning in. Zayne faintly nodded, his quizzical eyebrows made clear that he was unsure of where this was going. “It’s important to know that the whole zone is well known for trafficking just in general.” Kore stopped, scanning their surroundings and leaned in even further, practically hovering over her food.

“Okay, so there’s this organization named Onychinus,” her voice dropped as she spoke, but her pace picked up the more she talked, “I have a lot of issues with them, but that’s a whole other thing. But they have been tagged as the largest trafficker of protocores – Oh, and one more thing you need to know, they are like this massive organization and have a lot of power in the N109 Zone – and so if anyone is going to have knowledge of illicit protocore modifications, it would be those fuckers. And if we’re lucky, they might even have an aether core in their possession.

“So, if I were to go to the N109 Zone and start mentioning aether cores, with the extent of their power it is likely that news of some random woman talking about an extremely rare, and by default, extremely valuable item would trickle back to whoever is in charge, right? It would likely be some person at the top of Onychinus, which would be useful, basically it would be like killing two birds with one stone! I could find out more about aether cores and even get my hands on one, and I would be able to confront Onychinus and make them pay for what they did to my family.

“Then I can bring the aether core back to you and you can study it and then hopefully we can better figure out what is wrong with me,” Kore finished her tirade with a manic look in her eyes. Zayne had been growing concerned about her well being as their interactions continued and this was just the icing on the cake.

“I thought you said that this was all hypothetical,” he said cautiously.

“It is,” Kore was quick to reassure the doctor.

Zayne was unable to determine how serious she was being; he had never been good at reading people’s intentions. He was well aware that sleep deprivation, which Kore was showing clear signs of, can make people become irrational, and add that to the intense grief she was experiencing, it really was unclear if she would do something so stupid. Deciding to err on the side of caution, Zayne concluded that it would be best for them both if he were to warn her about the multiple flaws in her plan.

“I hope that you are being serious Kore, this should all just be hypothetical,” Zayne started, “Going into a dangerous area that you lack local knowledge of with the intent of goading an organization that is known to be violent into finding you is a very bad idea. Announcing that you have a highly valuable item like that in a place you are unfamiliar with would make you a target and could get you seriously injured, or worse, killed.

“I know you know this but it bears repeating. Your life is not worth the possibility of finding an aether core to study when it still isn’t clear if it is indeed an aether core that is causing your condition, and even if it is you heard Dr. Noah say that there are other patients like that, so there would be other avenues for us to gain more insight into your condition.

“So while this is all hypothetical, I really want you to keep this all in mind, as not only your doctor, but also as your friend, your safety is important to me. I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Zayne concluded, hoping that she would understand the dangers of this idea and that it would stick to being strictly hypothetical.

Kore offered him the most convincing reassuring smile she could give knowing her mind was already made up, and that seemed to be enough to pacify Zayne’s worry. The two spent the rest of their meal laughing and chatting about unimportant recent events until it was time for them to both go home and get some much needed rest.

Kore spent most of the day lost inside her head, sleep largely eluding her. The gears in there had been working overtime as she had debated on Zayne’s words from the day before. She had made a run to the store for more sources of caffeine - at this point it was virtually the only thing keeping her going. And just her luck, by the time she had checked out it was downpouring outside. Fully unprepared for the rain, Kore cursed and pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt. Luckily, her apartment was nearby. Kore started the journey back to the safety of her home.

She saw the canopy of her apartment building up ahead. Knowing she was in the homestretch, she put her head down and sprinted towards the shelter. Unfortunately, as soon as she stopped being hit by the rain, she ran into and hit someone else.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry,” Kore said, lifting her head, “Wait Xavier?”

Xavier looked just as surprised to see Kore there, shaking like a stray kitten in the rain.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him quizzically.

“I live here,” he said.

“Well I guess it is a small world afterall,” Kore said, a wave of sadness washing over her when she remembered how often she had heard her grandmother say that. Brushing that pain off, she continued, “I live here too.”

“Oh,” Xavier said.

“How was work? Was it terribly boring without me?” Kore joked, bumping his shoulder as the pair made their way inside.

“It was a slow day,” Xavier said with a faint laugh. He hits the up arrow for the elevator and the two wait in relative silence.

“How-” “I-”

The two spoke at the same time, they both offered to let the other speak first. The dance continued for a little bit longer before they gave up.

The elevator doors opened and they both got in pressing their floors, Kore pressed 6 and Xavier 7.

“Oh wow, it looks like you live right above me,” Kore commented. Xavier hummed in response, causing her to huff in frustration before regaining her composure.

“I wanted to thank you for sharing your access with me, and I was wondering if you would be able to extend it to me for a bit longer?” Kore questioned with pleading eyes.

“I’m afraid that I can’t do that,” Xavier said, turning towards her “I wasn’t even supposed to do it the first time and if I do it again I fear that somebody might notice.” Kore’s demeanor deflated with that, clearly feeling dejected by his response.

“But I can tell you more if you come with me,” he continued.

“I would love to but I gotta put all of this stuff away,” Kore said gesturing to the bags of groceries in her hands. It was then that the elevator opened on her floor, but she hesitated before countering, “Why don’t you come with me?”

Xavier nodded at her request and they both departed from the elevator. They made their way down the hallways stopping at apartment number 634.

“Wow, I literally live directly above you,” Xavier commented.

Kore was struggling to get her keys out and nodded automatically before pausing once she got them in the lock, “Really? That’s crazy.”

She unlocked the door but stopped shy of opening it, “Wait, are you allergic to cats?”

Xavier shook his head, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“Okay, good I was just checking,” Kore said, finally opening the door. Almost as if on cue a small calico cat came prancing to the entryway, rubbing up against its owners legs as a greeting.

“I told you I’d be back, Harrold,” Kore said, her fondness for the older kitten making its way into her voice. She placed the bags of groceries down on the floor and scratched under the cat’s chin, “Xavier, this is Harrold, my cat.”

Once Xavier stepped further through the doorway, shutting the door behind him, the curious cat came over to him. After a thorough inspection, Harrold seemed to decide that Xavier was alright and brushed up against the guest as well.

“I actually found him a few months ago- I think maybe four – he was out in the alleyway out back eating out of a trash can, and it was pouring rain. The poor guy was soaked to the bone and stick thin, poor man looked almost pathetic” Kore scooped up the cat, kissing his face as she talked. Xavier let out a little chuckle, thinking about how earlier he had likened Kore’s appearance to that of a soaked stray cat when he ran into her outside.

“Obviously I took little Harrold in. The vet told me that he was practically on death’s door when I brought him in for a checkup,” Kore continued, “Also, he’s a male calico cat, which apparently is like super rare. The vet had said that she had never seen or even heard of one in her thirtyish years of experience. I think she said that they make up one out of every three thousand or something insane.”

Kore continued the story of how she had nursed the stray back to health and Xavier internally remarked on how much of a chatter box she was being, in fact, he cannot recall if she had ever been this relaxed and this talkative in his presence.

Upon finishing her story, Kore put the cat down, who was starting to squirm in her arms, and kicked off her shoes in the vague direction of the door. Xavier followed in her suit, placing his shoes neatly by the door.

Groceries in hand, Kore made her way deeper into the apartment, Xavier trailing behind her. She made quick work of putting everything away before she turned back to her guest, “So you said that you had some more information that you could share?”

“Let’s start with what you found out so far and I can try to fill in the gaps,” Xavier said. Kore guided them both to the table and they sat down.

“Basically I was able to gain a bit more information on the N109 Zone, including a little bit about it before the Catastrophe,” Kore started, Xavier’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. “There was also significantly more information about Onychinus, like how they seem to be connected to a lot of unexplained deaths of Ever researchers.

“There was also a bunch of information about Onychinus’ role in the protocore trade, which leads me to believe that they would definitely have knowledge of aether cores and likely have or have had them in their possession.” Xavier nodded along as Kore talked.

“They also seem to have had a role in the deaths of my grandma and Caleb,” Kore said solemnly before shaking off the negative emotions. She clapped her hands on the table, standing up, “Would you like anything to drink? I got tea, water, beer, and I’m about to make some coffee.”

Xavier accepted her offer for a cup of water, taking a small sip upon receiving it. Kore made her way back to the kitchen and started making coffee with the fresh beans she had picked up earlier. Once the noise of the grinder stopped, Xavier started talking.

“You’re on the right track with the aether core thing. From what I know Onychinus does deal with them, but primarily under-the-table. Aether cores are something that you really would have to be in the know to be able to get your hands on. It’s not like you could just waltz on in, ask for one, and be able to get it - you need to have an established relationship with Onychinus before they would let you in on something so valuable.

“I am not quite sure but I think that the knowledge of aether cores existence isn’t something that is kept hidden from people, but it's not like it is something that people would know a lot about. Because it is so widely sought after, many people try and manufacture them themselves, but it is such a dangerous process that very few succeed at it, and many die trying.”

Kore was surprised, she had no idea that aether cores could be manufactured, but if that truly was the case then it would make sense that the one in her heart was made as well. Following that line of logic, Kore convinced herself that if Onychinus could make them, then they were likely the people behind the one that she had. It was possible that the group just had strong ties to those responsible, but it was likely the doing of Onychinus themselves.

“I think I need to go after them, Xavier,” Kore said. “They can’t keep getting away with things like this. How many more innocent people have to die before they are stopped? How many more people need to be hurt?”

After a moment of silence, Xavier lets out a sigh, “I was worried you were going to say that.”

“Kore,” he said, looking her dead in the eyes, “you need to understand how dangerous this idea is. You have virtually no knowledge of this place, do you even have a plan on what to do when you get there? I don’t think that you are in the right state of mind to be making such rash decisions. You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep going down this route. Do you even have a plan? Have you thought about this at all?” Although his voice remained calm, there was worry in his eyes.

“I am not here to tell you that you can’t but you need to really think this through before you dive in head first or else something bad is going to happen,” Xavier concluded.

“Okay then what do you think I should do then,” Kore pushes back.

“I don’t think you should go at all,” he said in an uncharacteristic outburst of emotion.

“If I go I might die, but if I don’t go I will die,” Kore screamed back.

“What?” Xavier questioned stunned. Kore pours herself some coffee while he responds and rounds the counter sitting down at the table.

“Over the long weekend I went up to the Arctic and saw my old doctor. He told me about how other cases like mine typically have their patients experience a sharp and sudden decline in their health and then die within a year or two. Then he ran some tests on me and was shocked to find that my condition was deteriorating. He tried to brush it off like it was grief making me like this but there was something in his eyes that screamed that he wasn’t telling me the whole story.” Tears were welling up in her eyes when she met his gaze again, “I’m scared and I don’t know what else to do. With my whole family dead, what do I have to lose?”

Xavier suddenly understands what she meant, as he had felt it too, the haunting emptiness of losing everything that you hold dear. His gaze softened and he nodded softly. “If you are going to do it anyways, despite what I say, come up with a plan at least, please.”

“I do have a plan, I told you, go to the N109 Zone, find Onychinus to get an aether core and kill their leader, then come back home.” Kore said it like it would be simple, like she would be assembling furniture, not risking her life, which irked Xavier, it was clear she wasn’t understanding the gravity of the situation.

“That is not a plan, that’s an unrealistic outline,” Xavier said sternly.

“I did the research, I know what I am getting into, the details aren’t that important,” Kore said, squeezing her mug tight enough that her knuckles turned white.

“You know a lot of the information that you found is going to be outdated, right?” Xavier asked, frustrated “The government is slow at collecting intelligence, it isn’t going to be safe for you to assume that nothing has changed. Do you even know where you are going once you get there?”

Kore, suddenly grateful that she printed out that brochure, went over to her bag and plucked it out, along with a pencil. She slammed the paper in front of Xavier with a smug look, tossing the pencil on the table. Xavier reached for the pencil and immediately started altering the map, ignoring Kore’s objections. He crossed out roads and marked buildings

“I can’t tell you everything, but I can give you some updated information,” He said, going on to explain the lay of the land, including prominent hangouts for Onychinus members and important locations.”

“How do you know all of this, Xavier,” Kore asked once he was done talking.

“That is irrelevant,” he responded in a heartbeat, “also it is helping you so why does it matter how I know it.”

His answer raised Kore’s suspicions. The recollection of her nightmare earlier, the one where Lumiere’s face was replaced with Xavier’s, flashed before her eyes, and she remembered Nero saying how Lumiere was recently spotted in the N109 Zone. She was quick to dismiss that line of thinking, it didn’t make sense anyways.

Together, they hammered out a more concrete plan, determining the best places for her to go to as well as where she should avoid. Xavier still felt uneasy about the whole ordeal but Kore managed to convince him it would be alright. She also managed to get him to agree to cat sitting Harrold while she was away.

After Xavier left for the night, Kore quickly packed her bag with everything she could possibly need while she tried to figure out the best order of operations like she promised she would.

a/n 2.0: guess who we meet next chapter 🤭

#after ever fanfiction #i wrote this

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golden-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Audacity

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has a long list of reasons to hate John Walker. But the fake Captain America deciding to flirt with you, definitely takes the cake.

Category: Smut 18+

Warning: Jealous Bucky is just soft dom! Bucky, dirty talk, penetrative sex, slight chocking, closet sex, and just John Walker being annoying

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: trying out this new format bc I liked the way it look when I did the Spencer Reid fic. A small spoiler warning for the newest FATWS episode but other than that it’s like an AU bc this really has nothing to do with yesterdays’ episode. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

There’s a lot to hate about John Walker. The fact that he is trying to replace Steve as a cheap version of Captain America. His stupid face and the way he handles the shield. Even the way he speaks comes off as pretentious and arrogant.

But what really made Bucky seethe with anger is the fact that his little beady eyes would not stop looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes. Taking in every move and gesture you made. It made Bucky’s blood boil. He kept clenching and unclenching his fist. How haven’t you noticed his insisting fucking starring?

“Can you chip your teeth? Because I’m pretty sure you might by how clenched your jaw” Sam said, patting Bucky on the back. He just rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything.

There was nothing that can be done. They made a silent pack not to anger the imposter. The government had asked Sam, Bucky and you to help out with a smuggling ring that they have discovered and low and behold, their little Captain America got his ass handed to him. They basically begged them to help. Bucky almost screamed a Fuck no into their faces but you managed to hold him off from punching the soldier that appeared at your apartment.

You turned around and bent over to pick up something. You were unaware that the fake Captain America licked his crusty lips while looking at you. He kept eying you like a piece of meat. Bucky rolled his eyes again and turned to Sam who was quietly reading the reports.

“Can I punch him?” Bucky whispered to Sam.

“Do you want your pardon to be revoked?” Sam said to him, not even looking up from the reports.

“There’s nobody here. Y/N won’t say anything. You definitely won’t mind.” Bucky whispered, glaring at the blond man that kept staring at you. You clearly didn’t give a shit about him. Therefore, why was he still looking at you?

Sam rolled his eyes at his ex-assassin friend. “Yeah, and later we can steal the shield.” Sam looked up from the reports and pushed them to the side.

“Exactly! Yeah, now that’s a plan.” Bucky said excitedly, standing up from his chair trying to make his way to John before being stopped by Sam, who grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him back into his chair. Before Bucky could protest, he heard you whistle at them.

“Hey, guys! I think I have something.” You said. The three men surrounded you, while you were explaining how you found out the new base location for the smuggling ring.

Bucky tried his best to focus on what you were saying and your explanation, but he couldn’t help but notice that the Kmart version of Captain America was inching closer and closer to you. Didn’t this man have a wife? Bucky swore he read that somewhere. Why does he keep staring and getting closer to you?

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am.” The jackass said, when he “accidentally” bumped into you, he grabbed your waist and forearm to stabilize you.

“It’s okay.“ You told him, and let out a soft chuckle. Bucky felt his pen explode in his hand. The three of you turned to the pouty super soldier who just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the schematics.

You knew something was up with Bucky. He didn’t say anything. Not after the pen exploding incident. Not even when you were joking around with Sam. He loved making witty comebacks to your jokes. It was your thing.

But maybe it was John Walker’s presence that made it uncomfortable for him. You knew Bucky hated the guy, mostly cause he took Steve’s spot without earning it. But there was something more to this. Bucky has always had a staring problem, but the number of sharp glares he has been sending to Walker has been enough to alert anyone. You couldn’t comfort him, not without making it super apparent that you are dating. And Bucky had already expressed that he doesn’t want to publicize it unless it’s only Sam that’s around.

“Agent Y/L/N, I think I found something,” Torres said, signaling to you to go follow him upstairs. You took one last look at Bucky, who was still glaring at the oblivious John Walker.

“Damn, I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that around you all the time,” John said, staring at you walking up the stairs. More specifically, staring at your ass.

Bucky looked at Sam, almost begging him to let him punch the douchebag that is this man. But Sam gripped his forearm. Bucky will not lose his pardon like this.

“How about we focus on the damn mission?” Bucky almost growled. John Walker put his hands up.

“I’m sorry man. It’s just- look at her.” John sat back and leaned into his chair. From the distance, he could see you talking to Torres.

“C’mon man. You asked us for our help but we aren’t here to do all the work.” Sam said trying to be the peacemaker between the super-soldier with a murderous gaze and the soldier with the wondering eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” John said trying to go back to the records. You were descending from the stairs and walking over to them. John brought his attention back to you. The way your hips would sway when you walked. The confidence in every step. Everything Bucky loved, and apparently fucking John did too.

“Guys, I think we need to rest for today. I am a little bit burned out. I think we all are.” You said, with your hands on your hips. Bucky felt his heart clench, you did look tired. Especially because you were almost doing all the work and piecing all of the clues.

“That’s an incredible idea.” Sam said stretching in his chair. He also looked tired. It made Bucky feel bad that he has been focusing all his energy on glaring and not helping out. He almost felt guilty.

Almost because a surge of rage flows through him again. John “Can’t take a hint” Walker smirked at you while you were grabbing the files that were on the table.

Bucky didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye. To Sam or the annoying motherfucker that made Bucky want to break rule number 2.

“Woah, Buck. what are you doing?” You said while the brunet dragged you around the base. His grip on your forearm was hard but not enough for it to hurt. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you wouldn’t like it.

There was something about how Bucky was walking, the silence, the way he was searching for something but never letting go of you.

Bucky opened up a closet door.

“Get in, doll.” He whispered in your ear, in a low deep voice. You let out a gasp, feeling goosebumps all over your body. You looked at Bucky in the eyes, and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. You entered the closet space without protesting.

It was a small storage closet. It barely had anything in it so you felt cramped. You turned to Bucky, while he closed the door. The man stalked towards you and you walked backward till your back hit the wall. Bucky had you cornered, and you didn’t mind it.

“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky said, getting close to your face. His hands went to your hips, pulling you towards him.

“Buck, what are you talking about?” You whispered to him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took one of his hands off your hips. Placing it on your neck, lightly applying some pressure to it. You gasped at his touch, he chuckled a bit at your reaction.

“C’mon darling. Did you have fun playing around with the imposter Captain America? I mean he had fun looking at you. So I’m assuming that you had fun being looked at.” He said, with his hand still on your neck and his face inches away from your face. You looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t notice that. Well, I did. Maybe I should teach you who do you belong to. Would you like that sweetheart?” He said, his breath tickling your lip. You nodded, breathless. Bucky smiled at you.

The hand that was around your neck, went to your chin. Grabbing it and pulling you closer so that your lips would meet. His hands started to wander across your body, while yours looped around his neck.

Your kisses started to grow hungrier, more desperate. As if Bucky spotted kissing you, you would fade away. His hands reached the zipper of your pants and pulled it down. Not even breaking from your kiss, Bucky managed to push your pants down. You break from your kiss to get out of them, while Bucky took off his pants and underwear.

He didn’t wait. He pushed you softly back on the wall and started to leave kisses and soft bites all over your neck.

“Jump, baby girl,” He said softly against your skin, patting your butt.

And you did just so. Wrapping your legs around his waist, with one of his hands on your ass and another moving your panties to the side.

“Hold that there, baby. Let me make you feel so good.” Holding his neck with one hand, you moved another hand to hold your panties to the side, to make it easy for him.

“Good girl.”And with one thrust, he was inside you, hitting all the spot. You moaned and gripped the back of his neck tightly.

“Like that doll? Can anyone else do this to you uhn? C’mon doll give me everything you got.” With every word that came out of his mouth, he would thrust hard and deep into you. You felt lightheaded. Your legs tightening around his waist but his thrust wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, Buck. Don’t stop.” You gasped. Bucky kept kissing your neck. Overloading your senses. You were close, you knew it. Bucky knew it. You could feel him grin against your skin.

“Who makes you feel this good, doll?” He asked. You gasped at his sudden change in pace. He started to thrust more desperately, less controlled. He was close too.

“You. Fuck, only you.Shit, Bucky. I’m going to cum.” Bucky smirked at you.

“Then cum, doll.” Bucky silenced your cries with his lips. Still thrusting into you, letting you ride your high and getting to his. And that wouldn’t be long.

With one final thrust, Bucky came. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and let you down.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said, putting on your pants.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You slapped his chest lightly, which made him laugh.

“I hope you realize that I would never go with discount Captain America over there.” You joked which made Bucky laugh even harder. You both were dressed and tried to look as decent as you could to leave the closet and the base.

“Let’s hope that fucking in an army base won’t be the reason you lose your pardon.” You said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, to give him reassurance. He gave you a smirk.

“Maybe if we let them watch, they won’t take it away,” Bucky replied to you, giving you a wink.

“Yeah and get John Walker to join would also help your case.” Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked at you.

“Oh, you are gonna get it when we get home.” Now it was your turn to wink at your boyfriend.

“I’m hoping I do.” Bucky shook his head but pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the exit of the base. Confident that John Walker couldn’t take you away from him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #winter soldier x reader

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moemammon · 4 years ago

Note

could i please request the obey me ! boyfies with an s/o who is like & chubby ? they get insecure about it (like being tall + chubby) and really are body-insecure to the point it’s like super frustrating too bc they want to express themselves through their outfits but absolutely hate clothes shopping and will break down bc of the amount of people, the clothing sizes, and being upset after trying things on... thank you so much!!

The Demon Bros react to a Body-Insecure GN!MC

(Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. This is something we hear all the time to the point that it almost feels dry and cliche. But! Just know that there's NOTHING wrong with the way you look, despite all the media we see centered around the world's idea of beauty. Beauty is subjective, and not eternal. Just be you. The best 'you' you can be!)

Lucifer

Do you REALLY think an age old demon would see anything wrong with what you look like? He's constantly surrounded by beauty, anyway, in the form of demons and angels alike

Besides, Luci isn't shallow enough to base his affections for you purely on how you look, so you don't even have to question that.

But he does recognize that you don't see yourself in the same like as he does, and he's so, so patient with you. After all, he can't have the love of his life doubting their self worth. The Avatar of Pride won't be having that.

Lucifer takes the time to tell you, everyday, what you mean to him. In the quiet moments when you two are alone, he'll guide your gaze to meet his own, and starts going down the list of the things that make you beautiful.

"To think you'd be self conscious about something like this.... Do you think I'd settle for anything less than perfection? Let me remind you again why I love every inch of you, MC."

Mammon

Taking up modeling gigs means Mammon's seen just about every body type under the sun, so do you seriously think he's that worried about the way you look?

He's a little slow to read the room, so it takes him a while to realize that you're self conscious. But when he tries taking you clothes shopping one day, and sees you're on the verge of tears after trying on two outfits, he gets the clue.

NOW he's being extra as hell in showing you how much he likes you. You start waking up to texts telling you how beautiful you are (with the obligatory threat that you'd better not show his brothers), he keeps putting his arm around you in public, and when he can muster up the courage, he'll even tell you in person how good you look in the outfit you're wearing.

He even starts sending you links to websites he visits to buy clothes. There's some good ones that have a wide range of customization options, and a pretty diverse size chart! It's not so bad if it's online, right?

"Anyone who's worthy of being around THE Great Mammon is worth a million grimm, understand? I don't really get all the fuss about yer body, but... I think ya look fine the way ya are. So smile a little more, alright?"

Levi

Levi can relate when it comes to body insecurities. He's a layabout, and the only exercise he gets is when he's forced to get it. He doesn't think he's much of a looker compared to his brothers, either.

So when you tell him how you feel about the way you look, he gathers up every ounce of otaku™️ strength to tell you that there's nothing wrong with your height, or weight.

He DEFINITELY values personality over looks, and even then it's not like he finds you unattractive. Seriously, he doesn't get your worries at all. Are you sure you can see properly..? They say staring at screens too long can mess up your eyesight, so maybe he should stop forcing you to watch so much tv with him?

And guess what? Levi can sew. Go ahead and bring him the clothes you wanna wear, and he'll get em fixed up for you! Or if you want something custom made, he's got you! Leave it to the master weeb and his endless cosplay knowledge! ✨

"L-Like in anime! It's boring to see the same body types all the time and it's nice when they change it up, s-so....Uh.... Anyway, I like everything about you, okay?! Your body is fine the way it is!"

Satan

According to his nerd calculations, you have no reason to be insecure.

Jokes aside, Satan listens to your concerns and handles them gently. No two people look alike and the world is full of different body types, so who's to decide what is and isn't beautiful?

As he sees it, you're healthy and happy, and isn't that all that matters? He can't take away your anxieties about shopping, but he CAN help you find things you would like to try out. He's pretty sure he has a book that teaches a spell for altering clothes in an instant....

Satan tends to think on the logical side of things, so you can trust that he isn't just saying nice things to spare your feelings. He means every word when he tells you how perfect you are in his eyes.

"Of the billions of people on earth, do you really think anyone can say what 'beauty' is? MC, you're perfect the way you are. Should I write a book about all the wonderful things I love about you?"

Asmo

If there's anyone who can appreciate all body types, it's Asmo. What can you expect from the Avatar of Lust, who's seen all there is to see? If anything, there's more for him to love~!

And his affection for your body isn't even entirely sexual. It's all about aesthetics! He loves every dip and curve of yours, from head to toe!

He knows you find it difficult to find clothes that suit you, so he's started having your clothes tailored. You're a little confused when he randomly starts taking your measurements one day-

Later, he returns to you with all those outfits you kept staring at a little too long, all tailored to your body type. Asmo has CONNECTIONS, baby. He's gonna make sure you find everything you could possibly want. He knows how crucial it is to express yourself through what you wear!

"Didn't I tell you you'd look great in that? I'm never wrong when it comes to fashion! And MC darling, you look as stunning as always! Ooh, I just love the way this accentuates your body~!"

Beel

Beel only has food on the brain, so he's the least likely to care for appearances. He loves you for your heart, because that's what matters the most to him. And when you're happy, he's happy!

He loves the look on your face when you smile at yourself in the mirror, and he wants to see that more often. So when you express your insecurities about your body, Beel has a plan of action in mind.

He hoists you up and settles you onto his bed, first grabbing your thighs, your hips, your torso, your arms, and ends all the touching by cupping your cheeks. His hands are warm with affection, and you could already feel yourself melting into his touch.

He looks you in the eye with that deadpan expression of his, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and a potato chip to your lips.

"No matter how you look or what you wear, you're still the same MC that I love. Every part of you is just fine, so why do you worry so much about it? I'll remind you over and over if I have to."

Belphie

Um??? That means he has more to hold?? when you guys cuddle?? You're warm, you smell nice, and he loves you. Literally where is the downside to any of that???

Belphie takes your worries with a grain of salt, but he knows how insecure you are so he doesn't brush them off. He DOES however tell you that you're worrying yourself to death.

Also, do you really think a man that sleeps all the time is going to have washboard abs? Belphie definitely has a little chub here and there under those baggy ass clothes of his.

Speaking of clothes, he thinks you should just wear whatever makes you comfortable. You're wearing those clothes for yourself, aren't you? So just wear what you like.

"There you go again, talking badly about yourself. Geez.... I guess I'll just have to hold you in my arms until you realize how silly you're being. Come here."

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huge-enthusiast · 3 years ago

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MIRACULOUS FIC RECOMENDATIONS!! (Part 2)

You can find part 1 here.

The first one was really popular! So I decided to make a second part.

The rules are the same:

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don’t put the author’s tumblr is because they didn’t put it in the fic or/and I couldn’t find it.

The only thing that changes is that I would be putting the pairing in the description of the fic.

Without further ado...

Written in the Stars by Boogum (@botherkupo here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Marichat and Adrienette.

He was the god of destruction. She was a princess whose kingdom had been prophesied to fall. To save her people, she became his wife. To save him, she would have to do the impossible. The castle has secrets, the gods are watching, and time is running out.

Chapters: 37/37

TW for mild violence.

Arrange marriage, God AU. While I'm making this list, I still haven't finished the fic, but I had to recommend it because is THAT good. The way I gasped out loud while reading some of the plot twists. The worldbuilding is so good, and even if you aren't into AUs that deviate a lot from cannon like me, I 100% reccomend it.

Need a Lift? again by Boogum.

Pairing: DJWifi

Getting stranded on a foreign planet sucked. Luckily for Nino, his rival was willing to give him a lift home. Unluckily for Nino, she was beautiful and funny and he might just be in love with her.

Chapters: 1/1

Space Bounty Hunter AU! Really sweet and funny. If you are into flustered!Nino then this fic is for you.

hey, you by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

“Have you ever had a dream about someone that changes the way you think of them?”

or Adrien has a dream about Marinette.

Chapters: 1/1

Okay so, peachcitt is one of my favorite ml writers. Everything that they write is sooo good y'all, and i'm already a sucker for adrienette, so I cannot recommend this fic (or any of theirs) enough.

double dare again by peachcitt (I told ya!)

Pairing: Ladrien (with lots of sided ladynoir)

“Don’t ever do that again,” Marinette says, maybe a little too emphatically, and Adrien looks at her, his expression quiet. His cheeks, Marinette notices, are a little red.

“But I wanted to save you,” he says.

or Ladybug and Adrien can't seem to stop running into each other. (whether that is on accident or on purpose is nobody's business but their own, of course).

Chapters: 30/30

This was a ladrien june fic! Every chapter corresponds to the day's prompts but it also continues a story. If that doesn't make you want to read it then I don't know what it will. I fear fanfic writers, they're insane.

(not) so much by therentyoupay (@therentyoupayfanfiction here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Marichat and adrienette

(The claws are sharp, but the host of Destruction—for all of his loudmouth chaos and lack of reserve—is paradoxically careful.)

Chapters: 1/1

In which Chat Noir pays a visit not long after Marinette has made a pretty difficult decision, and they accidentally make a routine.

Prompt: Marinette gives Chat a hickey. Adrien has a suspiciously similar looking hickey the next day at school...

Gotta be honest with y'all, I did not expect this fic to be as good as it is. The adrienette has everything a stablished!Marichat should have. Marinette conflicted with her feelings? Check. Adrien being a hot mess bc That's My Girlfriend But She Doesn't Know That? Check. Them being absolute idiots? Check. It's good!

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News (Your Lips Is The Only Cure I Could Use) by BreG21.

Pairing: Adrienette

Rainwater sloshed up from the pools they had made on the sidewalk and coated his jean pants with every step he took. He couldn't bring himself to care.

He sniffed away some of the water that dribbled down his matted head. "Yeah?"

He paused as if to consider his words while Adrien stared down at him, so lost. "You weren't wrong when you thought you knew. A part of you wanted it to be her, but it was too perfect, you let the illusion fool you because how would you get that lucky. But trust me, Adrien. You weren't wrong."

He wasn't wrong? What was he not wrong about?

You weren't wrong. You want it to be her.

And it finally clicked as a small gasp wisped past his lips. He wasn't wrong.

In which, Plagg falls ill, and with Fu gone and Ladybug being the guardian now, has to go find her civilian self-even with the knowledge that she might not like that-is shocked to realize that even with having the kwami that was supposed to embodied the very being of bad luck, Adrien could conclude the very opposite of what he had thought for so long.

He was so very lucky.

Chapters: 1/1

I screamed so hard while reading this fic. It's just one of those who gets the characters right. Do you like a good reveal? Go read this now.

Operation Mega Sleepover by InTheWild (@smellerbeee here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

When Alya and Nino drop out of their long awaited mega-sleepover at the last minute, it leaves Marinette and Adrien alone together for the night. An Adrinette one-shot with lots of fluff and sleepover shenanigans.

Chapters: 1/1

I just,,, I love adrienette fluff so much,,, I love them,,,

You, Me & A Little Bit Of The Future by joonapeach.

Pairing: this is a fortunate case of all lovesquare shenanigans™

Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien.

She just doesn't expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

(Alternatively... two idiots obliviously in love cooing over their daughter while acting like they have no idea whose kid this is.)

Chapters: 1/1

I think the description says anything that it needs to be said. It's really sweet and funny and I love how they just change their minds so quickly and get emo for literally nothing. Peak shakesperean dumbasery.

The entire Marry That Girl series by Miraculous_Max (Maximilian_Alexander).

Pairing: Adrienette

Let’s say Marinette has a special sketchbook. This sketchbook is filled with drawings of their future house, of Adrien as an adult in multiple occupational settings, of Marinette and Adrien’s wedding, and most importantly, their future children.

Let's say Adrien found this sketchbook.

Works: 8 (All are 1/1 chapters)

Just realized how this list exposes me as number 1 adrienette sucker... oh well. I love how Adrien doesn't feel weirded out by the intensity of Marinette's crush. He likes it! He's as weird and romantic as her! That's one of the reasons I love the lovesquare so much and it makes me happy to see that everyone is in the same boat with me.

Strenght by 11JJ11.

Pairing: Adrienette

Marinette knew she was much stronger than she looked thanks to being a hero. So when her class had an arm wrestling contest she knew that she could beat all of them with ease, but she wasn't expecting anyone else to come close.

Chapters: 1/1

Good ol' accidental reveal feat. the entire class shenanigans. I, once again, screamed for an adrienette fic. Who could've thought.

Super Fan by Taliax.

Pairing: Ladrien

It was a good thing Alya was holding the phone and not her, because it would have slipped from her fingers and shattered. How had she not noticed? She had been there, and somehow she’d missed her crush looking at her like she was an angel sent from heaven.

Forget the perfume ad. This picture was going to be her new desktop.

(In which Marinette realizes that she and Adrien might both be obsessive fans.)

Chapters: 1/1

Canon divergent from after Gorizilla. They're so dumb. That's my opinion on this fic.

How to Kiss Your Crush in Five Minutes or Less also by Taliax.

Pairing: Ladrien

He just needed to know if Ladybug needed Chat Noir. He didn't expect to learn just how much she wanted Adrien.

This would be the best five minutes of his life, if he didn't expect her to forget it.

Chapters: 1/1

CW for making out.

Set during Desperada. I promise there's a happy ending. Also Luka is there for some reason, felt really bad for him.

Laying Down the Rules: The Gabriel Agreste Clauses by LadyKae

Gen

Adrien leaves the manor on a dark and stormy night and seeks sanctuary at the only place he feels safe: The Home of the Dupain-Cheng Family. When Sabine learns why her dear boy is fleeing to her home in the middle of the night, she makes a personal visit to one Gabriel Agreste.

There's more rules in play, but not for Adrien and Marinette.

Chapters: 1/1

This is just Sabine going to beat the fuck out of Gabriel and it's really satifying ngl

4am. by hannieks

Pairing: post-reveal lovesquare

In which Adrien has the cat tendency to wake up their owners at stupid o'clock, and Marinette just wants to sleep. Cuteness ensues.

Chapters: 1/1

Really short but really sweet. If you like Adrien acting like a cat then you would like this.

Can I Date You(r Character)? by midnightstarlightwrites (@midnightstarlightwrites here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

Adrien turned to her, something unreadable in his gaze. “Are you ok with this?” he asked.

And what a loaded question that was. Was she ok with it? Was she ok with the one guy she couldn’t seem to get over in real life kissing her in a game of Dungeons and Dragons? When she put it like that, it seemed a bit silly to get so worked up.

It was just a game...right?

She was ok with it, right?

“Sure,” she lied. “I’m ok with it.”

When Adrien's character falls in love with Marinette's, they decided to date in-game. What could go wrong?

Chapters: 7/?

THIS ONE IS SO CUTE. You want to scream??? Read this.

two idiots and a hamster by Boogum (again) and carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Pairing: Adrienette

How do you hide your superhero identity from your roommate? (spoiler alert: badly)

Chapters: 5/?

Once @anna-scribbles described this fic as "is literally the closest i’ve ever seen a fic come to matching the energy of canon", and I couldn't have described it better.

And that's all for now! Next time I will probably make an only DJWifi list since I've been treating them so dirty lol.

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mothwithteeth · 3 years ago

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i’m well aware how i take curses and make them prayers

i was trying to find this in my posts but I can’t so I’m going to just repost it bc it’s mine and i can. maybe i’ll add this one to the master list (don’t hold me to it plz)

pairing: kirishima x reader

warnings: hurt/comfort smut, allusions to negative sexual experiences, heavy heavy consent, light corruption kink?

It’s just one finger. Just one. But you’re already squirming. You’re anxious, and you just want to get through this part. Just get to the important part, but it hurts. You know it’s not supposed to hurt, but it does anyway. It always has. You can take it.

“M-more” you choke out, trying not to visibly grit your teeth.

“Are you sure?” Eijirou asks, slowing slightly.

“Please,” don’t let him notice how tense you are. Act sexy. Stop being a baby.

Eijirou listens, albeit hesitantly, and adds another finger, stretching you even further. You hope the pained whimper you can’t suppress sounds close enough to a moan. You’re too tense, and it’s getting worse. You can feel the way your body is trying to force him out, no matter what your brain says. It’s buried under layers of instinct and muscle memory; mental scar tissue; too far down for rationality to affect it.

“Does that feel good?” It should sound sexy, but he’s a little too worried to pull it off. You can hear it in his voice. You’re not doing a good enough job. The wave of anxiety clamps your muscles down even tighter; entirely outside your control.

“Y-yeah!” your voice jumps an octave when your muscles spasm harder; burning with exertion and overextension. “Please, I can,” a soft hah of pain escapes you, “I can take it,” you insist. You can. You’ll get over it. Just get to the part he wants before he changes his mind. Realizes his mistake.

“I don’t want you to take it. I want you to enjoy it.”

Out of all the things threatening to crush you at that exact moment, that simple statement knocks the wind out of you. On some level, you know that sex is supposed to be mutually pleasurable, but that got lost somewhere along the way. Another thing you believe everyone but you deserves. Somehow it didn’t occur to you that you should also enjoy having sex. That’s never mattered. You just know that you have to do this. This is how relationships work. No one is going to want you if you don’t put out.

“Hey,” his fingers withdraw. No no no no no you ruined it you ruined it you ruined everything- His other hand on your cheek, guiding your eyes to his, grounds you; interrupts that loop. “Talk to me.”

You have a chance, here, to be vulnerable with another person. You’ve known Eijirou for a while, but are you willing to take that risk? You take a deep breath. If he’s going to leave if you tell the truth, you shouldn’t be sleeping with him, you remind yourself. “I have… a history, I guess you could call it. It makes things… weird. It takes me too long to adjust and I just-” you have to pause to catch your breath. Don’t hyperventilate. You’ve already made this bad enough. “I don’t want you to get bored or anything because it takes too long, you know? So I just… Ride out the bad part.”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand at all, and it tugs uncomfortably in his stomach. He’s not about to just say that, though. He’s got some tact. “Bored? You think I could get bored of you?”

“I mean you’re not getting anything out of it so…”

“I get to make you feel good. That’s what I want.” His gaze doesn’t waver. There’s an intensity in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter in a way that’s more pleasure than nausea. Oh. You kinda like that. “Let me make you feel good, okay?” He guides you to lean back against the headboard.

Deep breath. “Okay.”

“Please tell me if anything doesn’t feel good. I wanna know.” This time you can only nod. Yeah. You can do that. “Good girl.” He smiles at you, and you’re pretty sure your heart stops. Yeah. You’ll do anything he says to get him to say that again.

Eijirou’s hand lands on your thigh, searing hot against your skin. “You okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer. You are. A little nervous, but okay.

He leans in to kiss you, soft and sweet, as his hand slips between your thighs. He goes more slowly this time, gently rubbing your clit for a moment before sliding his middle finger into you. You can’t help but gasp against his lips, the stretch still bordering overwhelming. Right on the line of uncomfortable, but not quite crossing it. “Still okay?” he doesn’t pull away; humid breath puffing against your cheek.

“Y-yeah,”

“Tell me what you’re feeling, angel.” The pet name makes you melt to the point where you barely even recognize that he’s telling you to actually do something.

“I- I don’t know,” there’s too much roaring in your head to focus. You’re certain he’s going to give up. How are you supposed to do this? None of it makes sense, and you can’t even begin to sort it out. If you can’t handle yourself, how is he supposed to?

“Does anything hurt?” Eijirou’s voice pulls you back to reality.

“No,” you wiggle your hips to make sure, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s just unfamiliar, and you don’t know how you feel about it yet.

“Good,” he leans in to kiss you again. And again. And again.

You don’t even realize the time passing as you fall deeper into your arousal, clinging to Eijirou’s shoulders like a lifeline. Bit by bit, your body relaxes, adjusting to the unfamiliar stretch.

“I can- I- more, please,” it’s embarrassing to be this breathless from something so simple, especially when Eijirou is so calm. He listens, and gently withdraws his finger, only to replace it with two before you can miss that feeling. The stretch is more intense, but not inherently painful, and as you get used to it, you can relax a little more. This is okay. You are okay.

At some point, without your notice, you had become convinced that another person would never be able to satisfy you the way you can satisfy yourself, and that you were never going to experience pleasure from another person. And then he crooks his fingers ever so slightly and your hips jackrabbit off the bed, a surprised moan escaping before you can stifle it. “Do you like that?” Eijirou asks with a pleased grin.

“I-I think s-oH!” he does it again in the middle of your answer. He can’t help himself, you’re so cute. Is it still a corruption kink if he wants to show you how good he can make you feel? How he can satisfy needs you’ve never acknowledged? Perhaps, but that doesn’t matter. Not when he has such a pretty thing in his bed that has been neglected for far too long.

You can barely keep up between breath-stealing kisses and gentle thrusts of Eijirou’s fingers. “Think you can do another?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, please,” you pant. How could he deny you when you ask so sweetly?

Eijirou obliges, three fingers finding their way into your almost-too-snug cunt. He kisses your forehead as you mewl and squirm, trying to somehow adjust. “Good?”

“G-good,” you nod shallowly, eyes squeezed shut against the intensity.

“Hey, look at me,” he insists. It still takes you a moment to open up teary eyes. You can’t help it; everything is just so much. “Breathe for me.” Another little nod, and a deep, lung-filling breath. “Good girl,” with another blinding grin from him. Eijirou pretends he doesn’t feel the effect he’s having, but oh is he living for the way you clench around his fingers; a deep throb of pleasure versus a spasm of pain; he’s already noticed the difference.

You completely lose track of yourself while he makes you see stars, kissing you breathless and taking you apart with his fingers, but there’s something… missing. You want to be closer. It almost startles you to realize that you actually want him to fuck you. What a wild concept. You tap on Eijirou’s shoulder. He pulls back to look at you intently. The thought that, no matter what you say, he is going to listen and take care of you strikes you full force, but you can’t let it stop you. “I want more, please,” you can barely look him in the eye as you ask. You’re trying to kill him. You must be.

“Hm?” he asks. He can’t help it. He wants to hear you say it.

“I want you. Please, Eiji,” you ask again.

“Want me to what, angel?” You give him a pleading look. “C’mon. You can tell me. I’ve got you,” he goads. That has every intended effect as he feels you melt in his arms.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say shyly, not quite able to keep eye contact. He won’t hold it against you.

“Anything you want, baby.” and you know he means it.

You’re fine until he’s positioned against you, not quite pushing inside. “Wait!” you don’t mean to yelp and pull away, but he let’s you put those inches between you. Anything you need. “You’ll go slow, right?” If he wasn’t so desperate to make you feel good, the way his heart breaks just thinking about what would make you react like this might be enough to put him off. Luckily, it gives him a burst of desire to make this the perfect experience.

With barely any effort, he rolls the two of you over, resting you comfortable against his hips for the time being. “We’ll go at your pace, okay?” The change in position takes a weight you didn’t know you were bearing off of you. The control lets you breathe easier. (you can get away if you need to) As hard as it is for Eijirou to let you do the work, he just wants to make you feel safe.

It only takes a few moments of reassurance and gentle touching to build the mood back up and to have his cock pressed against you once again. The size is intimidating. You’re not sure how it’s supposed to fit, but you want to try.

That first inch almost has you turning back; it’s just so intense you can’t even tell whether it hurts or not. You quickly decide it does not hurt. In fact, it feels better than you could’ve ever imagined. Eijirou’s gentle grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly. He would swear up and down he’s never felt anything better; that you’re absolutely perfect for him.

That first inch does take a little while to get used to, as does the next one. Eijirou doesn’t rush you as you pant and gasp with every movement of your hips. “Tell me what you’re feeling, angel.” Your eyes are nearly glassy as you process what he wants from you. Every fiber of you is focused on the cock inside of you. The stretch, the struggle of relaxation, the desire to just impale yourself and get it over with fighting with the part of you that knows you can and should take your time.

“‘S’good,” is all you can think of to describe it. All the words you know, any one in any language, none of them filter through the distraction of physical touch. You expect him to ask you to keep going, but he doesn’t. Not even after a few minutes with very little progress down his shaft. It’s almost like there’s too much for you to focus on. How are you supposed to make out and ride a dick?

That’s probably how you end up settling your hips against Eijirou’s; to your own surprise after a seemingly endless descent. The contact is nearly jarring, but you’re grateful for it. That’s the whole thing. You did it (and it doesn’t hurt). You can cry about your breakthrough later. For now, you’re desperate for more. For him.

You stay like that for what feels like forever, grinding gently against the base of his cock as you try to adjust to the feeling. Eijirou is once again convinced that you’re trying to kill him. Between the feeling of being inside you and watching the way you’re learning what feels good is driving him crazy. He’s almost glad you haven’t started moving yet; he’s not sure he could take it.

Neither of you are prepared for how good it feels when you do move, though. Dual moaning fills the room, and you’d be self-conscious if you could remember how. Everything about this is new and exciting and good and you can’t help but be swept up in it; all but crying as you ride him.

Unfortunately for you, this is exhausting work, and you are deeply unfamiliar with using this particular set of muscles. You want to keep going, but you can’t fight the burn in your muscles forever. “Could you- I-” How are you supposed to ask this?

“Getting tired?” It’s mean to tease, but you look so sweet when you turn red and nod. He rolls the two of you over smoothly. “Anything you want, baby,” he reiterates, rolling his hips into yours for emphasis. The movement draws a moan out of you before you can stop it. You didn’t think it could get better, but this angle is new and exciting; taking you closer and closer to your release with every brush against your g-spot.

When you do finally, finally reach that peak, it’s more than Eijirou can take. Your back arches, mouth dropped open in a high moan of his name as your fingernails dig into his biceps. Your thighs shake around his hips as if they’re trying to close, but he doesn’t let that happen. He pushes flush against you, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. The increase in friction nearly makes you scream. As it is he has to stop against the clenching of your insides. While you’re still trying to catch your breath, Eijirou pulls out, tugging his cock once, twice, and finishing on your heaving stomach. It’s warm and sticky, but you don’t get a chance to even express discomfort before he’s wiping it off with a tissue. Bare basics taken care of, he can finally flop down next to you and wrap you up in his arms.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after a moment, petting your hair gently.

“Good. I kind of want a shower.”

“You got it.” and before you can even whine to stay five more minutes, he’s already got you scooped up to clean you up. You might be able to get used to this.

#bnha smut #kirishima x reader smut #this is so goddamn self indulgent i can't #but i want to have it so i'm posting it again #maybe i'll be able to find the original someday

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagines

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slightlymore · 4 years ago

Text

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived @strawberrymilkandcigarettes @theworld-accordingtocasey @kibumingi

_____

"Johnny, get lost."

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early.

He smirked and didn't move.

You made a step on the right.

He did the same.

"John," you made a step on the left.

His body kept blocking your way.

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you."

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once.

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy.

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours.

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around.

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again.

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time.

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited.

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck.

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut."

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered.

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking.

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?"

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet.

"Beg?"

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o.

"Me? Beg? I don't beg."

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed.

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either.

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses.

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties.

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled.

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence.

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants.

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes.

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee.

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado.

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes.

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh.

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel.

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel.

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect.

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage.

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore.

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face.

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue.

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless. "You like dangerous games?"

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win.

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?"

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really."

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl."

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours.

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all.

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary.

Then why were you letting him touch you like that?

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms.

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall.

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further.

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again."

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor.

_____

Disastrous.

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room.

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn.

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well.

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little.

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name.

From You: you first

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half.

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either.

_____

You needed at least one win.

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch.

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick.

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down.

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you.

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently.

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before.

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips.

“That was a win,” you replied.

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.”

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day?

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself.

But Johnny was quicker.

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss.

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it.

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered.

“I win.”

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?”

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes.

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too.

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side.

“War.”

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?”

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets.

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?”

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?”

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?”

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen.

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings.

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up.

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip.

"But you like it this way. Don't you?"

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation.

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl.

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it.

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you.

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.”

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room.

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face.

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly.

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms.

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced.

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed.

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin.

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt.

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers.

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you.

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt.

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him.

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy.

But then he smiled too and it threw you off.

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip.

“You can’t touch yourself either.”

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin.

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you.

You bit your lower lip and shook your head.

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.”

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips.

“What about my tongue?”

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself.

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.”

“I definitely heard you say please just now.”

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot.

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side.

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained.

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased.

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock.

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh.

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers.

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin.

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!"

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard.

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable.

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him.

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming.

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them."

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt.

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock.

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better."

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away.

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen.

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation.

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan.

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen.

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust.

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else.

You were sick with anger.

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny.

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to.

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again.

God, he made you so mad.

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall.

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist.

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face.

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel.

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts.

What was that?

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead.

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep.

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it.

“Did you sleep well?” “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him.

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant.

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.”

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him.

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained.

You gulped and nodded. “Good.”

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.”

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time.

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door.

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.”

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.”

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.”

You just resumed walking and exited the room.

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away.

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable.

But it was the last one that you chose.

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced.

“Hey! Knocking maybe?”

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable.

“Talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.”

He walked over and sat on your bed.

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.”

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears.

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice.

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over.

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air.

“What are you doing?”

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room.

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.”

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates.

“What happened while I was away?”

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled.

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?”

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands.

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.”

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.”

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you.

“Well, I do.”

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.”

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera.

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly.

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave.

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk.

“What?” you imitated his position.

“Say something?”

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned.

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-”

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply.

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his.

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again.

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts.

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked. But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap.

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch.

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it.

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand.

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out.

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before.

“You love a challenge, huh?”

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk.

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop.

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him.

“You don’t like it?”

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast.

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more.

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face.

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers.

“This wasn’t part of the game.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged.

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead.

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down.

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that.

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit.

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go.

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts.

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more.

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin.

“Hm? Say that again?”

“Please.”

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine.

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.”

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop.

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again.

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty.

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore.

“I said beg.”

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied.

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped.

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure.

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance.

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin.

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.”

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you.

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you.

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.”

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.”

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.”

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest.

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly.

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?”

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?”

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea.

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.”

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug.

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child.

“I love you.”

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep.

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was.

“I really love you.”

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled.

“I know. And I love you too.”

#johnny #johnny suh #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct johnny smut #johnny scenarios #nct scenarios #taeyong #taeyong smut

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matsbarzal · 3 years ago

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Could I request fluff #6 with Jack Hughes?

fluff #6. "you've been my best friend for 10 years, why not change it to husband and wife?"

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 1.4k

It was always easy to love him. It was easy to love the friendship he initiated all those years ago, and it was even easier to admit your love bore a little deeper when he admitted his feelings were more than friendly about you. A decade long friendship had blossomed into something more, and it was something neither you, nor Jack had any arguments against.

Jack always brought up your ‘friendiversary’, and you couldn’t help but get a laugh out of the pure joy he always bestowed on you every time he mentioned it. The new kid in school accidentally exploding his yogurt tube all over his desk partner was probably one of the funnier ways to begin a lifelong friendship that would eventually blossom into more.

“So, how are we celebrating a whole decade together this year? Should we go get frozen yogurt? Maybe we can make a re-enactment of what happened in middle school? We could make it a whole thing, make a tiktok about it and everything,” you could feel your eyes rolling involuntarily at his words, shooting Jack a glare from across the room.

“We’re not doing anything that involves yogurt.”

“Not even something sexy?” Wigging his eyebrows at you, your hand immediately reached for the pillow beside you to whip at your boyfriend.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Lil’ Jizzy,” groaning at your words, Jack plopped himself on the couch beside you, instantly pulling you into his side.

Shrugging his shoulders at you, you could see him googling friendiversary ideas out of the corner of your eye. “Babe, we don’t even have to do anything. We could cuddle up and order food and just watch a movie or something, it doesn’t have to be anything special.”

“It’s our ten-year friendiversary, baby. We can’t just do nothing. I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. You’ll love it.”

It would be hard to admit that a trip to Florida in the middle of the season was what you were expecting from Jack. He had practically thrust the tickets into your hand, informing you that you had less than three hours to pack, all while giving you a list of the specific outfits he wanted you to bring.

You knew almost immediately that Jack had definitely not planned the celebration alone, just by the Airbnb that you pulled up in front of. First, you didn’t even realize he knew what an Airbnb was. Second of all, there was no way Jack Hughes had managed to find a place this gorgeous on his own.

Shooting a message to P.K. was your first priority, knowing full well he was the likely culprit behind the gorgeous booking in front of you.

“Okay, so I have a full itinerary. Tonight, we’re just going to chill, relax, get situated, maybe break the house in, you know… the usual stuff,” ending his sentence off with a wink, Jack grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him.

“Tomorrow we’re going to head out to the marina that I don’t know the exact name of but will figure out and we’re gonna spend most of the day on the water, and then dinner… obviously. Sunday, you have to plan. I’ll pay… but you have to plan.”

Giggling into his ear as you pressed your body closer to his to press a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck, Jack tilted his head to the side with a small grin plastered across his lips.

“Sounds like the perfect weekend, baby. I think we should probably get started on your plans for today.” The grin never left his lips as he whipped around to press them to yours, his body moulding against yours easily.

The next day came quicker than you were expecting, Jack picking out your outfit as you picked his. That was something you both just found easier; there was no one else you would ever let pick your outfit, Jack just… knew you. He knew your style, knew what you did and didn’t like, knew what would fly and what wouldn’t. Small things like that with him were easy, everything was easy when it came to him.

“Well, don’t you look sexy. Damn, I’m so good at picking your fits. Should I quit hockey, maybe get into fashion? You could be my main model, baby.” Laughing as he wrapped you up in his arms with a smile, his happiness infectious.

Shaking your head against his chest, you peaked up at him from between his arms. “I don’t think you should quit your day job, maybe get some pointers before you start making drastic decisions like that. Can’t use you as my future trophy husband if you’re going to up and quit the job that makes you that.”

Pinching your side gently, Jack just smiled as he pulled away and interlocked his fingers with his.

It didn’t take you long to get to the marina in the car he had rented, everyone greeting the both of you politely as they directed you towards the boat Jack had rented for the day. You almost stopped in your tracks when you observed the setup on the boat; a picnic basket set up, non-alcoholic champagne on ice, fairy lights adorning the inside edges of the boat.

“Damn, I didn’t read the fine print when I booked. Just said I wanted the closest setup to an anniversary they could get, guess they went all out,” popping his hip into yours gently with a beam.

“Jack, do you even have your boating license?”

Eyeing the steering wheel with a curious look, you turned towards your boyfriend just in time to see him roll his eyes and glare at you playfully. “No, this place just let a random guy with no boating license rent a boat. Obviously, I have my boating license.”

Rolling your eyes back, you tapped his side as you made your way to the small seat next to the drivers. It only took a few moments to get out from the dock, far enough away that you and Jack could have some privacy without being too far and worrying how you were going to get back.

“Do you remember the first day we met? Other than when I accidentally exploded my yogurt tube all over you? You told me that boys were icky, and all they did was ruin everything,” nodding your head with a loud laugh, you let your mind wander to your first few years with Jack.

“Crazy how things have changed, huh? I remember going home that night and telling my mom I needed to get those stupid yogurt tubes so I could hit them against the desk and do what you did to me, she said no real quick.”

Smiling softly towards you, you could see the love in his eyes the way he looked at you, the softness that crossed his features every time you were on his mind or in his sight. It had been the same look he had given you since you both were fifteen, Jack never having eyes for anyone except you.

Standing up and holding his hand out, you took it and allowed him to pull you from your seat and towards the picnic basket and bottle of champagne.

“It always makes me laugh; I told my mom back when I first moved from Sauga to Michigan that I wasn’t sure how I was going to live without you. She said you’d always be there, even if you weren’t physically there. Pretty sure that was when I realized you were more than just a friend to me, then I moved and wasn’t sure what’d happen. Never really thought we’d get here, honestly.”

Sighing as he sat down, Jack gestured for you to sit in his lap, both of your legs extended out in front of you as he ruffled through the picnic basket beside him.

“I say it a lot, but I’m so glad you sprayed that yogurt all over me. It sucked, but I don’t think we’d be where we are without it,” nodding his head gently as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

“You know, you’ve been my best friend for ten years, why not just change it to husband and wife?”

Swivelling around to look at him, you almost cried when you saw the little black box in his hand, his eyes glistening at he looked at you. Moving so he was directly on one knee and not sitting, your hands instantly pressed to your mouth.

“I’ve had this thing sitting around since my first season. So, I guess what I’m trying to say here is… I’ve been so grateful for your friendship and your unconditional love these last ten years, so how about we make it forever? Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t contain your body flying towards him, the aggressive nod of your head the only answer he needed.

note: so sorry that this is so late, but i hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for requesting. and yes i did steal mitch marner's proposal idea for this thank u very much simply bc i have reason to believe jack would too

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yesimwriting · 3 years ago

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Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

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aenaxes-moved · 4 years ago

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momentum

[hunter x afab!reader] hunter thinks it's a good idea for you to learn hand-to-hand. and if it's a way for you to see him sweaty, sleeveless, and in close quarters, who are you to turn down the perfect opportunity?

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: i'm a simple creature—i see the sexual tension of hand-to-hand combat, and i am brought low. also the marauder has a cargo hold for literary purposes, now. anyways enjoy my first nsfw fic on this blog. reposting bc tumblr censored me :/

“Try again,” Hunter orders as he crouches down beside where you lie sprawled, chest heaving and arms limp on the training mat. “Just like I showed you: trap the wrist, lock the arm, twist and throw.”

“Unlike you,” you wheeze, struggling to lift your head off the floor, “I’m not exactly built to throw people around.” You forego your weak attempt to get up, and you swear you feel your teeth rattle as the back of your head hits the mat with a dull thud.

You turn your head, meeting the sergeant's piercing gaze with a weary half-grimace half-grin. There’s a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes—maybe incredulity—that he might be training a half-fledged jedi in the brutally graceful art of floorslamming an opponent over a shoulder while the others had taken Omega on a trip to meet the natives. It’s something you should know well, having spent your youth under the wild and unrelenting martial acrobatics of master Voss, but at the end of the day, you would choose swordplay over brute physicality without hesitation.

Especially if you’re facing off against an opponent who can and has hefted you high above his head and practically launched you across the training mat.

If Hunter’s amused at all by this knowledge, he only makes it known with a huff.

“Empire’s out for your head; you need to learn to fight in more ways than your fancy jedi training. That includes hand-to-hand just in case you lose your lightsaber. Again.”

“That was once, Hunter!” you whine, warmth spreading across your cheeks. But he’s right. Loathe as you are to admit it, no amount of force pushing would have gotten you out of that mess on Onderon, and it was a miracle (otherwise known as Echo) that you’d found your lightsaber at all.

It’s an embarrassing memory and, deeper down, a dangerous one that could have ended in more than stray blaster fire. Petulant as you would like to be, Hunter has a point. So you reach up, flapping your hand about until you feel Hunter’s hand wrap around yours, callused and firm, and yank you up to your feet. You stumble as you regain your footing, but as soon as you’ve collected your bearings, you’re shaking your hands out and bouncing on the tips of your toes.

“Fuck it. Let me try again.”

“Do you want me to go slower on the approach?” Hunter asks, this time, a sure note of playful teasing dancing over his tongue. The corners of his lips curl up, imperceptible to most, but you’ve flown long enough with the crew to pick up on his slight giveaways. You narrow your eyes, fixing him with an accusatory frown.

“‘Imps won’t slow down for you y/n,’” you parrot his words with a sour expression, begrudging theatrics complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

Hunter laughs, but he’s already drawing back into a low crouch, arms raised and muscles coiled, ready to strike. You take the brief moment of clarity between your warm up and readying stance to admire him, his hair tied with his bandana, piercing eyes set in a razor focus as his chest rises and falls, even, steady. The sharp clarity is made complete, authentic, with his garb. Having swapped his standard blacks for a sleeveless top, a sheer veil of sweat glimmers brushed over the toned muscle rippling under his skin. It’s an appealing point of motivation, a reward for the small price of being thrown around for the past hour.

“You’re learning,” Hunter smiles, small and crooked, but a smile that breaks past his stolid stoicism nonetheless. “Attagirl.”

Your heart flutters, and you lunge.

Two rapid steps, and you’re meeting Hunter in the middle as he rushes towards you. Right foot, anchor heel, pivot, and the sharp wind of his arm shooting forward nearly knocks the breath from your lungs as it just barely brushes past your cheek.

He’s fast. But you’re faster, you challenge, and you shoot your left arm up, closing your grip with your right hand and trapping his forearm in your hands just beneath the hem of his glove. And when you find secure purchase, confident enough that he can’t counter, you yank with a sharp, vindictive shout. For the first time today, your grip holds.

You feel him roll over your shoulder, guided by your hand, compelled by gravity, and you’ve won. After all the blocks and parries and attacks-turned-scrambling-defenses, you’ve got Hunter exactly where you want him. Hunter may have size, bulk, experience—well, everything other than the Force—that you don’t, but if he’s taught you anything during your time with the batch it’s that timing is king.

You whoop as you feel his back roll off yours, squeezing your eyes shut as you claim your victory into the empty cargo hold.

You forget, however, the unspoken and very important step of letting go.

As soon as the split-second of simple victory flashes through you, you yelp, pulled off your feet and centre of balance flung off to the far reaches of the room. You’re reduced to an ungraceful flail of limbs and panicked disorientation as you fall, bracing yourself for an imminent collision and a sure promise of a bruise the day after. But instead of the forgiving, plasticky foam of the floor, you land with a soft oof on something else, harder than the mat, damp, bony…?

When you open your eyes, you’re propped up on one elbow, your other shoulder dipped close against Hunter’s chest, and your nose just a breath away from his collar, and, Maker help you, you can see his collarbones, sharp and clean through his blacks, rising and falling rhythmically with his heavy, straining breaths. You lift your head just in time to meet Hunter’s eyes, lightly curtained by one single swath of perfectly mussed stray hair, pupils blown wide with pride, wonder, and—

Shit.

“Uh, yay me?” you offer weakly, hoping you can blame the tremble in your voice on bone-deep exhaustion, not the blooming heat roiling in your gut.

“Yeah,” Hunter says, eyes trained on yours, steady and still.

It doesn’t take force sensitivity to feel the tension buzzing high in what little space separates your faces, the boundaries of playful sportsmanship bowing under the weight of testing curiosity, circling, prodding. The breath that passes your lips quivers, of which you’re only aware when you see Hunter’s eyes flick briefly to your lips. He lingers a moment, and you swallow hard, almost audibly, when you catch a flash of his tongue darting over his lower lip.

It might be an adrenaline high—his dilated pupils, the wild thumping of your heart against your ribs. High velocity combat and being thrown flat onto your back would do that.

You hope it isn’t.

The silence is enough to steal the sound from your tongue, just low breathing as you hover above him. It demands to be broken, something to be the first push back into the rhythm of which you have become so accustomed, the comfortable banter and competition devoid of anything more than meaningless flirting. Because for his ruggedly handsome looks, his commandeering presence, an aura that had men and women sending him drinks from across the bar, you had never let yourself seriously entertain the idea of being able to have him.

It’s hard to entertain attraction, much less romance, when you and the batch are high priority on the Empire’s list to shoot on sight, but the possibility has kept you awake at night, fingers shoved between your thighs while he sleeps two doors down. The fantasy of having, breathing him in like air, makes you feel alive, makes you feel the rare and fleeting feeling of safety. You, exiled jedi. Him, one of millions, the dedicated soldier sworn to a cause.

And yet, here you are.

Hunter lifts one hand from the floor, reaching up to brush the hair from your eyes, and you find yourself having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from turning your head and nuzzling into his palm, from pushing close and staying, indulging. And while your mind blurs in the frantic flurry of fighting it, he gives in freely, turning his wrist to run his gloved thumb over your jaw. It’s the softest you’ve ever found standard issue blacks to feel, but more importantly, it’s the closest he’s ever been.

“Yay you,” he whispers.

Hunter leans forward, sliding his hand across the side of your neck, his thumb soft at your ear as he curls his fingers into your hair and closes the distance. One moment there’s a vast breadth of space between you; the next, you feel Hunter’s nose brushing over your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin for that last moment of separation. Then you’re moving with him, meeting his lips with soft motions pleading for more as you slide one hand up into his hair and press your chests flush.

He doesn’t taste quite like your dreams, all smooth, sweet freshness dancing over your tongue. Instead, there is raw exhaustion and strain bitter and heady on his skin as he licks over your lower lip. But no matter; it is real and present and Hunter all the same.

The training room silence is broken when he nudges a knee between your legs, pressing close between the want pooling low in your belly, as you barely manage to muffle a whimper into his mouth, breathy and high as you break away to gasp. Hunter grants you that moment of rest, and he’s pulling you back down against him again, holding you tight.

“I’ll stop if you want,” he mumbles against your lips. “We stop, and we forget this ever happened. But.” He pauses to nip at your lips. “You give me the word, and we take this as far as you want, y/n. Understood?”

You nod, too busy chasing his tongue to feel his gaze fixed on you. And, as always, your blissful ignorance does not escape Hunter’s watchful eye. You whine as you feel his fingers close around your chin and lift, pulling away just enough that you can see his dark eyes steady on yours.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whimper, reduced to little more than pleading submission, doe-eyed and dreamy as he slowly runs his thumb over your lip. “Want you, Hunter. Need you.”

“Attagirl.”

He makes a noise that sounds like quiet laughter, but all you care about is that he’s nuzzling against your skin and holding you close. Hunter kisses you with a trembling restraint that you practically feel vibrating under his touch, the excitement of being able to have, the roiling fear of intimacy, vulnerable and open under your palms.

It’s something you know well. You feel the same.

“We should really wash up,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“‘Fresher’s big enough for two,” you say a bit cheekily.

“You really want it all, huh?” Hunter chuckles, squeezing the back of your neck as he presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Never get anything if you don’t ask,” you smile against his lips.

“Can’t disappoint the lady, then, can I?” he grins, dropping his head back down onto the training mat. You sigh, resting your cheek on his collar for a single breath before you feel him shift beneath you, pulling you into his lap as he sits upright. Hunter offers you a final peck, a promise for more in just a short while.

You silently promise you’ll return to the hold come morning and clean up the mats before Echo can chew you out for any sloppiness, but cleanliness is the least of your concerns as you stumble with Hunter towards the threshold, all soft laughter and kisses strayed off their mark. Whatever concerns about anything other than the bliss of the now are even more obscured as the refresher doors slide shut behind you. You laugh as Hunter twists out of his blacks, which almost has you tripping out of your own, but he’s there to catch you, sturdy arms and warm skin to pull you into the stall and under a startling shock of cold water.

Maybe it’s that brief shock of cold before the showerhead runs warm that offers you a moment of clarity, the space and quiet to realize where you stand and take in the man before you. You’re no stranger to proximity, having spent more than one mission squeezed up against Hunter’s side, but closeness doesn’t begin to describe where you stand now, bared to each other beyond simple undress.

A smattering of scars stretches over Hunter’s skin, an organized chaos of milky pockmarks and slashes so often hidden under his armor. You recognize a few, blaster fire and frightened memories of blood and acrid fear, and the rest you save for a later night when you’ve sated the flutter in your chest as your eyes drift lower.

It would be embarrassing, how your mouth waters when you catch sight of his cock, half-hard and framed by a dark thatch of curls. But any need for shame is dismissed by the sheer gravity of want because he’s thick. You had always imagined him to be big—that isn’t much of a surprise—but your stomach churns delightfully at the thought of him stretching you open, making you feel him for days after.

“You’re staring,” Hunter huffs softly.

“Can you blame me?” you breathe.

Hunter laughs, rich and resonant over the patter of the shower spray, and he reaches that short distance forward, gently taking your hand in his and lifting your palm to his lips. You step backwards, letting him crowd you between the wall as you cup his cheek.

His hands, rarely bared to his brothers, let alone you, are strong and weary with scars of war, and he lets them follow the slope of your arm, tracing down your shoulder, your waist, and coming down to your hips, seeing in full clarity under his fingertips.

“Hold on tight.”

“Hunter, wait—ah!”

You yelp as he slips his forearms under your thighs without warning, hefting you up against the cool metal. In your hazy delirium, it occurs to you that you’re both exhausted from sparring and that him holding you up would only wear him down further. You want to tell him you’re perfectly fine on your feet. But whatever protest you may have had planned dies on your lips with a choked sob when you feel his fingers knead into the soft skin of your thighs and tug.

You arch off the wall, breath catching in your throat when you feel Hunter shift his hips forward and anchor you in place as he grinds his cock over your clit. Any hope of forming coherent words, let alone sound, is completely beyond you, now. Heat coils in your gut, all-consuming, white-hot tension pulled tight and ready to snap with each slow motion he makes.

And—the bastard—he’s good at it, too, leaving you squirming under his grip when he shifts away, cruelly aware of the brief moment just as your pleasure crests. Hunter lets you whine, filling the space with firm, insistent kisses over your collar: enough time for your high to ebb, enough time for him to stoke the frustration, the need tight in your core. Then he’s pressing your hips against the wall again and chasing you forwards, hips flush as he nips over your jaw.

All you find yourself able to do is dig your nails into his shoulders and sob.

“Shit, are you crying?” Hunter gasps, nearly dropping you down into a helpless heap under the warm water.

You shake your head wildly, locking your ankles around the small of his back as you keep him in place. It’s enough to startle him back into stillness, and he readjusts his grip on your thighs, the weight of his cock heavy against your throbbing cunt as you gasp for breath.

“I just—I’m fine,” you laugh, bordering delirious as stray drops of water catch on your tongue. “Just fuck me, Hunter. Make it better,” you breathe, chest heaving as you lick your lips. “Please.”

You know the expression that flashes across his face, the need to tease and prod, making gentle light of a dire situation. But this time, Hunter does not entertain it with his signature deadpan drawl, instead meeting you with a soft, imploring kiss.

“So pretty when you beg,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to offer a snappy retort; even in your desperation, there must be some dignity. Instead, your ears fill with the sound of your stuttering gasp over the water pattering against the refresher walls as, finally, finally, you feel the blunt head of his cock dip into your cunt.

Hunter pushes into you with a maddening slowness, one that reduces you to breathless whimpering broken between what gasps you can take. You dig your heels into his back and meet him with a straining moan because Maker, he’s even bigger than you thought, and it’s everything you’ve ever needed.

“Gotta breathe,” Hunter grunts, sinking deeper into you.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a reminder for you or for him, but you manage to slip in a gasping breath before he’s nudging up against a spot that has tears blurring your vision in dizzy euphoria. And when you come down from that high spark, legs jerking over his arms, he’s still pushing impossibly deep into you.

You watch him in a dazed trance, fixed on how his brows furrow with each quiet, flinching gasp that passes his parted lips as your cunt flutters around him. And how, through it all, his eyes never leave yours, boring into you with a fierce intensity, devotion, demanding your attention and pleading for your touch. It’s more than pure physicality, sex under the crushing uncertainty of a bounty and the shadow of conquest at your heels. He reaches for you, as open as he’s ever been, and you reach back.

“Hunter, I—”

Your words give way to a long, aching moan as you feel the sharp dip of his hips finally press up against your ass, filling you like you’ve always been meant to take him. (And you have, you swear, to him, to everything you know.)

“Gonna start moving, okay?” Hunter says through a shuddering sigh. He trails one hand up your side, thumbing over your chin while you tremble in his arms. “Cyar’ika, tell me I can.”

“Please,” you whimper.

And he delivers. You whine, feeling the slow drag, the toe-curling burn as Hunter eases almost completely out of you then pushes back in, just as slow as the first. He’s measured in his motions, and if you could see past the tears welling in your eyes, you’re sure you would see the razor focus over his features. There’s a tense edge you can barely make out from your slack-jawed disorientation, a restraint behind each careful thrust. He’s savoring it, you think as you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

But when Hunter jerks forward, punching the breath from your lungs as he drives up hard, pulling an obscene noise from your lips with a stuttering apology, you realize it’s not some way to draw this out as long as humanly possible. And as good as it is now, it’s not enough.

“H-Hunter,” you start. “Hunter, you—you don’t have to hold back—!” Your voice rises to a wavering pitch when you feel his thumb trail down your stomach, nestling close above where you part around him as he starts to rub gentle motions into your clit.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps sharply with you when he presses deep again.

“You—you physically threw me across the cargo hold—like an hour ago,” you laugh through hiccupy sighs.

“That was different,” he chokes out a soft chuckle. “I want this to be good. For you.”

Trembling wildly, you muster the strength to lift your hand to his cheek, stroking over his wet skin as the refresher patters down around you. The aching stretch of Hunter’s cock between your thighs ebbs into something sweet, warming your chest when he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“You are good to me,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over his skin. “I want this. I want you.”

You hear him inhale sharp, holding his breath as he meets you with dark eyes, wide and searching. To his gaze, you offer him a soft smile. And it’s enough.

You barely have enough time to loop your arms around his neck and hold as Hunter shifts his grip, firm and high up on your thighs, and starts a brutal pace that has you near screaming into his neck. Your legs jerk helplessly with every relentless thrust, and you find yourself knotting your fingers into his hair, cradling his head for some—any—purchase you can find.

It’s reminders like this that while Hunter doesn’t have the imposing stature or towering height of his brothers, his sheer presence alone is overwhelming, surrounding you and consuming you whole in ways the others simply could never. The power is intoxicating, crushing in its pressure, the submission and release to pleasure it demands of you, and you sob, a whiny, choked sound you barely hear over the frantic, wet slap of Hunter’s skin against yours. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and it’s so, so achingly good.

“Fuck, I’ve always—” Hunter gasps, craning his neck to nuzzle up against your jaw. “I’ve always wanted to do this. To have you like this.” You turn your head, meeting him in a lopsided kiss, all tongue and shared breath. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“More,” you whine, crying out when he pins you against the wall, just so he might reach between your thighs again and thumb insistently over your clit.

Even with the water showering over your skin, you’re distinctly aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks, only fitting for the overwhelming sensation building in your core, cresting in blinding heat with every drag, every ridge of his cock moving inside you.

He fucks into you with soft noises, low enough that they might be drowned out by the sound of water if you weren’t pressed so close. It’s fitting, that the stolid discipline of a sergeant might follow him off the battlefield and into the bedroom, but as characteristic of him as it may be, you can’t bring yourself to particularly care—not when he’s holding you up like a ragdoll and bending you to his pleasure. You cling tighter to him with a muffled sob.

It’s nothing like your nights alone in your bunk, wishing for a warm body and something more than hopeful fantasy. Where your fingers only offered you a shot of momentary bliss, this feels like you’re falling apart in his hands, utterly powerless in only the best of ways as the coil in your gut draws tight.

“‘m close,” you croak as the heat seeps bone-deep, spreading down your spine, blazing in the tips of your fingers, and finding home in the buzzing haze between your eyes. “Hunter, I’m—I’m so close.”

“Let go,” Hunter croons, bearing the rough pad of his thumb harder against your clit, pressing firm with every thrust forward, soothing as he draws back. Your cunt squeezes down around him with the spike in want pooled in your gut, drawing a low moan from his lips, and he meets you with a thrust hard enough that you squeal. “Doin’ so well, cyar’ika.”

Trembling, you bury your nose in the juncture of his neck, but you’re pressed backward instead, a light, unyielding pressure at your neck before the back of your head is guided against the metal wall. Hunter holds you at the throat, nothing but a hovering presence of his warmth over your skin, but enough that he commands your attention, steady gaze, pupils blown as he thrusts up against you, pushing you higher and higher against that mindless gap of pleasure with every intent to pull you apart.

“Look at me, y/n,” he murmurs, low and hoarse. “Look at me when you come.”

He drives into you once more, hard, and the tension mounting in your gut breaks like a dam, flooding over your tongue in sweet, simple pleasure that pulses and shudders through your core. You feel it like your body, your visceral pleasure, is not your own, floating in a mindless state of bliss no longer anchored to anything but your rapidly beating heart and the shivering tremors buzzing at your fingertips. Lips parted in a silent cry, your lashes flutter as you let yourself be swept up in the peak of your pleasure, swept up in him, his gaze trained firm, fond on yours.

And you’re too fucked out to do more than gasp, breathy, stuttering inhales as Hunter settles his hands around your waist and starts a pace impossibly faster than before. Somehow, through the aching tremor in your legs and your limp form pressed up against the wall, you manage to keep your grip steady and keep your arms wrapped snug around Hunter’s shoulders. He pulls your pleasure, agonizingly long with no end in sight, chasing his high as you whimper and plead unintelligibly into his ear.

“C-Close?” you manage, digging your fingertips deeper into the sinew of his back.

Hunter hums, a feeble attempt to keep what little composure he has left, but you feel his movements lose the steady rhythm he had maintained thus far, forgoing fluidity and grace for the raw and primal need to satiate. Lucid sensation beyond you, you simply let him take his fill, lazily running your tongue over his lips and holding him tight as he continues to fuck into you with erratic, stuttering thrusts.

And not a moment later, Hunter bears your hips down hard on his, gasping like he’s taken his first breath of air as his climax thunders through him. You squirm in his hold with a thready groan, reveling in the warm spurts of come filling your cunt and oozing down the curve of your ass onto the refresher floor. For all your exhaustion, you curl your fingers at the base of his neck, pulling him close into a slow, lazy kiss, more languid touches than an actual kiss, but a promise of intimacy all the same.

Hunter tips forward and shifts one arm to wrap snug around the small of your back, propping you both against the wall with the other as the tension drains from his coiled poise. He sags forward with a final, shuddering sigh, pulling out of you and setting you on your wobbly feet, to which you promptly pitch forward against his shoulder.

He laughs and catches you with breathless ease.

“I have no idea how we didn’t slip,” you gasp through heaving inhales, shuddering as you feel warm rivulets of come dripping down the skin of your inner thigh. As the pleasure subsides, you return to your surroundings in a haze, faintly aware of the running showerhead, the steam, and you drop your head forward, knocking your forehead gently against Hunter’s.

“Neither do I,” he laughs and nuzzles close. “Next time, we’ll pick somewhere with less water.”

“Next time?” you prod, knowing full well that neither you nor Hunter were particularly fond of mindless flings.

“Next time,” Hunter grins, tipping his head forward and brushing his lips over your brow.

“If you two are done in there!” Echo’s voice, exasperation weary and gruff, cuts through the patter of water against the metal paneling with a bang, nearly sending you and Hunter scrambling apart if the refresher stall wasn’t already so narrow. “We need showers!”

“What do you mean ‘you two?’” Omega chirps from outside the door. You have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing aloud as you watch the rosy pallor drain from Hunter’s face as you hear her muffled protests as someone (likely Wrecker) coaxes her away.

“Not it—you’re giving her the talk,” you quip, biting back a smile as you peck his cheek.

“Maker help me,” he mutters.

#argh tumblr censored my first post #anyways #i originally wanted to write a sparring scene with wrecker but. i think that wouldn't really give you a fighting chance #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #yaej.writes #filter

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