#so well paced and every thread means something and you never have to worry if something important will randomly be dropped
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teiasviago · 10 months ago
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subjected the parents to some of my mlim episode ideas hehe
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thrandilf · 6 months ago
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Episodic, Serialized, Mixing the Two, and "Filler"
Been dwelling on what I personally find effective in media and what's been grinding my gears about when things flatline for me and I'd rather sit down and write about it than continue to pace while doing the Italian finger pinch thing
First off, filler is technically about when an anime goes beyond what a manga has completed and because they got ahead, they started to just screw around while waiting for more manga, so while I acknowledge that origin of the phrase, the way people often use filler now is for episodes disconnected from the main plot
And a lot of people miss "filler"/what they mean is more chill or self contained episodes, and while the concept of them doesn't usually appeal to me for pacing reasons, there's a way to do it well that I wish more shows did
So, my bias/preference is fully serialized shows which is usually harder to find in western animation, The Dragon Prince being one of the few I've ever found that's never had a full episode of Nothing because there's always an overarching plot and tension to be found. There are "filler" moments where characters on their journey have some downtime which is used for bonding and/or world-building, but they don't dedicate whole episodes to it to break the pacing, which I appreciate. However, most shows don't do this
On the other far end of the spectrum you have something fully episodic and formulaic like Phineas and Ferb where every episode is its own thing with occasional callbacks to other episodes, but it is a sort of watch in any order whenever show and I find that this actually works for me as well- when it's the expectation from the start
Some shows go for a mix of the two, and usually that's where I get tripped up.
They're shows that I like/think are Good beyond a doubt, but to give examples, Gravity Falls and RotTMNT both start off with an episode that gives you a concept of an overarching plot, a mystery to solve or otherwise a big bad, respectively. Now, I understand that a lot of shows are still under the parameters of needing to be able to be viewed in any order by people tuning in on tv (although with streaming I think this is falling by the wayside/writing this way no longer makes sense to me) but it does make sitting down to watch them a tad infuriating, because then you're waiting for a continuation of this main plot you're hooked on, but a lot of the episodes you watch right afterwards don't fundamentally matter.
Sometimes they matter- a standalone episode with character development or a new piece of information is nice, but sometimes even that isn't there, and why it gets to me while PnF doesn't is just the initial expectation set that we're going somewhere and then totally dropping the plotline or a sense of progress for awhile. In GF we get hints as time goes on/other people have numbered books, but you have to dial back your expectations/adjust to just enjoying the day to day adventures (which are enjoyable!) and shelve the main plot. PnF never led me to suspect there was a bigger picture plot to worry about, so it doesn't hang over me/leave me unsatisfied. It does what it set out to do
However, a mix of the two can work
AtLA is good at the episodic bits still mattering, but beyond that I'd argue Lego Monkie Kid is the best at it. Although the show is almost exclusively episodic in season 1, more mixed in season 2, and then gets to be pretty much all serialized in 3 and 4, season 1 managed to be episodic while still holding my attention.
No LMK episode is a "skip" from me due to even the self contained monster of the week episodes still revealing new information such as more of MK's powers so there's a sense of progress, giving character info, introducing new characters, and/or new lore.
Most importantly, the lore and character details we get matter- 1x03 is the only time we see Mei's parents, but her relationship with her family is an ongoing thread through the rest of the show. 1x05 was a goldmine of characterization and how people in MK's life don't act, with the concept of a "perfect world" being something we touch on in the s3 climax. 1x06 introduced the peaches of immortality. 1x07 hits on a character flaw MK doesn't get over in just one episode, 1x09 is arguably the most important episode in all of S1 due to introducing Macaque and giving us a lot more information about the depth's of Wukong's past, which raises questions the show then delivers on later.
It all establishes something relevant to enhance later episodes
And all in the background, right from 1x01, we get hints of other intrigue developing as the Demon Bull Family finds LBD's prison and plans to spring her
Season 2 is especially effective with still coming off as rather episodic but the heroes spend the entire season unknowingly losing while LBD and SQ gather materials, and we also have whatever Wukong is up to piquing our interest. The tension only grows even if almost every S2 episode is self contained. 2x04 doesn't involve the main villains, but it does set up Pigsy and MK's relationship more as well as how important Pigsy's sense of family and tradition is, which again comes back later in S4
A lot of effective, seemingly off topic "filler" winds up not being filler at all, but was working to build something later. Sometimes, a show is better on a rewatch for reasons like that,
but when it feels like the ball is dropped and relationships weren't enhanced or we didn't learn anything from it, or characters acted like there may be consequences for something and then nothing happened nor was it acknowledged and now we're moving on forever, it's like well, what was the point of that then?
This is all to say that episodic storytelling can really work, and I get frustrated when we don't tap back into a main plot even for a few seconds or there wasn't anything new. The fun beach episode can still give me character development or even pan back to the villains at the end to give me the sense that something's coming to keep tension up (I'm not far in it, but Amphibia seems to have a good sense of this too where I have a lot of questions and I gradually get answers/hints that answers are coming as well as character flaws/developments being established)
TLDR:
The questions an audience are meant to be asking should be answered at some point, and even though they should be paced out and given time, when it feels like a show forgot about them entirely before making a sharp swerve back (or worse, never addressing the threads it introduced), it can make people feel like there was no point in paying attention.
Episodic shows that want to tie into a larger plot can still work by keeping a background sense of tension and building in new information, which I wish was done more often instead of being majorly episodic Or serialized, where only a few episodes in a show fully tie together which makes the shift from episode 1 plot, nothing, and then OH GOD FINALE PLOT really jarring to me
I also bring this up because as a writer, it's what I try to keep in the back of my mind for my own writing, and seeing what does and doesn't work for me and why is helpful
Also yes, this is a Monkie Kid endorsement ty for coming
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memphisnovels · 1 year ago
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Evermore
Chapter 3. Right down the line
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Masterlist
Previous chapters: 1, 2
Chapter 3 is here you know what that means - Chapter 4 is Pietro time!
This chapter is more of a Chapter 2 Part 2 where we get a better look at Nadia and Anna’s friendship as well as her introduction to the Avengers [If you are chomping at the bit to get to Pietro you can skip this part, but it definitely adds to Nadia’s lore and there’s some soft Nat content]
pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC
warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, flashbacks to Nadia and Natasha's past, some platonic fluff
“My love?” Her voice was groggy when the line connected prompting me to check the time on my watch.
“You were sleeping, I’m sorry it’s 10pm here so it’s…”
“3am here.” She laughed. “You never have to apologize for giving me a ring, hearing your voice is worth a little lost sleep.”
I’ve lived here for four years; you’d think I’d be used to the time difference by now. It was still strange to me, living so far from Anna. It was not a simple task to describe what she meant to me. As it turns out, she was not a liar, she did stick by me, Abeni did help me release the red and it was the most terrifying experience of my life. There were weeks when I felt nothing but terror so pungent my body stopped functioning, there was agony for months, I lived inside my mind, within those four red walls, until I didn’t. It was not all at once, a single treatment and I was normal, I’d known nothing but Dreykov and the red room from the age of five, it did not leave so easily; it clung to the very essence of my being and still sometimes I blink and for a moment all I see is red. It stuck with me, every moment of it, I live it and I carry it every day. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be completely free of it, but I am sure, with not a single shred of doubt, that Anna saved me.
When I sit with it late at night it is no longer Dreykov’s voice which rings in my ears but Anna’s. It is her telling me I am not alone, that the rage is there but it is not a hindrance, it is powerful, and it is mine.
“I just finished an assignment.”
She hummed. “The arsehole who embezzled foreign aid money?”
“The very same.”
“Top job, Nards.” I was silent then as I picked at a stray thread on the coat I wore. “What is it?”
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. “It… He… Fury wants me to join his stupid initiative.”
“I heard about that, he’s got some fancy name for it and everything. He’s asked you before, no? There’s something more that’s upsetting you.”
I nodded even though she could not see me. It was uncanny to me to have someone who knew me so well, someone who could almost read me when not a single other soul had ever been able to, well save for one other person, the one I still dreamed of every night. “He told me who was on board, I already knew about Tony Stark, the Captain, Banner and I’d heard rumors about Clint but then he said someone else.” She was silent on the other end, the thing about knowing someone as well as she’d come to know me, is that it’s a two-way street. “You knew.”
“Natasha Romanoff? I suspected.”
“But you didn’t think to share your suspicions?”
She sighed and I heard shuffling on her end, she’d gotten out of bed evidently. “I’m so sorry, Nadia, I didn’t want to keep it from you, but Fury said he wanted to be sure about her joining the team before anything was discussed with other agents.”
“Other agents? Anna, I am not some faceless S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, we don’t keep things from each other.”
“I know that… I know, I hate that I let you be blindsided, I’m sorry but I didn’t want to interfere in all the bureaucratic bullshit. I just wanted to let things be set in stone before I even worried you with any of it.”
I shook my head, beginning to pace the floor of my little studio apartment. “ерунда” Bullshit. “You lied to me!”
“I did not lie, Nadia, I withheld information. It was wrong, I know that I said I’m sor-”
“No, stop, stop apologizing, you never do anything you don’t want to do. Don’t use your semantics shit on me, I’m not your subordinate, we are family, that’s what you said right?”
My stomach was churning, heart thrumming against my sternum. I slide down the wall, clutching at the roots of my hair. “We are family, Nadia.”
“No! You are just like them. That bureaucratic shit, that’s you, Anna!” I was being facetious; I knew that, and I hated it, but I couldn’t stop. It was like there was white-hot venom pumping through my veins where my blood used to be. “We are not family, if we were family, you would not keep something like this from me.”
“Nadia I-”
I cut her off. “Fuck you, Anna.” Hanging up abruptly and throwing my phone across the room.
She called back, repeatedly. I chose to throw myself back into work rather than answer her calls.
Two weeks passed, I completed a new assignment and avoided Fury’s incessant encouragements about me joining the Avengers initiative. When Anna stopped calling, I was initially worried, it wasn’t like her to give up so easily, but then I remembered that she’d told me she’d be away on a weeklong covert assignment. It wasn’t normal for us to go this long without speaking, though I was certainly not going to pick up the phone, not after what she had done. When two weeks turned into three, I wondered if I was even still angry at her, or if I was just being vindictive at this point. I’ve been told I have, rage issues… to put it lightly. On occasion, more frequently than I’d like to admit, I would become so completely encapsulated in my fury that there was no reason in the world that appealed to me. It was as though, suddenly, everything would become so dark and infuriating that not even the brightest light could get through to me. I’d had therapists before, they weren’t particularly effective, not when I didn’t trust anyone enough to explain how that blinding rage which simmered away within me had come to be. Anna and Fury had nudged me to continue attending but I’d found sitting in those luxurious offices whilst having a perfectly polished individual poke and prod at my brain to be more grating than any other endeavor. However, if I wanted to remain in Fury’s good graces, and more importantly in his employ I had to seek some kind of aid to my particular inflictions.
“I was 16 when it happened. I didn’t sleep properly for months afterward, every night I would just lie in bed and picture his face, the blood, I couldn’t focus on school nothing really seemed to matter to me anymore. It was like this huge gray cloud had been cast over everything suddenly.”
Peer support group was my chosen path. Was it infallible? No. Did any of these people have past comparable to mine? Also no. PTSD support group was a complex thing, there were times when it felt undoubtedly pointless to me. How could I relate to any of these regular people or their regular problems, but then I started listening, albeit begrudgingly, yet nonetheless I listened, I heard their stories, and I was no longer so sure of our differences. There weren’t stories of the red room or anything remotely akin to it, however, it was the way that their experiences affected them which stuck with me. The words they were able to attribute to the emotions which lived inside of them that kept me coming back. Despite, my initial reservations, the PTSD group helped, more than anything else I’d ever taken part in. Perhaps it was something to do with the overarching feeling of sitting in that circle, listening to people pour their hearts out, hearing the most painful moments of their existence, and knowing that here, in this old, sordid room, there was an understanding so profound it was almost impossible to describe. For just a moment it was as if you were no longer alone in it all.
“It’s interesting how you describe the gray cloud which was cast over everything. It is common for us to associate our feelings, our pains, with colors. I suppose it helps us categorize the moments. It could be interesting to go around the circle and say what color you see the more painful parts of your past in.”
As each group member shared around the circle, choruses of gray, blue, and black were named. Some people going into slightly more detail as to how things looked to them, I listened to each person intently, taking in their words and considering them. When it was my turn to share, I was almost startled, I realized in that moment that in all the months that I’d been attending this particular group, not once had I shared. Glancing around the circle, a few eyes sat on me, waiting patiently for me to speak up, while others looked elsewhere, alleviating some of the tremendous pressure. I swallowed twice before looking toward my hands.
“No one needs to feel pressured in the slightest to share, this is all at your own individual pace, there are no right and wrong ways to heal.”
I blinked rapidly, wanting this to be over, yet also not wanting them to move on before I mustered the strength to speak. It was hard, excruciatingly so. I felt as though I’d swallowed glass in that moment. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes lightly, gripping the seat of my fold-out chair so tightly I was surprised I didn’t split a nail right to the cuticle. Still, there was silence in the room, still, no one seemed inconvenienced in the slightest. “Red. Everything was red.” I spoke up when I finally manage to find my voice.
Sitting on the steps in front of the building where the group was held, I stared at the screen of my phone, sitting open on the oh-so-familiar contact. The air was glacial around me, winter sitting heavy in the streets of New York, biting at my flesh and reminding me of the much more unforgiving climate I’d grown accustomed to in my youth. The line connected on the third ring. There was silence for a long while, eventually, I could take no more of it. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize, you were right. We don’t keep things from each other, our trust is built on honesty and faith and I will never keep something like that from you again. I was being an arse, I just- and this is not an excuse in the slightest, but I need you to know that I only ever wanted to do right by you, I thought if Natasha didn’t end up joining the team, telling you would have re-opened old wounds for no reason. I was trying to protect you, but I shouldn’t have done it by deceiving you. I am so sorry, Nadia. I mean it.”
She did not need to explain herself, not really. I knew she had valid reasoning; all she had ever done from the moment we’d met was look after me. She had never once lied to me; she was the only person in the entire world I could say that about.
“We are family, I’m sorry I said we aren’t, this is hard.”
“I know.”
I sighed heavily. “You think I should call Nick Fury, don’t you?” Anna’s light laugh filled the line; it was enough of an answer for me. “I do not want any part in his little band of merry men.”
“I don’t think you should do anything you don’t want to, ever. That said, I think this is different to what you’re expecting, Nards.” She paused momentarily, I remained silent, awaiting what she would say next. “You know how I feel about Nick’s initiatives, but this feels different. I think it could be the real deal, admittedly it’s a motley crew, but I see something there, and maybe I’m just an eternal optimist, but I really think it’s something that could change the world.”
“I’m glad you came around, Nadia.”
A scoff fell from my lips before I could stop it. “I did not come around to anything, this is a meeting only.”
“Of course.” The glint in Nick’s eye aggravated me immensely as if he knew something I did not. The moment I stepped into the room I was dubious, motley crew was an apt description.
The old war hero who’d been frozen for a lifetime, the meek scientist who on occasion turned green, the renegade madman who decided to don one of his own inventions to fight crime, and two S.H.I.E.L.D agents. I nodded to Clint before my eyes fell on the woman next to him, the woman I had not seen in 10 years, my closest friend in the red room. There was a time when I considered her family, her, and Yelena, it was the three of us together against all else. Now, looking at her had my blood turning to ice in my veins. I did not know what to say to her, she had escaped the red room before me, I was so much younger. There had been a time when I’d resented Natasha for leaving us, for abandoning us in that place. For a while, I blamed her, loathed her for how much worse things became after. The interest Dreykov had taken in my particular potential as a trained killer alienating me as his prodigy, his star pupil. I did not know if I still resented her for it, part of me wondered why she never came back for us, but another part understands more wholly than I’d ever understood anything in my life. In all fairness, I too had left a life behind, Yelena. I thought about her constantly, though, my defection from the red room had not exactly been planned, I believed I was dead, everyone else believed the same. There was no going back for me.
“Team, this is agent Nadia Pimenova. Here at S.H.I.E.L.D, we call her Shadow Singer” The codename made a shiver tremble down my spine. It was not a name that had been earned lightly, not for positive attributes, but one that had been selected after I’d proved through a penchant for psychological warfare, luring out the darkest side of a target to make them confess or simply to win the fight. “I believe Nadia will be an asset to this team, however, she’s not entirely convinced we have much of a team yet, so let’s sell her on the idea.” I rolled my eyes heavily at Fury’s words.
The captain was first to step toward me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent, I’m Steve Rogers.” He held his hand out for me to shake, though I simply glanced down at it with an unimpressed look.
“Really? Steve Rogers, I did not know.” A snort sounded, causing my eyes to fall on none other than Tony Stark who sat on the conference table with a cool, disinterested countenance. “Are we not supposed to be somewhat enemies? What with you being Captain America.” I put extra emphasis on his title, splaying my hands out for theatrical effect. “And me being… Well, there’s not an easy way to say this but, a Russian.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “The cold war was a little after my time, kid.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I think you’ve got me wrong. My allegiance to America is to freedom and liberty, not an arms race.” He was exceptionally boring I decided in that moment. Boring but harmless.
“Alright, gramps, I’m pretty sure she was just giving you a hard time.” Stark cut in holding his hand out to me also, I rolled my eyes at the gesture, why do people insist on this menial social behavior of shaking hands? “What? You trying it on me too? I get it, the whole cold and perpetually jaded thing you’ve got going on, honestly it reminds me of me. Which is why, unfortunately for you, it won’t work on me.” I remained silent at his words.
“She doesn’t like being touched.”
My body tensed at the sound of her voice. I remembered when we met for the first time, how could I forget? It had been so terribly cold for hours and I hadn’t the slightest idea where I was, nor where I’d come from. I was sitting in the corner of a shipping container; I suspected that I had been there for days. Days without food, sharing water with other girls who were in there as well. Natasha had come and sat beside me, holding my hand and assuring me it would be alright. She was older than me and while she was afraid, she seemed to know what was coming, a little blonde girl sat on the other side of her, Yelena. I was 5 years old, and I’d never felt fear like that before, but Natasha somehow made me think that just maybe, everything would be alright. She never once let go of my hand.
I could not avoid it any longer, my eyes met hers finally, she looked different, more grown up. She’d been 18 the last time I’d seen her. “You sound different, still you but there’s a little more American there now.”
“You sound the same.”
She smiled slightly at my curt tone, but her expression turned mildly sullen after a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I stood silently for a moment, not quite sure how to respond to her. “And you are the green one,” I gestured toward Banner before continuing, “how lovely we are all acquainted now.”
Fury took the reins then, sitting us all down and giving what I supposed was meant to be a pep talk to promote camaraderie between us. I was still unconvinced that this group would ever be a team. Whether it was sheer morbid interest or some kind of unconscious faith I found myself offering Nick Fury a look that he understood meant, ‘I suppose this will do’.
I leaned against the side of the building; eyes closed as I breathed in the particular smell of New York City. A little acrid with air pollution, and the smell of hot dogs from the nearby street vendor wafting toward me on the icy breeze. There was a dampness that sat heavy around me as the frost melted and drained away into the gutters. The sounds of traffic and the buzz of chatter on the streets anchored me to the city which enveloped me, it was perfect. My eyes opened as footsteps neared me, I could feel her eyes on me long before she spoke.
“This suits you.” I glanced toward her. “New York.” She clarified.
Silence sat heavy between us for a long moment.
“How long have you been an agent?”
“A while… you?”
I laughed dryly. “A while.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw her lips turn up. “Touché.” It was strange, to be standing here beside her under these circumstances. She wore a pencil skirt, and her hair was loose, I wondered if she still had nightmares about the Red Room. “How’d you get out.” Her voice cut through the silence like a knife through paper. I met her gaze, mouth remaining shut. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me. This is weird, I’m not really sure what to say, Nadia.”
The windows rattles as rain pinged off the glass, the air was balmy, humid as summer bared its teeth. It was my first time in Portugal and my body was unused to the heat. I focused on what I could hear around me, rain, thunder, wind whistling, and running water. There was an artificial yellow glow streaming out through the crack in the door, beneath it stood Natasha, her red hair pinned neatly behind her ears as she wrung out a cloth in the dingy old sink. I pressed my hand harder to my leg, the once white towel turning crimson, today was my 13th birthday and I’d never been shot before. I had been punched, slapped, kicked, even stabbed but never shot. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and not at all how I’d expected it. I remember the first time I shot someone, I was 11 and I’d thought it would be just the same as shooting a target; it wasn’t. Having watched others get shot and having pulled the trigger before myself I thought I knew what it would feel like to receive the bullet.
At first, I hadn’t felt anything. In training, they tell us even when there is pain you must keep going, you must finish the mission. Pain is temporary, pain is weakness leaving the body, that is what they say in the Red Room. I wondered if maybe the pain had waited for my signal to begin, waited until the mission was done to claw its way to the surface and make its self-known. Now there was nothing but pain, it burned like fire licking at my flesh and tendons.
“Don’t pass out.” Natasha pressed the cool, wet cloth to my forehead that was beading with sweat. She watched me cautiously for a moment before moving to my leg. I flinched when her hands landed on the side of my leg. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to bandage your leg, so you don’t bleed out.” I lifted the towel to see the hole in my suit that revealed a dark circle of marred flesh. “It’ll be okay, I think the bleeding’s stopped so that means it hasn’t hit anything too bad. I’ll just take the bullet out and we’ll wrap it up, when we get back, they’ll stitch it properly.” She pulled out some tweezers from the first aid kit she’d found going to work on getting the bullet out of my thigh. I gritted my teeth as the sharp metal scraped my wound. “It hurts, I know. Don’t worry I’ve done this a couple times before. So, where are you from?” I glanced up at her, my chest rising and falling rapidly as pain seared through me. “As in, where did you come from before you got taken to the Red Room with Yelena and me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh… I don’t really know where I’m from either.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I watched her, it felt like the burning would never end. She met my eyes for just a second. “Have you ever been to America?” I shook my head at her. “Yelena and I were there for a little while, it’s so weird. They eat this food that’s like these little fried potato balls, they call them tater tots.”
She did not seem even slightly bothered by the stickiness of my blood that now coated her fingers. “T-tater tots?” She nodded.
“And they have these little cakes that come in plastic wrap and they’re like sticky and beige, guess what they're called.” I shrugged as best I could. “Twinkies.” It was a strange concept, a beige cake in plastic wrap. “But that’s not the best part, inside of them is this super sugary sweet cream. They are disgusting and delicious all at once.”
I felt my lips upturn as she spoke, a sound like a laugh leaving me. When I looked back down, she was almost finished bandaging my leg, the bullet laying on the white towel beside me, a sheen of my blood gleaming in the light. “That… that sounds good.”
She nodded, meeting my eyes once more as she finished tying the bandage. “It was.” Her hand was only slightly larger than mine as she squeezed around my fingers. “And one day… we’ll both get to have Twinkies.”
“And tater tots too?” I could feel liquid streaming down my cheeks as she nodded, in that moment it was hard to tell if it was tears or sweat but it didn’t really matter.
“And tater tots too.”
I rolled my neck, exhaling heavily, my air came in a white puff into the street before me. “You were right.” My eyes fell to my feet as I spoke, her gaze burned into the side of my head, but I chose not to meet it. “Disgusting and delicious… all at once.” For a beat, there was silence between us again.
A gentle laugh filled my ears then. “Fucking Twinkies.” Another beat passed between us.
“They think I am dead.” I finally said.
“You faked it.”
I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. “Not on purpose.” Finally, I met her gaze. “I thought I was too.”
“I’m glad you’re not.” There was an expression on her face that I did not understand, sadness, perhaps. “I’m sorry.” Guilt, I realized.
I shook my head again. “It was death… The Red Room. Don’t apologize for living.”
There was a tear streaming down her cheek when I looked at her again. “But I let you die.” I watched her, I wondered if this were just something she needed to say, something that had occupied her mind for a long time. It was hard, almost impossible for me as I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder. I had been punched, slapped, kicked, even stabbed… and shot, yet this was what terrified me. Slowly, cautiously, hesitantly, I let my hand fall to her shoulder, squeezing for just a moment before I pulled away and walked back toward the building where Fury was waiting.
Just to note: There won't be a chapter on the events of the winter soldier movie as I don’t feel that it progresses this story very much – there will, however, be flashbacks in later chapters referencing the events of Winter Soldier but there will not be a full chapter dedicated to it.
Thanks for reading
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unhonestlymirror · 2 months ago
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***
Had a dream about being a Cinderella or something, and I had two goth sisters and a goth stepmother who hated me for... some reason (there was no dad). We had to leave our home because we didn't have enough money, we quarreled a lot, there were murders on a railway station happening, and my real mom's friends eventually left me alone... Eventually, we've moved into a small two-story house, the stepmom invited a lot of guests (although I didn't like to meet new people), and she bragged about how she enrolled her girls in some cool college, and how she cherishes her real daughters (but not me), obviously waiting for me to get angry.
I said, "Yes, you're a good mother", really meaning it. "You've never said it to your real mom when you had a chance", a devil whispered in my ear.
The dark witch looked lost for a moment, and then she smiled as brightly as a child and exclaimed: "Yes! I'm a good mother! :D" and winged came back to the kitchen. The fact, that a person who hated me that much looked so happy when receiving an approval from my lips, caused me pain.
I ruffled my younger step-sister's hair and said "I saw how you put those annoying guests on their place. Well done." - and for the first time, Kitty didn't curse at me, but tried to hide under her bangs like a little crab, as if hearing something like this was completely new and embarrassing for her.
There was no Prince Charming to take me to the white palace, and there were no villanous step-family - there were just a bunch of unloved people in a small town, without much money, united with an unrelated to them girl under life circumstances. If I didn't succeed to make them feel happy and safe around me, I decided, I didn't deserve to live in a better place.
Time-skip. Me and my step-sisters were already grown adults, each with good education, our financial situation was pretty good. A detective found traces of my godmother in another country, which was hard to reach due to civil war. But I was gonna find her anyway. Too much effort and money has already been spent. "Are you gonna go in that dangerous place without me?!" - Catherine exclaimed. My older step-sister still has been wearing all black, including the over-knee high-heels. She also liked curling her thick black hair, which really made her look like a Dominatrix. In my flower dresses, office jackets and a hair bun, I looked ridiculous against her background.
"That's okay, - I smiled. - Someone needs to protect the house and take care of the business, and you are the best at this." It wasn't a lie, but I chose to remain silent about the fact that in a country with an unstable situation, the safest thing to do is to look like a provincial silly girl. Still, older step-sister wanted to protect me in her own way, and it made my heart warm. "Don't worry, we're gonna be okay. After all, Kitty is gonna be with me, too." Catherine didn't approve of this decision but she didn't protest either.
We've reached the final railway station eventually, the same one on which, many years ago, a lot of murders happened. It was sunny and peaceful outside, and although I allowed myself to enjoy this feeling for a second, I didn't let the weather deceive me. We walked around the whole city, every nook and cranny, and towards the end of the day, when hope had already begun to fade, I noticed a familiar gait.
The Godmother changed a lot from the last time I saw her. After all, decades passed. She had shrunk in height, hunched over, her hair had turned snow-white, and the lenses in her round glasses were so strong they made her look like Nana Grandma from the "Madagascar" cartoon. After all the people whom I used to know died, she was the only remaining thread to my older, happier life. The spark hit my heart and ricocheted into my eyes, face, whole body posture. "Godmother! - I shouted. - Wait, stop for a second!"
She quickened her pace. Me and Kitty exchanged glances. "Let's catch up with her." It would be harder to do if I was alone, I thought when we eventually succeed to "squeeze" Godmother. She still looked like an innocent old woman who didn't understand what was going on, but she had the aura of a hunted animal. I didn't like that.
"Godmother! It's me! Don't you recognise me? - I looked at her face more closely."
She did recognised me. Fear was reflected on her face, as if a long-buried nightmare had come to life before her. "I don't know!!! - she yelled. - I don't know who you are!!! Leave me alone, you satanists!" - she pointed at my sister.
"You're just a coward who's afraid of responsibility! - my sister went berserk suddenly, and her dark long bangs flew up, opening her fierce eyes. - I am aware you don't really like our family, but you could visit your goddaughter at least once, for her's sake! However, you've never come for dinner, not a single time! You were so afraid that your money "magic wand" would fall into our evil hands that you simply left Cinderella to her fate, left her alone, occasionally sending anonymous trinkets, like that shoe!"
Yeah, and that shoe had the fingerprints that got us here, so it's not exactly a "trinket", a memory flashed through my mind.
"If you cared so much, why haven't you taken Cinderella to your own home in the first place?"
"Leave me alone! - Godmother cried out tearfully and grabbed the sleeve of a man passing by. - Mr. Oculist! It's so nice to meet you! My lenses got a bit scratched, could you please look at them?"
"You old bitch!-"
"Language, Kitty, - I grabbed her hand. - Let's go."
"But!.. After all these years, you're just gonna let her go?! We've just received the confirmation that she stole your family's whole fortune! You should sue her!"
In a country with the civil war, as foreigners? You must be joking, Kitty.
We have never been short of money since we started our fashion business. And yet, I've never heard Kitty yelling in such a despair before. "I made your new glasses to order, as you requested." "Oh, they look lovely!" I froze in place and couldn't move a single finger.
"I've recorded everything! We must find her again and demand justice!-"
"Kitty, let's go home. I want to go home."
Kitty abruptly fell silent, her hands dropped. Her bangs covered half of her face again, making her look like a Hellenic statue in emo clothes.
For several minutes we stood there, unable to utter a word. Godmother left. Suddenly, Kitty lunged forward and wrapped her arms a bit awkwardly around me.
I haven't shed a single tear (publicly) since that day I've lost everything. Every day I greeted and saw off with a smile because That day forever deprived me of my parents, my home and the unconditional faith in the future. No matter how much I was being scoffed, wasting time on sadness felt like a sin. I could never be sure how much time I still had.
Kitty used to love breaking my colour pencils in half to piss me off. Right now, I felt like such colour pencil in her arms. My whole body was permeated with pain that I could not contain. My face was burning, and it felt like lava was flowing from the eyes. I expected Kitty to mock me as usual but she hadn’t said anything.
***
"I still can't believe that old hag tried to marry you on her another godson! What kind of shady business she does? What for would she even do that?"
"She needed to get rid of the competition, - I explained wearily, the throat was still a bit hoarse. - And I would not have been able to claim the inheritance if I had gotten rid of my surname and had trapped under control of Mr. Prince and his family."
I remembered how step-mom tore up my invitation to the ball right in front of me. It was one of those rare moments when I wanted to rebel and let go of control over my emotions. I was selfish enough to assume that she would waste her time to hurt the feelings of an alien girl. She turned her back on me when I started screaming at her, but when I came closer, I saw her face - furious and crying. Something happened, something which I didn't know about. There was a bigger picture I couldn’t saw yet, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to.
Eventually, she calmed down, but the invitation could not be restored. Well, I've got there anyway when I've reached 18, and learnt the truth.
"I'm sorry I called you a whore back then."
I stared at Kitty in surprise.
"Kitty, you were twelve."
"I- I was angry at you. You were intelligent, educated, elegant, literally from another world - and I thought you were gonna steal all mom's love and attention to yourself. I felt like it was so easy to become your shadow, and I was already unseen, and I hated you for that."
"Kitty-"
"At first, I hated you for your presence in our house, but later, I was afraid you were gonna leave us like my and Catherine's dad. It was easier to live with you, and I hated you for that. I hated that I needed you. That's why I cut all your dresses that day. It never fully come to my mind, how much you must have suffered. I'm truly sorry."
Right now she looked like that little crab in a shell again.
"It must have been bothering you for a long time, and I'm glad you've told me this, Kitty. I was never really angry at you, at all of you, though. And you will never be my shadow, because you are you, and you have so much light in yourself."
"We've made you work 24/7 as a housekeeper!"
"I didn't mind that. Doing something all the time was a good distraction from the pain."
"We've mocked you a lot."
"Maybe we all didn't get along well at first, but we've gone through all the difficulties together, and I'm really happy that I'm here with you now, and I'm not gonna run away. I will never run away anymore... Kitty, if you start sobbing, I'm gonna start crying, too, you know that?" - I finished a little grumpily, to hide the treacherous tremor in the voice. Alright, it was my time to hug her back.
Few hours passed, the landscape was monotonously calming. A white spot floated past and only a second later it dawned on me.
"There was my first home."
"WHAT?! Where?!"
"We've already passed it."
"What was it like?"
Before the war, before That day, it was a brownish brick multi-storey building, in the shape of the letter C.
Now, they plastered the walls, painted it all white, added a bunch of pompous statues made of dark metal... I didn't have time to examine the details, but it looked like a brand new glossy magazine. This Ghost of the Past bore little resemblance to the home of my childhood. There was nothing left to hold on to.
"It's different... Shit!"
"What?!"
"We forgot to buy souvenirs to Catherine and mom!"
"You think they would care??" - laughed Kitty.
"It's not like people can come to this country every time they want to!"
"Lucky for you... I've bought a couple of local fashion magazines!"
"You're my saviour."
I was leaving my old life behind for forever, and I didn't have a single regret about that. I was able to built a better life on the ruins of the old, in a foreign place, and "the hostile villains" turned to be my only family whom I loved deeply and wouldn't exchange for any palace, any cristal shoe in the world. And it was mutual! Isn't it magic?
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curiouser--and--curiouser · 2 years ago
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Could I get an Obi-Wan fic where he finally reveals his feelings for the reader after years of keeping it in? And they both just melt into each other because they can both finally show how they feel
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The Red Tie Around Your Hearts
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Summary: You go missing on a dangerous mission and Obi-Wan, who is in love with you, goes crazy with worry.
Fluff, angst, obi-wan having a crisis, love declarations, gender-neutral pronouns.
Warnings: swearing, near death experience.
Word Count: 2.5k words
A/N: Requested by @alaina-b, hope you like it hon, sorry it took so long! I've had one of the longest months of my life travelling here there and everywhere, so hopefully some half-decent ideas have formed in the mean time!
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Obi-Wan was losing his fucking mind.
You were missing and it was all his fault. Well, not really, but it certainly felt that way to him.
Why didn’t I go with them? Why did I not protect them?
Obi-Wan paced around the briefing room, the artificial lights invading his senses. They were suffocating him; the whole journey from the hangar to here was suffocating. The creaking metal of the walls and the too-white lights pushed into his mind with every step, reminding him painfully that he was so far from the ground. He was in the vastness of space alone. Without you.
You were a guiding light in his life – always steadfast, always the same. Always that same wonderful person he fell in love with all those years ago.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on when he started loving you. Maybe he always has. You had been best friends since you were padawans. Two young Jedi hungry to learn, desperate to succeed. You were inseparable; you would sneak off every night for some secret meeting of just the two of you. Every shiny, naïve, joyous idea that came into your young heads you said and did and enjoyed. You explored the world around you, eyes wide and gleaming, and no warning lecture from any Jedi Master who caught you could deter this duo. A common thread linked you, a red tie around your hearts. You felt every pull and every tug, every single movement the other took like some kind of precognition. Thoughts and feelings flowed between the two of you without words, a single look into the other’s eyes saying more than the most eloquent bard with pen and paper.
So when the red cord around Obi-Wan’s heart started to get a little tighter every time he saw your beautiful smile, he was naturally fucking terrified.
Attachment was forbidden, feeling something more towards you was forbidden. But the jolt of that string around his heart felt more natural, more real, more true than any of the empty words the Jedi taught him.
He was so confused, so unsure. He tried pulling away from you, but that goddamn cord around your hearts dragged you with him no matter where he hid. You set alight the kinds of emotions he never thought he would feel, but it went against his entire way of life. And yours too. Why would he jeopardise your future in the Jedi Order for his silly little crush? It was your home too and he wasn’t about to cast you out onto the streets. Loving you from afar was far preferable to you risking your jobs for an attempt at a relationship, or even worse, you rejecting him altogether. You were his best friend and he didn’t want to lose you.
But now he was about to.
Why didn’t he take the mission? Why did he let you go? You were adamant to go, this was your operation and you were the commanding officer, so it was your mission to face alone. It was dangerous, sure, but nothing to challenge your expertise. Just a simple grab and go mission. Fly down onto the Separatist ship, grab the stolen holocron, fly back. Easy. What wasn’t easy was getting past the prying eyes of the enemy. But again, nothing to challenge you – you had done it a million times, slipping past battle droids like a ghost. However, this time, there were too many. Fleets of droids were parked in front of your destination – they knew you were coming. Theories of betrayers and weak links in the Republic whizzed through your mind, but you didn’t focus on them. You pushed on – through the ships, through the droids, through the pained shouts of Obi-Wan telling you to just come back. “It’s not that important,” he would shout, but you knew he was wrong. The holocron held vital information pertaining to the Jedi Order and you were not about to leave it in dangerous hands. You swore to protect the Order, and you were sure as hell going to protect it now.
Obi-Wan could only watch from the starflighter as you sped off into the fray, swerving and dodging between the blaster fire, praying to whatever gods were looking down upon you that you would be returned safe to him. And it seemed like they were actually listening to him as you shot down more and more droids, aided by the Republic gunship’s cover fire. As your ship disappeared inside the target cruiser, your comm link stayed open and the painful tie around Obi-Wan’s heart loosened slightly. You were winning and you were going to come home safe to him. You narrated your surroundings to Obi-Wan, the commanders and clones at work between deep breaths as you snuck behind the backs of your foes, swiftly cutting down any droids in your way. Rustles of your hurried searching echoed through the loudspeaker of the control room, until you let out a single breath of relief.
“It’s here.”
Then it all went wrong.
Your comm link fizzled out with a sharp ring and every person in the room waited in silence for you to reconnect. All eyes focused on the loudspeaker before a deafening explosion sounded out. Obi-Wan felt his soul leave his body and the red string around his heart knot shut. He ran to the massive windows at the front of the starship only to see blinding fire. An orange glow bathed the entire control room as the Separatist cruiser you boarded exploded into flames. Gasping for air, Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered to every corner of space in front of him, desperately searching for anything to signal your escape. Yet he found nothing.
No, no, no, no, no. Please gods no. Not you. Not now.
His feet moved before his brain could register it. Obi-Wan was sprinting out of the control room to board any available ship in the hangar. He even ordered a squad of clones out of their ship with an uncharacteristic shout and took off in it to search for you. He’d apologise to them later. You were more important to him.
Shouts of objection by the other commanders flooded through his comms to the point where Obi-Wan turned it off with a slam of his fist. He flew around the wreckages of droid ships with a speed bordering on hyperspace, but found nothing. No sight of you. No sight of your ship.
Gods, no. Fuck, where are you?
He flew faster still, his steering getting faster and jerky, checking every nook and cranny of the charred shell of the target cruiser from which the explosion emanated. At this point he was barely using his eyes, only the tug of the cord connecting you both, trying to pull and follow it to its end where he would find you. The cord wasn’t cut, he could still feel the faintest connection between you both… he just couldn’t find you.
Please, no. Y/N don’t leave me.
Suddenly, blaster fire skimmed off the roof of Obi-Wan’s ship. The Separatists had found him. It took every single bit of strength in his mind and body to drag himself away from his search and retreat back to the Republic ship. The red cord got longer, you felt far away, almost out of sight.
So now here he stood, on the verge of a breakdown in the middle of a briefing room with nearly all hope lost. Various commanders and clones tried to discuss their next moves in the mission, but he paid attention to none of it. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain and worry radiating throughout his entire body. Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to fall as his heart got heavier and heavier in his chest. The only words that got through was an admiral’s strong suggestion to retreat. Anger flared in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he spun around ready to fight anyone who would even consider leaving you lost in the coldness of space. He argued back and forth with a cutting intensity, but deep down he knew the admiral was right. The first mission of the Jedi was to protect and Obi-Wan had to protect his soldiers. But he couldn’t abandon you. That fucking red string was getting thinner, only a couple of fraying threads remained. The slightest tug could break it and you would be lost forever.
“General Kenobi, we must flee now. The Separatists are still out there.”
“I am aware of that Admiral, but we need to stay and fight.”
“Sir, we can’t. We are low on fuel and our shields are failing. I know General L/N is important to you, but we must leave now.” Of course they all knew, it was impossible to miss the fact the two of you were attached at the hip, the way you would talk about each other. They knew there was probably something going on between the two of you, but respected you both enough to leave you to it. Thus, they also knew that Obi-Wan was only acting out of pain. He was an excellent Jedi and a compassion commander to all his clones; he was not usually like this. It was clear the route of his anger the potential loss of you. But that didn’t make the anger go away. The fire in his eyes got darker as he stepped forward to the admiral.
“Now listen here. That is no concern of yours.”
“I mean no offense, General, but you must be realistic.”
“I am. I am being realistic and we need to stay.”
“L/N is gone, or else they will find a way themself-“
“No! They are not gone, they are still here.”
“Sir, please-“
“I won’t leave them!”
Suddenly, the blast doors opened and Obi-Wan swore he was dreaming. There you stood right in front of him. Singed and battered, your robes covered in soot and a small amount of blood dripping down the side of your face. You can’t be real, Obi-Wan thought, they are gone, they are dead. This had to be an apparition, some trick his grief playing on him. But you walked through the doors just like you, and looked just like you, and smiled at him just like you. Your eyes bored into his and made his heart clutch in his chest. It was you. You were okay.
Wordlessly, you dragged your eyes away from Obi-Wan, glanced around at the room full of officers. Your gaze fell upon the Admiral you had heard through the walls in deep debate with your fellow Jedi. Your hand burrowed on your pocket for a second until you withdrew a glowing blue palm-sized cube; the holocron. A gasp rang through the room at your victorious mission and you tossed the holocron to the Admiral who only just to caught it in his own hands. You gave him a light knowing smile and nodded your head towards the door. Understanding flashed across his face instantly as he began to quietly usher out the rest of the officers with a smile of his own.
Soon, only you and Obi-Wan remained. The tension in the air was palpable. You just stood gazing at each other, barely believing they were stood here with each other again. Neither of you know who moved first, but soon you were both running full tilt at the other and colliding. Hard. Arms went flying everywhere as you pulled each other into a bruising hug, pushing all their shared pain, anger and relief into it. Nothing else mattered now. Only the two of you. Both your pairs of legs buckled underneath you as you lowered down onto your knees, continuing the hug. After what felt like hours, Obi-Wan pulled away, staring down into your tired eyes. A tear ran down his face as he cupped your face with his large calloused hands. His thumbs brush along your cheeks, wiping away your own tears. He was so fucking relieved. The flurry of emotions inside of him blurred his mind of all common sense, only following what felt good. And you felt so damn good. Without another thought, his moved his head down and captured your lips with his. You were caught off guard, lost in the feeling of finally being back in his arms. Back home. Your eyes fluttered shut and your lips moved in tandem with his. You melted into each other grabbing at anything at all, losing yourselves in the feeling. All of a sudden, Obi-Wan pulled away, leaving you breathless and seeing stars.
“I love you, Y/N” he admitted, staring deep into your gorgeous eyes. “Darling, I’ve loved you for so long. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, but I wanted - needed - you to know.” A beaming smile rose on your face, stretching all the way to your ears. You reached up and pushed back a loose strand of hair, threading your hand into his hair as his eyes closed with a sigh.
“I love you too, Obi-Wan,” you replied as his eyes instantly shot open at your words. His smile matched yours as he hugged you again, this time fully encased in joy. You laughed lightly at his antics as you gripped onto him like a lifeline, your exhaustion from the mission starting to get the better of you. Eventually, Obi-Wan pulled away again, but looking more sorrowful this time, more tears falling.
“I was so scared, darling,” he rambled breathlessly. “Fuck, I was terrified I’d lost you. I went out, I couldn’t find you, I looked everywhere, I thought you were dead, you should be dead, fuck, what happened, how are you here-“
Immediately, you brought your hands to cup his face, noticing his panic and trying to calm him down. You stroked along his cheekbones lightly, bringing him back down to you. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you whispered to him lightly. “The holocron was booby trapped, they knew we would try and retrieve it. Some kind of self-destruct thing I think. Try and blow us up with it. But it’s okay, I got out, I got to my ship just in time and hid until it was safe. I’m here. I’m okay. I’m safe.”
Your words soothed Obi-Wan as you brought him down from his panic attack. He encircled you with his arms, pulling you onto his lap so your bodies were as close as physically possible.
“Please, never leave me again,” he whispered, barely audible over the thrum of the ship around you.
“I will never leave you,” you replied, more truthful in your words than ever before. “I’m yours.”
Your lips melded together again, saying everything that had been unspoken for years. Gods, the years have been long, skirting around your feelings for each other. But now you could be freely in love.
The red tie around your hearts was repairing, untangled and unfrayed. It was strongest when you were together. The ribbon looped in a beautiful bow and your hearts beat as one, never to part again.
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cafedanslanuit · 3 years ago
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♡   —   tags/warnings: afab!reader, breakup sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), a lot of tears— both sexy and sad, timeskip ofc
♡   —   a/n: my first long piece for tokyo revengers! and ofc my beloved draken had to be the first one <3
♡   —  masterlist
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He shouldn’t have come.
That’s the first thing that comes to Draken’s mind when you pull away from his lips to take off your shirt. He’s already half-hard and his pants only get tighter at the sight of your bra right in front of him.
Less than ten minutes ago, he had been sitting on the same couch where he was lying now. Only you weren’t grinding your hips as you were now― your lower lip was trembling as you handed him one of his old sweaters you always used to wear.
He could have chosen to have this conversation any other place. You would have said yes to meeting at a café or strolling down the street. Yet he was the one that asked if he could come over and you were the one that agreed.
Your lips slid against his again, the kiss you shared rough, demanding, but mostly, needy. His skin burnt for you just as the first time he had you and he couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, making a soft moan leave your lips. With his back on the couch and your hands slipping under his shirt, he could barely remember the reason he came to your place was to finally put an end to your tumultuous relationship.
Well, that and because he couldn’t bear not seeing you any longer.
You had seen this day coming long ago. You woke up one morning to the news of an assault on Draken’s motorcycle shop. No matter how many times you asked him, he never gave you any explanations, even if you were sure he was well aware of what had happened. Every time he got a call from his friends he would leave the room and talk in hushed whispers and he started coming up with more and more excuses to avoid spending time with you.
His gentle nature around you had turned harsh and cold with you ever since that day. Draken had remained silent when you asked him about his change of behaviour, and during one heated night where you had ended up yelling, asking if it was something you had done, he finally spoke, only to assure you you hadn’t done anything wrong.
In your search for answers, you reached out to his friends. But rather than that, what you found was even more questions than before. All of them got visibly uncomfortable when you approached them and it didn’t take much to understand they also knew what was happening but refused to talk about it. The only one who gave you a little more information was Chifuyu, during a late-night talk after his store had closed.
“Talk to him,” he advised, ordering the files from the day and avoiding your eyes.
“I tried, he won’t tell me what happened,” you sighed, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him work. “But this wasn’t a random attack, right? It was something personal. If it was random, then someone would have said so. But everyone just shut ups and gives me a pitying look.”
Chifuyu raises his eyes at you.
“Yeah, exactly that look”, you say, passing a hand through your hair.
“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, putting the files aside. “And not my place to talk to you about it. All I’m saying is everything Draken does is to protect you.”
“Yeah?” you huffed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “Treating someone badly and pushing them away is a way to protect them?”
Chifuyu gave you a sad smile. “Sometimes it can be.”
Even if you knew Chifuyu did his best to keep loyal to his friend while also trying to dissipate your worries, it hadn’t worked. You were sure any day from now Draken would break it off with you. And when you got a call from him asking to come over after almost a week of not seeing you, you understood the time had come.
The next time Draken came to his senses, he had his face buried between your legs. His nose brushed against your clit as his tongue was buried deep within you. The whimpers you were making were music to his ears. He swore he could recognize his name in between your cries a couple of times, but tried not to think much about it. He didn’t want to come to terms with the fact it may be the last time you would call for him like this.
Your legs closed against the sides of his head as you threw your head back in pleasure. Draken put one hand on your inner thigh and forced your legs open, eliciting a sweet gasp from you. He pulled away, the sight of your soaked pussy making his head spin. Fuck, was this really going to be the last time he got to have you like this? Draken slid two fingers across your folds, gathering wetness and then using it to circle your clit gently. He felt your leg twitching under his big hand.
If this was going to be the last time, then he was going to give you something to remember him by.
Draken bent down again and started pressing open-mouthed kisses on your folds. A soft hum escaped your lips as he worked his way around your pussy, making sure there wasn’t a part of it that wasn’t covered by his eager lips. He purposely left your clit for last, his hot breath hovering over it. Those few seconds were enough for you to lift your head, looking down at the man you had just agreed to let go.
His dark eyes met yours, widening just the slightest bit as if he had been caught. He held your gaze for a couple of seconds before taking a long lick, from your entrance to your clit, where he sucked gently, your juices mixing with his saliva.
“You taste so good,” he muttered against your core, slurping like a starved man. His words sent a shock of pleasure between your thighs, making them close against Draken’s head. However, his hands were stronger and they kept you in your place, watching you helplessly wriggle underneath him.
“I love you,” you panted, your thoughts getting cloudy. As a reply, Draken pulled his face away and inserted two of his fingers inside you. Your walls clenched around them, a broken moan stuck on your throat.
The many years he had had you weren’t in vain, as he curved his digits just the right amount and hit that special spot in just a few tries. You threw your head back, hips rising and breath hitching, losing more and more control of your body with every thrust of his fingers. He bent down once more and let his tongue play freely with your clit, his lips circling and sucking just when you needed him to and the tip of his tongue making you see stars.
“Ken— fuck, fuck—,” you whimpered. You put a hand over the one that was holding your thigh open and squeezed it. “Stop, please— I can’t— I don’t— stop. ”
Immediately, Draken pulled away, his concerned face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up until his face was hovering over yours.
“Shit, sorry. You okay? What happened?” he asked in a whisper, inspecting your face as he tried to find a clue of your discomfort. You placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look back into your eyes.
“No, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you reassured him, noticing his eyebrows relaxing a bit at your words. “I just— I don’t want to come— I mean, I do, I want— but with you inside. Please, I need you—”
Draken crashed his lips against yours, and you swallowed his moan when you shuffled your legs so he was resting between them, his bulge pressing against you. His shirt was already long forgotten on the floor and now he was fumbling with his pants as he rocked his hips against yours, the kiss getting more and more desperate with every second.
Once his pants joined his shirt, he fished his wallet from one of his pockets and took out a condom. Your chest rose up and down as you watched him put him on, a small warning inside your mind that this was the last time. Emotions were pouring out without you being able to control it, a knot forming on your throat and your heart clenching in pain. Draken hovered over you again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. his breath making you shiver as he slowly started pushing himself inside.
He left small kisses alongside your neck, trying to ease the pain of the stretch that he knew you were experiencing. In all the time you’d been together, he always managed to make your breath hitch every time he slid inside you. You clutched onto his broad shoulders, one of your hands removing his hairband and undoing his braid, letting his long, blonde hair flow free. You repeated his name like a prayer as you rocked your hips, trying to get used to his size.
You ran your fingers up his spine and threaded them with his hair, closing your fist around it around the base of his neck. Draken took it as a sign to start thrusting against you, making more moans leave your mouth and your hand pull his hair a little tighter. Both your legs circled his waist and you locked your ankles with each other, creating a new angle that made tears form in the corner of your eyes. It was too intense and even if your feelings always poured whenever you two were intimate, you could feel as if every fibre of your body was holding onto him, innocently hoping he wouldn’t leave after you were done.
Draken grunted against your neck, his hips picking up the pace and finding the spot his fingers were brushing against just moments ago. You cried out and tightened your legs around his waist, feeling him so deep that you thought you would be reaching your high quick enough. At this, you put your hand on his right shoulder, pushing him away. He turned his head, his nose brushing against your cheek and his hips slowing down.
“Hey,” he said, just a little out of breath. “Talk to me. What do you need?”
You grabbed both sides of his face, bringing him closer to you. The small resistance you felt as first disappeared as he let you manoeuvre him how you wanted. When his dark eyes were hovering over yours, his hips had already stopped, his eyebrow slightly raised as he looked down at you.
“If this— If this is the last time, I want to see you,” you said, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. His eyes widened at your words and you could feel him tense up. However, a moment later, he nodded and pressed a kiss against your lips as his hips resumed their movements.
For the first time, you were able to see Draken’s small expressions as he fucked you. How his lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth and how his eyes were darker than ever, fixed on your eyes. You had never noticed how his nose turned the loveliest shade of pink when he was fucking you so good. Your heart swole and once again you felt too much at the same time. You loved him, you loved him so much. Why couldn’t you make it work?
Draken took your legs and put them over his shoulders, the new position making you whimper. Soft pleas filled the living room and he rutted into you, each of his thrusts getting you closer and closer plus making your brain foggy. There was only Draken, only him, only your boyfriend Ken who was so wonderful and who had made you fall head over heels for him from the moment you had met him.
Your hands were still on each side of his face, your breath colliding against his as you whimpered. Draken started grunting, his hips snapping faster and harder against your core, setting all your body on fire. It was too much— every inch of you was yearning for the man on top of you, not feeling him close enough even if he was buried deep inside of you. Your hands lowered to his shoulders, nails digging on his pale skin. You wanted him, there wasn’t anything else in the world you wanted as bad as him and you knew as soon as this was over, the more and more pleasure you got from him, then the sooner he’d walk out the door.
Tears started prickling on the edge of your eyes and it wasn’t long until one of them rolled down your cheeks, your moans mixing with small sobs. Draken grabbed your jaw with his big palm, forcing him to lock your eyes with his just as you had before. You saw him moving his lips as if preparing himself to say something, but no words came out of his lips. You noticed concern in his features, yet he seemed distressed as he tried to find the right words.
“I love you,” you panted, feeling another tear fall from your cheek.
And that was when Draken knew.
He knew he had to leave you.
Nodding, he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you too,” he muttered, before picking up his pace.
After that, it wasn’t long before you were reaching your orgasms, clenching around your boyfriend and bringing him to the edge as well. He didn’t let go of the hold on your chin as you both climaxed, eyes locked on each other as you crumbled apart and breaths colliding between parted lips.
It took a moment for both of you to catch your breath. As your body started relaxing under Draken’s weight once more, the reminder of your previous conversation where he was putting an end to your relationship came back. You felt a know forming in your throat and by the sad look on Draken’s dark eyes, it was clear he was thinking of the same thing.
He pressed his lips against yours once more, but this time it was softer, gentler, as if it was the first time he was kissing you at all. It didn’t last more than five seconds but it was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. Draken pulled himself away from you and turned his body as he started putting his clothes back on.
You saw him stretching to pick up the old sweater that you had returned to him a moment ago and picked it up before he could reach it. You put it over your body, covering yourself, but it wasn’t enough to make him look at you.
“Please, stay,” you mumbled. You noticed your lover’s arm tensing at your words, but he still started walking towards your door. “Ken.”
The way you whispered his name made his heart clench, his step faltering for a moment. He stood in front of the door, looking at the handle and gathering all the strength he had left.
“Just for tonight,” you insisted. “You can leave in the morning if you want, just… I want―”
“You know what happens if I stay,” he interrupted you. “If I stay, I’ll never leave again.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Draken finally turned around. You looked so small, covering yourself with his old sweater and a part of him was glad he was leaving something behind. The idea of you remembering him even a few years as you find the sweater on the back of one of your drawers brought peace to his heart. He just hoped this goodbye wouldn’t taint the memories you had created together the last couple of years.
“…I’m not losing you,” he sentenced under your confused gaze.
“Ken—”
Cutting our sentence short, Draken finally opened the door and left your apartment. In the silence that filled your living room, you could only listen to his muffled steps as he walked down the hallway.
You couldn’t understand why he was leaving.
But you knew you were never going to see him again.
762 notes · View notes
ereawrites · 4 years ago
Text
Hush
reiner braun x reader
warnings: smut
wc: 8.4k
summary: reiner comes home, even if part of him doesn’t. who can blame you for wanting to offer him some comfort against all the fucked-up things he’s been through?
Late summers in Marley come with a dry, constant heat, the kind that lasts well into the night. After so many months of sun warming your room, even the stone walls can't keep it cool - you've never been good at sleeping in a hot room, and that's the excuse you use to forgive sneaking away to Reiner again. It's selfish. You're distracting him from the war, you worry, for the sake of a little comfort for him and a little peace for yourself. You shouldn't do it, but you do.
"You can't tell the others that I'm doing this.", he whispers against your bare collarbone, exposed by your own shaking fingers that have undone the first three buttons of your uniform. You try to guide his face back up to yours with a hand cupping his jaw. Reiner leans into your touch, but he doesn't move, instead pressing his forehead against the curve of your shoulder. A shaky breath tickles your skin, and it tells you everything you need to know.
When he first came home, no one saw him for weeks, not even the servants who took meals to his room - you caught them in the corridors, of course you did, if only to ask after the wellbeing of a comrade. Pieck eventually pulled you aside and told you, with pity shining in dull eyes, that they were putting him through tests. Psychological evaluations. From what she had left unsaid, you supposed that they were testing his loyalty more than his wellbeing. They decided that he was their most loyal warrior, and they rewarded him with more battles to fight.
Now, trembling beneath you, in a chair hastily shoved back from the desk in his room, you can see for yourself that Reiner is fractured. He's strong - so strong, not broken, not yet - but he is struggling and he is alone, even months later. You smooth your palms over the taut muscle of his shoulders. "I won't, I swear - no one even knows I'm here.". You've been sneaking to his quarters for months; only to speak, at first, to let him know that he doesn't have to bear the burden of Paradis quite so alone.
Although, to be fair, you've never went so far as to straddle him in a chair. You don't know how it happened, really. You had started off perched on the edge of his desk, and one second you were reaching out to cup his cheek -already too far, presuming too much and breaking too many rules in the name of comfort - and the next thing you knew, you were on top of him.
His voice is so small. "They can't know. They already think I'm weak, I- I am, I am weak, you can't-"
This time, you tilt his face up with insistent fingers under his chin. Even after everything, his brown eyes are still the same: sadder, maybe, and crinkled at the corners with a frown, but filled with the very same gentleness he's always regarded you with. "You're not weak, Reiner. You've been through so much, and you're still here, and you've been so brave. It's okay to let yourself feel things - right here, right now, okay? That doesn't make you weak, or selfish."
Reiner closes his eyes as if he's in pain. "...I'm selfish for doing this - being here. I should be out there in the field instead of letting my heart distract me again."
Again, he says, and it sends a jolt through your gut. They never let you find out what happened on the island - Reiner isn't ready to tell you, and you don't know he ever will be - but you're beginning to realise that the man beneath you is being torn apart by the things that happened to him, and the things he did, and the things he's doing now.
"Rei,", you say gently, tracing your thumb over his lips as you lean your forehead against his. "If you don't want me here, I'll go back to my room, and we don't have to speak about it again... Just say the word."
He sighs. For a moment, you think he's going to ask you to leave. As much as you want to believe that you're only here for him, only here to support him and do what he needs, you'd be lying to yourself. Your heart sinks. He picks it back up again with his hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist. "I do want you."
And you're going to tell him that you want him too, but all of a sudden he's kissing you.
Your body reacts before your mind can even catch up: you thread your hands into hair that's more grown out than he usually keeps it, all the way down to his nape, half pulling him closer and half pressing yourself further into him. Reiner lets out another small sigh, deep in his throat. The sound makes your knees go weak - god, you like him so much, too much, perhaps he's not the only one being selfish here - and your legs sink down until your weight is resting solely on his thighs. His hands instantly fly to splay over your back, one between your shoulders and the other just above your ass, and his palms are so big that he's anchoring you against him without even trying.
"I want you,", he repeats between kisses, "So much. For so long."
Something possesses you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You shouldn't do it - you should let him set the pace because this is about him, and - who are you really kidding? He holds you as if he's scared you'll leave, and you kiss him harder. For a few moments, you don't think about anything other than how good his mouth feels on yours, nothing at all. Every time you run your hands over his shoulders, he shudders as if you've sent an electric shock through him.
Reiner breaks away for air and you nearly whine - so embarrassing, but you realise you don't actually give a fuck. There's something in his eyes that seems scared. Scared you'll leave, or scared you don't want him. You're about to kiss him again before you register the faint taste of whiskey on your tongue. "You've been drinking?"
"A few hours ago. I thought you weren't going to come tonight. Helps me stop thinking about you so much.", he admits with a low voice. The expression on his face is almost nervous, as if he's worried you're going to be angry with him about it, but the confession has your heart racing faster than it has any right to. This is about him, you remind yourself; you're glad that his hair is longer now, because you can tug gently on it, making him tilt his head back and expose the column of his throat. It bobs with a thick swallow when you press the first soft kiss to the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. You don't reply to his words. You honestly don't think you can without crying.
There's no need to rush this. Your body screams for you to, but you've been harbouring these impossible feelings for the man underneath you for months - since before he left Marley, if you're to be truly honest - and you need to savour this and he needs gentleness. Slow, chaste kisses peppered across his neck, his jaw, even his shoulders through the material of his shirt. You ghost your nails down his nape and revel in the way his breath hitches slightly. Somewhere along the way, you realise just how closely you're pressed up to him: your chest is pushed hard against his, hips almost flush, and he's still holding you close. There's a tenderness in the embrace that makes your heart hurt all over again.
"Is this okay?', you ask - Reiner's breaths are coming slow and deep, and you can't get rid of the nagging concern that this might quickly become overwhelming for him. "Are you okay?"
He tips his head back down to level his gaze with yours, and the warm brown of his irises has all but melted away into the black of his pupils. "I want to... touch you."
"You can do anything you want to me, Rei.", your mouth says of its own accord, and you still really don't give a fuck about how shameful your lack of control is, because his grip tightens, and he makes a face like you've stabbed him. You're compelled to wipe the expression away with a quick, hot kiss, just barely dipping your tongue into his mouth before pulling away again. "Anything to make you feel good again."
It's a struggle to wrap your fingers around his thick wrist, but you just about manage it, and guide his hand up to the next button of your shirt. It isn't trembling so much now. The slightest tremor, still, but you half-suspect that's due to the careful, gentle awe that you see glinting in his eyes. Reiner mumbles your name as he starts to fumble with the button. "I don't think I'll be able to stop myself after this."
"I don't want you to.", you reply quietly. Quickly, you come the realisation that Reiner's struggle with the button must have been feigned for your comfort, because he has it - and the next one - popped open before you can even gasp in a quick breath. His lips chase his fingers, so, so soft, trailing down each new piece of skin he exposes (when did you start burning up?) and you find that you push back up on your knees instinctively; high enough for his mouth to be able to reach the space between your breasts and, god, it sends fireworks shooting up your spine.
You hardly pay attention to the last few buttons of your shirt being undone - Reiner's lips on your chest see to that, kissing slowly, almost reverently, around the curve of your chest, just underneath each breast and then back up to your collarbones. It's only now that you recall your decision not to wear a bra. It was already late when you left your room, past midnight, and you couldn't afford to be seen sneaking around looking as though you were dressed to actually go somewhere. 
Besides, Reiner has never been disrespectful to you in any way, never leered at you like some of the other men in the compound. A simple cotton button-up and slacks had seemed the obvious choice. A bolt of worry flashes to the forefront of your mind: what if he thinks you only came here for sex? He means so much more to you than that, you don't want him to think-
His hands ground you. One has slipped beneath the material to rest on your bare waist. He's just brushing the skin, and he's staring at your lips, and he looks as if he's terrified and in awe and maybe something else, all at once. The fingers of his right hand play with the edge of your shirt. He has callouses on the pads of his fingers - a lifetime of too much work and not enough gentleness. This is about him, you remind yourself. You nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then another, and he starts to slip the shirt away from your body.
Reiner whispers, "You're beautiful." against your neck before he's even looked at you. "So beautiful. Sometimes I think you're an angel." An already weak protest dies in your throat when he dips his head to start kissing your neck - real kisses this time, warmer and faster and with a hint of tongue, and although it pains you so much to release your grip on his hair, you do it so that your shirt can fall forgotten to the floor. "Too good for someone like me."
Hushing him comes easily, even if hearing his words is hard - you've spent months trying to soothe him and help him with words, so maybe now is the time to show him with actions instead. Reiner is the one who's too good for you, too good for this world in fact, a world that has done nothing but abuse him. You have to stop thinking and start feeling, both of you. He actually makes a tiny grunt of protest when you push his face away from your neck in order to peel his shirt away. It's selfish, you know, to run your palms up his abs and chest when you do it, just as it's selfish to stare shamelessly at his arms when he raises them to tug the shirt over his head, but Reiner catches you doing it and, for the first time in weeks, he smiles.
"You're beautiful too, Rei. I've thought so for a long time.", you say into a kiss that's already started. His hands are at your hips and your arms are wrapped around his neck, you're so close to him it hurts, so close you feel every last bit of self-control slipping away; he pulls you closer, kisses you harder, lets your tits press up against his bare chest. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're panting for air. No one's ever made you feel like this: so safe and whole and damn hot with just a little kissing.
Then, you adjust yourself in his lap, and you feel that he's half-hard in his pants. Honestly, you doubt your own underwear is in a much better state. Still, you can't help the way your breath hitches: Reiner's jaw tightens, probably because of the inadvertent friction, but you feel the heat spreading over your cheeks. You both want this, of course you do, but it's still shocking to feel the evidence of his arousal. And that's without even thinking about how big the bulge felt in that one little instant.
Reiner tugs you backwards by the hips and you're scared that he's become overwhelmed. He steadies you as soon as your ass is resting further down on his thighs, though - the loss of skin-to-skin contact draws a small whine from you - and starts kissing down your neck again, leads your hands to support yourself on his shoulders, and now his hands are on your tits. It starts off fairly slow. Not quite as gentle as before but the reverence is still evident. An angel, he said, and he touches you like you are one. He claims to be a monster but he treats you so well:  licking at your collarbones and kissing your neck, swiping those calloused thumbs over your nipples until they harden, pinching so gently and just right, making the breath shoot out of you in a shuddering moan. The scolding he gives you sounds entirely absent. "Got to stay quiet, sweetheart. No one can know you're here."
"I-", forced to bite your lip when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, "Sorry. I know. Just - feels good."
"It's what you deserve."
God, Reiner makes you totally weak and he doesn't even seem to know it. His voice is quiet as ever. You always have to speak lowly when you're here, in case someone hears and they keep you from seeing him again - but it's dropped so low, and it's got just the littlest bit of rasp to it. He sounds desperate. You're pretty sure you can actually feel the dampness in your underwear now. Torn between sitting there and letting him play with your nipples for hours, and just unbuckling his belt right now and riding him in his desk chair, you're so close to becoming overstimulated and simply melting into his arms, but he makes the decision for you.
The way he leans even further down to wrap his lips around one nipple must be uncomfortable for him, he's so tall, taller than you even when you're sat on top of his thighs like this - he must enjoy it, though, because he groans lowly as his tongue swirls around it. You nearly have to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a moan, and he clearly knows you're going to need extra support staying up, because his now free hand slides around to hold the base of your bare back. "Oh my God-", you hiss. You're almost certain you feel him smile again.
"Rei. Is it okay if I...", you manage to pant out, gesturing to the zipper of your slacks, after a few more minutes of indulgence - after seemingly being satisfied with the attention he gave one breast, he had switched to the other, making practically inaudible noises each time your hips canted against his broad thighs. One day, if he lets you do this again, maybe you'll ask him to let you get off on the hard muscle of his quads. You'd like to feel his arms around you as you fall apart.
His fingers slip just below your waistband. They're so, so close to where you need him, and your body is so hot, and Reiner's must be too because his pecs are starting to glisten with sweat. "Please.", as if he's on the verge of breaking with how much he wants you - it would sound conceited to believe, but you see the way he's looking at you, you feel the way he's touching you. It wouldn't be fair to deny him of the only emotion he's allowed himself in a long time.
Of course, he waits for you to nod your consent. Those warm, fractured, black-brown eyes swallow you up so much that your whole body is set ablaze as he slowly undoes the button of your trousers. You at least had the good sense to wear acceptable underwear, although you suspect Reiner will want that gone, too. He's seeming to grow harder with every bit of bare skin he manages to touch. As he drags the zipper down at a pace much too slow for your liking, he murmurs, stand up for me, sweetheart.
You do, in the space he makes for you between spread thighs, and the thought of being away from him right now is so unbearable, that you press your knees up against the chair to keep the closeness. Reiner looks up at you for a moment, cheeks a little red and lips a little swollen, before his eyes are on your body and your trousers are being tugged gently over the curve of your ass. The heat in your stomach grows even more intense when you literally see his mouth drop open at the sight of your underwear, and he blushes harder when your thighs are exposed; you're tensing them together to relieve some of the pressure, you realise, but Reiner's easily strong enough to get past that. He even leans down to caress your calves as he pushes the slacks the rest of the way off.
"I would have dressed up for you a little more, if I had known this was going to happen.", you half-giggle. It's been a long time since anyone has seen you like this. You're not exactly ashamed of the fact that there's most definitely a damp spot on your underwear - one that Reiner hasn't noticed, too preoccupied with kissing your lower stomach and squeezing your thighs - but it's an intense feeling, finally being in a moment that you've tried so hard to stop imagining. Reiner huffs a small laugh in return against your abdomen.
"You're stunning. In anything.", he says, just before he lays a kiss to your pussy through the material of your underwear. He must feel the wetness because he groans, too loud, and then he licks. You gasp. Even that small action feels so much better than your own fingers ever have. Visions fill your head: sitting on the edge of his desk, watching him eat you out, those huge hands holding your hips in place until the skin bruises, those beautiful eyes staring up from between your legs - he twines his fingers into yours, and brings them to the waistband of your underwear. You catch the hint right as he leans back into the chair again.
Stripping in front of him puts a lump in your throat. Rei is kind but he's huge, especially when he's spread out in his chair like that, with a sweat-slicked broad chest and thick thighs and a bulge that you worry might actually tear through his trousers, and you feel so vulnerable to do this just in front of him, where he can reach out and swallow you up at any moment. It's so incredibly hot. There's no need to put on a show. He watches you as though you're the most beautiful thing in the world anyway. You do it for him regardless, though, as well as you can. You take it slow, being sure to drag your hands over your thighs in a way that feels silly and sensual all at once. When the lace reaches your knees, his hand is there next to yours, and you take it for balance as you step out of your underwear completely.
"Fuck...", he remarks under his breath. His thumb traces absent circles over the back of your hand while he drinks in the sight of you. Perhaps it's because of the dim lighting, the room lit only by a few candles and a lamp in the corner, but you feel like he looks at you too hard, for too long, for someone who isn't supposed to care about you. Your stomach lurches and you feel your inner thighs begin to become wet. You won't take this from him, or yourself, not when the dark look in his eyes is making your pussy clench like this. He holds your hand the entire time he looks at you. "So pretty. C'mere."
Instantly, you're settling back on top of him. The fog in your mind means you don't even question how compliantly you react to his baritone. His left hand snakes around your back again to hold you steady, and you're not quite sure if your hand guides the other to your inner thighs, or if he does it of his own accord. Either way, he's ghosting calloused fingertips over the damp skin there as soon as you make yourself comfortable. "Ah- please.", you whimper.
Reiner probably doesn't mean to tease you, but you need him, you need something to touch you before you go insane. You plead with him again, saying his name this time, and he swallows thickly. The sound that leaves your mouth when he runs a finger up your slit is pitiful. He responds so well, though, repeating the action a few more times before he pulls his hand away. "You're so wet, god."
His voice is rougher than you could ever have imagined. Another clench of your pussy, and you see his eyes widen at the strings of wetness connecting his thick fingers. Your own tone comes out far too high and shaky. "You just - I can't help it, you make me feel... something, I don't know, I-", and it tapers off into a senseless whine when his fingers start to trace lines over your pussy again.
"Relax, angel. Gonna make you feel good like you deserve, I promise.". The reassurance is murmured between your breasts, where he's licking away the salty dampness rapidly collecting there - Reiner clearly wants all of you, every part of you, just as much as you want him. He keeps up the motion for a little longer, spreading your wetness around, until your clit swells up so much that it catches on his finger every time he passes over it. Each gentle bump drags another stifled gasp out of you. No one can know you're here, no one can know that Reiner's grabbing the flesh of your ass and rubbing your pussy, but he sure as hell doesn't make it easy for you.
This time, he doesn't run his finger straight over your clit. He stops moving as soon as your body reacts to the touch - he's right on the most sensitive part of you, and he presses with the smallest bit of pressure, just enough to have you grasping wildly at his shoulders for something to ground yourself on. You're so worked up that it feels more incredible than you would ever have imagined. He's so perfect and good to you, and he doesn't stop there: he begins to trace slow, steady circles directly onto your clit - your body jerks of its own accord, but his forearm around your waist is big and strong enough to pin your hips in place against his hand.
"Oh- Rei-", you moan. You definitely see his cock twitch. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but you're pretty sure you can see a considerable damp spot forming on his trousers, too.
"God. I always knew you'd sound pretty."
The rasped confession has your hips trying to buck again. Reiner's finger starts to move a little faster. The increased pleasure means you're faced with moaning too loud and getting caught, or finding some other way to occupy your mouth. You're panting when you ask, "You've... thought about doing this?"
"Yeah. Too much. I- I'm sorry-", Reiner admits as he mouths your nipples, sounding hardly sorry at all. You envision him fisting his cock to the thought of you right as his middle finger leaves your clit and pushes inside you to the first knuckle,"-I couldn't help myself, I never can around you."
"Shi- I think about you too.". Mewling, your upper body collapses so it's leaning against Reiner's strong torso, your lips against his temple, his head buried in your neck, his arm keeping you steady as he works his finger into you. Senseless blabbering is all you can manage, spilling your filthy secrets into his ear without an ounce of shame. "When I touch myself. I - oh-", turning your face into his hair when his finger catches on that sweet spot inside you, "- I think about you, I always imagine it's you, your fingers, your cock-"
His finger finally, finally is fully inside you, although Reiner is already eagerly pushing another into you; this one makes you feel the stretch, hot and full in a way that even three of your own fingers can never achieve. Shuddering, another moan of his name, clawing at his shoulders - your body welcomes him even if it's a difficulty, gushing more wetness onto his palm until he starts to scissor his large fingers inside of you, stretching you out until tears are pricking your eyes in protest of how good it feels.
"Wish we could do this where no one else could hear."-and so do you, you want Reiner to know just how good he's making you feel- "You sound so pretty. Do you... think you can take it..?", he mumbles, and you know he's talking about his cock, inside you - two of his fingers have you writhing, so the thought of his cock has your eyes rolling back in your head. He crooks his fingers onto your sweet spot right as you open your mouth, almost like he wants the risk of you being too loud and getting caught.
"Please, Reiner, I want to!", you respond a breathy whine, all of it rushing out of you at once before he can catch your g-spot again. You start to snake a hand into the cramped, hot space between your torsos. All you can think of is how good he'll feel when he's inside you. "Let me-"
"Not yet.", he groans, curling his fingers again, and again, not stopping, and he sounds genuinely authoritative for the first time. Your body goes weak, but you'd stop moving for him anyway. "Come on my fingers first. Wanna get you nice and wet before you take me, okay?"
"Fuck-", you cry. The motion on your most sensitive spot just isn't stopping, he's found where he wants to be - the callouses on his fingers are making the friction even more perfect, especially when he brings his thumb to retrace those slow circles on your clit. He keeps it steady for a few minutes - could be hours, or seconds, all you know is that it feels too good to care - and the pressure inside you is becoming something else. Reiner is taking his time with every motion, but that's exactly what's bringing you to the edge so fast. His fingers are so thick and the pressure on your clit is so good, that's it, you're starting to shake in the kind of way that leads up to an orgasm that makes you go blank in the head. You fold into the way he holds you and you let go.
Rei lets a strained grunt out. "That's it, come on, you're taking it so well. You're dripping onto my leg, that's exactly what I want, my angel.". So wet that he can feel it through his trousers, it's so humiliating and Reiner obviously loves it so much because he groans again when you start to clench on his fingers, picking up the pace of his movements and you can hear how wet you are and it must be all over his bare forearm-
"I'm gonna-", you try to warn him: he coaxes you into it, come on, please and you cum hard.
The behinds of your eyelids go white, or black, you have no way to tell. Your entire body feels weightless, grounded only by his arm around you, and his fingers must keep curling inside of you because the waves of pleasure don't stop, they just keep coming, hitting you until every part of your body is alight and molten for him, and you're very vaguely aware of your own hand covering your mouth. It takes longer to come down from it than it's ever taken you.
Then again, no one has ever ripped an orgasm that strong out of you.
"Are you okay?", Reiner asks. His fingers are no longer inside. He's rubbing soothing patterns into your inner thighs, and either your thighs are soaked or his hand is; your muscles feel like jelly, but you just about manage to support your own weight again, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. There's wetness on your cheeks, maybe tears, and Reiner looks at you with clear concern through blown pupils. It's so endearing and sexy that you have to smile. It must relax him, given how he returns it with a soft one of his own - you notice marks on his lower lip, like he bit it to hold back a sound, perhaps.
You kiss him softly to soothe the pain, whispering into his mouth, "Can I have you inside, now, Rei?". His hands come to grip your waist hard. You know how you must sound to him: fucked out after his fingers alone, speech slurred and pitchy from the aftershocks of your orgasm, asking for his cock. And yet, he still waits for you.
"...Are you sure you want me?". You nod in response. He picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, not even letting out a breath of exertion, and your shaky legs wrap instinctively around him as he stands from the chair. For a moment, Rei just holds you there, kissing you with an indescribable, soft kind of intensity, letting you run your hands over the biceps and triceps that aren't even straining with the effort of holding you. His bed is close, but obviously too far away for him, so he places you down onto the edge of his desk. You separate from the kiss, only meaning to glance down to adjust yourself - falling off the desk would be a great way to kill the mood - when you see it.
"Oh - oh my god, the window is open..!"
It makes sense; he knows you don't like a hot room, he's kept his window open in the evenings ever since you told him that weeks ago. Why didn't you check? Everyone else should be asleep by now, but... Porco's room is so close to Reiner's, and if he's somehow awake with his own window open - you move to hop off the desk. Reiner cups your cheek in his hand, drawing your gaze back to him, and suddenly all thoughts about the stupid window disappear.
"It's okay.", he promises. "They won't hear if we're careful. I'm going to be so careful and slow with you, I swear."
God. You look down and you're reminded of exactly why you're so worked up - there is definitely a wet spot on his trousers, he must be leaking for you, and the thought of that cock slowly working you open drives you to start fumbling with his zipper. This is the first time your hands have been near that bulge and they look positively tiny in comparison. You worry if he's going to fit, briefly, but Reiner promised to be careful and you're more than ready for him. Without even bothering to fully remove his slacks and underwear - you just tug them down to his upper thighs - you're met with the full sight of him.
It's so much bigger than you would have thought, even generously, fuck; you're pretty sure your jaw actually drops when it springs free from his underwear, slapping against his taut abdomen. It's long, enough to make your mouth water, with a nice, prominent vein on the underside, but the most impressive part of him is the thickness. Even the head is fat, curved upwards somewhat, and he's leaking so much that a bead of precum rolls down his cock within seconds. You rip your eyes away to look up at him and, somehow, he looks embarrassed. You can't stand to see him like that, not when every part of him is so perfect and handsome, so you wrap your hand around his cock and begin to stroke gently.
Your fingers just barely touch around his girth. His precum slicks your palm, though, making it easy enough to set a nice, slow pace of pumping him, watching how his brow instantly furrows. "Holy shit - ah, use both hands, sweetheart, please -". Reiner doesn't need to ask twice: you spit into your other palm to offer him even more slick, then bring it to join the other, relishing in the choked gasp he makes. Even stroking him with two hands, there's so much of him you can't hold at once.
He's beautiful, you think, with gritted teeth and head thrown back. Right now, you could happily stroke him for as long as he wants, as long as he needs to spill himself all over your hands, but he only grants you a few short moments and a low hiss before he's carefully pulling your hands away.
After a kiss to the knuckles of each hand, he cups the back of your head and leans over you, bringing your back flat against the desk. "Lie back, just like that.", and your legs wrap around his waist without having to be told. There's the briefest flash in his eyes, a feral glint when you tug him closer using your thighs, but then it's gone, and he's tenderly holding your head so it doesn't rest directly on the hard wood of the desk. "Want you to look at me when I'm filling you up, okay? So I know you're okay. Can you do that for me?"
Reiner is going to fuck you, you realise. He really is going to be inside you. This isn't a dream, not the fantasy you have when you're touching yourself after returning to your own room. Reiner is above you, pumping his cock in his fist, staring at your aching cunt as he does it.
"Anything.", you whisper. He dips his head to kiss you once more, then props himself up on his elbow so he can watch your face. The first brush of his cock against your core has your hips bucking, rolling, rubbing yourself up and down his length like a bitch in heat, and he lets you do it, looking into your eyes and smiling when his cock head catches on your hole. Your ankles lace behind his back to pull him down onto you, just as his hips make the first small thrust, and suddenly he's inside you.
It can only be the first inch or so, maybe not even all of the head, but it hurts and you have to bite down on a cry of his name. It hurts and it feels amazing. Nothing has ever stretched you out so much, and you can feel yourself dripping, trying so hard to accommodate him, because your body needs him just as much as you want him; Reiner groans at the first spasm of your walls, much louder than he should be with an open window, but who gives a fuck if Porco hears - it hurts but you nod for him to keep pushing, go deeper, stretch you out around all of his cock.
Reiner begins to pant once he gets the second inch in, going slow for both of your sakes, sweat beading at his temples. "God, you're so - tight-", as he stuffs more into you, watching you whimper and watching your eyes roll into your skull, "-like you're..made for my cock, huh, fuck-"
His voice dissolves into a growl by the end. You roll your hips, all the way up off the desk, and the movement has even more of him inside you. "Oh." You moan, and you think you're tearing up again. Reiner kisses at the edge of your eyes. The sensation is so perfectly overwhelming, the slow drag of his cock as it threatens to split you open, and coupled with the sounds he's making on top of you you're in total bliss.
Both of you go on like that for a while, slowly rolling your hips against each other and stifling noises as well as you can. Marks left on his back by your nails can be hidden, and the red-hot kisses he peppers over your tear-streaked face will fade away. By the time the tight fight has stopped hurting - still intense, maybe too much, but only good - his hips are flush with yours, and he's completely still. His free hand yet again keeps your hips from bucking. You've done it, you realise. You've taken all of his cock and it feels incredible. But he won't move.
Reiner barely starts to speak before you're begging. "Does it feel good-"
"So good, Rei, so fucking good - you can start moving, please."
He doesn't need any further encouragement; the first thrust is shallow, slow, only pulling out a few inches before working his way back into you. Still, when his hips bump against yours again, there's a sharp flash inside of you and he's actually hitting your cervix, fuck, you gasp so loud that he has to muffle it with his tongue in your open mouth. He holds it there for a few seconds before repeating the motion, letting himself fall into a rhythm as you pant and sob into his mouth with each thrust, clutching desperately at his back while every thrust gets deeper. Within a few minutes, he's pulling out almost to the tip each time - only the thick head left to fill you - before slowly, slowly pushing back in.
"You're taking me so well, my angel.", Reiner praises through a ragged breath. Even fucking you slow, he's struggling to contain himself. "You feel so good around me."
"Then, go fa-faster, Reiner, please - I can take it, I promise, just-!"
His hips snap against yours like a gunshot and you're completely filled again in a heartbeat. Your cunt clenches around him as you moan, throwing your head back, and Reiner collapses onto you. His body covers you completely even as he keeps the weight off by leaning on his forearm, letting you feel the drag of your nipples against his skin when he stuffs you with his cock so quick again, he's kissing your jaw and now you have nothing to silence your cries with other than your own hand, heaving for breath through your fingers as he starts to rut into you. The fingers on your hip pull you against him every time he bottoms out, pushing his cock even deeper, and you think you feel him smile against your neck when you gasp, "God, you're so deep."
The faster, frantic pace means that the room is filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, especially when you ask him to go harder and stop holding back, Rei, because you can take everything he has to give you. That perfect curve near the head of his length keeps catching on your g-spot - Reiner knows how to find it, he's hitting it too often for it to be an accident, angling his hips just so and matching each of your moans with one of his own. He must get off on watching you come undone underneath him, falling apart on his cock, you think, because you feel him pulse inside you every time you brokenly sob his name.
"This what you need? Am I giving you what you want, huh, sweetheart?", he rasps and it's not demeaning or teasing, he means it, he really means it- "Am I making you feel as good as you deserve?"
A particularly deep thrust has your toes curling at his back. "'S so good, yeah, feels so good, wanted you for so long-"
Your speech is slurring from the shocks of pleasure he's sending through you. Between the jolts to your cervix, the constant pressure on your g-spot, the way his body is rubbing against your clit with each rapid thrust of his hips - his lips on your neck and his grunts in your ear - you're going to cum again, you tell him, and he shoves himself up off the desk to stand upright. The change in position has your legs falling away from his back, and you scramble pathetically to adjust your hips so his cock will be deeper again, but his hands catch your thighs and easily overpower you. Both forearms slip underneath your knees, so your legs are hanging over his arms, and his hands grab either side of your hips to slam you back onto his cock.
"Holy shit- you feel even tighter like this, does that feel good? C'mon, answer me, tell me it feels good, please-"
"Yes!", you sob, and you can't give him any more than that because having your legs raised means he's right on your g-spot: all you can do is stare up at him through bleary eyes and admire how good he looks. His abs clench with every thrust, and his arms look so big holding your legs up like that. God, you're so close, just a little more - you reach down to play with your clit but Reiner pushes your hand away and pleads, "No-" and one of his hands slips around your leg to find it himself. Of course he finds it, you're so swollen for him, and he's rolling it between two fingers before you can clap your palm back over your mouth. You all but squeal his name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that - that's it, fuck, clench around me, please, want you to cum again, wanna feel you cum on my cock-", he says. You just barely hear him through the pounding in your head and the sound of your own desperate panting, and god you want to please him, you'd do anything for him, this is all for him, remember, so even though you don't know if your body can handle it, you nod. You shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep yourself quiet, the ones that he was dripping precum over when you stroked his cock, and you let Reiner slam into your g-spot and rub and pinch your clit until you're coming again.
Reiner doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop toying with your clit, he keeps telling you how perfect you feel when you squeeze him like that - you somehow feel and hear it all even though you can't understand anything other than the fire spreading through your nerves and into your limbs, consuming every part of you as he keeps fucking you - it's so intense that it doesn't last more than a few seconds, it can't, it's too much, you're starting to drool around your fingers when you come down - and then he tells you he's close in the loudest moan you've heard yet, and you're coming again-
You come back to your senses trembling, boneless and crying with pleasure. "Gonna cum for you.", he says, pressing down on where his cock bulges through your stomach. "You did so well for me.", and it takes everything you have to reach out for him. Reiner pushes your legs down to your chest so he can interlace his fingers with yours: you're almost sure you're still coming because your body spasms under him, your throat constricting in a soundless cry, but you don't take your eyes off him. He keeps you safe in his gaze for the final few thrusts, and then he takes your hand down with his as he pulls out, and together you stroke his cock so he can spill himself all over your stomach.
There's so much, you dully register. You don't watch because you're too caught up in his face, how his brow finally relaxes and his lips part so nicely, how he looks so at peace and so happy. You don't watch but you definitely feel his cum on your body. It's all over your stomach and chest by the time he finally stops stroking, finally opens his eyes again. It's strange: he must have fucked you so silly that you think he's looking at you like man in love.
A man in love, and covered in sweat, and exhausted. You smile despite yourself. "'S heavy. Get off."
Reiner lays a kiss to your forehead before doing as you say, leaving you to close your eyes and recover on the desk. He has a washbasin in the corner, you recall, when you hear the noise of water: he must be cleaning himself off. Then, the sound of footsteps, coming back towards you. He sounds tired and hesitant when he says, "...Do you want me to clean you...?"
For some reason, you blush. You've just had sex with Reiner - for his sake, you remind yourself, to let him know that it's okay to feel things again - and yet you're embarrassed over that simple offer. Then again, you only came here tonight to talk, to offer him some comfort on a day that you suspected had been a bad one. Sex is one thing: against the rules, but forgivable, a way for him to get rid of some of his frustrations and get his mind back on the mission. That's what you'll tell them, if they ever come asking. The intimacy of cleaning each other is a different matter entirely.
But no one ever has to know. Neither of you will ever tell the others that you're doing this, right? "Please.", you whisper, and you keep your eyes closed as if it makes it okay. Your brain is still heavy and fogged, but you don't miss how carefully and tenderly he touches you as he wipes you down - such a big man, being so gentle with you even now. You wouldn't blame him for asking you to leave now. In all good sense, this was a mistake, one that neither of you should speak of again, and it's in both of your best interests to move on as fast as possible. He won't have to know when you remember this night when you-
Reiner calls your name, and you reluctantly open your eyes. It's selfish, but you don't want this to end. He must have finished cleaning you and discarded of the washcloth, because he's already changed into a fresh pair of sleep pants, and he's holding up a shirt to you. You take it with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, Reiner. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come onto you. I've put you in a bad position and I really am sorry. I won't tell anyone that this happened.". The words pain you to say, but you know that you should apologise, and you give him a sad smile as you pull the shirt over your head. It's only when you catch the scent that you realise that this isn't your shirt - it's his. The questioning look you shoot him when your head pops out is met with a hand offered to you.
"I... meant what I said about wanting you. Not just for sex.", he says, although he looks scared to say it. "You mean more to me than that, you know. You make me feel like I'm more than what I've done. I know it's wrong, but-"
"-it's not wrong!", you blurt, and Reiner's eyes widen like he was expecting you to agree with him. "You are more than what you had to do, okay? I promise. To me, none of that matters, because I know you're a good person at heart. All of us know it."
That little interjection is exactly what you've been telling him for months. This might be the first time he looks as though he's beginning to believe it. You take his hand, smiling as much as you can even though you're still fighting the shame of what you just did, and Reiner says, "Stay here for a few hours - please. You'll sleep better, my room isn't as warm. Go back to your room before wakeup call. No one has to know.". He leads you to the bed and he lets you hold him, and you pretend that you don't hear him crying when he thinks you're asleep, or how he whispers that he thinks he might be in love.
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demigoddessqueens · 4 years ago
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Who Could Learn to Love A Beast?
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AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30709340
Tags: 18+, smut
You lifted your head from sharpening your weapon, distracted by the stead’s aggravated roar. That could only mean one thing. Your partner, in command and in affection, was returning after an unsuccessful search. Well, he’ll be in a mood.
The leader, and your lover, Seraphim angrily lumbered into the cave you two had begun to share, throwing his bident across the stone floor. He sat down on the makeshift thrown he created with an annoyed huff. Your voice seemed to alert him out of his soured mood.
“What happened? An unsuccessful raid?” He quickly glanced to acknowledge you before turning away with a huff. Sighing, you made your way over to the brooding demon. “You know you can talk to me, Sera. It doesn’t have to be suffering in silence. He let out one last huff before divulging into his worries.
“I just learned of two important events that denied me of a life, but I will not burden you with them.” You cupped his face in your hands and bore into his gaze. “You know you can talk to me, right? These aren’t burdens you have to carry on your own.”
That’s when he looked at you, truly looked at you. He saw no ill will or malicious intent in your eyes. You, a human who was an outcast like him and one he begrudgingly took in. He didn’t know why back then, but now he was glad he took you in. From stranger to friend to confidant, he appreciated you greatly and then some.
He took your hands into his and noted the difference. Such small ones that he cradled and treasured. You could tell he tried to conceal whatever was a bother to him. “I will, but for now i will not cast them onto you.” You decided not to push on any further but just be present for him. The demon lifted his head to hold your gaze again, but acted on what was driving him.
Seraphim’s clawed hands brushed over your shoulder. He pressed his lips to your neck, with an arm around your waist and the other that wrapped around your neck and hair. The demon leader wanted to make his intentions and feelings clear. You could feel him beginning to remove your clothes, nail and claw raking down your soft skin.
Returning the favor, you began to remove the fur and girdle that wrapped around his body and waist. Running your hands over his toned and chiseled body, admiring every inch of him. He titled his head slightly away from your gaze, trying to conceal the faint flush on his cheeks.
He continued to press kisses along your collarbones and shoulders as the final pieces of each other’s clothes fall away. Both of you are bare before each other, in all your vulnerability and letting your walls down. You move to straddle him, hands threaded in his snowy white locks, as his kisses become more desperate.
You moan as Seraphim begins to graze his canines against your supple flesh, hands tightly gripping your hips and waist. You feel his ever growing hardness pressed against your as you begin to grind against him, growling moans emitting from him. He shifts to where his cock teases your wet folds feeling slick on your thighs.
He wants this, to just surrender himself to something and someone. Just to be in a place where he feels comforted for once, and not subject to the harsh realities of his wretched life. Not being a slave to Hera or to his desire for revenge. And you give him that. You can feel him growl against your neck as he gently knicks you with his fangs. Seraphim begins to move his hips in time with yours, wanting to feel the friction between you. He’s still not so used to human touch and just wants to indulge in the moments he has with you.
You move your neck away from his teeth for a moment, only to return his own kisses to his lips. You can hear a faint moan mixed with his low growls. Gently cupping Seraphim’s face in your hands, you gaze into his eyes. “Make love to me. Give in and be with me.” Your hand moves from the sides of his face, grazing down his chest, down to his member where you begin to gently stroke and pump his twitching cock. He gasps sharply, and only offers a quick nod of acknowledgement.
You place your hands on his toned chest and guide him to lay down on the bed of furs beneath you both. You can feel his cock twitch beneath you in anticipation, the coil of desire ever growing within your core. Seraphim lets out on last plea, the desperation still tinged on his words. His clawed hands gently knead at your breasts, so soft and supple under his touch.
You look down at him affectionately only to be met with his intense gaze. Despite what the others have called him, demon or beast, you don’t deny the feelings of a man that lie beneath this exterior. Gently guiding his cock towards your entrance, you slowly lower yourself down onto him. You both gasp at your union together, his harsh gasp of pleasure such a reassuring sound to you.
You begin to slowly rock back and forth, admiring the delicious looks that form on his face. The cave soon fills with the sounds of your moans and groans. You grip tightly at his chest and shoulders as you being to slightly pick up the speed of your hips, bouncing up and down. You try to stifle the moans that escape you but to no avail. His growling ones mix with yours into a song of desire and passion.
You look at him while riding him. Fangs and hair that are caught in the light of the fire, his blue skin turning darker with the flush that covers his body. “You’re so beautiful... a vision that none...can...compare”, you moan as you thrust faster. Seraphim cries out at the pleasure you give him. “My love ...”, he chokes out between a growl and moan.
His grip on your breasts and waist slightly tighten as you clench your walls. You stare deep into those eyes, as you laud more praise. “ My love, my protector, my king.. .” He can feel his heart race at your words, and they only spur him on. “Yes, L ove me..be with me. .”, he softly moans in a tone of desperation.
You stare into each other’s eyes, admiring the gentle loving looks you shared. You stare deeply into his eyes before leaning forward and pressing a searing kiss to his lips, so much so it takes him by surprise. Kissing wasn’t something frequent between you two, not that Seraphim didn’t appreciate them, but the suddenness of your actions sends all of his blood down south.
His thrusts become more erratic as he pulls you close to him to where your foreheads press against each other’s. The demon returns your kiss, probably more so than he intended as you both whisper an “I love you” to each other. It’s not long until you both chase your orgasms, seconds within each other. For the briefest moment, you feel weightless and collapse against the demon’s chest, breathing heavily.
It wasn’t much of a rest before you both feel his cock stirring again, and you find yourself beneath the sculpted body of this rugged demon. Damn that supernatural stamina. His thrusts start off slow before he picks up the pace. The slap of your skin and breasts against him is a sound Seraphim will never tire of. He grips at the cave floor, not wanting to hurt you, while you hold tightly against him. Rutting like an animal, the overstimulation sends shivers down your body.
It’s not long until his hips shake and quiver, and he soon cums with a moan that purges all the emotions he’s held inside. A sonorous sound filled with lust and brokenness. As Seraphim comes down from his high, he falls to his side as the ragged breaths escape his chest. He soon pulls you close to him, where his heart was.
The intimacy and sound of his heartbeats soothe you in your aftercare. You feel safe in his arms, listening to his heartbeat and....was that a purr rumbling from his chest? So there was a gentleness under all that ferocity.
As Seraphim held you there in his arms, he felt himself suddenly overcome with fear. He knew he had affections for you, but now...it felt different. All consuming. Persevering. Determined. He was in love. In love with you. And that scared him.
Love was something that never came easy to this demon. For as long as he knew, because of the gods and the folly of man, he never knew true friendship or the love of his mother. And he never will. Yet he couldn’t deny what he felt for you and that’s why it scared him, because it could be taken or used against him at any moment.
He wanted to tell you about his mother. About Hera and her schemes but a part of him was afraid you would see him different afterwards. But he was also afraid Hera would use you against him, and he couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. He would tell you soon in due time, but for now, he just wanted the solace of you.
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krankittoeleven · 2 years ago
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WIP WED---ERM...THURSDAY! Was gonna post this yesterday, but I forgot.
This is actually a snippet from an as yet unshared Ubba/Vili WIP that I've been working on for way too long, but I want it to be complete before I post it since it's supposed to a one shot, but it's gonna end up in two chapters probably.
The general background for the fic is that it is set post game (yes, that means Ubba lives :D), with a similar head canon to WOL except that they don't hook up early on and instead spend a dozen or more years pining over each other and getting distracted by life like a pair of morons. I cannot write slow burn to save my life, but I can write the out come of it. LOL So that's what the fic is. That being said...this chunk of fic is totally out of context so none of that really matters to what you are reading right now. XD
Also, I don't know why, but I really love these two being in humorous situations at completely inappropriate times.
“When my father died Trygve was still full of life; you were never far away; Eivor was always coming and going; and I could trust Halfdan to have my back.  Even Ricsige wasn’t terrible in a pinch.  But now—”
Vili stands and paces towards the water.  Ubba can feel those imagined threads pulling at their knots.  One feels like it is nestled squarely in his stomach; tugging, aching.
“—now I feel like I have nothing.  Freya bless Trygve, but I worry about leaving him alone these days, even though I know he’s happy to warm the throne and see me off every now and then.”
“Vili, I—”
He what?  What could he possibly say?  Sorry?  It felt like it was too late for that.
“I will go to Jorvik and speak with Halfdan.  I will organize his men myself if I have to.”
Ubba stands, even as Vili is waving off his offer.
“I didn’t tell you to guilt you into fixing it for me,” Vili does not sound angry, but his frustration is close to it, “and I don’t need you to fix it for me.”
Ubba reaches out and takes Vili by the wrist, pulling him in close.
“I am offering exactly what I would offer if you had come to me for help.  Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
“You always seem so busy,” replies Vili, sheepishly, as he looks away to stare down at his captured wrist.
The tug at the knot in Ubba’s stomach grows more fierce as he sighs and places his free hand under Vili’s chin, lifting it so they are looking each other in the eyes.
“I am never too busy for you.”
Vili is smiling and shifting his head so that Ubba is holding the side of his face.
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
“There is no need to tha—”
Something whizzes past them, behind Vili—but only just—and splashes into the lake.
It takes a moment for Ubba to realize that the thing had been an axe.  In fact, they had already been moving to defend themselves before they had even known what they were defending themselves from.
Ubba scrambles to where their horses are tethered and where most of their weapons are.  He tries to stay low, but for him that was the difference between being a mountain and a slightly smaller, hunched over mountain.  Hiding had never been his strong suit.  
He splits his attention as he moves; watching where he is going and watching the nearby field.  It was the only place an attack could have come from without them having seen it coming; wrapped up as they were in their little world.  
When he arrives at the side of the horses Ubba eyes them suspiciously for not having noticed anything.  He unties their leads in case he needs to get away quickly, or in case the horses themselves need to escape theft or slaughter; if they would even bother to notice it coming.
“Do you see anything?” Vili asks from somewhere behind him.
Ubba looks back towards where they had been standing and at first he cannot see where Vili has hidden himself, but then he spots a bit of his cloak behind the fallen tree they had been using as a seat mere moments ago.
“No, they are hiding themselves well in the tall grass.  Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.  Bet you it’s a little raiding party of Picts.  I’ll eat this log if it’s not.”
As if in response an arrow lodges itself in the dead tree.  Vili quickly reaches over it and breaks the arrow off before it even has a chance to stop vibrating.  A furious groan floats up from behind the tree and then Vili is waving the feathered shaft of the arrow above his head.
“See, I told you!”
Another arrow lands with a thunk in the dead wood of the tree, this time a little closer.
“Lower your voice you fool,” Ubba says as he lowers his own and positions himself with the horses between him and the direction he thinks the attack will eventually come from.  He hates to use them like living shields but he is hoping that the Picts will find more value in keeping the horses alive should they be the victors. “How well do they know our language?”
“Some better than others,” Vili whisper-yells. “Some of the chiefs can hold a conversation.  Not many of the low level fodder.  Why?”
“I just want to know if it is a matter of them hearing us or actually understanding us.”
“Probably the first part,” Vili says, sounding fairly confident, “Besides, your horrible Dane pronunciations would throw them off, anyway.”
“My horrible pronunciations?” Ubba nearly yells.  As it is, his whisper is barely a whisper.  For a moment their predicament is nearly forgotten. “What makes yours so perfect?”
“It’s the language of the northmen, that’s literally my people.”
“The Dane-march is north of many places.”
“But not Norway.”
Ubba does not need to see Vili to know that he is smiling.
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teddy06writes · 3 years ago
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Who Knew Being A Youtuber Was Dangerous
requested by this anon: "Okay last one I promise…. I think. So CC!Dream x Bodyguard!Reader or reverse the roles, whatever works. Premise: Dream starts going to conventions and needs to be protected from all the antis and obsessive fans. But Dream didn’t know his bodyguard was gonna be attractive…"
dream x reader
trigger warnings: some swearing, yelling, general violence/threats
premise: The first vidcon after Covid has finally arrived, and with his face newly revealed, Dream's getting a bit worried a bout how a week in California will turn out, so, he (lets be real it was his manager) hirers you and your team for protection
{Also reader has implied military background}
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"You didn't tell me that they were coming all the way out here! I thought we were meeting them in California!" Dream argued into his phone.
You leaned against the rented escalade, watching as he paced back at forth.
One of your partners half leaned through the passenger seat window, "Sir? We're going to be late if you don't wrap it up!"
The man in the driver seat tapped his thumbs on the wheel anxiously, "I can handle politicians, I can handle CEO's, hell I can handle regular celebrities'- but youtubers? Dude why?"
You looked back at him, "Don't complain, he's paying bigger bucks than anyone we've had in years."
"I know but-"
You shook your head, cutting him off as Dream approached the car, "I'm sorry- I just thought I wasn't getting your services until I landed in California."
You shook your head, "You've still got to get through two international airports, and your flight. We'll be going along with you throughout the duration of your trip, but that won't happen, if you don't go get your things so we can leave on time."
"Yeah-" He sighed, "I'll- get my bags."
Shaking his head, Dream hurried back inside, grabbing his things before sending Sapnap a panicked snap 'sap help the body guard is hot'
When he got no response, he sighed, pulling his things out of the house and locking up behind himself, "You know for body guards you are dressed awfully casually."
You sighed adjusting your windbreaker, as you grabbed one of his bags to put in the trunk, "We're supposed to blend in. People might think it's suspicious that you need body guards, they could... plan things."
"And three extra people traveling with me isn't?"
"Smith and McAllen aren't going to be with us, with us. Within range, sure, but not following you around. You're going to be telling people I'm just- a friend or something- your life was private enough it would blend in." You reported, closing the trunk and moving to open the other door for him.
You moved around the car, climbing into your own seat, "Let's move."
~~
The airport was fairly crowded, but you navigated through it carefully, avoiding the biggest groups of people and instructing Dream to keep his hood up.
After almost two hours of anxiety, you had finally boarded the plane, tucking your backpack under the seat in front of you.
"Where'd the other two end up?" He asked quietly.
"Smiths on the other side of the row, two up, and McAllen's behind us." You reported.
Dream nodded, and the two of you settled in for take off.
Nearly an hour in, and you could tell he was getting bored as he leaned over, "So how does one end up doing body guard stuff anyway?"
You shrugged, "My contract was ended early.... I was looking for a job, retaining all my previous work experience, and I stumbled upon this agency."
"It's strange that it's even a real job."
"It's strange that playing a video game is even a real job." You shot back, grinning.
"How do you know what type of videos I make?" He asked skeptically.
"Well I have to make sure a client is legit before taking a legal offer, right?" You chuckled.
~~ The flight was nearing at end, finally, and you went over the plans again, looking over the layout of the airport on your tablet.
"What're you doing?" Dream asked.
"You never get tired of questions do you?" You sighed.
He frowned, "Sorry..."
You sighed again, "We're supposed to plan the routes around every fucking building you go into. We have a plan, we stick to the route, we keep idiots like you safe from anti's and crazy fans."
"Crazy fans?"
"Well you only just revealed what you look like, you've never been mobbed in public," You explained, "You can never trust what a obsessed person would do. That's how John Lennon died."
"Really? You're citing the Beatles on why your looking at airport maps?"
"You literally hired me for this!"
~~ So far, vidcon had been uneventful on your part, and you found yourself back in the old routine of standing off to the side, in hallways, or generally out of the way as your client did his thing.
The same lie had been told millions of times by now, Dream's partner, that's how the internet knew you, and lies grew, but all you had to do was walk along side him, nothing more.
Your partners could normally just explain away being assistants or managers working with vidcon organizers.
"Someone on twitter started a conspiracy thread that 'dream and (y/n) are not a real couple, I found so much proof this weekend'." Sapnap laughed.
From your place at the other table you nearly choked on your sandwich as Dream began to wheeze.
"why is this getting traction!?!"
"Someone added to the end," Smith reported, looking up from his phone, "Their debating if it's real, fake, or if the person made the thread cause they were jealous."
You took a sip of your water, "I can't wait till this is over, then we'll break up and the stans will forget about me."
Dream laughed, "That's too bad, I was thinking of taking you guys on full time."
You sighed, shaking your head, pretending to be annoyed, "Oh no, being paid to fake date some cute famous guy."
"You think I'm cute?"
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, "Hurry up, we've gotta leave in ten."
~~
You were halfway through the convention center when suddenly you began to miss all that standing around.
As usual movement through the convention center was tough, but this time the crowd seemed different, particularly as someone near the back began yelling about something.
You scanned the crowd, and the woman seemed to lock onto you, "You! Yeah you! Who the hell do you think you are?"
You glanced back at McAllen, who nodded, starting to move to the side, Dream following, ever so slightly.
"You don't get to date him! How could you stoop that low Dream?"
More yelling erupted from the crowd, and someone seemed to charge forward.
You immediately took charge, grabbing Dream's arm and pulling him along with you as Smith hurried forward to block the man.
"What the fuck is going on?" Dream asked.
"Shut up, and stay behind me." You hissed turning down a side hallway as all hell started to break loose in the convention center, a single gunshot ringing out.
"Shouldn't you be going to stop that?" Dream asked as you and McAllen hurried him down another corridor.
"Job for the police, not us." You muttered, "Exit's through here, lets go."
From behind you, there were more shouts, something about stealing Dream.
“Motherfucker, these people are insane.” McAllen muttered.
~~
Somehow, you’d managed to get Dream out of the building, double back, and also collect Smith and Sapnap on the way.
Running on pure adrenaline, you’d then helped anyone else, evacuating civilians as the police worked to talk down the shooter.
By the time you had arrived back to the hotel, finished making statements and refusing to answer a frat deal of questions from father fans, you were about to collapse.
“I thought your job was just to get me out of there.” Dream said, looking up as you entered your room.
“I did.”
“And then you went back in.”
“I help people, okay?” You snapped, “Normally this job doesn’t include being shot at because I have to fake date someone who I’m protecting.”
You sat down heavily, “just- gimme a minute to breath. You’ve made my job more complex than it needed to be.”
“With my dashing good looks?” He laughed.
You rolled your eyes, “I mean with the amount of trouble you’ve caused me we might as well be actually dating, then I might benefit more.”
He grinned, “I just might take you up on that.”
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dapandapod · 3 years ago
Note
24 or 34 for the hug prompt 💖🥰
24. wanting to hug but your ignored 34. hug to prevent a fight
Alright, you asked for mean so here goes. Let me tell you right now, I made myself SO mad writing this. Like, properly pissed off. I want you all to mind the tags, because this dude is an asshole and not shy about it. Thank you @kuripon for the beta, you are wonderful and I love you <3
Warnings: swearing, insults, sexual inuendos and name calling, (not the nice kind) Geralt is so, so stupid (but eskel saves the day don't worry) and sad, sad Jaskier. please mind the warnings
Send me a hug prompt? (I can be fluffy too I promise)
On Ao3                 Hug collection here
“So tell me bard.” The man on the other side of the bar leans over the counter with another three or five men leering behind him. “How did you earn your keep tonight? Fucking or singing?”
Jaskier blinks and frowns, sensing Geralt and Eskel tensing next to him.
“Excuse me?”
“You know?” The man makes a very lewd hand gesture. “Or maybe even…” And now he mimics a blow job.
“Sir, I will let you know, I am a world-famous poet and highly sought after bard. I earn my keep just by stepping into the building.”
Jaskier doesn’t want to brag, but this man either doesn’t know who he is talking to, or knows exactly who he is talking to, and neither option is good.
“Oh yes, the master Dandelion, known for his silver tongue. You use that in many ways, I hear.” The man wiggles his eyebrows and his friends behind him laugh. So he knows, then.
“Don’t speak to him that way.” Geralt stands up behind Jaskier, a looming, angry presence at his back. Some of the men take an involuntary step back, but the man talking just smiles wider.
“Ah, there he is! Butcher of Blaviken! Tell me, who pays who in your arrangement? The bard whore, for you to stick around, or the Butcher, wanting to get his dick wet?”
This time, Eskel stands up, putting himself between Geralt and the man. Turns out to be a good idea, because Geralt is growling, baring his teeth.
“No, Geralt,” Eskel murmurs. “It’s not worth it.”
“Bard fucking you both? Huh, you gotta be good then. How much for a go?" the man asks, licking his lips as Jaskier feels his eyes run up and down his body.
Jaskier feels nausea at the back of his throat. This is not the first time someone has come on to him like this, but usually the witchers don’t get to hear the worst of it.
Geralt lunges forward, but Eskel catches him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides.
“No, Geralt. You go upstairs and bring Jaskier with you. I’ll take out the trash,” Eskel mutters, turning to look at the asshole who suddenly realizes exactly who he’s been messing with.
Geralt growls again. Really, that man needs to learn some words instead of sounds, but he tears away from Eskel and glares.
If the heckler is found dead tomorrow, nobody would doubt for a second who did it.
“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt says angrily, but doesn’t touch him like he usually would. Doesn’t let his hand rest on his shoulder, or offer comfort at his back.
“Hope you got enough coin, witcher! I hear he is famous!” the man yells, and Jaskier feels himself flinch and shrink in on himself.
They walk up the stairs when the first yelp of pain is heard, and more chairs scraping against the floor. When Geralt closes the door to their room behind them, Jaskier is sure he hears the heckler being thrown outside.
It feels better, but not by much.
He sits on the bed, arms around himself, feeling pathetic and hurt. All he wants is someone to wrap him up in a hug and make him feel less dirty. Preferably Geralt, but that is a dream forever dreamt. Geralt paces back and forth in the room, restless and agitated.
“I’m sorry,” Geralt says finally, stopping and looking down at him. Jaskier looks up, sure that his every emotion is showing on his face. As predicted, Geralt’s expression scrunches up and he drags a hand through his hair.
“I won’t touch you anymore,” Geralt says, and it hurts more than anything the man downstairs could ever have said.
Jaskier looks down on his feet again, before nodding and standing up.
“I’ll go see if I can have a bath drawn,” he says, and then flees out the door.
There is only so much he can take.
~
Geralt is unsure of what to do now. He paces back and forth, trying and failing to find something to do. It didn’t feel quite right, the way Jaskier left. He had said it to make Jaskier feel better, because obviously being associated with him put Jaskier in trouble. Geralt will never understand what he did to deserve him, but he doesn’t want to make Jaskier's life harder for knowing him.
Maybe he should go downstairs. Maybe he will feel better if he gets a good punch in on the asshole. He is about to head downstairs, when Eskel comes in and looks around.
“Where is Jaskier?”
“Bath,” Geralt mutters, absolutely not pouting about the fight already being over.
“Fair. I would want a bath too if I got that shit thrown at me.”
Geralt says nothing, just sits back down on the bed and fiddles with some loose threads on his tunic.
“Maybe I shouldn’t travel with him anymore,” Geralt says, regretting it the moment he opens his mouth.
“What? Why? Did Jaskier say something?” Eskel says, frowning and sitting down on the chair by the work table. He has his own room further down the hall, but it feels good to have his brother here now, to not be alone.
“No, but if being around us, me, will make people say such things to him, maybe he is safer if--”
“--You didn’t actually say this to him?” Eskel interrupts, sitting up ramrod straight.
“What? No, I only said I wouldn’t touch him anymore.”
“You..?! Oh my actual-- GERALT! You are such a fucking imbecile sometimes! Do you have cabbages for brains?!” Eskel stands up again, and he is the one pacing the room this time. A family trait, it seems.
“What? I just wanted to comfort him,” Geralt asks, getting increasingly self conscious.
“You fucking, UGH. No wonder you are still pining your asses off for each other! Geralt, if someone called you a whore, and then your best friend says he won’t touch you any more and wanted to go on separate ways, how would that make you feel? Fuck, why do I have to do this?!”
“Oh.”
“Yes, Geralt, Oh. Now you go the fuck down to Jaskier, this moment, and give him a hug. Melitele knows he could use it.”
Eskel more or less pulls Geralt off the bed and throws him out of his own room. Geralt turns to look back at him, but Eskel slams the door in his face.
Well then.
Geralt walks down the stairs to the bathing room, not even knocking before stepping in.
Jaskier sits fully dressed still with his face in his hands, staring with eyes watering, completely ignoring the steaming bathtub right next to him.
When he notices Geralt he looks up, and his eyes are so full of hurt and hope that Geralt could kick himself.
He opens his arms, and Jaskier is up from the bench. Three steps later he has thrown himself into Geralt’s arms, drawing in a ragged breath.
Maybe Eskel is right. Maybe the way to protect Jaskier is not to pull back, but to pull closer.
And the way Jaskier clings to him right now, maybe he will be allowed.
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sunnyville36 · 3 years ago
Text
Mamihlapinatapai {part 5}
I am so excited to share the last part of this story with you.  It means so much to me to be able to share my work and have people enjoy it, so thank you to everyone who has read this little fic.  Huge shout out to the extremely talented @fizzydrink698 for being an inspiration to my writing and an all-around sweet and supportive human.  And the biggest thank you of all to my beta reader, @harry-on-broadway, for being the most encouraging and wonderful friend, without whom I never would have had the confidence to write this, let alone put it out into the world. 💜
Hope you enjoy the finale of Mamihlapinatapai.
Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4}
Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader
Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn
Warnings: smut, emotionally abusive parents, usage of degrading names
Rating: Mature
Word count: 6k
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As Soft As Petals  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day
It was late into the evening, maybe even so late it was actually early, and you were standing outside the prince’s door, frantically knocking on it.
“Y/n, what’s happened?!  Is everything alright?”
You walked straight into the room, not even bothering to wait for Chan to invite you in.
“It’s my mother.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I assumed she went with a separate wagon party the way she came when we left Lajor, but everyone in the servants’ quarters says they haven’t seen her in hours and I’ve looked everywhere I can think of and - “
“Shh, shh, Y/n calm down, it’s alright,” Chan said, taking your hands in his.  You were full on hyperventilating at this point, your body starting to physically shake with worry.
“I-I just… these past few weeks I almost lost you and then we almost went to war and I can’t handle not knowing where she is.  I just can’t imagine what I’d do if she - ” your voice caught in your throat, unable to bring yourself to say your worst fear.
“I know, I know, but it’s going to be alright,” Chan soothed.  “I’m sure she’s fine and we’ll find her, but you are in no state now to continue looking for her.  Why don’t I ask a few of the guards to keep searching the palace grounds, and I’ll send a rider to Lajor to make sure she would have made it back with us?”
You looked up at him.  “You would do that?”
“Of course, Y/n, this is your mother we’re talking about.  We’ll do everything we need to until you know she’s safe,” he said, guiding you gently with him towards the door, knowing you wouldn’t want to let go of his hand based on the vice-like grip you currently had on it.  He leaned his head out into the hallway, calling for one of the guards stationed at the end and relaying what he wanted done to continue the search for your mother.  All the while you were watching him with an expression of awe and gratitude.  It still surprised you, how he seemed to know exactly what you needed, and even more so that he was willing to do whatever it took to do it for you.  He walked you back into the room, taking the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you,” you breathed out, still catching your breath from your moment of distress.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gently, leaning down, his lips ever so slightly grazing the crown of your head.
You felt a shiver run through you.
“Your Highness,” you lifted your head to say something, hoping to avoid talking about what he had just done, but were stopped in your tracks by the look on his face.
“I was actually hoping to see you tonight.  I need to tell you something, Y/n.  And you might not like what I have to say, but I can’t keep denying it for the rest of my life.  These last few weeks have shown me that I can’t take anything for granted, so I intend to stop right now.”  He paused and stood up, giving you room to stop him if you wanted, but when you remained silent he took that as permission to keep going.
“I’m in love with you.  I think I always have been.  I’m in love with the way you hum that same silly tune to yourself when you’re doing chores.  How you can read a map of any terrain, how you’re not afraid to correct me when I make a mistake while drilling our sword fighting techniques.  I’m in love with the smile you get on your face when you ride through the woods and the way your hair looks when the light shines on it through the trees.”
You were aware your mouth was slightly open, your eyes staring at Chan like a dumbstruck deer, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the words he was saying.  You’d always known you still had feelings for him, and could only dream he reciprocated those same feelings.  But hearing him say all the little things you didn’t even notice about yourself, hearing him say he loved you for those things, your mind was at a loss for what to do.
“I love how you care for our people, how you always have their best interests at heart.  How you would be willing to never speak about these feelings I know we both share so as to not jeopardize your ability to serve me, to serve them.  But most of all I love that you see me.  Not the statesman or the fighter or the ruler, just me.”
You made up your mind then.  To hell with the king’s threats, with the questions your mother had asked you about responsibilities and sacrifices.  You had been making the greatest sacrifice of all for the last sixteen years, but no more.
You launched yourself at him, his arms wrapping around you immediately and your lips meeting his.
It was somehow exactly like that night five years ago and nothing like it at all.  You’d both grown in experience since then, having had other partners over the years.  Your lips moved smoother against one another’s, and it was more passionate than it was gentle.  But you felt that same feeling of euphoria glowing inside you, knowing that you were here with him and he was here with you and you were both finally admitting to what you’d always felt but never dared to acknowledge.  You felt yourself sinking into him, willing to let the tide of his love carry you away if it meant you could stay in this moment forever.  Your lips parted from his, Chan titling your head up to look at him.
“I need to hear you say it.  I need to know that you love me, too.”
You took his face in your hands, willing your voice to convey how sincere you were.
“I love you Chris.  I love the way your hair is always ruffled in the morning and that you sing to yourself when you think no one can hear.  I love how you take three cubes of sugar with your tea instead of two.  I love your determination to better yourself and your dedication to better your people.  I love that you have always treated me as an equal.  I love your dimples and your eyes and the way you make me feel safe when my hand is in yours.”  You brought your thumb up to wipe away a single tear that was sliding down his cheek, his eyes shining as he listened to your words.  “It has always been you, Chris.  It will always be you.”
He smiled then, that same blinding smile that had bound you to him from the day you met.  He kissed you again, then began moving his lips down the side of your neck, your head tilting back to allow him more skin.  His hand reached back and in a few quick motions the laces of your bodice were loose enough for your dress to fall off your shoulders.  He kissed downwards over your chest, and your breath hitched as the dress moved lower and lower, eventually dropping to the floor, leaving you almost bare for him.
Your hands came up to thread through his hair as you mocked, “You are entirely too clothed for my liking, Your Highness.”
At that, Chan whipped his shirt over his head, exposing his soft skin and toned abs, then pulled you to him, tone light but face serious. “I never want to have to hear you call me that ever again.”
“Chan,” you laughed, lightly smacking his chest, “what we’re doing right now is staying confined to this room; I’ll still have to call you that in front of everyone else.”
“Fine,” he all but growled, “I will settle for never hearing it in this room.  For now.”  His lips returned to pressing featherlight kisses to your jaw and found your sweet spot below your ear.  A sigh escaped your lips as Chan lifted you up and placed you under him on the bed, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back as he shed the rest of his clothes and removed the final layer separating you from him.  You could feel his hardness against your dripping core and you looked down, holding in a moan when you saw how big he was.
“Ah ah ah,” the prince purred, “I don’t want you to hold anything back tonight.  I have waited so long to have you like this, and I want to hear every sound that falls from your lips.  I want to know how good I make you feel, Y/n.”
Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn't hold back the sinful sound that left you as he brought his mouth to suckle and nip at your breast, his hand reaching down to rub the pads of his first two fingers against your heat.  Slowly, he increased the pace and the pressure as he kissed down your body, bringing his head between your thighs.  You moaned when you felt his tongue lick a long, languid stripe up your core, then brought your hands to tangle in his hair as he stroked small circles against your sensitive bud.  Desperate for him, you pulled his head back up to meet yours, back arching as you whimpered, “Please Chris.”
He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, the feeling of him against your walls far better than you’d ever imagined.  Being this close to him, feeling his cock reach places inside you you hadn’t known could feel this good, the intimacy was almost overwhelming, so you clung to him, reveling in the feeling of being with the man you loved.
“How did I get so lucky?” Chan was whispering, praises falling from his lips.  “Fuck Y/n, you’re so beautiful, an angel, my perfect girl.  Taking me so well, like you were made for me.”
“I was,” you breathed out, “all of me is yours Chris, only yours.”
His thrusts increased then, both of you teetering on the edge of your highs.  You captured his lips in another burning kiss, sealing your love as the ecstasy coursed through you both.  You laid there for a few moments, relishing the weight of his body on yours and the quiet sound of his heartbeat.  Then Chan rose and fetched a cloth to clean you both, your body already starting to succumb to the pleasant exhaustion.
When he returned to the bed you heard his voice whisper one last I love you before you drifted off in his arms.
Runaway  |  Kingdom of Miroh, 28 years ago
The girl had been running for two days.
She’d prepared her knights and her attendant, told them the story she’d fabricated for them to repeat, and paid them handsomely for the trouble she was surely causing them.  Her parents would be frantic, but eventually they would mourn her and move on.  The kingdom would survive without her; in fact, it had to, because she knew nothing would ever make her return, force her to take on a responsibility she never asked for nor wanted.
Only five more miles to the border, she thought.  Then I can start over, be whoever I want to be.
By the time she reached the marker for Gu, she could barely stay upright, having taken as little rations with her as she dared.  She wandered across, hoping some small border town would be close by where she could eat, maybe get some rest.  After another few miles some buildings started to pop up, small cottages and what looked like a market and an inn.  The girl squinted at the prices on the inn’s sign, trying to remember the conversion rate of the currency she’d brought with her.
“Hey!  I saw you come in to town; you look a little lost.  Can I help you find anything?”
The girl realized the voice was talking to her, and turned to see a boy about her age, maybe seventeen, tall with shaggy brown hair, looking at her curiously.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the boy said.  “It’s just… you seem to be having a little trouble reading the sign and I-I’m uhh... pretty good with numbers; I could help you, if you’d like?”
“Oh umm… yes… p-please… thank you.”
The boy walked closer, the girl showing him the money she had so he could count out the equivalent of the price.  “So, is your family visiting from Miroh?”
The girl balked at his perceptiveness.  Despite all her planning, she hadn’t thought about what she would tell anyone when they asked for her story.  She tried to come up with something quickly, stumbling over her words.  “Umm no, m-my parents are… they’re uhh… they died.”
“Oh, I-I’m sorry to hear that,” the boy said, looking at her sympathetically, and the girl felt like he really meant it.
“Well, umm, here’s what you’ll need for a night’s stay here,” he continued, handing her back the money.  “If you want I can show you a good place to eat that’s close by; you look like you could use a hearty meal.”
Despite knowing him for all of two minutes, the boy seemed trustworthy.  And he was right, she could definitely use some nourishment.
“That sounds nice,” she answered.
“Great!” the boy said, stepping down from the inn’s doorstep and walking towards the village center, the girl following.  “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.  What’s your name?”
“My name’s Julietta.”
Revelations  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day
You awoke, startling for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings until you remembered what had happened the previous night.  Smiling to yourself, you turned in the sheets, expecting to see Chan laying beside you, but you were met with emptiness on his side of the bed.  You frowned, scooting over and feeling the spot still warm from his body.
He must have only just left, you thought.
You glanced over and noticed a small note sitting on his bedside table, letters written in his artful penmanship.  You picked it up, eyes running over the words.
Good morning my love.  How I wished to have you wake up in my arms, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.  I’ve gone to speak with my father about something, and when I return, the whole kingdom will be able to hear my name spoken by your beautiful voice. 
A wave of dread washed over your entire body, threatening to pin you to the spot where you sat.
Chan knew his father could be cold, knew he was a callous man who cared for little more than his own self-interest and what he deemed acceptable.  But you knew he’d always believed maybe he could change the king, could open his heart to the same degree Chan and his mother had shared.  You, however, never saw the man through such rose-colored glasses, having been the recipient of his threats and intimidation too many times to believe he could be redeemed.  And your beloved prince was about to find out the true depths of his father’s loathing towards the relationship you shared.
You sprung into action, body moving without thinking as you dressed in last night’s clothes and ran from his chambers, heading to the throne room.  Maybe you could reach him in time, spare him the pain of hearing his father’s rejection.  You’d have to convince him you didn’t want to bring your relationship public, and he’d be hurt, devastated, but it would be nothing compared to the anguish of what he was about to bring on himself.  Or the punishment he was about to unknowingly inflict on you.
Chan was nowhere to be seen in any of the hallways leading to the throne room.  Your feet moved faster, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen.  But when you burst through the thick oak doors, you saw Chan kneeling at his father’s feet.  Both men looked up to face you, Chan’s expression one of blissful optimism, his father’s one of knowing anticipation.
You were too late.
“Hello, Y/n,” the king said darkly, mouth morphing into a sneer.  “You already know what he’s asked me, don’t you?”
“Your Majesty… please...”
You shuddered at the sound of your own voice, tone betraying your agony, your fear.
“You never told him, did you?” he questioned, the trace of pity in his voice making you all the more uneasy.
“How could I?” you sighed.
The king nodded contentedly, then motioned for the guards on either side of you.  You felt their hands capture your arms, body going all but slack in their hold.  You couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore.
Chan had stood up and was now looking frantically between you and his father.  “What is the meaning of this?!” he asked, tone laced with bewilderment and shock.
“I’m sorry Chris,” you murmured, heart breaking at the look on his face.
“Christopher,” King Bang said, standing and approaching his son, “do not fear.  I will take care of this disobedient whore and then you will be free of her influence.  I should have never let her remain for as long as I did, look what it has done to you, my ingenuous boy.”
You felt it, the moment Chan realized what his father was implying.  His whole body shifted, backing away from Geun as he spoke, voice void of emotion.
“What did you just say?”
For once the king seemed genuinely surprised, eyebrows raising and voice the tiniest bit unsteady as he answered, “I-I mean, certainly that’s the only reason you would ever come to me with this request.  Clearly this woman has convinced you to denounce what I’ve taught you about tradition, about knowing one’s place, through what means I dare not say; but I don’t blame you Chris, this is my fault.”
Chan stopped moving then, having almost reached your side.  His face contorted into an expression of dismay, of grief, as he shouted.
“Are you really so ignorant, so far removed from reality, that you think my actions are a sign of disloyalty?!  Of neglecting my responsibilities?!  Because they are nothing of the sort.  And even if they were, Y/n would not be responsible for convincing me to do anything.  Your outdated principles and misguided sense of your own virtuosity could have done that on their own!  You were blind to a plot happening in your own palace because of your desire to have me bend to your will, but I won’t let you do it anymore.”
He turned, ordering the guards, “Release her, now!”
“You will do no such thing,” the king’s enraged voice rang out.  “Christopher, you will never get my permission for this.”
He turned back to Geun, eyes furious but voice calm.
“I was not asking, father.  I will marry her.  And I am not betraying you, or our kingdom, or our traditions.  And I’m not doing it because she seduced me.  I’m doing this because I love her.  Because she supports me, and cares for me, and knows our people intimately, probably better than I do.  And because, for my whole life, she has been the only person besides Mother who has ever truly loved me for who I am.  So you’ll have to throw me in prison too if you intend to stop me, because I refuse to be here without her.”
“No!” you yelled, straining against your captors, energy rushing back to your body at his words.  “No, Chris please, you have to let me go!  I’m so grateful we had last night; it was the best night of my life and always will be.  I knew the consequences I might face, and getting to tell you how much I love you was worth every one, but you were never supposed to suffer because of me.  I can’t let you do this.”
Your pleas were interrupted by a herald entering the room.
“Your Majesty - “
‘WHAT?!” King Bang whirled on him, outrage blatantly evident on his face.
While the king was distracted, Chan shoved the guards away from you and took your shaking form into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.  “Y/n, you’ve protected me and sacrificed for me my entire life.  Let me be the one who takes care of you now.”
His whispers stopped when you heard the announcement of the herald.
“His Majesty King Peter Soleil of Miroh is here with his wife, Queen Margaery, as well as one of our palace servants, Julietta, Your Majesty.  They are insisting on an audience with you.”
“Your mother?” Chan questioned, meeting your equally confused face with his own.
The king glanced to where the pair of you stood, rolling his eyes obnoxiously.  “Fine, bring them in.  Let these two have their last embrace before I rid us of her presence.”
The herald opened the doors, and there stood your mother, dressed in a beautiful gown you could tell was made for royalty.  She entered, followed closely by the king and queen of Miroh.  You’d seen them a few times over the years at various palace functions.  They seemed like steadfast and benevolent leaders, reflected in their small kingdom’s reputation for nonviolence and generosity.  In fact, the only turmoil you could remember them being involved in was the disappearance of the crown princess, several years before you were even born.  Not much was known about the circumstances of the disappearance, but it was said the king and queen had never given up hope of finding her.
They came to a stop in the middle of the room, the sovereigns flanking your mother.  Looking at the three of them, you couldn’t deny the resemblance of your mother to the elder two people, and a memory stirred in the back of your mind.
“King Peter, Queen Margaery,” King Bang addressed them tersely, “I would say I am pleased to see you but I am at this moment engaged in a personal matter and would like very much to return to it.  If you could please explain why you have one of my palace servants here with you playing dress up, I would appreciate your cooperation.”
“Certainly,” came King Soleil’s placid reply.  “We are here on a personal matter as well, one that Julietta, and indeed Y/n, are involved in.”
Chan’s arms tensed around you, preparing to defend you against any allegation, any harm or threat or danger to your wellbeing.  But, as had happened once before in that very room, no one was prepared for what the Mirohan king said.
“You see, Julietta is our daughter.  Almost thirty years ago, she left our kingdom, because she felt trapped in a life we had not prepared her for.  Her mother and I should have supported her, should have taught her to confide in us, but we were very different people then, and different rulers too.  We would have done what you are attempting to do to your son, forced her to betray her own self to mold to our will.  However, when she left, we saw how wrong we were, and vowed to do better.  Now, Julietta has come back into our lives for the sake of her daughter, our granddaughter, Y/n.”
Every set of eyes in the room was trained on you, your own frozen wide in disbelief at what was happening.  King Bang seemed to be at a loss for words, having fallen back into his seat on the throne.  Your mother left her parents’ side and walked to you, smiling tentatively.  Chan reluctantly released his hold on you as she took your hand and brought you to stand with her away from the others.
“My dear, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, and I am sorry, so very truly sorry for never telling you,” she said quietly.  “But I was ashamed… When I ran away, I did what I thought I needed to do at the time.  Looking back it may have been reckless, irresponsible and selfish even.  But most importantly, it had been my choice.  And I took that from you, the ability to choose what path you wanted in life.  I thought we would be better off away from the life I grew up in, and for a while we were, with your father.  But when he died, I was adrift and had no idea what to do and somehow we ended up back in a palace and at the whim of an arrogant king, but this time without even an inkling of the power I once held.  I thought about returning with you to my parents then, but how could I be sure you wouldn’t resent me for forcing you into the life I had tried so desperately to escape?  I struggled with my choice for years, until eventually I saw that you were happy with your training with the prince, getting to do all the things you used to do with your father that would have been scorned had you been the one in the boy’s position.  But then I saw the signs of your feelings for him, your realization of the insurmountable barriers that would prevent you from being together, the way you resigned yourself to unhappiness.  I knew I could do something about it, but I had to be sure you were ready to accept the responsibilities that would come with having the ability to be with the man you loved.”
You looked up at her, recalling your conversation at the coronation, and she nodded.  “I am sure now.  Which is why I went back to Miroh, back to my parents and the position I despised a lifetime ago.  Because if I can give you the ability to make this one choice, maybe I can make up for all the other mistakes in my life.”
“Mother... “ you started, wanting to tell her you understood her choices, that you didn’t think they were all a mistake, but were quieted by her hand on your cheek.
“I know you are quick to forgive, just like your father, but let me take responsibility for this.”
You looked back at your grandparents.
“They won’t force you to accept,” Julietta said.  “That was my one condition.”
Your head was spinning with the onslaught of new information.  Searching the room, your gaze locked with Chan’s, reading the utter adoration in his eyes that you knew mirrored your own.  You knew his father would never accept your relationship at your current status.  And despite feeling confident you wanted a chance to make an impact as a ruler, you didn’t know everything about what it would mean to take on this responsibility.  But there was one thing you were absolutely certain of.
You turned back to your mother, squeezing her hand.  “Thank you.”
She led you back to the group, your hand linking with Chan’s as you came to stand beside him and your grandparents.
“We are aware of the young people’s affection for each other…” King Soleil began, but King Bang seemed to have recovered himself enough to realize what the other was about to say.
“That girl will NOT marry my son!”
“Geun,” your grandfather warned, “that girl is my granddaughter, a Mirohan princess.  I strongly suggest you watch your tone when you speak about her in front of me, or anywhere for that matter.  Now, it was already quite unreasonable to want to prevent your son from marrying a woman he loves, but it would be wholly irrational of you to deny a match for the prince to the heir apparent to the throne of Miroh, wouldn’t you say?”
You stood up straighter, feeling Chan’s hand tighten around yours.
The king was silent for a while, but finally gave an acquiescent sigh.  “Very well.”
The two of you smiled but kept your composure, bowing to the king and turning to your grandparents.  They pulled you both in for a hug as you thanked them, saying they were eager to get to know their new grandchildren, and your heart skipped a beat at those words.  You didn’t hear anything else after that, your focus entirely mesmerized by Chan who was pulling you towards the door, your pace quickening before breaking into a run as you left the castle, heading for the stables.  You rounded the building first, then felt him reach around your waist as he gathered you in his arms and spun you around, laughing his brilliant laugh and pulling you close to him as he placed you back on the ground by the pond.
“Does this mean I have to call you “Your Highness” now?” he asked, giggling at your stunned face from the use of the term.
You playfully put your hands up to shove him, but he captured them in his own, kissing your knuckles and bringing your palms to rest on his chest.  You could feel his heart beating as you knelt your head to meet his and heard his soft voice ask.
“Y/n, will you marry me?”
You had never been happier to say yes.
Epilogue  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 year later
You were standing in front of the mirror, your mother behind you pinning your hair into an extravagant twist when a joking voice came from the door.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  You turned to see the smiling face of the queen of Lajor.
“Korenna!” you exclaimed, dancing happily in place, too afraid to move while your mother continued her styling as your friend came to sit next to you.
“You look stunning, Y/n, truly.  Chris is going to lose it when he sees you.”
Chris, your mind echoed lovingly.  You’re marrying Chris today.
“And how come I don’t get a hello from my favorite little princess?” you teased.
“Paige is a bit preoccupied practicing her petal tossing abilities with her Uncle Felix,” her sister responded.  “She definitely has the upper hand in technique, but I’m not sure who looked cuter in the flower crown.”
“Speaking of flower crowns,” your mother said, turning you to face her, “Chris left this for you.”
You looked down at her hands where she held a sealed letter, on top of which rested a single wildflower.
Your mother saw the tears prick in your eyes and started to gather up her things, motioning to Korenna.  “Let’s give Y/n a moment before the ceremony while we - Oh! Your Majesty, my apologies, I didn’t see you there.”
You turned to see King Bang milling awkwardly at the entrance of the room.  Putting the gift from Chan down, you ushered your mother and Korenna out then came to sit in front of his father.
The two of you had avoided each other as much as possible over the last year, which hadn’t exactly been hard since you had moved with your mother to Miroh to catch up on all the instruction you’d missed these past twenty-three years.  You’d seen him at the Four Kingdom Competition and at various dinners and balls, but Chan always made it a point to keep you as far away from him as possible.  You weren’t going to complain about it to your fiance, but you’d almost wished he’d let the two of you talk, tension clearly still lingering between you.  And though this visit was unexpected, considering you were going to be family after today, now seemed just as good a time as any.
“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”
“Actually, Y/n, I-I came here to apologize,” the king said, his voice sounding almost as taken aback as you felt.  “I have spent my whole life avoiding saying that phrase, but I realize now you are one of the few people I feel I really must say it to.”  He took a deep breath before he continued.  “I’m sorry for the death of your father, I’m sorry for my insults and threats over the years, and I’m sorry for trying to keep you and Christopher from being together.  I had no right to try to do that, whether you were noble-born or not.”  He paused, and you could tell it was getting harder for him to keep his voice steady.  “After my wife died… I had this blind rage I felt towards everyone, but especially towards you, and when I finally took the time to analyze it, I realized I had been jealous.  Jealous of your skill and your talent, but mostly jealous of my son’s devotion to you.  This year has shown me that I was wrong to think his love for you would turn him away from me or his responsibilities; in fact, his happiness at being with you has only strengthened our relationship and made him a more present, more thoughtful ruler.  So I came to apologize, and to thank you for bringing the light back to my son’s eyes.”
You were stunned, but grateful, and the king seemed to read that in the expression on your face.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, “I just wanted you to know.”
You stopped him before he could leave, placing a hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”
He nodded and shut the door, leaving you alone.  You turned your attention back to the envelope on the desk and gently opened it, unfolding the paper in one hand and holding the blossom in the other.
Y/n,
Since the beginning, my love for you has grown like the roots of a flower.  Even on this day, we are but tiny buds, only just beginning to sprout.  I look forward to every day we’ll spend in the garden, tending to our love until we reach full bloom.  And just as flowers slowly fade, may we grow old together, enjoying the memories of those sunny days when we used to ride through the meadows we planted.  Know that my love for you will remain long after our petals are reclaimed by the earth, my beautiful wildflower.
Yours forever,
Chris
You held back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, placed the flower in your hair behind your ear with trembling hands, and walked out to meet your mother standing at the entrance to the courtyard.
She took your arm in hers as you made your way to the aisle.  You saw Minho and Felix on the right, both grinning from ear to ear, and Korenna and Paige on the left, the younger’s sparkling dress and tiny braid matching the elder’s.  And in the center you saw Chan, looking to be on the verge of tears, but his blinding smile on full display.  Your mother walked you to him, your gown glinting in the light of the setting sun.  He took your hand in his and held it while the priest recited the hymns and blessed your marriage, pronouncing you husband and wife.
Later, while the celebration was in full swing inside the ballroom, the two of you made your way out to the balcony.  He took you into his arms, both of you swaying to the music floating out on the breeze.
“You look breathtaking tonight,” Chan whispered.
“You told me that earlier, Your Highness,” you responded, wiggling your eyebrows at the term he used to hate, recalling the conversation you’d had the first time you shared a dance on the balcony.
“I know,” he said smiling, catching on to your words.  “I wanted to tell you again.”
You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him before whispering, “We’re married.”
“I know that too,” he responded, the two of you giggling and bringing your foreheads together.  He reached up to tuck your hair that had come loose behind your ear, revealing the flower, and you let the feeling of peace wash over you, knowing you had a lifetime together.
“I love you, Chris.”
“I love you too, Y/n.”
{end}
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jostepherjoestar · 4 years ago
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Do the Stardust Crusaders prefer an adorable or sexy s/o?(not poly, like what does each member prefer? also i hope this made sense)
Stardust Crusaders and their preferences HC’s
suggestive // gn reader
So this one made me think a little since in my opinion your fave will ALWAYS like you no matter what! So instead of only going by “adorable or sexy” let’s widen it up and delve a bit deeper into their preferences personality wise and style wise :D (ofc u will always be their favourite dw 😌) Kakyoin and Jotaro are kept sfw!! 💖✨
Avdol
Avdol is such a kind and understanding soul but still never afraid to voice his opinion in an earnest manner. He’ll appreciate that sentiment in his partners too, open to many ideas and understanding others’ way of thinking.
He does enjoy someone who’s a bit rowdy or playful to help bring out that side in him. Being silly together and just overall heightening the playful atmosphere really puts him at ease.
That’s the exact reason he secretly loves a little bit of chaos around him. Avdol himself is calm and determined but drama and unexpected events always seem to follow him. Don’t worry though, he loves being able to stride in and show off his abilities he’s so proud of!  
Be sure to work on your debate skills though, the man is a whole library of knowledge and if you end up in a discussion he needs you to be able to offer your substantiated opinion. If you talk him into a corner, be sure to soften the blow to his ego with lots of hugs and kisses afterwards 😌
Style-wise the man doesn’t have strong preferences. Earthy tones and a natural flare complement his own style very well though, so he loves a bit of a scholarly look as well. Show up in a long coat and cute glasses carrying some cool old books you’ve found and he might just swoop you off your feet hehe!
If you wear a minimalistic set in the bedroom- think dark burgundy, chocolate, burnt orange, he cannot take his eyes off of you. He’ll treat you like the absolute present you are while he unwraps you 😏  
Polnareff
Let this man spoil you for the love of all that is good!!!
He has SO much love to give and he will shower you by the bucketload so you better enjoy his antics! He thrives off of complementing you, albeit with the cheesiest lines, anything to see your cheeks flush. Also expect lots of cute gifts!!
If you’re a bit clumsy, get embarrassed easily and are a bit shy... Polnareff will never let you go, he’s so smitten by the way you stand behind him so often while meeting new people as he chatters away. He’ll pull out his best charming jokes to get you to laugh and when he sees how cute you are trying to hide your smile he’ll come smother you with kisses.
Loves it when you go along with his jokes and impulsive nature but prefers it if you’re a bit more responsible, the man struggles with self control so needs some guidance and someone to hold up the stop signs.
He will also look up to a more dominant person just as much, wanting to make sure he does everything to be on his best behaviour to please you. But he never looses that cheeky side and loves getting reprimanded for it. (not just in the bedroom, daily life as well) So make sure to keep that leash tight ;D!
Ok as much as I hate to say it... this man’s style tastes can be a bit tacky. If you like pink he’d love to see you in anything cutesy and frilly, perhaps to a worrying degree. Be sure to gently steer him to your own choices, he’ll forget all about his own ideas if you show a bit of skin anyways. This man is too easy to distract for his own good 🙄
Oldseph (forgive me Suzy Q 🙏)
Because he is the way he is *sigh*, he loves being yelled at for his antics. Joseph will never stop acting like a child no matter his age, that youthful sparkle always present even as he has started to take life a lot more serious.
Boss him around a little too much and he’ll pick you up just to smirk at you until you shut up. Eye-rolls are the dead give away that you like him and he’ll gladly accept them along with the annoyed sighs.
If you reside on the other side of the spectrum- playful and offering a childlike wonder too, he’ll take it all the way. Everyday is a silly playdate, joking around, showing off, any way to impress you and pull you along into the fun.
He LOVES vintage clothes, the fifties are his favourite era style wise and adores it when you dress the part. Joseph ain’t no chump so he’ll always offer to pay the deft fees of authentic vintage pieces. Hell, he’ll even fly you overseas if there happens to be a special item on sale that you’ve been eyeing.
Just like Polnareff, he loves to spoil you. Indulging your every need, even when you’re grumpy or mad at him. It’s his life’s goal to make those droopy corners shoot upwards with his dumb jokes and antics.
Stroll up in nothing but stockings and garters and he’s dead. Good job you killed the un-killable Joestar! But before his soul ascends the mortal plane he’ll ravish you, sure to buy you a new pair that’s even prettier.
Jotaro
As we all know this edgy dude doesn’t love loud annoying people. But here’s a secret he’ll never audibly let slip: if he sees you holding yourself back, trying not to be “too” much of anything he might not like... that next yare yare is him admitting he doesn’t mind it, as long as you don’t start yelling. He’ll actually enjoy your excitement, quietly of course, sure not to let others onto his amusement of your cuteness.
If you share his interests (marine biology, reading, nature in general) he’ll feel a bit more inclined to talk about them, just a smidge. Jotaro enjoys listening to you talk about your passions though, even if they differ from his. That intent stare taking in the way your eyes sparkle, that cute smile making butterflies flutter in his stomach.
Even though he loves going on walks, admiring nature and inhaling the fresh air, he is a secret homebody and would love it if you shared the sentiment. Lounging on the couch in comfy clothes, quietly enjoying each other’s presence while doing your own things, just basking in the shared space.
Since this is SDC Jotaro, he’s in the early stages of his love for showing off his accessories and he likes it when you do too. Just a couple of small hints at your likes through cute pins or a small chains.
He likes to be stylish but is by no means that into fashion, he knows what he likes and sticks to that. But if you’re a bit more of a fashionista he’ll share his opinions on louder outfits that attract a lot of attention. Just don’t take it too personal, he means well 😬
Likes you best in your comfortable pj’s, wrapped up like a cute burrito in a dolphin blanket 🥰
Kakyoin
As much as the jokes get made, if you’re the mom friend, he’s constantly trying to do right by you. A doting nature that still lets him be independent will make him go 🥰😍!!
Love and kindness towards others is so endearing to him, and if you’re not afraid to speak your mind openly, he might have to confess his love right this minute. He won’t be shy in letting his liking for you show either, offering charming jokes and compliments whenever you’re near.
And if you share his dry genZmemer humour, gently starting to drop hints that you’re not afraid to be a bit edgy you become his ultimate favourite person.
Because of his introverted nature, he likes someone who is a bit more independent as well, offering yourselves time and a comfortable pace to move in throughout the relationship.
He also greatly admires a strong need for justice and loyalty to a cause, it shows integrity and intelligence. That fiery passion in your eyes invigorates him just as much!
Kakyoin loves elegance and something that complements your features, no matter what style. He does have a bit of a thing for having matching colour palettes or at least ones that complement each other.
Cool gem tones are his favourite; emerald, ruby, sapphire...the list goes on.
At home though...get him a random shirt with a ridiculous slogan or phrase and he’ll wear it till it’s barely hanging on by a thread. Make him one too, a plain white shirt with a scribbly drawn frog or a meme-y phrase! He’ll wear it forever, being reminded of his love for you every time he laughs at the visual 😊
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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago
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Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)
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Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.
A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo
Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 
“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 
See, I stand corrected. 
Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 
“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 
Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 
And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 
“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 
It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 
. . .
“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 
After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 
While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 
“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 
“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 
As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 
“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 
“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”
I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 
But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 
“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 
Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 
“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 
The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 
First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 
Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 
He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.
The photo booth.
The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 
. . .
I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 
That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 
To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.
Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 
Six Months Ago ...
My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 
“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 
“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.
A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”
“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”
“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”
Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 
“Penny?” 
As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 
She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 
Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 
The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 
How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 
It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 
My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 
Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 
If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 
Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 
Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 
“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”
I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.
“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 
“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 
Hold me.
Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.
“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 
“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 
“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 
“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 
Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.
“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 
To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 
That is if he’d let me. 
“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 
As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 
That was the last time I would see Spencer. 
People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 
There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.
If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.
I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.
What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.
I didn’t go that day. 
I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.
I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 
I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 
“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 
“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 
“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”
I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”
“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”
For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 
“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 
“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 
“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 
“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 
My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 
The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 
But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 
I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.
Present Time ...
In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.
Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 
What a gentleman, huh?
“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 
Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.
My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 
. . .
Icarus. 
He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.
‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 
I flew too close. 
I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 
“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 
She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 
“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 
I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 
“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 
I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”
“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 
“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 
“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 
I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 
I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 
“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 
“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.
“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”
. . .
Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 
The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.
“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 
Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 
It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 
Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 
The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 
It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 
Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 
If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 
“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 
“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 
Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”
His lack of an answer was one itself. 
“Did he say anything at all about me?”
“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 
This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 
Not by Spencer. 
“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.
If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 
“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.
For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 
As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 
“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 
By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 
“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 
“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 
It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 
“Hard for you?”
“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 
“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 
“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”
His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 
As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 
I was done chasing Spencer.
His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 
“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 
It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 
“(Y/n), wait!” 
And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 
I was free. 
_ _ _
To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 
Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 
I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 
I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.
The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.
I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.
As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 
What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 
I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 
I just don’t know if I can.
No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.
I love you. 
I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 
He was still here. 
I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 
“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 
“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 
I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 
“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 
“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”
“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 
“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 
The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.
“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
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triplexdoublex · 4 years ago
Text
Sex Drive part 2
Pairings: Colson x Reader, Colson x Reader x Rook Reader x Rook
Warnings/tags: smut, unexpected exhibitionism, threesome, double penetration, anal, choking, hair pulling, mild spitting, humiliation, jealousy, being walked in on
Authors note: Being wet DOES NOT = consent irl, just had to put that out there as it may seen I’m suggesting that in a certain scene, Kells is just saying sexy shit and reader is 100% consenting.
Part 1 here
*************
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without sex the whole month,” you tease with a giggle as Colson secures his black flag bandana around your eyes from behind you. “Can’t even make it two more weeks, huh?” You tease.
He roughly grips your jaw, turning your head to speak into your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember giving you permission to talk,” he grits through his teeth as he strips your body bare. “Now, walk!” he commands, pushing you forward.
“Oooh where are we going?” You question playfully.
“Don’t worry about it,” he quips, shoving you through the doorway of the adjoining hotel room, unbeknownst to you.
Once inside the room he quickly removes the bandana from your eyes and tosses you down on the bed before you have a chance to view your surroundings.
“Colson?” you push yourself up on your hands confused. “This isn’t our ro — Jesus Christ!” You shriek when you take notice of Rook sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees with both hands wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle between his legs, his eyes scoping out your naked frame. “What the hell is going on?” You look quizzically between Colson and Rook while clutching a pillow over your exposed body.
Colson looks proud of himself, smirking as he watches your face morph through a series of reds, settling on the brightest. If there was one thing stronger than Colson’s jealousy it was his humiliation kink. He loved the way you blushed and got all shy and flustered whenever you got embarrassed, and he couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing for you than one of his best friends seeing your most intimate areas… and perhaps even touching them — with your permission of course.
“Is someone gonna answer me, what’s going on?” You repeat.
“Well I figured with all the times I’ve caught you checking out Rook I’d give you the opportunity to fuck him.” Colson answers nonchalantly.
“Colson I thought we established I was only checking him out to make you jealous so you’d be more rough with me,” you remind him. ‘Ok maybe the use of the word ‘only’ was stretching the truth a bit,’ you think to yourself. You know damn well that wasn’t the only reason. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Rook attractive. “That’s why I’m punished, ‘no dick for a month’ remember?”
“That’s not what I said — I said you’re not getting MY dick for a month. You’re welcome to have Rooks….while I watch of course,” he smirks.
As if that was his cue, Rook stands and walks over towards you. He places his half drunken beer on the nightstand and takes a seat at the foot of the bed.
You swear your heart stops beating for a full ten seconds before you can form words. “Have you gone insane!? You want me to fuck Rook...while you watch?” You question in shock, certain he has lost his damn mind.
“Well, I mean, you’re free to say no… but let’s be honest, we both know that you won’t,” Colson sits on the bed next to you and snatches the pillow covering you from your grasp. “Just look at that pussy, glistening!” He prys your legs open to show Rook just how much the whole idea already has you absolutely dripping. “Now does this look like the pussy of a girl who’s about to say no?” he runs a finger through your slick folds gathering your arosal and turns to Rook who just bites his lip and shakes his head.
There’s no hiding the fact that you want this, you’re more shocked at how into it Colson seems, but he’s right, you certainly weren’t gonna say no.
“Don’t be shy, come have a taste Rookie,” Colson taunts holding out his glossed finger. Rook moves further up the bed, opposite colson, one boy now on each side of you. He leans in and extends his tongue curling it around the silken thread of your excitement stringing from Colson’s finger, and pulls it into his mouth.
“Whatcha think bro, how she taste?”
“Mmmm, fuck! Amazing actually!” Rook exclaims, smacking his tongue against his lips, savoring your essence. “No word of a lie bro, some of the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, ya lucky bastard.”
“Yeah?” Colson’s chuckles at his enthusiasm. “Well help me get her warmed up a little, then she’s all yours,” he says gently stroking your clit. “Although she clearly doesn’t need it,” he jokes, amused by how wet you are. “But something tells me she’ll enjoy both of us playing with her for a bit. Ain’t that right baby?” He smirks, looking at you.
“Please,” you squirm under Colson’s touch and the anticipation of Rooks.
Slowly Rook begins trailing the tips of his fingers up your inner thigh, inching closer to where to want it most before finally joining Colson’s. They join forces , sandwiching your clit between both of their fingertips as they work you methodically.
“Oh, fuck,” your voice shakes, a cocktail of nerves and pleasure coursing through you. As good as it feels and as much as you want it , you can’t help but be a little anxious, it’s been a long time since anyone but Colson has seen you naked never mind touching you like this. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” you moan breathily arching your back up off the bed.
“Relax slut, this just the beginning” Colson leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples as he glides his fingers down to your entrance. He easily slips in two of them, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your warm heat with every curl of his fingers; Rook now having solo reign over your clit. Colson’s free hand grips your breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. Rook follows suit attaching his mouth to your opposite breast, making sure to leave soft violet markings in his wake, claiming you, if only for the night.
“Alright, I’ll let you take over from here,” Colson says to Rook, slipping his fingers out of you. “Be a good girl for Rook,” he grips your chin smearing your juices along your jawline before retreating to the oversized chair in the corner, where he begins palming himself through his jeans. And like a shark to blood, Rook is drawn to your scent, his mouth moving up your chest, and neck, devouring your slick remnants with open mouthed kisses, while he continues to massage the sweet spot between your thighs.
“You taste so good,” he smiles against your mouth before kissing you. His tongue prods at your lips , begging for entrance. You part your pout welcoming him inside; your tongues beginning a do-si-do. He feels so foreign in your mouth; taboo in the best way.
“Yeah?” You break the kiss. “Why don’t you taste it straight from the source,” you say seductively.
“Yes ma’am. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Rook smirks before disappearing between your thighs.
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Colson chides from the corner of the room, freeing himself from the confines of his bulging jeans. Slowly, he strokes himself in rhythm with Rooks tongue fucking in and out of you, watching as he gathers your sweetness on his tastebuds.
“Mmmmm, God—“ Rook huffs in unbelievable enjoyment against your core, before attaching his lips snugly around your clit, providing it with gentle pulsating suction. It’s different than you’re used to — Kells being more of the rapid tongue flicking type— but damn, if it doesn’t feel equally as good.
“Uhh, yes! Just like that, Rook. Don’t stop!” You exclaim in pleasure; one hand gripping the sheets, the other the back of Rooks neck.
Hearing you say Rook’s name like that has Colson squeezing his cock harder and faster, his jealousy unintentionally tightening his grip. He’s enjoying watching you be pleasured but can’t curb feeling possessive, in fear that perhaps you’re enjoying this a little TOO much.
“I still... Mmm...can’t… get over… how good you taste,” Rook speaks between open-mouth kisses to your tenderness. “I swear I could eat you as my last meal,”
“Dawg, keep talking to my fucking girl like that and it WILL be your last meal,” Colson half jokes, his jealousy peaking for sure — now beating his dick as if it were Rook. “How ‘bout you just shut up and fuck her now, before I change my mind.”
“Ready?” Rook questions with a smirk ,from between your thighs.
“Ready!” You squirm impatiently, already missing the contact of his tongue .
Quickly, Rook strips off his leather vest and other clothing until he’s completely naked. Just as he’s about to get settled between your legs Colson pipes up again from the corner.
“Baby I want you to ride him, lemme see those titties and ass bounce for me while you fuck yourself on his dick.”
“Mmmm hell yeah! I wanna see too,” Rook says excitedly, moving to lay on his back; arms behind his head.
“You’re pushing it Rook!” Colson warns.
“Baby, chill,” you giggle at how flustered Colson’s getting. “I know this pussy only belongs to you,” you turn facing him, spreading yourself open. Colson groans at the sight, his eyes momentarily slipping shut as he tries not to bust right there. “Besides—,” you smirk. “This was your idea.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon… less talking, more fucking,” Colson orders.
You climb over Rook who’s waiting with cock in hand pointed towards the heavens and squat over him, hovering just above the tip before sinking down to the hilt with a moan. You push back up, and come down fast, your skin echoing off Rooks with a slap.
“Ugh fuck!,” Rook sits halfway up to mouth at your breasts and neck as you continue to bounce in his lap.
You turn your head back slightly to watch Colson, his teeth sunken deep into his bottom lip, eyes so intensely glued to every roll of your hips, and his hips thrusting up to fuck into his own palm. You turn back to Rook and pick up the pace riding him harder and faster knowing Colson’s close to finishing. You don’t know what burns more the desire inside of you or your thighs, but you don’t stop, determined to make both men and yourself cum at any moment now.
“Oh, Rook!” You cry out with your head thrown back and hands planted firmly on his tattooed chest. You’re so so close.
“Ahww, shit, you gonna cum?” Rook questions out of breath. “Me too.”
Just then the hotel door clicks open “Hey, Rook have you seen Kel— WHAT THE FUCK!!” Exclaims Slim completely caught off guard by what he’s seeing, bringing you and Rook to a halt. “Girl, I know you think it’s cute to make Kells jealous and shit so he’ll choke or whatever crazy shit you’re into but you took it took it too far this time, cuz Kells about to choke both you to DEATH when he finds out.”
“Yo! Why the fuck does everyone keep talking when I’m tryna cum?” Colson yells annoyed and on the edge from the corner of the room.
“Kells???” Slim questions peering around the door. “Da fuck is going on in here? Ya know what, second thought, I don’t wanna know. I— I’m just… I’m just gonna go,” Slim states in utter shock and confusion as he backs out the door.
“Good idea, try fucking knocking next time maybe? Rook shouts after him.
“Fuck, my legs are killing me!” You huff as soon as you hear the door click shut, shifting your weight onto your knees. Immediately, Rook takes over, snapping his hips up and into you from below.
“Aye, I can’t take this shit no more my hands about to fucking fall off, lemme get in there,” Colson says getting up from the chair and kicking off his jeans and boxers. He tugs his shirt over his head and climbs behind you on the bed. He spits in his hand ,coating his cock with his saliva, then brings the tip to the only hole not currently occupied: your ass. You’re no stranger to anal; it is Colson’s favorite afterall. You welcome the penetrating stretch as he pushes in. It’s slightly awkward at first as the boys figure out and establish a rhythm that works for all three of you. Their cocks pound in and out of you in unison; one in each hole, providing you with the most pleasurable, satisfying fullness. “Unh, baby so fucking good for us. Taking it so well,” Colson praises you through gritted teeth . “You like being a little whore for us like this, huh? Rook fucking your pussy while I fuck this ass?” He asks crudely with a hardy slap to your backside.
“I fucking love it — YES! Treat me like a fucking whore!” You exclaim in wild passion, as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.
“Oh we’ll treat you like a whore alright!” Colson speaks through his groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair using it as leverage to pound into you harder.
With your head yanked back in Colson’s grasp, Rook takes advantage of the unoccupied column of flesh above him, wrapping his hand tightly around your throat. The way both boys have you feeling like a used plaything has you cumming in seconds, riding out wave after wave. The noise they make as you clench around them both is like heaven; Rook’s slightly louder and high pitched than Colson’s deep throaty rumble. They cum almost in perfect time with eachother; with Colson just a few seconds sooner, filling your ass with his warmth, as Rook pulls out, busting his load up onto your stomach. The three of you collapse into a sticky sweaty mess, both boys rolling to your sides; the air thick with heavy breathing and the smell of sex.
The way Rook looks completely spent and fucked out of his mind is hilariously adorable; still trying desperately to catch his breath, his leg visibly twitching and shaking and his hand running through his sweaty hair with a ‘did that really just happen?’ expression on his face .
“You ok there buddy?” Colson’s laughs, reaching over you to give Rook’s arm a tap with the back of his hand. Colson’s used to having crazy sex with you by now.
“Umm ...I think so.” He releases a long winded breath followed by a brief chuckle.
“You know what my favorite part about this was?” You turn to Colson. “I broke you!!” You tease.”Not only did I get Rook’s dick but I got yours too! Slim was right when he said you wouldn’t last through my punishment with your sex drive!”
“For the record, I said you weren’t gonna get my dick in your PUSSY, for a month. Now correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t that your ass I just fucked? Nice try, you’re still punished.”
*******
Tag list: @dannyboy-trash (won’t let me tag you) , @famousobservationfan @blxxdyvalentine19xx
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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years ago
Text
Moment In Time
Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.
Warnings: None
Chapter 10 - Final Chapter
******
‘S.O.S’. 
Three letters make your heart drop to your stomach. They also make you jump off your couch, practically sprinting up the steps to your room. Throwing the closet door open you go straight to the back and grab your uniform, making quick work of putting it on and grabbing your equipment before you leave. 
Making a call to one of the men in your life who wouldn’t hesitate to look out for you, Nick Fury. He doesn’t waste a second arranging the transportation you need and in little to no time you’re saying a quick thank you to him as you walk onto the jet. 
Before you take off, you send a reply, ‘omw’.
Those three letters bring a smile onto Natasha’s face. She isn’t surprised that it only took half an hour for you to reply, in fact it’s one of the main reasons she messaged you of all people. 
Looking up from the watch on her wrist, she says,“ don’t worry fellas, we’ll be out of here in no time.” 
The two members of her team in the room look over at the redhead. She has a confident smirk on her face and that makes everyone curious. 
Given their current situation of being holed up in this single room in the base of their enemy as said enemy plans whatever it is on the other side of the door, they didn’t see much reason to be confident.
Steve huffs, hands planted firmly on his hips as he continues to pace the room as he tries to form a plan. Sam picks at a thread on his pants, no doubt waiting for a plan to follow. 
But one wasn’t needed. 
It took half an hour for you to reply and another hour before you got there. 
Your presence was first made known to Natasha. Her watch vibrates and she looks down to find a winking emoji on her screen. 
She rolls her eyes, holding back a laugh and stands up, preparing to leave. 
A moment later there’s a knock on the other end of the thick metal door. 
“Please stand clear of the bombay doors.” The voice is deep but she knows it’s you. 
Not saying a word, she steps to the far side of the room. Sam and Steve both frown, but follow suit. 
A faint hissing sound is heard, followed by a small but steady flow of smoke around the door, then it creeks before falling off the hinges. 
It slams against the concrete floor and you step through the dissipating smoke. 
Your eyes flick over the three people in the room and you smile.“ For a bunch of prisoners, you look good.” You tease, eyes lingering on the redhead. 
Steve walks up to you, holding his hand out for you to shake.“ I wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side of the door.” 
“Well I’m nothing if not unexpected.” You pat his shoulder.“ Now, let’s get out of here shall we?” 
The three follow you out of the cell and down the halls, noting the unconscious bodies of the guards they were previously walked past. Sam and Steve are close behind you, Natasha behind them. 
She finds it beyond adorable how your gaze continuously falls back on her. The look in your eyes lets her know you’re checking on her. 
Very reminiscent of the first day you two met, Natasha watches you work your way through this enemy base, taking down the few guards who interrupt your path. 
You stop on the way to get their confiscated weapons back and then you’re out of the building. 
A fire fight quickly approaches. Enemies pour from the building as you escape, each of you returning fire. Not a single bullet on your end is fatal but it definitely debilitates the targets.
One glance back however, reveals a group larger than you expected. It was like watching clowns climb out of their little cars. The facility didn’t look anywhere near big enough for all those people to be inside. 
“New plan. You three move ahead to the jet, I’ll lead them away.” Instant words of protest come from the three teammates at your words and you roll your eyes.“ We can’t keep running and lead them to our getaway. I’ll be fine.” 
With no room to protest, you break away but not before planting small explosives on a few trees ahead of you. You blew the charges, the trees falling and cutting the enemies off from following the three. 
You don’t get a chance to boast about that going just as you planned, because you quickly notice a presence at your side. When you look over you’re tempted to stop running. 
“Natasha what the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be with Sam and Steve.” 
Shots continue to ring out behind you, the hightech weapons your enemies have burn holes in the trees around you.
“Dammit.” You pull out your communicator, connecting with the jet you flew here and you’re pleased that Steve answers.“ I need you to bring the jet to me-” you pause and look to your side,“ to us.”
He doesn’t hesitate in agreeing. It takes much more running, some retaliation shooting, and a few more mini bombs. In no time you break from the tree line, a small group of enemies still on your trail as the jet lands a few feet away. 
You think you’re in the clear, your shots effectively chipping away at the few enemies who still come. But your foot is barely in the jet when Natasha gets hit. 
It’s like everything slows down. You watch her fall to the metal floor of the jet, her exclamation of pain is loud and clear in your ears, and once it’s over your heart pounds. 
Snapping back in an instant, you pick her up, quickly moving her to lay on the chairs off to the side as you shout for Steve to take off. 
You rush to grab a cloth big enough to cover her wound, then press it against said wound. 
“Hey Romanoff, keep those eyes open.” You pat her cheek, looking into her eyes as they already start to droop.
It’s unclear if she’s losing a lot of blood, the cloth doesn’t seem to be taking much on but she’s quickly drifting off as if she is.
You try your best to remain calm, watching her eyes flutter shut and not open back up despite you calling her name and shaking her. 
“Rogers, pick up the pace!” You don’t mean to shout like you do but your worry skyrockets. 
It doesn’t go away either. While it only takes a short half hour to get back to the compound it feels like forever. The wheels of the jet are barely on the ground before you’re opening the jet doors and carrying Natasha out. 
You rush her to the medbay, Dr. Cho and the rest of her team coming over instantly. She has you set Natasha on a bed and they roll her away. Dr. Cho asks you what happened after you tell her she disappears after Natasha. 
You’re left standing there, heart pounding as you wish more than anything that she’s okay. 
With nothing left to do, you step back into the designated waiting area and you sigh. 
What do you do when the woman you love is injured and rushed to emergency? You worry, and hope, and you stay by her side unless absolutely necessary that you leave.
Since the moment you landed you were right there in the waiting room, pacing back and forth while Natasha was in surgery, hoping with all hope that she’d be okay. Even after her surgery, having been informed that everything went smoothly, you were planted firmly in the chair right beside her bed once again hoping. 
You didn’t move, keeping her hand clutched in yours as you waited for her to wake up. Your worry, that had gone away when she came out of surgery, returned when she didn’t wake up. Dr. Cho said she was fine, minimal blood loss and they were able to use their fancy tech from Ultron to patch up the wound, so why she wasn’t waking up was lost on you.
As the team flows in and out of the room over the course of the passing hours, you know their suspicions regarding you and Natasha were coming to a head. 
They’d been speculating for weeks. Watching as Natasha and you snuck around. The two of you never slipped on the PDA side of things but they’d been around Natasha and you enough to notice something was up and connecting the dots became easier as they saw you at her bedside. 
It’s not until the second day of Natasha still being asleep that you leave. Steve coming in and telling you that you should go get some proper rest, freshen up, and that Peggy was asking for you. To you, the first two reasons aren’t good enough to leave but if Peggy was asking for you, you couldn’t ignore it. 
So reluctantly you do so. Heading home to take a quick nap, showering and changing, before you go to see Peggy. 
During your visit, Natasha wakes up. Wanda and Steve are in the room, chatting away as her eyes slowly open. The first thing she notices when her eyes adjust to the bright lighting is that you aren’t here. 
It’s odd because she swears you were, she could feel the weight of a hand wrapped around hers and if there’s one thing she’d gotten used to over the past ten months, it was the way your skin felt against hers.
“Wh-” she clears her throat and pushes herself up to sit, ignoring the slight tightness she felt at her side.“ Where’s Y/n?” 
Steve’s and Wanda’s gazes snap over to the redhead, their eyes widening as they realize she’s awake. 
“Nat, how’re you feeling?” Steve asks, moving his chair closer to Natasha. 
Wanda does the same on the other side of the bed, her worried gaze flicking over the woman who she’d grown to see as another mentor.
“I’m fine Steven.” She waves his question off like it’s nothing, her eyes moving over to Wanda who she assumes will answer her question.“ Where’s Y/n?” 
The younger woman frowns a little,“ she went home to rest and get clean.”
“Yeah she wasn’t keen on leaving you.” Steve adds, Natasha noting the knowing look he gives her.“ She stayed right there until earlier when I told her Peggy was asking about her.”
“And this is exactly why.”
Every head in the room turned to the door, eyes watching as you walked in with a bouquet of flowers. Nat immediately smiles, heart warming as she sees you. 
“Hey stranger.” You wink at her, finding your previous seat and laying the flowers on the bedside table.“ How are you?” 
She sighs, fingers twitching towards you as she aches to feel you touch now that she’s awake.“ I’m okay. Side is a little tight but it doesn’t hurt too bad.” 
You smile and nod,“ glad to hear it. Thought you were a goner.” You joke making her chuckle. 
Her eyes roll, a quiet laugh falling from her lips. 
The two of you keep your eyes on each other and Steve looks away as if seeing something he shouldn’t. Subtly he nods to Wanda, who has long since been aware of yours and Natasha’s relationship, and the two leave out. 
 Once they’re gone, you scoot closer. Like magnets yours and Natasha’s hands find one another, fingers lacing together and squeezing. 
“Next time I tell you to move ahead, you move ahead.” You say to her, not once breaking eye contact.
After having gone hours without seeing that beautiful green you refuse to look away. 
She shakes her head.“ We were under way too much fire, I was not leaving you alone.”
The corner of your lips quirk up at that, your heart warming at how much she cares for you.“ I could’ve handled Romanoff. What I couldn’t have handled was you being fatally injured.” Your expression shifts to something more serious.“ Not coming home with you, not telling you how I truly feel. And knowing I could’ve changed that outcome. I would’ve been crushed.” 
“That wouldn’t have happened because we had each other’s backs. We always do.” Her hand squeezes yours.“ And I’m right here. So there’s no reason not to tell me how you truly feel.”
It was a deep dive, a free fall even to try and get it out of you. Being in love with each other for ten months and not saying the words didn’t seem to make a difference when it came to you and Natasha. Not when it was shown in every action.
You both know how you feel, despite there being no labels on this or yourselves, it was clear as day that you love each other. But Natasha wanted to hear the words, almost as badly as you wanted to say them.
She watches you, the way your gaze drops for a moment and despite not seeing your eyes she knows you’re debating it. When you look back up she smiles because she sees you’re going to tell her. 
“I think it’s pretty obvious I’d been living in a limbo of sorts, stuck between my past and worrying about the future. But you, every second with you, I never once worried about those things. I’ve never felt a need to dwell in the past or worry about the future when you’re my present.” 
Her eyes roll in an overly dramatic way.“ Say the words Y/ln.”
You frown at her rushing.“ How bout you say them.” A teasing tone is in your voice, mixed with a bit of challenging. 
“Oh I will.” She counters.
“Do it.”
“You do it.”
A snort breaks through your lips and you shake your head.“ Knew you wouldn’t.”
“I love you.”
You smile, brighter than Natasha has ever seen.“ Was that so hard?” 
She drops your hand, more like throws it away and you laugh. A full on laugh, clutching your stomach and dropping your head back. If she weren’t pretending to be annoyed with you she would have smiled. 
“Hey,” you push yourself up off the chair, sitting yourself on the edge of her bed, and raising your hand to cup her cheek.“ I love you so much. And I have for so long.” 
Natasha bites her lip to hold back her grin, instead nuzzling her cheek against your hand. When the blush rises on her cheeks you pull her closer, pressing your lips to hers.
Both of you are startled out of your moment when Tony’s voice loudly proclaims,“ I knew it!”
Frowning, you look behind you to see not just him, but Wanda, Steve, Pietro, and Sam as well. 
“Eavesdropping, classy.” You say sarcastically, making to move away, only for Natasha’s fingers to wrap around your arm. 
“Lay with me.” She says and you raise your eyebrows.
“You sure?” 
Nodding, she scoots over and you don’t argue, sitting beside her and letting her press against you.“ They know now.” She shrugs, laying her head on your shoulder.
Tony nods, standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed.“ Yeah we do. And quite frankly I’m disappointed that neither of you told me.” 
With a quiet laugh, you wrap your arms around Natasha, listening as he accuses you both of keeping secrets. That just elicits Sam to do the same, Steve starts off on your side saying you have a right to privacy but eventually switches over as he wonders why you didn’t say anything. Wanda just smirks and laughs while Pietro questions what the big deal is. 
Admittedly it’s all very amusing and funnily enough neither you or Natasha are given the chance to answer since they all keep talking. 
While their chaotically mannered conversation proceeds you can’t help but think that at this moment in time, with the woman you love in your arms and your friends teasing the two of you, you feel happier and more at peace than you ever have.
******
Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @ellobruv @ecruzsalaz
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