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pissholesinthesn0w · 21 days ago

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On This Night, In This Light - Matty Healy x Reader

well, here it is! the long awaited (by mostly me) Christmas party cheating fic. This is the very idea that brought me to tumblr in the first place, looking to find something similar to this scenario that was truly rotting my brain last holiday season. I had been hesitant to even write it because I wanted to do it justice. A lot of work went into this one, it’s my longest piece I have written, and I think I was able to convey what I wanted to. Anyway blah blah I hope you like it. 🎄

also shoutout to everyone who encouraged and helped me with the writing of this!! @theseventyfive, @mattyhealyarmpits, @honeydiveintome, @wreckedandpolemic, @sugar-coat-it & @kate-the1975✊

contains: smut 18+, cheating(ish), unprotected sex, gagging, extremely questionable morals

5.2k words

“I’m so excited for you to meet my family,” Ryan squeezes your leg as he pulls the car into the driveway of his aunt’s house. “Think they’ll like me?” You ask halfheartedly. This was far too much, far too soon. He was never meant to be more than a one night stand; but he was nice enough. Plus, you didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas so this seemed like a decent choice.

“Of course, what’s not to like?” He smiles at you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. You smile back reluctantly, watching as he practically launches himself out of the drivers seat, coming over to the passenger side to open your door for you. You stand up, smoothing down your sweater dress. Your boots crunch against the snow as he slams the door shut and grabs your hand.

“Thank you for coming,” he says. “It will be fun, I promise.” He tells you, pushing a stand of hair behind your ear and planting a kiss on your hand. You smile weakly, hoping you could will yourself to make it through the night. You didn’t want to ruin his Christmas. The both of you look up at the house, a mid century modern home that was very impressive. You knew he came from money, but this?

Before you even get to the front door it swings open, an older woman with short, bright blonde hair and cat eye glasses greets you with a smile. “Ryan! Dear I am so happy to see you! Come in, come in,” she motions the both of you and you follow his lead in the doorway. She wraps her arms around his shoulders enthusiastically, swaying the both of them side to side in a giant hug. Ryan tells him your name and she doesn’t hesitate to give you the same great big hug he’d just given your him. She was very friendly, you thought.

“I’m Denise, so pleased to have you both. Please, take off your coat and shoes, you can put them over here,” she walks over to the coat closet where there were already lots of coats hanging. You wondered how many people would be attending this family dinner, it made you feel a little less out of place knowing it wasn’t super intimate. After pulling off your outerwear, Ryan grabs your hand and you make your way into the kitchen.

You see the counter is full of champagne glasses, half full with a pale amber liquid, the smell of delicious food filling your senses. He picks two up and hands you one, lifting his for a cheers. You oblige, taking it and clinking your glasses together. One sip and wow, you’d never tasted champagne so luxurious. As you made your way to the living area at the back of the house, it became very apparent that his family had money money.

You exchange pleasantries with the members of his family, all warm and welcoming. People were still trickling in as you sat next to your Ryan on the couch, thigh to thigh, as he chatted with his cousins about some sports thing you couldn’t care less about. You mostly just smiled and agreed, as you had nothing to add to the conversation. It was feeling stuffy, you tug on the collar of your sweater, fanning your face. The 2 glasses of champagne you’d had was warming you up from the inside out.

A loud, infectious laugh echos from the front of the house as you hear the screen door creak and slam shut. “Is that fucking Matty?” Ryan stands quickly, all but slamming his glass down on the coffee table. You lift your head with curious eyes to see him. That was his cousin Matty? Your boyfriend had talked about him a few times, but you had never expected him to look like this. He seemed to be the most well dressed of the bunch, wearing a crisp white button up with a black tie and slacks. He was at least a few years older, his gray streaked hair was gelled with his sunglasses pushed back. He looked positively stunning without even trying and suddenly you weren’t sure how you’d make it through this dinner. Matty opens his arms gleefully, wrapping them around Ryan’s shoulder. “Missed ya, mate!” Matty exclaims, rubbing his back. “It’s so good to see you,” Ryan says cheerfully, before looking to you and motioning for you to come over.You scramble to your feet, adjusting your skirt and thigh high socks, all too nervous to approach the two of them. “Matty, this is my beautiful- erm-“ “friend!” You cut him off, nodding as your Ryan introduces you by name to Matty, and he sticks out his hand. Your cheeks flush and heat creeps across your chest as you take his hand in yours; large, calloused and completely sure. You feel his gaze burn into you for a beat before he replies.

“Hello, darling, pleasure to meet you.” You feel his eyes rake over your body and in any other circumstance you’d for sure go home with this guy. But you weren't entirely convinced you would be able to resist, even now.

“Nice to meet you, Matty,” you say, shooting him a sweet smile. You look over to Ryan and he’s beet red, embarrassed. You try to will the thoughts away as Ryan and Matty head towards the kitchen, probably to grab another drink. You watch them leave and cannot shake the feeling that this was going to be a night you won’t forget.

You reclaim your spot on the couch, trying to focus on the small talk within the living room, but your mind wanders elsewhere. Your “friend” rejoins you, alone.

“How’re you feeling?” He whispers into your ear, squeezing your thigh. “Good, I’m good. Everyone is super nice, the house is beautiful,” you tell him. And you mean that, you could already tell this family was genuine and you felt so welcome.

“‘Friend’, huh?,” he laughs nervously but you could tell he didn’t find it funny. You shrug. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You nudge him with your shoulder and he just shakes his head with a sigh. You do feel a pang of guilt in your gut, but you never promised him anything. It’s not your fault he is presumptuous.

You continue in light conversation with some of his family, and your eyes are drawn to Matty as he walks in and sits at the small card table across the room.

You scan the room, trying not to be obvious as you meet his gaze. He takes a drink, looking at you over the rim of his glass with those fucking eyes, half moon and deep brown and wanting. Your cheeks flush and your heart is racing. He made you nervous, too nervous, and the smirk on his face let you know he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

Two could play this game, you thought. You uncross your legs and spread them open slightly, still looking directly at Matty. His eyebrows lift in surprise and he bites his lower lip, shaking his head at you. You watch him finish his drink, Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat.

This called for more champagne, you thought. You excuse yourself from the conversation and make your way over to the kitchen grab a glass, something to calm your nerves. As you grab another glass, you suddenly feel a presence behind you, dark and looming as you turn your head and see Matty standing way too close.

“S’cuse me, darling,” he muttered as he reaches around you to grab a glass. your feet feel glued to the floor, your brain complete mush as you unable to move or speak. You feel the front of him against your back, solid and warm. You smell his cologne, musky and floral mixed with cigarettes on his breath.

“Oh, sorry,” you mutter, taking a step back and accidentally landing on his foot. “Shit- sorry!” You fumble with the glass and almost spill it all over the counter before he grabs your elbow, steadying you.

“You’re good,” he reassures you, giving your arm a squeeze. “Don’t have to be so nervous, love. Not so cheeky now, are you?” You can hear his smirk as he leans down and whispers to you. Heat pools in your lower belly, the condescension dripping in his voice made you want to drop to your knees and-

“I am not nervous, you just startled me,” you say, straightening your posture and shrugging his hand off of you. His eyes bore into yours, a mischievous shade of brown.

He chuckles, raising his hands. “Oi, she’s fiesty.” Your cheeks burn red. “You seem a bit pent up. How’s my cousin treating you, he taking care of you?” He mutters in your ear.

“What? Yeah, we’re friends, I mean,” you sigh. “He’s sweet, super nice, but-“ you taper off, looking over to Ryan. He was nice, just… boring.

“Oh yeah, he’s great,” Matty nods in agreement, taking a gulp of his drink. “Super nice.” You nod in agreement, distracted by the way his white shirt hugged his shoulders, the tie hanging loosely around his neck. “Goin’ out for a smoke, you coming?”

You look at Ryan again, and he’s lost in conversation with his family. He wouldn’t even notice you’re gone, would he?

”Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

— —

The sun has set in the sky as you stand next to Matty, shivering with your hands in your coat pockets. “Should get a better coat, love.” Matty says.

“I have one, just wouldn’t go well with this outfit,” you motion downwards, showing off your short skirt and socks. You thought it may be too much for a family dinner, but now you were glad you wore them. Matty lights his cigarette and blows out the smoke. He looked positively gorgeous in the warm glow of the Christmas lights. You wanted to memorize everything about him, every curve, every shadow.

“Very nice outfit,” Matty chokes out, looking off into nowhere.

“So where’s your girlfriend?” You ask, feeling warm and bold as the alcohol settles into your bloodstream.

Matty sighs, “don’t have one at the moment. On tour, very busy, don’t have much time,” he rattles on, and a wave of excitement fills you.

“No fuck buddies?”

“Nah, been there, done that. Too much work to keep up. Is that what you and him are? Fuck buddies?” He motions toward the house.

You snort, looking down as you play with the hem of your skirt. “No, no. Well, sort of, I guess. Like I said, he’s a nice guy.”

“But he doesn’t fuck you properly?” Matty asks, nonchalantly as he takes another drag from his cigarette, cheeks hollowed. You stare at the red glow and you almost choke on your spit.

“Would you be quiet?!” You half whisper, eliciting a cheesy smile from Matty. “Relax, everyone’s doing their own thing, they’re not paying attention to us. You didn’t answer the question, by the way.”

You exhale. “No, not really.”

“That’s a shame, darling.” Matty drops his cigarette and stomps it into the cement with his boot.

You look in the window behind him, you grab his arm and drag him over to the side of the yard, out of sight.

“Whoa, where you taking me love?” Matty asks playfully, letting you take him where you please.

“You gotta stop calling that unless you want me to fall in love with you, I’m serious,” you shake your head at him, in slight disbelief of the situation you got yourself in.

He laughs and your heart skips a beat. Without thinking, you fall into him, pushing him against the side of the house and crash your lips into his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he runs his hands up your back, returning your kiss with fervor. Heat runs through you as you swallow his moans, trying to keep quiet. “Tryin to shag me in the yard, dirty girl,” he mumbles.

“Not in the yard, what kind of girl do you take me for?” You say, catching your breath.

“A very hot girl,” Matty laughs. He was such a man. “Seriously, what about your erm, friend? Won’t he be upset?”

“Can we not talk about him for five minutes? I should be getting back inside though. He’s going to notice we’re both gone.” You say, rubbing your lip gloss off of his lower lip with your thumb. He grips your hand firmly. and takes your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his soft lips around the digit and you freeze. You have to stop yourself from letting out a moan, because dear god he was so sexy. You feel his tongue swirl around your finger and your knees almost buckle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, eyes wide in disbelief as he pulls your thumb out with a pop. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, adjusting his pants to hide his growing bulge. “That all it takes to get you worked up, huh?” You tease, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your clothing so it doesn’t look like you were just making out with someone.

“So you’re saying if I feel you up under your skirt, your little panties won’t be soaked, sweetheart?” Matty asks casually and doesn’t let you answer. “Back in, let’s go. You go first.”

You don’t have it in you to argue at the moment. You make your way back inside, peeling off your coat and you can hear Ryan’s laugh from across the room, great. He spots you.

“Hey babe!” He practically shouts at you, his loud mouth giving you the feeling he’s quite tipsy already. You smile weakly as you make your way to him. He throws his arm around your shoulder. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” He asks no one in particular as you hear the screen door shut. It was Matty, and all you could do was hope he would just ignore you both. But, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Gorgeous,” Matty chimes in. “How’d you guys meet?” He asks curiously and you want to run away and hide. Instead you take a seat on the empty couch.

“We were in the same lit class, took a few times to get her to agree to go out with me but she finally said yes. Hard to get, this one,” he says and you roll your eyes.

Matty chuckles. “Now look at you, oh to be young and in love.”

“Well-“ you start before Denise calls everyone in for dinner, and you thanked god for it. Ryan grabs your hand and you take your seat at the table. To your dismay, Matty pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you let out a sigh, more dramatic than you intended and Ryan asks if you’re ok.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” you smile. You’re very aware of the way Matty’s boot is touching the side of yours, your nerves alight with the smallest point of contact.

— —

Dinner was great, everything went fine as you all ate, you’d catch Matty’s eye every few minutes and a flood of nerves shot through you, blood rushing hot in your veins. You play with the hemline of your sweater and realize you need a moment to yourself, a moment to breathe without prying eyes on you.

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” You ask Ryan, and he points to the stairs. “Want me to take you?” He asks, running his hand up your thigh and you slap him away.

“No, I can find it. Be back,” you say, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze as you make your way to the staircase. You look over at Matty and he takes a big gulp of his drink, his eyes dark and sinister over the rim of the glass.

You shut the bathroom door behind you and catch yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed pink and your lip gloss was the slightest bit smudged. You feel brazen and peel your underwear off, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to you with your wetness.

There’s a knock on the door and before you can say anything it swings open, Matty standing casually in the hallway. “Hello?” You say, trying to act surprised that he followed you up here.

“Hi, sweets,” he smiles, looking down directly at your soaked panties in your hand. “What do you have there?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe. His lips curve into a smile as he sees you weigh your options for a second before pulling him inside and shutting the door quietly.

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you? Sitting all pretty up here waiting for me while my whole family is downstairs,” he teases, taking a step toward you. “Filthy girl.” He grabs the soaked fabric from your hand and shoves it in his pocket. You shudder, the anticipation growing in your gut as he rolls up the his sleeves, revealing a littering of tattoos.

“Maybe,” you ponder, squeezing your thighs together.

He cages you in, hands on either side of you and presses you up against the wall, his body firm. “Tell me to fuck off, and I will,” he breathes into the shell of your ear before planting a soft kiss on your jawline, causing your knees to buckle underneath you.

“No,” you mutter, and he hums in response, grabbing your hips and digging his fingers in. “Want me to fuck you, sweet girl?” A flood of arousal gushes out of you, thighs turning sticky with your honey. You nod feverishly and Matty falls to his knees, calloused hands run up the backs of your thighs and involuntarily your hips buck forward, ready to give him all of you.

“Can I?” He asks, looking up at you through thick lashes while he plays with the hem of your skirt. “Please, please,” you beg, fighting the urge to grab his head and shove it between your legs. “Been thinking about this since I saw you with these fucking stockings,” he runs his hands up your legs before pushing up your skirt, admiring you for a moment. “Aw, look how wet you are darling, should’ve just said so. Really would’ve fucked you right out on the lawn,” he teases and licks a broad stripe up your center.

You grip onto the side of the sink, letting out a sharp moan that you instantly knew was too fucking loud given the circumstances. “Shh, shh, you’ve got to be quiet, can you do that for me?” Matty asks, littering kisses on your inner thighs. “M’sorry, I’ll be quiet, promise,” you breathe and he dives back in and kisses your cunt before running his tongue along your folds, moaning into you as he tastes you. “Sweet little cunt, I’d be devouring you every single fuckin’ night,” he mumbles, circling his tongue around your swollen bud and giving it a harsh suck before sliding a finger inside of you. “Oh my god,” you grab his shoulders and he pushes your right leg up against the wall to spread you open even more. Your vision goes hazy as pleasure consumes you. He sets a teasing pace as he fingers you, slipping one more in before he curls them just right and he looks to you for your response, smug look on his face that made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing. “Right there?” He asks as he hits that spot inside of you over and over again. Pleasure blooms inside of you as he picks up his pace, filthy wet sounds filling up the bathroom. His mouth is insistent on your clit, alternating between sucking and licking, moaning into you as his fingers never relent.

Your leg underneath you shakes as you struggle to keep yourself upright. “I’ve got you,” he says, pulling out of you and helping you lower your leg, giving your ass a quick squeeze before he is on his feet again, crashing his lips into yours as he pushes you into the wall even more, you can feel him hard against you, straining against his trousers. He runs his hands up back under your sweater and you feel him unhook your bra, a motion you could tell he’d done many times given how easily he got it open. He grabs a handful of your breast, squeezing gently and you sigh, throwing your head back as he rubs his thumb over your peaked nipple. “Off, off,” you breathe as you feverishly pull off your sweater and toss it haphazardly across the bathroom tile. “Beautiful,” he says, admiring you as he kisses your tits. His hot mouth wraps around one nipple, tongue running along your sensitive bud, thumb pinching and tweaking the other. You run toe fingers through his hair, pushing him into you more. His teeth graze your skin and your body jerks, you feel his smile against your flesh.

You snake your hand between your bodies and rub against his bulge, a shuddering breath leaving lips. “Fuck, s’good,” he groans as he moves up to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and some sick part of you hoped it would leave marks.

“I wanna suck you off,” you whisper, pulling his face up to meet yours, licking into his mouth as you continue to rub his hard cock under his pants. He lets out a sharp breath. “Yeah? Gorgeous girl wants to suck my dick? Yeah, ok, get me out, darling,” he looks down as you sink to your knees slowly, eyes about glazed over while you fumble with his belt. “This off too, please, want to see you,” you tug on the bottom of his shirt and he obliges, unbuttoning each button with nimble fingers while you watch. He shrugs off his shirt and your jaw drops, his inked skin and making him even more attractive than he was before. He was lean but fit, tight muscles and the littering of hair below his navel shot heat right through you.

You trace the outline of his hip tattoo, a beautiful blue rose that read we are kings.

“Look at you,” you say under your breath, quickly losing focus of the task at hand. He threads his fingers through your hair and he undoes his buckle with one hand. You pull his pants and underwear down in one go and his cock springs free; thick, tip red and leaking and just beautiful. You never thought you would say that about a man’s dick but it just made sense, it matched the rest of his body.

“Shh, shh, here- open up,” he ruts forward and rubs his length against your cheek and your eyes flutter closed. He taps the head of his cock against your lips and you oblige, letting him enter your warm and waiting mouth. He felt warm and heavy on your tongue, the velvety skin sliding in and out as you bob your head on his length. “Fuck, baby, feels s’good,” he moans, looking down at you in awe. This is definitely not what he expected to happen tonight. You hum around him at the sweet praise, swallowing every bit of precum he gives you. You take a deep breath through your nose before you take him deeper, surpressing a gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, your nose pressing against his dark hair.

The groans leaving his lips make you woozy, forgetting everything in that moment as all you want to do is make him feel good. You look up at him with tears brimming your lash line, and what a view, you thought. His hair was disheveled, his sweat sheened skin flushed pink, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tries not to spill down your throat.

You lift off and wrap your hand around him, slick with your spit as you stroke him. You touch his balls with your other hand, massaging them at the same time. “Perfect girl,” he coos at you, admiring your fucked out face and heaving chest. “I want you,” you sigh, eyes wide and innocent as you look up at him.

“Want me to fuck you? Yeah? How do you want me?” You turn around to bend over and rest your arms on the sink, grinding your ass against him with a sway of your hips. You can see him admiring you in the mirror, running his finger through your wetness. You shudder at the feeling, being so vulnerable for what was essentially a complete stranger; but you felt safe with him.

Matty reaches down into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out a shiny condom package.

“Wait, I-“ you pause. “I’m on the pill, in case you just want to,-“

Matty lets out a deep sigh, the thought of being inside of you and feeling you making his heart beat out of his chest. “Yeah, ok sweet girl.” His voice is soft, bent over and breathing in your ear, searching your eyes in your reflection for confirmation.

“Please,” you breathe, every ounce of shame has vanished from your body at this point. All you could focus on was feeling him inside of you, all of him.

“Please, please fuck me, I need it” you babble mindlessly. Matty runs his tip along your folds, nudging against your aching clit and finally starts to push in. The stretch was all consuming; pain mixed with pleasure that seemed to separate your mind from your body. You held onto the sink like your life depended on it, the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“That’s it,” Matty praises as he pushes in more, all the way until you’re completely enveloping him. “Perfect fit, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me” he whispers, hands running along the curve of your ass as he grabs a handful of flesh, kneading it. “Fuck, Matty,”

“You’ve got to stay quiet, yeah?” You nod your head, mouth hanging open as he fucks into you. Matty stills inside of you, a loud burst of laughter from downstairs reminds you exactly what you were doing.

He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. “Matty, what-“ you see him stand back up with his black tie in his hand. “I can’t have you moaning and groaning, sweetheart,” he states plainly, crumpling the fabric into a ball. “Here, it’s for your own good,” he holds it up to your lips and you open. He shoves his tie into your mouth and you groan, now muffled by the fabric. Your eyes are wide as you nod at him, breathing through your nose.

He lines himself up and pushes all the way in with sharp thrust, you clench around him as he starts to move, his fingers digging into your hips. “Don’t think your little boyfriend would like this, would he?” He spits, venom dripping from his tongue. “Little slut needed a real man to rail her in the bathroom at his family Christmas party, god you’re fucking filthy,” he groans on and you’re rendered speechless; half from the tie in your mouth and half from his dirty words and his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you. Normally his inflated ego would turn you off, but something about it coming from him just spurred you on even more. Unlike most men you’ve been with, he was able to back it all up. You nod feverishly at him, admiring his reflection in the mirror, cheeks and chest flushed pink and pupils blown wide with lust.

Matty leans forward, his chest to your back and brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing mind numbing circles over your swollen bud as he continues to split you in half with his relentless thrusts, hips slamming into you. You can’t hold back your moan, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock. “You like that?” Matty asks, already knowing the answer as your eyes cross from pleasure, pressure building in your lower belly with every stroke of his fingers. The fabric in your mouth was all but dripping down your chin, not doing much now to quiet the noises he was drawing out of you.

“You gonna cum around my cock, darling? C’mon, milk me with this tight little cunt, that’s right,” he grunts into your ear and that’s what throws you over the edge completely; white hot pleasure consuming you, vision blurry as your mind goes completely blank, waves of euphoria pulsing through your body. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Matty grunts, face crumpled and pained as he swiftly pulls out of you to stroke himself, abs tense he cums all over your ass, white ropes painting your soft skin. You arch your back and push up into him, him squeezing the remnants of his orgasm out, slapping his softening dick against your cunt.

You spit out his tie, the sopping fabric landing in the porcelain sink. “Oh my fucking god,” you breathe, trying your best to not collapse into the floor, your body completely drained. “You’re unreal.” Matty is looking at you, his lips curling into a soft smile and you feel a pang in your stomach. Was it guilt, or something else?

“Here, let me clean you up,” Matty says, pulling up his pants and putting himself away. You watch as he grabs a hand towel from the closet and runs it under warm water. Ryan never did this for you, you thought.

“How are we going to get out of this, exactly?” You ask, somewhat rhetorically. Matty just chuckles, wiping the warm towel over your bottom. “Stop doing all that thinking, darling. I hate it when you do that,” he says playfully, pulling your skirt back down. You stand back up straight, all of a sudden feeling insecure just standing with your tits hanging out. He hands you your bra and sweater.

“Relax, bet he didn’t even notice we’ve been gone,” he says confidently, but you weren’t so sure. You had no idea how long it had actually been.

“I think I should just leave, I’ll tell him I’m not feeling good. I’ll get an Uber home.” You tell Matty. It was true, you really weren’t feeling super great about what you’d just done. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret it, because it really was just that good.

“How about this,” Matty says, digging his car keys out of his pocket. “Take these, go out the side door and wait for me in my car. I’ll say my goodbyes downstairs and I can drive you home. Trust me, Ryan’s got to be so piss drunk by now he won’t even realize. He’s always like this at family gatherings.”

”Ok, yeah, sure. Thanks,” you grab his keys from him, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close. “Least I could do, love” he says before he takes your head in his hand and kisses you gently, butterflies swirling in your stomach at his tenderness. A far cry from the way he was fucking you just 5 minutes ago.

“I told you, stop calling me that unless you want me to fall in love with you, Matty,” you exasperate, pulling your boots back on.

“Maybe I do.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy #matty healy smut #the 1975 #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann

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aprillikesthings · 6 months ago

Text

I bitched and moaned about how hard it is to write, and then nearly 900 words fell out into the google doc.

Ffs. Why am I like this.

ANYWAY this is like, multiple chapters ahead of the chapter I should be working on, and it's from my late 1960's au, and it's Catra hitchhiking from somewhere vaguely midwestern-ish to San Francisco

And yes, I had to google "when did 'family' become slang for gay people" for this bit lol

(Nothing bad happens to her other than uhhhh a bit of nasty name-calling from a trucker when she turns him down for a ride)

(usual disclaimers: this is first draft and could end up heavily edited by the time it's on ao3)

Catra packs her bag as quickly as she can. A wool blanket. A couple pairs of underwear. A couple of tee shirts. The paisley scarf she’s been wearing in her hair. She only has the one pair of jeans, it’ll have to do. The tiny amount of weed under her mattress and the few rolling papers she has left, plus her cigarettes and matches. After a bit of internal debate she puts on a bra–and tucks her wallet into it. Not that there's much money in it.

She doesn’t leave a note. How long will it even take for them to notice she’s gone?

It takes two buses to get to the highway out of town, and she sticks her thumb out.

Her first ride was some younger teenagers, who got her to the edge of the suburbs. She used the bathroom at the gas station and stood at the onramp to put her thumb out again. Her next ride was a trucker, and she hesitated at first but he had kind eyes and said, “Miss, I promise I’m not gonna to do any harm to your person, I just like havin’ some company.” He was true to his word, and didn’t even ask her name. He listened to country music and he tried to ask her where she was going and why, but she deflected and asked him questions about himself. Turns out he had a wife and kids at home. (I should write out the conversation)

The way he talked about them made something in Catra’s chest hurt, at the same time she could’ve listened to the love in his voice all day.

Nobody ever talked about her that way.

He drove her for two whole states and didn’t mind when she passed out asleep, and even insisted on paying for her breakfast the next day. “If you were my daughter, I’d hope someone would take care of you. I can tell you have a kind heart, you know. I’m sure you’ll help someone else, when you can.” Catra wasn’t able to stop the tears fast enough over her diner coffee and pancakes, and he was nice enough to pretend not to notice them as he smoked a cigarette.

But he had to sleep himself and then he was going north, and so he left her behind at a gas station just before the California border.

It took longer to get a ride this time, and it was hot enough that the horizon shimmered in the sun.

The first person to offer her a ride was another trucker, but the way he leered at her made her stomach turn, and she shook her head and walked away from his truck.

“Hippie bitch! So much for free love, huh?” A few people stared and her face burned. She tried to go back into the gas station just for the little bit of air conditioning, but the woman behind the counter looked up from her magazine and said, “If you’re not going to buy anything, you can’t be in here.”

And so Catra stood on the onramp again, thumb out, hoping to get a ride before she died of heat stroke.

A half an hour later a little pale blue sedan pulled over. Another older man. But he smiled at her.

“San Francisco, huh? Going to the summer of love are we, honey?” But he said “honey” the way the diner waitress said it, so with a quick silent prayer she got in.

“You poor thing, it’s so hot outside. I bought a couple of Cokes, and one of them should still be cold, if you want it.”

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it!”

It was the best-tasting thing she’d had since that diner breakfast. Finally refreshed a little, she looked over at him. He had a silk scarf around his neck as a tie of sorts, and his clothes were as immaculately neat as his car, even in the heat.

“So, uh, are you going to the summer of love, too?”

“Oh, no!” He laughed, but not in a mean way. “No, I live there. I’ve just been visiting some…family.” He said that last word oddly.

He looked at her in sideways glances. “Hm. Speaking of which. Are you…Oh gosh. I don’t know the way young people say this anymore. But are you family, yourself?”

Catra looked at him with confusion. “What?”

He cleared his throat and his face turned pink. “Now, I don’t know whether this will reassure you or not, in regards to your safety. But while you’re a lovely young lady; I, shall we say, have no interest in women. If that bothers you, I can let you off at the next gas station.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine.” Then his words sunk in. “You’re gay?”

He glanced at her again, then took a deep breath. “To my mother’s chagrin, yes; I’m a homophile.” He was smiling again, but it was strained. “Is that a problem for you?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “I am, too.”

His smile became wider and far more genuine. “I knew it! I knew you were family.”

“What!! How?”

“Just a vibe, honey. We often know our own.”

Catra relaxed into the bench seat and laughed. “You’re only, like, the third person I’ve ever told.”

“Really? Well, I feel honored!”

[Author's note: As far as I can understand from what I read, "homophile" was the preferred term by a lot of people for several decades. "Homosexual" was sometimes disliked because it was used as a diagnosis of mental illness, back when it was thought you could cure it--it also reduced our orientations to just sex as opposed to romantic love that included sex. By the late 1960's it wasn't quite as popular, "gay" becoming the preferred term, but some older people and organizations still used it.

Also as of right now, at this point in the story, the other people who Catra's told are Scorpia (because she came out to Catra first) and Entrapta.]

#april writes

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lemonnbug · 2 years ago

Text

Part 5

Dmitri x plus size reader

Warnings: smut. Fingering, public-ish sex (its so illegal pls never do it lol), also I have no idea when battery powered fairy lights were invented and I don't care enough to keep researching lol. Proofreading isn't on the itinerary today.

You fiddle with the wide sleeves of your top, nervously watching the clock mounted to the wall behind you, its hands slowly tick tick ticking down to closing time. Delores is in the employees office, you'd convinced her to close up for you so you wouldn't have to, not wanting to make Dmitri wait around when he shows up. Dmitri. A fresh wave of nerves wash over you. You'd spent an extra half hour primping in the mirror that morning, trying to get your hair just so and your makeup barely there, opting for a rose petal pink lip and a little blush on your nose and cheeks. It wasn't a lot by most people's standards, but it was a helluva lot more than you'd normally wear to work.

"You look like Jezebel." Delores had remarked when you came in that morning, eying your too-tight and probably too-short skirt from behind her spectacles.

Truth be told you were a little worried you'd gone overboard, teetering too much on sexy librarian, that he'd be surprised, and not in a good way. That isn't to say you didn't still have high hopes for the night. Sylvia had happily agreed to be out of the house, just in case "You two become allied forces." Hey, he can call me comrade for all I care, if that's what it takes. You'd lotioned and perfumed and soaked the night before. You wanted, no, you needed to get laid.

The clock strikes eight and you're pulled from your thoughts as Dmitri walks through the door. Well, he's very punctual.

"Hi," you beam at him, your confidence coming back as you see the way his eyes roam over your body, "let me just tell Delores I'm heading out." He nods, not shy about the way he watches you walk away. When you come back from the office you spot him pulling at the hem of his short sleeved button-up, abruptly stopping when he sees you. Huh, so he's nervous too. I don't know if that's comforting or concerning.

"Ready?" He extends his arm out to you with a smile. I am not turned on right now. I am not turned on right now. I am NOT turned on right now. "Yep," you reply, although, it embarrassingly comes out as more of a squeak.

"Sooooo," you draw out as he leads you out of the library and then, arm in arm, mind you, like some Jane Austen novel, the two of you start walking down the sidewalk, "where are we going?"

"Ah, it's a secret, you see." He answers with a grin.

"Oh, is it now?"

"Well, sort of," he continues, "at least for the next five minutes."

You're smiling like an idiot. You know you are, but you can't help it. With one hand pressed to your flushed cheek and the other still wrapped around his arm, which feels amazing, btw, you are utterly and completely smitten.

"Normally," Dmitri says, looking a bit apologetic, "I would have made a nice meal, lit some candles and such." Oh my god, he cooks? "But, there is nothing to cook on nor with where I'm staying right now, so, I thought this might be nice. But I'm now realizing it's probably stupid and we should have just gone to a restaurant or -" You place a hand on his shoulder, stopping his rambling and getting him to look at you. "Are you kidding? This," you gesture in front of you towards the date he had prepared: a picnic basket atop the very table you were sitting at when he had asked you for your number, in between two glass jars full of twinkling lights. "This is really sweet, Dmitri. It's thoughtful." God I wanna kiss him. "Alright, I believe you." He concedes, pulling you towards the table to sit down while he sits opposite you, opening the basket.

"I didn't know if you like carbonara or alfredo," he says, pulling out take-away pastas and wax-paper wrapped breadsticks, "so I got both." He continues emptying the basket, pulling out clear Chinet plates, cups and cutlery, along with two Fantas. "No worries, I like them both." You can't help but smile as he serves both of you, the fact that you're here with him still slightly hard to believe.

"Good," he hands you a fork before leaning back to survey the spread, "because you're taking any leftovers." You raise your hands in mock surrender, "Hey, you won't hear an argument from me."

You make small talk while eating, the usual "Do you have any siblings? Any hobbies? Favorite band and or singer?" to which your answers were

"Yes, a brother out in Beverly Hills. Does bingo count as a hobby? And The Beach Boys." and his were

"No. Baking when he has the time (HE BAKES TOO?). And Johnny Cash."

"So," you absentmindedly swirl your fork through the bit of pasta left on your plate, "what's Russia like?

Shit, shouldn't have asked that.

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "It's...cold. And grey. Bone chillingly cold. At least where I was station- um, where I was staying." He picks at the table, an indiscernible look on his face. "It isn't the nicest place to live at the moment."

You feel bad for asking, you hadn't been thinking when the question tumbled out. You read the papers like everyone else, had a decent idea of how suffocating it must be living there, having to live under that type of surveillance and control. You just had to bring it up, didn't you? Your grandmother's words about how you tend to run men off echo in your ears.

"How are you liking California so far?"

That seems to do the trick, pulling him back from wherever his mind had gone, his eyes flickering up to yours as his smile grows. "I'm liking it very much." He says, taking a sip of his drink. "It's so warm here, I've had to buy a whole new wardrobe because of it." You both laugh at this, the tension having completely lifted. "And everyone here is so friendly. Well, until they hear my 'accent'." Oh yeah, I'm sure women just run away when they hear it.

"Not all of them, no."

You look up from your plate, eyes wide and face burning, "Did I say that out loud?" He nods, an amused smirk pulling at his lips.

"Whoops."

After you sat for a bit and talked, you'd ended up walking back to the library to put the date stuff in your backseat and drove to the movie theater, Dmitri telling you about which ones were playing.

You had decided on Making Mr Right, a romantic comedy with one of your favorite actors. You try to push away and counter all of the inappropriate thoughts running through your head. I'm in a dark theater with him, yes but the ushers will probably be by soon. He's sitting so close our arms are touching, well where else is he supposed to sit? We could start making out and no one would know, yes but your mouths probably taste like pasta and buttered popcorn. That might add to it. You're right, self, it actually just might.

You're pulled from your thoughts by Dmitri quietly chuckling at a scene in the movie, the robot having a less than desired first meeting with the main character. It was lewd but funny. The movie plays out in a way you weren't expecting, at various points throughout you weren't sure who'd end up with who, halfway through you still weren't sure, but it was pretty good. And you'd be lying if you said John Malkovich wasn't pretty as hell in it, although not nearly as pretty as your date.

What if we reach for popcorn at the same time?

SHUT UP BRAIN. Just watch the movie. You keep your hands in your lap, now worried about accidentally touching his hand. Which is insane, you think to yourself, a sex dream is fine, but we draw the line at buttery hand brushes?

"You alright?" Dmitri asks in a whisper, the light from the screen reflecting in his eyes. God, he's beautiful. Those eyes, so easy to get lost in. Those lips. MY GOD THOSE LIPS. I could write poetry about those lips. Might not be good poetry, but still. You realize you haven't replied, a blush creeping over your cheeks when you look up only to find that he's now looking at your lips, and then, in what feels like slow motion, he leans forward.

….

��.

….

Oh my god I've forgotten how to breathe.

The kiss is, what's a good way to explain it.. World ending, earth shattering, panty dropping. All three at once. His lips are soft against yours, barely moving as you melt into it, literally melting into it, leaning into him. He pulls away after what feels like a blessed eternity, smirking when he sees the stupid grin spreading across your face.

"You shouldn't look at me like that if you don't want to get kissed." He whispers, his deep voice sending a shiver through your body.

"Who said I don't?" You reply boldly, damn girl, good for you, watching as he raises one eyebrow in surprise before shifting in his seat, moving to place the half empty popcorn tub on the ground as he turns his body towards you. "Is that so?" He asks, his hand coming to cup your cheek, letting his thumb ghost over your bottom lip as you nod.

Welp, I don't know if this'll be sexy, but here goes.

You part your lips slightly, letting your tongue dart out to slowly lick at his thumb before closing your lips again, leaving a wet kiss. Any questions of whether or not he liked that are swept away by the soft groan he lets out, heaving a shuddering breath as he quickly leans forward again, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You moan into his mouth and before you know it his hands are trailing down the sides of your body, over the curve and dip of your hips and down to your thigh, letting his fingertips graze the skin along the hem of your skirt, the other coming to rest on the back of your neck as yours is against his jaw, feeling an embarrassing amount of wetness start to pool between your legs.

His hand snakes under your dress and trails upwards, squeezing and kneading the doughy flesh of your thighs as he goes. He breaks aways from the kiss and looks at you, really looks at you. "Is this okay?" He questions, both of you breathing heavily.

I mean, it's technically illegal but yeah, absolutely. You quickly nod, desperate to have his lips back on yours and his hand wherever the hell he intended to put it.

He grins before kissing you again, no doubt amused by your eagerness, his fingers inching their way further up your thighs before they reach your clothed mound.

Your legs part, giving him better access as the pads of his fingers run along the fabric, coming to rub circles over the wet spot already forming. You're lost in how good it feels, your hips slightly rocking forward as he presses down with each rub of his fingers, drinking in your moans. You feel him toying with the side of your panties, "And this?" He mumbles against your lips, not continuing on until you let out a breathy "Yes." Trying to hold back a whine as he slips his hand under them and drags his fingers through your folds. Holy shit this is happening. His thumb rubs at your pearl, grinning against your lips at the way your hips jerk towards his touch, before sliding two fingers down through your soaked folds and starts gently prodding at your entrance, letting out a deep, guttural moan when he feels how easily your slit lets them slide in, enveloping them in your tight heat. He pumps them in and out slowly, curving upwards on the way out to brush against a sensitive spot, sending a current of pleasure through you. Shit, I didn't even know that was there. The telltale pressure starts building, like an ember growing deep in your belly as you feel your release getting closer and closer, your walls fluttering around his digits. Panic floods over you as you see a flashlight beam slowly ascending the steps to your right, every fiber of your being sending off alarm bells and sirens. "Stop, Dmitri," you quickly whisper, trying to sit up straighter as he pulls his hand back, looking at you concerned until he spots the light as well, reaching over to smooth your skirt down you'd forgotten to.

The usher makes it to the top step and eyes you both suspiciously, the beam of light landing on the discarded tub of popcorn and then back to where you two sit, before begrudgingly walking away.

"Well," Dmitri whispers, his chest rumbling with poorly suppressed laughter, "that was close." Yeah pal, so was I. "Tell me about it." You say, feeling that sweet release slip further and further away, the meeting of your thighs pitifully damp. "So," he says, smirking at you, "should we finish the movie, or finish this at your place?" Holy mother of pearl, you think to yourself as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks your arousal off of them, playfulness and lust sparkling in his eyes.

Well, fuck me.

Authors note: Sorry this chapter took so long! I swear it was not supposed to get steamy in this chapter but here we are lol. And a big thanks to my dear friend Lilah for helping me with the Chinet research and to @starjones-on-ao3 for help with the music info lol. Reblogs and feedback are so very appreciated! :) also I only edited this once so I apologize if there's a lot of mistakes 😅

#california girls fic #dmitri antonov #dmitri x plus size reader #dmitri x plus sized reader #dmitri stranger things #tom wlaschiha #stranger things #plus size representation #plus size reader

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years ago

Text

↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: y/n pinning them against a wall - prompt inspired by this twitter post

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: kuroo x f!reader + sakusa x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: kuroo - 1000+ sakusa - 900+

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, aggressive behaviour-ish.

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: I’ll be doing this prompt for Osamu, Akaashi and Yaku too soon ~ I just like it a bit too much haha. also I edited this 3 times so if there are still errors, I am sorry pls ignore. lmao.

Kuroo Tetsurou

A low rhythmic hum vibrated inside of your throat, to accompany the track playing from your phone. Those who were fortunate enough to catch the melody trailing along with you, would often find a smile on their face. Between the tranquility of the sound and the bliss warping into your aura – your presence accidentally had an impact on many. Those in your university only knew you as the kind singer who would offer sincere smiles, free of cost. It was a reputation you did not mind adhering to – maybe it was better that they did not see the darker shades that coloured your soul. So, generally, a smile would remain sewn into your visage – unwavering until you were within the safety of your home. Where you could release the other parts of you that were deemed “not school friendly.”

Though, today your calculated barrier between the two worlds would disintegrate, due to the careless words of your best friend, Kuroo Tetsurou.

Upon reaching the corner that would connect you to the hallway where your class room was situated, you plucked out an earbud and placed it back into its case. Since this was a course you shared with Kuroo, the two of you held an uncommunicated agreement to wait for the other before entering the room. The thought of your close friend twisted a knot inside of your chest with threads of adoration, excitement and hope. It was quite clear that your relationship was not merely platonic. The issue was that neither of you had initiated the first step to test the boundaries.

But you would try today. You would try after class.

“So, what’s going on between you and l/n?”

Hearing your last name, you paused before switching hallways. How many other l/n’s were at the university? It was certainly a conversation about you.

So the question was, who was the one posing the question, and who was the one about to answer it?

“We’re just friends.”

Okay. Easy. That was Kuroo.

The nonchalance laced into his answer fueled the flame igniting in the pit of your stomach, yet you continued to conceal your presence from the pair.

“So you don’t mind if I ask her out?”

“It’s not my place to say anything.” Even without a visual, you knew your best friend would have added a shrug to accompany the statement. Somehow, that irritated you more.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped past the corner for your grand reveal. “Hi there, boys. You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Tetsurou for a second, would you?”

Your sudden emergence had startled Kuroo, but what had his chest constricting was your use of his first name and the hallow laugh that was spilling from your lips.

“Uh, sure…”

It took you a second to realize who the other male was – he was an acquittance of yours, one you shared two classes with. One who was mostly forgettable not due to a lack of charm, but solely because he wasn’t Kuroo.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Curling your fingers around your best friend’s wrist, you dragged him down the hallway, not caring for the confused glances thrown into your direction by those around you. When you reached the area between the staircase and corridor, you gently pushed him against the wall before placing both of your palms on either side of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you were quick to drown out his voice with your own.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Just friends? That’s bullshit.” The concoction of emotions weaving into your bloodstream had given you a headrush. But at the center of the varying feelings was fear. Because you wanted more than a friendship, and you were about to risk your entire relationship for that desire. You tried to suppress it, but over time it became overwhelming. And now – his words had awoken something inside of you. Something you could not contain.

The black-haired male blinked down at you, his irises moving from your arms walling him in, to the death glare your eyes were partaking in. “Isn’t that what we are, y/n? Friends?”

Out of the options available to him, Kuroo had selected the one for a coward. Or perhaps, he was testing you. Either way, your irritation with him had increased tenfold.

“Fuck you.” Lowering your hands on either side, you stepped away from him before turning back into the direction of your class.

“I wasn’t done yet.” A sigh left his mouth as he caught your wrist with his hand, tugging you towards him. Once your back aligned with his chest, he repositioned his arms to curl around your stomach. Heat spread throughout your entire body, and you were unsure whether it was from your anger or due to his close proximity. “We are friends, y/n. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more. You’re right, it is bullshit. But I can’t exactly go around telling everyone in the school that I’m in love with you, now can I?” Feeling you become incredibly still in his arms, he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss against your head. “But if I had known you would get that pissed off so easily, I would have said something stupid earlier. Because pinning me against the wall – that was hot.”

“Shut up.” Breaking away from his hold, you spun around to face him. A half smirk was tugging at his lips, one that communicated how much he enjoyed the situation. “You are horrible. What would you have done if that guy asked me out and I said yes? Hm?”

“I’d probably cry and then say on to the next one!” To further instigate you, he dipped an eyelid into a wink.

“Really. Horrible.” With your passion deflating, exhaustion crept into your muscles, bringing a groan to sound. “Let’s just get to class.”

“Nuh huh. We can ditch one class. Plus, you still haven’t said it back.” Tilting his head, he proceeded a step forward to close the distance once more. He then tapped on your chin, allowing your gazes to connect.

Inhaling a deep breath, a faint smile was presented towards him.

“I love you too, idi-.”

The remaining half of the insult did not leave your mouth, rather it was replaced with a muffled protest as Kuroo gently caught your lips with his. As you tried to break the exchange, he tangled his fingers in your hair, keeping you secure against him, before mumbling.

“That’s boyfriend to you.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

The repetitive interaction between the laminated flooring and the leather training balls had resulted in a dull ache in your temples. As the manager of a professional volleyball team, you were well accustomed to the noise but today, your patience was running thin. Practice had officially ended two hours ago, and yet your boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi continued fine-tuning his serves. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you scanned the male for any indication of exhaustion – something you would have capitalized on, in order to reason with him. Except the outside hitter’s reserve of energy was far from being depleted. It often surprised you how resilient he was, he certainly did not have Bokuto or Hinata’s stamina, but that did not keep him from pursuing his goals. Whenever he would discover a new technique or target, he would work on it relentlessly. It was an admirable trait, one that made him one of the best players you had ever seen.

And let it be known, supporting him was always your intention. But at the moment, you were passing your own limits and remaining calm and composed was not an option. Between the throbbing on either side of your head and the acids chewing away at your stomach lining from hunger, you were seconds from raiding Bokuto’s secret snack stash.

“Omi, you’re done. Go take a shower.” After swapping your clipboard for a towel, you proceeded across the court, before offering it out to him.

The outside hitter stared at you in response, indicating that he heard your commands but was electing to ignore them. Returning his attention to the volleyball within his grasp, he began prepping for another serve. A sigh mixed with a growl rattled inside of your throat as you twisted the towel in frustration. When the ball landed on the opposite side of the court, an eerie grin stretched onto your mouth.

“Omi. You little shit.”

With each step you took forward, Sakusa intuitively took one step back until his back was met with the padding attached to the wall. You were quite aware of your height difference, although that did not matter. You planted your hands on either side of him, purposefully caging him in. Knitting his brows together, confusion swam in his dark irises.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing? I’m not asking you to finish up. I’m telling you. We finished practice two hours ago, and I am starving. If you do not go into there and take a shower this instant, I will not be responsible for what happens to you. You know what they say – you’re not yourself when you’re hungry.” After gesturing to the locker room with your head, you squinted at him, attempting to seem menacing. However, you were only met with amusement.

“Are you saying you will eat me?” The question had Sakusa battling a smile. Was he really supposed to find that scary?

“We both know someone like you would taste delicious, so I’m not saying that isn’t a possibility.” Maintaining a deadpan expression while spouting nonsense was not a task for the weak – but after having countless conversations with actual idiots, you had mastered it. You would not provide your boyfriend any satisfaction.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His admittance of defeat was joined with the raise of his eyebrow, communicating that he expected you to “release him” now. You were about to comply with the silent request when he dipped down and placed a fleeting kiss onto your mouth. The sudden display of affection had erupted a volcano of butteries inside your stomach.

“What the …”

Leaving you there baffled, the MSBY player slipped past your defenses, smiling to himself.

Two could play at this game.

Later that night:

After gifting you an apology meal at your favourite fast-food joint, you both elected to walk home rather than taking a taxi. His fingers were intertwined with yours loosely, and since the streets were mostly abandoned, he had removed his mask, permitting his lungs unrestricted access to the fresh air. Now that your mood had elevated significantly after satisfying your human needs, you were ready to question your boyfriend on what occurred earlier inside of the arena.

“So, why’d you kiss me?” Kissing was generally an activity he preferred to engage in after showering. And therefore, you were puzzled by his recent actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shifting his gaze to the row of streetlamps that framed the sidewalk, he lifted his shoulders into a shrug.

“You liked that I threatened you, didn’t you?” A gentle laugh danced past your lips as you shook your head. That seemed to be the only explanation you could think of in the moment.

“No. You looked cute trying to seem scary.” He joined his retort with a scoff, although it was evident, he was suppressing any physical indication of joy.

“I am scary!” Resisting your urge to pout, you squished his hand to reinforce your statement.

“Yeah, sure you are.” Refusing to bestow upon you his full attention, his eyes travelled to the sky above. While he would not vocalize it, he found most of your antics to be ridiculously adorable. It was what he loved about you. And there was no denying that you could certainly scare others when deprived of food – but not him.

“I will eat you. Don’t tempt me.” A small pout forced its way to your lips to display your mild annoyance. Though, the emotion was easily defeated when Sakusa in a quick swoop, stole another kiss. This time, however, he lingered, enjoying the taste of your lips.

It turned out that maybe his rules around kissing required some amending. Because he wanted to kiss you, whether or not some of his pre-conditions were met. Guess that was a consequence of being in love.

Once he pulled away, he exhaled a chortle.

“Yeah? I’m looking forward to it.”

General taglist: @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @elephantloser @dreamstormings @anejuuuuoy @fantasycantasy @aquariarose @bloody-bella

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #kuroo tetsuro imagine #sakusa imagines

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ms-indifferwnt · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Cold

“I'm cold"

"And?"

"Can't you give me your jacket or something?"

"Can't you accept my proposal and marry me already?"

In which Prince Donghyuck's parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I'll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 3 of Im Cold. Sorry this one took longer, hope you guys enjoy

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

Prev / Chapter 3 / Next

Y/n was screaming in frustration o to her pillow, Damn the Prince's good Looks, Damn the Prince's words, Damn the Prince's Kindness, Damn it all!

Y/n sighs after screaming on to her pillow, she flips over back against the soft covers, she couldn't help but think about how the evening end up like this. How could she say yes? After Prince Donghyuck has asked for two Weeks what happened?

"No" Y/n replied and stood up

Donghyuck grabbed her by the wrist, it wasn't forceful nor was it tight, Prince Donghyuck gave her an opportunity to pull away, to take her wrist away from the Prince, But why didn't she? "Please" He pleaded and Y/n's eyes widened "At least think it over, if you are still determined to tell my parents I will gladly assist you but please, at least until we're done eating dinner, think it over"

Y/n was shocked to see the prince pleading, asking her to think about it, was this that important to the prince? She nods, fine after dinner she'll reject him, she was getting fed up with how stubborn he is, it wasn't just messing up with the royal family's values, it was also bothering with her life, her own private life, how she is being seen, how people address her whole life went upside down just because the prince lost his temper

Donghyuck nods and stands bowing towards her, "I'm sorry, I know I have troubled you" He confesses and Y/n grabbed him by the shoulders to make him stand straight but he wouldn't budge "I know that by making you do this I have placed you in a hard position" she shakes her head and tears start trickling his eyes, it was all overwhelming, her feelings and the Prince' words being all too heavy on her conscience, the tears weren't necessary nor was it intentional but before she could realize, a sob leaves her lips and Prince Donghyuck's reaction was quick, he stood up straight hands out to hold her as she starts wiping her face

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying" she whimpers and keeps wiping her face with her hands, The prince pulls her hands away and uses his handkerchief to wipe her tears, no words were exchanged, not until she calmed down

Neither noticed it but the Prince'd hand always hovered near the girl's as if waiting for the right moment to hold her hand. The Prince looks at her and she was staring at the cloth in her hand, it was simple, laced in golden thread "Do you like sweets?" The Prince suddenly spoke making her look at him and she nods, he smiles softly and takes her hand in his "Let's go get some ice-cream"

Morning comes and Y/n wakes up to the sound of Prince Donghyuck's voice "Hana, which one is better?"

Y/n opened her eyes to be greeted by Prince Donghyuck looking through her closet "Goodmorning" he greets and moves to kiss her forehead, Y/n still freezes at the action but smiled "I've chosen your outfit for today so we can match" Donghyuck pats his thighs to show off the color and smiles, standing up to hold her hand and help her out of bed, "Wear this" he shows a pretty blue floral lace Bardot dress, pattern adorned with white and pink roses while lace covers the edges the color matching the Prince's blue-ish dress pants "Get her dressed Hana"

And at the Prince's words, Hana leads Y/n to the conjoined bathroom, helping her clean up and get dressed fixing the way it hugs her curves, and Hana smiles, applying a bit of touch-ups on her skin and fixing her hair. She was done and Y/n looked into the mirror, Hana has fixed her hair into a half-up bun style making it look messy yet classy, the hairstyle complementing the dress

They both left the bathroom only to be greeted by the prince facing away from the bathroom door looking at his phone "Done? Can I turn and see?"

Y/n blinks, the Prince purposefully turned away to give her space and privacy, she smiles softly "Yes you can turn around now"

The prince turns around and he smiles at the sight, but then he wrapped one arm around his waist as a support for his elbow where he places his chin on his palm eyeing her "Something's missing" he mumbled

Y/n blinks and tilts her head as Hana turns to look at Y/n "Jewelry?" Hana offers and the Prince nods, with the Maid immediately reacting walking to get the Jewelry box from the vanity, "Milady has a wide assortment of jewelry here, my Prince" she says and turns only to gasp at the sight

The Prince had invaded Y/n's personal bubble, him being so close their chest could be flushed against each other, her hair was out of the way while the Prince had his arms around her neck as he tries and clasps the necklace. In all honesty, if he wanted to help her wear it he could've done it from behind not doing it while almost hugging Y/n

Y/n could feel the Prince's breath fan against her neck at the close proximity, she blushes and moved to hold on to the blazer in front of her until finally, the prince locks the necklace tracing a cold finger against the chain, she tried, she just couldn't help but feel the goosebumps rise against her skin where he had touched "There, you look pretty" he smiles his finger stopping at the pendant only to return tracing against her collar bones and down her arms. Y/n would be lying if she says the prince didn't have an effect on her, cause, oh how her heart raced at the action, silently willing them to stop, he traces lower 'till he holds her hand looking at her wrist "Let us get you a bracelet" he lets go of her only to look through the jewelry box

Hana stood there in shock, cheeks a shade of red at the display of affection, standing off to the side, knowing that she shouldn't react unless Y/n or the Prince might need her

The Prince would take time, looking through the wide assortment of bracelets and looking at the Y/n to look at her wrists and then dress, only to resume his search. Y/n on the other hand had examined the pendant of the necklace, it was a flower, a white flower pendant with delicate details on to its petals, making it look as if it is blooming "It's called a gardenia flower"

She looks into his eyes "what?" she blinks a bit surprises

He points to the pendant "That a gardenia flower, do you like it?" he asks and stands up fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves

She nods shyly "It's a pretty flower" he nods and takes his watch off, it was a simple watch, it had a golden chain strap along with its case, a black tint on the watch itself "You have a pretty watch" she murmurs and the Prince smiles

"Good, cause you'll be using this today" he replies and walks up to her so he can hold her wrist, placing the watch on and locking it in place "Its a bit big on you," he laughs as if finding the whole ordeal cute "Remind me later, lets go on jewelry shopping ok?" Y/n nods silently and he examines Y/n, nodding in approval at the sight he smiles and locks there fingers "Lets go, lets have breakfast together then we can go out to my schedules ok?" he says as he leads her out of her room and into the dining hall

Letting him lead her out, "I'm sorry, My Prince-" she starts but the prince cuts her off

"You should get used to calling me Donghyuck for the next two weeks" he murmurs and turns his head to look at her and smiled "What were you saying?"

She clears her throat and avoided eye contact "Why do I have to come with you on your schedule?"

He hums as if thinking of the right words to answer her question "well, It would be great to show my parents that I am 'serious'," He makes air quotes with his free hand "about you, a plus to make them believe that i need time to heal when we do break up. And, it gets lonely when I'm the only one going"

"Where is this meeting being held exactly, My Prince?" Y/n asked as she turns away from the car window to look at the Prince only to get a raised eyebrow in return "Donghyuck" she corrects and he nods in approval

"At a café, we'll be meeting with someone, he claims that this project he proposes will help a lot of people"

"Then why must you be the one to interview them? wouldn't it be better for the King and Queen to address that matter themselves?"

"Well, Yes. But not everything will go through the King and Queen, first they have to go through me to make sure its worth seeing by them and then the decision is ultimately theirs"

"Ah" she hums softly and nods "I understand" she smiles and Donghyuck couldn't help but smile back

Once they arrive, The Prince leads Y/n by the hand to a man dressed in a fancy suit he stands and bows towards the new arrivals "My name Johnny, thank you for giving me a chance to speak to you your highness"

Donghyuck bows and smiles "Of course,. I'd like you to meet my Fiancé, Y/n this Suh Johnny, a dear friend and at the moment a benefactor" he smiles informs and Johnny bows in her direction with her mirroring the action, "Please sit." They all obeyed

Johnny was very convincing and honestly, the Prince liked his proposal but as Johnny excused himself to go to the bathroom, Donghyuck turned to Y/n "What do you think?"

She blinked in confusion "Sorry?" she tilts her head slightly and Donghyuck had resist the urge to grab her by the chin so that he can adjust it "But why are you asking me, my Prince?"

He frowns "Donghyuck, Y/n, please call me Donghyuck, you earned the title of being my friend in this predicament you and I are in" earning a nod from the girl and he hums "but to answer your question, its because you might know what's best" she watches him as he spoke "I have not once tried living as if I wasn't a prince, I've never went to the market or done house chores, but you have and you do, compared to me you know what can help improve the way my people work and move, so I'm asking you, what did you think of his proposal?"

Y/n lets the Prince's words sink in as she looks down at her lap, she never thought that it'd come to this, The crowned prince asking her opinion but here she was "Yes, It'll be of great help" she started and started explaining the points on why and how it could improve, stating facts and sharing little stories along the way with her explanation as the Prince attentively listened and nodded

After she spoke, the Prince nodded and smiled at her "that is great Y/n" he moves to hold her hand cupping them "Thank you" he beams he opens his mouth to speak only to be stopped by Johnny returning and the Prince drops her hand

"I'm sorry" Johnny says and sat down "May I continue?" and the prince nods "As I was saying adding homes, giving the people their own job that is cleaning up our parks can lessen our rate of jobless citizens and also lessen out the homeless-"

Johnny was cut off to the prince swerving to the side and looking at his Fiancé "What's your favorite cake flavor?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Cake flavor," he repeats and nods towards the different displays and grins "What is it?"

She looks at Johnny who smiles at her "Mocha" she answers and he hums "you really do have a sweet tooth hmm?" he raises a hand to flag down a waiter "and coffee?" he turns to look at her then stops "No, Sorry you hate coffee... One Mocha cake and," he hums going back to when he bought ice cream for her and smiled "two cups of Hot Chocolate please, would you like anything Johnny?"

"Just coffee" He replies

"Black Coffee for him" Donghyuck says and the waiter bows, "Sorry, continue" and with that Johnny continues

Donghyuck is now to make a decision, if he says yes, Johnny will speak to his parents about his proposal and he hums, giving his and Y/n's words to careful consideration, his eyes drifting to Y/n as she took a bite "feed me" he says out of the blue making Y/n and Johnny look at him surprised

"I can't think without sugar and I drank my milk, just one bite" he coaxes and, Y/n offered him a bit which he happily accepted, looking at Johnny he grins "I hope my parents like your idea as much as we did Johnny"

#7dream #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck x reader #chenle #haechan smut #jaemin #jeno #jisung #lucas #nct #nct127 #donghyuck smut #prince au #royal au #royal nct drea #prince lee donghyuck

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antipodeanpineapplelump · 3 years ago

Note

Dear Starshot, I recently saw your latest artwork for #Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura and I am DYING to learn more about this AU. If you're comfortable sharing, is there anything you can disclose about it?? Is this related to the ItaShi Indiana Jones AU you mentioned before?!!?!?!?!!

Hi Birk, thank you so much for dropping by with this ask! Are you really voluntarily asking me to talk about my current obsession and fanfic baby though? Because I warn you, you may live to regret that!!!

"Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura" is now the official title of my ItaShi Indiana Jones AU. I realise it’s been over a year since I first mentioned it, and it’s still a WIP! Pretty sure that says absolutely nothing good about the speed of my writing, but a lot about how busy my life outside of fandom is. Anyhow, it’s definitely one of those AUs that’s got away on me. I was planning one story initially, but now it’s kind of turned into three (plus a cracky oneshot), and this is just the first.

I’ve planned nine chapters total so far, but the bane of my life is currently number four. It’s sitting at 16,000 words and counting. Succinct writing? I’ve certainly never heard of it… So anyway, I kind of hit a wall there and decided to take a little break to come back with fresh eyes. That’s how I ended up working on the art instead. But I’d say I’m probably about halfway through the first draft (47,000-ish words).

I recently shared the opening scene and my draft cover artwork here. Ummm… what else can I tell you? Madara is the main bad guy, and he’s definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Shisui is an agent of disaster and chaos. Itachi is really… not. So their initial interactions go about as well as you could expect.

All the main characters have extensive back stories. I’m pretty sure you’re already familiar with my Machiavellian worldbuilding tendencies from reading Red Dawn, so it goes without saying I have just as many notes and plans, and as much fleshed out worldbuilding for this story too. And it will take a long time for all of that to be revealed! But the overarching theme is probably found family, which is different to anything I’ve done before.

At this risk of revealing too much, or boring you to tears, I’ll finish with another sneak peek, this time from Itachi’s POV:

When Itachi wakes, there’s nothing to suggest his day is going to be anything but routine.

He gets up at dawn as per usual, eating breakfast at the dining table alone, legs tucked beneath him on a comfortable zabuton. The solitude at this hour of day is something he prefers. It’s the only time the family home is quiet anymore—lacking the cold disapproval of his father’s increasingly judgemental lectures, the anger of his younger brother’s rebellion, or the resigned acquiescence of his mother.

By now, Fugaku should have left for work, and it’s still too early for Sasuke to be awake, given how late he’s been staying out at night. Either to irritate their father, or just avoid him entirely, he’s taken to frequenting the clubs and bars in Osaka. Mostly, he comes home. Some nights, he doesn’t.

More often than not, even when he is home his door is closed, the thumping bass line of some song or another seeping out from beneath it. Likely because he knows this angers their father even more than the leather jackets and spiked punk-rock hair style he now sports.

Part of Itachi has been glad to discover his brother possesses more of a spine than he ever has. But at the same time, Sasuke’s rejection of every last one of their father’s rules has only brought more unwanted scrutiny to Itachi’s far more minor transgressions. It’s as though, having decided his younger child is a lost cause, Fugaku now wants to be absolutely certain his eldest son and heir to the Uchiha family fortune is beyond reproach. To smother him with expectations until he emerges, a diamond from beneath the pressure.

But unbeknownst to Fugaku, Itachi has one flaw he can’t change. And it means that, no matter what, he’ll always be a failure in his father’s eyes.

Sighing, he swallows a mouthful of rice and fish, washing it down with the sweetened barley tea he favours. Pulling this month’s edition of Modern Archaeology across the table, he inspects its glossy cover and promptly chokes on his drink.

The face that smiles up from the page stokes a knot of hot irritation in his gut. Furiously, he skips to the article, skim-reading the text, despite the fact he knows it will only annoy him further.

"An up-and-coming star in the field of archaeology, particularly specialising in South-American cultures, Shisui Uchiha is an increasingly well-known fixture of the San Diego research scene. Curiously for someone so entrenched in the study of history, he is famously reticent when it comes to his own. ‘I did spend my early years in Japan,’ he confirms when pressed. ‘But I haven’t been back in a long time. The United States is my home now.’ Asked about his connection to the famous Uchiha family, he merely winks enigmatically. ‘Never heard of them,’ he says, before asking if we’d like a one-on-one tour of the dig site.

Equally at home in dusty ruins as surfing the palm-lined SoCal beaches, or scaling the cliffs of his native Joshua Tree National Park, he nonetheless shines in group settings too. At the party we attend that evening, to celebrate the opening of a new Aztec exhibit at the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City, he easily charms the crowd, finishing the night with at least half a dozen new admirers. It’s not hard to see why they like him. A conversation with Shisui is exercise in passion and obscure historical knowledge. Even so, much like the dig sites he frequents, it’s hard to say just how much of what he presents to the world runs more than surface-deep.

His motto in life? ‘Fall seven times, stand up eight,’ Shisui says with a charismatic smile. Where did he learn it? Chuckling, he brushes us off. ‘The school of hard knocks.’

Love him or hate him, one thing is certain—we haven’t seen the last of Shisui Uchiha’s brand of archaeology.”

Hate him, Itachi thinks, sipping his tea viciously enough to scald his tongue and immediately regretting it. Definitely hate. Hate how he’s reckless, impulsive, irresponsible, and doesn’t seem to take a single thing seriously. Hate that it looks like he’s never had to work hard for anything a day in his life—people only too happy to hand him whatever he wants on a silver platter, charmed by a pretty smile. Hate the fact that, despite their shared family name, he’s free to do whatever he likes. Hate the way people flock to him, falling into his orbit—and by all accounts, bed—like it’s somehow inevitable. And hate, most of all, that there’s a small part of Itachi which understands why.

Because hate or love him—and it’s definitely hate—there’s no denying that Shisui Uchiha is, objectively, a very attractive man.

Coming back to his senses and realising he’s been leaning over the magazine, frowning so hard his forehead hurts, Itachi straightens, closing his eyes and massaging the knot of tension out from between his eyebrows.

“Itachi—”

The tension sinks in even deeper. He opens his eyes. “Father.”

Fugaku takes in magazine, then his son, and Itachi really hopes his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel. It’s stupid, but merely knowing he feels the way he does about the man on the page makes him fear being caught. As though his father might somehow divine his deepest darkest secret, just by looking. Truthfully, Itachi sometimes wonders if he might not already know, or at least suspect. But if he does, it’s clearly a truth he’s chosen not to acknowledge.

“I take it you’re prepared for our meeting this evening?” Fugaku asks, grim as ever.

Attempting a composed sip of his tea, Itachi nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Mouth a hard, unyielding line, Fugaku makes some indiscernible noise of disapproval, sweeping an appraising glance over Itachi. “Well, I suppose it’s too much to hope that anything can be done about your hair between then and now. But they’re a modern family. New money. Perhaps it won’t matter so much.”

Fingers tightening into the flesh of his thigh, Itachi has to remind himself to breathe. “I will do my best to make a good impression,” he says, inclining his head towards his father, penitence for his innumerable shortcomings—not least of all the choice to grow his hair out. It’s a small act of rebellion compared to Sasuke’s effort, but one his father seems determined to curtail as promptly as possible.

Poker face easing ever so slightly, Fugaku’s brows trend downwards, though their slant is still severe. “I know. You are my son, after all. And it is high time you were married with a family of your own. Perhaps then you will see the value in giving up these frivolous academic pursuits, and taking your rightful place at the head of the family business.”

He might as well build a box and stuff Itachi into it. Mold him to fit his own vision of the future. But Itachi has long since learnt that what he wishes he could have from life, and what he can have, are two very different things. So, just like his infrequent clandestine trips to the less desirable areas of Osaka’s nightlife, this too, he realises he will have to sacrifice. Duty before self.

“Yes Father, I’m certain you’re right,” he says, bowing once more as Fugaku leaves for work, closing the front door behind him with a click that reeks of finality.

As his footsteps crunch away on the gravel path outside, Itachi can’t help clenching his fists, until long after his knuckles turn white.

Theoretically, it’s a good match. From a family of good standing, his potential bride is quiet and well spoken—the perfect future housewife and mother. Their marriage would kill two birds with one stone, giving her father the son he never had, and Itachi—and therefore by extension Fugaku—control of their biggest competitor’s business.

All it requires is for Itachi spend the rest of his life pretending to be something he’s not.

The weight of it burns tight in his throat, threatening to break free on a rising tide of bile. He longs to cast off his gilded shackles, take a leaf from Sasuke’s book and do something completely crazy.

With a sigh, he rises from the table, collecting his dishes and depositing them circumspectly into the sink. Another day of work awaits.

#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura #birkastan2018 #asks #my writing #WIP #sorry for talking so much #I'm sure I've mentioned it before #but I'm just an enormous nerd #who loves talking about my nerdy interests #thank you for this ask!

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modgirlyreposts-revamped · 3 years ago

Note

Millie headcanons!!

- I see her as having more of a gothic lolita/almost Victorian gothic style tbh? Basically she dresses like Lydia Deetz in Beetlejuice. However I love throwing in more mall goth aspects too. Fancy black dress, messy looking makeup, demonia boots, Victorian mourning jewellery, and spiked choker & bracelets kinda thing you get me?

- Bullied kid with comorbid probably undiagnosed ADHD and depression type beat

- I imagine ITP takes place in like, early or maybe mid 2010s. I've seen on this blog once or twice the idea of Millie being around the pizzaplex and i love that idea but I always saw her as like, a closer to classic Freddy Fazbear's kid.

- Her family is pretty well off. That's why she can actually afford to dress the way she does (yeah I'm jealous what of it)

- She likes horror a Lot. It's something of a hyperfixation of hers, but it leaves her grandpa quite concerned because My Granddaughter Has Been Holed Up In Her Room Watching Horror Movies All Day Is She Mentally Stable

- I know in canon she was only going to stay with her grandpa while her parents were away but I got the vibes that her grandpa basically helped raise her. (In my own weird au where millie and sarah like, band together with the other protags to investigate freddy fazbears and specifically the bite of 83 and shit she just full on lives with him lol)

- She's intimidating as Fuck when she gets mad.

- Her hair is not naturally black (not sure what color it Is tho, maybe blonde??), but she dyes it (I also imagine she likes to throw in some purple streaks or a black to purple ombre sometimes)

- She has like 3 piercings on each ear. The second set no one knew she was getting until she came back home from going out to do so. She was banned from getting piercings as a punishment so the third one was also a secret no one in the family noticed for like months.

- She would love FNaF. I feel like she'd make "man behind the slaughter" jokes. Is that old? Me and my sister still do it.

- She is absolutely awful with kids, but they love her. She goes out to the park with a black umbrella to brood dramatically in the shade and from the playground she just hears "Millie!!" And then a small crowd of children runs up asking if she'll play with them. She always gives in and agrees to play in the end. She can never even remember their names or anything but they see the sad girl in all black and immediately know She's Friend. She would die for them.

- Oswald is her surrogate brother and ok now that I'm thinking abt millie in the pizzaplex era Gregory would be too 100%.

- She likes chocolate. She gives me the vibes of someone who just, chocolate everything. Her grandpa buys chocolate chips for baking and Millie eats them all.

- As a kid she cried a lot and didnt know how to/was too afraid to stand up for herself. She has a lot of repressed anger from those years and tends to dramatically overreact as a result (I'm not projecting what do you mean)

[TW for implied abuse for the next three]

- OK BOUNCING OFF THAT ONE HC THAT DYLAN HAS DID AS SOMEONE WHO MAYBE HAS IT MYSELF I LOVE THAT. I have an Idea for how it would've formed which is that his familial situation is Very Not Good. Anyways I think, he has probably abt 10 ish alters, Millie would get along with most of his alters. I think Dylan would have multiple persecutor alters which r alters who formed from trauma who harm the body or other alters to try and protect them. Millie actually gets along surprisingly well with one of them.

- On another note w/ Dylan tho Millie's grandpa meets Dylan, finds out just a little bit abt his family and basically tells him like "my home is your home, if you're not safe there, you're always welcome here" so <3 he likes to spend basically all his time at Millie's grandpa's house and he doesnt say it but he worries hes like is your home really that bad do I need to call CPS?

- Millie's parents come home at the end of the year and are like well what'd we miss? And her grandpa's like look at my new grandson Dylan :) Dylan come out and say hi!! And out comes a teenage boy with bright red hair, a bunch of piercings (also a scar on one ear), wearing spiky platform boots, spiked bracelets and choker like Millie's (but in white w/ black spikes) and patched black jeans, wiping Pop Tart crumbs off a My Chemical Romance shirt and he just looks up at them totally nonchalantly and goes "Heyo" and walks off and they're like MAURICE WHAT THE HELL?!? WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THIS KID?!?! JUVIE?!!?!??

- Millie's grandpa doesn't Know Dylan has DID 100%- Dylan hasn't told him and doesn't plan to- but he notices major changes in personality from time to time and catches Millie, Sarah or Brooke calling him different names occasionally. That plus his vague knowledge of what goes down at Dylan's house, he's sorta put the dots together on his own, but he hasn't said anything yet.

- Ok so like, I love the idea of Brooke having like a pastel/bubblegum-bitch aesthetic. One time Brooke dressed Millie up in a pastel goth style (and Dylan gave her a scene/emo style) and at the time she was like it's so BRIGHT it's so SOFT WHAT but shes been thinking about that ever since and occasionally while shopping she'll pick out a pair of cutesy/pastel earrings or a neon accented choker or something like that.

- Brooke introduces Millie and Dylan to Marina. Millie introduces Brooke to MCR (or something, idk, for as much of a goth as I am I mostly listen to Penelope Scott). Dylan introduces them both to FaLiLV (a Japanese band). Brooke does not like their taste in music.

- Millie's idea of calming down is laying on her bed and listening to screamo.

This took me an hour and a half I'm sorry

ADHAKFJHSJKJHKDSSJFD I LOVE THESE-

The one about Millie being terrible with children but them loving her anyway, is so accurate to my Millie as well. She can take care of a child about as well as she can take care of herself (not much at all-), but her cousins absolutely love when she babysits them, and Gregory looks up to her as a role model (Millie's just like "thanks, but reconsider!" lol)

And the one with Millie's grandpa practically adopting Dylan, I swear ur trying to kill me with wholesomeness, I love them sm. In my AU if Dylan was having issues with his family and Millie's grandpa found out, he'd just calmly stand up and walk into the garage, coming back with a baseball bat. He'd calmly tell Millie and the others that he's just going to have a "talk" with Dylan's parents, while Millie knowing damn well just what he means by that starts chasing after him telling him not to do this, Dylan not far behind.

Dylan's parents would just hear someone pounding on their door, and when they answer there's just an extremely tired and pissed off 60 something year old man on their doorstep, and two teens attempting to hold him back, all while Millie's grandpa is shouting a load of expletives at them.

The whole time Dylan is just panicking, and is all like "M-Mr. Fitzsimmons, you don't have to do this!", whereas Millie knows that her grandfather will not calm down until someone is at least hospitalized.

#asks #answered #spirits-in-the-wind

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

lost time (chapter five)

MASTERLIST

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warning: cursing, underage drinking

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: bear with me on those title gifs/images there is not much out there lmao

CHAPTER FOUR

______________

She pressed a hand against his chest to keep just enough distance between the two of them, lowering her voice a bit. “That’s not why you stopped me.”

He leaned closer, raising his eyebrows. “Enlighten me, then.”

She stayed quiet, only able to think about his heartbeat racing underneath her touch. As he bent his head down, closer, she fisted her hand in his shirt, her voice low with a warning tone. “Rafe.”

“Sophie.” He murmured back, lips hovering inches away from hers.

Sophie made the first move, reaching up and curling a hand around the back of his neck as she pulled him into the kiss. He met her lips without hesitation, his hands instantly going to her waist. She leaned into his touch, up on her toes. “M’ so glad no one’s out here.” She breathed out, keeping one hand splayed against his chest.

Rafe tried to ignore how much that hurt, like he was some secret to be kept.

They kept kissing for a while, Sophie lazily toying with the ends of his hair. After a couple minutes, he started kissing along her jaw, sucking just enough at a spot on her neck to elicit a soft moan from her. “I wish I came as your date.” He murmured against her skin as he traced his thumb back and forth over her hip.

She froze at his confession, her head clouded without clear thought. “You’re drunk.” She mumbled back, hand falling from his neck.

“I’m not.” He argued, kissing her again.

She could taste the rum on his lips, betraying his words. “Well, I am.” She replied softly, hesitating again until he went in for another kiss. “And I’m still mad about your stupid death cup rule.”

He scoffed, softly, but sounded more amused than anything. “You can’t call house rules when it’s not your house.”

Sophie scowled and pressed her hand a little harder against his chest. “It’s more my house than yours. Can’t you just follow the rules?”

He chuckled, trailing his hand higher and ran his index finger lightly along her spine. “Do you ever stop arguing, Soph?”

She shivered at his touch, willing herself not to move closer. “Not with you.”

“Can we…?” He asked with a broad grin, tipping his head toward their houses, just a short walk away.

She laughed at the proposition, harshly. “I’m not hooking up with you, Cameron. I’ll be surprised if I remember this tomorrow.”

He faltered and the grin fell from his face right away as he dropped one of his hands from her waist. “Damn, tell me how you really feel.” He choked out a sore laugh, trying again to mask his bruised ego.

She stepped back out of his grip, pressing her fingers against her swollen lips in a feeble attempt to hide any evidence of what had just happened. “I’m going to go, tell Julia for me?”

“Wait, you’re just - that’s it?” He questioned, disappointment evident.

“Yes, that’s it.” She paused, reading his expression - and laughed, again. It sounded cruel to his ears. “You didn’t seriously think something was going to happen between us, did you?”

Rafe stiffened and ran a hand through his hair, his voice flat. “No. Of course I didn’t.”

She turned, going to leave. He caught her hand in his and she turned back for a moment, caught off guard by his gentle touch. “You can’t walk home alone, Sophie, it’s dark.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged her hand out of his grip. “It’s fine, it’s literally like five-ish minutes. There are people out walking home from the bars, it’s alright.”

Rafe frowned. “Sophie…”

“Go back to your date, Rafe.” She shook her head, walking off with her head held high.

Sophie woke up a few hours later to Allie and Julia peering over her as she was sprawled out on one of the couches in the sorority’s formal living room. “Soph, wake up, let’s go to our room.” Allie nudged her softly, tugging gently on her wrist.

“Huh?” She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Julia laughed and helped pull her up. “Bedtime, Sophie. You gotta stop crashing on these couches, you’re gonna get in trouble. Did Rafe take you home?”

“What? No, I think I walked.” She replied, still half-asleep and still somewhat drunk.

“Oh. He left after you did, I figured he brought you back here.” Julia shrugged, the three of them walking up to their room.

Sophie just shook her head, trying to recall the rest of her night. “I dunno where he went. You’re not going to see him again, are you?”

“No, he was nice, but. Didn’t seem interested. In me, anyways.” Julia replied, sounding unaffected.

Allie held back a smile, knowing exactly what she was hinting at. “C’mon, Soph, let’s get ready for bed. You’re gonna hate me if you wake up in a halter top.”

Sophie nodded sleepily, following along. “Prob’ly right.”

The girls made their way upstairs and Sophie was coherent enough to change into pajamas, barely sitting up on the edge of her bed as Allie dragged a makeup wipe over her face. “He’s so fucking handsome. I hate it.” She slurred, allowing herself to feel the full effects of the alcohol with the two people she was comfortable around.

“Who is?” Julia asked, playing dumb. Allie shot her a warning look as Sophie flopped back onto the bed.

“You know who I’m talking about. I didn’t know he was such a good kisser.” Sophie mumbled, crawling under the covers.

“Wait, what?!” Julia practically shrieked and Allie immediately shushed her. She lowered her tone just slightly. “You two kissed? Finally!”

Sophie groaned at the loud noise, pulling a pillow over her face. She spoke again, muffled into the pillow. Allie raised an eyebrow at Julia as they whispered in hushed tones back and forth to each other.

“Did you know?”

“No I didn’t know! But it took them long enough!”

“She was drunk! She probably didn’t mean it!”

Sophie lifted her head again, annoyance lacing her tone. “I can hear you. Shh, I’m sleeping.” With that, the two girls took the bathroom to discuss the rest of the night in private.

_____

Rafe couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head all weekend.

Instead of meeting up with his friends at the bar that night like he had promised, he made a quick exit from the party, giving Julia a short apology then heading out the door. Sophie was right, there were quite a few people out making their way from the bars to house parties or wherever, but he used it as an excuse to follow her home from a distance. He felt a bit creepy, admittedly, but told himself he just happened to be going home to Delt, two houses away from where she lived at Theta. (Plus if he had heard something had happened to her, he would have never forgiven himself.)

He had never been more grateful for a lecture day in class on Monday. He could feel her gaze on him several times throughout class, wanting nothing more than to meet her eyes, but kept his head down as he scrawled notes into his notebook. At the end of class, he packed his things hurriedly, trying to rush out the door, but she was quicker and waited just outside the doors for him. “Rafe, hey!” She caught his arm as he was walking out, head down.

He slowed, stepping aside in the hallway with her and tried his best to play it cool. “What’s up?”

She smiled like nothing had ever happened between them. “I tried getting your attention all class, you were ignoring me. I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to sit together now?”

He shook his head and tugged down on the bill of his hat, backwards as always. “Oh. Didn’t know. I was just taking notes.”

She nodded, unfazed. “Right. I just wanted to be sure we were still on to meet tomorrow night? I think our first debate is soon, I don’t want to be unprepared.”

He grimaced, having completely forgotten. “Right, yeah. Is the library cool? Er, fine? I can reserve a room.”

Sophie waved her hand. “I already got us one. Second floor, I’ll see you at six.” She paused, giving him a once-over then a sheepish grin. “I meant to ask, did you have fun at the party with Julia? I honestly don’t remember much after the bus back to Theta.”

Rafe’s blood ran cold and he had to stop himself from openly gaping. True to her word, she hadn’t remembered. “Um. Yeah. She’s nice, but, uh, not really my type, you know.” He tripped over his words, glancing at her neck to see if there was any trace of the mark he had left, but it was either completely healed or well-covered.

“Oh.” Sophie nodded again, completely oblivious. “Okay then, I’ll see you later.” She left him standing there, shaking his head in disbelief.

The second he got back to Delt, he found Colin right away in their room, playing video games with James. “You can’t ask her out.” Rafe declared, standing right in front of the TV. They both ignored James’ protests and Colin pulled the headset down, confused.

“What?”

“You can’t ask her out.” Rafe repeated, arms crossed. His face was stony, jaw set.

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Why, did something happen? This why you’ve been a space case all weekend?”

Rafe grumbled something under his breath. “No, just - you can’t. She’s off-limits.”

James just rolled his eyes, reaching out and kicking his leg to get him out of the way of the TV. “You can’t claim a girl that doesn’t even want you in the first place, dumbass.”

Rafe groaned, grabbing his ankle and shoving his leg aside. “I’m serious, Colin. Delt code. And if you already asked her out, you have to tell her plans changed or something, don’t be a dick about it -”

“Chill, chill, I haven’t said a word to her.” Colin raised his hands in surrender.

Rafe exhaled, nodding slowly. “Right. Good. Carry on, then.” He missed Colin and James exchanging confused looks as he left the room with a huff.

If she was going to just pretend nothing ever happened and be nice, he could deal with that. They could be friends, Rafe told himself as he swiped his card at a local coffee shop in town before his meeting with Sophie that Tuesday night. He ignored the way his stomach twisted as he first caught sight of her alone in the study room in the library, a pencil tucked up and twisted into her hair.

“Here, Soph.” He slid into his seat across from her, pushing a cup of coffee across the table. She glanced up, ready to make a snarky remark about it being too late for caffeine, then paused as she saw the cup from Sweetwaters, her favorite coffee. Rafe pulled out his laptop, logging on, then glanced up at her. “What, something wrong? You like it with vanilla, right?”

She nodded quickly and brought it to her lips, then took a small sip and gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, um, just didn’t know you noticed. Thank you.”

“No biggie.” He waved it off, then pushed the laptop to her and started walking her through the argument he had prepared in advance. She was totally unfocused, distracted by running every single possible meaning of what his kind gesture could have meant. After a couple minutes, Rafe caught on. “And that’s exactly why I’m taking credit for all of the project. Right?”

Sophie nodded quickly, snapping out of it. “Right, yeah, totally. Um. Let me just read back over this real quick…”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Were you listening?”

Never willing to admit her faults, she scowled at him. “Of course I was listening.”

He grinned. “Sure, Soph.”

“Why do you call me that?” She interrupted.

He shrugged. “I’ve called you that since high school, it’s nothing new.”

“But...my friends call me Soph. And only some of them.” She pointed out.

His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “You really think we’re not friends? Hit me where it hurts, Flint.”

She raised her eyebrows, confused, and pulled her hand back. “You hate me.”

He shook his head. “Not quite.” After a momentary pause, he pushed the laptop back to her. “See, like I was saying…”

Sophie nodded at his admission, trying to hide a smile as she took another sip of her coffee. The rest of the meeting was productive, and they were both quiet as they packed up their things an hour later. “Is your family coming in next weekend? For parent’s weekend?” She broke the silence, trying to make friendly conversation.

Every third weekend in October, Columbus was flooded with parents reliving their college days and buying their kids’ meals at fancy restaurants normally frequented by locals. All of Greek life had the same time of year reserved for parent’s weekend, and with Sophie’s parents as proud alumni and her older brother now a grad student at Ohio State, her family hadn’t missed one yet.

“Uh, no. My dad doesn’t really have time to come out with work and whatever, and.” He shrugged and preoccupied himself with zipping his backpack, head down. “You know.”

Sophie frowned, biting her lip. “Right, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Do you have plans, then?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “No, I’ll probably just head to the game alone. Don’t really want to crash my friend’s weekends, you know.”

“Come hang with me.”

He glanced up at her. “Isn’t your family coming in?”

Suddenly emboldened, Sophie sent him an earnest smile. “Yeah, but it’s basically just a frat reunion for my dad, it’s nothing special. Come to our tailgate, I’m sure they’d like to see you.” Her dad was a golf instructor at the country club back home. He had taught Rafe in private lessons all through high school, and always spoke fondly of him.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” He hedged, though he wanted nothing more than to accept the offer.

“You wouldn’t be. At least consider it?”

“I - yeah, I’ll think about it.” He settled.

She grinned, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. “Good. Thank you, again, for the coffee.”

“It’s no problem.” He allowed a smile, giving her a small wave as she left.

taglist: @obx-saltlife @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @oopsiedoopsie23 @taiter-tots @annedub

#rafe x sophie #rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron obx #outer banks fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfic #outer banks

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svnflowervol666 · 5 years ago

Note

could u probably write one where h is dating a girl that’s a lil curvy? (You can look up someone like julia kelly and katya elise henry on ig/tumblr if u wanna know) and she gets a lot of comparisons from a few of his friends and fans, it kinda brings her down a bit bc idk man I’m a bit curvy too but i get so insecure sometimes knowing that people could be so judgmental but i know harry would love his girl no matter what 🥺❤️

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: smut-ish (at the end)

Something was off with Y/N. Harry had known this for the past few days. It wasn’t that she’d been acting completely different, just so much so that being the caring and attentive person that he is, Harry had picked up on it.

At first, it was turning down second helpings at dinner. He didn’t think much of it aside from giving her the side-eye, because it was her favorite meal that Harry only cooked for her on special occasions. Next, it was her offering to pleasure him in the morning with her mouth instead of letting him take care of them both. Again, it was odd for her to turn down early morning sex, but he’d assumed she was just tired. Then came the nights when Y/N refused to sleep naked. Harry and Y/N always slept without clothes on, Harry claiming that it was just one more layer keeping them apart, which he hated. Again, he thought it was weird, but the weather had been particularly nipply lately so he’d chalked it up to her simply getting chilly throughout the night and needing the extra warmth.

The last and final straw, the whistle-blower that tied all of her off-kilter behaviors together, came to Harry when Y/N was in the shower. She was rinsing off after dinner, which she had only picked at anxiously with her fork without actually eating much of, and Harry was cleaning up the kitchen and living room to prepare for the movie night they had planned. When Harry went to move Y/N’s open laptop from the coffee table, he accidentally woke up the screen, and what he saw puzzled him to no end. It was an article pulled up on her browser, one from a tabloid company titled, “Reasons Why Y/N is Harry Styles’ Best Girlfriend.” The article was filled with photos of not only him and Y/N but of him and his past girlfriends as well. The point was to prove how much happier Harry looked with Y/N as opposed to his exes, but Harry was peeved regardless. Sure, some of these women had done him wrong in the past and left him feeling absolutely gutted, but he hated seeing them being put up against each other in this fashion.

Only adding to his frustration, the next tab over from the article was twitter account that Y/N and Harry had made one drunken night in order to spy on his fans and have a good laugh at how funny some of his followers were. They logged on and scrolled through the tweets together occasionally, but the tweets pulled up on the screen were all about Y/N’s body rather than jokes about how badly they wanted Harry to run them over with his car or memes made out of the horrid candids people had taken of him on stage. They claimed that Y/N was better than Camille because she “actually has an ass,” and that Taylor could never pull off a dress like the one Y/N wore on New Year's Eve because she didn’t have the right curves like Y/N did. Again, not necessarily negative comments, but this coupled with the other article Y/N had been looking at was enough for Harry to comprehend what was happening here.

It didn’t take much for Harry to put it all together, and it broke his heart when he did. She was comparing herself to the other girls Harry had been with. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what people said about Y/N and he knew very well that she looked much different than the other girls he typically went for. People certainly picked up on Harry’s “type,” seeing as he was always a hot topic for the press. Therefore when Y/N came along, everyone had tons to say on the matter. He avoided the comments as much as he could, but it was clear that Y/N was unable to say the same.

In the midst of planning how Harry would approach her on the subject, Y/N emerged from the top of the stairs and made her way over to the couch, dressed in an oversized shirt of Harry’s and a pair of her favorite underwear. Harry quickly closed her laptop and moved it into the kitchen as if he hadn’t just been snooping through her browser history.

“Alright,” she huffed as she plopped down onto the plush cushions of the sofa, wet hair sticking to the nape of her neck, “What’re we watching tonight?”

“Dunno,” Harry pondered, “Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?”

“You know me too well, bubby,” she sighed contently.

A smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s mouth at the nickname she’d used. She appeared to be in a good mood, so he decided not to push his luck and try talking to her another day.

“Ye’ want some popcorn? Bought a new box at the store yesterday.”

“Uhh, no. I think I’m good. Still pretty full from dinner.”

You hardly touched your dinner, Harry thought to himself. He nodded (extremely hesitantly) at his girlfriend before situating his own self on the sofa next to her.

They settled on some independent film they knew they’d both hate, but that was the fun of it. Cracking jokes about how bad the acting was or about how inconsistent the main character’s accent was was almost more fun to Harry than watching a film that was actually good, which was why they ended up watching shitty, low budget ones on their designated, weekly movie nights.

Nearly halfway through the film, Harry absentmindedly slid his arm that was draped around her waist down to reach for Y/N’s thigh to place over his lap. He loved cuddling her this way, which their bodies morphed together and their legs intertwined under the coziest blanket in his house. Y/N loved it too, so Harry was shocked, but up until recently, not surprised, when she quickly pulled her leg away from Harry’s grip and off of his lap.

“Wha’s wrong? Ye’ don’t want to cuddle wi’ me?”

“What do you mean? I am cuddling with you?”

Harry huffed dramatically and rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s feigned ignorance.

“Ye’ know exactly what I mean, baby. And it’s not just that. You’ve been acting weird lately. I know ye’ think I haven’t noticed, but I have. Ye’ don’t eat as much at dinner anymore, ye’ sleep with a t-shirt on. Ye’ don’t even want me touchin’ ye’ right now. Plus, I saw what was pulled up on your laptop while ye’ were in the shower. I’m not dumb, Y/N. Just wish you’d talk t’ me about it’s all.”

Y/N felt the embarrassment creep up her chest and spread to her neck. Her cheeks burned hot as she stared directly into his emerald green eyes that were begging, pleading for her to open up to him and tell him why she’d been so clearly obsessed with her appearance as of late. She’d had no idea that she’d even made a pattern out of her behaviors must less that Harry had picked up on them.

“I-...Harry....I don’t want to talk about this right now,” her voice barely came over a whisper.

“Well, I do. What is it? Ye’ think your too big f’ me or somethin’?”

Y/N sighed frustratingly in Harry’s direction.

“It’s not that. Not entirely anyway. It’s hard to explain. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

She tried not to look at Harry, but his burning gaze made it impossible to tear her eyes away.

“Baby, nothing ye’ say or feel is stupid. Talk t’ me.”

He placed his ringed hand on her kneecap. She was hesitant to not pull away from his touch, but she tried her best to relax against his grip.

“It’s just that...I don’t....look like the other girls you’ve been with,” Y/N chewed her bottom lip anxiously as soon as the words left her mouth.

Harry still didn’t see her point.

“So?” he questioned, “There’s a reason why I’m not with ‘em anymore.”

“I’m just...I see all of these comments about what people say about me...about us and it makes me feel weird.”

“Weird? Like wha’?”

“Weird like I don't really see why you’re even with me, H. I am the polar opposite of all of your exes.”

Harry had half a mind to be angry with Y/N for more or less accusing him of not loving her when that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but he was able to see things from her side and keep his urges to himself. He knew exactly what it was like to be under constant scrutiny from the press, but she didn’t. She didn’t ask for this, she didn’t deserve this, and she certainly shouldn’t be feeling the way she’s feeling right now.

“Baby,” Harry cooed her, “Wha’ever it is that ye’ read or wha’ever ye’ thinkin’, ‘ts not true. I swear on me mum that you’re the girl I want t’ spend forever with. Ye’ don’t have to change anything about ye’self to get me t’ love ye’ any more than I already do.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Harry interrupted, “Promise me ye’ won’t read that rubbish anymore. And promise you’ll stop hidin’ ye’self from me, too.”

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling the tension built up in her shoulders slowly dissipating into thin air. Harry was her favorite person in the world, and hearing that from him meant everything. Of course, she’d still have her moments when she’d feel like she wasn’t good enough, but everyone had those.

“Good,” Harry leaned over to press a chaste kiss over her forehead, “Now give me a proper cuddle.”

He leaned over to grab her by the waist and hoisted her up completely on top of him.

“Harry, no!” Y/N sheepishly exclaimed through embarrassed giggles.

“Y/N, yes!” Harry taunted her as he made them both comfortable on the sofa once more.

He pulled the blanket up over their shoulders and wrapped his arms securely around her back so that he could pet her spine whilst they finished the movie. She nestled into Harry’s shoulder and breathed in his scent that lingered on his fitted, white t-shirt. Twenty minutes ago, she’d have felt like she was crushing Harry under her weight, but not now. She felt at peace knowing Harry loved her for who she was.

As movie nights typically go with Harry, he started to get quite handsy towards the end of the film. He was starting to shift about the sofa and his palms were navigating towards the supple skin of Y/N’s bum. At first, it was a comforting hand slipping in between the hemline of her panties and just resting there against her bare skin, but soon turned into Harry kneading teasing, firm motions on her ass. His lips had found their way to the sensitive patch of her neck, sucking and tugging the area lazily, but still intense enough to mark her up.

“Angel,” Harry beckoned when he was able to pull his lips away from her momentarily.

Y/N hummed in response, too intoxicated from the tingling sensation caused by Harry’s tongue mouthing at her throat.

“Sit up f’ me,” Harry demanded, his voice dripping with lust and desire.

She did as she was told, sitting up so she was still straddling Harry’s chest as she looked down at him. Harry kept a close grip on Y/N’s thighs as he slid further down the couch and his face was now inches away from her core.

“Harry, what’re you-”

“Shh,” Harry’s eyes were blown out and glassy as he switched from looking into her eyes and the damp patch that was slowly but surely forming at the front of her cotton panties.

“Just let me love on ye’ for a bit. Come closer t’ me.”

He tried tugging her thighs so that she’d sit down a bit more against him, but she tensed up.

“But I don’t want to-”

“Ye’ not gonna crush me or wha’ever it is that ye’ worried about.”

“I might,” she mumbled to herself.

Her self-depreciation caused Harry to nip the inside of her bare thigh with his teeth, which made her jerk in response.

“Hey!” she scolded.

Harry took advantage of her moment of disorientation and kissed her heat over the front of her panties so that he could taste the juices that had accumulated there. Her chuckles quickly died down into moans when she felt the beginnings of his stubble graze the part of her body where she’d always needed Harry the most.

“Ye’ gonna listen t’ me now, pet?” Harry asked as he replaced his lips with his thumb, where he began rubbing tantalizingly slow circles against her clothed clit.

“Mhmmm,” Y/N mewled.

“Though so,” Harry finished off with his infamous cheeky smirk.

She settled down properly onto Harry’s face, hovering just over his plump, shining lips until he was ready to taste her again. When he pulled her panties to the side and latched onto her dripping, wet core, she sank even further down against Harry’s tongue, eager to feel him in every possible nook and cranny that he could reach. He drank from her like he’d never wanted anything else in his all of his days.

Y/N had no doubt in her mind that at this moment, Harry was being honest when he said that she was the only person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #asks

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years ago

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 9

A/N: Okay. Some slight drama. Canon typical violence. Slightly nsfw-ish in that there's some fingering.

(Noticed far too late that half of it didnt transfer over, fixed that)

Diego and Blix do some much needed bonding.

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pacho tag: @yungkvte

They laid there a few minutes more, simply enjoying one another’s presence, before with a small groan, Blix sat up.

She quietly stretched, turning her neck side to side, grunting at the small pops and cracks her neck made. Pacho straightened up next to her pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Gilberto said he found you in my office last night? Doing homework as he claims,” Pacho teased as he brushed her back behind her hair.

“Just… trying to understand your world. Gotta say… it’s far more complicated than I thought it was,” Blix lightly noted as she turned to look at him.

“It’s not all crazy parties and getting high. It’s a lot of work to be one of the best cartels in the world,” Pacho said with a smirk.

Blix hummed in response, pushing off the covers, as both of them got up. Blix quietly got dressed, throwing on some shorts and a tank top. She finished getting ready, as Pacho waited, looking at all the things she had unboxed the day before. He stared at the items curiously.

“Your mother had very strange tastes,” He muttered quietly as he picked up the mace.

“Indeed, she did,” Blix stated as she walked up to him, ready for the day.

Pacho turned to look at her, “Not planning on using any of these on me, are you?”

“Hmm. Don’t know. Depends on whether you’re a good boy or not. Don’t test my wrath,” She said with a teasing smile as she walked past him, toward the hallway.

Pacho shook his head with a smile, before following after her.

They made their way downstairs, joining the others for lunch.

She got about halfway through her meal before she remembered she had to make some phone calls. She got up and called Theo to see where he had gotten on the warehouse that they believed was König’s.

“Hey, so there is a lot of activity going on in a warehouse that’s allegedly abandoned. We’ve been monitoring it from a safe distance, and we’ve seen a lot of armed guards patrolling. We’ve seen König wandering the property, but we have yet to see anything damning,” Theo reported, a small yawn escaping him as he finished.

“Good to know. Keep watch for now, we’ll catch him soon enough. Has there been any other robberies I should be made aware of?” She questioned as she paced around the living room.

“None so far. Not sure if that’s good or bad. But I’ll keep you posted,” Theo answered.

“Yeah. Hm. He’ll mess up soon enough and we will be there when it happens. Talk to you later,” Blix ended the call with a small sigh.

She ran her hand over chin, in contemplation. She had slowly wandered down a hallway away from everyone and was near a door that was slightly ajar. She looked inside and saw something that made her smile. She pushed the door further open and saw books lining several shelves and cases.

As she examined the books, she realized they were the books that her sisters sent her from their mother’s home. She ran her fingertip down the spines of several, quietly remembering each story. Several were antiques of the classics and others were miscellaneous. She walked further in and noticed there was an area full of throw pillows and soft cushions surrounding a window nook.

The window, she noted, looked out over the grounds, and it was slightly breathtaking.

She sat on the seat, gazing out.

“See you found your library. Pacho will be sad that you found this before he could show you,” Diego’s voice came from behind her.

“I’ll act surprised when he shows me. He set this all up just for me? Why?” She asked looking around from her seat.

“Isn’t it obvious by now? He cares for you. Loves you even. Just like he does me,” Diego responded as he joined her.

“Are you okay with that though? Sharing him? I know we never actually really sat down and talked this out,” She mentioned as she made room for him to join her.

“I’ll admit in the beginning, I wasn’t thrilled by you,” Diego began.

“’Wasn’t thrilled?’ You tormented me for days!” Blix exclaimed shoving him lightly.

“Okay. I was an ass. The point is, I see now, you are not just some fling of his. You make him happy in ways that I cannot. Just like I make him happy in ways you can’t. He wants both of us. We are not fighting for his attention. He wants us, we want him. That’s that. Plus, he’s allowing you to see the inner workings of the cartel; information that is usually pretty heavily guarded. If he trusts you with that, then I can trust you with him,” Diego explained, taking her hands into his.

Blix nodded once in response, with a small smile.

“So… is he going to be busy with the brothers today?” She inquired after a moment.

“Probably, why?” Diego asked looking at her curiously.

“Well. One, I promised Phobos I would take him out for a ride today. Two, I just thought me, and you can hang out. Get to know one another. If you ‘re cool with it,” She proposed.

“How about tomorrow? I have somethings I need to do this afternoon, but tomorrow I am pretty much free. We could run around town if you’d like?” Diego countered.

“Sounds good to me. Now, gotta harass someone in to taking me to the ranch,” Blix muttered thinking of who to choose.

“Or… I’ll drop you off on my way out. Gotta head out anyway,” Diego offered.

“Ooh. Yes. Lemme go put on boots,” Blix said excitedly, getting up.

She rushed upstairs to get her socks and some boots. She hopped on one foot each, as she threw them on. She ran downstairs, meeting up with Diego; they hopped into his car, driving off.

In no time, he had dropped her off. She walked over to Phobos’ stall, grabbing a brush on her way to him. She pulled him out of his stall, taking him to a small post to tie him to. She began to give him a thorough brushing, quietly talking to him.

Once he was brushed, she saddled him up and began to trot around with him. She walked around with him, letting him get used to her. They spent a good 2 hours wandering the grounds before returning to the stables.

Navegante was waiting for her when she got back with Phobos. She got him settled back into his stall and stretched for a moment before joining Navegante. He took her back to Pacho’s home, dropping her off before disappearing himself.

She walked inside and was told by some guards that Pacho and the brothers had left; Pacho should be back by tonight though.

She decided to just continue her reading upstairs in his office. She spent a few hours doing that, when a guard informed her dinner was ready if she was. She got up and made her way downstairs, after securing the files she had pulled out. She took the plate of food, eating at the table, somewhat watching the soccer game that was playing on the television.

She had just finished eating, when there was a knock at the door.

“What the hell?” She whispered as she got up.

She grabbed a gun that was hidden in a drawer, walking toward the door. She opened it cautiously, gun tucked behind her back.

She stared at the man before her. She had never seen him before, but noticed he looked somewhat familiar.

“Hello? Can I help you?” She questioned him.

“So, you’re the woman my boy is in love with? Seems he’s finally becoming a man,” Came a deep, gravelly voice.

It was then she realized why he looked familiar. He looked a bit like an older Pacho, but with Alvaro’s curls.

“Mr. Herrera. What brings you here?” She asked him dully, immediately annoyed by his presence.

“Wanted to speak to him. Found you instead. You’re much prettier to look at then he is,” He announced pushing his way inside.

“Yes. Please come in,” She muttered annoyed.

She quietly grabbed her phone, discreetly calling Pacho, hoping he picked up. She set the phone down on the counter, watching her intruder look around the living room.

She took a breath of relief when she saw that the phone had connected.

“Mr. Herrera. I don’t know why you are here, but you need to go. Pacho is not here, nor is Alvaro. You are not welcomed. So, either get out, or I’ll make you leave,” She warned him loudly, trying to gain his attention.

“Please. You’re not going to do anything. So, what is it about you that you turned my son back to a normal man?” He asked with a snarl as he turned to her.

“Normal? Oh no. He is still very much gay. He just enjoys my company. Get. Out.” She replied coldly, as she pulled the gun out.

He chuckled, somewhat darkly, “Are you really going to shoot me? I don’t think you have it in you, wench.”

She narrowed her eyes in response, aiming the gun to a spot near his head. She took one shot, the bullet grazing his ear at it embedded itself in the wall behind him. He groaned loudly, touching his ear gingerly.

“Next one, will go between your eyes. Now get out. Leave me alone. Leave Pacho and Alvaro alone. Neither of them wants anything to do you with. You come near them again, and I will bury you so deep into the ground that the Earth’s core will incinerate your corpse,” She promised him, motioning with the gun for him to walk out the door.

“Such loyalty to a man who will only break your heart. Tell me, whatever did he promise you to receive such protectiveness?” He asked as he slowly moved to the door, his eyes fixated on the gun.

“Heh. He’s not the first man to ever break my heart, doubt he’ll be the last. Why does everyone think he bought me? Bought my loyalty? It’s truly starting to vex me. I’m a simple woman Mr. Herrera. Offering simple human decency is enough. Now get out of my home. I truly hate cleaning up blood,” She growled as she stepped forward.

She watched as he ran out, to his car, and made sure he drove off before closing and locking the door. She moved over to the phone, picking it up.

“Pacho. You there?” She asked her voice cracking slightly.

“Yes. I’m here. I’m almost home honey. Is he still there?” He inquired, his own voice shaking.

“No. He’s gone. Ya know… I expected your dad to be a piece of work, but I never thought that I would want to immediately strangle him once he started talking,” She tried to joke, but in all honesty, she was a bit freaked out.

She hears him snort before replying, “Yeah. He’s… something.”

“How… how far away are you?” She asked in a whisper.

“5 minutes. Tops. Salcedo has already… detained… my father who we passed by on our way in. He won’t be bothering you anymore,” Pacho firmly stated.

“I’ll see you in a few then?” She confirmed as she took a seat on the couch.

“Yes. I’ll see you in a moment,” Pacho tells her.

She slowly hung up, waiting on the couch for him. In a minute, the room was filled with guards and Pacho.

Pacho walked over to her, his eyes roaming over her, as he checked her.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Pacho questioned as he looked her over.

“No. I’m okay. He just… unnerved me a bit,” She answered him.

Diego popped up next to them, whispering something in Pacho’s ear. Pacho simply nodded in response, his eyes never leaving hers.

The whole house was buzzing about with tension; several people were trying to figure out where the hell the guards were that was supposed to be there. Why was he able to come on the grounds?

Blix was tired of everyone fussing over her, 10 minutes had passed and everyone and their mom it felt, had come to ask her if she was okay. She stood up, and made her way upstairs, away from everyone and their concern.

She hid in her room, keeping the door locked. She went to bed, but it was a fitful sleep. When she finally woke up the next day, she felt exhausted as she sat up. She quietly got ready for the day, hoping a shower would wake her up, and wash away the funk she felt. She walked into her closet trying to decide what to wear, when she heard a rumble of thunder, followed by the sound of rain.

“Guess that answers that,” She mumbled to herself as she grabbed jeans, a shirt, and some boots.

She quietly got ready, unlocking her door, as soon as she was dressed. She strolled downstairs, smiling smally at the sight of Diego, who was leaning against the back of the couch, waiting.

“Hey. Ready to get out of here for a bit?” Diego asked her when he sees her.

She nodded, looking around. She spied Pacho in the kitchen, she slowly walked over to him. He was finishing up a phone call, when he spotted her. Once he hung up, he made his way to her.

“I’m sorry for just… leaving the room last night. Not used to that many people fussing over me. It was a bit overwhelming,” She whispered as he stood before her.

“It’s okay beautiful. I’m just glad you are okay. My father… he won’t be bothering us ever again. I’m sorry you had to deal with him by yourself. He should have never been able to get to the house,” Pacho said pulling her into his arms.

She hugged him back with a sigh.

“I hear you and Diego are spending the day together?” Pacho mentioned with a curious look.

“Yeah. I mean… we both care about you. May as well get along right? So, we are going to go get to know another,” Blix explained scratching the back of her neck.

“I like that you two are spending time together. Though now you two will conspire against me I feel. But I’ll deal with that later,” Pacho teased as he walked her back into the living room.

She chuckled at that, grabbing a jacket and an umbrella that was offered to her, as her and Diego made their way out to his car.

“Alright. Where we going first?” Blix asked as they started to drive.

“Figured we could go grab a bite to eat to go, followed by either some shopping or we could go to a museum?” Diego listed out as he fiddled with the radio for a moment.

“Food yes. Shopping maybe. Museum. Hmm. I’d be down for that. Be nice to go to museum that I don’t have to investigate,” Blix replied nodding her head to the music that was now blasting from the radio.

Livin on a Prayer by Bon Jovi was playing, and she began to rock out to it. Diego laughed for a moment before joining her.

When they got into downtown Cali, they picked up some muffins and hot teas to drink. They ate as they drove to a nearby museum. They parked, dashing inside the museum trying to avoid the rain as much as possible. They strolled around the museum, talking about each piece that caught their interests. Diego was apparently quite a history buff.

Blix looked at him with a soft smile.

“What? What’s with that look?” Diego questioned as they were finishing up their walk around.

“Nothing. It’s… it’s nice talking to someone who knows what I’m talking about without… having to explain 30 other events and situations. It’s honestly nice, having someone else explain new facts to me,” She explained with a shrug.

“Clearly, you haven’t dated the right men. Pacho especially loves art, ask him to take you to an auction sometime. He’d loved that,” Diego joked, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Hm. Loves art eh? Is that why he bought a Caravaggio without verifying it was real?” Blix snorted as they walked into the gift shop.

Diego choked on a laugh, “Oof. Well. First off, Miguel bought that and gifted it to Pacho. Pacho only kept it up because it was a gift. He hated it otherwise.”

“Good to know. So, where should we go after this?” Blix asked staring at some trinkets.

“Don’t know. Where do you like to shop?” Diego asked picking up a glass figurine, staring at it before putting it back down.

She bit her lip at the thought that came to mind.

“Ever been thrift store shopping?” She inquired, with a raised eyebrow.

Diego looked at her surprised, “Noo. You… you like thrift stores?”

“Yeah? Duh. Do I look like the kind of person who likes to shop at fancy-schmancy places?” Blix countered gesturing to her outfit.

“Soulmate. That’s what you are. Let’s go!” He excitedly said dragging her out to the car.

The two of them spent the next several hours, going to various thrift shops, trying on outfits and being goofy. The two of them both bought several things from each shop, items varying from outfits to accessories.

When they had their fill of shopping, they grabbed a bite to eat, parked on the side of the road, munching away happily.

“I don’t ask this to annoy you, but are you okay after last night? I’ve had the displeasure of meeting their father as well. It’s…” He trailed off making a face.

“Yeah. I’m okay. It was just unnerving how much he and Pacho looked a like,” Blix noted with a small shudder.

“Same. Took me a while to separate that what he said, did not come from Pacho himself. This is the third time he’s appeared out of nowhere and it’ll be the last. You can always talk to me about it. Pacho… he knows how terrible his father is but doesn’t quite understand why it’s hard to get over the things his father says,” Diego commented.

Blix nodded with a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

The two of them finished their meal, tossing the remains into a nearby public trashcan. As they made their way back to Pacho’s house they talked about their pasts. He knew a great deal about hers so, he was telling her mostly about himself.

“Parents abandoned me when I was a kid. Bounced around in the foster system for a long while. When I was 17, I ran off, decided I wanted to make my own way through the world. Ran into Pacho, quite literally, and my life changed from that day forward,” Diego began.

“How did you ‘quite literally’ run into Pacho? Explain that good sir,” Blix wondered with a teasing smile.

“Was running from a cop, stole food cause I was hungry, and ran right into Pacho. Cop was fortunately on the Cali’s payroll, so Pacho just waved him off. Took me in, 2 months later we were together, and have been since,” Diego told her with a laugh.

Blix laughed softly at that, listening to him tell more stories about himself.

Soon enough they had pulled up to the house, and after grabbing as many bags as they could, they hurried inside. It took a few minutes to sort out what went to who, but soon enough they had parted to go placed their stuff in their rooms.

She was hanging stuff up when she heard Pacho’s voice, “Did you two have fun?”

She looked toward him, before skipping over to him, “Yes. We did. It was a good bonding experience.”

Pacho shook his head at that, pressing a kiss to her lips softly.

“Would you like to come swim with us? I think Diego may be a bit in love with you. Something about history and thrift shopping?” He ribbed lightly.

She kissed him back, walking over to her closet to grab a bathing suit. She grabbed a two piece, changing into it quickly. It was times like this she was glad his pool was indoors. She grabbed a towel, following Pacho to his room, where he changed as well.

Pacho after getting dressed, stopped and stared at her for a moment. He was checking her out, a smirk growing on his face as he examined her.

She noticed his staring, “What?”

“Just admiring you,” He stated simply as he walked forward.

She looked down and away, a slight warmth to her cheeks.

“Snake charmer. That’s all you are,” She muttered as she turned and led the way to the pool.

Pacho’s smirk only grew, especially as he was treated to her backside.

“Stop staring at my ass,” She called over shoulder.

Pacho slowly caught up to her as they entered the pool house. Diego was already doing some laps when they joined him. The water was warm, as she stepped in, dunking herself when she got in deep enough. She floated calmly as she heard the guys goofing around and splashing each other.

She felt one of them swim up to her, and she turned her head to see who appeared.

“May I ask where all of these scars came from?” Diego politely requested as he looked at her.

She straightened up, to stand, wadded over to the edge, pulling herself up to sit on it.

“Ask away,” She granted, ringing water out of her hair.

He came up to her and would point at a scar. Her answers tended to be brief as she explained them, many were from work and others were from her childhood.

Pacho had at some point joined them, listening quietly. Once she was done, Pacho slowly pulled her back into the pool. As she rejoined them in the water, Pacho kissed the side of her neck, gently. She turned her head to him, kissing his cheek. She moved forward, wanting to do some laps before she got too tired.

When she was done, she got out, wrapping her towel around her, watching Pacho & Diego for a moment. While they were distracted, she made her way inside the house, briefly stopping to get a drink. It was while she was taking a sip of her Pepsi that she heard a strange noise. Setting her drink down, she moved toward the sound, which led to the basement door.

She knew she should let it go and ignore it, but she couldn’t help herself. She opened the door, walking down the dimly stairs. As she reached the bottom there was a lone light shining onto a man, tied down to a chair.

She realized as she got closer that it was Mr. Herrera, who had been badly beaten. His head lulled up to look at her, hearing her footsteps.

“Well, well, well. My son’s whore. What brings you here? Want to take a few hits too?” He taunted, spitting out blood.

“No. Heard a noise. Making sure the house wasn’t haunted. Now that I see that it’s just you… well. I think I’ll let you die alone and miserable,” She responded disgusted.

She turned away from him, planning to just go back to her room.

“Wait. Don’t you turn your back on me. Come back here,” He demanded, with a groan and a cough.

“No. Don’t think I will. Enjoy the rest of your life. However short it may be,” She stated not turning around.

She could hear him yelling more profanities at her as she closed the basement door, grabbing her drink, and going upstairs.

Unaware that Pacho had seen her emerge from that room, he listened to his father’s shouts for a minute before ordering Navegante to get rid of him. He found Blix in her room, grabbing clothes to change into for bed, after her shower.

“You should join me in my room, once you are done,” He told her, causing her to jump slightly as she wasn’t expecting him.

“Christ! Clearly need to throw a bell on you, so I have a warning system,” Blix startled, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Pacho apologized before requesting. “I know that…sometimes curiosity can get the best of us. Do me a favor, please don’t go down to the basement anymore. For your own safety.”

“I promise. I’m going to go clean up, and then I’ll join you in your room,” She promised him.

About 20 minutes later, she was strolling into Pacho’s room. She had finished her drink beforehand and joined him on the bed.

“Diego joining us?” She wondered.

“Not tonight, he has other plans,” He whispered to her.

“Your dad… was he always like that? Or was he just good at hiding his hate before he found out about you?” She asked him, shaking her head.

“Hm. Let’s just say… my mother left him for a good reason. She was trying to gain full custody of us when he kicked me out. I didn’t care much. I was moreso worried about Alvaro. I was able to help my mother gain custody of him at least,” Pacho explained, as he wrapped his arms around her.

She returned his embrace, “That’s good….” She paused for a second. “I assume Navegante took care of him.”

Pacho nodded in response, and Blix simply said, “Good.”

She burrowed herself into his arms, growing tired.

“I did want to thank you though. For defending my honor. Not many people would be willing to shoot at their partner’s parent. In fact…” Pacho trailed off, as his hand slowly slid down her curves.

His hand languidly found its way into her sleep shorts, moving past her underwear. His fingers ran themselves up and down her slit, toying with her folds lightly. She took in a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed against her clit.

He gently slid a finger inside her, making a come-hither motion, before a second finger joined. The palm of his hand brushed against her clit teasingly, slowly working her up. Her body was growing warm, and breath short as his movements became more deliberate.

Soon his fingers found a spot that made her gasp loudly, her hands trying to find purchase wherever. His fingers moved over that spot several times, leading her to a swift orgasm. She rode out her orgasm for a moment or two before he pulled his hand away.

“Well. I was tired, but now I don’t really want to sleep,” She moaned softly.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Pacho groaned as he rolled them over slightly, laying on top of her.

They spent the rest of the night trying to wear each other out.

#pacho herrera #narcos #pacho herrera x oc

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of-elves-and-mad-hatters · 4 years ago

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“The Azure Sky” - Chapter 2 - Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace.

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide.

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm.

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

_______________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

_______________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2

Shaking, Emily pushes herself up to her knees, viewing the scenary around her with shock and confusion. Trees extend in every direction, leaves mottled with unusual tones of pinks and violet. The silky soft grass glistens in the light, though as she runs her hands of the blades, she finds them dry of dew. Despite the density of the foliage, the sun illuminates the area to the brightness of midday during the summer. Birds chorus grandly behind the anonimity of the branches.

“Who are you?”

Emily jumps, turning to find a girl looming curiously behind her, though perhaps that would not be the most accurate term. She looks odd, dressed in a bright magenta dress cut and sewn to mimic flames and embroidered with some sort of baroque designs, though it’s hard to tell since most are faded and stained. Her tan skin is marked by bright tattoos on one shoulder and her face, emboldening her warm brown eyes and burgundy and marigold hair, the long, chaotic curls draped like a canopy from her narrow head. Two sharp, pointed ears complete the bizarre ensemble.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce yourself after falling through a portal?” The corners of the girl’s lips curve impishly upwards.

“Portal?” Emily stutters out, staring at the being before her with the same wariness one would watch a racoon.

“Yeah, the one you just came through?” the girl rasps. She leans closer, hands on her hips. She cocks her head. “How did you open one anyways? That kind of magic is super hard to learn, kept locked away by a bunch of grouchy ancients who jump at their own shadows.”

“Um, I don’t…know really…”

“What do you mean you don’t…” the girl stops short as Emily tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not an elf.”

“No…I’m human” Emily answers. Her voice drops hesitantly. “What’s an elf?”

“Well, I am,” the girls begins, but she seems distracted. She studies Emily’s clothes, “You must be from that other realm, the one the Great Sisters made a portal to a century and a half ago, with all those humans.”

“I guess so.” Emily chuckles slowly. Portals, elves, much more likely she’s lying on the ground in her grandmother’s garden in a coma and dreaming. Consequences of being a clutz.

“You don’t know how you got here, do you?” Emily shakes her head. The girls smiles fondly and extends her hand, “Well I guess we’re just gonna have to figure that out aren’t we?” She pulls Emily to her feet. “I’m Azari, fire elf, and I have a feeling this is going to be quite an adventure.” A rogue-ish smile breaks onto her face, and she looks overall like a fanciful devil.

Emily swallows her nerves and forces a smile. “I’m Emily, and I sincerely hope not.”

Azari laughs, the sound rolling through the air with the intensity of a wildire.

__________________________________________

Fire elf in the lead, the pair hustle down the grassy hill. This vantage point, to which Emily had been facing away from when she landed in this place, looks down upon a vibrant blue lagoon, framed on either side by jagged mountains. Azari turns onto a path to the right, leading to a sloping outcropping ornamented with unusual apple trees.

“Where are we going?”

“To Farran Leafshade, earth elf, and general buzzkill. His idea of fun is studying different kinds of dirt.” Azari wrinkles her nose. “Who does that? Of all the elves I know, earth and not, even those in agriculture think that’s the most boring part of the job. What kind of person do you have to be in order to want to do that in your free time?”

“A little weird, I guess, but I’m sure he’s a great guy…elf..person..thing…”

Azari shrugs. “He could do with a little spontenaity every now and then. Live a little, you know? Anyways he’s pretty in tune with all the goings of the forest, plus his home is where we all get together for anything important.”

Emily looks quizically at her. “You all?”

“Me, Farran, Aira and Naida. We’ve all been friends since forever.”

Emily nods. “And do you think they might know how I got here, and maybe how to get home?”

“Maybe, Aira and Naida know the legend of the Great Sisters better than I do, I get bored with history. Besides, Naida’s mother’s mother was one of the Sisters who created the portal in the first place. We might be able to go to her for help.”

“Who are the Great Sisters?”

“Well they’re,” Azari stops short and shakes her head. “No, I better let one of the others explain. I always get the details mixed up.”

As they near the pinacle of the slope, a sophistcated treehouse becomes visible through some of the towering branches. Seated on a set of roughly hewn steps is a male elf. He has a fairly light complexion, muted lime green eyes, and a wavy mess of short, dark brown hair that almost conceals the tips of his ears. He holds a pad of paper and a pencil in his hand, conversing with an elven girl standing to his right. She’s slim, but not overly tall, pale face accented with lavender eyes and hair, the latter pulled into a rather elaborate ponytail, though quite a number of strands have loosened. She wears a strange winged contraption, to which her fingers are busy adjusting the straps.

“Remember to time it correctly this time,” she chides the boy, her voice light and airy.

“I know,” he grumbles, leaning forward to rest his head tiredly on his hand. “After forty-five test flights, one can have the tendency to make a mistake.”

“Nonsense, that only means it should be perfectly engrained into your muscle memory.” She tightens one last strap. “There. Now in five, four, three…”

“Aira! Farran!” Azari calls.

The purple-haired girl turns, her face erupting into a beaming smile. “Azari! So good to see you! Who’s your friend? She looks odd, why are her ears so round?” The words flit from her mouth with the speed of a hummingbird.

Emily, overwhelmed, only stares dumbly in response.

“Aira, that’s not polite,” the boy gently rebukes, striding over to join them. “I’m Farran Folasion. This is Aira Arlaynaiel. It’s a blessing to meet you.”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Farran,” Azari responds. “This is Emily, and she’s a human.”

“A human? This far north? How?” The boy asks incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Emily starts shyly. “I guess I came through some sort of portal. There aren’t any elves where I come from, least that anyone knows about.”

Aira’s eyes widen. “The gates of Great Sisters!”

Azari nods. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“We have to find Naida!” Aira exclaims.

The fire elf smirks. “Also what I was thinking.”

Gushing, Aira and her sweep Emily off in a new direction down the hill. The air elf buzzes with excitement, chattering with such speed that Emily can’t make sense of half of what comes out of her mouth, but it seems to be spurts of curious questions about her human-ness alternating with speculations of the significance of her appearance in Elvendale. It seems whatever these gates or portals were, they were supposed to be permanently sealed decades ago.

Farran trails just behind the group, and unlike his companions, his face is devoid of anything cheerful. He casts skeptical glances towards Emily, concern creasing his brow. He runs one hand anxiously through his hair. He sighs.

At least they’re going to see Naida, the wisest of their little group. She would be the voice of caution Azari and Aira desperately need to hear.

#lego elves #elvendale #unite the magic #fanfiction #emily jones #azari firedancer #farran leafshade #aira windwhistler

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years ago

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Wasting Time | Diego Hargreeves

✦ pairing — Diego Hargreeves x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 4.1k

✦ summary— you’re an anti-love loner who somehow managed to get matched to someone by an enthusiastic and friendly pro-love super person.

✦ warnings — some angst, I think this has some comedy, probably language, Asha (OC) is a sweetheart and I would die for her, fluff.

✦ a/n — this is a repost due to tagging issues from a week-ish ago

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Your mom left the restaurant in a hurry. She had a friend to meet up with, she reminded you a few times throughout the meal as she complained about your lack of romantic partner and friends.

Romance wasn’t for you. It didn’t even make sense. There wasn’t much to it, you had never seen it end well.

As for friendships, you had never been good at bonding with people. Back in college, you had hollow acquaintanceships at best, transactional relationships like most tended to be.

You were supposed to meet up with your mom to catch up after a couple of busy weeks, but you had sadly forgotten how intense she got with the topic of love.

She acted like you would never be happy on your own. Perhaps there was some truth in there, but if there was, she would have to take responsibility because she was complicit.

A random person tapped your shoulder. Craning your neck to the side to acknowledge them, you waited for them to say whatever it was they needed from you.

“Hi! I’m Asha!”

“I’m not interested,” you breathed out, looking past her to ask for the check.

Asha sat down in front of you. “I know you think love is a waste of time, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last, but all of you are wrong.”

You were sure Asha’s intentions were pure, but you didn’t need to hear fairytale-like arguments for love. And you definitely didn’t feel comfortable around eavesdroppers.

She followed you to the parking lot, spewing things about how beautiful romance was. Nothing you hadn’t heard before in songs and films. Which meant everything she was saying was bullshit.

Pulling the door of your car open, you snapped at her, “Could you please leave me alone?!”

You wished it had worked. She started following you throughout the day, smiling at you and asking you if you had changed your mind.

Surrounded by sweet smell and beautiful colors, you walked through the farmers market. You didn’t even understand how had she been able to follow you by foot when you were driving, but you wouldn’t let her ruin this.

“Strawberries are aphrodisiacs.”

“They taste good in smoothies,” you countered, paying for the berries and nodding as a thank you to the vendor.

Someone grabbed Asha by the arm. “What do you think you are doing?”

Asha gasped, smiling brightly. “Diego! This is perfect.”

A sharp sting went through your arm. You had always attracted mosquitoes, but their bites had never made you feel weird.

And boy, did you feel weird. The urge to hug the man in front of you overcame you, and as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he opened his arms for you.

“He’s cuddly, right?” Asha’s sweet tone filled your ears.

Well, yes. His shirt was soft and he smelled good, extremely good — holy shit, why couldn’t other men smell like him?

“Your hair smells so good,” he blurted.

What a nice voice! His words and tone gave you goosebumps. Your stomach flipped as his arms tightened around your waist, prompting you to take a better whiff of his cologne.

You hoped he would never let go of you. It was hot outside yet you needed his warmth like you needed air.

Wait, what?

You pulled away from him, trying to find an excuse as to why you had hugged a stranger.

And why had you liked it?

Asha grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his. “This is Diego,” she introduced him to you, “he’s meant to be your romantic partner for life.”

Diego sighed, withdrawing his hand. “What have I told you about doing this?!”

“She wasn’t joking?” You asked, eyes going back and forth between the two.

He shook his head. “Have you heard of The Umbrella Academy?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Yeah. All of you are superheroes.”

“Her powers are like Cupid’s.”

“Cupid’s behavior was childish at first,” Asha defended herself. “Mine isn’t.”

You waited for the punchline of the joke. It never came. He was 100% serious and you were bound to him now.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to get to know each other!”

Her words hit you instantly. “We don’t know each other,” you exclaimed, “I’m sure we won’t miss the other or anything...”

“We can just avoid each other!” Diego completed your thought, nodding along. “Perfect. I’m sorry for my sister.”

You swatted a hand. “No biggie.”

Oh, how wrong you had been. You spent your entire afternoon eating strawberries and watching tv, wondering what Diego was doing.

The subsequent days weren’t too different. Not from the strawberry part, you ran out of those too quickly.

You had many questions, less about the bond or whatever it was called and more about him. What he liked and disliked, why he did so...

It was stupid and pointless.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You stretched, whining. You couldn’t sleep, no matter which position you tried or what remedy from the Internet you put to the test.

A knock was bestowed upon the door. You whined again, throwing your sleep mask onto the bed and reaching for your pajama pants.

You turned the lights on as you crossed the apartment on your way towards the door. Noisily, you unlocked it.

Diego waved at you, trying to smile. He had a busted lip that was bleeding just like his eyebrow.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I— I d—don’t...”

You frowned, grabbing him by the front of his vest to pull him into the apartment. Closing the door, you softly asked, “Do you need water?”

Diego shook his head, lifting his hands for you to give him a moment. You extended an arm, inviting him to take a seat in the living room.

Observing how swollen his face was, you walked toward the kitchen and looked for something to put on the area.

Fuck, you should’ve saved that ice just in case. Oh, well, a pack of frozen cauliflower and broccoli would do.

You pressed the cold bag on his cheek, waiting for him to hold it to let go of it. He grunted a thank you.

“Did your vigilante thing go wrong?”

Diego moved the bag for a moment to speak properly. “I felt like shit and needed to see you. I feel better now.”

“Yeah, that’s called codependency.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

You sighed, throwing your head back to rest it against the wall. “I am not blaming you.”

”You’re taking this too calmly. How?”

“I’m used to being by myself all the time, it looks like you are not.”

“You don’t feel like you can’t breathe without me?”

“No.” His disappointed look was the worst thing you had ever been forced to see in your life. The pang in your chest stopped when you told him, “I feel better when I see you, though. Less anxious.”

“Why do you think it is?”

You shrugged. “Maybe love doesn’t feel the same for everyone. Or whatever Asha did to us.”

His heart skipped a beat. “That sounds nice. Us.”

“Are you going soft on me?”

Diego pursed his lips together, glaring at you. He immediately hissed.

You took the bag off his hand and put it back into the freezer. Exchanging the pack for a ziplock bag with pineapple, you carefully rested it on his jaw, making sure it touched his lip too.

“Baby...”

“Don’t,” you warned him, ignoring the thrill down your spine upon hearing the pet name.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Every night you waited for him to knock upon your door, and although he didn’t do it every day of the week, you always opened.

He had hugged you once or twice in greeting. Much to your dismay, it had felt nice.

This specific time he hugged you tighter, holding you for as long as you allowed him to. It saddened you, knowing this was the highlight of his day. And yours.

Before meeting him, you went to bed early and woke up at dawn. Now you happily skipped sleep to hang out with him.

Diego was nice when he wasn’t being overbearing, funny even. But you would never tell him that.

“Can’t you make your sister undo it?” You asked, opening a bottle of beer for him. His favorite brand, which you had started buying after he brought a pack a few weeks ago.

He took a swig of beer. “It can’t be undone, that’s the point.”

“I won’t feel cheated on if you find someone else,” you assured him.

“But I want you!”

“Diego, I’m not made for this, okay? It doesn’t matter if I want it or not.”

“I have the worst fucking luck in the world,” he lamented, gulping down half of his beverage. “My girlfriends either die, try to kill me and my family, or hate me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the only boyfriend I’ve had got married to the cousin I hate the most.”

“He’s a dick. I’m hotter than him.”

Well, you weren’t going to deny that. Pouring yourself some wine, you lifted the glass to clink it with his bottle of beer.

“Is he the reason why you hate love?”

Putting the glass down after taking a gulp, you shook your head. “Not really. He was more like... the confirmation? I always thought it was a waste of time, and too absurd, and corny — but everyone I knew had a partner and I didn’t want to be left out. When he dumped me for my cousin and married her, I was proven right.”

“Well, duh.” Diego rolled his eyes playfully. “You didn’t date someone you liked.”

“I’ve never liked someone.”

“I’m offended.”

“Willingly, smartass.”

He pointed with his bottle. “What about your mom?”

“I tolerate her.”

“Dad?”

“Would kill him if I could get away with it.”

“Siblings?”

“I hate my stepbrother.”

“Asha?” He teased.

You confessed. “Oh, well, she’s nice. She means well, at least.”

“What about me?” He insisted.

Shrugging, you refilled your glass. “You’re not bad when you’re talking casually.”

“Is this about my stutter?”

“Of course not, I’m not an asshole. I just hate it when you talk about me like you need me to survive when you clearly don’t.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Closest thing you’ll get me to give you one.”

Giving you a cocky smile, he moved to sit down beside you on the floor. ”You didn’t deny it, you know?“

“Didn’t deny what?”

“That you’re my girlfriend.”

You shoved him playfully, shaking your head as you tried not to laugh. “Will you ever give up?”

“Realistically?”

Both of you chorused, “No.”

“Exactly.”

It was fabricated infatuation. He wanted an idealized version of you, like everyone did when they had crushes only to find out everything they like about their significant other or love interest is a lie made up by their own brains.

Leaving the glass to the side, you drank straight from the bottle. “Would you like me even if Asha hadn’t...”

“Yes.”

You chuckled incredulously, “Why?”

“You’re smart, responsible, really pretty — and believe or not, you’re nice.”

You cupped his cheek, blinking rapidly. His skin was soft to the touch, a little warm too. Diego leaned forward, holding your chin between his index and thumb. His lips were so close, you could practically feel his bottom lip on your upper lip.

Fully realizing what was going on as your eyes threatened to lie closed, you turned your head to the side. Your hand fell to his shoulder, middle finger grazing his neck.

“Stop leading me on!”

“I can’t help it!”

“Just give in,” he whispered on your cheek. “I won’t break your heart.”

“I will break yours.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You just complained because I lead you on.”

“And you said it wasn’t on purpose. People make mistakes in stressful situations.”

You shook your head, completely moving away from his touch as you stood up. “Feel free to crash on the couch for the night.”

Diego didn’t say anything, but you heard him leave minutes later from your bedroom.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Asha had insisted on befriending you. She wasn’t bad company — although too bubbly and jumpy from what you were used to, she was willing to tone it down for you.

As bad as it sounded, she also served as a distraction. And who were you kidding? It was nice to have a friend.

You waited for her to finish her ice cream cone to speak, mostly because you were scared she would stamp it on your face.

“Would you find a way to undo it if I admit to having understood the importance of love?”

Asha smiled, playing with her hands on her lap, on top of the yellow skirt you had suggested would fit her perfectly. “Why would I undo it if you understand that now?”

Focusing your eyes on the dogs playing on the grass, you admitted, “I don’t like it, I feel weak. And having someone only care about me because of your influence doesn’t help.”

“I can’t match people who are incompatible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? That Diego and I are meant to be together because of some sort of fate?”

She giggled. “No, you just fit well together. But maybe you want it to be different...”

“I just want to have control over this, Asha! I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Why?” She tilted her head as she asked. It was like the idea was foreign to her.

“Because I miss him!” Your voice lowered then, “And I know he misses me too. He has to whether he likes it or not.”

“But you want him to do it on his own.”

You nodded, ashamed, as you felt her bright eyes on the side of your face.

“I don’t influence or manipulate what people think or feel, (Name),” she explained, resting a warm hand on your thigh in attempts to comfort you. “I only match people who will feel things similarly. That’s the gift I’ve given you and Diego, I’m sorry you haven’t been able to see it like that.”

That wasn’t comforting at all. Not now. If she had said it earlier... meh, it wouldn’t have worked. She knew you well, it seemed.

Turns out you weren’t as closed off as you liked to think.

Asha grabbed your hand, standing up as she looked at you with those big eyes of hers. They shone with determination, and for the first time since you befriended her, you felt a little scared of what she would do.

But you trusted her. Standing up, you made sure your cellphone was in your pocket and allowed her to drag you wherever she wanted to take you.

Asha made a few stops. You saw her use her powers on two gals who were clearly on a friend-date at a restaurant. According to Asha, they both were scared of telling the other how they felt. Childhood friends, she explained.

The other stop was at a coffee shop where she ordered one of those extremely sweet frappes. She made you taste it, and although you weren’t a fan and would never order something like that, you had to admit you were starting to see the appeal.

But the third stop... oh, boy, that one was unexpected. You stared up at the gymnasium’s sign, confused and a little bit offended.

“Are you implying I should start working out?”

Asha snickered. “I’m strongly suggesting you should talk to Diego.”

Right, he worked at a gym — how could you have forgotten? Scratch the unexpected part, this was the most Asha thing ever.

The place was busy with people from all genders, some of them were taking laps and others were training on the rings.

“Okay, (Name),” you whispered to yourself, “you can do this. How hard can it be?”

Too hard. The closer you got to where he was standing, the hardest you found it. Embarrassing yourself had never been something you had been through, ignoring people for decades had given you a lot of advantages and that had been your personal favorite.

You turned on your heels, determined to leave and never come back. This was such a bad idea! You were in his territory, vulnerable, and only accompanied by his sister who would probably be on his side.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped, immediately turning around. Fuck. Your throat locked up. Diego nodded upward, encouraging you to speak. He looked good, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top — all black as he usually did.

You couldn’t look at him in the eyes as you examined the place, looking for Asha. It didn’t look like a place where she would enjoy herself, but no one ever knew with her; she was full of surprises.

“She left already,” Diego deadpanned.

Your mouth hung open. You weren’t really surprised, but words weren’t willing to come out. This was the first time you had tried to articulate a meaningful apology.

The fake ones were so easy! You were even able to get poetic with those, making promises you didn’t intend to keep to people you weren’t going to see ever again because there had never been a reason to stay.

“You didn’t go to the market yesterday.” He tried to say it casually.

“I went to visit my mom.”

“Oh, I see tolerance is going well.”

You huffed a laugh. “Something like that. Not much luck with my stepbrother yet, though.”

“At least you’re trying.”

“I should be more open, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

You allowed silence to settle. You needed it to, it had been your best friend for so long that you didn’t know how to cope without its looming presence.

You were nervous, this was your only chance to apologize. What if he didn’t accept the apology?

“I’m sorry, Diego,” you mumbled, “I didn’t want things to go this way.”

“You didn’t want things to go at all.”

“Why would I?” You didn’t want to fight him, but you were desperate for him to see things from your perspective.

“There are a lot of reasons. I don’t think people can be happy completely alone.”

“Okay, you’re right, but you wanted me to jump into something more. Such a big leap when I’ve been living and doing most things on my own since I was 19 is scary.”

“Want,” he corrected you.

You both stood with your backs against the wall, watching the people training as they threw punches. He crossed his arms, focused on the youngest of the trainees.

You turned to look at him. “I know Asha can’t undo the bond, but you don’t need this type of connection to date someone.”

“Maybe that’s why it never worked.” Diego shrugged, sticking his bottom lip out. “I like how this feels. He added, “When you’re not turning me down.”

“So never?” you joked.

Diego chuckled, eyes still on the young trainee. He looked like a teen, no older than 15. “When we talk like this. Or when you empty your freezer to treat my swollen face...”

“Oh, so you only like me for my frozen veggies.”

“God, I wish.” Diego placed his hand on your shoulder, “Give me a moment. Don’t go!”

Nodding, you watched him approach the teen. They exchanged a few words — well, Diego seemed to be questioning the poor boy who only gave short verbal answers or moved his head to reply.

Diego threw his arm around the teen, pulling him close into a half-hug. Both got closer to you as Diego guided the teen towards the exit, still chatting.

“Thank you, Diego,” the teen said with a nod as Diego withdrew his arm from his shoulders. “Good night, Ms,” he acknowledged you.

“Good night,” you answered politely.

Diego smiled, huffing through his nose.

“Has he been training here for a while?” you asked once the young trainee had left.

Standing closer to you now, he told you more about the teen, “Brandon started last month. He’s a good kid. Stubborn, but his heart is in the right place.”

“Like you?”

Diego lifted his eyebrows, unable to hide his smile. “Did you just compliment me?”

“What would you do if I said yes?”

“You won’t like my answer.”

You bit your bottom lip. “Try me.”

He freed your lip from your teeth with his thumb, caressing it. “Don’t tempt me, baby.”

Your face heated up. God, the things Diego was doing to you...

Grinning, he bopped your nose. “You are adorable.”

“I am not trying to be adorable,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“That’s part of the charm.” He looked up, checking the time on the clock above you. “I’m technically free in less than an hour.”

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

Diego wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Rolling your eyes, you hit him on the shoulder with your fist. “The other things!”

“Oh, yeah.” He rubbed his shoulder even though you hadn’t hit him hard. “I can do them even later.”

“We can talk even later,” you tried to reason with him.

He tutted. “I know you, and you’ll find an excuse.”

You didn’t understand what Diego had done to you, or how Asha’s powers really worked, but you were willing to compromise, to show him you wanted to talk to him and fix things.

So accompanied by a sigh, you made a gesture with your hands, indicating that you would wait for him to be done.

You had never been so eager to spend time with someone, not even as a child when your neighbor would come over for a play date.

Diego casually offered his hand to you, patiently waiting for you to either take it or reject him.

Unsure, you inched your hand closer to his. He gazed down, taking the trajectory of your hand in. Sighing contently when your palm finally rested against his, he wiggled your fingers open.

His fingers fit between yours perfectly, his palm was warm and calloused, slightly scarred. Suddenly Asha’s judgment didn’t sound too bad.

Swinging your clasped hands, Diego asked more about what you had done the past week. You kept to yourself the part about missing him, but shared everything else — including that horrible fight with your dad, and the movie Asha made you see at a midnight screening.

He told you about his apartment-hunting journey and how tedious it was. You recalled his offhand comment about wanting to move out of the boiler room, so you kept to yourself the fact that he would need another job to be able to afford it.

Ruining the night was the last thing you wanted to do.

Dropping the keys onto the coffee table, you walked directly into the kitchen. He followed you, turning the lights on.

Diego opened your fridge to take a drink out and chuckled happily. “Aww, you bought my favorite beer even though we were mad at each other.”

You stood behind him, reaching for the jug of water as you corrected him, “I wasn’t mad.”

“Well, I was.”

“Not anymore?”

“Nope.”

You smiled to yourself, pouring water into a glass. He grabbed the jug from your grasp, storing it in the fridge for you.

Mirroring your smile —outshining it in your opinion— he said, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re flirty today.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” Diego feigned offense.

Frowning, you picked your glass and took a gulp of water. Asha tired you out earlier by dragging you all over town, but compared with how disappointing hearing him say that was, the tiredness was fine.

Placing the bottle on the counter, he clarified, “I meant that I was only stating the obvious.”

You put the glass down. “I am not used to this, sorry.”

He rested his hands on your arms. “It’s okay. I just want to know something...”

You hummed. “Anything.”

“What made you change your mind?”

You fiddled with the unbuttoned shirt he had thrown on top of his tank top. “I can’t sleep when you don’t visit.”

“That can’t be it.”

You conceded, “It’s not everything, but it sums it all up.”

“How slow do you want to go?”

You shrugged. “Do I look like I have a clue?”

“No,” he laughed. Diego inched a hand up to your neck, thumb rubbing your cheek. “Can I kiss you? I promise you can push me off you whenever you want, I won’t get mad.”

“Okay.”

Softly, he pressed his lips against yours. The slow kiss was a nice change from what you had experienced in the past, Diego wasn’t kissing you to get something more out of you or to forget about somebody else — Diego was kissing you because he wanted to do it, because he wanted you.

You pulled him closer, gripping the collar of his shirt. He smiled into the kiss, dropping his other hand to your waist.

Having Diego this close was everything but a waste of time, you decided, kissing him harder as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

#diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x plus size reader #diego hargreeves #the umbrella academy

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darth-mendax · 4 years ago

Text

Mendax and the Wolffe: One-shot Fic

A/N: Yes, I made this a while ago, yes it’s dirty, and yes I did it for my enjoyment. I am sorry for making this.

WARNING: It’s a dirty fic, man. You know what you gotta watch for. Stay safe bois. Also, the clones are being nasty lil boys, especially Wolffe being feral

Word Count: 5k-ish

Pairing: Darth Mendax x Commander Wolffe, OC x Wolffe

Ahsoka, Maul and his new, previously Jedi love Eli, weren’t resting on the random forest planet when evening was approaching. Eli had decided to try and save a few new clones from the wrath of this new Empire born from Sidious. Cody was their first target, and were going to supposedly deliver him to Kenobi. I felt it wasn’t wise to bring Maul on that adventure, but Eli argued against my opinion. Wherever Eli went, Maul followed. Now, I was stuck sitting near a growing campfire and surrounded by a couple clones and their downed ships acting more as shelter. I’d only learned their names when we first got here a few days ago.

The clones were relatively easy to tell apart, thank the Maker. The only blonde there was Rex, formerly Captain of the 501st. He had a blonde buzzcut, a clean shave but stubble was close to growing in, and his legs looked like they could kick her head clean off.

Next was a brash clone of the 501st named Fives, easy to pick out from the tattoo of the number five on his temple. He had short hair like Rex, only he had black hair, as well and a goatee like beard. He’d been injured badly, but he was healing relatively fast.

Jesse was next, almost like a child of the 501st group (based on personality). He was playfully flirty to me at times, but overall, was like sunshine after rain. He had a large tattoo of the previous Galactic Republic on his bald head, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Like Fives, he was injured badly but was healing.

Gregor, one of the few who survived relatively unscathed and a republic commando, was a bit shorter than his brothers. He had longer black hair that was neatly styled, and stubble growing in like Jesse. Rumor had it that his hair was much longer once. He was built like a boulder though, with large shoulders and seeming a bit thicker in build than his other brothers. His gentle nature contrasted his look greatly.

Kix was probably the most average looking of all the clones, and their medic. Once in cryo after some mystery mission, got rescued by pirates a good while ago, now helping the injured that survived the Order. He had a short sort of haircut with black hair, and friendly brown eyes like the rest of his brothers. Only, his eyes seemed to be able to comfort anyone and managed to speak in the calmest voices possible.

Echo had a messy sort of story, and his appearance made that possible. His skin was slightly lighter than the deep tan of his brothers, and he had darkened eye sockets, like he was constantly sick (though he was perfectly healthy). Multiple scars could be seen on his head in a particular pattern, and black hair was coming in like the crew cuts of Rex and Fives. He had a handprint on his armor, which made him stand out. He was also practically stuck by Fives’ side at all times, including around the campfire.

The last one was Wolffe, the one clone I knew before the mess Order 66 had caused. He was very different from his brothers. He had a pink scar going over right eye, and in the eye socket was a white cybernetic eye (it made him almost seem like he was blind on that side). He had short black hair like many of his brothers there, but it looked most similar to Kix. He was probably the tallest, even if it was by little over an inch. He had a stubble shadow, like Jesse and Gregor. Like the wolves on Lothal, he was built to fight and it showed. His biceps were certainly the second largest, outranked by Gregor, and thighs able to crush skulls (if he wanted). Without his top half of armor on and relaxing in his blacks, there was the clear outline of abs on his waist. I wasn’t sure I picked that detail up. He nearly killed me when I first arrived with Maul, Eli, and Ahsoka. My eyes remained focused on the fire in front of me, memories flooding my brain.

It was done, the Order initiated and finished in only what seemed like an hour. My clothes were dirtied by dust and almost ratty. Maul was in his usual sith robe attire, minus the usual cloak that hid away his features. We were sitting at a small table in what was like a casual living room. Eli and Ahsoka were whispering to each other nearby, wiping away a few stray tears. This Order had killed many of their friends, and clones alike. Families were shattered and Sidious was to blame, me and Maul knew that for sure. Ahsoka nodded to Eli, and then walked up to the bridge of the ship. Eli fixed her neutral colored Jedi robes and turned to Maul.

“Lucky for us, our ship is arriving at the safety rendezvous soon. I’d be wary of a few clones, they may think you’re against them so. . . don’t act too aggressive.” Maul leaned on the heel of his hand and gave an expression similar to someone raising an eyebrow. “Eli my dear, I’m constantly fueled by anger, driven by spite and revenge for years. Being aggressive is my personality.” I didn’t care to speak or include themselves in conversation. I simply hid in the hood of my Sith robe and remained silent. Eli turned to me, “Hey Mendax, there’s one guy who you’ll know once we arrive. Though I’m not sure he’d be the most happy to see you. Not the biggest fan of Sith still.”

“Don’t humor me. I’m not looking to make friends.”

Eli scoffed, then rolled their eyes. “Alright, fine, sit and brood. But you better not say anything that will make you end up with blaster holes.” I chuckled, then looked Eli in the eye, “If that were to happen, I’d consider it a mercy.” The Jedi turned away and went to join Ahsoka Tano on the bridge. Maul sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re still hurting, I can sense it. . .”

“I just don’t understand. . . It feels cruel to live. To live in such darkness as overpowering as this. All the death he brought, to us, to the Jedi-”

“I know that’s not the real reason you’re upset, Mendax. . . Savage would want you to live on. He loved you, so dearly.” I was silent, then leaned on Maul’s shoulder. Maul slowly placed a gloved hand on my head. He wasn’t one to regularly give comforting touch, but this. . . this was nice.

“Things will change now, and we’ll move past Sidious’ plans.”

When we were introduced, almost all the clones had aimed their guns at us. Wolffe seemed a bit hesitant to aim at me though, instead aiming at Maul. A few good sassy remarks were thrown, but we all agreed no more killing was needed. Wolffe still kept a close eye on me as days went on, however.

Jesse’s laughter tore me from my thoughts and into his conversation. All of the clones seemed happy, or amused. I glared at them and asked, “What’s so funny, boys?”

“Oh, nothing Mendax. We’re comparing body count and the comments made about us.” Body count? Was this a sick count of all the enemies killed? Fives made an impression of what sounded like a moan, then said, “Oh Fives, you know just how to please me!”

“No way! There’s no way you can please a woman with as rough as a hand like yours!” Nope, definitely not an enemy body count.

My face felt a little hot once I’d realized. I guess I should’ve known that soldiers like clones had needs. They weren’t Jedi so sexual acts were more. . . allowed? Wolffe was the only one who wasn’t talking about who fucked the best or how many men or women they spent a night of pleasure with. Feeling a little bothered plus warmed by the fire, I removed the cloak from around my body.

Fives was the first to try and get Wolffe to join in. “Hey, Wolffe! What’s your body count, hmm? I bet it’s a high one, what with the ‘rugged charm’ I’ve heard some women say about you.”

Wolffe grunted, taking a drink from a small cup he held in one of his hands. Fives went on, “Grunting is not usually an acceptable answer to a question, Wolffe.”

“It is now,” Wolffe replied, eyes landing on me as I sat across from him by the firepit. His gaze seemed to soften, and then he went back to staring at the contents in his cup. Fives decided not to push further, but rather turn to me. “And what about you, Mendax? Did the great Sith lord ever get any love?~”

“As much as I admire the Sith and their passions, we never really see many who use passion in a sense that they fight for someone. Most use passion more as ambition, seeking power and their way.”

“I asked if you had a boyfriend once, not your philosophies,” Fives said, rolling his eyes. I scoffed, and glared at him, “No, does that satisfy your curiosity? I had no one. All I had was Maul to oversee my progress and Savage to. . . to make me feel less lonely.”

“Define less lonely. . .”

Jesse shoved Fives, “Shut up. She’s obviously never had a boyfriend.” Wolffe turned his gaze to me again; I couldn’t tell what emotion was behind his eyes. A few of the brothers muttered to each other, then turned to Wolffe. He caught on to the staring and sneered, “What?”

“So are you going to tell her, or. . .?” Wolffe gave a low growl at Kix. He practically barked at him, “Know your place, soldier. And stop your insane claims.” Kix held his arms up in surrender, and smiled, “Just saying, Commander.” Rex rolled his eyes, then lightly shook his head. Clearly, the captain was getting just as annoyed as Wolffe was at his men. I couldn’t really blame him. Darkness was swallowing the forest around us; Rex added more logs to keep the fire burning.

“So, what’s the sleeping situation, boys? Since the generals and Maul are gone?” Gregor had asked, his meek voice coming through with the brief silence. Echo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “I already figured it out for you.” He pointed at one of the ships, the largest one of them all. “That one will hold me, Fives, and Rex,” he said. Echo then pointed to the smaller ship next to it, saying, “That one there will be for you, Jesse, and Kix.” The smallest ship there was a simple cruiser, but good enough for a few people to live on, and it was the one Echo pointed to next. “That ship there is where Wolffe and Mendax will be,” he concluded. Rex started to snicker to himself, and tried to cover it with one of his gloved hands. “Something funny, Captain?” Wolffe asked. Rex replied, “No no, it’s nothing. Just laughing at the arrangements.”

“And why is that?”

“You’ll have a ship alone with Mendax. And I don’t want to ruin the moment for the two virgins.”

Wolffe growled loudly at Rex’s comment, clenching the cup tightly in his hand. His voice lowered dangerously low, “How about you shut it, Captain? I’m sure you men would hate to see their leader suddenly get a black eye and busted lip.” Rex squinted at Wolffe, “You think your strength could save you there? You believe that you can take on the Captain of the 501st in a fist fight?”

“Oh, I know it would. My squadron regularly fights in the dirt, so what makes you think this will end with you winning against me.” The two brothers got up and stood in front of each other, Wolffe glaring slightly down at Rex and teeth bared. Rex seemed relatively calm, but a sneer was forming on his features. “How about you prove it, Commander?” Rex challenged. Wolffe stiffened and clenched his fists tight. The two of them raised their fits, ready to fight then and there. Hearing enough banter, I got up and decided to stop the impending fight.

“SILENCE! If you keep bickering, I’ll give you all a good reason to shut up!” The flames of the fire flared, and burned bright for a few moments. Silence followed my shout, besides the cracking of the firewood.

All the clones looked at me in shock, Jesse’s, Kix’s and Fives’ faces all slowly turned to smiles as they looked at Wolffe. He was staring at me, eyes wide and blinking as if he was processing what had happened. I could only imagine that my eyes changed, a little side effect of being Sith. If I was angry enough, they looked just like Maul’s. Rex sat down next to his men, “Sorry Sir.” I huffed, calming down and rubbing the back of my neck. Wolffe made a rumbly noise in the back of his throat, before stomping off. Gregor called out to him, “Where are you going, Wolffe?!”

“To relax! And hit the refresher!” The rest of the clones made attempts to bring Wolffe back, but it was in vain. He’d already entered the ship, and disappeared from view. I sat back down by the fire, hearing the clones burst into some sort of shanty, and had their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was touching, to see them still act like family even after everything. It was almost like Order 66 didn’t happen. But it did.

The moons of the planet were well in the sky, and it’d been nearly an hour since Wolffe went into the ship he and I would supposedly share. The fire was dying, as was the nightly commotion. There was less energy, less blood flowing through the clones’ veins. Growing restless of being quiet while the clones talked amongst themselves, I got up and put my cloak on. I mumbled, “Heading in for the night. . .” before trudging over to the shared ship. I stretched my limbs and back, beginning my walk towards the beds. There were at least five rooms, each one with a decently sized space and bed. Making my way down the hall, I passed by the way leading to the refresher. I paused, hearing that it was still on. “Wolffe must like long hot showers,” I thought to myself. I was about to walk on, when I heard quiet grunting, then what sounded like mumbling.

“Mendax-” I heard, barely heard over the water running in the refresher. A few curses followed, and I felt a bit of panic. Did he hurt himself? Did he know I was here? I slowly walked through the small locker room, seeing Wolffe’s armor and blacks resting on a bench. Moving past them, I peeked into the refresher room.

It was a line of refreshers in glass stalls on the opposite wall from the entrance. The floor was tile, leading into the locker room. Only one of the refreshers had their door closed, somewhat clouded up with steam. The amount of steam in the room made the air humid, and I was sure that my hair was starting to puff up with it. There was a towel on a hook nearby said refresher. Moving closer, but out of view, my face heated up as I looked at what was in front of me.

Wolffe was still in the refresher, but certainly not injured. His eyes were screwed shut, brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip. He was naked of course, water washing over him and moving down his body. Leaning against one of the tile walls of the refresher, one of his arms rested against the wall he leaned against, and his other was in front of him. He had hair on his chest, leading down to a nice trimmed happy trail leading down to his cock, where his hand was a bit. . . busy. He groaned again, his hand wrapped around his cock and moving faster. Wolffe’s head leaned back against the tile, his mouth slightly open now as a soft moan past his lips. He was close, very close.

“Fuck- Mendax~, I want you so bad~. . . Make me feel so good.” Wolffe’s voice was lower by an octave or two, rumbling and lustful.

I’d be lying if that didn’t cause some sort of feeling between my legs. He was so vulnerable, and definitely not bad to look at. We had had our differences before and were becoming something of friends, but this? It was a little unexpected.

Scrambling to get away, I made the mistake of kicking his helmet. It made a clatter that echoed through the whole of the locker room. Ashamed that I’d be caught. I hid behind the small wall of lockers in the middle of the changing room. The noise of the refresher being on stopped, and there was silence. Very tense silence. I heard the sound of bare feet walking on the tile, moving to where Wolffe’s armor was. They stopped, and the silence returned. He was behind the lockers, where I was hiding. Suddenly the footsteps sounded like they moved away and out to the hallway. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Slowly, I moved around closer to the refresher room and towards the edge of the locker wall. I peeked around, and looked for Wolffe. He wasn’t there, but his armor was still on the bench. That was odd. . . I turned back and collided with something solid and damp.

I pulled away and found myself staring into a pair of eyes, one an amber like brown, and the other a pale cybernetic white. I froze, and felt immensely flustered. Wolffe had a towel wrapped low around his hips, the happy trail disappearing under the soft white cloth. A few droplets were still moving down Wolffe’s body, and he felt very warm, even just by being so close to him. His cheeks were reddened, and a blank expression on his face. I gulped, swallowing down my nervousness and composing myself.

“What are you doing in here?” Wolffe asked, his voice low and rumbly like he was in the refresher. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, “Was wondering why you were taking so long in the refresher.” Wolffe didn’t seem to buy my reasoning. He leaned down, trapping me with his hands on either side of my head.

“Really? And you didn’t hear anything?” I shook my head, not bearing to look Wolffe in the eyes. “Liar,” he growled out. He knew, of course he knew. One of his hands grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him.

“Look at me in the eye.” My eyes moved back to lock on Wolffe’s. His human eye was blown with lust, brown being swallowed by inky, hungry black. I found myself looking at his lips, and the feeling between my legs returned. Wolffe tilted my chin up, “I’ll be honest with you. When you said you’d give us a reason to shut up, my mind went to. .. less than innocent ideas. And I couldn’t sit with them all when you were right there and looking so . . . delicious.” I let out an exhale through my nose, and dared to ask, “Like what? Hmm?”

Wolffe let out a guttural growl, and the hand holding my chin moved down to my neck. He gave a light squeeze as his lips moved to whisper in my ear. “I want you to shut me up and kiss me until I forget my fucking name. . . I want to swallow all of your moans into my mouth, know the taste of your lips. I want to feel your tongue, and maybe stop your snark for once.” My thighs were twitching with his words; he didn’t even stutter. My hands found their way on his back, and I raked my nails down the muscle. “Would you like that? Would you like to have me?” he asked. I quietly replied, “I’ve never wanted anything more than that right now. . . but I don’t know what to do. . .”

“Then I’ll show you. . .” Wolffe’s hands found their way to my thighs and he picked me up with ease. He carried me down into the hallway and opened one of the doors leading to a bedroom. I was carried right to the bed, and the door closed behind him. It was doubtful that anyone would come barging in, so there was not much reason to lock it. He was already trying to take off my robes as he carried me, rushed kisses being pressed to my jawline. Wolffe was desperate, and the desire coursing through him was infectious.

His lips crashed against mine once my back hit the bed, and my legs were wrapped around his hips. They were softer than I anticipated, and much more intoxicating than I believed kisses should be. I felt drunk, limp as Wolffe pushed his tongue into my mouth and hands explored under my now messy robes. He made quick work of the top half of my clothing, almost ripped them in the process. Wolffe’s lips moved down to my neck; my head moved to the side so he had better access. A rumbling noise went through his chest like a building growl and he bit down into the flesh of my neck. He bit hard enough that I whined at the pinching pain. My feeble attempts of squirming were stopped by the weight of Wolffe moving on top of me: one of his thighs between mine, and hands pinning my wrists down. The gesture of biting and leaving dark bruises on my neck was repeated until my neck and collarbones were littered with the marks like a night sky, varying in size and color. Taking his time and kissing back up to my mouth, Wolffe gave me a tender, sweet kiss.

When he pulled away, I felt cold and my lips felt like they were buzzing. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, in honesty. . .” Wolffe muttered, eyes looking over my face and his handiwork. His hands cradled my face lightly, like a feather caressing my skin. The innocence and purity of the gesture was lost when his thumb brushed over my lips and lightly tugged my bottom lip down. I opened my mouth and he pushed his thumb in, groaning as it was coated in my saliva. “Such a pretty little mouth,” he mumbled.

Wolffe pulled his hand away, then moved to pull off my pants. He started breathing heavily once he had a glance at the mess between my legs. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” was what he said. Without another word, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and knelt between my legs. Moving them so they rested on his shoulders, Wolffe began to mark up my thighs just like my neck. The feeling between my legs was starting to become unbearable, and I was aching to be touched. “You know, you could stop teasing and get to the point,” I grumbled. Wolffe responded by a smack on my thigh, looking up at me. The scene in front of me was sinful, and I thought it was all a dream since it seemed too good to be true.

“You want me to get to the point?” I nodded.

“Then I won’t stop til you’re begging,” he replied before moving his head down.

The feeling was heavenly, Wolffe’s tongue working through my folds and up to my clit. My hands found their way into his thick hair, tugging on his short black locks. He groaned at the action, then focused on working my clit. My body was twitching, and my back began to arch off of the bed. “Fuck- Oh Maker- Wolffe~!” were just a few of the words that spilled from my mouth out of pleasure. I tried to push him even closer, digging my heels into his muscular back and my thighs squeezing his head. It was almost embarrassingly fast how close I got in a matter of seconds, and my orgasm came with little warning. The pleasure was white hot, I felt like I was floating and my moans filled the room. Wolffe worked through it, and even a moment after I’d come down from the blissful high. My legs were twitching, and in the pale dim lights that were on in the room, I saw Wolffe look up at me with a smug look and my wetness on his chin. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and hummed, “My assumption was correct, you do taste delicious.” I sighed and flopped back against the bed to catch my breath.

“Maker above, that was nice. . .” Wolffe chuckled at my comment.

“It’ll get better.”

“Hm?” I looked down to see Wolffe taking off his towel and his cock ready for attention. He was big, as far as I could tell. Moving himself closer, Wolffe held onto my legs and I felt him nudge my core. “I’ll go slow, ok?” His voice was quiet and gentle again. I pulled him down into a quick kiss, and gave a soft smile. “I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Wolffe gave a short nod and held onto my waist. He pushed himself in slowly, and his jaw clenched tightly as he did. A struggling groan came from his mouth, and was joined by a weak moan of mine. Once fully in, he was panting and practically laying on top of me. Wolffe was cursing under his breath, resting his forehead against mine. “This feels- mm fuck- way better than I imagined. . . Fuck me, you’re killing me over here,” he managed to rasp out. As if I wasn’t aroused enough, his praise pushed me even further.

I held his face in my hands, watching as he looked at me with a half-lidded, dazed gaze. “You can move now,” I said. He didn’t move at first, and I was about to tell him again until he interrupted me.

With a voice lowering a good few octaves, he asked, “You want me to move, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” My impatience was getting to me.

Wolffe gave a grin, “Then beg.”

I could only assume I made a somewhat amusing shocked expression, because Wolffe chuckled. “You heard me, beg for me to move,” he said. I didn’t want to, at first. After all, I was a Sith and he was just a clone. I could’ve overpowered him and take control easily, yet I didn’t. My desire was getting the best of me, and I could barely move from underneath him. So I begged for Wolffe.

“Please- Please move, I need you.”

“Please who? What do you call me, sweetheart?” This was near torture at this point, but I went along.

“Please Sir. . . Please move~.” He smiled again, and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“There’s my good girl~.”

Wolffe moved slowly, but Maker did it feel great. The slow drag of him against my walls was enough to make me start digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t patient though; soon he was sitting up and setting a brutal pace. I was moaning, loud enough to probably end up being heard from the hallway. Wolffe’s brow was furrowed, but the smug grin on his face told me that he was enjoying having power over me. “Moaning like a bitch for me, and I’m the only one who can do that, right?~ Only I can make you moan and desperately beg~.” I tried to growl at him, to try and show that I didn’t like the degradation. My body betrayed me, and I could only moan and try to move in response instead. He was growling and panting, keeping his pace and his gaze staying on me. “Look at you, covered in my marks and bites. Kriffing beautiful and all mine to look at~. All fucking mine~.” Given that biting seemed to be the way he showed his affection, it was no surprise that it came with possessiveness as well. When one of his hands came down to rub my clit, I was already close again.

“Maker- Wolffe, Sir- I’m so fucking close-”

“You close? You wanna make a mess all over my cock? You wanna beg for me to make you finish?”

All of the pride and dignity I had was long gone by then, and of course I begged. Of course I said, “Yes, please! Please, Sir!” I was glad he was so merciful. He replied, “Now, you can finish.” And I did, shaking and grabbing at the sheets. I heard myself almost yelling, and I’m pretty sure I screamed out Wolffe’s name too. Wolffe’s pace stuttered, and began to get sloppy. Not a few moments later, he finished as well, spilling himself inside of me and throwing his head back in bliss. He made what sounded like a groan, or maybe he was biting back a moan. Either way, we were both very satisfied by the end.

In a dazed and half awake state, we managed to fix ourselves under the sheets and get comfortable. I found myself clinging to Wolffe’s side, resting my head on his chest as his arm was wrapped around me. His thumb traced small circles into my back. A realization came to me that night; I’d fallen for him. Badly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then, but I knew I would when the time was right. With fatigue pulling at my eyelids, I curled up next to Wolffe and slept soundly for the first time in a good while.

Bonus:

The clones were heading to their ships for the night, but they made a decision to just crowd the ship farthest away from Mendax and Wolffe. In a crowded and simple room with bunks, the clones whispered to each other. “I told you it would happen, now pay up!” Fives whisper-yelled to Echo. Echo begrudgingly handed him a few credits, and huffed. Jesse was also passing credits in the dimness. Rex sat up slightly and rubbed his eyes, “Men, what are you doing?” Fives gave a half-hearted laugh, “I’m surprised you slept through it. Wolffe and Mendax just did the deed. I made a bet that they would do it tonight, so now the boys owe me. Well, except you and Gregor.” Fives looked over to Gregor, who was busy hiding his head under his pillow. “I think he’s scarred for life,” Jesse added. Kix interrupted, “Yeah yeah, you won. Now can we sleep?” “They should be done now,” Fives replied. Rex rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.

“Go to bed, boys.”

“. . . Yes Sir.”

There was a brief silence, and a moment of peace.

“. . . Should we tell them we heard?”

“No way, Jesse. They’d kill us.”

“. . . What if we told Maul and Eli when they get back, Fives?”

“They’d kill them, well, Maul would.”

Another silence.

“. . . Who do you think started it?”

“GO TO BED, BOYS!”

“Sorry, Rex. . .”

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x oc #oc x wolffe #the clone wars #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #darth mendax #pls don't judge me #i'm just a writer #the cloons #clone bois #clone troopers #commander wolffe smut

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reneesi · 4 years ago

Text

i never would have thought // CH.07

WRITTEN PORTION

The clock on the sleek mint green wall of the train station read 10:15. Only 2 minutes had passed since (y/n) had last checked it, never the less at 10:18 her eyes where shifting to read the time once more. (Y/n) wrung her hands together, gaze falling to her feet for what felt like the millionth time. She wasn’t nervous, or more like she wasn’t nervous because of Tsukishima, she was just in a hurry! At least that (y/n) told herself as another wave of fluttering washed through her stomach and up her throat. Her breathing had been weirdly staggered all morning, and though she’d never admit it (y/n) had spent a little too long picking out her outfit. Eventually she had settled on a pastel pink tank top and light wash overalls along with low white socks that had cute lace trimming along the edge. It was simple enough, nothing that seemed as though she had necessarily tried but enough of a difference to elicit an exited “You look really cute today!” from her little cousin Natsu as she was leaving the house.

(Y/n) went through her mental checklist, again, attempting to calm her nerves. If she had forgotten anything she’d have to walk all the way back home to grab it and would probably loose too many daylight hours. Speaking of which she was already falling behind schedule given the fact that Tsukishima had yet to arrive. (Y/n) pulled out her cellphone, reviewing her last three text messages again. It had been nearly half an hour since Tsukishima had sent his simple “Im on my way.” And yet he was no where to be seen.

Sighing, (Y/n) sat on the nearest bench, frustration threatening to consume her. She tried sending another text. She checked the clock once more, 10:20. She sighed.

“This fucker…” she mumbled under her breath, staring at the time on her lock screen. They had agreed on 10 o’clock sharp. Well maybe not “sharp” but it had still been 10-ish as in around 10, not 10 fricking 30. (Y/n) calmed herself yet again, wanting to maintain a positive attitude for the long day that was certainly to come. Five more minutes, she thought. Five more minutes and if he didn’t show she’d call Tsukishima until he picked up the fucking phone.

Five excruciatingly long minutes later, (Y/n) was holding her cellphone to her ear, dial tone ringing its mechanical melody. (Y/n) bit her lip.

“Idiot.” A familiar voice scoffed from behind, as a sideways palm came over her head, hitting her hard enough to elicit an ouch of compliant.

“Why would you call me when I’m right behind you?” He asked, voice even and monotonous as always.

(Y/n) turned to look back at Tsukishima, sending him a glare as she stood.

“Because you’re 25 minutes late!” She accused, pointing an enraged finger at his chest.

“I told you somewhere around 10.” He shrugged, moving past her as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah well I thought that meant maybe 10:05 at the latest? What kind of idiot thinks 10:25 is around 10?! Thats around 10:30 more than anything!” (Y/n)’s voice was rising with every word, “And where are you going?!”

Tsukishima stopped and looked back over his shoulder, not an ounce of readable emotion across his face.

“We’re going to miss our train.” He said evenly, before turning back to walk onwards. (Y/n)’s eyes widened and in a scramble she picked up her backpack and stumbled to catch up, boarding the train just after Tsukishima. Once they had settled into seats right by each other he mumbled quietly.

“You wanted to go to the city right? The train leaves at 10:30 so as long as I was here before then everything is okay, right?”

Rosy pink bloomed over (Y/n)’s cheekbones, her head dropping slightly to hide her face. Suddenly she was too close to Tsukishima.

“Y..yeah.” (Y/n) uttered, embarrassment pricking at the tips of her ears as the nerves in her stomach flared.

The two rode in silence for the remainder of the trip, Tsukishima tilting his head to stare away from (y/n) while listening to music though his headphones, and (y/n) sneaking glances every so often at Tsukishima. She argued internally that she was just doing pre-shoot mental plotting. Deciding what poses she’d put him in, what kind of lighting would look good and so on. But it was during these reticent glances that (y/n) noticed Tsukishima’s hair was still damp. A single droplet of water rolled off a strand of shimmering blonde every so often, and with the early light each bead shone like a crystal. Upon further inspection (y/n) concluded he must have taken a shower not long before his departure given the fresh glow of his creamy light skin and the hint of shampoo that hung in the air between them. It was a scent close to laundry detergent and something else she couldn’t quite place, something sharp and intriguing.

(Y/n) felt something strange bubble in her chest, similar to nervousness but different enough to be foreign, and realized she had yet to pull her eyes away. Mentally she thanked the higher powers that Tsukishima had settled down facing away from her and leaned her head back, moving to stare at the ceiling. If not for his position he would have otherwise noticed not only her staring but the hints of pink and red that had failed to leave her face since the beginning of the train ride.

They arrived at the city around 12 PM, (Y/n) complaining loudly at the sheer amount of time “wasted” on the train. She quickly declared their first order of business to be finding a spot with some sort of decent lighting and taking a few preliminary shots to determine the best angles for the shoot. The pair walked around for a while, passing sarcastic jokes and small retorts back and forth. Every time they’d pass a window, on of them would make some sort of judgment call about whatever was being displayed and in the turn the other would jump in to defend said item.

“I just don’t see how you could hate a hat so much! It’s got flowers!” (Y/n) explained, mouth wide and aghast

“It looks tacky.” Tsukishima shrugged, (y/n) shook her head tragically

“Oh Sucky-shima, when will you learn the true beauties of this world.” She sighed drastically, Tsukishima snorted in response

“You’re the one who said that strawberry shortcake looked soggy, which was just factually incorrect.” He threw back, side eyeing (y/n) with a raised brow

“It did not look appetizing.”

“You just have no taste.”

“I don’t dislike strawberry shortcake! There’s just better out there, and I am a person of taste” (Y/n) defended.

“Plus I could probably make a better one.” She finally added, after a long beat of silence. Tsukishima looked like he had something to say but ultimatley didn’t reply, instead he simply rolled his eyes and continued in silence.

Eventually the two came across a fairly empty park and settled into a well lit corner of the greenery. (Y/n)’s camera flickered on and after some button pushes and general adjustments she looked up, half expecting Tsukishima to be in some sort of position. But to nobodies surprise but her own, Tsukishima only stood a couple feet away looking around awkwardly. (Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as she considered going over and positioning him herself, only to realize that would require touching him which might make things even more awkward than they already where. Because even for all the friendly banter they’d grown to take comfort in, they were still barely good friends and a thick layer of discomfort was very much present between the two.

“H-how do you want me to stand?” Tsukishima asked after one two many moments of silence had passed. It was difficult to tell due to the harsh light and hot weather but (Y/n) could have almost sworn Tsukishima was beginning to develop a soft blush atop his cheeks.

“U-um, why don’t we start with some sitting one! Like on that bench!” (Y/n) pointed, giggling forcibly at the end of her sentence. She cringed inwardly. Tsukishima only nodded, walking over and taking a seat on the bench she had selected.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, it was always weird in the beginning. She always felt awkward at first, so this was no different. All she had to do was get into a groove and she’d be in her element in no time. Then everything would stop feeling so suffocatingly weird.

“Okay, um, don’t move just maybe rest your arms on the top behind you and put that leg over the other, wait not like that I mean-“ (Y/n) blushed, resisting the urge to cover up her face with her hands. Tsukishima looked up at her, confused.

“Just, sorry, just sit however makes you comfortable and try to um relax.” (Y/n) finally sputtered out, sighing as she brought the lens up and squinted. This was going to be harder than she thought.

The first couples shots were tense and really REALLY awkwardly positioned. Tsukishima looked like a broken store mannequin that was being held at gunpoint. But once he noticed (y/n) had started to relax, Tsukishima began joking around again, throwing insults and light criticisms at her in a playful way that felt comforting to their dynamic. Once (Y/n) started laughing again, the ice began to melt and Tsukishima was able to produce a much more normal looking pose. After a half hour of shooting like this (Y/n) stopped and plopped down beside Tsukishima, leaning back into the bench. She began to swiftly click through the images, deleting most of them.

“What was the point of that if you’re just gonna delete them?” Tsukishima asked, furrowing his brows in annoyance “Now I’m gonna have to do all that work again.”

“Relax, that wasn’t the actual shoot. I was getting some test shots to see what exactly I wanted and also what you’d be comfortable doing.” (Y/n) explained, pausing on an image of Tsukishima with his head back, a smile barely visible but never the less present. She smiled to herself, moving on to the next picture without deleting it.

“Since clearly you don’t like to smile for the camera we’re gonna do a stylized phtoshoot so your facial expression doesn’t hinder the process.” She continued, emphasizing the last bit in a sarcastic tone.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes,

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with.” He sighed, melting back to lay against the bench in a half seated half slipping off sort of way.

The next couple hours were long, to say the least. (Y/n) barked orders from afar at an increasingly annoyed Tsukishima, as the day grew hotter and brighter forcing the pair to change the spot they had settled into. The stances Tsukishima took only really worked half the time, since he was mostly too tense or couldn’t figure out the desired posing from (y/n)’s words alone. Regardless, (Y/n) refused to go over and physically put him in position in fear of accidentally ruining the easy atmosphere they had finally achieved. And as they trudged on, the heat began to wear them down, gathering sticky sweat across their foreheads which dripped down to their chests which fueled their matching exhaustion.

Eventually Tsukishima came to a halt

“Okay, enough.” He ran a hand across his forehead “We need to take a break.”

(Y/n) considered arguing but as she felt another bead of sweat roll down the back of neck she decided that maybe just this once, she’d have to listen to Tsukishima.

“This shit is no joke, now I understand why people get payed to do it.” Tsukishima huffed, collapsing back onto the bench they had initially sat in, which had now come to be in the shade. (Y/n) tossed him a water bottle from her backpack and sat beside him, popping the cap off and guzzling the cold down her throat. The refreshment of the cool liquid was unparalleled, and as she drank (Y/n) felt streams of water slipping down her chin. She exhaled, wiping at the wetness with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, it usually isn’t this hot though.” She remarked, shooting Tsukishima a look of apology before leaning back to let her head fall off the edge of the bench.

“Had Tsukishima been blushing just now? No, it had to be the heat.” She pondered internally, staring up and enjoying the way the tree’s leaves moved in soft tandem with the wind, streams of light breaking through the shrubbery.

“You said you needed something interesting, right?” Tsukishima asked a few minutes later

“For the photoshoot?” (Y/n) asked, pulling herself back up to sit upright while turning to look over at Tsukishima

“Yeah, I had an idea.” He began

(Y/n) tilted her head expectantly.

“What if we used the water, from the water bottle? You could probably create a cool effect with that right?” He suggested, holding up his half empty water bottle. (Y/n) narrowed her eyes, thinking for a moment

“That… could actually work.” She pipped up, energy returning in a burst “Wait! I think I have an idea.”

(Y/n) scooped up her camera, fiddling with the settings as she looked around for a spot to shoot. In the blur of excitement she took a hold of Tsukishima’s wrist and dragged him into position.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, jeez.” He grumbled clearly annoyed, not attempting to pull his hand away despite this. (Y/n) released his hand and began adjusting his shirt, and it was then that she realized just how touchy she’d suddenly become. She peeked up at him and this time he was definitely blushing. Her own cheeks flared and (Y/n) jumped back, vision hazy with embarrassment.

“S-sorry! I didn’t even-“

“It’s fine.” Tsukishima scoffed, looking away to avoiding her eyes “It’s just part of the job right?” He shrugged, feigning indifference that was clearly contradicted by the red on his face.

(Y/n) bonked herself internally, he was probably so embarrassed and uncomfortable. She stood farther away but positioned him physically none the less, making sure to only touch him if absolutely necessary. As she set up the exact shot she wanted, (Y/n) mumbled little apologies in between, biting her cheek to calm the raging nervousness at the pit of her stomach that only worsened with every touch.

Eventually they were able to get a picture that (y/n) deemed presentable and the pair moved on to the rest of the portfolio, since the major piece had been accomplished. The two first years ended up staying out until the sun began to set, partially because they kept pausing to banter in between each click of the shutter but mostly because (y/n) couldn’t help but to stop and stare through the lens every so often, making some snarky remark to hide the way her breath caught behind the camera.

Orange light swallowed the tile and columns all around, painting the empty train station (Y/n) and Tsukishima had come sit in in a soft gold hue. The sound of wind and far away trains whirred in the distance and the weather had cooled to a comfortable warmth, the kind felt by a fireplace in the dead of winter when snow falls on eyelashes and the air smells like sugar cookies. A gentle warm, like that of a blanket.

The sticky sweet vanilla dripped onto the floor beneath her and (y/n) licked at her ice cream bar, hoping to catch the next drop with her tongue instead.

“Thanks for helping me out today.” (Y/n) finally mumbled, eyes fixated on the barely visable pink tinted clouds that lay in the far away sky. She could feel Tsukishima next to her, radiating subtle warmth which was sort of strange since he was always so cold, not just to her but to everyone. It was hard not to think so much about him, when he was only centimeters away.

(Y/n)’s mind wandered back to her slip up and suddenly she remembered the feel of his wrist in her hand, and another wave of hot brushed over her face. His skin had been… soft. She peeked over at his hand, the free one that lay in the space between them and wasn’t holding up an ice cream bar. She’d never really been one to pay attention to such trivial details, but now that she knew what his skin felt like, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if his hands were just as soft.. how his long slender fingers would feel wrapped around her own.. what his palm would feel like against her cheek-

“Yeah, no problem.” His response was like a snap back to reality, and although Tsukishima hadn’t noticed the way (y/n) had been staring longingly at his hand her blush still deepened as she lowered her gaze back to her feet.

In the end, (y/n) got ice cream on her overalls and a pestering poke to the cheek from Tsukishima.

“Don’t zone out while you’re eating ice cream, idiot.” He’d sneered, causing (y/n) to slap his hand away in protest. The two had argued back and forth before eventually boarding the train and much like that morning, had rode home in silence. When they had arrived back home, there had been only a slight pause on Tsukishima’s part before the two had exchanged goodbyes and parted ways. In that moment before their departures, Tsukishima had looked confused, almost as if he’d been trying to figure out his next play in a long game of chess, but a look like that only had a lifespan of about 5 seconds on a face like Tsukishima’s. (Y/n) sighed in exasperation, throwing her head back to stare at the stars as she walked, she never could read Tsukishima… So what the hell had he been thinking?

CH.07 II you owe me

A/N: Hi, i am SO SORRY! I really was trying to stick to the uploading schedule and then i just got absolutely hit by life. Last weekend was kind of really crazy and i knew i had a big chapter planned so i didn’t wanna sacrifice the chapter in order to release something earlier :/ Then yesterday I was still trying to finish up this chapter and it kind of all snowballed together. To stay on schedule Im gonna double upload wednesday since i still owe you guys another chapter. I hope this one sort of makes up for the lateness, since this is the first REALLY long one in terms of ss and writing! Again, i’m really REALLY SORRY :(( But i hope you guys enjoy!!!

The picture of Tsukishima from the photoshoot with the water bottle is FANART and nOT MINE, it belongs to @unico_ts on twitter!! All credit is her’s!! Go check her out, her fanart is DIVINE <3

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