#so that’s one of the few fanfics I’ve written so far

[blkgirl-writing]

Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!

PS Can I be 🧀 anon?

What happened at the moon lit pond

Gale X Fem!Reader

Baldurs gate 3

It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.

Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩

Word count: 1.9k

(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)

(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)

-

Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.

He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.

Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.

Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.

Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.

Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.

Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.

“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.

“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.

“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”

“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.

“I’d love to see them someday, then.”

“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct

"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.

"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."

"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.

He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.

Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.

"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"

"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."

"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.

"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,

"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."

Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.

"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.

"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"

"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.

Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"

"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.

"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."

All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.

"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.

"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.

"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.

"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."

"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.

"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."

-

Part two, here

(Requests Open)

[maximwtf]

“As per new routine”

Alhaitham x Reader

Words: 870

Google Docs Pages: 1,5

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, no angst no hurt?! That's a new one for me :”D Bedtime sillies, sleepy cuddles. Written by someone awake at 3am, proofread by the same person awake at 2am. Mistake prone, I’d say. (At the very least, I tend to repeat myself when tired :"D)

Opening: Coming back from work rather late, only to find him waiting for you. 

AN// G/n reader. Eeh, this is again gonna be one of those fanfics I thought of writing and then remembered I’ve never written for said character nor do I plan on doing so in the future. But I felt like this was needed, even if this is shorter than what I usually make :”D

“As per new routine”

Getting home late had become a little more usual than in the past. But that was merely due to the amount of work coming in recently, and by no means would this continue on for forever. But what it did entail was a change in your usual routine, which meant it also affected Alhaitham’s. Though, so far you hadn’t even gotten him to mention your late appearances back home. 

So as per routine, you arrived back home late. Tiredly attempting to make your way in quietly, expecting that Alhaitham would have been asleep by now. Kaveh on the other hand was most likely still awake, pulling an all-nighter with his projects. So he wasn’t exactly a worry you had. 

Sneaking carefully further, abandoning your bag by one of the couches. Not bothered to start undoing its contents so late in the night. Having already left your shoes by the door, you start making your way towards the bedroom. Combing your hair out with your hand, an attempt to ease the exhaustion and slight stress of the day. Opening a few buttons from your shirt while at it, ready to hit the hay as soon as possible. Knowing there was going to be yet another long day awaiting tomorrow. So every minute of sleep counted for something. 

Attempting to quietly open the bedroom door was for no use. Seeing as even to your surprise, Alhaitham was awake, calmly reading a book on his side of the bed. It wasn’t the book that surprised you, but the fact that he’d seemingly stayed awake because of you. Alhaitham on the other hand didn’t seem fazed, barely even reacting to your arrival. Only turning a page of the book, “you worked later than usual.” A calm comment breaking the silence right after. His eyes still calmly scanning the pages, not having even looked up. 

Any initial surprise disappeared, finding it almost funny how you’d initially claimed this as odd. But the more you sat on it, the more it seemed in character for him to do. Alhaitham had just seemingly stayed up and waited for you, he just hadn’t bothered to do so the previous times.

Making your way to your side of the bed and sitting down, you took a moment before answering him. “I had to catch up on a few things,” you stated calmly. Not mentioning anything of your previous surprise of his behaviour. Knowing it hadn’t been because he was worried about your absence, he knew you were going to come back. Even if later than usual. 

“You’re running a better schedule than he is,” Alhaitham commented. Eyeing the direction of the hallway, not having to guess he was insinuating at Kaveh. His comment gaining an amused hum from you, in truth being exhausted enough to not have the energy for unnecessary comments. Especially if it had to do with their silly banter, as much as you liked to watch it go down usually.

And you suspected that Alhaitham noticed that, dropping the topic as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Allowing you some time to change into something a little more comfortable to sleep in. Buf after getting that done, your gaze landed on the nightstand. Realising that you’d forgotten to get a glass of water before making your way to the bedroom. Having been in such a hurry to get some sleep. 

Your eyes moved to Alhaitham’s side, noticing the glass he had. Not saying anything, you reached over him for the glass. Getting a slight grunt from him for blocking the view of his book. In the end not even being able to reach the glass itself. 

He closed the book, gently pushing you back and while placing the book back on the nightstand, handing you the glass. While also giving you a look, insinuating that you could have just asked him for it. For which you allowed him a chuckle. 

“You don’t need to make this a habit, you know?” You commented, taking a sip of the water. Noting how it was still rather cold. “Waiting for me, I mean,” you added while handing back the glass. 

You’d somehow gotten used to how low maintenance your relationship with him was. So seeing him pay attention to you coming home later than usual, all of a sudden felt odd. But there was something endearing about it as well. 

“I wasn’t going to. I was only seeing when it was you’d started coming back.” Alhaitham answered. And of course he had known of your recent habit of coming home later than usual. Even when you’d made sure to check that he’d been asleep each time you’d done so. 

“Did you get an answer?” You asked calmly while getting under the covers. “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating tone, copying your movements. 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as the two of you lay still. Before you turned to face him, inching closer. He allowed it, like always. The feeling of him making space for you familiar, as you settled against him. Sleep overtaking your tired form rather quickly, breathing in his familiar scent. Not having the time to notice his arm placing itself loosely on your waist. 

[msmk11]

James and His Damned Owl

James Potter x gn!muggle!reader

Word count: 1.5k

CW: Mentions of food/eating, mentions of alcohol, ornithophobia

Summary: Having a wizard boyfriend is strange to say the least. While it certainly has its perks, it also has its quirks… In particular, you’re not very much a fan of the magic world’s choice in pets.

Author’s Note: So you know how this type of fanfic is called self-insert, well this is the most self-insert fic I’ve ever written. Reader is me, I am a reader. BIRDS ARE SCARY, okay?! Anyways, this fic is the silliest one I’ve written so far and I had so much fun doing it! I hope you enjoy :)

Having a boyfriend who is a wizard is strange in a number of ways. Truthfully, when James first confessed his secret to you a few weeks ago, you laughed right in his face. It wasn’t until he pulled out his wand and literally started doing magic in front of you that you believed him. It’s safe to say you were in shock, and you’re not quite sure that feeling has faded yet. After James gave you a day or two to process the news, his magic usage around you went from 0 to 100. More times than you’d like to count, your mischievous boyfriend has scared the ever-loving shit out of you by randomly appearing in your home or on the street out of thin air. Now too, instead of walking or driving to your house like a normal person, James will randomly tumble out of your fireplace in a burst of green flames. Not only did you nearly die on the spot the first time it happened, but you’ve since bitched to James many times about how the soot he tracks in is ruining your very nice rug.

The moving pictures he has gives you the creeps, you find it laughable that he prefers using a quill and ink to a pen, and your head swarms every time James mentions some spell, potion, or magical creature whose name sounds like complete and utter gibberish.

But, despite your groans and whining, you do really think that James being a wizard is super cool. Like a child seeing a magician, you’re constantly begging your boyfriend to do different things with his magic so you can ooh and aah over them. When you found out James is an ani- animungal? Anamatronic?- the thing where you can turn into an animal, you were even more ecstatic. Admittedly, you may have once or twice begged James to assume his deer form so that you could ride on his back through the woods like some Disney princess probably would.

Magic has its perks too outside of your own personal entertainment. For example, now, instead of having to do dishes when one of the two of you cook dinner, a flick of James’ wand has them cleaning themselves. Other chores are now taken care of similarly, leaving you with a lot more free time to be with your lovely boyfriend.

This evening is one perfect example. After getting off work, you were surprised to find James waiting outside your office, a bouquet of pretty pink flowers in hand. The evening sun rested lovingly on his peaceful face so that his brown skin seemed to actually glow. It was a wonderful surprise and your trip back to his flat was much more pleasant than usual- defined by clasped hands swinging between you and teasing conversation.

The night only seemed to get better when you arrived at James’ place and were met with the delicious smell of garlic and pasta. The table was set nicely, and your two plates were already prepared, kept warm by the wonders of magic.

Things were perfect. Maybe a little too much so.

******

When you and James finish dinner, he stands and grabs your plates. Usually, you would protest- claiming that whoever didn’t cook has to do dishes- but you know magic will take care of it all. James then kisses you quick before taking a trip to the bathroom.

As you’re sitting at the kitchen table still, reveling in your full belly and nursing your glass of wine, your peace is rudely disrupted. With it being pleasantly warm out this evening, James had left the windows open. This seemed like a great idea until now- when a big brown owl comes swooping into the kitchen.

While anyone would surely be startled by the bird’s random appearance, you are especially so because you’re terrified of birds. The bloodcurdling scream you let out is akin to someone who is dying- but in your mind is appropriate for the situation at hand. A string of curses leave your mouth as you jump up and hesitantly back away from the owl perched on one of the kitchen chairs. You grope for the counter behind you, never taking your eye off the owl as you maneuver around the island to hide behind it.

Of course, your scream has resulted in a panicked James and shouts of your name. He comes barreling into the kitchen in only his shirt and boxers, wand at the ready. He whips his head around, looking for you and the supposed threat that caused you to scream. He calls your name again and your head pops up from behind the counter.

“Lovey? What is it?” He asks anxiously.

You whimper a little and, with a shaky hand, point at the big bird across the room. When James sees what you’re pointing at, he visibly relaxes and lowers his wand.

“Oh, him? That’s just Hootie,” he tells you casually, “Probably should’ve mentioned I have a pet owl.”

You stare at him in complete and utter shock then shrilly squeal, “How’d you forget to mention that you have a pet owl?!!”

James shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and places his wand on the counter, walking towards you, “Well, I guess I didn’t really think too much about it. It’s very common in the magic world to have one, so I didn’t consider that it’d be abnormal. It’s just like having a dog in the muggle world.”

You don’t respond with any English, instead sputtering anxiously.

James crouches beside you, “So are you going to come out now? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You shake your head no aggressively and shrink into his side, “No way, Jamie. Birds are terrifying- with their big beaks and beady eyes. And who knows what diseases they carry- no offense.”

Your boyfriend wraps his arm around you and soothingly rubs your side, “Awe, sweetheart, I didn’t know you’re afraid of birds.”

“Oh yes, very. Have been since I was five and a bird pooped on me at the zoo.”

You don’t miss the chuckle and small smirk on James’ face and huff, pulling away.

“It’s not funny Jamie! It’s a real fear!”

He puts his hands up in surrender, “I know, I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It is a real fear. But it’s an irrational one, you know.”

You huff again and roll your eyes, grumbling under your breath. James then stands and stretches out his hands, “Here, why don’t you come meet Hootie and see birds aren’t all so bad.”

You hesitantly take his hand and stand. You slowly walk out from behind the counter and only make it a few steps before the damned bird shifts, ruffling its feathers.

You squeal again and let go of James’ hand, this time hiding behind his broad frame, “I don’t think I can do this Jamie.”

He turns around and looks at you softly before pulling you into a tight hug. You relax a little against his chest, but your eyes never leave the owl over his shoulder, “I believe in you, lovey. Why don’t you let me go first, to show you that Hootie won’t hurt you, and then we can try together, yeah?”

You hesitantly reply with an okay.

James lets go of you and turns around. He walks over to the brown owl easily and coos a little, petting its back softly as it nuzzles into his touch. The owl then juts its head out, seeming to be waiting for something. James, apparently, knows what this means, and reaches behind him to grab some sort of pellet out of the cabinet and feed it to the bird.

“Okay, sweetheart. Now why don’t you come over and give Hootie a pet.”

He walks over and grabs your hand. Your smaller one fits into his nicely and you grip onto it with a death-grip. The two of you slowly make your way over to the owl and stand beside it. You sort of half stand behind James while still holding his hand. Fingers intertwined, James slowly starts moving your joint arms out, “Ready?

You very slightly shake your head and then your palm makes connection with the soft feathers of Hootie. The bird stares at you with its big eyes and, like it did for James, nuzzles into your touch.

Some of the tension in your shoulders eases a little and you decide that maybe birds aren’t so bad.

As you pull away, James squeezes your hand gently, “See? You did it. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

Just as you’re beginning to feel proud of yourself too, the owl shuffles a little and rotates its head 180, so it’s no longer staring at you. The range of motion it has terrifies you and you scream again, running down the hall away from James and his damned owl.

[asimpwithfreetime]

May I please request a Yandere! Platonic Sully Family x Daughter! Reader fic? Where she’s Lo’ak’s younger twin and she’s very much like her dad’s twin Tommy. Maybe she’s the brains and would often be the mature one between her and Lo’ak? And they’re just protective over their baby girl. Was thinking of the fic showing what her life was like, like with all the scenes from the movie that were all family-focused up until they join the Metkayina and they learn their ways, maybe she gets some attention from boys of the Metkayina clan. Maybe she’s the one that gets shot and ALMOST dies and the family is just enraged and go on a killing spree with the RDA? And when she recovers she’ll be doted on?

I love the idea. In my whole life as a fanfic writer (I have another account we’re I’ve been writing since I was 12) I have never written platonic relationships so I don’t know how it is going to go. But I’ll try my best! I hope you like it.

It was going to be too much if I did everything that was asked there, so I just did the daily life of her with her family and what would happen if, once in the Metkayina clan, boys would flirt with her.

My family (Yandere! Platonic Sullys x younger daughter! Reader)

Pairings: ALL OF THEM PLATONIC. Yandere! Jake Sully x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neytiri x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neteyam x baby sis! Reader, yandere! Lo’ak x younger twin! Reader, yandere! Kiri x younger sister! Reader and Tuk x older sister! reader

Content warning: not proofread yet, English isn’t my first language

General warnings: Yandere actions, obsessive behavior, violence

[ 3rd person POV ]

The Sully family was well structured. Everyone had a role. Tuk was the only one that could do what she wanted. Apart from her, everyone’s role was to protect Y/n and be there for her. From Jake to Kiri, even her twin brother Lo’ak.

No one had made up that rule or spoken about it. They all got the idea the moment she opened her eyes for the first time.

She was a blessing from Eywa and her family loved her very much. So much that they had the feeling that they had to protect her until their very last breath.

She hadn’t noticed yet, but she had triggered the “yandere” gene in her family. In a platonic way, all they wanted was for her to love them as equally and to be protected.

Jake needed his goodnight cuddles with his baby or he felt sad and he begged Neytiri to tug Y/n into bed every night. Neytiri loved to teach her how to hunt and to protect herself. She felt proud of her baby, even though she would never let her go on her own.

Neteyam loved to have his little sister around. Cuddles were his favorite. But just having her in his line of vision was enough to keep him calm and collected. He also adored the way Y/n had him as her hero.

Lo’ak sometimes bickered with her, they were twins after all. But he knew how much he needed her, she had the brain and he had the muscle. He loved seeing her laugh when he said something funny.

Kiri enjoyed time alone with her sister as well. Kiri was far more introverted than the rest and she liked a good book an telling her sister curious things about Pandora.

Tuk was just happy that everyone loved Y/n and her. She was the real baby of the house.

Y/n, completely oblivious to all of this she was happy to have such a loving family. She loved each one equally and she enjoyed time with each of them. She didn’t see the arguments the siblings sometimes had over who would spend time with you that day. Usually if things got too serious Neytiri would intervene while Jake pulled you aside so you wouldn’t have to witness it.

Even if they loved each other, all of them longed to be the protector of Y/n. If something ever happened to her they would go completely crazy.

Changing homes wasn’t something easy for anyone, but they pulled their feelings away to take care of Y/n’s. Even though she assured them she was doing fine.

She flew in Jake’s ikran. She had one but the family thought it would be safer. A few hours before taking off they fought over who would hold you. Neytiri was going to go with Tuk so she acted as a mediator. Jake won being the dad.

Once in the Metkayina clan, all of the other Na’vi could see the circle that the family instinctively made around Y/n. Ao’nung and his friends had their eyes on her right away, they made Neteyam and Lo’ak give them death glares.

A few days into the clan, everyone was adapting just fine, on their own rhythm. Neteyam was sly and made Lo’ak go with Tsireya. He did find the young Metkayina cute, but he shouldn’t look anywhere but Y/n. What if she hurt herself? What if Ao’nung tried to harass her for having demon blood?

WHAT IF HE TRIED TO WOO HER?

Lo’ak’s blood boiled at the thought. No one was good enough for his sister.

“Teyam!” Y/n smiled from her ilu, she waved at her brother with a sweet smile and that beautiful nickname he loved. “Look!” She splashed around.

“Very good, Y/n!” He beamed at her. Rotxo stopped helping Neteyam for a moment. “If you want to get an ilu we should get further from them” he said. Neteyam shook his head. He needed to be close, otherwise something could happen to her.

And he would rather die before letting her alone with Ao’nung. “C’mon demon child, try to go into the sea with your ilu” he said with a mischievous smile. He was flirting with her, no doubt.

Neteyam’s expression darkened and soon Lo’ak joined him. “Are you trying to flirt with our baby sister?” Lo’ak said, getting awfully close to Ao’nung. “So what if I am?” The Metkayina taunted.

“This happens” Lo’ak said before punching him. Y/n’s eyes widened. “Lo’ak! Stop!” She said, she felt scared, she had never seen her brothers be violent with anyone.

“Come with me, Y/n” Neteyam ordered. The sweet tone king forgotten. Y/n did as told when he pulled her wrist. “Teyam! Why is he doing that?” She said getting further from the fight. They reached were Kiri was. “Take her to the hut” he informed. Kiri nodded. “Let’s go, you don’t wanna see that, do you?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, of course not!” Y/n replied. When they got to the hut it was empty. The fight had gotten out of hand, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in bad condition, but Ao’nung and his other friends were worse.

Jake came into the hut first, looking awfully angry. “Now you two are going to explain to me WHY THE HECK YOO WERE FIGHTING RIGHT AFTER WE INSTALLED OURSELVES!” He roared to his two sons.

“Ao’nung was hitting on Y/n” Lo’ak informed. When he named her all of them looked at her. “Then good job son!” He said, his mood swinging completely.

“But dad! Fights aren’t good” Y/n tried to reason. Jake’s arms trapped her in a bear hug. “They were protecting you, baby. We all do. If they fight to keep you safe it is perfectly fine” he kissed the top of her head with love.

[marofdawn]

IOL is literally the best levi fanfiction i’ve ever read by far and im always searching for others that are as well written. was wondering, what are your favourites?

Thank you so much! It means so much to hear that, seriously :’). I never thought people would like my fic this much. It has really helped me become more confident with my writing.

I’ll name a few of my fav Levi fics; although, I’m sure most of these have been recommended thousands of times already 😅. They’re just that good. Also, I actually haven’t read too many Levi x reader fanfics, so this list might be small. I’d love to hear suggestions from others too :).

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Content Warning: all of these fics include 18+ content

To Sing a Song Of Steel by CaptainDegenerate - I absolutely love the plot and worldbuilding in this story. I was not expecting the plot twist either. You can tell everything was planned out so meticulously. Also, the ending may or may not have made me ball my eyes out 😃. Very heartbreaking story, but I love the angst 💔. I’m currently reading Of Tea and High Buildings from this author too and I like it so far!

As the Spark Dies by wellitcouldbeworse3 - gosh this one absolutely broke me LMAO, like I was genuinely inconsolable for a whole week… it was so gut wrenching. I’m a sucker for zombie stories though, what can I say? I honestly thought the way this story was planned out was genius. The foreshadowing was done so well and the reader’s nickname was so cute and fitting. I don’t think a fanfic ever made me cry this hard before lmaooo. I just love angst, as you can see. Other fics I love from this author are The Feeling’s Mutual and Spite.

Death’s Door by SongsOfApollo - this is a fanfic I will wait patiently for. I don’t care if I’m old and in my 70s - as soon as I see that AO3 email notification, I’m jumping right in. Seriously though, this was my first Levi fanfic and probably my favorite characterization of him in any story I’ve read. I feel like this author’s Levi is the most accurate one I’ve read and that’s what made me obsessed with it. Also, the reader is a medic and you can just TELL the author has some experience in that field or has done a ton of research on it because it is just so well written.

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Honorable Mentions (aka, fics I haven’t started yet but would like to when I have more time):

- Dust, Diamonds by maokitty

- we all bleed red by littlerequiem

- Percolate by heichoe

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If anyone else has recommendations, please let me know! :)

[twodogs-twocats]

The Maskmaker and the Masked (Sleep Token’s III x fem reader) 18+, NSFW

You are hired by Sleep Token to design new masks for the band. But you quickly realize your relationship with III is more than professional.

Warnings: SMUT - 18+, MINORS DNI. Oral, penetration

I did my best to maintain members being masked while making this somewhat realistic. This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, so please be kind! I hope you enjoy!

Part II

London was cold and rainy. Your head was steadily throbbing after 10 hours on an airplane, your hair frizzing out from the two buns you had carefully arranged just that morning. You felt sticky and tired.

And yet, you couldn’t help the tingle of excitement that coursed through your body. From the back seat of the taxi, you watched the rain splatter the windows as you twirled your thumbs. Excited, yes, but also incredibly nervous.

You had been hired by one of your favorite bands, Sleep Token, to design new masks for the band members. Apparently, the members of the band had found your Instagram and had fallen in love with your work. After several emails and phone calls with their manager and a couple of signed NDAs, you were emailed plane tickets and the booking information for a hotel. And now, in just a matter of hours, you would be meeting the members to take measurements.

It had all happened so quickly, and while you felt confident in your work and thrilled by the opportunity, you were stressed about making a good impression.

A few hours later, feeling a bit more well-rested and certainly much cleaner, you followed the band’s manager through the winding corridors of an old house. It wasn’t quite where you were expecting to meet the members, but you were pleased by the aesthetic as it matched the mysterious vibe of the band itself. You made polite chit-chat with the manager, following them down a dimly lit hallway with red walls and ornate chandeliers.

Soon you heard the low thrum of male voices coming from a room ahead. You fiddled with the large tote bag that held your art supplies. The butterflies in your belly that had been softly fluttering all day long now grew into a frantic swarm.

The band manager stopped just before the door and turned towards you.

“Just remember, the band members will be masked, and you have signed NDAs that prevent you from releasing any sort of information about your time spent here with the band. I just want to reiterate that it is extremely important to the members that their privacy is respected”

You nodded. “Of course, I understand. I’m just honored to be here. I would never want to be disrespectful.” You meant this with all your heart. You appreciated the band’s desire to put their music first. You would never want them to lose that.

The manager offered you a genuine smile, and beckoned you into the room. “Right this way then.”

Taking careful steps and a few swipes at your hair (still frizzy - damn the rain), your eyes were met by the most beautiful sight.

All four members lay sprawled around a small, but gorgeously decorated room. Vessel lay stretched along a red leather couch, his legs so long that his feet (no shoes, just black socks with cat faces on them) dangled off the edge of the armrest. II was seated cross legged on the floor, clad in a thick black hoodie, reading what appeared to be a drummer’s magazine. IV stood by a window, sipping at a beer with his hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy black jeans. It was like staring at a piece of art far more spectacular than anything that lined the walls of this old manor. You weren’t even sure if you were still breathing.

Yet it was III that really caught your eye. He lounged casually in an overstuffed chair at the back corner of the room, long legs pulled up into his chest. His hair hung loosely around his mask. He wore a dark blazer and his trademark checkered socks. In a split second, you felt your body tune into his intense energy. He was incredibly attractive.

You had only a few moments to take them in like this, glorious in their peacefulness, before they realized you were there. Then it was all hugs and handshakes, smiles and questions.

“How was your flight? Not too dreadful, I hope.” Vessel asked you, taking your hands in his, their warmth welcome after the chilly weather. You were caught off guard by his voice at first, as you realized you had never heard any of them speak.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’ve admired your work for so long,” II offered, gazing at you rather intensely from piercing blue eyes.

“Come, sit.” IV said, clearing pillows off of the couch. You could see his eyes crinkled in a smile behind the fabric of his black mask. “We ordered pizza!”

It was at this very moment that your stomach grumbled loudly. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

This was received with gregarious laughter, but it was a quiet chuckle just behind you that made the hairs stand up on your neck. While you were being fretted over by the other members, III had managed to come up behind you.

“My my, we can’t have our girl so tired and hungry,” he spoke gently into your ear, his voice causing a shiver down your spine. Placing his large hand on the small of your back, he guided you firmly toward the couch. As you made to sit, his hands gently pulled the tote you carried from your shoulders. Everywhere III touched he left a burning imprint on your body.

“What else can I get for you, love?” he asked, kneeling before you and resting a hand on your knee. “You have come such a long way for us. I want to make sure you are well taken care of.”

Hot. He was so stupidly hot.

“I’m alright III, thank you.” You replied, trying to stay professional, even as his hand was burning a hole through your jeans. “Some food sounds lovely.”

“Good,” chimed in Vessel. “No work now. Tonight, we would just like to relax and get to know you.”

Soon the pizza arrived, and you spent the rest of your night immersed in delightful conversation. You talked about everything, from favorite foods to childhood pets, even playing a round of Never Have I Ever that left you laughing until your belly ached. Little by little, you felt yourself ease into their presence, becoming more comfortable and more capable of being yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice the way III continued to look at you, his eyes always focused on you, lingering, assessing. You felt a knot in the deep parts of your gut. Was he checking you out? You felt like it was possible, but you didn’t want to read into it. You had a job to do. So instead, you continued to relax into the joyful company until the late hours of the night.

The next day was measuring day. You had everything you needed ready to go in your tote, and your head was swimming with ideas. The fact that your work was going to be worn by such talented musicians still felt unreal. Even more unreal after the incredible night you had just had. You couldn’t believe how sweet they all were, and they seemed just as in love with your art as you were with their music. The entire opportunity was a dream come true.

You arrived at the same manor as the night before, but this time you were led to a small sitting room flooded with natural light. Starting with Vessel, you met with each member one-by-one, having them sit on a stool in front of you while you gathered the data you needed.

While you worked, you chatted with them. They asked you questions about your art, and you asked similar questions back about their music. You listened intently, knowing that understanding their music on a deeper level would help you create better masks. Each interaction left you joyful and smiling. You still could not believe you were here with them, and how readily they welcomed you into their world.

The final member to measure was III. You could not lie to yourself, you had been the most excited to meet with him. You had spent your nighttime hours thinking about him, wondering what it would feel like to have him hold you, touch you, kiss you…

“Good morning Y/N.” IIIs voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Could he hear how loud your heart was beating?

“Good morning III,” you greeted him, plastering what you hoped was a nonchalant smile on your face. He looked ethereal, wearing a long-sleeve black button-down, and black jeans that perfectly accentuated his long legs. Just be professional, you reminded yourself. “Take a seat please, and we can get started.”

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped. Even as he sat, he still towered over you.

You pulled out your measuring tape and a pen and paper. Starting with his forehead, you drew the tape along the various planes of his face. Your fingers tickled with electricity as they studied the contours of his features under the black fabric of his mask.

The whole time, III gazed up at you with blue-grey eyes.

“Does it make it more difficult that we are masked while you’re doing this?” he asked you.

“Actually, it’s a bit easier,” you replied. “I can use the dimensions of your existing mask, rather than having to create complete new ones.”

He hummed with understanding. “Tell me more about your art. Why do you make masks?”

God, just him talking to you was getting you worked up.

“I’ve always been interested in the idea of losing oneself to one’s appearance. Whether it is a costume, makeup, tattoos, I often wonder if we use these things to hide ourselves, or to express ourselves more truly.” Your hands now measured the strong bridge of his nose. “Masks seem like the penultimate of this question. When we hide our faces, are we really hiding, or does the anonymity allow us to more fully be who we are?”

“How beautifully put.” Now you guided the tape along his jawline, feeling its sharpness under the fabric mask. Your fingers lightly traced the exposed skin of his neck, and you felt him stiffen. “A beautiful mind, beautiful art, a beautiful woman,” he said softly.

Your breath caught at his words and you shifted slightly. As you moved, your foot caught on his and you lost your balance, starting to fall backwards. But before you hit the ground, III’s strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you towards his chest. His warmth, the strong muscles of his body, the musky smell of his cologne — all of it came crashing into you.

“Woah there love. I’ve got you.” He murmured into your hair as he continued holding you close. “I don’t need you getting hurt now. I’m not sure I could live with myself if you got hurt on my watch.”

You chuckled softly, but made no motion to pull away. “Thank you III. You just caught me off guard I guess.”

“Come now, I’m sure you’re used to such compliments.”

You felt yourself becoming braver now that you knew what he was trying to tell you. Now that his hands were starting to explore your waist, thumbs running small circles just under your breasts. “Ah, but I’ve never received such compliments from someone so…”

“Devilishly handsome?” he pulled back slightly, smirking down at you.

“So incredibly fucking hot.”

Two seconds. You felt him pause for two seconds while he registered what you said. By the third second, he had pulled the fabric of his mask up to his nose, wrapped his hands in your hair, and brought his lips down to meet yours.

The intensity of his kiss was ferocious. His teeth clattered into yours before he spread your lips with his tongue, sliding it in to meet your own. You kissed him back fiercely, as your hands explored his chest, his back, and finally ventured down to his ass.

That touch seemed to light him up even more, as suddenly he was picking you up to carry you towards the couch. He laid you on your back, spread your legs apart with his knee, and then proceeded to kiss you again as he knelt over you. This time, his kiss was more measured, slow and sensual. Your attention drifted to his knee pressing up against your core. He bit your lip gently. “Y/N, my love, you tell me when to stop, alright?”

“Alright,” you replied, gazing up into those stunning eyes, lids now heavy with lust.

You continued to kiss passionately while his hands explored your body, and then traveled up under your shirt. He took your breast in his large hand, thumb circling your nipple. “You are just perfect, aren’t you?”

You bucked to his touch, as your own hands worked to remove the buttons of his shirt. As he poised above you, now shirtless, his hair beginning to shine with sweat, you felt as though you were looking at a god.

“III?” You said softly, tracing a finger down his chest.

“Yes, my love?”

“Let me worship you.”

He growled at your words. You gently guided him off of you, until he was standing before you. Getting down on your knees, you started to unbutton his pants while his hands circled through your hair.

When he was fully unclothed, his massive length sprung out towards you. You were going to spend every second treating him like the god he was, you thought to yourself, as you took him in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he groaned. “That feels so fucking good.” His fingers in your hair tightened, and you welcome the little bite of sensation. You continued to pleasure him, savoring his taste, enjoying the way his breath sped up at your touch.

After you had taken your time with him, you felt a soft touch at your chin. “My love,” he said, taking your face to look up at him. “It is my turn to worship you.”

III guided you up to stand before him, and began to undress you. He took his time, letting his fingers caress your skin, kissing you along your collarbones, your shoulders, and down your chest. Once you were fully naked, he took a step back to admire you. Your body burned beneath his gaze.

“You, my love, are a work of art.”

And then his hands were everywhere. They wrapped around you, pulling you close. You felt his cock, still wet from your spit, pressing into your belly. His hands grabbed your ass, your waist, and then began drifting towards your center until his long fingers landed softly on your clit.

You let out a soft gasp, realizing how much you had needed him to touch you there. He traced lazy circles around your clit as he kissed your neck. You knees began to tremble at his touch.

Seeming to sense your inability to keep yourself upright, he guided you back to the couch and laid you down, fingers never leaving the wetness between your legs.

“I love how wet I’m making you,” he whispered, smirking. “My girl deserves nothing but absolute pleasure.”

You whimpered at his words as your hips arched towards him, wanting more.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” he breathed into your ear. “Tell me how to pleasure you.”

You looked into his eyes, meeting those cool blue depths. “I want all of you III. I want to feel you in me.”

It was like your words had released the final thread. III kissed you again, claiming your lips in his, as he pushed himself inside you.

It felt like heaven. His body in yours, your lips in his, the heat of your bodies like a fire between you. He rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, hitting you deep in your center every time, filling your eyes with stars.

Eden.

His fingers worked their way into your mouth, flooding you with your own taste. Your eyes met, locked together while III pounded into you, deeper with every stroke.

You came together, your body catapulting into a realm of intense pleasure as his fingers gripped the soft flesh of your hips, his head falling back as he reached his own climax. You relished in the warmth, the sense of fullness within you.

Slowly, your breathing softened. III pulled you close, and you both spent a few quiet moments settled in each other’s presence. The rain had started up again, spattering the windows and softening the daylight.

III’s fingers traced soft circles on your back as he held you. “Y/N, my love, I could do that forever.”

You knew in your heart you felt the same. So you pulled III closer and held on tight.

[fanofurfics]

V-Day 💗

A Bucky Barnes Fic

Pairing: Bucky and FemReader

Content warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff, alcohol. Minimal use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1664

A/N: So I did it. I decided to try my hand at my first Fanfic and decided I’d write and share it today for Valentine’s Day. This was written in the span of about an hour and minimal edits, so any and all mistakes are mine. Please be gentle with me 🫣 I also can’t stress enough this is purely self-indulgent fluff with our boy Bucky ‘cause that’s what I want today.

You had just gotten off of work and it had been a rough day. Being bombarded by the decorations, flowers, cards. Coworkers talking about where they and their date were going tonight inevitably asking what you were doing. And you were doing nothing. No date, no romantic night in, hell, no obligatory Valentine’s Day sex. When someone would “awe” or pout, you assured them it was fine - you were fine. But now without work to keep you busy, you really didn’t feel like doing nothing at home all alone. Luckily there was a bar right around the corner.

By the time you finished your first drink, you had started to rethink your decision. More and more couples filtered in, though you were sure it would be the same just about anywhere tonight. You started to really feel alone. You were doing another visual sweep of the room when you noticed a man walk through the doors. His deep set bright blue eyes stood out first. His strong brow and the scruff on his face kept you looking longer. You had always liked a man in leather. You catch yourself nearly drooling and spin back around towards the bar hoping he didn’t notice you clearly noticing him.

You go to take a drink and remember it’s empty. Just as you reach out to wave down the bartender, the man takes a seat at the bar, leaving just one chair between you, and calls out to the bartender as well just as she’s walking over.

”Sorry. Ladies first” the blue eyed lone man said.

“Thanks.” You smile. Maybe it's just because you’re feeling a little lonely tonight but that small act of chivalry makes you blush.

It isn’t long after you order your drink that another man comes to approach you with his scantily clad date in tow. “Hey, do you think you could scoot over so my girlfriend and I can sit at the bar?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes but smile and nod. “Sure.” You look to both empty seats next to you and before you can make the move yourself, the blue eyed gentleman reaches beside him and pulls out the chair next to him without taking his eye off his whisky in hand. You take it as an invitation, sliding your drink towards him and scooting over.

“Thanks.” You settle in, grabbing your drink to swirl the ice. “They should’ve got here earlier if they wanted their choice of seats.” You grumble just loud enough under your breath that he hears it and snickers before he takes another drink. His reaction is enough for you to decide to make a little small talk with him. You’re sure the bartender would like it if you found someone else to talk to tonight.

“Thanks for the seat. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand to the man next to you and he takes it, giving you a firm but gentle shake.

”Bucky.”

”Bucky.” You smile to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve met anyone with that name before.” You hope you haven’t already pissed him off by saying something stupid.

”Ah. Well now you have.” He gives a polite smile and goes back to watching the tv behind the bar.

After a few minutes had passed, all you could think about was this guy Bucky. It had been a long time since anyone had captured your attention like this. He was tall, had dark hair, and was extremely handsome. He was quiet, and came off broody, but had been polite to you so far. Sure, you had resigned to do nothing tonight, and maybe it was the drinks but now you didn’t feel all that much like being alone. Unless maybe it was with Bucky. You figured what did you have to lose? If you didn’t hit it off you’d be right back where you are now.

You turn in your chair to face him. ”Have you looked around at everyone here tonight? Most of them have been looking at their phones all night.” He slowly turned his gaze to you first to make sure you were talking to him. You looked at him, eyebrow raised and waiting for some kind of answer. The more seconds that passed, you were sure he would say nothing and just go back to his drink. Fair enough.

He looked around him then turned back to you. “I did notice. Must be pretty crappy dates if they can’t even give each other their attention for a few hours.”

He didn’t completely dismiss you! Great! The two of you continue to make small talk and discuss how sad it is that today people are so in tune with everything around them except those immediately near them. You both start listing off other things one could be doing than wasting time and money out with someone when you’re barely going to connect with them.

You’re really enjoying the conversation and as far as you can tell, he is too. You decide to get a little more personal. “So, did your date stand you up?” He’s staring straight ahead as he takes a swig. Maybe you crossed a sensitive line.

”No” is all he says. You can’t help but think you’ve hit a nerve, but you’re enjoying his company so much you have to try and save this.

”Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want to ask out some guy who was feeling vulnerable.”

Bucky choked a bit on his whisky, then looked at you and cocked his head.

You decided to ask before you lost your nerve.

“How would you feel about being Valentines for the evening? Maybe go play some pool or something?”

Bucky looked around the bar but before he could say anything you added. “There’s a place down the street. It's another bar. They serve whisky.” A small smile creeps up Bucky’s lips. He downs his drink and stands to help you out of your seat. “Shall we then?”

The second bar was crowded as well, but luckily you two were able to secure a pool table and had played game after game. In between rounds, you would put music on the jukebox hoping to hear your song between the long list others had played.

Conversation was easy between you too. He obviously wasn’t the most talkative of people but he was funny, sarcastic. And he was also incredibly sweet. The entire time he had gotten you your drinks and even insisted on paying for them. He’d hold your pool stick for you when you went to the bathroom. There was even a moment when he was taking his shot that he noticed some guy coming on to you and not getting the hint that you weren't interested. Bucky walked right up and put himself between you and the inebriated man. “We got a problem?” Bucky asked. The way this man could stare daggers at people was terrifying. And, a little exciting if you were being honest.

The drunken fool decided to push him in the chest and Bucky didn’t even budge. This infuriated the guy who then took a swing at Bucky, who caught his fist in his left hand and with the slightest squeeze, the man was on his knees. “Okay! Okay! Okay! Ow ow ow!” The drunken fool stumbled out of the bar with his tail between his legs after that.

The hours flew and before you knew it, it was last call and you two were the only ones left in the bar. You realized you had had so much fun you forgot about work in the morning. Begrudgingly you decide to call it a night. “Hey Bucky, I’ve had a really great time, but I should probably get going.” You walked over to grab your jacket off of the chair.

”Hold on.” Bucky put up a hand and then dug out a dollar from his pocket as he went to the jukebox. An old Billie Holiday song comes on and as he walks up to you, he extends his right hand. “May I have this dance?”

You can’t hide the grin that beams from your face and he smiles back. The two of you stand there in the middle of the empty bar and begin to sway back and forth in each other's arms. One hand in yours, the other on the small of your back, you feel yourself begin to melt for this man. He pulls you just the slightest bit closer and rests his face against yours. You had been on dates and had flings recently, but nothing with them had ever felt this intimate. This correct. Your heart breaks just a little as the song ends. You wish you could stay in this moment forever. You’re barely able to tear yourself apart from him, but do. Bucky grabs your coat and helps slip it over your shoulders.

“May I walk you home?” Bucky asks as he holds open the exit door.

”Please.” You don’t see it, but he is grinning now too.

The four block walk goes by too quickly and soon you’re on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You’re about to say something but Bucky beats you to it. “Thanks for the great time, doll. This was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve had in a long, long time.”

“Me too” you admit. “And Bucky,… You were the perfect gentleman.”

He scoffs at your remark. Bucky gently grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips giving you a tender kiss. “Goodnight.” Before he can let go, you turn your hand to grab his. “Wait.” You’re nervous, but would beat yourself up if you didn’t take the chance. You hadn’t hit it off like this with someone so quickly. “Would you…would you like to come in?”

Bucky gives the smallest smile and thinks about it. He shakes his head. “Next time, doll.” He kissed your hand once more. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn’t help but do a giddy dance before making your way to your apartment and climbing into your bed to dream, no doubt, about your darling Bucky.

[lovingrosewho]

Framed

Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)

ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3467

Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).

Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)

“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.

It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.

“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.

“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.

“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.

The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.

“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”

“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.

The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.

“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”

“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.

“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.

“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.

The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.

You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.

You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.

You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.

Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.

“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.

“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.

The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.

“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.

With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.

“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.

“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.

“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”

“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.

“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.

“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.

When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.

“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.

Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.

“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.

“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”

He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.

“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.

“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.

“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.

“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.

SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.

“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.

“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.

“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.

“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.

“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”

He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.

“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.

SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.

Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.

Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.

Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.

He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.

He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.

“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.

“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.

“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.

His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.

When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.

“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.

God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?

You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?

You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.

“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.

It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.

You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.

“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”

He looks at you in disbelief.

“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.

Of course, he remembers. Twenties.

That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.

“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”

“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.

He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.

“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.

You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.

“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.

After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.

“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.

“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.

“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.

“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.

“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.

“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.

“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”

“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”

He chuckles.

“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”

You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.

MASTERLIST

[maryonaccross]

Dear fellow team green fans, I’ve finally managed to make a list of fanfictions on AO3 that every team green fan should read;

(Most of these aren’t aggressively team green but focus on team green characters and explore them in interesting and respectful ways )

Fist we have the holy trilogy:

1. Burning Jasmine by our national treasure @scalyfreaks and literally anything else that she writes (BJ is a beautifully written Aegon centric alteration of the dance of the dragons)

2. See, what happened was by @daylander1000 / Daylander on AO3 (the best Aemond centric fanfic I have ever read. If you dislike the strong boys and how Baela and Rhaena were done dirty in the show and love angsty preteens and “dark fluff” as the author herself describes it this is the jam)

3. All of @dulcewrites fanfictions are an absolute must for any team green fans (she handles the characters with such care and the humor is amazing)

Then we have the category that I like to call JUSTICE FOR ALICENT:

1. Springs end by Navree (long one shot that explores Alicent’s feelings at the beginning of her marriage to Viserys, beautifully written, I cried)

2. Give me back my girlhood it was mine first by JustA_Person (beautiful multi-chaptered fic that dives headfirst into Alicent’s depression at the beginning of her marriage and does not shy away from roasting the fuck out of Viserys and is currently heading towards a rekindling of the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra)

3. In your grave by 136108 (short but brilliant one shot on what Alicent should have told Viserys on his death bed)

Then we have Daemon and Viserys haters must read section staring;

1. Sins of the father by SelfProclaimedUnicorn ( ABSOLUTE MUST for any Daemon haters out there, this is the best there is. This fanfiction centers around two children Daemon has with Rhea Royce at the beginning of his marriage and follows them in their childhood and teenage years (the children are the same age as Rhaenyra and Alicent). This is one of the best written team green fanfictions I have ever read and it tells the story in such an intelligent and thought out way with some perfectly seasoned Daemon bashing sprinkled all over it. It also holds up so well considering that its plot is unlike any other team Green fanfiction out there and centers around characters that aren’t really explored enough. Oh and it also addresses the suffering Aemma went through trapped in marriage with Viserys which is always a great touch)

2. Out of the mouth of Babes by UnknownEnigma ( beautiful six chapter fanfiction exploring Aemonds relationships with Viserys that shows Viserys’ neglect and cruelty in all its glory and ends in a very satisfying way)

And then we have a few more brilliant fan fictions that I don’t really know how to sort into a category:

1. Lose your Ego by Fjlh (this series just started and is about Aegon USING HIS BRAIN and fighting for his claim. Very promising so far)

2. The sky is always red above Valyria au by Aifsaath (beautiful series of one shots about Aegon x Baela that explores the trauma of growing up with a father that maritally rapes your mother)

3. Lady Dreamfrye by Ai_Megurine (story about Sansa Stark being reborn as Helaena)

4. I’m never gonna love ( again ) by @crescenthoax (very interesting Aegon x oc fanfic )

5. My hand was the one you reached for by haught_hightower ( explores Alicent’s relationships with Criston and her children )

6. a poison tree by Juliet_Capulet ( very detailed and well written story about the younger brother of Daemon and Viserys returning to the capital with his daughter, after the death of his wife and witnessing Viserys’ brain dead decisions unraveling while forming a bond with his nieces and nephews. Full of Daemon and Viserys Bashing)

I hope you enjoy, it took me a real long while to find some of these gems

[the-swift-escape]

A Fine Team

Part 1 of (N/A)

Summary: The reader and Loki are sent on a mission at an art gallery, their objective is to pose as husband and wife to gain entry into a hydra auction. The reader has been falling for their friend for some time now and doesn’t think that he could ever feel the same.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Author’s Note: I’m thinking of making this a multi-part fanfic, not sure how long but I have a few ideas for the plot. I’ve never written any fan fictions like this before and I’m mostly trying to get back into the groove of writing again.

Word Count: 3,422

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

The art gallery is filled with a warm glow of light. The walls are paneled with a dark wood and the floor is a shining marble that echoes with each step of heeled feet. There’s low classical music playing but no one is dancing. The guests are either too occupied by the exhibition or conversation with their peers. If you didn’t know better you wouldn’t even suspect anything abnormal about this event. Just a bunch of old money socialites viewing art they’re hoping to bid for in the auction later tonight.

Unfortunately for you, this is a mission, not a social event. Loki is not your date, holding you close against him as you view a landscape piece. He’s not whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He’s observing the people around you, and he’s playing a part. He is your mission partner, not a lovesick newlywed. He is your friend, nothing more. When you think about the press of his hand against your lower back and his lips close to your ear, your heart clenches. It feels like the most exhilarating torture for him to be so close yet so far. He has no idea how hard it is to suppress the blush rising to your cheeks and you want to keep it that way so instead you watch an older man in a dark red suit jacket look at his watch.

“There he is, it’s almost time for the auction. Don’t lose sights,” you whisper, pulling your lips into a smile as you turn toward Loki.

“He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried,” Loki says while pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and your breath hitches and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“You guys are disgusting, I can’t believe I have to watch this,” Tony’s voice comes through your ear pieces.

Loki rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Would you rather me hold a knife to her throat, Stark? Would that be more in character?”

“For you? Absolutely,” Tony says pointedly.

You clear your throat.

“If you two are done having your dick measuring contest, the target’s moving,” You whisper harshly.

The man in the red suit goes to the back of the gallery and flashes his watch to a young bouncer. He looks at him with an over polite smile. He’s nervous, this must be the new kid that Hydra set to work this event. Fury was right, they didn’t see the avengers as a threat. To be fair, the intel was fresh and the event was just arranged a few days ago. They just hadn’t checked the museum staff for any spies yet.

Nat looks at you subtly from the bar as she abandons her spot behind the counter and heads toward the back room. Her hair is dyed a dark black and is swept into a braid. She has a completely different face, courtesy of stark industries, but she moves with the same practiced ease of Natasha. She touches the bouncer’s arm and lean towards him. His eyes go wide and he hastily steps aside and follows her past the velvet rope. When they turn the corner you hear a door close through her mic and then you hear a few grunts and you swear you hear a sharp cracking sound.

“You’re all good, auction is about to start,” Nat says her tone calm.

“You’re brillant, Nat,” You shake your head in awe and hold onto Loki’s arm.

His suit is a dark green. The material cool to touch and fitting across his arms. His dark hair is swept back into an elegant loose bun. His face is at ease and you feel your heart stutter as his green eyes sparkle with the chandelier light overhead. You’re wearing a long gown the same color as his suit, the neckline is revealing but not too revealing to warrant any unnecessary glances. The thin straps on your shoulders are beaded with gold and the details on your bodice are dripped in gold, to match his cufflinks. He insisted on your outfits matching perfectly. ‘To sell the illusion’, he said.

“You look lovely, my dear wife,” He says as you pass a small group of lower hydra operatives.

“I’d hope so, I picked it out just for you. Now that we’re married it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to impress you,” You laugh airily as the two of you approach the now clear hallway.

You make a show of batting your eyes at the man beside you as a few of the operatives turn to look at the two of you. Loki wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close, giving you a featherlight kiss on your forehead. When you turn the corner down a darker hall you both stop and press your backs against the wall, waiting to hear footsteps. None follow and you relax against the wall and look over to see Loki looking at you with a wolfish grin.

“You play this part beautifully, darling.”

You roll your eyes at him, trying to hide the start of a smile on your lips.

“You can turn it down a notch, Loki, all these rooms are sound proof according to the blueprints we got from Fury. No one is here to hear your flirting-“

“Except for us, Reindeer Games, you’re making me sick over here,” Tony complains and you can’t help but laugh.

“Careful, Loki, y/n may have to kick your ass if you get too frisky. This is a mission after all, what would Fury say?”

Nat’s smirk is evident in her words. You wish you could stop the hope from rising in your chest when Loki doesn’t seem too interested in defending himself. But then it’s crushed just as fast and you see his smile drop and he raises one eyebrow.

“I’m not flirting, I’m staying in character. There’s a difference. I suppose that’s why I was chosen for this mission over you, Stark. I’m simply more professional.”

“Yeah that’s the reason, definitely not the fact that I’m an extremely famous billionaire, philanthropist and the owner of one of the tallest buildings in New York. Which just so happens to have my name on it. But you’re right, Rock of Ages-“

You hear a door open down the hall.

“Will you two shut up,” you hiss.

You look at your diamond encrusted watch. They must have just got done appraising the piece you’re here for. You see a supply closet out of the corner of your eye and grab Loki’s wrist and pull him silently into it, turning your ear piece on mute. The room is cramped, the space taken up by cleaning products and a rack of boxes and towels. You can’t help but press Loki against the door as you hold your hand over his mouth. Your heart is racing. It sounds like there’s about five men in the hall. Stopped right in front of the closet door. In the small glimpse of light peaking through the door from the hallway you see Loki’s eyes shut tightly, his eyebrows furrowed.

You listen in on their conversation but it’s mostly small talk. All they say that rouses any suspicion is that they’re meeting at a hotel a few months from now. As their steps echo down the hall they say their goodbyes. Hail Hydra.

You let your head fall against Loki’s chest and take your hand from his mouth. He reaches up to his ear as he breathes heavily.

“Darling, if you wanted to get me alone, I could’ve arranged that much earlier.”

His voice is as smooth as silk, if a little breathless. You try to chuckle but you feel like floating. Your skin pricks as you look up and realize how close the two of you are.

“If I wanted you alone, Laufeyson, it would have already happened,” You counter, trying to slip into your usual banter.

It’s harder when it’s like this. When it’s so close to the truth but it just isn’t. You want him, but you know there’s no way he’d have you.

Loki opens his mouth to reply, smirking, but he stops short. You’re close enough to hear the muffled noise from his ear piece and Loki clears his throat when you pull away to turn the volume up. You nod at him and he opens the door to the closet.

“Hello? Am I just talking to myself here?”

“No, Tony, sorry. Had to focus, heading to the auction room now,” You respond.

Loki offers his arm and you take it, avoiding his eyes in hopes of just appearing focused. The two of you reach the auction room and slip in unnoticed. You find the place marker with your aliases and your paddle number and take your seat in the back.

The auctioneer hasn’t gotten to your item yet but you pretend to be interested and whisper to each other when it’s time for Loki to put his paddle up. You bid low enough to lose but high enough to where you drive the price up on some of the smaller items. An hour or so passes with you and Loki waiting to see the painting you came here for. Every time he raised the paddle he’d steal a glance at you, pleased with how frustrated some of the older attendees sounded when they had to place a higher bid.

You couldn’t help but marvel at how far he’s come since the battle of New York. You were one of the only people that was able to connect the fact that Loki’s eyes were the same color as Clint’s when he was being mind controlled. Before Loki ever joined you’d brought it up multiple times but no one ever really took it seriously. After he arrived at the tower, and he opened up more, in his own ways he confirmed that your theory was correct. He hasn’t told anyone what happened that lead him to that point, though. Luckily, he’s adjusted pretty well and if some of the avengers still don’t like them- they have a begrudging respect for him. Loki and Bucky bonded and formed an interesting friendship, with what Loki has told you it seems that they’ve helped each other readjust to freedom in a way. Wanda has also helped Loki open up more, they tend to spend some time every few weeks training with their magic. Clint still keeps his distance but that’s not a scar that’s going to heal quickly, you don’t think.

Loki tears you from your thoughts, tapping the inside of your right wrist. He’s staring straight at the painting you’re here for. It’s a 1940s battlefield landscape. But you’re not here because of the art itself, you’re here for what’s sewn into the canvas. You know that Tony is listening in as the auctioneer announces the piece.

“Showtime, newly weds,” Tony comments.

According to Fury’s intel there’s a note with coordinates to a hidden hydra base that has been thought to be inactive since just after the war. There’s been whispers of a resurgence of the winter soldier program in a top secret location. This might be the key to finding the headquarters.

Loki waits for a few people to bid before placing his first one in. If you can get your hands on this painting it could completely destroy the last of the winter soldier program, if you don’t win then this mission will be a hell of a lot more difficult. He puts his paddle up again and rests his hand on your thigh, his fingers dipping just inside of the dress’ side slit. He keeps his face straight and you assume someone’s looking but you can’t take your eyes off his hand. Your breath is shallow but you try to focus, giving his hand a pat when you think he should bid.

The general protocol is that the highest bidders are given directions to a safe house where they can make the exchange. Hydra transports the item there in heavily guarded vehicles. Which the team will be tracking via the Quinjet. You feel your knives strapped to your thigh, all night you’ve been itching for a fight. Maybe it’s the pent up frustration from your ruse or just the fact that you’ve been surrounded by hydra agents all night. It feels like torture to blend in with them but it’s honestly not even close to being one of the most difficult missions you’ve gone on. It’s tame in comparison to most, little combat and little interaction with the enemy. The hardest part is keeping your heart in check when Loki’s touching you like that. You’re starting to realize how incredibly distracting it can be.

“Sold to number twenty-five!”

The auctioneer announces the winner and you realize it’s not you.

“Shit.”

“What’s up, (y/n)? Did you get it or not?” Tony pries.

“They cut the bidding short. Two men came in and delivered a note to the auctioneer,” Loki explains.

You didn’t even notice. How did that happen?

“It must’ve been rigged, get out of there, we’ll see you at the jet.”

You slip your hand into Loki’s, the cold of his fake wedding band nipping at your skin.

“Let’s go, honey. I have a little surprise for you back at home,” You tease seductively.

His green eyes cut to yours, you swear that for a moment there’s a flash of something there. You just can’t quite put a name to it. Loki’s tongue brushes over his lower lip, bringing your hand up. He leaves a lingering kiss on your matching ring. The look in his eye paired with the graze of his mouth on your skin sends a strike of electricity through your veins. He gets up, leading you to the door.

“Shall we?” He makes a show of letting you exit first after you exchange the customary hail hydras with the organizer and his bodyguards.

When you get into the hall the two of you pick up your pace.

“Now, what?” You hiss at Loki.

He grins mischievously.

“Now, darling, we have some fun.”

You can tell he’s thinking what you’ve been feeling, this has been too easy. Now, at least, it’s getting interesting. You really wish you had a body suit under this dress but maybe if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it to the jet before you have to do any real damage. You get instruction from Tony to take a few turns down the hall to a back exit that leads to an alley closer to the meeting point.

The night air is breezy and goosebumps form on your arms. The stars are bright and the moon is little more than a sliver. Your heels echo softly on the pavement as you walk. Loki is close enough to where your hands brush once in a while as you walk. Each time it happens you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit. There’s something magnetic about Loki, and most might say it’s because he’s a god or because he’s like a predator. Coaxing his prey into a false security, but you don’t see him that way. You see a man, a god, that has been through awful things. Like anyone else, he has struggled. He is hard to crack but when you’re able to see what’s underneath the calculating front he puts up, he’s not that different from the rest of the team.

“You did good in there, Laufeyson, I think you’re getting the hang of this whole avenger thing,” you bump his shoulder with yours, “who knows, maybe you’ve found your glorious purpose.”

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t think that the other avengers share that sentiment.”

Your chest pangs, because it’s true.

Then his face hardens, glancing back the way you came. You hear some low voices cutting through the night and before you can react, Loki is grabbing you by the waist. He’s spinning you around and the world is tilting on its axis. You close your eyes thinking something bad is about to happen.

Your back hits the wall and one of his hands is on your waist, the other supporting your head, guiding it to back gently. When you open your eyes he’s looking at you and he silently shushes you. Loki leans in close to you and his nose is brushing yours and his gaze drops to your lips. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your skin is tingling. He’s so close and his breath smells like whiskey. His cologne is coating the air between you and it smells like the forest and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s so hard to pretend like you’re not in love with him when he’s so close.

“You look truly divine,” He breathes.

“You don’t mean that,” You whisper back, shaking your head.

The footsteps are getting closer and closer and you screw your eyes shut. You have no idea what to do now that you’ve lost contact with the others and you can’t think straight. Loki always leaves your mind cloudy and usually it doesn’t effect your mission but you’ve never been in such a compromising position. He’s intoxicating and it takes all your willpower not to lean into him further. Not to press your lips to his or wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes,” he leans a fraction closer, “I do.”

Then he’s pressing you further into the bricks and his fingers are brushing against your cheekbone. You open your eyes and he looks at you and his pupils are blown wide. Then he kisses you and it’s so soft. He’s kissing you like you’re going to disappear, like you’re made of glass. It’s fragile and you can tell he’s braced for rejection and even though you’re terrified that this is all for the mission somehow you melt into the kiss. A low noise is pulled from him as you slide your hands through his hair, it falls from its slicked back bun and the strands are falling against your cheek. The moment is everything you’ve ever dreamed it would be and still it’s so much better.

The whole world is slipping away and you ears are buzzing and you realize you need to breathe. You pull back, leaning your head back toward the cool night air and then his lips are on your neck and you feel weightless.

“Believe me, (y/n),” he whispers against your skin, his breath cool, “I could never lie to you.”

The sound of your name makes you whimper as his lips move further and further down. The footsteps are long gone, you realize. You should go, both of you should go meet the others at the rendezvous point. But you can’t move, it’s like you’re stuck to the spot and all you can focus on is this, this mischievous god against you and how his hands are chilling your skin and setting it on fire all at once. The way his tie has come slightly loose and how his cheeks are reddened. He’s disheveled and you never thought it would be for you, because of you.

“Loki-“ You choke out.

“(Y/n), come in. Can you hear us? Where are you, agent?” Steve’s voice breaks through the static in your ear piece.

Loki pulls back abruptly, the voice of your captain breaking through the moment. His eyes are wide as he looks at you and your heart sinks. He regrets it. You just lost your best friend. You sober up quickly and slip from Loki’s grasp and maneuver around him, looking down the alleyway.

“I hear you, Cap. We’re not too far from the museum, had to take a detour. On our way now.”

“We got eyes on the truck, good work you two, you make a fine team.”

You look at Loki for a second. You can’t read his expression as he straightens his tie and fixes his hair. He wipes his lips, erasing all the evidence of what happened just like that. As if it never happened, couldn’t happen. Not with you, at least. You sigh.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

In silence you head to the rendezvous point. The tension thick between you. Maybe all he’ll ever be is your partner. Maybe you were naive to think that it could seriously be more. It was just the heat of the moment and it should have never gotten that far. Maybe you could learn to live with that.

[kitty-tea]

Can you write a smut story with cedric where the reader is shy, introvert and not very bold (the complete opposite personality of the reader from your other cedric story) and cedric is a gentlemanly soft dom?

I'm going through a edric obsession rn and I read your other story. It was really good and well written, but I'm nothing like the reader in it, so I couldn't relate to it ����.

New girl

Link to masterlist

Cedric Diggory x Muggle!reader

Summary: Cedric notices a new girl in town.

Hi sorry this is so late I started this story shortly after receiving the request in my inbox but then I kept having to rewrite and re-edit every time because I wasn’t happy with how my story was turning out, but I’m finally done!

I thought it’d be interesting to write a fanfic about Cedric with a Muggle!reader since I’ve never read any before

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral sex, nipple play, pet names, shy!reader, might contain typos, p in v sex, all characters are of age, 18+ only!

After telling his parents his plans for the day, Cedric headed out to the same familiar coffee shop in town he’d gone to since before he could remember. He expected nothing but the same tables, chairs, customers, and workers when he walked into the cafe. What he wasn’t expecting was a new employee, you.

He could see you wiping the counter, too focused on your task to notice him until he said hello. You let out a gasp. Apparently, you were one to get startled easily. You had on a black Henley top paired with matching black leggings, and your hair was in a bun that was as big as the cinnamon rolls in the pastry case with some hair left framing your blushing face.

“H-Hi, how can I help you?” Cedric thought that little tremble in your voice complemented so well with this adorable shyness you were displaying.

“I’ll take a latte and a slice of peach pie. For here.” He said, sounding cool and confident.

After you rang up his order, he took a seat not far from the counter. It was a small cafe, with enough room for only about five tables to be lined up. With there being no other customers inside, he was able to savor the silence that was occasionally broken by the sounds you made with your footsteps as you worked behind the counter.

As you brought out his food and drink, you gave him what looked to be a half smile, but it wasn’t a type of rude or lazy half-smile. It was more of a customer service smile that you weren’t trying to overdo.

“Here you go sir,” you set the plate and cup down, careful not to mess up the heart that was crafted onto the latte. Cedric thought that you did a lovely job on it, and he wanted to let you know.

“Thank you. It’s a lovely heart by the way.” He smiled.

“Oh, I’ve only just started working here a few weeks ago.” You fidgeted with your sleeves and the hem of your little apron around your waist.

“You must be new in town.” He guessed, more like stated.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve lived here my whole life. I don’t meet new people everyday.” He said. “My name’s Cedric, what’s yours?”

As quickly as you looked into his eyes and told him your name, your eyes went back to where they were looking at originally.

“Thanks again,” He tried making eye contact with you to ease you up, but it apparently had the opposite effect as you kept looking down and nodded before retreating to the counter.

Cedric was used to girls at school throwing themselves at him and following him around like a lost puppy. Now it was his turn to be the lost puppy.

Cedric told himself that he wasn’t technically stalking you since he liked to go to that particular cafe since before you started working there. It was his little routine during the summer holidays for him to sometimes walk over there and get breakfast. It also happened that he noticed that you were there almost every weekday for the opening shift.

It caught him by surprise when he was taking a late afternoon walk around town and he saw you coming out of the cafe after it was scheduled to close. You huffed as your purse fell from your shoulder. Before you could bend down to pick it up, Cedric had it in his hand, ready to hand it over to you.

“Thank you.” You said as your eyes met his. “It’s Cedric, right?”

“Yeah, you remembered my name.” He let the corners of his eyes crinkle in its own way of smiling. “You just got done closing?” He asked, pointing to the sign that said “closed” just because he loved to awkwardly point out the obvious in front of a pretty girl.

“I had to cover for someone today. Normally, I work the opening shift.” You were still holding onto that habit of occasionally looking down while in his presence.

“I see.” He nodded. He had to come up with another question to keep you talking. “How do you like it here?”

“It’s nice and quiet. Although I’ve seen some strange families around here.” Strange families? He knew exactly which strange families you were referring to because he was a part of one of them.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with people who are different. They’re what makes this town unique.” You said quickly, as if you were worried you insulted his hometown.

“Yeah, I pretty much grew up with this entire town, I know what you mean.” Cedric said. He then reminded himself that he got so distracted by talking to you that he forgot that you had to get home. “Sorry if I’m holding you up. It was nice talking to you. I’m sure you have to get home.”

“It’s okay. I was actually going to the park.”

“Me too.” No he wasn’t. “Maybe we can go there together?”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to impose.” You looked down at your worn out shoes.

On the short walk to the park, you and Cedric talked and got to know each other. He told you all about his life except for the part about him being a wizard and how he used to attend a magical boarding school while you told him about how you and your parents moved here from a big city after you had finished school.

As the first sign of sundown became visible, you and Cedric said your goodbyes to each other, but before you could leave, he asked you, “Would you like to go out with me sometime this week? Like on a date?” He assumed from your conversation with him that you had no current boyfriend, so the chances of you saying yes were increased. Unless, he was wrong and some other guy had asked you out already which he would feel down about if it were true.

“Are you sure you want to go out with me?” You started fidgeting with your sleeves, blushing.

“Absolutely.” He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, making you look up at him. He wanted to melt as soon as you made eye contact with him, showing the sparkle in your eyes.

“What time do you get off work?” Cedric asked.

“At one.” You said.

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” He cupped your cheek in his large hand and placed a light kiss there.

As he was laying in bed, Cedric looked out at the dark ceiling above him. The last thing he remembered before closing his eyes was that he was thinking about your beautiful smile and how couldn’t wait to see it again.

A couple months had passed in his new relationship and Cedric dreaded having to be subjected to his parents’ questioning about how he was going to tell you he was a wizard, or if he’d already told you which was why he didn’t bother telling them he was seeing someone. He knew when the time was right, he’d tell you everything you needed to know about him. You had given him no reason to feel as if you’d judge him no matter what. He was lucky you weren’t one of those nosey girls to pester him about meeting his family or ask of any secrets he might be hiding.

The day did come when he felt ready to tell his parents that he was seeing a Muggle. Of course they knew he was seeing someone. It’s a parent’s job to know everything about their kids, so it was inevitable that they’d want to meet you.

It was on one of your days off that Cedric invited you to lunch in his home with his parents.

He had warned you his parents were a bit unusual themselves, but you assured him not to worry. What he didn’t tell you was that they were the way they were because they were wizards who weren’t very knowledgeable about Muggles.

As soon as you hopped off your bike in front of Cedric’s house, you noticed the lack of cars in the driveway, something you weren’t used to seeing in front of other homes, but you brushed it off.

You were happy meeting his parents was without a hitch. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory told you what a delight you were to have around as well as saying you seemed like the right girl for Cedric.

After his parents left to go attend to magical business (not that you needed to know what it was) Cedric was alone with you in his bedroom.

“What’s this, Cedric?” You asked as you pointed to a Mooncalf plushie he forgot to hide in his closet. His eyes widened even more than the plushie’s as realization sunk into him.

“It’s… just something I drew as a kid and my parents made it into a toy.” He came up with that excuse.

“It’s so adorable! I love how big its eyes are! Can I hold it please?” You begged. He didn’t see any harm in it. It wasn’t like you stumbled upon the real thing.

Once he nodded in approval, your smile widened as you grabbed the toy off the bookshelf and wrapped your arms around it.

“Aww, I wish this was a real animal, don’t you?” Cedric thought you looked adorable when you were mesmerized like you were at that moment.

Of course they’re real. They’re magical creatures called Mooncalves. He wanted to tell you.

“But you’re real. And way cuter than that thing.” He took the plushie out of your hands as he placed it back into its proper place before stepping forward and encircling his hands around your waist. You blushed at the close proximity of your faces before the both of you felt your lips being pulled to each other’s.

As you continued making out with Cedric, you started to feel a dull ache between your thighs that only got stronger.

It was only when he heard a soft moan come out of your mouth that he pulled away and looked at your flushed face.

“Do you want to take this further?” He asked, searching all over your face for any sign of discomfort. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, you were shy and unsure of how to proceed with what was going on, but you still felt like you could trust Cedric.

After giving him consent by nodding your head, he led you to his bed where your back hit the soft mattress. A tiny whimper escaped you as you felt what you assumed was his erection bumping against your clit through the thin cotton of your shorts, sending a powerful, tingling sensation throughout your body.

“Does that feel good, Sweetheart?” Cedric’s deep voice brought you back from your pleasure-induced mini-trance. “I can give you more.”

“O-Okay.” Your response came out as a choked out whisper. Cedric was a patient person. He took his time admiring how sweet you looked as he slid each piece of clothing off your body until he unhooked your bra, which made you instinctively cover yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, please.” His voice sounded like a gentle plea as he pried your arms off your chest. “You’re beautiful. I want to give them the love they deserve.” He cupped his large hand around one of your breasts, giving it a light squeeze.

You let your eyelids close as he continued massaging both of your breasts, giving them equal attention until you felt something warm and wet around one of your hardened nipples. The sensation of your nipple being sucked on felt too good for you to keep quiet.

The sweet little noises coming out of your pretty mouth did nothing to soothe the painful erection restricted in Cedric’s clothes. He needed more, and he could sense you did too.

With a plop, his mouth left your nipple, and you opened your eyes, a noise between a breathless sigh and a moan leaving you.

“How about I take off my clothes? Would that make you feel better?” Cedric asked as he ran the back of his pointer finger over your heated cheek. You nodded.

How could he say no to your cute face with your lips pouted looking like you were ready to suck on his cock?

You watched him like he was the most exciting thing in the world as he stripped off his T-shirt and jeans, revealing his muscles. He gave you a brief smile before hooking his fingers beneath the band of his underwear and pulling them down.

You couldn’t stop yourself from gasping, your eyes going wider than they’d ever been, making Cedric smirk at the effect he had on you.

He intertwined his fingers through your hair as he used his other hand to guide your face upwards until you were in a kneeling position with his dick in front of your face, less than an inch away from your lips.

“Come on, Sweetheart, let me see those pretty lips suck me off.” You let another soft gasp escape you as he put his thumb on your bottom lip slowly prying your mouth open.

He couldn’t comprehend how he so badly wanted to just lose it right there and shove his dick straight into your warm mouth and feel your throat closing and gagging around him. That wasn’t going to happen now because he reminded himself that he had to be patient with you and let you adjust and get comfortable, something he was also willing to do, reveling in your innocence and shyness.

“That’s it, good girl.” He praised you as you reached out with your tongue to lick the tip before wrapping your lips around it completely. “Just like that. You can go deeper if you’re ready.”

The feeling of having a cock inside your mouth was completely new to you, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You took a few experimental licks before deciding you enjoyed how the round tip felt on your tongue. You were curious and excited to find out how the rest of him would feel, so you wasted no time in running your tongue along the entire length, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“Was that good?” Your voice squeaked out, the loud plop of your lips disconnecting from him bringing him out of his thoughts.

“It was perfect.” Even though he didn’t get to cum, Cedric told himself it was okay. Maybe next time. He had already made up his mind about wanting to do this with you again.

“Why don’t I take a turn and make you feel good this time?” He ran his fingers through your hair before letting them trail along your neck before pushing you back towards the pillow you previously propped up against.

“I can take these off.” His thumb circled along the front of your panties before feeling your clit through the cotton. “I really want to see all of you.”

You were quickly starting to get dizzy from the pleasure of having Cedric rubbing the swollen, aching nub between your legs. The only thing on your mind at that moment was how good it felt to have that soft pressure on that sensitive area.

Cedric couldn’t get enough of staring at the blissed out expression on your face. He knew he was experienced enough with his fingers to be able to make you cum just from that if he wanted to.

Instead, he pulled his fingers away just before tugging your panties down, letting the delicate material glide along your soft thighs before tossing them in the same pile as your other clothes.

Before you could think about closing your legs, Cedric grabbed one of your ankles and maneuvered it so that his torso was between your thighs.

One look was all it took to know your pussy was already wet and eager for him to insert something into it. He could start small with one finger and add more until he stretched you out good enough before you were ready.

“How does this feel?” He asked you as he inserted his pointer finger into your hole.

“I want more… please?” It took him by surprise to hear how needy, but small your voice sounded, but he was more than eager and willing to fulfill your wants, so he added a second finger and curled it upwards.

That was when your eyes widened and your mouth started to twitch around a high-pitched whimper.

“Right there! Please!” You pleaded for him to give you more of that pleasurable sensation with his fingers, but unfortunately he pulled away, making you gasp at the new emptiness.

“Is this all for me?” Cedric asked as he brought his fingers to your face. Your wet and sticky juices coated them, its shine and gloss thick, making his fingers almost look like a sweet treat. It might as well have been just that for Cedric, having popped them into his mouth. You watched in awe as he licked off every drop of your arousal from his fingers without breaking eye contact with you.

“Darling, I think it’s time both of us give each other pleasure.” He smiled at you as he leaned forward, using one arm to prop himself up as he nudged the tip of his hard cock against your folds.

“Don’t you agree?” His deep voice whispered through your ear, making you melt as you lazily nodded along.

Holding onto the soft flesh of your hips, Cedric sheathed himself inside of you.

“Oh bloody hell, you feel so good.” He grunted as he felt your walls squeezing around him. “You’re doing so well.”

With his encouragement, you were prompted to become more responsive as you started to pant and moan louder with each thrust that became quicker. That was when you felt a pressure inside you start to build up.

To make that pressure even more intense, Cedric started rubbing your clit in circles. Your body was so close to convulsing around his dick at this point. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds that you had shut your eyes as the pleasure overtook your entire body, and you saw stars behind your eyelids.

“Oh my God… Cedric!” You gasped. “I just finished…” You ended the sentence with a whisper.

“I’m almost there too, Angel.” He said to you with that same hushed tone as he continued to thrust into you with the same deep but measured pace as before until he gripped the pillow next to your head. A loud grunt left his throat as he bit his lip.

As if he had momentarily lost control of himself and regained it, he slipped out of you before he stroked himself one last time.

You looked down at your breasts and stomach where he had spilled himself and then up above you where he was catching his breath.

He let his head hang low above your shoulder, while your fingers glided over his back once. He returned the action except this time his agile fingers started at your cheek then your neck and shoulder before ending at the curve of your waist. He continued this a handful of times, seeing as how it seemed to soothe you, compelling your eyelids to shut slowly.

When a couple of minutes had passed without a peep from you and Cedric was absolutely sure you were asleep, he dug his wand out from his bedside drawer before casting a spell, cleaning the both of you up before tucking you under the blanket and joining you with his arm around you.

[vanillaavengerlings]

To all Fanfic/fanart/ fandom content writers/creators/artists/anyone creating fandom content

As we enter the week of 22 July, I wanted to write something hopeful for any writers, artists and content creators out there, because let’s face it, things happening around the world is so grim and most of us are trying to survive the days. 

So, here’s something hopeful for any of you who need this.😄

Please reblog this as much as you can as I would love for fandom writers/creators/artists and for fanfic readers to read this. 

Thank you!

A small background about me - I write fanfics, mostly in the Avengers/Stony fandoms. And it’s what I’ve been doing mostly for a few years, despite schooling and transitioning to work.

It’s my escape from reality. When things get rough, I start writing. Writing fanfictions gives me comfort because I know the characters and I love them, so I feel safe in a way and it’s stress relieving for me.

In 2018, I had to attend a compulsory internship so that I could get my diploma and graduate. My course offered a few positions and one of them was writing for television programs at a well known media company in my country. 

I wanted that job so bad because I wasn’t interested in the others, they were too ‘corporate-like’. So I applied for it. They asked for my portfolio of written works.

And then it hit me. My God, all I’ve written so far were fanfics with male pairing. I come from a conservative country so LGBTQ stories are super rare and can be frowned upon. But that’s all I had and it was all I could submit.

Guess what?

I did just that. I took excerpts from my WIP/published fanfics, and added them into my portfolio. I even went the extra mile and typed a short excerpt into a screenwriting format, like a legit script for a show! (TV writing internships pay special attention to your script writing abilities)

I submitted them.

I was called for an interview a few days later. I was advised to bring hardcopy versions of my written work, so I printed out the stuff from my portfolio. I went for the interview and saw my coursemates, some of whom I consider really capable and smart. 

I thought, there’s no way my fanfics and I stand a chance in getting this job.

I went up first and had the usual interview questions. The last bit came, where the interviewer, a prominent executive producer in my country, asked for my written samples. I handed her the file and gave her a brief explanation of my work.

I told her I published my written works online and have a group of audience who read and review them. I also added that I use their feedback to improve my writing as a whole. She was nodding her head and reading the script of my fanfic I had written. I was hiding my smile. Everything she was flipping through were Stony and Avengers fanfic excerpts!

At last, she handed my file back to me and smiled. It signaled the end of my interview. I went back to my campus and sighed, already looking at the other positions to apply to.

Two hours later, I received the email that I had gotten the job, as a television writer intern at a prominent media company. And all I used were my fanfictions I had written!

I couldn’t believe it worked. My fellow coursemates write really good content and I went into the interview with fanfictions and got the job!

To this day, when I think about this, I laugh. Not in a self-deprecating way, but in a way of disbelief, seeing what I can pull off.

To everyone out there who are thinking so lowly of yourself because all you have done are work related to fandoms, I’ve been there, and I’m here to say that you are so talented coming up with unique content from something that is so fixed and rigid. So don’t be hard on yourself. 

You’re not wasting your time just because you post stuff on AO3 or Tumblr. Every written work/art/creative content is a great way for you to practice and work on your skills. I mean, we all have to start somewhere, right?

Seriously, it takes a lot of talent, creativity and hard work to write fanfictions, draw fanarts and create any fandom related content. And it takes so much of courage to put your work out there in the open for anyone to read.

And that’s the thing! It’s a service that you are doing, letting people read your words, your story, letting people see your art and your creativity. 

Don’t be ashamed of your fandom works. And don’t be ashamed of reading fanfictions. They’re a part of you. So don’t think of yourself lowly. No way. You’re all heroes, in your own ways. 

Some of the best written stories I’ve ever read came from AO3, some of the best art works and funniest content I’ve ever seen are fandom related.

You’ve got this, you talented talented human being. Go out there and shine bright! 🌟

[spiralizera]

Mistranslations

Pair: Namjoon/reader (English/anglophone)

Summary: You get into a fight with Yoongi over speaking English and not Korean.

Tags: Hurt/comfort; angst; protective Namjoon; angry Namjoon; soft so soft Namjoon; besties Namjoon and Yoongi

Warnings: xenophobia, mentions of racism [writer is white take that as you will], severe panic attacks, depression, non verbal coping mechanisms, use of the word ‘waegukin’ [I know it’s not a racial slur in the same way we understand racial slurs in the west, I mention that in the fic], chats about eurocentrism and colonialism [lol]

Notes: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, v spontaneous, possibly due to sun exposure, it’s like 29C rn, inspired by the gorgeous work of @dreamescapeswriting

You were waiting in the dressing room for the boys to finish their set. You’d been working in Gwanju and Namjoon had insisted that you come see him in Busan. The crowd had been insane and quite quickly you’d retreated backstage, overwhelmed. The English translator, now almost permanently on staff for unexpected interviews or even just preliminary prep on translation before content was churned out for online consumption, came and sat with you. She’d been working on her cultural knowledge of English recently and you quite quickly descended into a deep conversation about the politics of Eurovision. You were happy to help, she’d been a saint over these last few months, helping you with Korean.

Just as you were explaining the running joke that is the U.K. and the ‘nil point’ streak, Yoongi and Jungkook burst into the room on a performance high. Jungkook was giggly and jokingly collapsed into your back while Yoongi grabbed some water. They were mid conversation, their breath labouring, rushed and hard to hear. JK turned around and asked you something and since you were just talking to Seo in English, your brain couldn’t quite register what Jungkook was asking. He asked again, gesturing his hands towards the table, too tired to form full sentences. You turned to where he gestured and before you could fully kick your brain back into Korean and ask him to repeat it again, Yoongi scoffed something under his breath.

You paused, unsure if you’d misheard.

‘Sorry?’ You turned to Yoongi, asking in Korean as your brain played catch up with the chaos slowly pouring in from the stage.

Yoongi ignored you and started speaking to Jungkook. Jungkook laughed and pushed lightly off you, grabbing a bottle of water. You were close with the guys, it was easy. They had such a close and intense bond, it was impossible to be intimate with one without becoming close with the others. The only one who’d always remained at a distance from you was Yoongi. He sometimes pretended to exchange pleasantries, but largely kept himself a distance from you. He never spoke in English to you, he never tried to include you. You knew he spoke far better English than most of the boys, except for Namjoon of course. But he only spoke Korean around you. ‘Around’ was the correct word, never at you or with you, just around you, like you were an unfortunately placed pillar obstructing conversation. You largely ignored him, ignored the sick feeling in your stomach whenever he was in the room. It was natural to not click with everybody. Healthy in fact. These were Namjoon’s friends, not yours after all.

You heard the word again. You’d definitely not misheard this time.

‘Hey,’ you stood up, walking over to Yoongi. The boys turned around, jungkook slightly startled by the raise in your voice. ‘What did you call me?’

Yoongi looked at you deadpan. You were the same height and his eyes bore unflinchingly into yours. ‘I said,’ his English was slow like he was speaking to a child, ‘fucking waegukin.’

You stepped back, slightly stunned. It wasn’t a bad word, you knew that, it was a fact, you knew that. People referred to you as one all the time, it was fine, it was-

‘Everywhere we go it’s ‘speak English this’, ‘speak English that’, why don’t you fucking speak Korean? Why do we have to always accommodate you monolingual fucks? The level of entitlement, you come here expecting everything to be handed to you on a fucking plate. We just gave everything out there, Namjoon killed it and you’re in here demanding everyone speak to you in English, wasting the time of our translator, and not even come out and watch us. Namjoon gives you everything, what do you give him? That’s all westerners do, they take and take and demand we meet their standards, demand we make them comfortable. Would you even like Namjoon if he wasn’t an idol? Would you even like him if he couldn’t speak English? He gives so much of himself, so much energy translating and managing interviews and making sure we come across the right way to you westerners. Now he has to come home to you and your English face and your English language. Give him a fucking break. What can you give him, fucking waegukin?’

Yoongi had been getting closer and closer to you, Jungkook had tried grab his shoulder, to interrupt him but he’d shrugged him off. He’d seen red and couldn’t stop. You were just as stunned. You’d almost zoned out after a minute, watching the scene from another corner, alongside the stunned crew. In theory you knew that Yoongi was tired, that this was about something else, something bigger than you. He was right you hadn’t seen the majority of the concert, maybe something had happened onstage. There’d be a simple explanation, you knew that. You knew that. But your heart was in your throat, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t breathe. Every insecurity, every worry that had been simmering underneath your skin since you started dating Joon, that Joon had always dismissed and told you not to worry about, was now echoing about the room in one awful silence.

It felt like an eternity had passed.

‘Y/N-‘ Jungkook broke the spell, but you were faster. You didn’t even grab your things, you just needed to leave as quickly as humanly possible. You ran out the room, heading towards the cars, asking the nearest taxi to please drive, before you could see the way Yoongi’s eyes slowly cleared, the realisation that he’d truly fucked up dawning on his face.

——————————————-———————-

14 missed calls. 8 from Joon. 4 from Jungkook. 2 from Seo. You didn’t dare look at the messages that had been solidly lighting up your phone for the past hour. You just needed to get out. You needed to get out right now. You were shoving clothes into your suitcase. You’d catch a train to Gwanju, or maybe a plane would be easier, would there be any planes this late at night? Maybe the train then, or a hire car, but you weren’t really in any state to drive- Maybe you should just cut out the middle man and go straight to Seoul. You had friends there, friends from home who’d grown up split between Korea and Europe. But you didn’t want to worry then. You didn’t want them to know that this kind of relationship couldn’t work. That you were repeating the same mistakes that their parents had made, that maybe the cultural gap was too big. You didn’t want to cause them pain, you were causing everyone so much-

There was a knock at the door. You froze. Shit. You briefly debated scaling the fire escape, but thankfully dropped that idea. Maybe if you just stayed quiet, whoever it was, would go away. Maybe they’d leave you alone. Maybe you’d still be able to escape. You couldn’t be here. You couldn’t do this. You needed to leave right now. Right fucking now.

‘Y/N please,’ it was Namjoon. ‘Please open the door. It’s just me. Please I need to know that you’re ok.’

You softened slightly, your body couldn’t help but respond to his voice. But then your brain kicked into gear again. English, he was speaking in English. He was accommodating you, yet again, he had just finished a concert and he was probably exhausted and he had to deal with you, Yoongi’s words bouncing around your head. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breath. You couldn’t-

You heard some soft swearing behind the door. ‘Ok I’m coming in Y/N,’ Namjoon slowly entered the room. He had an idea about what had happened, he’d seen you react like this before, he was just glad you were still at the hotel. He walked slowly towards you, arms outstretched like he was approaching a stray. He’d made sure to get rid of every single bit of his anger before coming to find you. He’d ripped into Yoongi and Yoongi had taken it, stood there limply and said nothing. Still high from the stage, he would’ve punched him if it hadn’t been for Jin and Jungkook holding him back. He’d forced himself to calm down before going to find you, he knew he it couldn’t come near you in this state.

He’d phoned the hotel to check you were there before sending Hobi ahead with explicit instructions to not to knock but just make sure that your hotel room light was still on and let him know if you left.

‘It’s ok baby,’ he almost whispered. ‘It’s ok, it’s ok,’ he softly repeated until he was close enough to envelop you in a hug. You initially resisted before allowing yourself to break down and cry. Namjoon held the back of your head to the crook of his neck, kissing the top of your head as he continued to repeat the mantra. Your legs started to go and he swiftly carried you to the bed. He didn’t let you go. He wouldn’t let you go. He controlled his own breathing, holding down the anger that bubbled just below his skin. He took your shaking hand and kissed each finger tip with such care and love before placing it flat against his chest You focussed on his heart, it’s even beats, strong and steady. You matched it’s rhythm with your fingers and eventually your breath followed.

‘It’s ok. You’re ok. I love you. I love you so much,’ Namjoon whispered sweet nothings into your hair and you focussed more on the feeling of his lips than his actual words. Eventually your eyes became heavy and you thankfully slipped away from this awful evening.

Morning came and Namjoon was still holding you. He was reluctant to let you go. Your head was heavy and you felt like were moving underwater. This was often the way after a bad night. You’d finally learnt to recognise the signs, learnt to treat them as something external, symptoms, side affects, not personal failings, character flaws.

Namjoon had learnt too. Just as you had so quickly become attuned to his bad days, the days he couldn’t leave the bed, the days he communicated solely through text messages and grunts, the days he was tired of fronting, tired of masking. It’d been hard, so hard. But you’d eventually let him in too. Let him take care of you. Stopped being so vigilant to everyone else’s needs and let him catch you.

You both stayed in bed for a long time, waking up slowly before letting yourselves fall back asleep again. Joon ordered room service and made you tea, forcing you to drink something and nibble on toast. Wordlessly and easily you moved in time with the other, understanding each others signals. Only the occasional ‘come on’, ‘jagi’, or ‘baby,’ from Namjoon as he coached you into returning back to your body. He’d put the phones somewhere you both couldn’t see them, and while you read, he went and drew you a bath.

The sound of the crowds, thickly ringing the hotel, continued to echo into the afternoon. Ideally Namjoon had wanted to take you somewhere outside, go for a walk to a park or a convenience store, something easy and familiar. But that simply wasn’t possible.

‘Jagiya,’ he called softly to you, still lying in bed, reading your book and tracing the late afternoon sun spots. ‘I’m taking you home tomorrow, is that ok?’

You nodded softly, allowing Namjoon to drag you across the bed into his arms. You felt numb. You felt tired.

——————————————————————

‘Absolutely not.’

Namjoon was trying to find his current reading book before heading to the studio. He’d reluctantly returned to work a couple days after you’d both come back to Seoul. You’d insisted, insisted that you were ok now. Maybe he’d jumped the gun.

‘You are not going anywhere near him, especially not alone.’ He came and stood in the doorway of your study, like he could physically stop you from leaving.

‘Jin is leaving in a couple of days, I’m not going to be the cause of any tension or awkwardness that’ll ruin his send off. You guys need each other more than ever now.’

You get up, matching his stance.

‘You haven’t done anything,’ he punctuated the ‘you’. ‘If anyone’s ruined anything it’s him. He crossed the fucking line.’

You sigh. Your fingers graze his arms, you can feel the anger vibrating just under there. He pretends it’s not there, he pretends you don’t know. He thinks he’s protecting you. You don’t say anything, just gently need the tension from his arms.

His hands eventually fall to your hips before travelling up your back and neck. He leans down and kisses you, your face between his hands like an offering. Its not horny. Its gentle. It’s protective. It’s like you’re the most precious thing in the word. ‘I won’t let him hurt you again.’ He whispers, refusing to even let your eyes slip from his grasp.

‘I know’, you whisper back. ‘I know Joonie. you’re good jooni, so good.’

——————————————————————

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to reach out to you since the night of the concert. Not that he would usually text you, it’d be more disturbing if he had.

As soon as Joon had left for the studio, you texted Jungkook to let him know phase 1 was complete. Jungkook’s job was to keep Joon distracted just long enough to execute phase 2. Before you could think about it too much, you picked up your phone and dialled.

‘Meet me at the convenience store in Dosan. I want to talk.’

——————————————————————

Mid afternoon the streets were almost deserted in Gangnam. Everyone was working or at least trying to avoid the mid afternoon heat. You sat at a plastic picnic table, your back against the shop’s glass windows and your feet up on the bench. You sipped on your coffee - hot drinks in hot weather, you’d learnt that working service - and watched the fruit cellar obnoxiously ring his bell, hopping from one dappled island of shade to another. If the coward didn’t show then at least you’d had a pleasant afternoon.

Two bottles of beer were carefully placed on the table, the clink of glass bringing you back to reality. ‘I thought you might like something stronger than coffee.’

Yoongi’s face was almost completely covered - the classic idol combo of bucket hat, sunnies and face mask - but he still radiated sheepishness.

You say nothing, and watch him eventually open the bottle and pour you a glass. It was unnecessarily formal for a convenience store. But you thought, let him play host. Let him show the foreigner good korean table etiquette.

You take a swig and return to watching the fruit seller. He has some customers now. It’s quite busy. They’ll need to form a line.

You’re both silent for a long time. Neither one of you are great conversationalists and Yoongi seems to be on the brink of an aneurysm. Eventually you relent.

‘Listen,’ your Korean is tense but you know it’s correct, you’ve made sure it’s correct, you refuse to give him an inch. ‘You were right the other night. It’s fucked up how the west and Europe looks at Asia, especially relatively new democracies like Korea. We hold them to,’ you gesture with your hand as you look for the word, ‘unbelievably high standards and then judge them for it. we judge you from democracies that are far far from perfect, democracies that are always on the edge of fascism, democracies that are built off the blood and backs of slavery, colonialism and ecological devastation. We forced you all to speak English and now English is the lingua Munda. You’re right to be angry, you’re right to be upset, especially considering the awful things this country has had to deal with from the likes of the USA. It must be incredibly frustrating and patronising to have to learn English, conduct interviews in English and be constantly asked for everything to be in English, to be considered worthy of international recognition. If anything you guys are proof that you don’t need English at all to dominate the global stage.’

Yoongi went to open his mouth then, but you waved him away.

‘But that doesn’t mean that you get to talk to me like that. Not you. Not anyone. Everything that you said, I’ve thought about myself ten times over and ten times worse. Namjoon and I have had so many conversations about this; before I came to Korea I had some understanding of the history of violence and colonialism this country had been subjected to for centuries, from the Japanese, from the US. But I still came to it from s western, trans-Atlantic understanding of colonialism and I’ve been working and researching to understand these different histories and thoughts and ways of speaking so I can fully understand. It’s a huge part of my job Yoongi, working in Gwanju.’

You could feel yourself getting off track. You took another swig of beer and tried to rain it back. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you, he was staring out into the street. You weren’t sure if your Korean was making any sense.

‘White guilt, western guilt, it’s boring and fruitless. It puts the onus on those who’ve been subjected to these systems of systemic violence. I know this. But in that moment Yoongi what you said was cruel and hurtful and i panicked and I needed to get the fuck out of there. You were right I missed half the show, I don’t know what happened out there, but whatever it was, whatever all of,’ again you gesture wildly, ‘whatever all of this fucked up fuckery we live in is, you don’t get to use me as a…a punching bag.’

Your Korean had become shaky at the end and you’d stumbled into English just so you could finish your point. You weren’t used to defending yourself, it still went against your instincts. Your heart was racing.

For a couple minutes, the sound of your breath was all you could hear, blood rushing to your ear drums.

‘It’s not true.’

‘What?’ You look up, Yoongi was now looking directly at you.

‘You said that what I’d said had been true. It wasn’t true. None of it was true. It was xenophobic and racist. You’re right, we’re subjected to these fucked up systems but that doesn’t mean that we can weaponise them and manipulate them to hurt each other, that’s not how they will end.’

You look at him, unconsciously mouthing some of his words as you try to process them in your head.

‘I’m sorry Y/N. I’m really sorry that I hurt you. I knew about your panic attacks. I knew what I was doing. It was completely and utterly fucked up, I’m so so sorry. You’re so great with Joon and I-

‘You don’t think that.’

He faltered. ‘What?’

‘You don’t think that I’m good with Namjoon,’ you repeated. ‘Ever since we started dating, you’ve avoided me, you never talk to me.’

‘I-‘

‘In fact you often leave the room if im in it. I think the other night was perhaps the longest conversation we’ve ever had, if you can call it that.’

Yoongi seemed to close then. He drew back. You sighed, you were tired of this. ‘Namjoon acts like it doesn’t matter but you’re his best friend Yoongi. I know he’s used to telling you everything. He’s so angry right now. I don’t want to come between you two, I don’t want him to lose you. He needs you.’

Yoongi looked up suddenly at that. His eyes were bright. ‘I don’t want to lose him either.’ He whispered, quickly ducking his head and raking his hands through his hair. You were worried he might try pull it out.

‘I’m sorry i treated you the way that I did. It was cruel and unnecessary, to you and Namjoon.’

You folded your arms and cocked your head.

‘I was weary. And it wasn’t because you weren’t Korean, I’ve close friends who’ve married people not from Korea, who’ve moved abroad-‘

‘Careful,’ you interjected, smiling. ‘You’re starting to sound like those people who insist that they aren’t racist because they have black friends.’

‘-but I was worried about how it’d affect the music,’ he persisted. ‘I was worried about how Namjoon’s priorities would not only shift towards love but also across continents and languages. I was worried he’d be stretched too thin and that the music would suffer.’ He looked at you then, before voicing your deepest fears. ‘That he would suffer.’

‘I’ve known him since he was young and he wasn’t like the rest of us. He’d never allowed himself to get distracted by girls or love. He’d been 100% on the music and the group, nothing else. Part of me worried about the music, but a big part of me worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.’ He grabbed your hand then, he could see the guilt and panic start to fester behind your eyes. ‘Because he was falling hard for you Y/N, so hard, harder I think than any of us have fallen before.’

You nodded, unable to speak.

‘I love him Yoongi,’ you breathed, not daring to look away.

Yoongi let go of your hand, he leaned back and took a swig of beer. He fiddled with the label, tearing it into tiny pieces.

‘The truth is Y/N that I’ve never seen him so happy.’ Yoongi rolled the shreds of bottle label into tiny cigarettes and laid them in a row on the table. ‘His songwriting is on s different level and, and he’s calmer,’ your breath catches in your throat at that one. ‘He’s calmer and you can see behind his eyes, you know, he’s not…always putting up a front.’

Yoongi stopped talking then. But you didn’t dare start. You didn’t want to break the spell.

‘I said some fucked up shit the other night. One thing I said was that he must be so tired coming home to you and having to speak English, but it’s not true. I’ve never seen him so healthy, so full of energy. I don’t know your relationship, and that’s my fault, but I don’t think you drain him at all. Not in the slightest. I think you do the opposite, Y/N. Im sorry.’

Yoongi leaned back then, pretended to watch the people walking past. His shoulders slumped forward.

‘I want to be friends Yoongi.’

His head whipped around. He must have misheard you. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I want to be friends Yoongi.’ You repeat again, smiling at him.

He blinks at you. ‘What is this? Primary school? You want to be my friend? Is it that easy?’

‘It can be. If you want it to be.’

Yoongi leaned back before suddenly smiling and getting up from the table with outstretched arms. ‘Come here, noona.’

You laugh and meet him in the hug.

‘You’re older than me!’

He grips you in a bare hug and shakes you from side to side. ‘Doesn’t matter, you’re far wiser than I will ever be.’

Suddenly a car pulls up and Jungkook is apologetically staring at you both from the driver’s seat. Before any of you can register what’s going on, Namjoon has vaulted out of the passenger side, across the car and scooped you into his arms.

‘Oh my god, I was so worried.’ His hands moved across your face and hair as if to make sure everything was where he’d last left it. ‘I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour but you haven’t been answering. I was freaking out and then Jimin said that Yoongi had also gone awol and hadn’t been in his studio for at least an hour and we put two and two together-‘

It was at that moment that Namjoon remembered Yoongi standing there, his arms swinging from where you’d been ripped from them. Namjoon instinctively put himself between you and him.

‘What do you want? What did you say to her? You’ve got some fucking nerve coming anywhere near her.’

Jungkook was out the car now and fruitlessly had his hands between the two, unsure who he was going to have to hold back.

You scoffed and pushed past Joon. ‘It’s ok Joon. It’s fine.’ You kept a steady hand on his arm.

‘We talked it out. It’s ok. It’s sorted, Yoongi apologised, all is forgiven, I promise.’

Namjoon’s eyes flitted between yours and Yoongi’s, the pain in them at having to fight his best friend over his girlfriend starting to seep through.

Yoongi must’ve seen it as well because he stepped forward. ‘Joon it’s true. She called me. I apologised, atoned for my sins, we solved neo-colonialism and late capitalism, we’re good.’ Namjoon’s eyes were still tight, he wasn’t moving. Yoongi sighed and grabbed his neck before Jungkook could intervene, leaning his forehead against Joon’s. ‘She’s incredible bro. You’re lucky to have her. I’m so fucking grateful she forgave me. I can’t wait to get to know her better. Can you forgive me?’

There was an intense few seconds. Before some silent communication took place because suddenly Namjoon and Yoongi were in the deepest of hugs. The kind of bear hug guys will do, slapping each other on the back and sort of rocking back and forth. You joined Jungkook on the sidelines, leaning against the car and trying not to laugh at the greatest romance in history unfolding before your eyes.

‘I missed you bro.’

‘I missed you too.’

‘Uughh!’ Jungkook loudly groaned, ribbing you. ‘Hyung can we go get tonkatsu now or what?’

[jrob64]

Ghosted

Chapter 1 - Hauntings

Here is the first chapter of my contribution for this year's Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I have many people to thank for helping me get this written and posted by my assigned date.

Thank you to my fellow mods of CSSNS24 - @winterbaby89 @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. I'm so glad we've had such a great response to this last event!

More thanks to Krystal for creating the absolutely amazing pic set for this story. It turned out great, didn't it? Making Neal and Liam appear ghostly was the handiwork of @motherkatereloyshipper, so she also deserves my appreciation.

Rounding out my list of thank yous is my ever-loyal beta, @hookedmom. I've been writing CS stories for nearly six years and she's been with me for the vast majority of them!

I anticipate this story being 3-4 chapters long in total. It isn't completely written yet, so unfortunately I can't provide a posting schedule, but I assure you it WILL be finished. If you're not on my tag list and would like to be informed when future chapters post, please let me know.

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures (which is worth watching simply for the entertainment factor.) I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works beyond being a viewer. Please excuse all errors and keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (Chapter 1): 4700

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Juggling a large Americano and a blueberry scone, Emma Swan made a beeline across the coffee shop for the small table in the corner. Whenever she stopped in, she tried to sit there because it was beside the window and was only big enough for one chair. Even when the shop was crowded, no one could join her or bother her by asking if ‘this seat is taken’. She could be left alone, which was the way she preferred it in the mornings.

Taking a sip of the near-scalding beverage, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, savoring the aromatic flavor on her tongue. She tried not to make a habit of coming to this shop, but her coffee maker died over the weekend and she needed her shot of caffeine.

She was nibbling on the corner of her scone when she felt her phone vibrate with an incoming text. Pulling it out of the back pocket of her jeans, she saw that it was from her friend Ruby. The partial message on the lock screen said I’ve got huge news. Are you sitting down?

Emma huffed out a sound of amusement as she unlocked her phone. Ruby’s ‘huge’ news was probably that Graham Humbert, who worked at the police station where Ruby was the dispatcher, had switched to a different scent of cologne. Instead, her eyes widened as she read the rest of the message:

They found Neal Cassidy dead in his cell this morning. Apparent suicide. Guess you won’t have to worry about him stalking you again when he gets out.

It took her a few moments to digest the information. For nearly two years, thoughts of that man had never been far from the forefront of her mind. The memories of their blossoming romantic relationship, which were replaced by her suspicions and ultimate confirmation of his criminal activities, raced through her brain as she stared at the message for an inordinate amount of time.

When she finally started typing a response to Ruby, a shadow fell across the table, blocking the late morning sun. It didn’t move for several moments, so she glanced up, meaning to find the source of it on the other side of the window.

And looked directly into the eyes of Neal Cassidy.

Shocked beyond words, she squeezed her eyes closed, then blinked repeatedly before she looked up again, her heart hammering in her chest.

He was gone.

*********

Emma met Neal at a car dealership where he worked as a salesman. She was looking to trade in her yellow VW bug for something more reliable and he was eager to help. He was charming and funny, so when he asked her out on a date after the sale was made, she didn’t hesitate to accept.

They dated for six months before she started getting the feeling that he was selling more than cars. Hearing him have secretive one-sided conversations on the phone and seeing him meet shady looking characters in neighborhoods known to be frequented by crime lords made her suspicious, but the day she found a small bag of crack cocaine in his apartment was the day she was officially done with him.

When she broke it off, Neal begged her to stay, bragging about how he was in line to become very important and wealthy someday soon, and would provide her with everything her heart desired. Emma assured him she did not desire to be in the company of drug dealers and walked away, determined to put that chapter of her life behind her.

Having witnessed his sales techniques, she was well aware that he was persistent, but his persistence rapidly turned into obsession. She received dozens of texts from him every day, along with numerous calls she refused to answer. After listening to a few voicemails he left declaring his love for her, she deleted the rest and blocked his number.

That didn’t deter him, though. He continued showing up at her apartment, the gym where she worked out, and her place of employment - the swanky hotel where she tended bar. It was annoying, but she didn’t feel threatened and didn’t think a restraining order against him was necessary.

After several months of rebuffing or simply ignoring him, she was relieved when two days in a row went by without any contact from him. Then Ruby called to tell her he had been busted for drug trafficking and was awaiting a hearing. A trial followed, he was sentenced to five years in prison, and Emma hoped she had seen the last of Neal Cassidy.

*********

Emma dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to her apartment on wobbly legs. She was still trembling from the encounter at the coffee shop, unable to shake the image of her deceased ex-boyfriend from her mind.

She had finally managed to send Ruby a text, asking her if she had proof Neal was actually dead. Ruby replied that her friend Dorothy, who worked at the prison where Neal was serving his time, saw his body on the gurney as he was taken out, and talked to the guard who found him hanging by a bed sheet. He was definitely dead.

The only explanation Emma could come up with for seeing Neal outside the window was that the shock of reading Ruby’s text caused her to conjure an image of him. But that didn’t explain the feeling she had of being watched or followed all the way home, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

When she reached the third floor, she wasn’t surprised to see her friend and neighbor, Killian Jones, in the hallway between their two doors, fiddling with a metal box which was emitting a strange humming sound. As a paranormal investigator and the host of a popular YouTube channel called “Killian Jones - Ghost Hunter”, he was always trying out various pieces of equipment.

He glanced up, his striking blue eyes fastening on her before his face split into a grin. “Hey, Swan. How are you today?”

She answered vaguely as she stopped in front of her door. Suddenly, the humming sound increased in volume and pitch and Killian’s smile faded into a look of confusion. Picking up what looked like a radar gun laying beside him on the floor, he stood and held it between himself and Emma.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, too intent on circling her slowly and studying the numbers on the gadget. When he finally looked up several seconds later, he hesitantly commented, “Swan…it appears you have a…a ghost following you.”

Emma felt the blood drain from her face and her knees buckle, which was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Killian barely caught Emma in time to keep her from hitting the floor as she fainted. Hoisting her up into his arms, he carried her inside his apartment. This was not how he expected her to end up in his arms, but he would take what he could get.

*********

The two of them had lived beside each other ever since Killian moved into the apartment next to hers when he arrived in Boston five years ago. At first, they just exchanged pleasantries when they passed in the hall. After a few months, they began to have short conversations about the weather and their frustration with the landlord. That led to them doing favors for one another, such as taking in packages, bringing the other’s clothes upstairs from the laundry room, and picking up items one of them forgot to buy at the grocery store. Eventually, they built up enough trust in each other that they traded apartment keys to make it more convenient to drop things off.

Every once in a while, they would share a pizza while watching TV in one of their apartments. Seeing Emma so relaxed in her own home, laughing and bantering with him, started Killian down the road of developing deeper feelings toward her. He was enamored with her wit and intelligence and thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

At times, he witnessed men coming to her door to pick her up for a date, something that always left him feeling bereft. Fortunately, most of them never came around more than once. He enjoyed listening to her humorous assessments of each man’s shortcomings afterwards.

Then she started dating Neal Cassidy, and during those months, Killian hardly saw her. When he did bump into the couple, Neal treated him with disdain, looking down his nose at him and scoffing at everything Killian said. It was made worse by the fact that Emma didn’t even seem to notice. Killian was sure he had missed his chance of acting on his feelings for her.

He almost felt guilty for being ecstatic upon finding out she’d broken up with Neal. His happiness turned to concern and then anger when Emma told him Neal wouldn’t leave her alone. The two men had words several times when Killian found him hanging around in the hall outside her apartment. Then Emma told him Neal had been arrested and sent to prison, and he was beyond relieved that the idiot wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

Still, Killian didn’t ask her out, reasoning that she’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. He continued to fall for her more and more, while she remained completely unaware of his burgeoning feelings toward her. Feelings that, by now, felt a lot like love.

*********

After laying her on his couch, Killian tapped Emma’s cheeks, urging, “Swan! Swan! Wake up! You have to wake up, Love.” When she didn’t respond, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Bloody hell, Lass. I didn’t mean to frighten you that badly.”

He glanced around the living room, trying to figure out what to do to help Emma regain consciousness. Going into his kitchen, he took a clean dish towel out of the drawer, placed some ice cubes inside and while there, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

She was still out cold when he emerged a minute later. Concern etched his face. In all the years he lived next door to Emma Swan, he never knew her to be anything but tough and strong. Seeing her lying there so ashen and unmoving unnerved him. He lifted her head slightly to place the ice under her neck.

Convinced there was nothing more he could do at the moment, he went back out to the hallway and collected his EMF meter, noticing that it was back to a steady hum. Picking up the infrared thermometer he had dropped, he saw the temperature had returned to normal. No more cold spots. Apparently whatever spirit that had entered the hallway with Emma was gone.

Reentering his apartment, he sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa to keep vigil over his neighbor, continuing to pat her cheeks and call her name from time to time. After several more long minutes, her eyelids began to flutter, then slowly opened. Her eyes darted around, obviously trying to figure out where she was. He could tell the moment she figured it out, because she groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t faint,” she pleaded.

“I wish I could, but that would be untrue,” he responded, tilting his head to offer her a small, reassuring smile when she uncovered her eyes.

She started to sit up, but he put a hand to her shoulder to stop her. “Easy, Swan. Better lie still a bit longer.”

With a huff of annoyance, she laid back down, adjusting the ice pack behind her neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She lay quietly for a while, nibbling on her bottom lip. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why, uh…why did you say that I had a ghost with me?”

She was obviously trying to pass off the question as being simply one of curiosity, but the look in her eyes told him she was quite serious about it.

“The infrared thermometer showed a definite cold spot and the EMF detector…”

“EMF detector?” she questioned. “What’s that?”

He sighed in frustration. “Don’t you ever watch my videos, Swan?” No matter how many times he talked to her about his show, he could never get her to commit to watching his YouTube channel.

“You know I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said.

He rolled his eyes before explaining. “An EMF detector measures electromagnetic fields. A high reading indicates the presence of a spirit.” He paused, making sure he worded his next statement carefully. “And perhaps you had better rethink your position on ghosts, because my instruments strongly suggested paranormal activity around you.”

She closed her eyes and cursed. Killian picked up the bottle of water and held it out to her. She sat up and accepted it, taking a long drink as she propped her feet on the table beside him.

“Care to enlighten me as to why you fainted when I told you my findings?” he inquired.

Capping the bottle, she held it against her forehead for a minute or two - long enough for Killian to wonder if she was going to give him an answer. Finally, she looked up at him and murmured, “Do you remember Neal Cassidy?”

“The wanker who hung around outside your apartment for months after you broke up with him?”

“That’s the one. Did I tell you that he was sentenced to prison for drug trafficking?”

“Aye, you did.”

“Well, apparently he hung himself in his cell. They found his body this morning.”

Killian let out a low whistle. “You think it could be his spirit that was causing my instruments to spike?”

She looked down again, fiddling with the label on the water bottle. “Possibly…because…” She drew in a deep breath. “Because I saw him outside the coffee shop this morning,” she said on an exhale.

Trying not to overreact and make Emma even more uncomfortable, he swallowed hard. “Now, when you say you saw him…”

“I mean I saw him,” she emphasized. “My friend Ruby texted to tell me about Neal’s death and as I was in the process of answering her, I noticed this shadow that didn’t move outside the window where I was sitting. When I looked up, Neal was standing there, staring right at me. I blinked, then he was gone.”

Killian’s ‘ghost hunter’ mind was getting excited about the prospect of being able to investigate a spirit practically under his own nose, but his heart went out to her. Being haunted was something he was more or less used to, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Did you see him again after that?” he asked.

“No, but I had this…feeling while I was walking home; like someone was watching me. It really freaked me out.”

“So when I told you there was a ghost following you…”

“It was lights out for me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never fainted before.”

Killian reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Love. I’ve met many people who’ve had the exact same reaction when faced with the possibility of being in the presence of a ghost.”

“Seriously?”

He rubbed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his impatience. “If you watched my YouTube channel, you would be aware of that.”

“No offense, but the last thing I want to do right now is watch people being haunted.”

“That’s quite understandable, considering what you’ve been through today.”

She took another swig of water, then looked up at him. “Do you think he’s gone? Moved on, or whatever?”

Killian blew out a breath. “Probably not. My guess is he has unfinished business or he would have already moved on.”

“That’s just great,” Emma muttered sarcastically. “How long can I expect him to hang around?”

“Until he accomplishes what he needs to do.”

“So what am I supposed to do until then?” she moaned.

“Just go about your daily routine. If you see him or sense he’s there, gently tell him that he has died and needs to move on.”

 “So saying ‘go to hell’ wouldn’t be a wise choice?”

He bark laughed. “I’m not sure that would be very effective.”

She drained the rest of the water, set the empty bottle on the table and stood up. Killian stood too, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Alright there, Swan?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m gonna go get something to eat and take it easy this afternoon until I have to go to work.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” As she started toward the door, he added, “Uh, Emma? Could I ask a favor of you?”

She turned to look at him. “A favor for the guy who carried me into his apartment and took care of me when I fainted like a prissy debutante? Sure.”

“If, um, if Neal’s spirit does reappear, would you be opposed to letting me document it?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head in contemplation. “What would you do exactly?”

“Use equipment to detect paranormal activity and post it to my YouTube channel.”

“You mean that ESPN detector and stuff like that?”

He sighed in exasperation. “It’s EMF, Swan. Yes, that and voice recorders to conduct EVP sessions…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stop saying letters. You know I don’t know what that shit means.”

“Electronic voice phenomena sessions record sounds or voices from ghosts. If he’s trying to communicate with you, we might be able to pick it up on a voice recorder.”

Shrugging, she replied, “That’s fine. I’m sure it would get lots of hits for your channel.”

He stepped into her personal space, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I hope you know that’s not why I want to do this, Emma. My goal is to help you encourage him to move on so you will no longer have to deal with him. It’s bad enough he stalked you while he was alive; doing it after he’s dead is even worse.”

She gave a slight nod. “You’re right about that.” Pushing up to her toes, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks again for everything, Killian. If I get the feeling he’s back, I’ll call you right away.”

“Day or night, Swan. I’m at your beck and call.”

“Good to know,” she smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

He watched her walk out the door, reaching up to rub his cheek where she kissed him. He was going to have to do his best to remain professional around her, but potentially having Emma as his next subject was going to be quite the challenge.

*********

Emma entered her apartment, quickly flipped on the light switch, and glanced around nervously. Not seeing or sensing anything out of the ordinary, she moved into the kitchen.

After heating up leftovers and eating lunch, she climbed into her worn, comfy recliner to scroll through Hulu. She tried to concentrate on her selected show, but her eyes kept darting around the room. “Fuck you, Neal,” she muttered. “Making me paranoid in my own home.”

Finally giving up on watching TV, she went into her bedroom to select her clothes for work that evening. Then she decided to take a long, relaxing bath. The longer she soaked in the tub without any sign of Neal’s ghostly image, the more she relaxed.

By the time she left for work three hours later, she was nearly back to her normal self and very hopeful that he had indeed moved on.

*********

After Emma left his apartment, Killian tidied up - dumping the melting ice cubes into the sink, hanging the towel to dry, and throwing the empty water bottle into his recycling bin. Then he checked all of his ghost hunting equipment, setting the batteries to charge if they were a little low.

Plopping down on the couch, he pulled up the message app on his phone and clicked on the group text with his technical director, Belle French, and his assistant, Will Scarlett.

K: We may have a new gig right here in my apartment building.

As expected, he got an immediate response from Will. The man’s eyes were practically glued to his phone screen most of the time.

W: Got a haunter right under your nose, do ya?

Belle’s answer several minutes later was a little more refined.

B: Can you provide us with any details?

K: My neighbor’s ex-boyfriend committed suicide in prison and she’s experiencing some paranormal activity. She says she saw his ghost outside a coffee shop and when she got home, I was in the hall with the EMF meter and thermo. Both of them spiked.

B: Oh, wow! That’s incredible! Sad for the guy and your neighbor, but what an opportunity!

W: Is this neighbor the hot blonde you’ve been crushin’ on for years?

Killian dropped his head back and groaned. He should have known better than to have confessed his unrequited feelings to his assistant during a boring all-nighter in an old warehouse in Portland, Maine last year.

K: That’s a very crass way to put it, but yes, it’s Emma.

W: You mean we might actually get to meet her?

K: Not if you’re going to be an ass about it.

W: I’ll be on me best behavior, I promise.

K: Why doesn’t that reassure me?

B: What are your plans, Killian?

Leave it to Belle to be the peacemaker of the conversation, Killian thought. If he was feeling vengeful toward Will, he could mention the crush his friend had on the auburn-haired beauty. How she never realized it, Killian would never know. Will was the very definition of heart eyes whenever he was around her.

K: I’ve got my equipment ready to go. If she senses anything, she’s going to call me. If it’s a recurring thing, we’ll set up an EVP session. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Just wanted to put you on alert.

B: Sounds good. I’ll be editing tomorrow. The new episode should be ready to post by Thursday.

K: Thanks, Belle. You’re the best!

W: He’s right, ya know. You really are bloody brilliant.

Seriously - how could she not see it when Will was always falling all over himself to proclaim her perfection?

Once Killian ended the conversation, he wandered into the room he used as his office.

“Hello, little brother.”

*********

From a very early age, Killian had been able to sense paranormal activity. He was confused by it for many years, but as he grew and began to read about ghosts, he realized he had a gift, albeit an unwanted one.

When he was twelve, his mother passed and he was there to witness her soul departing her body. She only stayed long enough to declare her never-ending love for her boys and bid him goodbye, before she moved on to her eternal reward.

Eight years later, when Liam died in a naval training exercise, Killian expected him to join their mother. However, his brother’s apparition began appearing to him from time to time. At first, his appearance was simply a mist, barely recognizable, but as Killian did more research into the paranormal and practiced tapping into his abilities, it became more discernible. Still, he was frustrated that he could see his brother, but was unable to speak to him.

He purchased several pieces of equipment used by paranormal investigators, hoping to enhance his encounters with Liam. They turned out to be very helpful, but Liam soon learned to communicate with his brother well enough that the tools weren’t necessary.

On a whim, Killian posted videos of himself explaining the use of equipment to make contact with ghosts on YouTube, and soon he was in demand as a paranormal investigator. People were willing to pay large sums of money to be able to make contact with their departed loved ones, or to encourage ghosts to move on. He quit his job as a dock worker and began traveling, taking his friend Will along with him, and when the technical aspects of editing and posting to YouTube proved too daunting, he hired Belle.

Even his closest friends were unaware that Killian’s deceased brother appeared and spoke with him on a regular basis; he wanted to keep that part of his life to himself.

*********

It still startled Killian whenever the apparition of his brother appeared, but it wasn’t ever an unwelcome intrusion. His visits never lasted long, but there was always enough time for a nice chat.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten I’m a grown man and therefore your younger brother,” Killian reminded Liam, for at least the fiftieth time.

“I’m not sure that’s technically true any more, since you’ve now lived past the age I was when I died.”

Killian hated it when Liam talked about his own death. “You were born before me, so you’ll always be older.”

“Hmm…” Liam responded, giving his brother the maddening little nod that meant he was right and Killian was wrong. “So, the lovely lass you’re pining for was here today, aye?”

“How did you know that?” Killian asked unnecessarily. Obviously Liam had popped in and, being a tad preoccupied taking care of Emma, he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m not doing the job of watching over my little brother very well if I don’t know what’s going on in his life.”

Killian had never come right out and asked Liam about the unfinished business that kept him from moving on, but having been his guardian for years before his death, he was sure it was to continue taking care of him. Not that he needed it, but he wasn’t complaining, as long as he had a chance to have his older brother with him in some shape or form.

“She, uh…she fainted so I brought her in to lay her on my sofa. I couldn’t very well let her lay on the floor in the hallway.”

“What caused her to faint?” Liam asked, his playful tone giving way to concern.

“Seems she was visited by the ghost of her departed ex-boyfriend. You didn’t see him hanging around, did you?”

“You know spirits seldom bump into one another, unless they were associated with each other while they were living.”

“I just thought I would ask. It spooked her badly - no pun intended.”

“Have you agreed to help her?”

“Aye, if I can. The guy made her life miserable when he was alive. She shouldn’t have to put up with him after his death.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Perhaps this will give you a chance to get closer to her. Maybe you’ll even work up the nerve to finally ask her out.”

Killian sighed. “I’m not going to do that when she’s so vulnerable, Liam. I simply want to get the tosser to move on.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know,” Killian conceded.

“You’ve had feelings for that lass for ages, Killy. When are you going to act on them?”

“I’m afraid she’s only ever going to think of me as a friend. If I ask her out and she turns me down, I might lose her friendship, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

Killian didn’t answer. He’d had this conversation with his brother before and Liam always pushed him to ask Emma out. He didn’t understand why his love life was so important to his brother, but whenever he asked him, Liam was evasive and refused to answer.

“Just think about it, Killian. I have to go. I love you, Brother.”

“Love you, too, Liam.”

He watched his brother’s translucent form dissolve, leaving him sad and lonely, as always. He didn’t know when Liam would complete his unfinished business, but he did know that when he finally did, Killian would be left alone once again.

Unbeknownst to him, Liam’s unfinished business was to see his brother happily married to the love of his life, but it was up to Killian to take the first step.

*********

Thanks very much for reading. Be sure to check out the other great stories in the CSSNS24 collection!

Tagging:

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[redlittlefoxari]

To The Ends Of Faêrun: Chapter Sixteen: Something in the Air

This series is book two of a fanfic I have already written called Astarion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making Life

Master List Here for Books One, and Two

*List includes a prequel that is essentially one-shots of their adventures over the fifty years after the battle at the end of the game*

Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, NSFW 18+, Smut

Summary: Tav gets wrapped up in the Midwinter festival, Shadowhearts and Gale are drinking. While Astarion is hunting for dinner. But something is in the air.

Tav stood in the square just over the bridge leading to Moonrise towers. The distillery that once housed one of the most disgusting creatures she had ever seen in her life was now cleaned, polished, and in total working order again. Dozens of people poured in and out, looking for more than just the hot cider and mulled wine that lay on tables all over the square. They looked for spirits and conversation as the music from a traveling bard played and made casual conversation almost impossible. It’s not that they were terrible by any means; it was just that the volume at which they played their violin was a little grating on the ears. 

Everyone had forgone their armor in lieu of some more casual clothes. Gale was inside the distillery giving an impromptu lecture to a few drunk bystanders dressed in a wool sweater and jacket. Shadowheart parked herself next to the cauldron of mulled wine and wore a long, fur-lined winter dress with an equally long jacket. Tav decided to go with something that allowed her to move freely just in case she needed to spring into action. She wore a long-sleeved red blouse and a pair of tight-fitting pants, her hair tied up in a ponytail to stay out of her eyes. 

A gaggle of children ran by, Apple being among them as she ran with her new friends. Tav kept a watchful eye on her child as too much sugar had led Apple in the past to get overly excited, and that usually led her to bite. Halsin had made it a point to introduce Tav and Astarion to all of the parents and villagers he could, which helped alleviate some of the anxiety of letting her around strangers. They had found that what Halsin had said was true; everyone in the settlement was, as far as she could tell, of a sound mind. The only problem was a few angsty teenagers who weren’t even at the party at the moment. So the only thing Tav was worried about at the moment was Apple getting too excited on candied Apples or the dozens of other sugary drinks and food items and biting someone. 

She looked around for Astarion, who was notably absent. He had told her that he was going to get something to eat, and that was almost an hour ago. Tav just chalked it up to animals being hard to come by because most were in hibernation. Or that he had to go further away from the settlement where people wouldn’t see him feed. Either way, Tav was starting to wonder where he was and if she needed to go out and look for him. 

“How are you enjoying the party?” Halsin’s voice came from behind Tav, causing her to jump. “I’m sorry.” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

“It’s okay.” Tav placed her hand over her heart. “It’s hard to hear anything over that violin.” 

“I’ve asked him to play softer a few times now, and it has fallen on deaf ears.” Halsin shook his head. 

“Maybe that’s why he plays so loud.” Tav smiled. “They made themselves deaf.” 

Halsin laughed, which caught the attention of a few people who were around, including the bard who shot the two of them a dirty look. “I think  he knows we are talking about him.” 

“At least people are talking  about it.” Tav shrugged. “That’s all bards care about anyways.” 

“Very true.” Halsin looked around. “Where is Astarion? Is he not with you?”

“He’s getting something to eat.” Tav touched her neck with two fingers. 

“Ah, I should have guessed.” Halsin nodded. “I’ve noticed you haven’t left this spot all night.” He gave her an assessing stare. “Are you not enjoying the party?”

“No, I am…Well, as much as I can from here.” Tav’s eyes trailed after Apple. “I’m watching her.” 

Halsin followed Tav’s line of sight to her daughter. “I told you everyone here will not harm her; they are good people; you even saw that yourself earlier.” 

“It’s not them I’m worried about.” Tav watched Apple grab a sweet roll. “Apple! Put that back!”

Apple dropped the roll and looked around to find Tav. “Sorry, mom!” She licked her fingers before running off with her friends again. 

Tav blew out a sigh as she returned some of her attention back to Halsin. Leaving one eye on the dessert table. Halsin looked at her with sympathy as he started to understand why Tav needed to abstain from the night's events. 

“When she has too much sugar, she gets excited; when she gets excited, she bites.” Tav said matter-of-factly. “You wouldn’t believe all the times we had to apologize and explain away why she bites.” Tav deflated. “But we found that if we limit her sugar intake, she doesn’t bite.” 

“I see…” Halsin trailed off. 

The two stood and watched everything that happened around them. People started to come out of the distillery and dance. Now, having enough liquor in their systems, the loud music didn’t bother them. Tav could only guess how many children were going to be born nine months from now due to their parent's drunken reverie, and it brought a sad smile to her lips. Tendrils of sorrow spread through her chest at the thought. She thought about it briefly and then pushed it away altogether. Not wanting to be put in a sour mood by her own mind. 

Halsin assessed her before speaking. “Why don’t I keep an eye on little Apple for you the rest of the night?” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Tav gave him her full attention. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your people.” 

“You wouldn’t.” He placed his hands on her shoulders as he stepped in front of her. “I have already spoken to everyone I care to, and before I saw you, I was already on my way to play with the children in my bear form.” 

“Are you sure?” Tav looked at him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. 

“I’m sure!” Halsin turned Tav around and pushed her towards one of the many cauldrons of hot cider and mulled wine. “Now go! I will make sure Apple is taken care of and in bed at a reasonable hour.” 

Tav turned her head slightly. “Just be sure she doesn’t eat too much! Oh, wait, I need to tell her to stop and drink some water; she's been running a lot.” Tav looked around for her daughter.

“I will let her know!” Halsin used his archdruid voice. “Now go!”

Tav moved towards where Shadowheart was seated and grabbed a cup. She looked at the two cauldrons filled with the available piping-hot liquids. Shdowheart was enjoying the mulled wine that was spiced with cinnamon, orange peels, and cranberries already deep in her cups as Tav noted the red glow of her cheeks. Tav decided that she should still have her wits about her and grabbed the ladle that belonged to the non-alcoholic apple cider. 

“You’re not going to get drunk off of that one.” Shadowheart spoke just before taking a drink from her glass. 

“I know.” Tav drank her cider and felt the heat course through her body. “I don’t want to get drunk in front of my child.” 

“Oh right… For some reason, I keep forgetting you’re a mother.” Shadowheart looked around for Apple. “I need to come see her more… She is my favorite niece.”

“She’s your only niece,” Tav replied, rolling her eyes.

“Right, and that’s why she’s my favorite.” Shadowheart gave Tav a playful smile. “She is great; you know the two of you got lucky.”

“In more ways than I can count.” Tav looked at the crowd forming around the bard. 

Drunken men and women tried their best to sing as the bard played, and none of them hitting the right notes. Tav took a long drink from her cider, warming her further as she hummed along to the song. The song was called The Beauty of Baldur’s Gate and told of the beautiful maiden who slew the absolute along with her righteous friends and saved all of Faerun from the Mind Flayer invasion. As far as songs about her went, it was one of Tav’s favorites. 

Shadowheart looked at Tav. “Didn’t you and Astarion once enter a bard competition?” 

“UGH!” Tav growned at the question. “No, he entered me in the contest to catch a man who was killing the local bards.” Tav turned her attention back to Shadowheart. “It turns out a bard slept with his wife and took it upon himself to eliminate all bards from the town.” 

Tav remembered the day Astarion had burst through their room at the local inn they were staying at and proclaimed that she would be participating. After a long argument, Tav conceded to participating. They had planned to have Tav not actually sing but instead get access Backstage in hopes that the killer would strike. But one thing had led to another, and Tav had found herself on stage with the crowd calling for her to sing. Then another local bard started to play the flute, and something in her called for her to sing. All the while, Astarion took down the murderer from backstage, and Tav took first place. 

“Didn’t you win?” Shadowheart raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Only because the murderer had already killed all the best bards in town.” Tav downed the remains of her cup and turned to fill it again.

“Why don’t you go up and try your hat at getting the notes right.” Shadowheart gave Tav her best puppy dog eyes. “I’ve never heard you sing, and I would love to.” 

Tav avoided her gaze and instead turned her attention back to the crowd surrounding the bard. They had moved on to another song, and the crowd had swelled to almost double what it had been only a few moments ago. Tav could barely see him as he continued to play host to the drunks around him. They still were having trouble finding the correct notes. 

Just as Tav was about to head inside to find Gale, the bard stopped playing and shouted over the crowd. “Is there anyone out there who is not drunk and can carry a tune?” He jammed his finger in his ear. “I fear I will contract tone deafness if someone does not aid me soon.” 

Tav started walking away past Shadowheart when she stood abruptly and grabbed Tav’s hand. Raising it high in the air. “My friend can offer you some aid!” She shouted. 

Tav pulled her hand from Shadowheart's grip and got in her friend's face. “What are you doing?”

“Making you have a bit of fun.” Shadowheart swayed. “It’s Midwinter! Come on, live a little!”

 The crowd parted as cheers started erupting from all around Tav. If she walked away now, it would look as if she was scared, which she wasn’t, nor was she afraid to stand in front of this crowd. She blew out a long, calming breath and walked up to the bard, who was looking at her expectantly. 

“Hello, my lady; my name is Samuel Crestwind.” Samuel bowed. “And what name does a woman as fair as you go by?”

“Tav.” She looked around at the crowd, waiting patiently for the next song. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the same Tav that liberated this place of the shadow curse and save Baldur’s Gate?” Samuel asked in awe. 

“The very same.” Tav looked away and blushed. 

“Everyone!” Samuel addressed the crowd. “We don’t have any ordinary person before us! This is Tav, liberator of shadows and the legendary hero of Baldur’s Gate!”

The crowd cheered as Samuel made his announcement, and Tav’s blush deepened. She could feel a strange power surge from the crowd as they cheered. It felt almost as if she was gaining something from them. A strange form of magic, but just as she felt the strange tug, it was gone before could identify it.

“What songs do you know, Tav?” He gave her a flirtatious smile. 

“Pretty much all the popular ones.” She gave him her best polite smile. “Just start playing, and if I don’t know it, I’ll make something up.” 

“As you wish.” Samuel lifted his violin so that it rested on his left shoulder. “Let us see what you can do. 

Tav swallowed, and Samuel started the first few notes of The Green Eyes of Mallistari. The song was about a human woodsman who had fallen in love with an elven woman, and they met under the full moon to state their love for one another. Tav rolled her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her mouth to serenade the crowd. 

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

It had taken Astarion far too long to find something to eat. As he crested the hill that bordered the settlement, the Midwinter party was already in full swing. The hunt wasn’t a complete bust, as he was able to find two squirrels and a raccoon. Not as good as other things he could be dining on, but they would do for the meantime. 

A crowd of people surrounded a bard and his partner as the two danced and entertained the growing crowd. Concern gripped him as he continued into the square where he had left Tav two hours ago as he couldn’t find her anywhere. 

Astarion looked over to see Shadowheart clapping. Her body turned around on the bench to watch the crowd better. He approached her to see if she knew where Tav went as he clocked Apple playing with a bear that he hoped was Halsin. As he approached Shadowheart, her face broke out into a wide smile. It made him uneasy as it gave him the aura that she knew something that he didn’t. 

“There you are!” Shadowheart stayed seated. “Where have you been? You have missed one hell of a party.” 

“I was getting something to eat.” Astarion continued to look around. “Have you seen Tav!?”  He shouted over the noise of the bards and the crowd. 

“I have seen her.” Shadowheart smiled into her cup as she took a drink. 

“And where is she exactly?” Astarion didn’t have time to play games with her, not when Tav could be alone somewhere. 

“Behind you.” Shadowheart leaned back against the table. 

Astarion looked behind him and just found the crowd. “Are you saying she’s in that crowd?” 

“More like the crowd is around her.” Shadowheart slurred as she spoke. 

He turned back around and really listened to the voices that were going on around him. Beyond the sounds of the drunks cheering, there was a high, sweet voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. Not since the days when Apple needed to be sung to sleep, and although Astarion did his best, he was never able to hold a candle to the voice that Apple always asked for. He looked back at Shadowheart to confirm what he was thinking. All she did was nod; she didn’t need him to ask his question to know what he needed to know. 

Astarion started to make his way through the crowd, pushing his way past dozens of men and women. All of them were not putting up a fight, as many of them were too drunk to know what was happening before he had passed them. As he got closer to the front of the crowd, Tav’s voice became clear and it was harder to deny that it was really her. It had taken Astarion hours to convince her to do the bard competition over fifty years ago, and she still fought tooth and nail to get out of it any way she could. The only logical explanation as to why she was doing it willingly now was that she must be shit-faced. 

As he broke into the front of the crowd, he was shocked at what he saw. Tav’s curls cascaded over her shoulders in a waterfall of brown silk. She was glowing in the moonlight but not from any magic but her own sweat that glistened on her forehead and the parts of her chest he could see. A large smile accented her face as she sang and danced to the tune that some man playing the violin was fiddling away. Her face was red, and she was panting, which told Astarion that she had been doing this for quite some time. 

The song ended, and she locked eyes with him. “Astarion!” She ran over to him, and as she did, she tried to catch her breath. “Did you find something to eat?”

“Yes…” Astarion looked into her eyes. “Tav, how much have you had to drink?” 

“None.” Tav panted. “Shadowheart volunteered me to come up and sing.” She grabbed his hands and smiled. “And then the crowd started cheering, then the next thing I knew, I had sung six songs.” 

She was positively glowing. The smile on her face beamed at him, and Astarion found himself staring back at her in awe, gravitating towards her like she had cast a spell on him. Tav was stunning, a vision of pure beauty as she looked into his eyes, and it felt as if she was the answer to everything he had ever asked for. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tav giggled before fear took over. “Is Apple okay?” She squeezed his hands. “Halsin said he was watching her! Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Halsin is doing a fine job entertaining her; it’s just…” Astarion trailed off as he released one of her hands and cupped her cheek with his now free hand. “You look radiant, my Darling.” 

Tav leaned into his touch. “I’m sweaty, that’s probably why.” 

“No.” Astarion stepped towards her, not caring that a horde of people surrounded them. “You put all the goddesses to shame with your beauty.” 

Astarion leaned down and placed his lips to Tav’s. Her lips parted to give him full access to her mouth. She tasted like spiced Apples baked with cinnamon and cloves, whereas he tasted the iron of the animals he had just consumed. The crowd around them cheered, and some grumbled about how it wasn’t fair that pretty boys always got the bards. A different hunger grew in Astarion as he broke the kiss and saw the same hunger in Tav’s eyes. 

“Come with me.” Astarion pulled Tav through the crowd. 

Tav waved goodbye to Samuel, who shouted his dissatisfaction at Tav's departure. “Where are we going?”

“To feed each other mind, body, and soul.” Astarion started to make his way to the inn, Tav following not far behind as she held onto his hand. 

Tag list:

@ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21 @five-salty-bitters @lenarosic88 @caydevakarian @supervrgnsokay-blog @ravenswritingroom @kalypsoox @foxiecelery @wisteriaofthegraves

[seneitut]

‘‘Redemption’‘

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Yoru/F!Reader][Slight Gekko/Reader(?)]

Words: 10K

Tags: Fluff, break-up, jealousy, introspection, technicality of the game (Wanted to play with the AFK idea oopsie), NSFW +18, handjob, oral sex, teasing, dom/sub undertones, vaginal sex, more fluff, aftercare.

[Sorry for the wait, I had matters to take care of before posting this and, as you can see, is literally the longest fanfic I’ve written so far so I had to make a lot of revisions before posting it.]

-----------------------------

A few weeks later, Gekko breaks up with you.

Sudden and quick, from what he's been told.

Is surprising how fast the news travels within the few agents who are interested in something so mundane as gossiping inside the protocol. And Yoru is certain he wouldn't indulge in it if it weren't for Jett's loud mouth and perfect timing to witness the event unfolding in front of her very eyes.

The part where she decides Yoru should be the first to get the news was out of his control. Jett made sure the gossip was spread around like wildfire, starting with him and consequently Phoenix, to later on be told to Raze and Killjoy, and like dominoes, it all went downhill.

You didn't deserve something this personal to be vented out like it was nothing, and while he reprimanded Jett for being so careless and stupid for breaking your trust, her apologies wouldn't quell what has already been burnt.

What were the reasons? He asks himself that night. Why did this happen?

There is a faint clink between the tools he switches from hand to hand, discarding the one he doesn't need at the moment, before he goes back to fixing his bike. 

The loose screws and the heavy puffs of breath he exhales are the only sounds accompanying him in the empty room, too deep in thought and simply mulling over what developed in the conversation that culminated in your relationship with Gekko.

Is unhealthy of him to think about your love life when he has nothing to do with it; but Yoru is nothing but a curious human, and as flawed as he might be, the need to know nags him unceasingly. 

Yoru wonders if you ever told Gekko what transpired between you two that night. And if so, wouldn’t he understand that he was the one to take advantage of you? Yoru initiated the approach. He kissed you without asking for your permission—and while it is true that he acted upon impulses and you miraculously reciprocated, he is still to blame and be taken accountability for complicating things.

But if that wasn't the case, if you decided to keep the secret of your little moment of weakness and passion to yourself, has Gekko been planning this beforehand and simply decided to toy with your feelings for this long? Because that wouldn't make any sense.

Gekko has always acted like you were his everything; his light, his moon, his whole world. Gekko always made sure to let everyone know how much he was in love with you, much to Yoru's chagrin, and has been your personal cheerleader at everything since day one.

And now, he decides he's tired of it and breaks up with you without any explanation?

How fucking dare him.

The man is stupid for letting go who could possibly be the strongest and kindest person he's known; just what the fuck was he thinking to break your heart like this? Wasn’t he boasting about your amazing relationship a couple of weeks ago? What changed? Why was he backing off like a coward?

The shock about the separation turns into confusion, which soon boils into pure anger sizzling from the inside of his heart.

Anger is a very known feeling to him, an acquaintance to his impulses when he was younger. When he used to fall under his emotions with no regards to whoever received them, it got him into trouble more often than not, sometimes to the point he would wake up in a hospital bed after a bad beating against Tokyo’s gangs or whoever dared to mess with him.

Was it worth falling under those impulses again, when he has come far and grown from those times?

It is not his place, in truth, to be this angry. You are nothing to him, a friend at most after all. Should he be reeling in anger just because someone hurted you?

No, but he does it anyway.

Inside the rift, everything has its place. Time, space and matter all have their purpose set straight unlike him, who doesn’t really belong in this dimension and he bends them to his liking. When he goes through it, his body feels like it sinks underwater, although his movements are not deterred despite the feeling, it gets overwhelming if Yoru stays for too long. 

Omen has once mentioned how it feels to leave a part of himself everytime he goes through the rift, does it hurt? Can he feel himself tearing apart? He doesn’t, he doesn’t feel any sort of pain, and Yoru wonders if that should concern him or shall not be too worried.

But no matter, that is of no importance right now.

It doesn’t take long for him to find Gekko while running through the base, the tip of his fingers tingling with the want to release some steam and chest heaving with anger seeping off of him. 

Gekko is lounging at the range with Reyna by his side. His whole posture is slouched, head between his hands and avoiding Reyna’s gentle but confused expression.

Both are lucky he doesn’t carry a weapon or else a crime would have taken place at the base. He's bluffing, of course, because he wouldn't dare to harm others severely. 

Yoru wishes he could, though.

For the time being, he will remain inside the rift and watch in silence. If he's going to punch Gekko until he becomes a pulp, he rather do it alone without witnesses. That and he doesn’t want to deal with Reyna’s wrath if she were to be present when he beats the shit out of this scum.

They seem to be talking about something, but it doesn't seem to be escalated enough to label it as an argument but it wasn’t a normal conversation either. 

When he decides to take a closer look, he finds Gekko with a devastated expression on his face and eyes misty with a thin layer of tears. Is shocking, to say the least, being the witness to such an abnormal expression on the usual happy man.

Reyna is frowning, a tight line set on her lips and hand hovering over his shoulder, hesitant whether to touch him or not.

Through the rift, the sounds come garbled and sometimes impossible to discern with the huge gap between the time passing by and him floating in nothingness. Yoru approaches further, cautious, for maybe Reyna might be able to distinguish his soul in between the subtle breaking in the rift.

“Why did you have to break it off, though?” She mutters, a confused expression painting her features. “Las cosas iban bien entre ustedes, ¿no es así?”

Gekko shrugs, not wanting to voice his thoughts.

“She likes you, Teo,” Yoru doesn’t know what’s going on. “She likes you a lot, mijo.”

Gekko’s eyes look downcast, a sad smile tugging his lips.

“She might like me.” he whispers brokenly. “But she doesn’t love me.”

Yoru might be a killing machine on the field and a cold-hearted person towards others if he so desires; he’s been told so many times before. But at this moment, he understands that his anger should be quelled and tone it down a little bit, for he is not the only one who is hurt and he might have misinterpreted the whole situation.

What could be worse, than finding out the person you love doesn't share the same sentiment to the same degree as you do? 

He's gone through the path once, way before meeting you, but never considered himself hurt because he was experimenting with said emotion. Because love is weird, a state in oneself where you are the weakest and he hated feeling like that. 

It was thanks to you he decided to transform this weakness into a strength, despite knowing it could bite his ass one day. Yoru gave in to his desires with you, and he admits you acknowledging his intentions and reciprocating them gave him the sort of euphoria he doesn’t find often in fights.

Gekko is as upset as you might be, more hurt than one might think.

What should he do now?

Staring off into the distance, Yoru thinks emotions are bullshit and way too difficult to deal with.

Gekko and yourself have been a clear example to how far he can go because of some petty feeling like jealousy or lust, and how pathetic it made him act without thinking of the consequences—not like he's cared about that before.

But because of this, Jett has been his shoulder to cry on, and Phoenix his ear to lend when he feels like he cannot handle the mixed emotions into a devastating concoction of overwhelmingness. 

Both have been the key to fix himself up and rebuild after learning of your relationship, despite reassuring with anger that he was fine when it was not true.

His friends are good and he doesn't deserve them, in truth, with how shitty he has been in the past. But for so long he has been denying himself the pleasure to get things that are meant to be his, and this is one of them. 

Yoru will learn to heal and move on, sooner or later, and he hopes he can face you without feeling troubled or confused as to what he wants in life.

Things never get easier from afar.

“Launch site, be there in ten.” Brimstone calls out to him one day. 

To say he scared the shit out of him would be an understatement, choking on his beverage before glaring at the commander with the dirtiest look he could muster. 

He did not hear him coming, even when his loud stomping could be heard from down the hallway, but that is mostly his fault because of his lack of attention and disoriented mind. It should be obvious with the dark bags under his eyes and tired expression that he hasn't been getting enough sleep and was most likely out of it because Brimstone regards him with solemnity.

“It’s Ice box, Yoru.” he mentions. The name of the place alone makes him perk up in attention. “Anomalies have taken place recently, coming from the lab holding onto the samurai's armor.”

What?

“We’ve tracked down a wave of radianite that was ignited on icebox, but we weren’t sure from where exactly.” Brimstone takes out his device, approaching him on the kitchen table and laying it out for him to see. “Cypher was able to narrow it down to A site only, and by the looks of it, we aren’t the only ones who are after it.”

“The omega?” he asks, uncertain. 

“They are approaching rapidly. We need to leave soon.”

That wakes him up, “I’ll be there in ten.”

Brimstone nods and takes his leave.

There is not much time before parting nor question who else was coming to Ice box with them. Not like it matters, but he rather have teammates that will work well alongside him for something as important as this.

Taking his jacket from his room and his butterfly knife, he wonders if the sudden anomaly on Ice box had anything to do with his restless nights for the past weeks.

An incognita were the nightmares that Yoru has had lately. It was never anything clear for him to guess or simply have a vague idea as to what it wanted, but with what Brimstone has told him, a lot of things cleared up. 

Not the whole picture, but it was something to start from.

At the launch site, he encounters Sage and Reyna talking in hushed voices. Both of them regard him with a silent nod and go back to the conversation, but Reyna's eyes never leave his form while he keeps on walking—and if looks could kill, he would be underground in an instant. Yoru does his best to ignore it until he can no longer feel her threatening aura sticking to the back of his neck, and once to a safe distance, he sighs in relief.

Brimstone is at the entrance of the jet carrying an operator, securely strapped to his back, and a few other weapons on the carriage. He seems to be talking to someone inside the vehicle already, handing out the guns and the operator, but can't figure out who.

“Step in, Yoru, we are getting ready.” The commander calls. “I'll coordinate with Sage and Reyna, and we take off.”

Nodding, he enters, but his whole serious façade is gone the moment his eyes land on yours.

Perhaps it had to do with time, or the light working in your favor, but the moment you lock eyes, you literally take his breath away with surprise painting his features. It almost seems like you were expecting him with the way you perk up in excitement as soon as you see him.

Smiling softly, you pat the seat next to yours, beckoning him to approach you. 

“I didn't know you were coming.” He comments, clearing up his throat. “Should've said something.”

“It was a last minute call.” Shrugging, he notices the strap of the operator in arm, but says nothing. “Brimstone was unsure whether to call you in or leave you out of this. But with how things were going, I decided it was for the best if you came and asked him to look for you.”

“Hah, missed me that much?” 

Yoru really never learns, huh. 

Is natural for him to want to tease you, so used to it that now, even after so long without speaking nor crossing words, he has the urge to interact with you this way.

“I did, Yoru.” You answer with honesty. The look in your eyes has him paralyzed, feeling his face flush with the short distance between you two. It reminisces the moment where you first kissed in the kitchen, and that only fuels his embarrassment because it could be so easy to lean in and kiss you again. “I-um, I missed you a lot.”

Brimstone stomps in the jet, raising a brow when he sees Yoru jump on his seat, startling him once again, and fixes his composure before the two of you look at him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, we’re just catching up.” Your hand covers his own hand laying on his lap, squeezing it with gentleness until your fingers intertwine. “Been a while.”

Brimstone nods, going to the cockpit without any further questions. Sage and Reyna follow up next, both of them regarding you two with a respective nod and taking a seat in front of you.

Cowardice isn't a term known by Yoru, scratching it up and dunking it on the trash since he is by no means a coward. But with how heavy Reyna's stare is, burning holes into your gentle but loving clasping hands, he is starting to get why some people are afraid. 

You distract him enough, though, speaking in a soft tone about what has been going on lately and the missions you haven't shared since Lotus—there is no mention of the situation you had when you first kissed, but he is soon to push it to the back of his mind to save you the trouble.

Surprisingly, he is able to maintain eye contact for longer than he expects without embarrassment clouding his senses, following up your peppy conversation with a few grunts and short replies.

Throughout the whole flight, your hand never leaves his.

x    x    x    x

Ice box is just as he remembers. 

Empty, freezing, but with a whole new wave of unknown power radiating from the old labs. 

Yoru gets why Brimstone was so unsure to bring him along. 

The pulsating beckoning of energy was nauseating and tiring; a migraine approaching fastly and making him lose his footing as soon as he steps off the jet.

Sage is there in an instant, clear worry across her features and helping him to stabilize himself. 

“Are you okay?” She asks. Her hands are glowing a soft blue, her healing abilities ready for him if need be. 

Yoru is close to dismissing her help, annoyed to be treated so delicately, but before he could muster a word, a spike of pain strikes his head, groaning in discomfort and his side hits the entrance of the landing. 

Leaving the operator on the floor, you run to where Yoru has fallen to the floor, and grasp him tightly by the shoulders to help him sit comfortably. 

Holding his head between his hands, he grunts, eyes tightly shut and breathing heavily through his nose. His head is pounding horribly, sounds he doesn't know where they were coming from was deafening him heavily that all your voices were melting together in the background. 

He sees the moment the sounds stop completely, mouths moving and actions on going but nothing else. Instead, a gruffing and heavy voice is what resonates inside his brain, like an echo, and a womanly voice accompanies it when they call to him.

‘Come’, they whisper, ‘Come to us.’

Your hand goes straight to his back, caressing him with soothing motions and whispers of gentle words. Respectfully, nothing you are doing helps with his pain nor confusion drowning him. It is kind of annoying, too, but Yoru likes you too much to say something of the sort and lets you do whatever you want.

‘Find him.’

And then it ceases completely. The sounds from his environment come back with a sudden burst he feels his ears sensible with the many voices trying to talk one above the other. Is overwhelming.

“We cannot continue with Yoru in this state.” Brimstone walks up to where Yoru is sitting, patting his back with a strong push. The japanese man holds back an insult at his action. “You’re staying. There is no time to go back and bring someone else to replace you, so stay here.”

“I can still fight-”

“No. And that’s an order.” He nods to Reyna and Sage to go on ahead. “Survey A site, I’ll take mid and we will strike as soon as I give the order.”

Sage glances at him from the corner of her eyes, worried, but complies with Brimstone's request. Reyna follows after her without regarding him at all but with a scoff, vandal at hand and the most graceful walking she could muster.

If Yoru wasn’t in so much pain, he would have laughed to mock her. He can have all the respect for Reyna and her tactical abilities, but to be this childish over whatever she was feeling was ridiculous in his eyes.

Brimstone calls you out, startling you, “Survey B site but don’t push. You’re gonna be alone so we can’t gamble losing a team member this easily, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Brimstone gives a brief glance at him before leaving you two alone.

Grunting, his fist hits the side of the floor, frustrated. The only time where he needs to be in the best shape is ruined by god knows what, that he doesn’t know who to blame it on.

“Yoru, is it okay if I speak this softly? Does it hurt you?” Your hand hovers over his fist, thumb running up and down his spiked knuckles. 

He breathes out harshly, nodding. 

“The enemy team has brought Yoru, too, and the chances of him suffering what you're going through are high.” Hand under his chin, he lets you raise his head gently to lock gazes. The pain subsides for a little bit, enough to have clarity and melt under the beautiful color of your eyes looking at him with so much emotion. “Don't worry about not coming, their Yoru might have to back off from this just like you, so there is no need to worry.”

Kissing the top of his head, you stand up and take your gun back. Reloading the ammo, you strap on the operator and send him a small smile before walking away.

“We'll figure out what happens after we're done, for now take a rest.”

The normality of your actions only furthers his want to go after you, seeing you walk away with a steady step. Nevermind the pain clouding his senses, he cannot help but worry for whatever might happen if you were to stay alone.

And it doesn’t have to do with him doubting your skills, but the inability to do something to help because of some dumb bullshit about the radianite and the armor still under vigilance in the labs.

The voices from before might have something to do with the anomalies, but he isn’t sure whether to trust his guts or just wait for some miracle to happen to figure it out. The headache won’t be going away anytime soon nor the pain racking his whole body, and he isn’t going to stay at the landside where there won’t be any action unfolding.

Standing up slowly, Yoru grunts in discomfort, losing his footing the first try but finding support on the wall the second time. 

He taps on the private line immediately, breathing a sigh of relief when you answer quickly to his call.

“Yoru, what’s wrong?” Your voice comes in rushed, a subtle undertone of worry honeying your words. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come back?”

“I-I’m okay. I need-”

Everything turns black for a second. The single second where all matters and nothing does at the same time.

The numbness on his limbs, the rush of memories, the excruciating pain destroying him from the inside; this all feels familiar and nostalgic, reviving the moment where his life changed and there was no turning back from the powers gifted to him.

‘Look for us', they plead. ‘Find him.'

The moment he blinks the sky greets him with a bright shine, blinding him for a moment and taking his time adjusting to it. Your face comes into view after a few seconds, a frown between your eyebrows and mouth set in a tight line. 

The light from above gives you a crown of light, glowing softly against your skin Yoru might have commented on it if it weren’t for his lucidity and catching his tongue on time.

When he breathes, he doesn’t feel any sort of pain. 

It almost feels like it never was there to begin with, which is surprising given the circumstances.

“Yoru?” Your voice quivers with anxiousness. 

“Hm.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in a weak attempt to appear cool. “M'fine, just…dizzy.”

“Here, sit.”

You manage to make Yoru sit without any trouble, looking for any signs of injury or distress from his pain early on, but find nothing to worry about. He seems fine, better than before, for sure.

The japanese man pushes you to the side gently, creating enough space for him to stand up and pat down his clothes to clear it from debris or snow sticking to the fabric. You are still watching him like a hawk in case he starts losing his footing, but Yoru scoffs, offended, and walks past where you're kneeling.

“Aren't you coming? We've got a mission to fulfill.” 

Flabbergasted, you blink up at him, mouth opening and closing without any words making it out. 

“Yoru,” you start gently, standing up. “Brimstone was very clear with his instructions. You have to stay here if you are unable to perform.”

“I look fine, don’t I? Let’s go.”

“Wh- Yoru, you couldn’t even stand minutes ago and now you’re acting all tough?” You point at the jet, “Go back. This whole act isn’t cool.”

The wind blows by strongly, ruffling his well kept hair, but no words of daring come from his mouth. Instead, he leans into the side, cocking his head and smirking at your attempt to be bossy.

“Who’s going to make me stay, you?” Giving a dry laugh, he crosses his arms. “Go on, try it, little minx.”

“Don’t make me start, Yoru, or else-”

“Or else what?”

You breathe in heavily, counting to ten inside your head to not snap at him nor disrespect him.

 “You have to follow what Brimstone has told you.” You retort, muttering through clenched teeths. “You stay here because I say so, too.”

“Oh yeah? And when has that stopped me?” 

Spluttering, your anger rises with the tone in your voice, “I have no fucking idea, so stop acting like a fucking brat and stay!”

Not wanting to give him a chance to reply, you turn around and stomp your way to B site just like Brimstone delegated. You hear Yoru walk right behind you, oblivious to your demand, and you cannot help the little vein protruding on your forehead with the anger consuming you.

“Fucking bitch.” You mutter under your breath. Walking backwards, you shout at him. “Is it that hard to listen to instructions?! What is your deal?”

“I can’t leave you alone.” is his reply, which infuriates you more. “I’m good. I will go with you.”

“Do you really not trust my own abilities? Weren’t you the one who said that you all should be more trusting of my skills when we went to Lotus?” Scoffing, you turn your back to him, climbing up the stairs to the kitchen. “Unbelievable, you are truly unbelievable and a hypocrite.”

“It has nothing to do with your ability or not. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Hah! Sure, as if that were all.”

“Would you even stop for a second if I were to say anything else?” Rolling his eyes, he continues. “You cannot even trust me when I tell you I’m fine and now you want me to follow your rules?”

Not even looking at him, you reply, “Yeah! That would be nice!”

“Stop for a second damnit! Listen to me!”

You don’t. You cross the threshold of the kitchen and he runs up to you like a little kid about to throw a tantrum. Taking your hand into his, he tries to make you stop and look at him, but you snatch it away immediately.

“I love you.” he blurts out.

That is enough to stop you dead in your tracks, not giving him a glance nor reply to his words. Yoru feels his face burn with embarrassment but is determined to let his feelings be known after so long. Whether you reciprocate or not, is all up to you. Whether this is the correct place to be outing his feelings, he is not sure.

The contrast of the cold brushing his warm cheeks in gentle breezes sends a shiver down his spine, blaming the weather for the wavering puffs of air coming out of his mouth and not because of the sudden nervousness eating him from the inside. 

After a long minute, that almost feels like many years in his opinion, you resume your walking with him tailing behind you. Yoru wonders if you’ve heard him correctly or perhaps you misunderstood his words. 

“I said I love y-”

“I know.” you interrupt, gaze set straight in front of you. “Gekko told me so but I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t until we kissed that night that I realized I was pretty dumb for not noticing your feelings.”

Yoru would think this was some sort of rejection, not really understanding if you were reprimanding him for kissing you or telling you he loves you when you already know. But looking closely, he sees the tip of your ears redden with each step, refusing to meet him in the eye.

“You should go back to the jet. Brimstone is going to be mad at us.”

“I don't care.”

“Well, you should! I ain't taking responsibility if something happens to you.” 

“I don't need protection nor for you to take responsibility. I'm here right now because you need to know that I love you and I won’t be leaving you alone.”

“Okay! I get it!”

Smirking slightly, he jogs to your side and bumps shoulders with you. You shot him a dirty look, pouting when he finally sees the red on your cheeks is not because of the cold but from his words.

“What about you?” he dares ask.

“What about me?” you echo, annoyed.

Yeah, what about you? Was he expecting to hear the same words of professing love from you? He just wanted to get rid of these thoughts cluttering his brain and distracting him, to be free, in some sort of way. Yoru hopes he didn’t make you uncomfortable with his sudden confession.

Humming, you give him a side glance and a grin, “You sure are very confident for someone who doesn't know what the other feels.” Bumping his shoulder back, you walk ahead of him. “I love you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

You love him.

Having you say those words sparks some sort of hope he buried deep within his heart, digging them back to surface. His face is lit in flames within seconds, and he tries to hide it behind a raised hand and looks the other way to avoid you seeing it.

Is clear he does a poor job trying to conceal his embarrassment and excitement because as soon as you get a glimpse of his face, you laugh brightly, poning his side to mock him. That only worsens his state, face hot and red as a pepper.

Once you two are deep in the kitchen, you take a bold decision.

Pushing Yoru against the halls, your hand tangles behind his head, pulling on his roots and clashing your mouths together on a bruising kiss. Is obvious he wasn’t expecting this kind of action from you because he groans loudly, leaning into the hand pulling at his hair harshly and melting under your liplock with a sigh.

He doesn’t take long to hold onto your waist and turn the tables, caging you against the wall this time and giving you the same treatment of roughness by holding you behind your neck and his left hand grabbing you by the waist, slotting your hips together. 

Is a little uncomfortable being in this position because the operator is still strapped to your back, but Yoru makes it work with bending you to his body and making you forget about the gun when he takes your chin between his fingers and makes some distance. 

Whining, you close the gap once again, not giving him time to take a breath and sticking your tongue inside his mouth to maintain contact. 

He consumes your fire from within like a starved man, sucking on your lower lip and biting it as gently as his hands paws over your whole form, basking in the feeling of your mouths clasped together and the tight hold you have on his hair every time his hands travel to to your backside.

You pull on his hair harshly when his left hand grabs a fistful of your ass and he groans, trying to make distance to breathe in some air, but you gasp loudly when his lips attach to your neck immediately, nibbling on the skin and sucking desperately to mark your skin.

“We need to survey B site, Yoru, let go.” You moan at one particular bite, sighing when his hands try to go under your clothes. You smack his hands away, flustered and a little bit angry. “God dammit, Ryo, not now.”

“Says the one who started this, little minx.” he teases, licking up a strip of saliva from your collarbone to your neck.

Huffing, you push him off of you, resuming your walking with the little dignity you still hold and cleaning the spit in the corner of your mouth. Yoru prides himself in seeing you this disheveled over him, imagining what else could he do if you let him be.

Gotta calm down, now. He doesn’t want to deal with the bad guys with a hard-on now, does he?

“So?” he asks. You blink up at him. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Feelings are difficult, I guess.” Shrugging, you strap off your operator. “I understand why the fraternization rule was made, it only gets in the way of our job. That’s why Gekko and I never worked.”

“Does it, now?”

Brimstone is saying something through the comms, but neither of you pay him any mind. Yoru nudges your side with his arm, and you cannot escape the small smile tugging at your lips.

“We can talk about ourselves later.” is all you say before setting off. “We have all the time in the world, Ryo.”

Smiling, he straps off his Sheriff. 

He likes the way you say his name.

“Whatever, you idiot.”

x    x    x    x

Yoru doesn't want to admit that he was weak throughout the fight. 

Not because of his abilities nor aim—he would fight whoever thinks he whiffs his shots— but because he let the enemies run away in one piece when he had the chance of eliminating them for good.

The excuse of running out of bullets was believable, having only a sheriff and a few reloads while defending the site, and you backing up his report helped a lot. Besides, Brimstone was more focused on his disobedience in a clear order than letting go of the omega agents, so he supposes that was enough of a distraction.

The intel was right, omega Yoru was here, alongside your omega version. It seems like they were set off to lurk while the rest of the team attacked A site and they were to wrap around your base to corner you all. 

It backfired immediately.

Your aim was impeccable, as always. He didn't know you were proficient with the operator but it was no joke when you had the gun in hand and targets to shoot. 

But, in truth, he is tempted to think you let them go, too, because they were injured enough but not dead by the bullets that were fired. 

Your omega version stood in front of omega Yoru, protecting him from the bullets that weren’t coming through anymore. Both of them were bleeding and with wounds that could probably kill them if it were not to be treated correctly and on time.

“Please,” your omega version begs. They have a shorty, only, discarding it to the side to mean no harm. “Take me if you want, but don't touch him.”

Yoru's eyes travels from you to omega Yoru, who is panting harshly behind the other you. The omega snarls, furious, to be witnessed by his mirror to this weak state.

He knows himself, knows the other must feel pathetic and frustrated for not doing more and failing so miserably on this mission. The pride is high and wild, so who better than himself to understand the situation at hand.

Yoru loads his last bullet to the sheriff, and you shrivel up in panic. Your stance hasn't changed, your tattered body still shielding omega Yoru despite the pain and that is something he respects. 

“Should I shoot?” your voice comes from the comms. He knows you're still aiming and watching in silence whatever is unfolding on site, but you don't interfere further than to ask that question. 

“I have it under control.” Is all he answers.

A bullet is shot, and your omega version gasps in unison with omega Yoru when they see the bullet go a few centimeters off the side, not even gracing them.

“What-?”

“Leave.” Yoru straps on his sherriff, taking out his butterfly knife instead to play with it while he waits in silence. When neither of you react, he raises a brow. “Want me to carry you to your own base or what? Leave now before Brimstone comes, he won't be merciful.”

That was their cue to start moving.

You try to carry omega Yoru as best as you could, having his arm around your shoulders and your hand holding onto his jeans for leverage. Giving him a brief glance, you thank him quietly before starting to walk away with urgency.

“Wait.” Omega Yoru tries to turn around, glaring at his alpha version. “It's because of her, isn't it? Is it the same for you?”

You nudge him, eyes pleading for him to keep walking,“Yoru, stop.”

“No. I want to know why.” His mirror grunts in pain, almost colliding against the wall if it weren't for your hold. “I know me. And I know I would have shot if it weren't because of her. So I need to know if it's the same for you.”

Yoru decides to not answer, since everything is already laid out for them. He knows you are listening through the comms, so whatever his answer is, you should've known by now.

“So it is.” he mutters, giving a dry laugh. “This is going to be the death of us one day.”

“Love, let’s go.” Your mirror mutters. He nods, and they take off.

“Ice box is fucking cursed, Yoru.” The other says. “The voices are torturing, trying to be helpful, but this place is cursed for us.”

You never said anything, watching the duo walk away as best as they could with the sun setting in the background. 

The trail of blood they leave behind is the only clue that a battle has unfolded and they were once again victorious, although it felt nothing like a victory to him.

The words from omega Yoru would stay with him, storing the information for future investigation, and haunting him until his next confrontation takes place. 

“I think you did good.” Eating a slice of the apple, you glance briefly at him, interrupting his thoughts. “Letting them go, I mean. I think it was good.”

He scoffs, “I was weak. A mistake I won’t be making again if we encounter them in the future.” 

Shaking your head, you lean your head to the side, “You had mercy on them. I think this is a step that was necessary to take to change the dynamic we’re living in.”

Blinking down at you, he raises a brow, “What do you mean by that?”

Your fingers tap the table in a rhythmic motion, mulling over his question for a moment before replying, “I don’t think it is necessary to be killing them, despite having done so already many times before.” Shrugging, you take another slice. “Call me naive or just a hopeless romantic, but what they had is something I respect a lot. They are humans, too, not just some kind of experimentation we can look over. They…they might have an explanation for the radianite and their need.”

Yoru rolls his eyes with skepticism, crossing his arms with disappointment in his eyes. 

“This is my way of thinking.” You defend. “You can have yours, but we both know that nothing might change unless we are the one’s meddling in the battlefield.”

“You’re willing to risk it all to prove that an amicable relationship can be doable?”

Humming, you nod, “I do.”

“You’re dumb, then.”

“Maybe, but only time will tell if I’m right.”

“Suit yourself.”

Both of you fall in silence, eating from the plate the few slices of apple that are left. Only the buzzing from the refrigerator makes a background noise to cover up the long and suffocating topic that none of you want to touch now. 

Yoru is nervous, you are nervous, but you are too cowardly to take the first step.

Mission aside, what happened at ice box when you kissed again was supposed to be the bridge to start a conversation about what would entail knowing each other’s feelings. One would believe that something might have happened by now, but here you are.

In silence.

“I think I’ll take my leave.” He coughs awkwardly, standing from the chair. “Goodnight.”

It was almost like a mirror situation many weeks ago. Where he leaves and you are left confused, wanting, and you cannot bear the thought of dealing this by yourself again.

When he bids you goodbye, you unconsciously reach for his hand, immediately stopping him from going further and he looks back at you. 

When none of you say anything, you brave yourself through your nervousness to break the distance and take his face with your free hand, caressing his cheek with tenderness. 

Yoru lets you do whatever you want, anxiousness seeping out of him when you tiptoe to reach him and, in an act to fulfill your impulses, you kiss the corner of his mouth with a gentle touch.

The japanese man stifles at the contact, gasping when your lips travel from a mere graze, to groaning when your mouth captures him in a passionate kiss, lips melting together sweetly like honeycomb.

You hold him like you desire to be devoured completely; reaching, grabbing and tugging everywhere until his body engulfs yours against the counter of the kitchen and you hold onto his shoulders for leverage. His hands rise goosebumps under your clothes, big palms caressing the skin on your back, racking down his nails until he feels your shudder. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if this was wrong of you to do. If Gekko would mind you chasing after what you really want despite having failed him miserably while together. 

Gekko is none the wiser, your brain supplies, and you hope it stays that way. 

You tug playfully at his lower lip with your teeth before diving to get more of him, mouths slotting together on a more profound kiss and tongues fighting to claim dominance. It is then that any rational thought goes out of the window.

His hand finds purchase on your hips, yours tugs at his hair, earning a groan from him which you immediately swallow with greed. Yoru has half the mind to think about what he's doing when his hand brushes your thighs and pulls you up until you're seated on the counter. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, breathless. 

Yoru's mouth kisses every inch of skin to his availability, sucking on your neck with want until you have your head thrown back, enticing him to mark every part of you. 

“We should stop.” He begs, but his actions betray his words when he rolls his hips against your core, cock twitching inside his pants. You whisper his name, returning the favor and caging him between your legs. 

You can feel his erection even through all the clothing between your bodies, lust clouding your mind with nothing but the good sensations despite feeling guilt gnaw at the pit of your stomach.

That does not deter you from purchasing the euphoria coursing through your body when you rock your hips again, his clothed cock rubbing deliciously against you till the point your words get slurred.

This is not the right place for this kind of situation to be unfolding. You both are too exposed for anyone to walk into, and the least he wants is to show the other agents the boner he is sporting right now. Besides, he is sure to go feral with anger if anyone dares to see you this disheveled and flustered. 

This sight is for him alone.

Claiming his mouth, your hand let go of his hair to reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. Yoru freezes when your hand goes into his trousers to grab at his dick shamelessly, thumb running over the head of his cock. Gasping, he hides his blushing face in the crook of your neck, hips thrusting in tandem to your slow pumps to rile him up. 

“You feel so hot.” you whisper in his ear. He bites your neck and sucks on the skin to have his mouth occupied. “You are so hard, love.”

He gasps when you twist your wrist and your thumb runs over the head of his cock again, spreading the pre-cum and messily using it as a lube to pump your hand faster on his shaft. You feel him twitch in your hand when you accelerate the pace and tremble when his warm breath hits your cheek in gasps. 

“Faster…” he mutters, groaning. The timbre of his voice lowers a few octaves, and it's of immediate urgency to keep listening to more. “Shit, go faster.”

You indulge in his request, hand moving to a faster pace, and feeling the veins protruding on his cock between your fingers. Your mouth glues to his neck, nibbling it softly and biting down, hard, until a mark is visible against his pale skin. 

The schlik-schlik sounds in the background are filthy to the ears, Yoru feels his face flush up with embarrassment to have been reduced to a puddle of lust and trembling legs from the overwhelming sensations.

Pushing him away, Yoru groans in frustration because he was close to being ripped to the seams with the upcoming orgasm. The momentum is gone, and he is not sure whether to be angry at you or beg you to please keep going.

But by the time he decides what to do, you’re already on your knees, pulling down his pants until his member is freed from its confines and your mouth sucks on his cock with an invigorated enthusiasm that has him grasping the counter for leverage.

His right hand goes to the roots of your hair, pulling and pushing your head in tandem with the thrusting of his hips. Yoru abuses your mouth to his liking, chasing after the little fire burning him on his lower abdomen and to let loose. 

Groaning, his eyes roll to the back of his head when your tongue comes into play, licking the underside of his dick with each stroke of your mouth. Yoru leaves your head to hold his weight with both of his hands onto the counter, knees weak and breath taken away.

You use your hand to keep the stimulation going, giving you time to catch some air and glare at him from down there. Despite having his face flushed, sweat rolling down his temple and trembling under your touch, he dares smirk at you, as if he has gotten away with something he’s been wanting to do for a long time.

“You fucking brat.” you whisper, mouth latching onto the side of his cock and your free hand toying with his balls.

Yoru whimpers, he fucking whimpers, the moment your mouth sucks on the head of his dick and your hands wrap around the rest of his member with fast strokes, bobbing your head up and down, and timing it with his weak thrusts, you hum, vibrations running up his cock deliciously.

You try to close your legs while kneeling, trying to get some friction to alleviate the pressure on your lower belly and the need to touch yourself; but you are prioritizing Yoru’s pleasure above else right now, enjoying his salty taste in your mouth and gulping down the pre-cum gathering with your spit.

“Fuck!” he curses. His hips stutter wildly, head thrown back and eyes closed when the sudden rush of euphoria courses through his body. 

Yoru cums inside your mouth moaning your name and gasping for air.

He holds your head with a tight grip, spurting his seed inside your mouth in big spurts until you have no other option but to swallow it, choking on his cock when the tip hits the back of your throat. 

Yoru rides his orgasm as if his life depended on it, breathless and hitting a high point where his noises couldn’t be contained. 

Backing off, Yoru slides down next to you, breathing heavily and slumping against your form in defeat and burrowing his head on your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Is funny how he seeks physical contact like a little cat, voiceless and going for it.

You’re coughing up harshly, part of his cum still drooling to the side of your lips.

“You owe me one.” You say, knocking your heads together. 

He only hums, satisfaction oozing out of him, and cleans the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“You can cash in right now, baby girl.”

Trembling, you look to the side, bashful, “Don’t get all flirty with me now.” Giving him a brief glance, you blush when you see his dick still out of his pants and butt naked against the floor. “You fucking idiot, put on your pants!”

Yoru laughs softly, nuzzling your neck and kissing the pulse with gentleness. You can’t help but sigh at his change in demeanor.

“I’ll do so if you promise to come to my room with me.” his lips caress the shell of your ear, kissing it. You give a surprised giggle at that. “Hm, what do you say?”

x    x    x    x

The moment your back hits the bed, Yoru is taking your pants away, pulling them with carefulness but urgency in his actions until you are bare from the waist down. He messily takes your shoes, too, and you save half the work by unbuttoning your shirt and unclasping your brassier so you can be bare for him.

Yoru is grunting, snarling almost like an animal, when he pounces on you and his lip attaches to your neck with ferociousness, biting and sucking harshly on the skin till it reddens. He makes room between your legs, your glistering folds rubbing against his jeans while he cages you against the bed and devours you with hunger.

Your hand tugs at his hair, finding out that he seems to like the rough treatment as much as you do, and your legs closes around his waist, grinding against him in search of some friction to alleviate yourself.

His right hand palms over your breast, fingertips running over your nipples while his mouth makes way to your other breast, sucking in with the same fervor he did with your marked neck. Biting softly on your nipple, his tongue flattens against your skin, licking it up and sucking until you curve your back, shrieking from the sudden action.

“Again-!” You plead, hips stuttering, and hands holding onto the sheets by your head. “Again, Ryo, please.”

He does as you say. Mouth sucking on your breast while his hand toys with your nipple. The left hand that was holding onto your waist goes straight to your core, fingers pressing against the outer lips but not entering, teasing you with gentle strokes, pads running softly over your clit but is not enough.

You need more.

“Ryo, I swear to fucking god if you don’t put that mouth to work I’m going to kill you.” Grabbing him by his hair, you pull, hard, and the motherfucker has the nerve to give you a cheeky grin, licking his lips. 

“You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Yoru moves out of the way until he is sitting on the floor right next to the bed, and with a strong pull, he takes your legs to rest above his shoulder and hands hold you by the waist tightly.

Before you could utter a word, nervous, he dives into your pussy, licking up a stripe with harshness that has you trembling under his touch. You moan his name shamelessly, gasping for air when he sucks on your little nub of nerves and his fingers prod on your entrance.

Coated in your juices, two of his fingers slide in easily, pumping them in and out slowly, and dragging his pads against your walls and timing it with his sucks. Being pressed between your legs and eating you out has to be one of the best things in the world, and he cannot begin to describe how aroused and hard you’re making him with your taste and moans coming from your mouth.

Your hands tangle in his hair, swapping between pulling at his roots or pushing his head to drown in your folds. Your hips are moving against his mouth erratically, riding in the feeling of his fingers and tongue on your pussy, wearing you down with each stroke of his appendage.

“Ryo, Ryo- Ah!” Head thrown back, you gasp when his fingers leave your hole to replace it with his mouth, tongue abusing your entrance rapidly and fingers going to your clitoris to rub them in tandem.

Stars were starting to cloud your vision, feeling the tight knot on your belly so close to snapping you can feel the orgasm tethering on the brim. Your hands travel to your chest, touching yourself with eagerness while being watched by your lover. You can almost feel his smile against your pussy, enjoying the show, which only riles you up.

But before you could combust and cum all over his face, Ryo makes distance, pushing you away but not before giving a last lick to your outer lips, legs trembling on each side of his face, that he smirks up at you.

“We haven’t finished yet, little minx.”

Furious for being denied of your climax, you punch him in the chest, “Fucking shit, Ryo! I was so fucking close-”

“Shhh,” he silences you, kissing your mouth with your taste on his tongue. He looks disheveled, raw, it makes you drip with want. His hands hovers over your perky nipples, flicking them with a devious smile playing on his lips. “It only gets better now.”

He strips down easily, throwing his jacket to the side of the bed while taking his shoes off. Pulling down his pants, you see his cock fully erect and bouncing slightly against his abs, flushed red with the tip smeared with his pre-cum. 

He pumps his cock a few times, pushing you against the mattress and devouring the sight as if you were a meal.

His chest is pressed against yours, leaning down to gently lay his lips to yours, and holding his weight with both of his arms on either side of your head. Yoru doesn't notice your tiny hand making its way to his cock, too concentrated on your lips and the hand pulling on his hair.

Guiding his dripping cock to your entrance, you open your legs to accommodate him easily and, with the help of your legs, you push him inside.

The head of his member breaches your entrance, a shiver runs down your spine when he bullies his way inside you slowly, walls clamping down on him and pulsating with lust running down your veins. 

Yoru groans in unison with you when he's fully in, your legs holding him in place to make the feeling of being connected this deeply last longer.

Touching your face, Yoru rests his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling in soft pants. Cupping his face, your thumbs run down his cheekbones, looking deeply into his eyes before kissing his lips in a soft peck.

“I love you,” You whisper, eyes clouded with love and affection. Smiling, he kisses your cheek.

Yoru slowly distances himself, pulling his hips away until the tip of his member is the only thing still in contact with your vagina, before thrusting hard into you. The sound of skin against skin is deafening, dirty and exciting for both who are enjoying this act of love, jolting with waves of .

His hips continue to move in a slow but steady rhythm, causing your begs and moans to rush out of your mouth hurriedly. Yoru is nothing but giving, accelerating the pace to your liking and watching in amusement the change in expression on your face.

Shouting his name, Yoru can't take it anymore. The speed increases, pelvis against pelvis, sweat rolling down your chest and seeing your breasts bounce with each thrust into your cunt only makes him lose control.

Nevermind the soft and calm Yoru from before, the moment your moans got to him is when he finally lets loose his mouth.

“You like that, huh? You fucking slut.” Grunting, he raises your legs to rest on his shoulders and bends you over in half. You can’t help but whine in embarrassment because of this position and the words uttered by him. “I bet Gekko didn't fuck you like this, right? I bet he doesn't even know how to please a woman.” 

Your walls clench painfully around his cock at his words. Yoru's eyes roll to the back of his head when your entrance gets tighter, sucking him in. With one of his hands, he starts masturbating you with fast flicks of his wrist, timing it with his thrusts rapidly. 

“Does he even know how good you taste? Or how filthy you are, sucking cock like a desperate whore?” Licking up your neck, he whispers in your ear, “Imagine if he were to see you like this, being fucked by me and cumming around my cock.”

“Ryo, I'm so close, please, so close!” You gasp, feeling your climax approach rapidly with how good Ryo is drilling into you.

“I'm going to fill that pussy of yours with my cum so everyone will know you belong to me.” he warns, a wicked smile tugging on his lips. “I'm going to mark every inch of your body as mine, understood? You’re going to be a good girl and take it all.”

Nodding, your hands hold onto his back, nails running down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, “Your good girl, yes-”

Yoru grunts heavily, loading his cum inside of you and fucking his seed deep inside with weak thrusts, riding his orgasm with closed eyes and mouthing your neck with lovebites. You follow soon after, the stimulation of his cock pushing in his cum and his fingers pressing against your clit is enough to send you over the edge and finally break, moaning his name and hips stuttering with the waves of the climax.

Slumping on top of you, he breathes heavily, trying to get in some air and enjoying the post-orgasmic experience with your hands brushing the hair out of his face gently.

You kiss the top of his head, smooching your way down until all you can reach is his forehead. He hums, raising his eyes and locking gazes silently.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Sticking your tongue out, you pinch on the bare skin of his shoulder, making him jolt in surprise and glare at you with a pout. 

Yoru hovers over your body, resting his body weight on his arms and gives you a peck on the lips before standing up and going to the adjacent bathroom to bring a wet towel. Rolling to your stomach, you cross your arms under your head and watch him walk around freely and naked, admiring the view immensely.

His muscles ripple when he bends over to reach for the towel, watching his back with the mark of your nail alongside scars from past battles. You’ve never noticed, but Yoru with his hair down was a whole nother person to see, giving his sharp features a softer look with his hair framing his eyes and a boyish look that has you melting on the inside.

When he sees you ogling him shamelessly, he can’t help the flush on his cheeks and shyness for being this vulnerable in front of you. He throws the towel to your head to distract himself; that body of yours is enticing in every way possible, and he doesn’t want to look too eager to keep going.

“You’re a degenerate, clean yourself up.”

Laughing, you take the towel and lay down between his pillows to clean between your legs carefully. “Says the pervert who called me, what was it? A whore for your cock? A slut? Your words were colorful there, Ryo.”

Yoru grunts, sitting next to you on bed and stealing the towel from your hands. He makes you scoot closer and starts scooping out the cum oozing from your vagina with gentleness and avoiding it touching his sheets. 

The pressure he applies is enough to spark a new wave of heat on your lower abdomen, biting your lower lip to refrain from sighing out loud when the fabric stimulates you.

His fingers clean the remaining of both of your cum with a gentle brush, fingers caressing around your clit softly and watching your flustered expression focus on what his hands are doing.

Wanting to tease you, he applies pressure on the little nub, making circular motions to heighten the tension and sees you throw your head back. You whine, hips raising to seek the touch desperately. Moving your hand on top of his, you guide his movements from up and down, making his thumb tease your hole and your hips roll against both of your hands.

“Someone wants more of this pervert.” He mutters.

“Ryo…”

Kissing your legs, he licks his lips, discarding the towel to the side and making his way to your core slowly.

“Here comes round two, love.”