#one of the things that pleased me about this was that it was falling dusk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muwapsturniolo · 6 months ago

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♱ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♱

Pt.01 Pt.02

IN WHICH…A virgin meets the new priest of her church, Father Matt, and her world of all things holy begins to crumble.

WARNINGS… NSFW AHEAD! Religious figures, god is mentioned, Demons, religious abuse, mentions of exorcisms, paranormal activity, making out, fingering, blow jobs, pillow humping, breath play, cum eating, rough sex, virginity mentioned, voyeurism, masturbation, blood, orgasms, death, innocent/nieve!reader, asshole!matt. IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

APOLOGIZING NOW TO ANYONE WHO IS SUPER RELIGIOUS! THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE, I JUST GOT THE IDEA FROM OTHER SMUTS I'VE READ, THE SONG BY PATD!, AND THE MOVIE MOTHER!

This is a long one, like I'm talking 5k sum words. I hope y'all enjoy.

The dark.

It was something many people, both children and adults alike feared

Nyctophobia.

They hated not being able to see their surroundings correctly, to see the color in their life. They hated being alone in what seemed to be an endless descent into a void.

Y/n was the same..

She hated the dark, always has.

However it wasn't the dark that necessarily scared her, it was the fact she knew she wasn't alone in the dark.

When she was younger, she had imaginary friends, they were her only friends. During the day they were nice to her, playing tag with her outside, and holding fun conversations about rainbows and unicorns, but as it got closer to dusk,

They began to change.

Their faces would sink in, and they'd start making clicking noises and whispering. They would creep around her home and tell her to do bad things. She'd beg them to stop, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she did so.

They wouldn't listen, instead they'd get violent.

When nighttime fell, they would grab her feet in bed, attempting to drag her off the safety of her mattress. They would scratch at the walls, screaming as their talons left marks along the pink wallpaper.

She'd curl into a ball, tears rolling down her face as she prayed for god to stop them, but god didn't listen. Her prayers only seemed to enrage her imaginary friends, their screams getting louder as their actions became more violent.

But the only time they'd stop was at 3 AM.

Their screams would suddenly stop, their violent actions coming to an end.

And it was always because of Matt.

He was a ghastly pale boy, his skin being a stark contrast to her warm soft brown skin. He had a round face and sandy brown hair, his blue eyes were piercing.

And he always had a smile on his face.

He'd crawl into bed with the young girl, wrapping his small arms around her and whispering in her ear.

"It's ok Y/n, you'll understand eventually."

She was confused by his words, not understanding what he was talking about. But she never had time to dwell upon it, her eyes falling shut as sleep overtook her.

She was always able to fall asleep quickly when Matt was there,

He was comforting...He was her savior.

But that was yanked away when her parents held her first communion, crowning the girl a child of god and letting her consume the blood and body of Christ.

Her imaginary friends no longer appeared, Matt was gone.

Oddly, she missed it, the nights in which she used to fear and learned to love were taken away in the blink of an eye and she hated it. She would tell her parents how she missed Matt, how she missed the conversations they held at night.

To say her parents were frightened would be an understatement. They accused her of being promiscuous when she didn't even know what promiscuous meant.

They accused her of being friends with the devil.

Instead of just understanding she was a child with an active imagination,

They locked her in the hallway closet.

They wouldn't let her out for a week, ignoring her screams and pleas to be let out.

She was scared, hurt, confused...She didn't understand why she was being punished this way.

So when she was dragged inside her home, soaking wet from the storm outside, and her mother opened the closet,

She lost it.

She screamed as loud as she could, kicking, screaming, and fighting for them not to lock her in that closet again.

"Please! I'm sorry, it won't happen again!" She pleads helplessly to her father. Her glossy eyes stared into her fathers deep and stern ones, hoping he would have a change of heart.

He didn't.

Her body fell backward as he shoved her into the small space, her head hitting a shelf. Ignoring the pain in the back of her head, she scrambled forward, attempting to stop them from closing the door...But it was no use.

The door slammed shut, trapping her in the dark.

Her fists banged against the door, her screams raw and ear-piercing as she begged them to be let out.

but they don't listen.

Her screams eventually come to a stop, turning into soft and raspy whimpers, still pleading for forgiveness under her breath.

They ignored her, giving each other a look before heading to their bedroom to hopefully get some sleep.

A few hours had gone by, and Y/n managed to curl into a ball on the floor, her fingers dancing in the sliver of light casting from the hallway underneath the door.

Her eyes were dead, her throat sore from all the screaming and shouting she was doing earlier.

Suddenly, she feels a presence.

She tense, her fingers stopping all movement.

She thought that it was one of her parents coming to let her out of the closet, but that thought was thrown out when she heard a clicking noise.

The same clicking noise from her childhood.

She scrambles to sit up, her back touching the door as the hairs on her neck stand up.

Her eyes dart around in the darkness, her pupils straining, trying to find what she was looking for.

But she couldn’t see, it was dark.

Her breathing is harsh, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to figure out if her mind is playing tricks on her. She comes to the conclusion that she was in fact hallucinating, and tries to calm down, but that changes in a split second.

The clicking noise happens a centimeter away from her ear.

She lets out an ear-piercing scream, throwing herself further away from whatever was trapped in the closet with her.

It happens so quickly, the clicking noises and screaming multiplying.

She's instantly brought back to all the times she would lay in bed at a young age, screaming for her imaginary friends to stop torturing her.

"Stop it! Please stop! Let me out!" She sobs.

She curled into a ball, her hands over her ears as her eyes clenched shut.

She looked like a child, a scared child.

The screaming and clicking goes on forever, day and night, not that she could tell the time.

All sense of time had been thrown out the window.

She doesn't know how long she was in the closet, the door never opening until eventually,

It did.

The screams stop immediately, the quietness seeming so loud.

Y/n opens her eyes, blinking profusely as she adjusts to the light she hasn’t seen in days.

Once they do finally adjust, she sees a hand outstretched toward her. She follows the limb upward and her eyes land on Matt.

Her savior.

He has a warm and welcoming look on his face, contradictory to the shadows standing behind him.

“It’s ok Angel-” He voices softly as he sees her frightened eyes and splotchy cheeks.

“Take my hand,” He urges.

Hesitantly, the girl takes his hand, no longer wanting to be in the closet. As she rises to her feet her legs begin to shake, weak from being trapped in the closet with nothing to eat or drink besides a single water bottle and a loaf of bread.

Matt wraps an arm around her waist, a neutral expression on his face as he supports her shaking frame.

“Look at you, so weak and scared. They had you in there for six days.” He coos.

Suddenly her parents appear, making her flinch back in fright. She was scared they were going to put her in the closet again, trapping her with the demons.

“Did you do what I asked?” Matt questions with a straight voice. Both adults nod, their eyes casted on traumatized Y/n.

“Yes, Father…They are in your car.”

Matt hums in thanks and looks down at Y/n, “let’s go Angel.”

Her parents watch as she’s pulled out of the home, mumbling a prayer to themselves that their daughter be saved, and whatever demon inside her banished so she can live a full life.

Matt opens the passenger side door, helping her get situated in the car before walking over to the driver's side.

His eyes land on her parents standing by the door.

As they hold eye contact, they can’t help but feel a chill run down their spine. They watch as an eerie smirk makes its way onto the Father’s face.

Matt watches as her parents are yanked backward, the front door slamming shut.

He chuckles and settles into the car, starting the engine and pulling off down the street.

Y/n sits quietly in the car, her eyes dull and face grim.

Matt side-eyes her but says nothing, continuing the drive to their destination. Midway through the drive, he reaches into the backseat and places a brown paper bag in her lap.

“Eat. You need the energy.”

Y/n stares down at the paper bag full of food, her stomach grumbling at the sight. However, she doesn’t dive in.

“F-for what?”

Her voice is raspy, her throat dry from all the screaming and crying she has done. She lifts her head and looks at Matt who’s already looking at her with a devious smile.

“Your exorcism.”

Her heart dropped along with her head, more tears falling from her eyes. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to have an exorcism…She didn’t need one. There was no use in trying to beg him to listen, she figured his and everyone else’s mind was made up. Her hands shake as she begins to eat the food, the sandwich tasting rotten as she tries to wrap her head around what her life has come to.

Eventually, they pull into the lot of a rundown motel. The dim and half-lit sign read “ Cameron Motel”.

Weeds were growing all over the parking lot that had a few dirty cars parked. The building itself was baby pink with baby blue trimming that had graffiti all over it. Some of the windows were boarded up and others were broken.

She was so busy staring at the beat up building, she didn’t realize Matt had gotten out the car. She jumps when her door opens, her head turning and looking up at a stoic Matt.

“Get out of the car Angel.”

Her breath hitches but she does as told, hugging herself as she stands in front of him. He grabs her arm, and quickly drags her towards the entrance.

Despite the eerie and dark aura of the motel, she can’t help but find an appeal to it. She knew that if the building was taken care of, it would look beautiful.

Yet, she still finds herself crossing, her index and middle finger drawing a cross that catches her head and chest, to both her shoulders.

As they enter the dingy building, her nostrils immediately begin to burn with the smell of asbestos and formaldehyde.

She coughs a little as she takes in her surroundings. Just like the outside, the inside was decaying right before her eyes.

She’s taken out of her examination by a girl in her bra and underwear running past her, the girl laughing and squealing as a boy chases her in his boxers. She jumps in shock and presses herself closer to Matt, her cheeks warm from seeing the girl so exposed.

Matt ignores her obvious signs of being flustered and keeps walking.

As they walk down the dimly lit hallway, she hears all sorts of things behind closed doors.

Screaming, crying, moaning, and tv static.

The occupants of the motel seemed to have a very different outlook on life.

But who was she to judge? She was the one here for an exorcism, not them.

They approach a door at the end of the hallway, the room number reading 333. Matt pushes the door open and to Y/n's surprise, the room isn't as dirty like she thought it would be.

A king size bed sits in the middle of the room, adorned in clean white sheets. The floor is carpeted with no stains, and there is a tv sitting on a stand across the bed.

Matt gently pushes her inside the room and closes the door, throwing the bag on his arm on a nearby chair. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room as Matt walks around. Her head is cast downward but she can see him removing his blazer.

He throws it down on the edge of the bed, soon sitting next to it and facing her. He examines her timid frame and hums to himself.

They sit in a pregnant silence before he finally speaks, "Take that bag with you into the bathroom. Get yourself ready."

She eyes the bag on the chair and finally looks back to Matt, "W-whats in there?"

"Just take the bag, and get ready," he demands. She nods and timidly grabs the bag, holding it to her chest as she makes her way into the bathroom. She sets the bag on the counter and unzips it, all her movements stopping when she sees what's inside.

She pulls out a razor and some type of women's shaving cream, shampoo and conditioner, and the final product,

A white dress with a thin pair of white satin underwear.

She takes out the white dress, holding it up by the shoulder straps, and examines it.

It looked like her usual nightgowns, except more provocative.

Her cheeks warm at the thought of seeing herself in the dress, Matt seeing her in the dress. She sets the dress down and looks back at the shaving products. She's a bit confused at the idea of shaving considering her mother and father never let her do so, telling her that children of the lord don't need to shave, and if she does shave she's a Jezebel.

But that's what she is right? That's what her father has deemed her as,

A Jezebel.

With that, she strips herself of her clothing, climbing into the shower, and cleanses herself. With never having shaved before, she takes quite a bit of time getting rid of the hair on her body, especially in other areas.

She climbs out of the shower and dries off, rubbing a vanilla-scented lotion into her skin and slipping on the dress, underwear, and knee highs.

She stares at herself in the mirror and examines herself.

Although she's exposed, looking whorish as her father would put it, she likes what she sees in the mirror. She loves the way her brown skin is a stark contrast to the white dress, and how soft and plump her skin is.

She has a glow...an Angelic glow.

She slowly turns towards the door and hesitates as she reaches for the handle. She's a nervous wreck at the idea of Matt seeing her so exposed, no one has ever seen her in such a state since she was a baby.

She debates on locking herself in the bathroom, but she knows that's not logical. With a fast-beating heart, she slowly opens the door, her left hand clutching the rosary that hangs in the valley of her breasts, tucked into her lingerie.

She steps out of the bathroom, her eyes landing on Matt who's still sitting on the edge of the bed, but now he's smoking a cigarette. He doesn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the TV that's playing nothing but static.

"F-Father?" She addresses shakily.

Matt says nothing as he stands up from the bed, walking over to the window and drawing the curtains shut.

"Sit in the middle of the bed, on your knees, palms turned upward," he demands, loosening his tie. She tenses but does as told, her heart beating wildly as she anticipates what's to come.

Matt ashes out the cigarette, throwing his tie somewhere in the room as he finally turns to her.

She watches as he looks her up and down, his eyes staying on her chest with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. She flinches when he finally makes eye contact with her, her head dropping downward almost instantly.

"What did you see?"

She looks up in confusion, not understanding the question. Matt moves to the foot of the bed, standing tall above her.

"In the closet, what did you see?"

Her breath hitches at the question, scared to tell him the truth.

As if he's reading her mind, he tells her to tell him the truth.

"I-I...S-shadows...."

Matt hums, taking a step closer to the bed. "Shadows...and what were the shadows doing?"

"Sometimes they would j-just stand quietly...staring at me. O-other times they are whispering, screaming...clicking."

Matt says nothing for a moment, staring at her with such an intense gaze she feels something in her lower abdomen. "And how long has this been going on?"

"S-since I was five... but it stopped when I was 7, when I first had the body and blood of Christ." Matt's eyes turn into slits, his posture becoming tense.

"Your parents told me about your imaginary friends, how you explained they would go bump in the night but would stop. Why and how would they stop?"

Matt's words become quick, almost as if he's excited, anticipating her answer.

"T-they would stop at 3 AM- The devil's hour." Her heart drops as he cuts her off, her eyes wide in fear.

"W-what?"

"The devil's hour, anytime between 3 and 4 AM when demons, ghosts, anything considered hellish are their most powerful. They can cross borders between realms, speak to the living, touch the living." His words hint at something, something Y/n isn't picking up.

"T-they were demons?" She whispers softly, her hands that were still facing upward shaking and beginning to sweat. Matt smiles at her, that devilish smile that she finds herself often thinking and dreaming about.

"I believe so...So tell me, why and how they would stop." He urges once more. "I um...They-they would stop when he appeared..."

"Who's he?"

"Ma-" She stops herself as her mind begins to connect the dots. The boy who she deemed her savior, the one who showed up at 3 AM and made the things that go bump in the night disappear. The boy who would cuddle her at night and hold small conversations with her.

She wasn't sure at first, but as she started to analyze his features, everything from the head down, it was the same person.

He was standing in front of her...In all his glory.

Matt's grin grows tenfold as he sees she's connecting the dots.

"Did you miss me, angel?"

She thought if she ever saw the boy she considered a friend again, she would be jumping for joy, but instead, she crawled backward towards the head of the bed.

She was scared.

Her hands shake as she covers her mouth, the reality setting in.

"Y-you're the Devil!" she accuses softly.

Matt chuckles and turns toward the mirror behind him, still holding eye contact with the frightened girl.

"Devil? No. A product of hell itself? Yes."

Y/n feels her whole world crumbling. She couldn't wrap her head around how her life had come to this, why she was the one picked for this?

What could she have done from the time she was born, to be deemed of this fate? Was this her punishment for what she had done in a past life? Was this punishment for using God's name in vain when she was younger?

"I told you when we were younger that one day you'll understand, that time is now." He grabs a bottle of wine and pours himself a glass, taking a long sip before turning around and leaning against the dresser.

"You see, your mother wanted a baby, and with your father shooting blanks, she was never able to have one. Despite calling herself a woman of god, she made a deal at the crossroads with my father, the devil himself. She was dumb, crying and begging for a child so bad, she didn't care about the repercussions that came with it."

Y/n feels as if she's going to pass out, all this information too much for her to handle.

"So she made the deal, the deal to give her little baby girl to one of the devil's sons. Me."

y/n quickly shakes her head, refusing to believe the truth. "Y-you're lying! You're a liar! She would have never done that!" She shouts, tears running down her face. she begins to pray, hoping that god will listen and make all of this stop, hoping that he will save her. Matt grows angry, throwing the glass of red wine on the floor as he crawls onto the bed. He grips her jaw tightly, getting in her face.

"Stop praying! God can't help you, he was never able to help you!" He bellows, the whole room seeming to shake. She opens her watering eyes and Matt relaxes just the smallest bit. He removes his harsh grip on her jaw and wipes her tears away.

"You're pretty when you cry Angel, so pretty."

He inches closer to her face, his breath fanning softly. " You're mine Angel, you always were-" His hand drops from her face and down to her shoulder, his fingers fiddling with the straps of her dress.

"-You know it's true, I know you feel the connection. I kept you safe when we were younger, making all the bad stop."

Her thighs tense as his other hand grazed the freshly shaved skin, his fingers dancing along the hem of the dress.

"I've only made you feel good, I showed you how good life could be in both your daydreams and at night. I broadened your mind, I gave you pleasure."

She gasps softly at his last words.

"T-that was you....My thoughts a-and the moment in the confessional?"

He nods, a soft smile on his face, "that it was. I knew you'd appreciate it, you never felt a sense of belonging following that path. You knew they were lying, sex isn't bad, touching yourself isn't bad, and reading whatever you want isn't bad. You enjoy those things, I want you to enjoy those things. I want you to be free, I can give it to you. you just have to trust me...Do you trust me?"

She comes to the conclusion that he's right, he never lied to her. he's only ever broadened her mind, gave her what she craved, lusted after.

He was her savior.

He was her god.

"Tell me you trust me Angel, grant me the access to give you freedom." she looks to her right, watching his hand toy with the thin string on her shoulder.

She doesn't know what he means by freedom, but she wants to be free. She knows there's more to life than her small town and the path of God. She wants to experience things, she wants to create memories,

She wants to live.

With dried tears on her cheeks, she looks back up at him.

"I trust you."

That's all Matt needed to hear before his lips crashed against hers, hungry and ready to devour her. Y/n is caught off guard, never having kissed anyone before. She doesn't exactly know what to do so she lets Matt take the lead.

Matt doesn't care, he knows of her innocence, and he loves it. In fact, it's a turn-on for him, knowing that he is the once who's going to ruin her.

He pulls away from the feverish kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw and to her neck. His hands rest on her waist, his knee in between her thighs and lightly rubbing against her core. He grabs her hand and places it on the tent in his pants.

He can feel her tense, he can hear her heart thumping wildly.

It drives him wild.

"You have me so worked up Angel, this is all for you. You did this." He holds her hand as he guides it in an up-and-down motion, moaning softly in her ear, expressing the effect she has on him.

It gets her hot and bothered, that tingly feeling she usually feels in between her legs when she usually thinks of Matt expanding. Matt chuckles, his lips brushing against her ear as he gently ruts into her palm.

"I can smell you Angel...you smell so sweet, delectable, divine even."

Y/n pants heavily, her body feeling electric. It felt just like her dreams, so real, intimate, right.

It felt right.

Every inch of her body that he touches feels hot, her muscles flexing at the soft yet heavy touch.

He leaves multiple hickeys along her neck and collarbone, sucking and biting at the skin in a way to claim her.

He pulls back and and yanks her towards him by her thighs, he stares down at her, appreciating how her curls fan out across the white pillows, adoring the marks he created on her body.

She was Angelic.

He pushes her legs apart and looks down, grinning wildly as he sees the wet patch in the underwear. His finger tickles her inner thighs as he takes his time getting to her core, her chest rising and falling harshly.

"When you touched yourself, did you think of me?"

He chuckles as she turns her head away from him. "I know you did, I know of everything you dreamt of. How you imagined my fingers plunging into your mess of a cunt, how you imagined my tongue lapping at your folds."

He rips the underwear off with ease, her eyes widening in shock from the action and now being exposed. She tries to close her legs but he shoves them apart.

"And my personal favorite, was me fucking you so hard, you kept begging me to keep going. Is that what you want Angel? You want me to be your God and fuck you?"

She nods sluggishly, drunk off of his erotic and intoxicating words.

She gasps softly at the foreign feeling of his fingers trailing through her folds. It was nothing like how her fingers felt, it felt better. Her eyes flutter shut as she relishes in the newfound pleasure, only for them to fly open when two fingers are slipped inside of her.

Matt instantly begins to thrust, curling the slim digits in efforts to break the girl. Her jaw drops as her eyes roll back, the lewd squelching noises make her back arch.

"You're so tight-shit- can barely move my fingers Angel. I can't wait to have you wrapped around me." He grunts out as he watches her walls clamp down on his fingers. She's already making a mess and he has barely done anything.

He takes his fingers out and smears her mess over her lips before slowly pushing them side her mouth.

“Suck.”

She does as told and sucks on his fingers, finding herself addicted to her own taste. Matt smirks and slips them out of her mouth, trailing the saliva down her chin to her chest. He wraps his fingers around the rosary and yanks it off, the beads flying all over the bed.

A metaphor for her being stripped of her innocence.

Before she can fix her lips to say something, Matt’s lips crash against hers once more. Her arms wrap around him, her eyes closed as she kisses him back as if her life depended on it.

Matt rips his button-up off, throwing it somewhere in the room before he starts to unbuckle his belt. Once he manages to take his pants off, he pulls away from the kiss and forces her on her knees, a pillow being pushed in between her legs.

He pulls his boxers down making her eyes widen in shock. She's never seen male body parts before, ever. She looks up at Matt, an unsure look in her eyes.

"Go on, put it in your mouth," he persuades, eager to finally feel her mouth on him.

"I-I- don't k-know ho- Yes you do." He cuts her off, his hand wrapped around his own member and jerking himself off. She watches with wide eyes, unintentionally grinding against the pillow in between her legs.

"Put it in your mouth, lick on it like you do your ice cream cones." Matt's mind flashes back to the park, watching her walk away from the ice cream stand licking and sucking on her vanilla cone.

He wanted to claim her that day in the park, taking her under the tree for all to see, but he couldn't, he had to wait.

Y/n hesitantly moves her head forward, giving a small kitten lick to his tip. Matt's whole body shudders, the urge to fuck her mouth too strong.

He snaps.

He fists a handful of her hair and pushes himself in her mouth, groaning loudly as she gags and chokes around him. Her eyes clenched shut as the salty tears streamed down her face. "Fuck-look at me Angel," he grunts as her throat contricts around him.

She manages to open her eyes, her tears flowing even faster.

"Keep em' open," he says beginning to bob her head up and down. She does her best to follow his orders, her mouth opened as wide as it could go. She figures out that she should breathe through her nose instead of her mouth, the air flowing into her lungs easier. However, that was short-lived when Matt pinches her nose, preventing her from breathing. Instead of bobbing her head up and down, he thrusts his hips harshly, enjoying the choking and gargling noises coming from the girl on her knees.

She tries to breathe through her mouth, but it's proven difficult with the speed at which his genitalia is abusing her throat, and yet

She loves it.

She shamelessly ruts against the pillow between her legs, chasing that euphoric feeling she felt not too long ago in the confessional. She knows if her parents saw the ludicrous acts she was performing on a male, they would have a heart attack. But she didn't care, she loved how warm she felt, how safe she felt.

She loved being used.

She looks up at Matt, watching how beautiful he looks with his head thrown back and jaw slacked. It's an image that will forever be burned inside her brain.

Suddenly his thrusts stop, a warm and salty liquid filling up her mouth. He pulls himself out of her mouth, watching as his semen leaks past her lips. Instead of telling her to swallow, he wraps a hand around her throat and kisses her.

He moans into the kiss, lapping his own fluids out of her mouth.

He lifts her back onto the bed with ease, crawling over her panting and dazed form. He settles in between her legs, already lining himself up with her clenching hole.

Y/n doesn't know what's next, she's still trying to catch her breath, but she doesn't have much time to dwell on it once Matt shoves himself inside her. A strangled yelp leaves her throat and her hand flies to his abdomen, attempting to stop him or at least slow him down.

But Matt does neither, instead, he begins to pound into her relentlessly.

"I-It b-burns!" She yelps, trying to stop his brutal pace. He ignores her cries of pain, his eyes trained on the blood seeping out of her cunt, coating his cock and painting the hem of the white lingerie adorning her body. He lets out a deep and animalistic growl, his grip on her thighs tightening at the sight.

"You love it-fuck- you love the burn. It feels so good doesn't it Angel? You love the way my cock stretches you out, the way it fills you up so good you can feel it in your lungs,"

It's as if he's warping her mind, forcing her to believe his words,

and that's because he is.

With each word he speaks, the burning pain becomes pleasurable, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Her arms drop to the sides of her head, her body too weak to move on its own.

Small noises and nonsensical babbles exit her throat, her mind dizzy and fogged by the pleasure she's receiving. She couldn't believe that this is what sex feels like. She couldn't understand how something so heavenly could be considered a sin when it's so euphoric.

She begs and pleads for him to give her more, to make her feel alive.

"P-please! Please please ple-Oh God!" She arches her back when a certain spot inside of her is stimulated. Matt lets out an airy laugh, his hips still driving into her at an inhuman pace,

"That's right Angel, beg for me, beg for your God."

In the height of her pleasure, she begins to feel..odd. Almost as if there are people in the room with them. She manages to focus her eyes behind Matt, and what she sees shakes her to her core.

The shadows, the shadows she has become all too familiar with are watching, watching Matt ravage her. There's a bunch of them crowding the room, their bodies blending into each other as their groans of excitement fill the room. Matt can sense her panic, watching her eyes dart around erratically.

"It's ok Angel, they have to watch," he rasps out, his movements never ending.

"Don't look at them, look at me." He demands. However, she doesn't listen. She can't pull her eyes away from the faceless shadows, captured in a trance by their dark aura.

And that's when she starts to notice other things.

The paint on the walls is peeling, deteriorating right before her eyes. The room begins to reek of death, the smell so pungent she finds it harder to breathe. Particles of dust float in the air, a hazy film coating her eyes.

The room becomes scorching hot, suffocating the girl as a thin layer of sweat covers her body.

Y/n heaves as Matt continuously ruts into her, her chest burning as it screams for oxygen. Too much is going on for her to comprehend, the world moving slowly yet spinning so fast.

Her eyes finally avert back to Matt, her mouth open as no sounds leave her mouth. She sees the eerie smile that plants itself on his face, the dark look in his eyes. If she concentrated hard enough, she could even see the small horns coming out of his head and the pointy tail swaying behind him.

She sees the truth, she sees him for what he is.

The spawn of the Devil himself.

She feels as if her soul is leaving her body, every limb and muscle vibrating. Her jaw goes slack as she feels a sharp pain in her chest, as well as a pleasurable feeling in her lower region. Her eyes roll back as her whole body shakes violently, a metallic taste coats her tastebuds as she begins to cough and sputter out blood. The red liquid stains matts face as well as the white lingerie, before eventually coming to a halt.

Matt finds himself experiencing his own release, throwing his head back as he paints her gummy walls a pearlescent white. He groans as he pulls out of her, his dick falling limp as he crawls backward off the bed. His chest rises and falls quickly as he pulls his pants up, buckling his belt.

He pants as he stares down at her lifeless body, analyzing everything about her deadly appearance. He walks over to the side of the bed, brushing one of her curls out of her face, trailing his fingers through the blood splatter on her face.

"So pretty even in death, an angel plucked of it's wings."

he scoops her up bridal style and holds her close to his chest, her arm dangling as her head is draped back. The door to the room opens, revealing a dark abyss that still holds a blinding light.

He walks over to the door looking down at the dead girl in his arms, the shadows in the room whispering amongst themselves eagerly.

"you'll rise like a phoenix from the ashes, in all its beauty. You'll gain new wings that will set you free. You'll finally be mine...My wife."

He kisses her forehead softly and walks through the threshold of the door, into the darkness.

The door slams behind him, leaving the room empty.

The dingy structure of the motel begins to shake in the wake of the door slamming. The lights begin to flicker, cracks appearing in the ceiling. it's not long before the old and moldy building crumbles in on itself, leaving no trace of Matt and Y/n, or the other tenants and their caricatures of intimacy.

AHHHHHHH ITS FINALLY DONE! IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT WITH WHAT I LIKE TO CALL WW1 OF TUMBLR TRULY DRAINED ME AND I NEEDED A BREAK. PLZ LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK AND IF YALL WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE FICS LIKE THIS ( OBVI WITH A DIFFERENT PLOT).

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668

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phantomwithbreakfast · 2 months ago

Text

~ Danny Phantom ~

“What does it feel like? To be terrified of yourself—of what you are becoming? The future looms not like an open road but a trap, a dark inevitability. You’re not waiting for it, not watching for it. You’re running. Trying to ignore the whispers in your head, lying to yourself that it’s fine, that it’ll always be fine.”

When the sun goes under the line called a horizon, the night sky comes to life. A silvery moon’s light bathing the eerie glow of an aura, catching the shadow out of the black.

The darkness surrounded him, with little sparks of hope. Stars that couldn’t catch him, neither he could catch.

His veins flowing with cold fire, tingling skin feeling intangible. A mind that’s filled with hollow, yet spiraling in chaos. Split into divergent, until down and dusk.

Why are you doing this to me? You leave me standing here, can’t you see. I was lost in your eyes, this was never meant to arise. You were my hero, always to be. But now you’ve vanished, you’re no longer with me.

We tried to carry on, but it wasn’t right. Forever burned in memory, like a song in the night.

Why does this hurt, hurt so much. It was never meant to be, as such. You gave me strength to stand alone, but now I cry when I’m on my own. Drowning inside, lost in a sea, why are you doing this to me? It makes me weak, a strange kind of ache, you’ll never understand the pain I take.

The memories keep running on, of how it used to be, before you were gone. The hero you were is no longer here, you flew away, so light, like a feather near. Don’t do this to me, please come back.

I still wonder why it had to be this way, so much potential, yet it all went astray. You went a different path, never to be seen, this wasn’t meant to happen, it was too obscene.

It lingers like a song, etched in my mind, it should have brought us joy, a love so kind. Like a song, will you ever return?

When will you be here again? I miss you more with every grain. Forever chained within my heart, I bring you to life through every art. In my memory, you’ll always remain, and beside you, I’ll forever stand.

“I want to cry, I want to scream, but I can’t. I mustn’t.”

The storm raged on, tearing through the night. Shadows of fear and regret clung to her like chains.

“Take my hand,” Danny said, his voice calm, cutting through the chaos.

“Why? So you can watch me crumble? So I can drag you down with me?”

His eyes softened, but his hand never wavered. “If you crumble, I’ll catch you, I’ll follow. Just trust me.”

“You… don’t understand.”

“I don’t need to understand,” he said softly. “I’ll carry you, no matter what happens, I’ll never let you fall.”

Slowly and with a trembling hand, she reached for him. Their fingers met, and his grip was strong, cold but alive—everything she thought she’d lost.

The chaos began to still, and she felt the faint echo of something she thought was gone.

Hope.

Those were random texts I wrote through the years of my own existence.

———————

You can read my Phan Fics on FanFiction.net. PhantomWithBreakfast

———————

Note to myself again…

About the drawings, I was just playing (practicing) with lighting, shading, etc…

Expressions, mouths... Yeah, still working on that. I was too lazy to shade the hair, lol.

Still hate drawing hands.

And the funny thing is, just because I’m drawing every day, I’ll always find new ways to try to improve my art (duh). Because I’m never happy when I’ve ‘finished’ one.

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mysteria157 · 8 months ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light Profanity, Light Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Fingering, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Public Sex (Sort of), Office Sex

WC: ~9.8k

Summary:

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

Notes: Hello! Had a random thought this morning and decided to roll with it and practice writing Nanami some more. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

This is a prime example of me writing smut when I feel like it. Please do not ask me for more related to this story and please do not ask me to write smut, the answer is no lol. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @arminsumi | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

The city summers are a different kind of hell. The humid heat clings to Nanami, making his skin feel instantly tacky as if he hasn’t showered in days. It wreaks havoc on his usual crisp suit and tie, causing the fabric to stubbornly adhere in unflattering ways. He thinks back wistfully to his bachelor days when he could simply escape such misery by holing up inside with the AC blasting, and then wait until the evening for a walk or to run errands. But that was before you came into his life like a vivacious sunbeam, all warmth and carefree laughter.

Now, he wouldn’t dream of depriving you of simple joys like strolling hand-in-hand through the park, watching you bask in nature’s dazzling seasonal shifts. The fragrant flowers blooming, the fireflies flickering to life as dusk settles, the earthy pre-rain smell you adore—he lives for the ease of these tranquil moments.

Throughout your relationship, Nanami has cataloged your ever-changing looks to match the passing seasons. The oversized chunky sweaters and leggings you’d cuddle up in during fall’s crisp breezes. The sleek peacoats and woolen scarves wound around your neck when winter blanketed the city in soft stillness.

But summertime is when your vibrant spirit and personal style shines. And it’s Nanami’s first summer with you when everything changes.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

And it’s a season that has awoken something primal within him. Something in his gut stirs, something in his mind shifts and the more he notices, the more he feels like a lecherous old man instead of the well-mannered one in his late twenties. While his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat-slicked skin you get to slip into breezy summer dresses that let every inch of your beautiful body breathe.

As an event planner constantly on the move, you seem to live in the wispy, colorful outfits at all hours of the day. Like the buttercup yellow and candy pink number currently floating around you as you stroll together to the bakery during your shared lunch hour. It’s modest—cotton fabric that doesn’t stick to you, with ruffle short sleeves and a V-neckline that highlights your collarbones and the delicate diamond necklace resting between.

Nanami risks a sidelong glance, instantly regretting it when his gaze gets trapped by the way the bright floral pattern sways and twists with each step you take. The hem brushes the brown skin of your knees and while he can’t see much, Nanami knows the soft curves hidden underneath the airy fabric intimately.

While the caveman part of him can understand the underlying meaning of sundress season, it’s everything else that flares his want for you. It’s the wild curls that brush your cheeks and neck, the diamond earrings that reflect in the sun, the curl of your long lashes that kiss your lower lids when you blink. And yes—the gorgeous dress that you have on enhances everything about you—but in the most basic sense, you are beautiful.

“You’re staring.” It’s a playful accusation that you direct at him even though your eyes are admiring the tulips that you both walk past.

He quickly averts his eyes, sharp cheeks blazing a fiery red. “My apologies I…” Nanami clears his throat, struggling to regain his usual unruffled demeanor. “That dress looks lovely on you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, pausing so he can open the bakery door for you. “You think so? I just picked it up last week. Perfect for this heat, isn’t it?”

Nanami swallows hard at the teasing tilt to your tone, the innocent question feeling anything but. From the very first day he met you—that very first day you knocked back a glass of expensive whiskey and smiled at him as if it was nothing—he’s come to accept that you have no reservations of flustering him. You thrive on it, and for as stiff as Nanami is, you are a breath of fresh air that he never imagined would slide into his lungs.

Umber eyes watch you walk ahead of him and into the welcoming AC of the bakery, tantalizing calves flexing with each step.

“Very much…” is all he can manage, hastily ripping his eyes away again as his equilibrium dangerously shifts.

You laugh lightly at his sudden silence, the warm, rich sound simultaneously soothing his thundering heart and making it trip up all over again. “You act like you’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

“You know that’s not true,” he mutters, switching his gaze to the menu to avoid your entirely too-innocent smile. “I simply…appreciate fine things.”

The rich ring of your answering chuckle sends molten desire licking traitorously down his spine. “Is that so? Then I’ll have to acquire more of these stunning ‘fine things’ for you to appreciate this summer…”

He should have known better than to egg you on. Had he kept his eyes to himself and brushed off your knowing glances, he could have enjoyed you without your playful watch. But for as smart as Nanami is, for as observant and vigilant in his work as he is in his life outside of it, he can never wrap his head around how devious you truly are.

One day, the weather calms down enough for lunch at the park. It’s the perfect day to eat outside. The sun is high in the sky but the canopy of trees gives you both the protection you need from harsh rays.

“Need any help setting up?” You call out, shrugging off the ice denim jacket from your shoulders to reveal this summer’s newest addition—an angelic white sundress adorned with delicate lace trim.

Nanami’s throat tightens and he shakes his head, unfurling a blue blanket onto the thick grass below you both. “I can do it, love. Please just relax.”

He carefully arranges the picnic blanket, spreading the wrinkles free before you plop down on one side. As you dig into the large lunchbox, he admires the crisp white cotton that seems to skim over your frame, covering you but still unable to touch. Thin straps leave your shoulders bare, your skin glowing in the sun from your shimmery sunscreen. No necklace this time, so the square neckline dips just enough to offer a subtle hint of cleavage. The stretchy ribbed material hugs and accentuates every lush curve before gently flaring into an effortless, free-flowing skirt.

You purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration, leaning more over the lunchbox, your back straightening to steady yourself before he watches free of shame as you arch just so.

When you turn to flash him that achingly fond smile, your curls falling over one shoulder, all traces of decency flee from Nanami’s mind. In that moment, he’s transported back to those dizzying early days of your relationship—entirely captivated, yet utterly terrified of somehow shattering this dazzling, undeserved connection between you.

“Thirsty?” You hold out one of the banana milk boxes that he’s grown to love since your presence, an impish quirk of your brow, clearly aware of his slow descent into hell.

Nanami nods jerkily and takes the milk box, unable to find his voice for a beat. As you settle down gracefully beside him, the skirt drifts up in a gentle billow, shaping to and showcasing skin. He has to tear his eyes away from the wicked flashes of toned thigh with extreme willpower.

Like the devil you are, you toss him a coy smirk, shiny lip gloss clear even though he knows it tastes like strawberry. “We gonna eat or are you just gonna gawk at me like a weirdo?”

He can’t help the scoff that leaves him as he pulls out sandwiches for you both. “I thought you liked when I gawk at you.”

“Not when I’m hungry.”

He shakes his head, smirking softly as he removes the cling wrap before handing you your half, your fingers brushing against his. Warm pleasure blooms in his chest at the radiant sight you make contrasted against the swaying greenery. It’s as if you don’t belong but he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. You take a generous bite of your sandwich, a smear of mustard in the crease of your lips as you offer him a gentle smile.

As the scorching summer rages, Nanami can’t help but chastise himself. A mundane and childish social meme has become the representation of the hardest test he’s ever taken. Maybe he should have asked for tips from Yuji on how to better prepare himself.

He’s always prided himself on admiring from afar, on controlling his emotions in public and savoring them later in private. He knows your beauty and the unintentional way you drain the air around him. But he’s always been able to offer that soft smile, place a hand on your shoulder or your waist and offer a compliment to whatever you’ve chosen to wear for the day. But recently, in the face of your summertime wardrobe choices, Nanami finds that steely discipline faltering at an alarming rate.

Sinking deeper into the plush living room sofa, Nanami exhales a deep sigh and allows the tension thrumming through his shoulders to bleed away. Here, surrounded by the apartment’s climate-controlled sanctuary, he can savor these increasingly rare moments of solitary peace sprawled out with a good book. It’s a well-deserved shared day off for you both—free of schedules, obligations, or anything more strenuous than lounging around with each other. And more importantly, at home, you’re nothing but comfortable clothes and soft pajamas.

He’s safe.

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he imagines the look of feigned innocence you always sport whenever he gets too overt about appreciating your seasonal attire. As if you don’t know the absolutely devastating effect even the simplest hair toss or twirl has on what’s left of his challenging self-restraint these days.

It’s going to be a great day. He’s almost done with this book, just three more chapters and then he can start another in his pile that he wants to tackle this summer. That’s right, Nanami Kento is going to—

The soft pad of your bare feet against the hardwood floors has Nanami glancing up instinctively from behind the novel’s pages. And just like that, the world around him completely whites out as if he’s been hit over the head with a brick.

You’ve emerged from the hallway in a yellow sundress so vibrantly captivating, so deliciously clingy and effortlessly suggestive that he nearly swallows his tongue in surprise. The rich gold hue kisses the deep tone of your skin, as if you’re a sunflower blooming under the artificial lighting of the apartment. The dress accentuates your shape in the most brazenly tantalizing way—the thin ruffle straps on your shoulders, the sweetheart neckline hinting at full cleavage, the dress’ light hem hitting indecently high on your thighs in playful flirty wisps.

But it’s the stretchy knit fabric’s complete inability to disguise any curve or meaty swell that really has Nanami sitting up straighter on the cushions. It’s not layered well enough—almost transparent—and the snug material leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, from the outline of bright panties that cover the soft spread of your hips to the pert dusky points outlined beneath the bodice.

Absolutely devastating and on full, confident display and this isn’t fair because he has three chapters left.

He barely registers the “What are you reading?” you offer him over one shoulder as you stroll towards the kitchen area in that swaying, uninhibited saunter that never fails to ignite his senses. Nanami simply sits there transfixed—one hand gripping the spine of his book while the other claws restlessly against his own inner thigh. Each roll of your hips has that thin dress swishing and lifting in tiny torturous glimpses that have his imagination veering wildly into unrestrained territory. But he’s at home, that’s okay right?

That’s when you shift your weight onto the tips of your toes, your back turned to him, stretching up towards the top cabinets with one hand braced against the counter…and the entire world seems to judder to a halt all over again. Because from this new vantage point, Nanami can’t tear his eyes away from the call of your legs, the dimples on the backs of your thighs, up, up to the hem and—

A guttural sound wrenches free from low in his diaphragm, a mix of a groan and a growled curse. He looks back down to his book, searching aimlessly for where he left off, flickering back over to you just as quick.

He should look away, tear his eyes off of the gloriously indecent picture you’ve unwittingly created simply by existing. And yet…Nanami finds his stare burning an increasingly blazing trail down the bewitching ‘V’ between your shoulder blades, past the delicious dip of your arched lower back to the toned flare of your thighs and calves below.

At one point, you bend even deeper at the waist, hips tilting up as you struggle to reach a particularly elusive item on the high shelf. The filmy yellow skirt jumps and flirts up with the motion, granting Nanami a shameless eyeful of toned thighs and the flash of his favorite pair of panties—lilac with lace along the edges that squeeze the skin of your ass in the most inviting way. He very nearly drops the book from his suddenly slack fingers at the sight, hissing out a low curse between his teeth.

You huff out an adorable sound of frustration as you fail to reach whatever item you’re going for, and he knows he should step in to assist like the gentleman he is. But his stare remains rooted to spot, ogling and committing it all to memory so he can think about it later—alone.

“Let me get that,” he finally manages to scrape out, voice gone low and gritty with naked yearning despite his best efforts at nonchalance.

You shoot him one of those bright, beaming smiles over your shoulder in response—blissfully unaware of the effect your glowing, ethereal beauty has on him even without your intentional teasing. “Just grabbing the flour for dinner,” you explain sheepishly, leaning into his broad form as he comes up behind you and grabs the ingredient on the top shelf. “I always have trouble reaching.”

And isn’t that just symbolic as all hell? His curvy, tempting beloved constantly hovering just beyond his reach these past few weeks—unattainable without discarding every last vestige of control he has. It isn’t like you both don’t have sex. You do…often. There’s just always been a build up, never anything explosive.

Even in the privacy of your home, he’s never thrown caution to the wind. Nanami has always been one to savor every calculated build of pleasure in its precious sequence. You’ve expressed your satisfaction readily enough, reciprocating his passion with that same rapturous abandon you bring to all aspects of life. But in all the years of his tiring, overworked life, you are the first to show him what it feels like to never walk a predetermined line.

“This is…I’ve never seen you wear it inside,” Nanami manages, his throat feeling increasingly dry as his eyes trace the line of fabric on your shoulders.

You take the flour from him, shooting him a sly, knowing look from beneath your lashes as you turn to face him fully. “It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He can’t stop the reflexive glance that rakes over every inch of you. “It’s sixty-eight degrees.”

You lean in a fractional amount—just enough for the swell of your breasts to brush against his shirt as you crane up towards his face. “Well, I run hot,” you murmur, voice dropping into the pits of hell, a throaty register that bypasses Nanami’s higher cognitive functions entirely.

He’s beyond undone. Frozen in place with desperate, rapturous hunger raging through his very marrow. This close, he can make out the small raised moles on your exposed shoulders, the genetic blemishes that are common for your skin tone. He gets a better view of the rigid peaks of your nipples straining against the thin fabric, practically begging for the heated and dripping touch of his mouth that he’s always more than happy to bestow upon you.

His fingertips clench and relax at his sides, held back only by tremendous reserves of willpower from reaching out to map and relearn every soft, silken plane of feminine heat and temptation currently being dangled in front of him like a prize he still can’t win.

You take in the undisguised wanting and torment written large across his features with a look of utter satisfaction. Then, before he can formulate some slurred plea for relief, you spin on one heel and saunter out of his reach—hips undulating hypnotically beneath that flimsy gauze of material in an alluring farewell.

Only once you finally disappear around the corner does Nanami manage to sag forwards—palms braced on the counter as he attempts to draw steady lungfuls of air back into his oxygen-starved body.

By the time he plops back on the sofa, and opens the spine of his book, the desire to read is gone.

You take pity on him for a few weeks after that searing afternoon in the kitchen. Your outside adventures are marked by breathable athletic leggings paired with loose tank tops that drape and show you off…but in a far tamer, less flagrantly teasing way than before.

Even at home, the soft cotton shorts and tees you lounge around in provide Nanami some solace—the casual fabrics leaving just enough to the imagination rather than putting every mouth-watering curve on display.

Your usual playful flirtations also seem to be dialed back during this oasis period. As if you’re allowing the poor man a chance to realign his senses and regain some semblance of control. It allows him time to resettle back into some of his usual regimented routines. Without you on a mission at the periphery of his awareness constantly, stoking those primal fires, he finds himself able to slip back into the role of polished, tired professional and attentive partner with relative ease.

Perhaps a bit too easily, if he’s being honest with himself. Because before he can even register the transition, that fleeting grace period seems to dissolve back into the heady summer ether as quickly as it had begun.

The warm evening air smells of charcoal and citronella as Nanami moves through the crowd, trying yet failing to focus on anything but you. All around him, friends and coworkers intermingle while indulging in ice-cold drinks and delicious food fresh off the smoker. He loves food, especially Yuki's cooking when she hosts a barbecue.

But none of it registers tonight.

Because every sensory nerve-ending in his body is completely captivated and overwhelmed by the vision you make in that deep red sundress.

The rich crimson chiffon swirls and caresses over your body in sinuous waves of delicious color. You’re bathed in red, as if rose petals have unfurled and stitched themselves together to form the beautiful dress on your body. It’s a maxi dress that sweeps down to your ankles and kisses the straps of your block heels. Scorching flashes of full thighs are visible through the flowing slits on each side. The deep v-neck dips in a daring drop that leaves your sternum and the inner sides of your breasts achingly exposed.

Each step you take has the delicate material clinging and drifting in the most hypnotic dance around your heavenly form. Nanami tracks the rhythmic sway of your hips with a burning stare, his control splintering a little more with every toss of your head that allows the deep brown of your skin to wink at him from the column of your neck.

Yuki is already three wine coolers in—not a lot for most, but more than enough for her to throw decorum to the wind. From across the backyard, Choso watches with an indulgent smile as his partner bobs off-beat to the soft music flowing from the speakers.

Choso's expression of pure adoration mirrors the way Nanami looks at you when he thinks no one else is watching. They share that unspoken understanding, that bone-deep contentment of being completely enraptured by the women they love.

At one point, the music shifts, more alcohol disappears, and Yuki is hauling you to the makeshift dance floor of the backyard. Nanami tries, he really, really does. But everything about you makes him stand at attention. Breathing, walking, laughing, smiling at nothing, and now—with just one rock of your hips to the music—his eyes are locked in.

You’ve never been a good dancer. But you’ve also never cared of the expectation to be a good one either. And Yuki is an extroverted pull that makes you sway more, that makes your shoulders roll and laughter to bubble from your lips as you watch your friend make a fool of herself.

Nanami runs a hand through his thick blonde locks, disrupting the careful part he made before you both left the apartment earlier in the evening. The other hand clutches a glass of scotch a little tighter, the condensation sliding against his fingers before he takes a generous swig, his eyes not once leaving you.

You can feel him before you even look over, and when you do lock with Nanami’s deep brown gaze from across the yard, you throw him a soft look from beneath your lashes as you slowly roll your hips. It’s the same motion of your hips that he got to feel last night with you straddling him, panting against his lips in the middle of the night.

Outwardly sensual in only a way he can recognize amongst everyone around him. But it’s your rapturous, carefree expression of pure bliss that simultaneously enchants and undoes the last tattered remains of his composure. With every movement, you embody the very essence of feminine energy—raw, joyful, and utterly free. You are a vision of untamed beauty, a wild goddess of the summer night come to life in a swirling dreamscape of rich ruby chiffon.

The erotic, carnal urge to chase after your swaying, taunting form and haul you away to some shadowed corner where he can divest you of that sinful dress is overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Nanami averts his burning stare for fear of literally combusting on the spot.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yu's familiar voice cuts through the lusty fog, tinged with the warm charm of a couple beers down. “You look like you’re about to swallow your tongue or something.”

“I…excuse me,” is all Nanami can grate out, the remark feeling like fragments of glass as he speaks. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply stalking off through the open patio door and into the thankfully dim and cool interior of Yuki and Choso's home. Anything to escape your enticing presence for even a single moment.

The music and laughter from outside feels muffled as he sinks down onto the living room sofa in the shadows—rubbing distractedly at his thundering chest. But it does nothing to get rid of the vision of you dancing so wantonly and on unrestrained display in that gorgeous ruby sundress.

Where are you even getting them? Online? Or is there a store that he doesn’t know about? He hasn’t seen other women in the city wearing dresses like you do. But then again…Nanami doesn’t really pay attention unless it’s you.

His fingers grip the plush armrest of the sofa until the knuckles strain white, breath sawing harsh and ragged from his heaving lungs. Nanami squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to visualize anything other than the way that lightweight crimson had drifted and kissed over your thighs that peeked between side slits, the growing sheen of sweat between the generous canvas of your chest, the exposed slope of your neck free of curls—a spot of concealer on the side to hide the mark he gave you last night.

A harsh exhale escapes him as he forces his eyes open, only to instantly regret it. The muted sounds of the party filter in from outside—sweet laughter, the low thrum of bass, the periodic high-pitched squeal of your voice crying out at Yuki to get a hold of herself.

Nanami’s stomach clenches raggedly at that sound, arousal stroking down his spine in sweltering waves. Through the clear glass of the patio door, he can see the way your face lights up in pure rapturous joy as you give in to yourself. The subtle shifts and gyrations of your body in time with the beat, each swivel of your hips like a siren’s call.

Against his volition, imagination melds into memory, replaying the countless times he’s buried his face between your thighs and simply drank in the celestial sounds of your pleasure until his name was a breathless gasp on your lips. That shrieking cry at Yuki almost the same towards him when he licks at your sensitive nerves one too many times. He forces his gaze away, leans his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling.

The music fluctuates once more, that instantly recognizable intro to the next funky summer hit you adore cuing up. Despite the walls between you, Nanami can still acutely pick up the subtle cadence of your movements in time with that danceable rhythm. He knows the exact choreography of hips and legs that song inspires in you…and his slacks suddenly feel far too confining.

That’s when your voice cuts through the relative quiet like a bolt of lightning, somehow even closer now as you call out—half-playful chiding, half siren’s promise.

“Oh Kentooo…” The singsong inflection has his eyes squeezing shut even as his cock shamefully twitches against it’s restrictive fabric prison. “Where has my favorite salaryman gone off to hide? You know I can’t dance without my partner watching me.”

Gritting his teeth against the dark, full-bodied groan that tries to escape, Nanami hunches forward until his elbows are digging into his thighs. There you stand framed in the patio door, backlit in a devastating silhouette by the lantern lights emanating through the loud yard behind you.

You walk closer in that torturous dress, the double layers trailing languidly behind in currents of fabric that have his throat struggling to swallow. Your stunning frame is practically dripping in sensual confidence and self-assured power. He knows the power you have over him and would sooner swallow his favorite tie than give that up.

The rich carmine floats around you in sinuous waves as you sashay closer to where Nanami sits transfixed on the sofa. And with each step, all manners and decorum that have been taught to him fizzle away with the increasing ache in his jeans.

“Like what you see?” you murmur huskily once you’ve prowled to stand between his legs, allowing Nanami an unfettered view of your neckline, the long gold necklace between your breasts winking at him with each shallow intake of breath. You lift one leg to press a knee onto his powerful thigh—close enough for your perfume to slide down his nostrils and cloud his mind. The slit over your bent knee flutters open in an obscene gap, granting his hooded gaze a glimpse of skin his teeth ache to bite into.

“I asked,” you breathe out in a seductive timbre, near enough for Nanami to actually taste the addictive warmth of your presence on his tongue. “If you like what you see…”

The inhale that rattles through his powerful frame is involuntary. So is the compulsive way his fingertips suddenly flex against the cushion with the overwhelming urge to finally reacquaint himself with the soft temptation of your skin. Others be damned, mannerisms of being a respectful guest falling to the wayside.

Somewhere through the rapidly thickening haze of pure liquid arousal, Nanami manages a jerky nod—unable to summon even the most basic of syllables in response. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as you arch one delicious eyebrow in a silent challenge. With your beautiful curls pulled up into a high ponytail, he can see the slope of your ears that are adorned with the gold hoops he bought you last month.

Then, before he can gather enough of his scattered wits to chastise you for your behavior, you’re boldly reaching out and capturing one of his clenching fists in a firm grip. A soft grunt rattles up from deep in Nanami’s chest at the heated feel of your palm finally making purchase on his overheated skin.

But his breath hitches in a harsh inhale as you purposefully guide his splayed fingers towards your exposed leg—sliding his hand up excruciatingly slow to caress along the landscape of textures and planes laid out in offering. He expects the generous hem of panties he’s seen time and time again. He knows what they look like in his mind when he teases the edges before slipping inside to graze his fingers along your aching clit. But the calloused pads of his fingertips brush the thin string of a thong instead. And it’s just a single touch that has him wide-eyed, reeling—the edges of his vision dizzying into a hazy fog of aching, inexplicable need.

You should have come with a manual. Surely there’s a guide to get through the summer months with you? Some sort of text to explain the steps he needs to take to keep himself in control in public?

The rapturous throb of your saphenous vein leaps against his fingertips as you allow him to slant just a hairsbreadth further—close enough to feel the heat of the place he’s been countless times before—close enough to slide a thick finger along fabric he knows is wet.

Only for you to tear your hand away and drop your knee as the sound of Yuki's voice pierces the heavy sensual tension hanging between your bodies.

“There you are!” She calls out cheerfully from the sliding glass door. “My song is on, come dance with me!”

There’s a gentle tuft of laughter from you then—one tinged with dark satisfaction as you drink in the wrecked, wanton expression flaming across Nanami’s features. As if thoroughly enjoying reducing him to this strung-out state of desperation. You could rule the world if given the right resources.

“Yuki, let’s get you some water. You’ve had a little too much to drink…” your voice trails off as you disappear in a rustle of vermilion and sashaying hips with one last loaded look over your bare shoulder.

He manages a shuddering breath that feels more like sandpaper sliding down his abused lungs. The delicious scent of your perfume still clings to the charged air around him, the phantom-like caress of your dress along his knuckles, the sound of your throaty laugh disappearing back to the party outside. Each ragged exhale has his body subtly canting forward, giving silent chase to your retreating form as if by muscle memory alone.

This game…this deliciously maddening game you delight in playing has Nanami’s entire being teetering on the razor-thin edge of unraveling completely. Each new summer ensemble seems specifically designed to further tempt and destroy the decades of discipline he’s meticulously cultivated since he was a teenager.

Nanami would think after a relationship or two, he would have steeled himself against falling victim to seduction. And yet, not a single woman from his past could have prepared Nanami for the devastating combination of your radiant beauty and barely-restrained hedonism.

Your laughter calls out to him again, his eyes snapping up to see you smiling as Yuki chugs the glass of water Choso has pressed to her lips. Completely innocent and free of devilish qualities, the fact that Nanami knows that dark side of you makes him fold his arms across his chest, sagging against the sofa and glaring at your form as he wills his erection to go down.

It’s two days before summer’s end when Nanami feels the steadily fraying threads of his self-control finally unravel into oblivion. He’s tried every possible tactic these last few months to stave off the relentless fire of desire you’ve been stoking within him—going for runs, ice cold showers, avoiding you when possible. He’s even resorted to having you model your newest sundress purchases at home in a desperate attempt at desensitizing himself. It all seems incredibly dramatic, but Nanami has no idea what else to do. Nothing has worked against the intoxicating mix of your lively beauty and increasingly bold choices designed to torment him until he’s six feet under.

He had known from the moment he accidentally stumbled upon that fateful periwinkle dress sitting in your laptop’s shopping cart that it would be his undoing. He can still picture with perfect clarity the way the model seemed to shimmer and dance on the screen as he clicked through the product imagery—he pictured it with heart throbbing clarity how it would look on you.

And he still has so many more years left of his life to enjoy.

Without conscious thought, Nanami had swiftly removed the item from the cart—an invasion of privacy that left him nauseous, but a necessary decision if only to spare himself.

He was stupid to think it would actually work.

So it comes as little surprise to see you boldly flaunting that silken number tonight at the rooftop gala marking his company’s most prosperous quarter yet. The twinkling strings of lantern bulbs and hot summer breezes swirling all around you only heighten the flagging warning that this night won’t end the way he wants.

As you glide about the rooftop, the pale periwinkle seems to float effortlessly around your body. Like every dress before, this one is no exception, complimenting the deepness of your skin. The whisper-weight fabric lays against your hips and waist, simultaneously shaping and gracefully draping in all the right places.

The thin straps crisscross behind your neck, framing your graceful shoulders and collarbones. As you turn, the silk lifts and drifts around you in a mesmerizing swirl of decadence. It’s another plunging V-neckline, but this dress sits on your body and decolletage with an air of romantic grace. It’s not scandalous like that night at Yuki and Choso's.

But it’s the back—oh it’s the back that makes his gaze heavy, that makes the organ in his chest beat out of rhythm with every inch he uncovers. Try as he might, it’s absolutely impossible for him to look away from the delicate contours and valleys of your body put on full and enthralling display by this backless dress. From the elegant lines of your throat and shoulders left teasingly bare to the soft inward curve of your arched lower back—the dress is a cruel temptation showcasing every salivating inch of you that he’s spent countless nights worshiping.

It’s beautiful on you, truly and unimaginably beautiful, and it’s a terrible twist of fate that such a simple observation is destroying Nanami from the inside. All that discipline—the cold showers, the extra miles added to his runs, the attempts of desensitization—it’s useless. No matter how hard he tries, he will always notice something new each time he looks at you. And it will always wreck him and throw him off axis whether he likes it or not.

Because amidst all the warmth and sociability of this rooftop celebration, all Nanami’s rapidly sharpening focus can zero in on is the subtle glisten of perspiration trailing down the slope of your spine. Every imperceptible turn and cock of your hip amplified tenfold by the silk that gets to touch you while he watches. As if personally daring him to finally surrender every last shred of patience and simply take what he wants.

A soft chuckle escapes your full lips as Nanami’s boss leans in closer, undoubtedly regaling you with some far from amusing anecdote from the office. The charming sound has every thread of Nanami’s control taut like a bowstring. Because that sound means a lot for him nowadays—laughing at his dry humor, the movies you both watch together, the giggling stuttering into whimpers and moans of ecstasy when your back arches from his tongue.

Suddenly, the light summer breeze kicks up in and swirls around you, waving the hem of your dress and the two-day old twistout on your head. Instinctively, you reach up to tuck a lock of those dark silken twists behind one ear.

Time itself seems to slow as he watches those inky tendrils ghost across your bare shoulders and the exposed skin of your upper back. Nanami watches with visceral hunger as those wild strands make playful, meandering paths across the smoothly toned expanse of brown skin. His entire body instantaneously flushes with hot need and arousal at the simple, harmless image. The soft rise of your breasts shake as you offer a fake laugh to whatever drivel your boss has just said. And in that split second—the culmination of tonight, this dress, the entire summer of taunting and coy smiles— Nanami’s restraint finally shatters into so many useless slivers at his feet.

Before conscious thought can override anything else, he’s stalking across the rooftop with rigid, predatory intensity—adjusting the unique glasses on his nose, his mouth set in a grim line of single-minded focus. The gaggle of chattering coworkers and small-talk banter all fade away into muted static and white noise. All that exists in this heated vortex of Nanami’s rapidly narrowing universe is the coiling pull of you.

“Ah, Nanami!” His boss greets heartily, clearly surprised yet pleased to see the company’s best worker at last. “Your partner and I were just discussing a better way to spruce up the quarterly party for next year. Care to weigh in, my friend?”

The question lands on deaf ears. Because at the exact same instant his professional mentor is extending that olive branch of attempted small talk…your eyes are on his, a knowing, small smile pressed to the hem of your champagne glass as you take a sip. The sight of your jewelry, the fabric against your skin, the way you look at him…the desire that rips through his body is staggering.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you,” he grates out in a tone heavy with gravel and masculine focus. His palm finds the smoldering heat of your lower back without conscious thought, marking delirious patterns of desire against your naked skin. Your eyebrows furrow with a silent question at the rough timbre of his command…even though you see that undisguised storm of hunger and frustrated desire raging behind his tinted glasses.

“Of course,” you finally murmur and turn to his coworkers to wish them goodbye, setting down your glass on the table beside you.

He’s burning, raging with a fever that doesn’t even exist and each shallow inhale draws more of your achingly familiar perfume into his senses—only making things worse.

He guides you through the crowded rooftop party and towards the elevators with a molten intensity bordering on feral. Nanami’s palm maps possessive into the searing expanse of your back. Every step jostles his arm flush against the silk on your frame.

“Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

The rich, seductive rasp of your voice is designed to torture him further, but Nanami doesn’t rise to it, simply presses fingers more firm to your back, his other punches the elevator button with purpose.

“I said I need to speak with you,” he finally bites out. “That should be more than enough.”

You lean further into his touch and look up at him, your tongue darts out to toy with your plush bottom lip in a show of faux innocence.

“Is that so?” The melodic lilt coupled with the ghost of your warm breath fanning across Nanami’s jaw would have been enough to make a lesser man’s knees buckle entirely. Instead, it simply ratchets the tension coiling through his powerful frame into a downright maddening degree.

The soft chime of the arriving elevator makes you both turn in tandem, the mirror of the elevator doors casting your reflections—allowing Nanami to drink in the smoldering fire already blazing behind your heavy-lidded stare. There’s profound hunger glimmering there that matches his own. An unadulterated wildness reined in by the thinnest veneer of coy indifference. You’ve always been slick—but not tonight.

The mirrored doors slide open with a hushed mechanical shush, you both step inside, and the doors slide closed.

Nanami offers a silent apology for the violation of manners his parents instilled in him before he backs you into the far wall—the breath punching out of your lungs as your back makes shocking contact with the mirrored paneling. Now it’s you breathless, struggling to compose yourself as the masculine power of Nanami consumes you.

A subtle shudder ripples through Nanami’s abdomen as you wantonly tilt your head back, arching your throat in wordless invitation just as your fingertips rise to trail heated lines over his heaving chest. The lapels are black as midnight, the undershirt a crisp white, and he’s the handsome man that’s all yours even as he fights between what’s right and what he wants. One of his palms is cupping the slope of your jawline as the other maps out the silk of your dress. He bends slowly until the heat of his mouth is tracing the full curve of your parted lips—a heavy brush of sculpted male confidence against your teasing softness.

“You’ve pressed against my boundaries to a criminal degree, love,” Nanami warns in a dark rasp scorched with the first cinders of the firestorm yet to come. His palm slides up the bare inward curve of your back until his fingers are tunneling through the wild riot of your twistout at the nape of your neck. Tinted eyes slit in satisfaction as your head tips back farther on a shaky inhale—granting him access to the deliciously vulnerable length of your throat.

“Nothing to say?” he husks out in the open, admiring the flutter of your lashes as his voice hits you. Nanami’s mouth brands a hot trail from the sensitive juncture of your jaw up towards the shell of your ear. You whimper softly at the slow, torturous build—the same sound of rapture he has memorized and pulled from you countless times between the sheets. It’s enough to strip away any lingering reservations entirely.

With the strength he’s never ashamed to show you, hands slide under your thighs and he yanks you up. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, your arms winding around his neck, your head tilting back again to smack on the mirrored glass.

His tongue glides along the buttery curve of your throat, tasting the familiar tang of salt and vanilla on the tip and the smell of him, of pure Nanami clouds your mind enough to finally look down at him, your noses a hairsbreadth from each other. It’s a silent standoff, your eyes as teasing as they are filled with arousal, his eyes dark with something that makes you shiver against him.

And then he’s kissing you, deep and hungry, his hands roaming the bare expanse of your back, dipping lower, pulling you closer. You melt into Nanami’s kiss, your initial surprise giving way to a matching hunger. Your hands slip under his suit jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting your nerves, thrumming in your veins.

You don’t even hear the elevator doors open but you feel him walking, lips hot and demanding groaning into you as you slide your fingers into his golden locks and pull. Nanami knows these floors like the back of his hand, and he’s familiar with the abandoned break room on the thirtieth floor, his hand yanking the door open and shutting it hard, lips never leaving yours.

You gasp into his mouth when your ass lands on the old buttons of a copier, the machine groaning under your weight, the plastic buttons beeping in protest. As Nanami presses you against the copier, he can’t help but marvel at the feel of you beneath his hands. The dress, this damn dress, is like water under his fingers, smooth and cool and entirely too thin. He can feel every curve, every contour, every shuddering breath you take.

He punctuates his actions with a roll of his hips, pressing his hardness that strains against his slacks against your core. You moan, your head falling back, and he takes advantage of your exposed neck, his lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin, his tongue licking the marks he leaves.

“How many more dresses do you have?” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need. “How many more ways are you going to torture me?”

You gasp as his teeth graze your pulse point, your fingers threading into his hair. “T-that depends,” you manage, your voice breathy. Nanami’s chuckle is dark, dangerous, his hands trailing higher, dipping into the seam of your panties, his fingers brushing over your clit. He savors the way your jerk against him, a whimper leaving your throat as you pant into the dusty air.

“Is this what you wanted? To reduce me to this? A man so desperate for you he’d take you in a public place?”

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into his touch, your breasts pressing against the thin silk that covers them. “Yesyesyes...”

Nanami’s groan is part frustration, part desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.” There’s a hint of wonder in his voice, a note of awe at the depth of his own need. His fingers press more insistently, circling, gathering your slick to make each stroke more messy and impactful, driving you towards the edge. The buttons of the copier dig into your skin, the machine whirring and beeping beneath you, adding to the crescendo of sensation. He can hear the mechanical shuffle of papers being chucked out from one end, slapping onto the floor.

“Do you like this?” Nanami pants, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you like teasing me, driving me crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit, free of shame, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kento.”

He slides two fingers into your wet heat, savoring your wanton gasp, increases the pressure, the speed of his fingers, pushing you closer to the precipice. “Have you done this before?” he asks, his voice raw with emotion. “Teased other men like this, made them want you so badly they’d forget themselves?”

“No,” you moan desperately, your head thrashing from side to side, deep locks brushing your cheeks. “Never. It’s only ever been you, Kento. Only you.”

“Say it again,” he demands, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Only you,” you pant. “I’m yours, Kento. Completely.”

It doesn’t take long—countless strokes inside of you, a curl of his fingers, a twist of his wrist, and you shatter. Your cry of pleasure mixes with the beeps and groans of the copier, your body shaking, your fingers digging harder into Nanami’s shoulders that he’s sure you’ve broken the barrier.

He holds you through it, his lips on your skin, his murmured praises in your ear, soft litanies of words that has made you fall deeper in love with him each passing day. You don’t get a chance to come down fully because he’s on you again, pressing closer, pushing your panties to the side and digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. But the angle is wrong, you’re too high and the copier digs into his thighs and impedes him from getting to you the way he wants.

With a grunt of frustration, Nanami lifts you off the machine. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the conference table. He sweeps aside the accumulated debris with one arm, sending sugar and tea packets scattering to the floor. Your back hits the table, the hard surface unyielding beneath you. Plastic cups crunches and snaps under your weight, sugar and coffee creamer powder puffing into the air, settling on your heated skin.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, soaking in the radiance you beam up at him, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Pulling you away from everyone, getting my hands on you…not being able to do it because I’m better than that.”

You moan as he nips at your collarbone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “And yet here you are,” you tease, breathless with twinkling eyes that shine right through him.

He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and demanding. You arch into him, your hands throwing off his glasses—they smack against a wall—your fingers deftly undoing his tie, working on the buttons of his shirt. You need to feel his skin against yours, need to be closer, and he shudders at the feel of your warm hands breaching the open buttons, sliding up his bare chest.

As if reading your mind, Nanami reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. The fabric parts, baring more of your skin to his heated gaze. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming your body like a physical caress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his hands are on you, tracing your curves, fingers brushing your nipples before he gives them a pinch. A whimper shakes from you, your fingers pressing into his bare chest.

Dimly, he’s aware that he should stop this, that he’s in a public place, at a work event. But the heat of your body, the insistence of your touch, the mounting pleasure coursing through his veins—it all conspires to drown out reason.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your fingers shaking with need. He helps you, impatiently pushing his pants and boxers down just enough. And then he’s touching you, his fingers digging into your hips, sliding you closer to him until the tip of him presses to the sopping wet heat of your center, wet from your orgasm and still ready.

“Please,” you whimper, hardly recognizing your own voice. “Please, Kento…”pushing your dress further up your hips, trailing over your ribs, cupping your breasts until the skin spills between the gaps. His eyes widen at the sight, the base of his spine heating up. So many times he’s seen you like this in the privacy of your home, and now it’s in an old break room at his workplace, the consequence of you finally taking things too far.

He’s free of any feral energy as he kisses you, sliding into your welcoming heat slowly to acquaint himself again. Your fingers dig into his skin, your chest pressing into him as you adjust, the table creaking under your joined weight as you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your silver heels into his back. Soon he’s moving above you, within you, each thrust pushing you higher, each thrust fanning the fire within himself.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, begging again for the unspoken demand of more. And even though the roles are reversed right now—you the one being teased—he gives you whatever you ask.

He sets a pace that’s just shy of punishing, each snap of his hips brushing his zipper against the inside of your thighs. The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slap of skin on skin, your gasps and moans, his grunts into the air. He cannot believe he’s in this moment, doing something so scandalous.

“You reduce me to this,” he pants against your lips. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you gasp, your hands pulling at open lapels of his shirt, squeezing around the buttons, the fabric groaning. “I’m sorry.”

But you’re not, he can tell. There’s a hint of satisfaction in your voice, a touch of pride. And why shouldn’t there be? You’ve brought him, the ever-controlled Nanami Kento, to his knees. He loves you too much to ever want anything different.

“I’m a good man,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, curving his next thrust that he knows will brush against that spot you like.

“You’re an amazing man, Ken,” you moan in surprise, your hips lifting to meet his to seek more. “The best. Only the best for me. Only you, Kento.”

The praise makes him shake, the fire in his body raging like an inferno, burning his skin, breaking him into a sweat. He presses a knee into the table, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and savors the ragged way your name leaves his lips as he gives you everything.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his tongue licking the skin of your neck. He tastes the saltiness of your sweat, the sanitizing taste of perfume, the powdered creamer and sugar that sticks to your skin from the table. “So perfect.”

“Come on, Kento” you keen, your nails raking down the suit on his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He’s lost in you, in the feel of you, in the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Wanton, needy, completely undone.

Nothing else matters—not the party going on just floors above, not the risk of discovery, not the propriety you’re both abandoning. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the heat that’s consumed you both all summer, finally finding release.

Nanami’s thrusts become erratic, his rhythm faltering as the base of his spine tightens in a delicious way to let him know that he’s close. His hand slips between your bodies, past the silk of your rumpled periwinkle dress, gliding over your clit in well-practiced strokes and the leg over his shoulder tenses up, your head digging into the table, neck arching for him to see the flecks of sugar sticking to your neck.

“Ohhh right there Kento. Right there. Please, please I’m gonna cum—I’m—“ you smack a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, eyes shutting tight.

“Absolutely not.” Nanami hasn’t suffered for months just to be deprived of anything during this encounter. He yanks the hand from your mouth, pressing it hard into the table, and the shock on your face as you look up at him, the staccato of your breaths, the undeniable seriousness in his gaze even as he pistons into you, admiring the way your dress pools at your waist as he gives you more, harder, deeper until—

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cum with a long dragged out cry, your body clenching around him, walls locking around his cock to the point his orgasm is yanked from him as he falls over the edge with you, pulsing deep inside with a groan muffled against your neck.

He sags against you, both of your chests heaving against each other. He slips a hand behind you, trailing lightly up and down your glistening back as you lie beneath him, spent and satisfied.

As he slowly comes down, he presses a lingering kiss to your sweat-dampened hairline, the roots of your twistout beginning to frizz. There’s a hint of coconut from your leave-in as his nose brushes down to your cheek. So familiar, yet still so intoxicating after almost a year of smelling it. As if he could ever grow numb to the potent lure of your presence.

A ragged chuckle escapes him at that thought, the mirthful rumble making you pull up your head to look at him. Nanami drinks in the utterly debauched vision you make—beautiful brown sweaty skin, hair messy, lips swollen and smirking as per usual.

His arm tightens reflexively around the sensual curves of your waist, pulling you closer in a subconscious gesture of possession and longing. Because for all the delicious torture you’ve inflicted over the past few months with your endless parade of tempting summer dresses…he wouldn’t trade this hard-won moment for anything.

Nanami is many things—disciplined, regimented, a hardworking—albeit tired— professional. But he is also only human at his core. And you, his beautiful free-spirit of a partner, has a simply breathtaking talent for awaking the primal, unrestrained parts of him he usually keeps so rigorously leashed.

“You know,” you murmur in that velvety voice he loves so much. “The minute I realized the dress vanished from my cart was the minute I knew it would be the one.”

A sleepy chuckle breaks free from his lips at your words, the sound causing you to join in as well—a vibrant melody that coats his soul in pure contentment. Nosing closer, he peppers a line of feather light kisses along the line of your jaw. “You’ll never go easy on me, will you?”

“And rob myself of bringing down Nanami Kento piece by piece?” You snort, shooting him a look of pure, playful sin from beneath your lashes. “I might have to make sundress season a year-round thing.”

His answering groan is part growl, part disbelieving laughter as the palm behind your back glides along the elegant curve of your spine down to the bend of your hip. Ever the devilish temptress without even trying, even in the aftermath.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s a good way to go,” you tease, pulling him down for another kiss, sweet and sticky and full of promise.

His hands slide along the canvas of your body, fingers dipping into the ridges of the open zipper of your dress. He’ll make sure it’s dry cleaned so you can wear it next year. And hopefully he’ll be better prepared.

When you giggle against his lips and dig your heels into his back, he realizes that there will be no amount of preparation when it comes to you.

Thanks for reading!

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pomefioredove · 7 months ago

Note

Reader saying ”Let me distract you” to an overworked Jamil PLEASEEEEE I want to see that man WHIMPER. I want to see him BLUSH, I WANT TO SEE HIM BEG. Slamming fists on table rn I love that man sm he works too hard FR 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Gender neutral reader, please, by the way! Please and thank you :])

JAMIL POST!! I got u

summary: "let me distract you" type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, established relationship, short and sweet

Jamil is always tired.

That's one thing that never seems to change about him.

You've been dating the boy for months now, and known him even longer, and you have never seen him without dark circles.

The other thing that never seems to change about him, is that he can never admit it.

"Come on, just five minutes?"

You've been pestering him for hours now, hoping he'll take a break.

He's been working from dawn til dusk. You're not even sure if he slept at all last night.

"No," Jamil says again. It seems to be his favorite word today.

"I'm falling behind again. If I don't have this turned in by Tuesday, I..."

He begins to nod off before snapping back and sitting up straight.

You get up and stand behind him, putting your arms over his shoulders, your voice full of sympathy.

"Jamil, come on. You can't focus like this. Let me distract you,"

He relaxes at the touch, then sighs.

"You're... right. I won't get anything done at this rate. Five minutes,"

He finally joins you in bed, subtly leaning against your shoulder, his eyes open and avoiding yours.

It takes all of two minutes for him to fall asleep.

You adjust, helping him into a more comfortable position with his head in your lap. His sleeping self instinctively curls up to you.

Five minutes turns into fifteen, which turns into thirty, to an hour, and eventually you can't seem to keep your head up, either.

The morning is mild and bright.

When you wake up to the sound of birds and the feeling of warm sunshine on your body, he's back at his desk, tapping his pencil against paper.

Jamil hears you stirring and turns.

"Almost done?" you ask, yawning.

He glances between the paper and you. Though, instead of answering your question, he just smiles.

"Thank you,"

He gets up, tucks you back into bed with a kiss, and whispers.

"Rest. I'll join you in just a minute,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #queued

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erwinsvow · 8 months ago

Text

rafe looks even cuter when he's asleep.

you don't know how the thought has never crossed your mind up until now—it's so alarmingly obvious to you right now. you stare—a bit stalkerish, even for you—but that doesn't deter you at all. you watch his chest rise and fall with each breath, the way he's completely crazy, sleeping firm on his back with one arm on your waist and the other tucked behind his head.

maybe rafe seems even cuter just because he's escaping all the stress of his real life right now—firmly asleep with hopefully nothing but nice dreams about you. and as much as you try to avoid it, you are the primary cause of all of rafe's stress. he worries about you from dawn to dusk, even when you try to convince him there's nothing to be worried about.

it's become something of a habit for him—taking care of you, making sure you're okay, even when he's not around. and you—well, you've gotten quite reliant on it. on him. you're not positive—but you think rafe likes it.

even now, on the verge of waking him up because you can't sleep, you hope he doesn't get mad. it doesn't stop you though.

"rafe," you whisper, pushing his arm softly, and then a little harder. "rafe. rafe."

he groans, eyes still shut. the third push has him blinking, staring up at the ceiling and getting his bearings.

"what time is it?" he slurs, clearly still half-asleep. "still dark, kid, go back to bed-"

"i can't sleep," you say a little too quickly, your restlessness presenting itself quite clearly. "please. i don't know why. i'm scared."

rafe closes his eyes, but then opens again, no matter how hard it is to stay awake right now. he sits up a little, propping his back against his headboard. when he turns to look at you, he doesn't feel so tired anymore.

you look really awake, like you haven't had an ounce of rest since the two of you went to bed hours ago. fiddling with the straps of your nightgown, you look up at him the way you always do—like rafe can solve any one of your problems in a minute.

and he likes it. rafe doesn't even try and hide it anymore—he loves it and loves that about you.

"what're you scared of, huh?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep. you breath in and out, trying to figure out how to explain.

"i dunno. i just am."

"okay," rafe says quietly. he closes his eyes for a few moments and then opens again. your lips curl into a pout automatically—you feel bad for waking him up. "how can i help?"

"i don't know that either. i just want to feel close to you."

"m'right here, kid-" rafe extends an arm around you, bringing you into his chest. you curl up against him like you always do, breathing in the scent of his skin and the warmth from where his hand rubs your back. but it's still not enough.

"i want to be even closer," you murmur, feeling a little more tired but not nearly enough to actually fall asleep.

"how d'you suppose i do that, hm?" you look up at your boyfriend—cuter still with his eyes closed like this.

"can't you just.." feeling surprisingly bold—probably from how wired yet exhausted you currently are—you sneak a hand over rafe's pajama shots, pressing your hand down until-

"jesus, kid. gimme some warning, huh-"

"what? you said you're 'never too tired for that', remember?"

"well, i lied. c'mon baby, just go to bed, i'll fuck you first thing in the morning."

"hmpf," you scoff, turning around and taking much of rafe's comforter with you. you don't have to see rafe to know what's going on—he's rolling his eyes and sitting up, probably has his head in his hands for a moment.

"jesus, kid. you're gonna kill me. c'mere," rafe says, turning you back around to face him with just one hand. your body flops next to him, staring up at rafe, seeing what he'll do next.

"we don't have to do it," you finally say, watching rafe move around in the sheets for a few moments. "can't you just... put it inside?"

"sure i can. c'mon," he says, and you climb onto rafe's lap as swiftly as you can. it doesn't take much—he slides up your nightie with one hand and pulls down his shorts with the other. you feel rafe prodding at your tight hole when he grabs at your tits, letting the skirt of your sleepwear fall back down.

"you just said-" rafe cuts you off.

"still gotta wake him up, remember?" you roll your eyes but they end up rolling all the way back. rafe slides in quickly—you almost fall onto his chest at the feeling.

incredibly full, realizing this is exactly what you needed, you let yourself curl back up against him. rafe's saying something quietly to you, one of his hands firm on your ass and the other on your back, but you can't even hear him.

"thank you rafey," you murmur, interrupting him without even realizing. "this is what i needed." rafe presses a kiss to your hair and you fall asleep before you even hear him whisper back.

#i love them #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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auroras-zenith · 2 months ago

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what doesn't kill you // part 7

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"Put the new vinyls out?"

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pen from the desk and throwing it at your coworker. "You're so lazy."

"Please?" He groaned, his purple hair falling out of sight as he threw his head back. "I'm fuckin' tired."

"Shinso, you just came back from a week long vacation." You smiled murderously, eye quite possibly twitching.

The huff he gave you was epically loud.

"I'm getting used to being back." He shrugged.

The groan you returned was even louder.

"This is the last time I'm doing your job." You insisted indignantly, snatching the stack of vinyls from his arms and pushing him out of the way.

He gave a lazy, smug grin, tailing you to the front of the store. "You're in a good mood."

You ignored him, not denying the accusation.

"Am I invited to dinner?"

"Why would you be?" You worked as you talked, carefully arranging the display case to be visually pleasing.

"Because they're my friends too, and you didn't let me over the last time they visited?"

You scoffed. "You can see them when they come to visit you."

It was his turn to throw a pen at your back. "They're here to visit both of us, bitch."

"Tell that to the door that's going to be locking you out of my house!" You tease, laughing as you duck the arms that came to choke you. "I'm just saying! They're not having dinner with you, are they?"

He caught you this time as you came back up, a grin plastered all over your face. "You're horrible."

"What's horrible is trying to strangle me when I'm doing your work!" His hands gripped you by the shoulders, turning you round to face him.

"Invite me to dinner." He insisted, staring you indignantly in the eyes.

His warm breath fanned across your face.

Were his eyes always so purple?

You ripped away from his grasp, busying yourself picking up the vinyls that had fallen to the floor while your face burned. "You're impossible."

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his broad shoulders easily rose than fell in a shrug. How was he so unbothered?

"Jesus christ–you're invited, Shinso. Of course you are, moron."

He nodded. "Thanks." A warm hand reached out, patting the top of your head. "That's all I needed, I'll finish the rest. You go do what you have to do prepare."

You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding. Having the only two people you had left from your past life over was kind of a big thing, you supposed.

"Yeah, alright. Thanks Shin."

The stack of dusty vinyls were lifted easily out of your arms as you grabbed your things, the bell on the door ringing delicately as you slipped out.

It was a quiet day in town today–not that the other days here were much different.

That had been the hardest part to adjust to for you.

Everything about your new life was quiet–when your old life was anything but. You had lived in the heart of Musutafu where a day without sirens blaring was one for the history books and there were practically more people than blades of grass.

And your best friend.

Boy was he ever noisy. Harsh words grating your ears every waking moment from dusk to dawn, waking you up in the mornings and staying through the nights.

It was different here.

The streets stayed a respectful quiet, and even the bustle that came with the midday rush hour was a calm one. Your home was for one instead of two, and the mug reserved only for Bakugo remained unused in the back of your cabinet.

Your footsteps were mindless and quiet as you stared at your shoes.

Shinso had helped a lot. He knew your story. He had a similar one himself. He hadn't been disabled–for him, leaving was a choice.

Still, he understood the odd, empty feeling that came with your newfound free time. And to compensate, he helped you fill it. In all that the world threw at you, the man plagued by eye bags was probably the best thing to come out of it.

Not that it was coincidence, of course. Kaminari and Jirou had figured you'd need a friend through this and had reached out to Shinso to see if he'd mind sharing his quaint little town with you.

He took up a lot of what Bakugo used to do for you.

He'd fix the one annoying smoke alarm that wouldn't stop beeping, swing by occasionally with a bag of groceries and take your shifts every once in a while.

And when he saw you losing yourself in the storm of your past, he'd be there. Show up at your door, three in the morning, drenched in the rain with his switch in hand.

He kept you anchored in the hurricane of your feelings.

Which was exactly why you couldn't lose him.

Not like you had lost your last best friend, and certainly not to some stupid, childish feelings.

The two of you were friends–absolutely nothing else.

a/n: a little bit of fluffy filler as you get to know your new home <3

taglist: @floverisland @biancatomlinson @rosaryia @highlandhyena @sarashu @rednicotine @emmaiscool22 @your-mum3000 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @sikuthealien @thefirst-ofus @harryzcherry @xoxoblueyy @moonz33 @lotusstarr @dragonscribble @3ve88 @thatgrlnany @shortie-chocolate @astolary @dreamybabbyy @ditzy-kie

permanent tags: @phtmmsqrde @pikachuzhc @stabbygabyy @frosted-flakes @didibanini

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thesunisatangerine · 1 year ago

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playing for keeps – chapter one

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

status: ongoing

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three, four]

word count: 2.9k

The darkness lurched and a sensation of falling brought you back to your senses. There was a momentary confusion–as was the case after leaving the half-conscious state–but it didn’t take you long to piece the world back together. A shudder disturbed the panel beneath your feet and you felt the running tremor that followed accompanied by a low rumble you could barely hear through the stressing pressure in your ears. You blinked your eyes open and there was a rawness to them that made you squint, taking in a familiar scene that greeted you past the window as you did.

A deep purple tint veiled the brilliance of the sun, casting the world into the cool calm of dusk, as the remainder of the day streaked the horizon with its fading light. You recognised the sloping silhouettes of the mountains that stood tall in the distance, seeming all the more greater against the early evening sky, comfortingly familiar and inviting in their grand stillness.

The intercom played a three-tone melody followed by a voice that filtered through the static.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Barcelona. The local time is six hours ahead of the Newark area, and it is currently approaching six in the evening. Please remain seated with your seatbelts on until the ‘Fasten Seatbelt’ sign has been switched off. It has been our pleasure to serve you on this flight. Thank you, and a very good evening.”

In the moments that followed, chatter erupted all around you. Tearing your gaze away from the window, finally, you unbuckled your seatbelt but made no move to get up, opting instead to rest your cheek on your hand.

The thing that made window seats great–apart from the view, of course–was the fact that people who were in no rush to get off the plane wouldn’t feel compelled to move to avoid obstructing other passengers. And you, who was normally eager to stretch your legs after a particularly long flight such as this one, very much needed another moment to gather yourself. So you watched on as the other passengers stood and shuffled about, opening and closing the overhead bins to retrieve their luggage.

A restlessness crept over you. It erupted from somewhere deep down your gut to your limbs, and the feeling had you longing to jump out of your seat–to run–but you stayed put. There you waited, drumming a rhythm with your fingers against your thigh as your other leg bounced to the same chaotic pace. And without any bidding, the scenes you’d thought of before you sank into the nap you’d just woken up from flashed through your mind, relentless in their effort to tear you apart again.

You craned your neck to the side to see through the window. Somewhere at the far side of the airport, a yellow light flashed from a parked plane. It reminded you of fireflies and–

No.

You halted the memory and instead resorted to counting the number of times it blinked to keep your mind occupied.

“Excuse me, is everything okay?”

You blinked.

Turning away from the window to the direction of the voice, you saw an attendant looking at you with a curious expression.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

Behind her you noticed that all of the seats were empty, and probably for quite some time now, so you gave her a quick apology when you stood to gather your belongings. You began for the exit after closing the overhead cabin but the stewardess stopped you again with another question.

“You’re a professional footballer?”

You looked at her over your shoulder. Your surprise at her question must have been clear on your face because she looked down at your duffel bag and then back at you with just a hint of amusement by the way her brow was lifted.

Oh. You forgot about that.

You hefted your Barça bag over your shoulder as you replied, “Uh, yeah. Are you much of a fan?”

“I love it. Love watching and playing it whenever I can. I’m more of a Madridista, though.”

“Oh. That’s a shame.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at your dry humor but without any hint of offense.

The both of you continued to the exit.

“What position do you play?”

“Keeper.”

“Very cute. How long have you been playing for Barça?”

“I’m just newly transferred, actually.”

By this point, the both of you had arrived at the plane’s open door.

“Oh, really? Well, I wish you all the best for your season. And I hope this doesn’t come across as unprofessional but is it okay if I asked you for a picture?”

“Thank you. And no, not at all.”

After you posed for the photo, she thanked you. You felt her fingers brush over yours as she took back her phone before she sent you a playful wink. Her beauty attracted you, yes, and years ago such blatant advances from a fine woman would’ve been received warmly by you but not anymore–especially not today. So instead, you gave her a polite, almost apologetic, nod and parted ways with a small smile as you shuffled out of the plane.

It was a haze, your journey through the gates, the baggage reclaim zone, and the checkpoints. The lights and images melted together in one big blur, the noises coalesced to a low drone, before the world focused again when your phone screen lit up.

‘I’m in the arrival hall,’ it said.

Despite yourself, your heartbeat picked up upon seeing it and a familiar restlessness made you shiver. You shook your head, rolling your luggage towards the arrival hall, tapping your thumb against the handle of your roller, the strap of your duffel bag clutched tightly in your other hand.

With every step, your heart jumped in anticipation.

You turned the corner and your chest stilled.

And at the sight you beheld, you were gone. It was like you were seventeen all over again.

To you, it was as if the world became brighter, the colors and shapes now sharper, and she was the light that made everything that much clearer.

A thought rang clear in your mind, Oh, god, she’s right there. And she’s so beautiful.

She was leaning back against one of the columns that lined the terminal, the darkness of her outfit a stark contrast against the white paint which made her all the more easier to spot. Her eyes were trained on her phone as she tapped away at it with a small, soft smile adorning her face; that, for some reason, made your heart ache. A few locks of her hair escaped the hold of her ear and they framed her face in such a way that made her look inviting and at the same time accentuated that air of untouchability that seemed to be always present around her. Some people recognised her as they walked past, their heads turning and fingers pointing, but none of them seemed to be inclined to disturb her, which you were grateful for.

Just one more minute, one more moment. You wanted to take her in as she was for just that bit longer.

It was as if she sensed you because, not a second later, she looked up to scan the crowd briefly, and then you were locked in her gaze. There was still quite a distance left between the two of you but even from where you stood, you saw her face lit up to a beaming grin as she met your eyes. She tucked her phone into her back pocket and gingerly pushed off from the column to approach you, sidestepping the people in her way with ease.

The next thing you knew, the familiar scent of wintergreen and mint, mixed with the faint sweetness of cinnamon and vanilla, washed over your senses. And the warm weight of her arms and body was all you could think about–could feel. Then a peck branded your cheek that left them feeling heated despite the dampness of her hair against your skin there.

Squinting through the sudden rawness of your eyes, you wrapped your arms around the strength of her, looping them around her waist as your hands found purchase on the small of her back. You hid your face in the safety of her neck, just like you’d done many times over the years. Like this, it was as if the two of you were still best of friends. Like you still knew each other like you used to.

“Hello, pretty girl,” she breathed against your ear. “Welcome back.”

As she said this, you knew in your mind–believed–that you were finally home. And the thought was enough to steal and return your breath to you.

You whispered.

“It’s good to be home, Alexia.”

———

The car ride was silent. It had started to drizzle not long ago and it had grown heavy enough that Alexia needed to turn the windshield wipers on. The wipers made a steady rhythm when they met the hood of the car and made a slight squeaking noise as they moved up and down the windshield–two of the few sounds that made the air in the car bearable.

The world outside the passenger side’s window had devolved to blobs and blurs from the droplets that clung to the glass. Still, you kept your gaze there as guilt gnawed at your gut the same way you worked your lower lip between your teeth.

The thing was, the walk to the car wasn’t bad at all. The both of you had chatted while Alexia led you to where she parked her car, your duffel bag hoisted casually over her shoulder despite your protests. But the moment the doors of her car slammed shut, so did you–it was as if all the weight of the past few months–exacerbated by the restless plane ride, finally hit you.

And to Alexia’s credit, she’d done everything she could to remove the silence. She asked you about your flight (again) and when that didn’t work, she began to talk football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt like for you. Alexia briefly turned the topic to Barça and sprinkled in some funny stories she hadn’t told you over the sparse messages you’d exchanged that you reacted to. You were just about to settle into the conversation when she inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning to Barça; she solicited the reason that made you inclined to come back. At that, you clammed up again. Alexia didn’t seem to notice because she began to mention things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now–in the quest to get you talking.

For each question she asked, you’d given her back the same kind of nothing: a yes, a no, a hum. The simple drizzle had turned to steady rain pattering against the roof, and the calming sound did nothing to ease the growing tension in the car. Despite the desire to engage in a conversation with Alexia, it was as if all of your thoughts–or at least the capacity to string them together–were hiding behind the dark curtain of your mind, the heavy veil tailored from the same fabric that weighed in your chest. Weariness pervaded your bones and your soul, and it exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a task now seemingly impossible.

So you excused yourself from the conversation. You told her it was jet lag. Alexia nodded in understanding, but the light in her eyes had dimmed, and she trained them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line fit for silence.

Despite not having spent time with her like you used to the last two years you’d been away, the language of her face and body was still familiar to you–and how could they not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–enough to know that she wasn’t convinced at all with what you said. Because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar.

The thought provided little comfort, and the guilt felt heavier, another stone dropped into the pitcher.

And the feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew. Alexia took time to drive you to your apartment instead of resting for tomorrow’s practice, and this was how you treat her? How nice.

Then another.

Just like how you treated Olivia, right?

Your eyes closed from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from a newly-sewn wound. And you tried to prevent yourself from crying, but the darkness only served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer and the words ever louder.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid…”

“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”

A touch to your arm startled you back to the present. The jostle from the gasp you let out was enough to make a tear fall, and you turned to Alexia who already had her eyes on you; her face graced with concern and a question.

The car had stopped, and now parked outside of your apartment complex.

“What’s wrong?” Came the gentle question.

Your heart lurched at the look she laid upon you, followed by an ache, a longing for the old times–back when you used to tell each other everything. But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained, glowing patiently as an ember in the dark, waiting for the wind to call her name again–to set her aflame again?

Another tear escaped your eye before you could turn away, which you brushed off with the back of your hand before you met Alexia’s gaze again.

“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.” You said with a small, apologetic smile.

Alexia traced some invisible path along your face, regarding you with a pensive look. The moment took long enough that you considered she’d press you for information. Instead, she teased softly with a half-smile, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?”

Your shoulders eased down a bit.

“Still a smart-mouth, I see,” you laughed with more than a bit of air, “Indeed, what else is new?”

At that, Alexia chuckled with you but the pressing silence returned.

Then Alexia sighed.

“How long has it been since we’ve played together?”

Her brows knitted together at her own question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her hands behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt up just enough to reveal the tattoo on the underside of her arm.

You casted your eyes aside, your gaze fleeting to the unlit window of your apartment.

A memory intruded your mind again.

“I’m not sure,” you half-whispered.

“Two years.” Something in her tone told that she knew that you knew, but she didn’t call you out on it. But it seemed she was more inclined to call you out on something you said a long time ago. “I hope you’ve made peace with whatever made you leave all the way to the States of all places.”

You looked at her. Alexia’s brow was raised in silent expectation. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on.”

“‘Come on’, what?”

“You were offered a place in Lyon–in Bayern. Bayern! When I heard you were leaving, I went, ‘That’s it. Bayern has her’. Imagine my surprise when you said you were going to America.” Alexia scoffed as she gestured in the air with her hands for emphasis. A pause before she continued, “Now, tell me why you really went away.”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah. What was it you said? ‘I’ve always wanted to see what the competition is like there’? For someone who talked about Neuer and Bayern all the time second to Barça, it always made me think how and when the NWSL crossed your mind.”

Guess you don’t know me that well then.

You bit your tongue before you could say it. Instead, you shrugged and sighed, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs. “If you don’t want to believe what I said, that’s up to you. I stand by it.”

Alexia regarded you with that same deciphering look she’d been giving you the whole night. And as if she finally understood that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with you, she shook her head and sank back down in her seat.

“Indulge me, then. Tell me, what’s the verdict?” Alexia drawled, dripping with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

It wasn’t like home.

“Really appreciate the judgment all over your tone, Alexia.” You replied drily then added, “And it was great, thank you very much.”

Alexia tilted her chin up to release a laugh. A strand of her hair fell out of place and she brushed it back with a finger.

“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. I’m sure you have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’

I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.

“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did.

“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”

I went away because of you.

“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.

Alexia chuckled, and then softly she said, “Just tell me anything then.”

Distance didn’t work. My heart is still yours.

You hummed, thinking of a story, as you finally eased back on your seat and then you began.

“Well…”

#ap11 #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #my writing #a/n: that benfica vs barca match today was definitely something #also not sure when ill be able to post chapter two but i hope you guys enjoy this <3

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candywrithee · 5 months ago

Note

R ur requests open??? Can I please get a gender bent Rarity, Applejack, and Twilight x fem (or gn if you don't do fem specifically) Pegasus reader headcanons pretty please 🥺 idk if you do NSFW but if you don't I don't mind just fluff

Please I'm desperate🙏🙏 ❤️❤️❤️✨✨❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏

Aight. No gender mentioned really :P

Dusk Shine, Elusive & Applejack w/a Pegasus Reader

1. Dusk Shine + Reader

Unicorn! Dusk will probably be annoyed if you're the type to prank him just because you can fly. But what you didn't know is that he just lets you prank him. You should know that by a spark of his magic, he can easily stop your pranks but he loves you too much that he loves to see you smile.

If you don't mind, can you help him carry or deliver things for him? Of course that is if you don't mind. He's just a little busy so he would appreciate your help in any way. Even if sometimes you have to convince HIM to let you help. He's a loner, he's used to being alone but then you swoop in into his personal space and he doesn't know what to do.

Alicorn! Dusk is a little more open. He still likes being alone but now he doesn't mind or grumble to anypony wanting to hang out with him. Therefore, you are more than allowed to be more lovey dovey with him just as long as you know how to limit them. He's still a little shy.

Now that he has wings, you two can fly together now! Which lead to a lot of fun small races against each other. More than once, ponies of equestria can see blurs of two different colours in the sky and Rainbow Blitz interrupting y'all to join in the race.

Overall, whichever Dusk is, he still loves you in his own interesting way.

"DUUUUUSK JUST LET ME HELP!"

"Fine but don't complain when you're in the middle of doing it." He proceeds to hang you books and scrolls in a bag and kiss your forehead because he's not brave to kiss your cheek.

2. Elusive + Reader

Drama King and his unbothered lover or his whipped lover. Whichever dynamic you prefer.

Hope you don't mind dolling up for him. As soon as you step into his boutique, you getting dragged immediately to dress up. You're a perfect model to test out outfits for pegasuses. However if you told him to stop, he'll stop. He knows boundaries, he has them himself. Plus, he loves you.

He'll probably ask you to help him deliver and fetch things for him. No need to ask if you could help. You probably help him immediately if you noticed how panicked his state is in. Don't worry! He'll give you a kiss or an outfit when you've done your duty! Whichever you wanted more or comfortable with.

His little brother, Poppet Bell, loves you! Can you carry him? Bring him up to fly?? PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE! If you gave into his puppy eyes, you'd make Elusive worried sick. Please don't fall or let his brother fall, as if you would.

"My dear, you truly gave me a scare when I suddenly saw you up with Poppet while I was in the market... Why did you even do that?"

"I succumbed to his puppy dog eyes hehe."

"Goodness my dear."

3. Applejack + Reader

Oh wow you're helpful for the farm. Is what applejack thinks at first. Please don't be mad at him, his whole life is contributed to his farm and family. But hey! At least you're now part of his family.

He won't force you into work (he also needs a little convincing) but if you did help him, you'd be too focused in what you're helping with to notice how he looks at you with basically apple hearts in his eyes. You had to find that out when Apple Buck gave pretended to vomit which embarrassed Applejack greatly. Macareina even told you that Applejack looks you the way their father looks at their mom, absolutely whipped. Don't even get me started on Grandpa Smith.

If you want, you can try racing against him like that one fall episode. He'll easily beat you or if you're very athletic, you can excel or match his pace. Either way, he'll comfort you and/or be proud of you.

"Can you help collect that side of the farm, sugar cube? It's okay if you don't want to hun."

"We talk about thiss.. I'll help you with anything you ask for!"

"Thank you sugar. I'm still not use to asking for help.."

"Bleugrh can you two lovebirds get back to apple picking already?!" You and Applejack proceed to laugh at Apple Buck's disgusted face but Applejack's laugh is more bashful.

#mlp genderbend #my little pony #genderbend #mlp fim #mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #mlp #x reader #my little pony genderbend #genderbend mlp #dusk shine #elusive #applejack

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whorediaries-09 · 1 year ago

Text

tempt;

"I left a calling card so they would know that it was me."

☆ EVENTS ☆

'tis the damn season (closed)

you can meet me at the hotel; (closed) [kinkotober masterlist]

put your life out on the line" (closed)

got the wine for you; (closed) [false god (masterlist)]

maybe it's a blessing in disguise; (closed)

music got you lost; (open) [masterlist]

✧ ONE-SHOTS ✧

Peppers Sirius Black X Reader. Fuck buddies to lovers. Modern AU!. 18+ content

Delicate Sirius Black X Reader. Friends to lovers. TW- Self harm, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Night We Met Sirius Black X Reader Set During Order of The Phoenix. Mention of major character death(s).

New Year's Day Sirius Black X Reader Set during Order of The Phoenix. Fluff and low humor.

Cardigan; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort.

Sure Thing; Sirius Black X Shy!Reader Fluff.

Oh Children; Sirius Black X Reader Angst.

Million Dollar Man; Sirius Black x Camgirl!reader 18+ content, drinking.

Daylight Flowerist!Sirius Black X Barista!reader Fluff.

Consume; Dark!Sirius Black X Muggle!reader. 18+ content, cemeteries, dark themes.

Born to die Cult!leader Sirius Black X Reader. Mentions of murder, gore, dark themes.

Afterglow; Felix Catton x Reader Hurt/Comfort.

Dancing with our hands tied; Sirius Black X Reader. Hurt/Comfort, injuries, blood. (potential part two)

Maneater; Neighbor!James Potter X Reader 18+ content, stalker behavior, darkish themes.

She just hit my heart; James Potter X Reader Fluff.

Don't blame me; Priest!Remus Lupin X Reader Alludes to sex, dark themes.

Pick your poison, babe; Sirius Black X Reader Suggestive Content, fluff.

Try me; Ravi Singh X Reader Cigarettes, hurt/comfort.

ψ SERIES ψ

The Seven Lives; Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter. Status- On going (PAUSED)

No Time To Die (Status - Completed)

The hurricane with my name on it. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

Love to think you'll never forget. Please read chapter warnings on top of each chapter.

⨴MOODBOARDS⨵

Poison Ivy From my fall event (close)

Heartbeat; From 'the seven lives' series.

§ ASKED AND ANSWERED §

Call It What You Want Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Touch sensitivity.

Indentation in the shape of you Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. Fluff, bad humor.

Now I'm Covered in You Sirius Black X Reader. Post Azkaban Sirius. 18+ Content. From my fall event (close)

Trying To Keep The Water Warm James Potter X Reader. Professor James AU! Fluff. From my fall event (close)

Dark Red James Potter X Reader Set during the Marauders era. 18+ content.

Womanizer Sirius Black x Reader Set During the Marauders era. Angst, 18+ content, drinking, hints at sexual assault.

Meddle About; West Coast; FDad!James Potter X Reader. 18+ content, mentions of alcohol, age gap.

Maroon Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, drinking, alludes to sexual assault, hurt/comfort.

The great war; Sirius Black X Reader ex to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort. Part two to Maroon.

Do I wanna know? Rockstar!Sirius Black X Reader. 18+ content.

Dusk till dawn Sirius Black X Lestrange!Reader Hurt/Comfort, dialogue heavy.

Smoke on my clothes; Rockstar!Sirius Black X Popstar!Reader Fluff, 18+ content, use of y/n.

Into You; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, porn without plot.

Wherever I go; Remus Lupin X Reader. Making out, suggestive, fluff.

Blue Jeans; Professor!Harry Potter X Reader 18+ content.

Getaway car; Sirius Black X Desi!Reader 18+ content, sexual tension, substances.

I think he knows; Ron Weasley X Reader 18+ content, mentions of war, fluff.

Gorgeous; James Potter X Reader 18+ content.

House of balloons/glass table girls; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

You're in love Policeman!James Potter X Baker!Reader Fluff.

Can't you see, you're meant for me? Bsf!Dad!James Potter X Reader Suggestive content, fluff.

I'm gonna make you my wife; Sirius Black X Reader Banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content.

This place will burn you up; Sirius Black X Reader 18+ content.

❁ ODE TO FANFICTION ❁

Hall of morals;

I'm running back home to you;

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teamred · 6 months ago

Note

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—”

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head.

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.”

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.”

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.”

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb.

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer.

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact.

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.”

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?”

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.

#eupheme #cee.q&a #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #i think i overshared but i'm always game to share what i'm currently working on ahhh #on top of that i'm currently working on that wade fic that i got inspired from your post!!#i love working on ideas but executing them?? we shall see.... HAHA #thanks for being interested j!!! <3

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daceydeath · 2 months ago

Text

Crashing Waves (Part 1)

Pairing: Pirate San x Reader Word Count: 5k Genre: Fantasy AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol

I thought that I knew love. But it was just the waves crashing over us ~ Waves by The Dear Hunter

You sat quietly on the dock watching the last of the dusk's light sink beneath the horizon, you often came to the ocean at night. You never really understood the sway it had over you but it gave you a sense of calm and peace to listen to it to watch the waves rise and fall the soft whispers it gave to you each time you were near it. Although you had been warned a hundred different times by your father and friends to stay away from the docks it was the only place you could go tonight, the king tide making it far too difficult to get to the small rocky cove you often visited.

Come home child, come home to me.

The sailors and merchants all ignored you, having slipped out of your corset and hiding your hair beneath a hat you didn’t look like a lady of the night and there was no way you looked wealthy enough to bother so most, probably, assumed you were an urchin scrounging for anything you could to get by. There had been chaos within the town that day swelling and frothing like the seas during a storm which had left the streets empty and most of the ships with their gangways stowed to prevent anyone untoward coming aboard. Only one colossal ship that sat docked on the furthest berth away from the other vessels but again you didn’t really care you just made your way past it and sat with your feet dangling above the water your pants hiked up to your knees to prevent them getting wet.

Earlier you had been sitting in the tavern listening to your friends prattle on about pirates stealing women away to sell to foreign lands or taking them as prizes to spend the rest of their lives at sea but you were yet to hear a single shred of actual evidence of this. Pirates, mercenaries and soldiers were often the same thing; it just depended on who was paying them. If they worked for themselves they were pirates, if they could be bought they were mercenaries and if they could become loyal they were soldiers. The line between was pretty damn thin in your mind. Each drink had made you more uninterested in their stories and increased the longing you felt to be alone so while they continued to dance and drink you slipped away to find solitude beside the waves of the highest tide this year.

“What are you doing here?” a stern voice asked from behind you making you jump slightly then frown deeply in disappointment.

“I’m watching the waves” you replied honestly annoyance clear in your voice, not even looking back at the man who had interrupted your peace.

“Sounds like a ruse to spy on us” he muttered bitterly, his footfalls getting closer to you, his boots clunking against each of the old boards that had been worn smooth with time and salt as he moved.

“I don’t know or care who you are sir, please just leave me alone” you continued, turning your body to sit against one of the large dock posts so you could see both him and the ocean. His face was still half in shadow but you could tell he was someone important. The gold chain that hung across his chest and the glittering rings on his fingers showed wealth but the sword on his belt warned of potential danger.

“Then why are you so close to my ship?” he demanded coldly, his scrutiny obvious as the waves began picking up and started to bob his ship slightly in its mooring, the breeze fluttering the sails on the boats docked.

“Because your ship is docked where I sit, you decided that not me” already being tired from a long day and probably one too many drinks. You had little emotional strength left to even pretend you care if he was offended or angry. His presence was irritating you when he could have just ignored you. He remained silent studying you as you turned back to the sea watching the waves even out once more.

“You're not curious who I am? Not afraid of me either?” he queried, seeming perplexed about his whole encounter with you, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword although you still didn’t flinch.

“No, I’m not” you admitted quietly, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the old wooden post. After a few more minutes of nothingness he left presumably to his ship which loomed between you and the shore blocking the view of the town you lived in. Once the darkness finally fell you stood and wandered back towards your family’s home fully aware that a different man was following you, his feet moving almost silently as he remained shrouded in shadow everytime you passed by a street lamp that bathed the ground with an eerie amber gold light.

“I know you are there” you breathed stepping into a dim alleyway beside the apothecary. You heard the steps pause and then a quiet sigh as he stepped into the dim light only a few feet from you “Did your friend ask you to follow me?”.

“He didn’t understand why you didn’t care about the danger you were in, or whether you did and you really are a spy” he replied in his musical voice the only thing you could discern since he was covered head to toe in black, his raised hood covering most of his face.

“He’s either paranoid or he thinks that your reputation precedes you so much that a small town woman knows who you are” you challenged leaning against the dirty bricks as you accepted that perhaps you should have listened to just about everyone and not visited the docks.

“Did you not see the logo on our ship? Do you not know what it means?” He asked a touch softer as if he suddenly noticed how you were dressed and how you looked he stepped forward and you realized how tall he was, although his lithe frame made him seem young.

“I saw it but I don’t know it” you admitted tilting your head “my family work on land we don’t know anything about pirates”.

“How do you know we are pirates then?” he asked but you could hear the smile that was likely gracing his face.

“Big ship, paranoid captain who wears expensive looking jewels, tall assassin looking man who follows his orders. Do I need to keep listing things off?” you smiled right back daring him to deny any of the things you mentioned.

“Alright you are clever I’ll give you that. Why do you spend time at the docks if you work in the town?” He pressed lowering his hood to allow you to see him. Even in the low light you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened. He was beautiful, longish dark hair framed his sharp featured face like a gilded frame making it almost impossible to look away from.

“The ocean has always called to me, I sit beside it every night it calms me especially when I have a little too much to drink” you whispered, still staring at him unashamedly you could see the cogs turning in his head deciding how he would proceed with you.

“I’m Seonghwa” he bowed his head respectfully, seeming pleased that you were so openly staring at him.

“Well Seonghwa nice to meet you” you offered your hand for him to shake noticing the grace with which he moved.

“Come by the ship tomorrow before noon I want to show you something” his eyes twinkled as he smirked at you before turning away and disappearing from sight. Still dazed from meeting Seonghwa, you continued home knowing that he was no longer following you.

“Why would I want to do that?” you mused thinking that he was already gone disappeating into the inky darkness.

“Because now you’re curious” he laughed softly his voice fainter than before.

“Fucking cloak and dagger bullshit” you muttered stepping back out of the allyway and into the street to continue towards home.

“So was she spying?” Wooyoung nonchalantly asked his feet up on one of the chairs in the galley.

“Nope she’s just a normal girl” Seonghwa chuckled watching Hongjoong frown deeply “Had one drink too many and needed some air”.

“She can’t be just a ‘normal girl” Hwa, when I spoke to her she got annoyed and the waves started when I left her alone and she calmed down. The waves stopped, that isn’t normal” Hongjoong insisted irritation in his tone.

“True but either way she wasn’t spying” Hwa smiled crookedly before moving towards the doorway “Oh I invited her to the ship tomorrow so you could always ask her yourself”.

“Who’s coming tomorrow?” San piped up entering the galley from the other end plopping himself down beside Wooyoung to begin eating.

“Mystery girl” Wooyoung cackled, watching as Hongjoong’s frown intensified, staring at the place the Seonghwa had just been filling.

“I don’t get what’s so special about her” Mingi mumbled from the spot he had been sitting in watching the discussion before him.

“Hongjoong thinks she's one of those sea imps but she can’t be, she lives on land” Yeosang whispered back in between mouthfuls of dinner.

“Dipshits” Hongjoong rolled his eyes stabbing at his food viciously.

“Were you at the docks?” your roommate Mara narrowed her eyes at you looking you over for filth or injury.

“No, I went to the cliffs above the cove. The tide was too high tonight to get down to the rocks” you lied shamelessly ripping the bread she had saved for you into pieces before popping it in your mouth.

“Well you still smell like salt” you nodded slowly going back to the book she had been reading her eyes skimming the rest of the page in silence.

“I have smelt of worse things. I heard there were pirates that docked today” you started your words half garbled by the bread filling your mouth “The whole tavern was talking about them”.

“That’s why I told you to stay away from the docks” Mara sighed defeated before looking over at you unimpressed. “You never pay attention to anything do you? There was a notice put up just about everywhere that there were pirates seen just past the headland and they were probably headed here and you didn’t even see them did you?”.

“Sorry Mara” you bowed your head unwittingly, annoying her by just being yourself again, you couldn’t help that you didn’t pay attention to every stupid thing that happened in town.

“Finish your bread and go to sleep” she grumbled putting down her book and turning out the lamps.

When you woke up, Mara was already gone, probably having left for the market for work. It gave you a chance to clean up and change before venturing to the docks to see if Seonghwa had meant what he had said about showing you something. Donning a simple pair of dark jeans and a green tunic you slipped from the house unnoticed, taking only an apple, some bread and some biscuits to last you until you could return home again. You wanted to take your bicycle to make the trip quicker but you knew that would lead to you being recognized and you didn’t want to be stopped. You were too curious about this thing that the beautiful Seonghwa wanted to show you even if you were unsure you could trust him.

It was close to noon by the time you slipped yourself through the docks and approached the ship, the ostentatious decorations on the hull making it much more noticeable in the daylight, the solid brass and copper engines that sat just above water level were something you had never seen before and the gigantic red A that was stitched into each sail and painted on the hull gave little doubt of the owners intentions. Walking up the gangway you stopped one step before you would be considered onboard the ship waiting until one of the men on the deck noticed you.

“Uh who are you?” a pretty man who looked far too etherial to be a pirate asked you his broom halting mid sweep when he saw you.

“Where did you even come from?” a broad man with a striking face asked moving to step in front of his shipmate waiting to see what you would say his hand hovering near his waist.

“Seonghwa asked me to come” you smiled nervously looking at him. He looked like he could intimidate anyone he chose to but there was something in his actions that made you feel safe instead of fear.

“Ah you came!, welcome to my home, well our home” Seonghwa’s sothing honey laughter made itself known before he gracefully stepped into view.

“Hello again Seonghwa” you bowed your head but didn’t move. You knew you had to be expressly invited in before you assumed anything with pirates; it was only polite.

“Come I will give you the tour” he beckoned you onto the boat which you gingerly stepped onto the once moving vessel now standing completely still which made the two crew members look at each other subtly, something crossing between them that you didn’t understand.

“Lead the way then” you stepped towards him as he moved back through the darkened doorway into the belly on the ship.

“They were Yeosang and San. The others we will probably find along the way” he hummed showing you the galley, the armory and the crew quarters finally walking you past the cannons on your way towards what you could only assume was the captain's quarters.

“So should I assume that what you wanted to show me is probably the captain” you mused looking at a cannon with interest. The gleam of the silver barrels showing that they had seen little action.

“Yes and no” Seonghwa conceded with a sly smile tugging on his lips.

“Shall we get this over with I’m getting hungry and I left my lunch on the dock” you sigh knowing that although it is unlikely a trap you will probably have to talk to the annoying man again.

“Captain” Seonghwa knocked sharply on the door to the quarters waiting for a sign to enter.

“Come” a loud voice called letting you know that it probably was the same man from the night before.

“This is the one I was talking about” Seonghwa announced, swinging open the door and carefully pushing you through the opening, stepping in behind you and almost blocking your exit. Despite the large windows the room remained dim, large heavy curtains blocking out most of the light that was trying to illuminate the room. Three men occupied the space, a tall man who looked you over with slight confusion, a serious looking man with floppy dark hair and a smaller man who you recognized as being the jerk from the dock the night before. He sat at the desk, his hands holding a large looking glass and a necklace which he had been by the looks of it appraising, because pirates you guessed.

“Hwa said you aren’t a spy” he started placing the necklace down on the dark wooden table.

“I told you that already” you interrupted tilting your head and narrowing your eyes at him. “Last night when you interrupted me”.

“He also tells me you are brazen, stubborn and headstrong but that the sea calls to you” he continued unfazed by your words.

“Well he must be quite the spy himself if he gleaned all that from one conversation and followed me most of the way home” you conceded, shrugging indifferently as you looked around the room. A large bed sat against the windows, its canopy made up of more dark heavy fabric that probably helped to muffle the sound of the waves at night, papers and books littered all the other flat surfaces and large paintings of sea creatures covered the walls. One painting on the wall lit up with its own lamp caught your attention, not just for the overly ornate gilt frame but because it was something you were sure you had seen before perhaps in a dream or in a book. It was of a woman, her face hidden in her reddish hair in a simple white gown that had been painted as though she was simply suspended underwater.

“He should have said infuriating” the captain clapped back bringing your attention to him once more.

“You haven’t even introduced yourself why would I owe you anything more than what I am giving you, Seonghwa at least has manners” you mutter looking up at the large ornate ceiling that is decorated with vivid images of sea monsters. A kraken looming ominously above the desk.

“I’m Captain Hongjoong, this is my navigator navigator Jongho and my medic Yunho” he nodded to the two men in turn “I apologize for my poor manners would you grant me the grace to start the conversation again” his voice was resigned but held an air of annoyance.

"Do you like my ship?" he asked, tilting his head as he scrutinized you for the second time in 24 hours.

"She's very impressive, but I still do understand why I'm here Captain Hongjoong" you tilted your head in return not letting your eyes drop from his.

"Seonghwa says you are called to be the sea, is that true?" he continued narrowing his eyes slightly, the others who you had seen and a couple who you hadn't had managed to all make their way into the room sitting or leaning in various places but all looking at you. You stood silently mirroring his posture unconsciously as you weighed up your answer.

"Has this got anything to do with that?" you pointed your thumb in the direction of one of the paintings hung on the wall with scraps of paper pinned around it. "Because I find peace by the ocean but I am no sea nymph".

Hongjoong glared at the painting on the wall, not answering you immediately. The silence strained and became more intense as the seconds passed by. His crew looked almost nervous as they looked between each other and then back to their captain.

"But yes the sea calls to me" you added quietly, making Hongjoong's eyes widen as they snapped back to your face, the frustration in his expression melting away to reveal a look of awe.

"What does it say?" he breathed almost inaudibly.

"Home" you murmured, feeling Seonghwa's hand find your back as you swayed slightly, the ship beginning to rock beneath your feet.

"We will not hurt you" Hongjoong instantly stood his chair scraping noisily against the wooden floor "No one on this ship would ever cause you harm you have my word I know it must be telling you otherwise".

Danger child, he is a danger

"Why would you ever harm me? I'm no one, not even worth a ransom" you looked up again meeting his eyes, your head suddenly swimming like you had been drinking absinthe again. The words circling your brain continuously. "How do you know what she says?".

"Hwa" Hongjoong yelled but you had closed your eyes, or maybe the lights had gone out but either way you felt something hard and warm crash into your front before your face hit the floor. The room was not only spinning but raising and falling the sensation making your queasy.

"Thanks San" Seonghwa's faint voice echoed in your head before you could no longer hear.

"The fuck just happened? Is she dead?" Mingi blurted, looking bewildered as San scooped you into his arms and moved you towards the captain's bed as carefully as he could as the ship rocked violently.

"Does she need a doctor or do you think you can manage?" San whispered to Yunho who was already checking your pulse in your wrist.

"She's breathing and her heart rate is normal, if she doesn't wake up in an hour maybe" Yunho hummed, placing the back of his hand on your forehead "Can someone bring me some water?". Jongho dashed from the room as quickly as he could trying not to trip on anything that had fallen from the captain's desk as the sound of books falling to the floor thudded behind him.

"I can't be the only one confused about her knowledge of the painting though right? You said that it was a one off original, that it was incredibly unknown which is why it had to be stolen" Wooyoung sounding more hysterical than he probably wanted to. "How would she know about it! and why is it so fucking rough right now?".

"She could be mistaken but she knew it was about sea nymphs" Yeonsang added, squeezing Wooyoung's shoulder to keep him calm while pressing themselves against the wall so they had something to hold onto while the turbulent movements of the ship unsteadied them.

"The diary said it had been hidden for more than 150 years, that no one had laid eyes on it in almost 100 of those years. She looks like she's not even 25". Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows confused by the whole thing, the swinging overhead lamp throwing bazaar flashes of light over them all.

"She's going to wake up in a second stop being so loud" Hongjoong grunted holding the edge of his desk knowing that the rest of the ship would probably be a complete mess from the short burst of waves.

"There you are" San smiled softly, his eyes creasing up as your eyes fluttered open.

"You had us worried for a second there" Yunho joked, his voice soft as he placed a wet cloth against your forehead Jongho still holding the bowl of water so it wouldn't spill everywhere.

"I'm sorry?" you mumbled your voice sounding far away even to your own ears.

Safe keep you safe

"You fainted" Yunho smiled, his voice still soft as he continued pressing the cloth against your skin he watched your breathing for a moment before dipping the cloth back in the water "Can you sit up or would you rather roll on your side? I need to put this on the back of your neck".

"Are you a doctor?" you blinked slowly trying to lift yourself from the soft thing you were laying on "Did I hurt anything when I fell?".

"San caught you so no you have no injuries" Yunho nodded to San who took hold of each of your wrists slowly pulling you into a sitting position while Yunho placed the cloth on your neck.

"Thank you San" you murmured weakly, noticing a pink flush dust his cheekbones.

"What happened? Did you hear anything before you fainted?" Hongjoong asked from his desk where he remained leaning against the shiny dark wood. You continued blinking slowly, registering that you were lying on his bed in the same room as they were all in with you moments ago.

"That's none of your business" you swallowed shakily, turning to look back at San who looked openly worried at the way your arms trembled in his hands. "I would like to go home now".

"Not until we know you won't faint the moment you stand up" Yunho soothed wetting the cloth again "can you hold this against your chest please? I can close the curtain so no one can see you".

"Please" you whimpered watching San lean across to pull on the fabric for Yunho.

"Do you want me to leave?" San whispered his voice was soft watching you fumble with the lacing at the top of your tunic.

"No it's alright" you half smiled, feeling your face heat up as Yunho moved your hands away, his long fingers deftly untying the knot and loosening them enough to slip the cloth under without exposing you.

"I need to get off this ship" you mumbled meekly looking up at Yunho then to San tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"I will carry you off myself if I have to" San continued whispering to make sure only you heard him. "But you need to feel less overheated and look less pale first".

"Woo, can you get me some candy? Sweets might help her feel better" Yunho called through the thick dark burgundy fabric causing shuffling and noise to erupt on the other side after another few minutes of silence a hand thrust through the fabric holding a bag of what looked like marshmallows.

"Eat a few please, the sugar should help" Yunho hummed.

"Thank you mystery candy baring hand" you called hearing a loud bark of laughter follow your words. After half a dozen marshmallows Yunho placed his hand back against your forehead nodding to San who pulled open the curtains for you.

"Try standing slowly" Yunho instructed, standing in front of you as San remained behind you. Your legs felt a little shaky but nothing too bad as you placed your weight on them bouncing on your toes softly. "Good I think you will be alright now".

"Thank you for your help Yunho" you smiled, relieved that you would be able to get as far away from their captain as you could.

"I'll take you back up to the deck if you want" San looked hopeful as you turned your head to look at him.

Safe be safe

"Please San" you murmured ignoring the others as questions started being thrown in your direction.

"Will you come again?" Seonghwa's honey voice poured into your ear.

"I don't know" you looked at him keeping your voice as level as you could "I was nice to meet you all".

San led you towards the deck with Yunho following you both just to be safe as you slowly descended the gangway you felt a surge of relief come over you like water pouring from a bucket over your head. Picking up your pack which you had stowed behind some creates you fished out your apple biting into it before looking back up at the ship. San and Yunho were still there although now the others had joined them looking almost ominous as their silhouettes stood tall against the light behind them. Nodding once you walked back along the dock the salty air blowing your messy hair around you.

"Well that went shockingly bad" Seonghwa sighed leaning against the railing as they watched you disappear between the other ships.

"Oh yeah the only thing that would have been worse was if we kidnapped her" Mingi rolled his eyes.

"She will never set foot here again" Jongho laughed, nudging San who looked slightly confused.

"I've never seen you that soft before what happened?" Wooyoung quizzed rounding on San who just shrugged before leaving to return to his cabin knowing damn well it would be a mess from earlier.

"You had to see that the waves came and went depending on her though right?" Hongjoong insisted.

"Yeah but I don't think it will be easy to convince her to come with us. She seems desperate to be away from us, well some of us" Seonghwa conceded watching San's retreating figure.

"Well we will just have to convince her then" Wooyoung bounced cheekily smirking at them before scampering away after San.

You decided on the walk back you would stop into the apocathary to see if Salvia had anything that could quell the unease that you were still feeling. The bell rang loudly as you stepped inside the calming scent of dried herbs and lavendar filling your lungs as you walked towards the counter.

“Via?” you called stepping around the counter and towards the back room. “It’s me”.

“Little possum what are you doing here? You aren’t working today” Salvia blinked looking at you through the steam of the large pot she was boiling.

“I know, I’m just feeling really weird so I wanted something to make it go away” you continued peering into the large brass pot to find an interesting combination of plants and muslin bags tied with string.

“Hair tonic” Via explained as she stepped towards you her hand outstretched to feel your face “What are your symptoms?”.

“I feel nervous, queasy, and hot” you listed as she scrutinised you “Oh and my legs have been shaking like I’ve been running for hours.

“Hmmmm” Salvia hummed looking puzzled for a moment before going over to one of her store cupboards and pulling out a box marked with large red letters. “Take two bags in a cup of tea now, then before bed. It’s probably your moon time that’s causing it”.

“But I’m not having that right now” you swallowed as she bustled to the stove to lace the kettle on the heat and get you a mug.

“No but it will probably start soon and this is common before it in a lot of women” she smiled softly picking up the teabags and placing two in a bag for you and two in the waiting mug.

“You are a life saver Via” you smiled crookedly “You should put that on the sign Salvia the Savior”.

“That might get us more customers” he nodded sagely before pouting the water from the now whistling kettle into you cup to let it seep.

“So what’s with the pirates at the dock?” you asked as casually as you could “That ship is gigantic”.

“I would steer clear of the docks for the time being” Salvia warned seriously “That crew is infamous for their cruelty and violence”.

“Hold on why would pirates like that be in our town?” you frowned “what could they want with anyone here?”.

“Could be just suppliess, could be looking for a place it hide. It’s not important. They are murderers for hire who have no humanity” Salvia almost spat as she glared at the brewing tonic.

“It’s alright Via, I’m not planning to run away with the pirates I just didn’t even know they were there until I saw the massiv ship” you blurted quickly hoping that she would calm back down and let you finish your tea without a full lecture.

“I know you’re a good girl” Salvia conceeded smiling at you in a very motherly fashion “now take your tea and I’ll see you tomorrow”.

a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies. I have recently struggled to find any motivation to write and it has been hard but hopefully after Christmas and a proper rest period I will be back to my normal self. As always your likes, reblogs, comments and encouragement mean so much to me xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @skersey33

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 8 months ago

Text

Won't say I'm in love

Your friend asks about your crush and why you haven't confessed yet, so what is your reasoning

It's most of them but whatever

Jin

“Don't even think about pushing me to confess”

“Why not? He treats you so nice~” she lifts her fingers as she counts “bought you a few pairs of dresses for the gala, protected you in vagastorm, lent you a boat for a mission”

Tired you interrupt her with your reasons “First, I want to get married and I doubt he either wants to marry or he doesn't have already some arranged marriage type of deal” you lift two fingers as you refer to the two possibilities “and I think his dad would hate me, honestly” she rolls her eyes, knowing from what you told her he wouldn't really care what he thought.

“And your second excuse?”

You stay silent for a second but look into her eyes “And second, there is a non zero chance that he might be making me fall so I can potentiate his stigma” your friend pats your back, sensing how your mood went sour.

Kaito

“I do find his neediness cute! Yeah, chase after me and ask me my number and tell me I'm the prettiest in this school!” you clap your hands together and anchor them to your knees, looking like a businessman selling a hard proposal to shareholders “but that loses its charm when it's every other girl that looks at him, I like loser men when they are desperate for me, not in general”

Luca

“I like Luca, that is a fact, but he is already so burdened by search for his brother that I doubt he is even interested in romance or anything like that”

Your friend bites into her veggie sandwich and looks at you doubtful “and you don't want to try because you don't want the confirmation or are you a coward?”

Sighing into your hands you continue “and even if he was into romance and liked me back I wouldn't want to burden him with my curse”

“And you think you should be the only one deciding that?” she continues to judge you making you whine a little ‘i hate you’

Leo

“He is an asshole” you say plain and simple, making your friend launch forward holding her stomach “he isn't really that much nicer to Sho, who is his best friend, he is always pushing him around and ordering him to do things. Plus the bet he made with me makes it sound like he would never fall for me” your friend nods along to your reasoning “I think I'm happy enough being delulu when he grabs me as his girlfriend for his videos”

Sho

“He looks at you with so tenderly~ please you can't deny it”

“I mean he is very sweet and takes me on rides with Bonnie but there is just a little something that makes me uneasy” her head leans to the left curious “Ren told me he used to be a Casanova a few years back, that is making me a bit resistant to accepting my feelings”

She rolls her eyes, were you truly thinking so hard about his smack talk? “And you are taking his word for real? For all that you know he could be salty he isn't good at flirting”

“Given my situation I don't think I would be able to deal with a heartbreak right now”

Haru

“He is just so busy, working from the break of dawn to dusk, I would hate to give him the burden of a partner”

“Then why don't you ease his work a bit?”

“My only ability is potentiate stigmas, nothing that could help protect me, and there is a reason there aren't any general students in jabberwock. At most I could cook for them and feed peekaboo”

“And you aren't happy with helping him with that?”

You snort, fed up with her not understanding your point “I know Haru, he would overexert himself even more trying to be a good boyfriend”

Towa

“I mean…” you say jokingly after she asked you why you don't confess to Towa. She laughs in response “I'm just going to say that it almost feels like I'm fighting a war for his interest and the other party doesn care, yet I'm still losing” she laughs under her hand, trying to keep it down. You look at her seeking confirmation “doesn't it look like it? I gave him flowers and he fed me one and left to share with Haru the others”

“That even hurt me”

“So, yeah, not a very promising future even if he accepts my confession”

Ren

“Do you like charity cases or something?” her eyes widened, stunned, when you told her about your crush.

“Can't you be a little nicer? It isn't like I was going to confess for real”

“Why? I doubt he gets much romantic attention, he most likely would accept” you kick her under the table causing her to look at you offended.

“it's just that I already have a negative forecast for the end of this year and his negativity can be cute like, yeah keep bitching about the wifi speed, gamer boy” you laugh a little “but at some point it's tiring, like I want to hang out, can you not whine about the sun? It might be just another annoying day for him but it's one day less for me”

Taiga

You look at her as if she lost her mind. “You want me to confess to Taiga, Taiga Hoshibami, who can't even remember my name?”

“Maybe he will remember you if you give him matching trinkets” she rubs her shoulder against yours, playfully teasing about your crush.

“My goodness, it will be more likely that the cure is found so drop it”

“Well then let's bet, if Yuri finds you a cure you will have to confess, if he doesn't I won't” you whine about it but in the end accept.

Ritsu

A hand lays on your friend's shoulder making her turn “Yesterday I did as you told me and I asked him if he wanted to stay and drink coffee at my dorm after we did some work” your friend now looks interested at any update on your love life but looking at your face she already knows it isn't anything good “he looked me straight in the eye and deadpan said ‘Do you have something you want to consult with me? You already know my fee, right?’ I wanted to die of embarrassment!”

“Well, why not be more direct?”

“I told him two compliments, ‘you look so good in your suit today!’ and ‘the sinostra tie color makes your eyes pop’ and he looked at me weirdly” you rest your head on your friend's shoulder, her hand sliding up and down your back “and don't even propose being more direct because I'm so sure he would file for sexual harassment it isn't even funny” you both laugh at your despair

Rui

Your friend looks wide eyed at your refusal to

“He does flirt with me and makes me all giggly and my cheeks heat up, but he flirts as a joke with quite a few people so I might be misunderstanding the situation”

“The one who kills whatever he touches and the one who is going to die! Pretty matching curses if I say so myself, almost destiny” she elbows your ribs to attempt to make you laugh but rather she sees your hurt expression “ill timed joke. Sorry”

“You are so stupid”

Yuri

“Stop judging me!”

She looks at you oddly “is this something like reverse nightingale syndrome or something?” She teases “I personally can't really see what you see, he yells all the time and acts all high and mighty”

You gasp offended “that is not true! He was so vulnerable with me during one check up on mortkraken I just couldn't help my heart” you remember him telling you about how he wasn't able to help his mother get better and how guilty he felt because of it and almost implied he would make it up curing your curse “I just don't want to put more pressure on him to investigate and make him lose more sleep over it, it's one thing to lose a patient and another one to lose a significant other”

Jiro

“no but listen to me,” you tap her side with your hand “do I think Jiro is handsome physically? Yeah, very much. Do I think his personality is adorable and cute? Of course! Does that equal me confessing to him? As if!” your friend laughs and leans backwards while holding her stomach “he told me he had no attachment to food or clothing or whatever! Am I supposed to think he can have romantic feelings after that statement?” you exclaim waiting for any type of answer from your friend who only nods along, recognizing you had a point.

#tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker #tdb

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scoonsalicious · 9 months ago

Text

7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

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volklana · 9 months ago

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Cursed Eyes Don't Lie

Request: Could you do something where in season 4 when they're escorting the children, that they encounter a woman on the travels they adopt into their band essentially to help with the children but she despises Sihtric because when he was one of Kjartans men he plundered her village and she never forgot him? Does that make sense and then somehow through all that angst make them fall in love?

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma associated with SA, I do not go into detail at all, it's just alluded to that it happened. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx

For some parts I have replaced things that Eadith did in the show with reader.

It was Finan who had spotted the little flicker of a fire in the distance that he insisted on following, he and Sihtric leading the way until they were brought to the ruins of an old Roman building at the edge of the woods.

They shared an unsure look, with Uhtred who looked to Eadith for reassurance.

“The children are tired, we need rest,” she urged and so he nodded at his companions to proceed.

They crept forward, up along the ridge of the broken ruins to try and decipher how many men were camped inside but to their shock and amusement they could only make out the silhouette of one woman, warming herself beside the fire, completely unaware that she was being watched.

“Just a woman?” Uhtred tilted his head in shock.

“I should go first,” Eadith offered, “If a band of men wander in demanding refuge you may startle her.”

Uhtred nodded in agreement and so Eadith made her way inside the ruins, ensuring to drag her feet a little to announce her arrival.

You swung around dagger in hand ready to attack and paused when she raised her hands in surrender, but not putting down your dagger.

“Please, I am with a group traveling with children, all I ask is that we may share your fire for the night. No harm will come upon you and we will leave at first light in the morning.”

You looked behind her to the small band of warriors and children clinging to their sides.

“I have no provisions or food, but there is a stream, you may wish to bath and collect water from,” you finally relented, placing your dagger back into its sheath around your waist and allowing them to pile in around the heat of the fire, while one of them announced they would try to hunt some food.

Introductions were made and you shared a little of your water with the children, while still remaining a little cautious of the men in the group. Eadith came to sit by your side and she bumped you gently with her arm.

“I know why you are wary. Us women have no choice but to be wary but I assure you these are some of the best men I have ever known, you have no reason to be worried. I promise you.”

“If you had seen the things I had seen lady you would be wary too,” was your only reply but you were reassured enough to loosen your guard.

Eventually as dusk was beginning to turn into the night the last of the men, the Dane Sihtric returned with two rabbits much to the cheer of his friends who immediately set about preparing them to cook while Finan, you had learned was his name, brought more wood to keep the fire going.

You went down to the stream to collect more water to give to the little Aelfwynn who seemed to be struggling the most with the conditions of the road, so much so you had parted with your furs for the night in an attempt to keep her warmer.

Uhtred’s man Sihtric, the Dane was washing his hands and face in the river and so you moved more upstream to collect the water.

You eyed him suspiciously, as he bathed but when he turned to face you, two mismatched eyes set a fire burning in your stomach and before you had time to think your actions through, you flung the animal hide you were using to store water with at him and it connected to his chest with a thud, as you fumbled for your dagger.

Your chest rose and fell in fury as you seethed, and he put his arms up in surrender, face a mixture of terror and confusion.

“You were one of Kjartan’s men, do not deny it!” you spat.

“Lady please,” he begged but made no move to stop you pressing the dagger to his neck.

“You sacked my village. You murdered my family.”

Sihtric’s eyes swam with emotion, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed.

“Please, it was a different life, I had no choice.”

“No I had no choice,” you spat “No choice but to endure while your men took what they wanted from my village and from…me,” you refused to look away at the last part, the shame was on them and not on you and you refused to allow it to shame you now.

“And when I think back on that day I see your eyes. Eyes of the devil looking down on me, leaving me there amongst the burning embers of my life. I swore I would never forget those eyes. I have cursed those eyes and I would have my revenge one day.”

There were tears in the Danes' eyes and you did not care.

“Then have your revenge, I won’t try to stop you. But know this,” he pleaded “I never willingly served Kjartan a day in my life, all I did was to survive his cruelty. He killed my mother, he would have killed me too had I not proven myself useful as a warrior but I never ever relished in destruction. And I never forced myself upon any woman, not then, and not now and I have served Lord Uhtred faithfully, especially since he killed my father.”

You cocked your eyebrow in curiosity and Sihtric sighed.

“I am Kjartan’s bastard,” he spat “And the world is a better place for him not being in it.”

You hated yourself for loosening your hold on the dagger ever so slightly, but Sihtric made no move to escape, “I am sorry for what you have endured at the hands of the men I was with, and for my part in it. I will receive punishment in whatever way you see fit.”

You pushed the knife further into his skin again, watching a trickle of blood run down his neck to his collarbone and disappearing under his vest, tears pooling in your own eyes.

“I’ve waited for this day for years. Night after night remembering those eyes, imagining what I would do when I had you in my grasp, it is what kept me going all these years, and now I’m here and I can’t do it. I can’t do it,” you cried, dropping your dagger at your feet.

You stood facing each other for an eternity, chests rising and falling, looking into each other’s eyes, before Sihtric knelt down before you, “On Thor’s hammer I offer you my protection for as long as you will allow it. Travel with us, the road is no place for a woman on her own and I will never allow any wrong to fall upon you at the hands of another man again. This I swear until you release me.”

You examined those two mismatched eyes once again, ones that had many moons ago offered you his hand and pulled you from the table you were hiding under, pressing an apple into your hand as he gathered the few possessions he had plundered, and watching you with sad eyes before he mounted his horse.

“Coward,” you had roared after him, in the midst of your burning village, but now it was you who was the coward.

You considered him carefully, and could see that he was sincere.

“I accept the offer of your protection. But make one unwanted move on me and I will have your balls for earrings,” you promised.

He couldn’t help but smile as he rose, and you ordered him to pick up the discarded hide of water to bring back to the camp, which he hastily fumbled for.

“And the curse?” he shouted trying to catch up to you.

“Remains until I see fit to lift it,” was all you offered, not giving him the chance to fall in step with you.

“What happened to your neck?” Finan asked as you walked back together.

“Ah, must have nicked in on a branch,” Sihtric dismissed but Finan warily eyed the dagger on your waist, and you cocked an eyebrow in challenge but thankfully he let it go.

You tossed and turned but could not find sleep. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see were Sihtric’s eyes. Those mismatched eyes you had grown so accustomed to hating. Sympathetic eyes, pulling you from your hiding place of fear and smoothing you down but making no attempt to force himself on you. And accepting eyes as you held a dagger to his throat, willing to allow you to hurt him, this made you feel more conflicted than you had in years.

Sihtric in turn could not sleep. He had earned two black eyes and a swollen lip once Tekil had informed Kjartan that he had refused to take his turn with you, but he could never admit that to you now. You had said you had cursed his eyes and maybe you had, Sihtric was no fool, he had seen the damage a curse could cause, maybe his curse was to have found the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and never be granted the opportunity to earn her love. To see her but never to touch or hold.

The next morning Finan woke everyone up and the scramble to collect everything began.

Sihtric was by your side in an instant as the camp made to leave.

“She comes with us,” he announced, causing Finan and Uhtred to step toward him in bewilderment, “She comes with us. She comes with me.” was all he offered in terms of explanation and began walking, to which you simply followed behind.

Life on the road the next few days were a blaze of walking as far as possible in the light and hunkering down for the night wherever Uhtred deemed safe. Finan and Sihtric always took the nightwatch whilst you and Eadith tended to the children. Little Athelstan had taken a real shine to you, always opting to sleep by your side or holding your hand in the dark, but by day he only ever wanted to be by Finan’s side.

“Horses!” Uhtred warned and you all took to running. Sihtric grasped your hand in his.

“Keep running,” he urged, pulling you alongside him and you grasped his hand for dear life running as fast as you could. Only halting when you nearly fell into the lake with bodies of the dead from the sickness, Sihtric gripping you to stop you falling in.

Deciding against Sihtric’s suggestion to swim through, you had no option but to surrender to Eardwulf and his men’s approach, Sihtric ushered you behind him, one hand in front of you in an attempt to protect you.

“Protect the children with your lives,” Uhtred commanded as Eardwulf’s men dismounted their horses and you reached for your dagger, while Sihtric gave his own dagger to Athelstan.

As Edith revealed the truth of her brother’s treachery and he fled away into exile, Sihtric once again took your hand in his, squeezing it gently three times, for reassurance.

At Wollerton, you found horses and provisions for the next part of your journey, Eadith and Osferth were to remain with Aelfwynn, to try keep her alive, and Young Uhtred and Sihtric were to find Aethelflaed, you lingered awkwardly for a moment having received no orders.

“You will ride with me?” Sihtric announced but it was more like a question, and you nodded, before mounting his horse and he climbed on behind you. You were both awkward with the proximity, you wanted to put more space between you two but Sihtric’s strong arms encased you and in the end you had to relent to the fact that you could not escape his touch.

“Woah,” Sihtric jolted forward to catch you, it had been hours worth of riding and you hadn’t felt yourself falling asleep, but Sihtric caught you before you fell from the horse.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay I’ve got you,” he shushed “We will rest soon I promise, but lay your head back on me, that way you can close your eyes and I’ll keep a stronger hold on you,” and even though you didn’t want to, exhaustion overruled and you obeyed as his left arm locked around your waist.

He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart and for a long time he wouldn’t allow himself to look at your peaceful face, but when he did his breath caught in his throat and he had to force himself to look ahead again.

When you finally caught up to Aethelflaed and Sihtric relayed the news, you were almost dead on your feet.

Sihtric agreed to take Aethelflaed to where Osferth and Eadith were caring for Aelfwynn, and you delayed a moment.

“Leave me here,” you urged, “I will slow you down.”

“No,” Sihtric shook his head furiously, “I will not leave without you.”

“Sihtric,” you sighed.

“No y/n I am sworn to you and I will not abandon you. Where you go, I go.”

You knew him just well enough to know you were not going to win this battle so reluctantly you climbed back onto his horse.

When you finally reached Aegelesburgh to the news that Uhtred was to be named the Lord of Mercia, Sihtric went to go drinking with Finan and Osferth, but you went to catch some sleep. Promising you would meet him in the alehouse afterwards.

You arrived to a very solemn, very quiet group of soldiers, lamenting the fact that Uhtred had given up his chance to rule Mercia. Stiorra moved up a space to allow you to sit beside Sihtric and he bumped you reassuringly with his shoulder despite his sour mood. Finan returned with two jugs of ale and Eadith and you all settled into a heavy night of drinking. So much so that when the time came to depart for bed Osferth was sick outside and you were unsteady on your feet, so much so that you had linked arms with Finan while he sang some merry tune. Sihtric could not deny the fiery jealousy that was burning in his stomach as he watched you walk ahead.

He watched you throw your head back in laughter as the Irish man spun you around, “I’m going to slip,” you giggled and the sound was devastating to Sihtric, he would never make you laugh like that, and you would never allow yourself to be this carefree around him. Forever, you would be guarded and wary of him. That was the real curse.

He huffed and stormed past you both, refusing a glance at you both and you scoffed “What’s up his arse?”

“Can’t you tell?” Finan laughed “He’s soft on you and in all fairness I’ve been hogging you all night.”

It was like you were sober in that instant. Sihtric was developing feelings for you and you had sworn to hate him forever.

You couldn’t sleep, and you certainly couldn’t stay, so you made up your mind to leave at first light. You would gather enough provisions to make it on your own. Your heart was sad because you had grown accustomed to the company, to Sihtric in particular. His reassuring touches, his gentleness and the way his eyes seemed to always be on your. Those eyes. “Curse those eyes,” you spat but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to mean it.

At first light you began to pack your things together and startled when a gentle knock on your door pulled your focus away from the task.

You opened it fully surprised to see Sihtric standing sheepishly outside.

“We’ve been tasked with escorting the Lady Aelswith safely on her way to Bedwyn- Are you going somewhere?” he asked eyes frantically inspecting the items on your bed.

“I’m leaving, yes.” you answered defiantly.

“Leaving?” he rushed “But where will you go? Why are you leaving? I am sworn to you. We should stay together, no?”

“You are sworn to Lord Uhtred, you go wherever he commands,” you quipped.

“No. No!” he huffed stepping foot into your room before you come stop him, “You can’t leave, where will you go? Back on the road? I won’t allow it!”

“You won’t allow it?” you scoffed “And what on earth makes you think you have any say in what I do or where I go?”

“I have sworn myself to you, on Thor, until you release me, or have you forgotten? Your safety is everything to me. All I have done is try to keep you safe. Can you not see that?”

“If your concern is your oath I release you, there you are free from your bond and I am free to take leave of you,” you turned on your heel and began hastily pushing things into your travel bag.

“You would dismiss me so easily?” Sihtric sounded crestfallen, his mind was scrambling a thousand miles a minute trying to comprehend what was happening and trying to find something, anything to say to make you stay.

“Sihtric, I’m not entirely sure what you think we are to each other. Did you think us friends? Lovers? I never agreed to either of those.”

“So what if I did love you, y/n is that so terrible? I have tried in so many ways to show you that I am not the man you thought I was. But you are intent on hating me forever aren’t you? It’s hopeless, I will always be the heathen who plundered your village to you. Nothing more.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears because it was quite the opposite, you could not hate him.

“It is hopeless,” you repeated, “And you should not be prevailed upon to look at someone you love, who does not love you back every day.”

“Could you,” he looked down at his feet, unable to meet your eyes, “Could you not love me, some day?”

You wanted to burst into tears right there and then, throw yourself into his arms and tell him you loved him already, Sihtric could see your resolve melting and it was enough to spur him on, he took your hand in his and squeezed it three times. You had long suspected he did it to reassure himself more than you and this moment confirmed it.

“Sihtric, how could we ever be?” you cried “Look at how we began. I can’t look into your eyes and promise you that I will never not harbour resentment for what I went through at the hands of your men.”

“And I can never make that up to you, even though I would give my life to do it,” he replied. You sniffled and allowed him to pull you to him as he embraced you tightly.

“Let me go Sihtric,” you mumbled against his skin, “Let me go as I have released you,” he nodded slowly and when you broke apart you noticed there were tears in his eyes.

“I lift my curse,” you nodded, tears falling from your own eyes“Go forward and know that I wish you no more ill.”

Sihtric looked into your eyes for what felt like hours, before finally with a firm nod he departed your room and you briefly considered running after him before making your mind up resolutely to let him go, for his own good.

And so you departed Aegelesburgh before Uhtred’s band had even gathered their belongings to leave.

After you had been walking for hours, you came across a band of Danes, careful to jump off the road and remain among the trees but it was unmistakable, a hoard of Danes were making their way along the road you had just traveled and it did not sit right in your stomach.

“How much further to Winchester?” one of them complained and your stomach dropped.

Uhtred and Sihtric were going to walk right into this trap and without even thinking your actions through you took to running back in the direction you came from, you were hoping against hope you could intercede them and warn them before the Danes got to them. Your heart racing in your mouth with each step, if something happened to Sihtric and you never got to tell him how you felt you would never forgive yourself.

You had lost track of the Danes along the road, but you no longer heard them and that worried you immensely. Still you ran as fast as your legs would allow you. Until you came to the remains of what would have been a camp for the night and you carefully made your way among the trees, you had to cover your mouth with your own hand to stop yourself screaming at the sight in front of you, hanging upside down from a tree was Uhtred, Finan, Osferth, Father Pyrlig and Sihtric. You had to fight the urge to be sick, but they were guarded by two Danes you did not have a hope of defeating alone, so you needed to act quickly, it didn’t help that you could visibly see Sihtric was not doing well and he was in trouble.

Everyone startled at the bloodcurdling scream they heard from within the forest, and when it was followed by another more pained, one of the Danes went to inspect.

You made quick work of him with your dagger, stabbing furiously until you were sure he was dead and then you stole his ax, and silently crept back up to the camp, avoiding the second Dane who ran into the woods calling his friends name.

“Y/n, quickly, go to Sihtric!” Uhtred urged in surprise and you made quick work of the binds tying his hands together, trying your best not to panic as his arms hung limp beside his head, and then you swung wildly at the rope tying his feet, grunting under the strain as Finan shouted words of encouragement, as he fell you grapsed his face in your hands “You’re alright, you’re alright,” you assured but Uhtred shouted for you to release Pyrlig and so you sprung into action while Sihtric attempted to regain composure.

As you were working on Pyrlig, the second Dane returned and you watched Sihtric grapple with him and when you finally released Pyrlig the two of them took him down, Sihtric stabbing wildly until he Dane finally fell.

You made quick work of Osferth, Finan and finally Uhtred.

When all were finally free you ran to Sihtric graping him into your embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you kept repeating while he placed kisses to your head and face, anywhere his lips could land. “It’s alright, I’m alright,” he repeated in between kisses.

But you did not have time to revel in the moment as Uhtred had commanded you all to run, the Danes had Stiorra and you were going to make the journey on foot to Winchester, and so you found yourself hand clasped in Sihtric’s once more running through fields in an attempt to keep up.

Not stopping once until you reached Winchester, but Sihtric never once let go of your hand.

When you volunteered yourself to go in disguise to check on the captives, Sihtric wanted to be sick. If the Danes in Winchester were preparing for a siege you were going to be stuck inside but you were certain on your path.

And you surprised even yourself with the gumption you had found, as the guards cleared you to enter the city.

But it did not take long before you found yourself in Haeston’s hands as you had tried to enter the castle using Eardwulf’s execution as a distraction. The moment he grasped you, you knew you were in trouble.

“What do you want with me?” you cried as he dragged you across the courtyard but you already knew what he wanted, as he pulled you up to the loft of a building and you prayed that you would have no need to use your dagger on him, because you would in a heartbeat.

Thirty days passed under Haeston's control with the city under siege. He tried each night to lay with you for the first two weeks but each night you rebuked him with warnings of gouging out his eyes whilst he slept. He brought you morsels of whatever food he could find and as you weakened, he relished in your lack of strength. He was the worse kind of predator, the one who strikes only when the prey is too weak to defend itself, but you would not allow yourself to become his prey.

But when he frantically came up to grab you, telling you the battle had come, that he did not want to face it, your heart hammered excitedly at the prospect of seeing Sihtric again.

He pulled you along until you finally found your strength lashing out at him until he relented and released you.

“Stay here and you will die,” he spat and you stood fast.

“Die then ungrateful bitch,” he shot before turning his back and fleeing.

You ended up in the midst of the fighting, with only your dagger for protection, but in the chaos you fell and were being trampled on, worsened when both sides shouted for a shield wall. It was Finan who had heard your groans of pain, breaking the shield wall in order to pick you up and carry you to safety.

As soon as the negotiations began Sihtric was by your side, mismatched eyes searching every part of your body for injury.

“My love,” he cried “Oh my love,”

“Sihtric,” you mumbled, allowing him to pull you to him, you hand flew up to trace the scar on his face and you ran your thumb across his lips “Your eyes that I have cursed a thousand times were the only thing that kept me going. Each night I would dream about your eyes and I would find the strength to endure. I was wrong to tell you I could not love you Sihtric, you are the only man I could ever love,” you cried and he shushed you, gently bringing his lips down to meet yours and you whimpered at his gentleness.

That night you stayed with Sihtric. He tended to your wounds with delicate hands and shaking fingers. He was afraid that you were going to disappear at any moment, but he stilled all actions when he felt you begin to cry in his arms.

“My love? Did I hurt you?” he almost shrieked and you shook your head vehemently.

“I was so wrong about you, Sihtric. I feel I’ve been cruel. I shouldn’t have tried to dismiss your feelings back in Aegelesburgh.”

“None of that matters,” Sihtric shushed you, cupping your face in his rough, tattooed hands “What matters is you know how I feel about you, and you know that I am yours for as long as you want me.”

“I want you forever,” you cried, placing your own hands over his, and turning your face to press your lips to the palm of his right hand.

He was gentle laying you down on the bed, pressing sweet wet kisses to every inch of skin that became exposed to him as he undressed you, and you eagerly pulled his clothes until they too were a discarded mess on the floor.

Sihtric’s groans were delicious in your ear and the gentle pace he set, had you gasping for air as he teased you.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you panted and Sihtric’s mismatched eyes, flashed to yours in worry “I reinstate my curse on your eyes,”

“Oh yeah?” Sihtric laughed rolling his hips with a flick that had you gasping.

“I curse them to only love me for all your life,” you grinned, trailing your hands along the sides of his torso.

“In that case I am happy to be cursed love,” he grinned, picking up speed and not relenting until you came apart in his hands, finally reaching his own high as he bit down on your shoulder.

“I will love you from here to Valhalla," he panted "And cursed eyes don't lie,” he chuckled before collapsing down beside you.

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon @acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtricsmut #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #volklana writes

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