#the two used to have a fairly friendly relationship and were much closer back when they were the only two iterators in the area

[arolesbianism]

Having a rain world oc moment. Dysfunctional family of the year award, they were so toxic that one of them found a way to kill themselves in a world where that was supposed to be physically impossible

[delewlew]

the prettiest girl: charles leclerc x black fem! reader smau ⋆.˚ 𓇼⋆.

request: a friend of Charles is hitting on y/n and like he likes all her Instagram pictures talking about her, send her messages so it makes Charles jealous. - @kayleen0

warnings: jealousy, suggestive content

author's note: for the sake of this request im using one of charles' friends, hugo. this is no hate to him and this is a work of fiction not to be taken seriously. i hope that you enjoy what i've written!

the first time you noticed that something weird was going on between one of charles' friends and you was a random afternoon you all were on a yacht having a friends day. it was nothing crazy, just charles' childhood friends and their girlfriends for the guys who weren't single. the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than everyone else's, the way he ended up by your side if charles wasn't there as he tried to make attempts to get you to talk to him. from the beginning of it all you were fairly cautious about it. all the answers to his questions were one or two words, laughs were forced and smiles were awkward and ingenuine. yet for some odd reason you got the feeling that he just didn't get the hint, or chose to ignore it. however you weren't completely sure if maybe it was all in your head, after all a lot of his friends were friendly and told you that you looked nice so maybe that's all it was...maybe?

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

isthatyn

liked by charles_leclerc, hugomicallef, and 15,304 others

isthatyn summertime livin' sweet summertime lovin' 🍭☀️🌈 💗

view all 2,209 comments

havanaroseliu bring me back a bag of bubs pls  🥺

⤷ isthatyn you know i did <3

charles_leclerc loving every moment i spend with you ❤️

⤷ isthatyn i love you so much wow 🥹

cocojones i miss you :(

⤷ isthatyn yet you never answer my calls 😒

⤷ cocojones girl i been working ntm on me 😭

⤷ username1 OOP COCO BOOKED AND BUSY!

hugomicallef the prettiest girl 😍

⤷ username2 oh thats...

⤷ username3 chill out he's just stating a fact

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

your gaze lingered on your phone screen as you read his comment over and over again.

the prettiest girl 😍

no matter how many times you tried to rationalize it, something just didn't sit right with you about it. you tried to tell yourself that maybe he was just being nice, charles' fans were always calling you variations of "queen slayer" , "prettiest f1 wag", and "most beautiful woman ever" but that just seemed different when it came from someone you knew closer than some strangers online that happened to support you.

charles' voice snapped you out of your trance, "qu'est-ce que tu regardes, mon cœur ?" you jumped slightly and put your phone down quickly, tucking it under your thigh, "nothing just instagram comments." charles eyed you up and down then asked, "why do you have this shocked look on your face? did someone say something to you?" you debated on actually mentioning hugo's comments but at the last minute you changed your mind, "no you just startled me, i wasn't paying attention that's all." his shoulders relaxed and the features on his face softened, "ah i'm sorry my love, i didn't mean to scare you." he kissed your temple and walked off elsewhere in your shared apartment. [what are you looking at, my heart?]

not a minute later you felt your phone buzz and you received a DM on twitter. you checked and noticed that it was hugo responding to the message you sent him earlier. the minute you opened it your heart sank to your feet as you read his very obviously flirtatious reply. instead of just ignoring it you decided to respond, telling yourself that maybe if you didn't match his energy and kept it brief maybe he'd read the room:

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

you felt your phone DMs on twitter go off once more and you didn't even have to check them to know who it was. at this point you decided to just post a little more obviously on instagram that you were happily in a relationship, in your mind that's what this dumbass guy might need to see...right?:

isthatyn

liked by hugomicallef, charles_leclerc, and 16,203 others

isthatyn avec toi, je sui moi [with you i am me]

view all 3,771 comments

lilymhe the prettiest! 😍💗

⤷ isthatyn no that's definitely you 🫶

charles_leclerc Mon cœur t'appartient [my heart belongs to you]

username4 did charles play her a song-

⤷ username5 girl pls that man has probably composed an entire symphony for that woman 😭😭😭

hugomicallef a work of art photographing a work of art 😍💕

⤷ charles_leclerc 🤨

⤷ username6 here this man go again with these weird ass comments 😒

sabrinacarpenter it was so nice running into you <3

⤷ isthatyn you too! i can't wait for the album to drop soon!!!

francisca.cgomes i'm about to make pierre learn to play piano now :)

⤷ isthatyn omg girl do it

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

knots formed in your stomach as you noticed that charles did respond to the comment left by his friend. you knew that he was sending you pictures that you posed and just responding to them with whatever weird ass comments he thought of. you'd seen the messages and read them, gut wrenching disgust filing your stomach. at this point you knew that telling charles was no longer an option, it simply had to be done. however the idea of showing your boyfriend what his friend was saying to you brought a worry that you never thought you'd feel. the idea that rather than being mad at his best friend, he'd blame you instead for the unwanted attention became a thought on the forefront of your mind. you'd seen similar things happen in friends' relationships and even in some of your past ones as well. you knew you had to tell him, you just didn't want to knowing that maybe you'd lose him in the process.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

charles had seen the way hugo had been liking his close friends instagram stories but only the ones with you in it. he noticed the way hugo was amongst the first to like and comment under your posts as well. the first comment he noticed to be...off putting was calling you a work of art, that's not something you say about a friend let alone a friend's girlfriend. he'd kept his mouth shut not wanting to upset you into thinking you did something wrong by posting pictures of yourself, so he left it alone. in his mind, hugo was a good friend who had always respected him in his past relationships so why would that suddenly change? it shouldn't, at least that's what he told himself. but on the off chance that maybe hugo was 'confused', he simply posted something that got the message across:

charles_leclerc

liked by isthatyn, hugomicallef, and 1,773,906 others

charles_leclerc mes deux cœurs  💕

isthatyn ur so fine i neED YOU RN 🤤

⤷ charles_leclerc baby pls-

⤷ isthatyn that's what i would be saying if you were here with me rn 😤

username7 what ever happened to hello, how are you?

⤷ isthatyn CAN YOU BLAME ME LOOK AT HIM

oscarpiastri i miss the person i was before reading all that ☹️

⤷ isthatyn don't disrespect your mother

hugomicallef a shame we can't see her gorgeous face 😔

⤷ charles_leclerc you can't but i can 😉

username9 LMFAO GET EM SHARL

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

you sat across from charles on the bed in your shared bedroom and noticed the way his brow furrowed as he looked at his phone. a feeling of dread settled in your stomach as soon as he asked, "baby have you seen your comments under our instagram posts?" you closed the book you were reading and pretended to not know what he was mentioning, so you changed the subject before he could focus on the person you didn't want to think about. with that specific gaze saved for the most intimate of moments you pulled his phone from his hand, "the comments you did nothing about when i left them?" slowly you crawled over to him and settled right on his lap so you were straddling his hips.

almost as if it was an instinct, charles' hands found their place on each side of your body, his thumbs gently rubbing circles at your hipbone. your fingers tangled into his hair as you pulled his head back slightly to bring his lips to yours once you leaned down. the taste of your vanilla mint chapstick filled his mouth as his tongue lightly brushed against your plump bottom lip. he was lost in all that you were for a moment before he remembered what he was going to say. abruptly he pulled away, "y/n-" you cut him off, hoping that he would fall under your spell, "don't deny me, not right now." his blue eyes locked with yours, those long thick eyelashes that framed your glittering eyes pulled him in once more and all it took was a soft whispered, "please charlie..." he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside before flipping you over so you were now under him. charles began kissing your neck gently right at that spot you loved so much. your eyes began to fall shut as you finally let the worries you held on to leave your mind, opening up your thoughts to be taken over by the man above you.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

isthatyn

liked by hugomicallef, tiffanyandco, and 992, 711 others

isthatyn never want this break to end 💐🧡

tyla everything about you 🩷

⤷ isthatyn TYLA- PLS WAIT I LOVE YOU PLEASE LOVE OF MY LIFE

⤷ tyla ilysm pretty girl, we have to get together sometime

⤷ charles_leclerc excuse me 😐

⤷ isthatyn charles_leclerc STOP EMBARASSING ME IN FRONT OF TYLA ✋🏾

altonmason u r so hawt

⤷ isthatyn LMAOOOO TY ILY ILY ILY 💖💗

username10 y/n pls may i have your hand in marriage 💍

⤷ isthatyn no you may not - charles

⤷ username10 sharing is caring charles 😔

⤷ isthatyn i don't care. therefore, she's mine - charles

hugomicallef can charles fight?

⤷ charles_leclerc yes he can. would you like to come find out? 🙃

username11 ion mean to be rude or nun but do he realize he's talking to his PROFESSIONAL BOXER of a friend about fighting...he'd lose...badly

⤷ username12 how do u kno? he could be able to throw down

⤷ username13 baby the dimples and blue eyes aren't gonna help him in a fight. he'd be cooked in under 30 seconds 💀💀💀

hugomicallef like an angel of the sea, a siren calling my name 😘

⤷ isthatyn ambulance sirens are going to be calling your name if you don't get out of my fucking comments you sick fuck 🖕

⤷ carlossainz55 this is really not cool man...

⤷ landonorris she's not calling your fucking name dipshit

⤷ oscarpiastri get out of here

⤷ alex_albon BOOOOO 👎TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO!!!! 🍅🍅🍅

⤷ lewishamilton have some respect dude

⤷ pierregasly she doesn't fucking like you

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

there was no point in trying to avoid having the conversation that you should have had days ago. hugo was very obviously flirting with you and judging by the fact that multiple drivers hopped into your comment section coming to your defense, it was obvious charles had told them something. the minute charles came home from a workout you made a beeline to the bathroom to hide. as much as you knew there was no point, that worry of him blaming you and leaving controlled all rational thoughts.

you remained silent in the bathroom until charles slowly pushed the door open and didn't say anything to you. he was very obviously infuriated by the entire ordeal but he didn't even know the entire thing. silently you watched cautiously and he simply walked up to you and placed a hand on your cheek before kissing you so gently against your lips. he pulled away and asked quietly, "i'll shower and then we talk, yes?" you nodded silently and shuffled away into your bedroom where the ten minutes he took felt like ten hours.

when charles was finally out of the shower you were staring out the bedroom window watching people outside. you jumped when you felt a pair of warm hands around your waist turn you to face the other direction. charles held your gaze as he asked, "why didn't you tell me that he was messaging you?" tears immediately filled your eyes and panic coursed through your veins as heat warmed your cheeks, "i didn't- i'm sorry i-i didn't want to ruin your friendship i knew that you two were childhood friends and i thought if i ignored him then he'd leave me alone but he didn't and i should have told you immediately but i was scared you'd blame me and i didn't want to make you mad and-"

your boyfriend held onto your hands and led you to the edge of your bed, "darling please take a deep breath. i'm not mad at you, i'm mad at him for disrespecting you and our relationship. i also should have talked to him sooner, but i didn't want you to feel guilty for anything that happened. you shouldn't have had to deal with this, and i'm sorry for not being there to defend you when it started. i'm no longer friends with hugo, the entire friend group is no longer friends with him....also i will admit you did make me laugh with the last messages you sent him to tell him off." when you looked up with a worried gaze he clarified, "he sent me all of them to try to make you look like the one at fault."

you let out a sigh and charles pulled you closer to his chest where he could still feel your heart racing a mile a minute. he kissed the top of your head and said, "i'm sorry my darling." you melted into his embrace and you sniffled softly, "thank you...but i still feel like....guilty?" charles squeezed you tighter, "the only thing you are guilty of is being my only love, my pretty girl." you finally let out a small laugh, the first he's heard from you in a week. there was a warm gentleness to his voice as he told you, "i never want you to feel like you can't tell me something, especially when it's something like this okay?" you hummed in understanding and he kissed you once more, giving one last squeeze before letting you go.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

the end.

[schrodingers-romy]

Heaven Works on Borrowed Time [Karasu Tabito x Reader]

Pairings: Karasu Tabito x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Two people escaping an office party have a first meeting under the stars

Warnings: no gendered pronouns/language used for reader, reader doesn't like their job and is kinda bitter about it, discussion of the fermi paradox, karasu-typical tacky nickname, pre-relationship

Notes: very pointless little convo between crow boy and reader but I thought it was fun. title from fermi paradox by avenged sevenfold bc i think i'm funny

You sighed into the night air, relaxing as the late breeze cooled your heated face. Office parties sucked. You were glad you were able to sneak away from you drunk, overly friendly coworkers, and find yourself some peace.

Your jaw had just finished unclenching when the door behind you clicked open, bringing with it a rush of sound from the party inside before it swung back shut.

So much for your peace.

“Didn’ know anyone else was out here. Hope ya don’t mind me intrudin’,” said the newcomer.

“’S fine,” you said, even if you wanted to scream a little.

You recognized the voice; Karasu Tabito, who worked on the floor above you as part of the company’s legal department. You never really interacted with him, aside from including him in a few email chains; if you didn’t know he was friends with Otoya Eita, you wouldn’t have an opinion on the man at all. However, considering you did know Otoya (both by his reputation for dating or hooking up with half of the office and cheating on at least an unlucky third of them, and because he tried to hit on you during your first joint meeting), your opinion on Karasu leaned towards the negative. Still, you didn’t need any more rumors of your snappishness circulating, so you didn’t kick up a fuss at sharing the balcony with him. You would be making your excuses to leave soon anyways; you had been there for over an hour, which was enough to say you had socialized.

Ignoring the man who had sidled up beside you, you blinked up at the sky. The city didn’t have the greatest clarity, but letting your eyes adjust for a moment revealed a splattering of the brightest stars, visible against the deep purple of the heavens. You wished you were in the countryside, where it was so pitch-dark that you could see all the constellations, and the pale, cloudy arm of the milky way as it stretched above you. Where the air was clear, and you were away from the nagging voices of your coworkers and the ambient, unsleeping, anxious hum of the city. But instead, you were stuck at a shit job you were overqualified for, with officemates you barely tolerated most days, just because you were too apathetic to try for anything better.

You slumped against the railing. You should’ve stayed home.

“Hey,” came the deep voice once more. “Ya okay over there?”

You turned to look at him, your cheek pillowed in the crook of your arm as you squinted up at him. His expression was fairly flat, but his eyes seemed honest enough, so you replied. Albeit sarcastically. “I’m doing awesome, man. I love it here.”

He snorted, lip twitching up into a small smirk. “I can see that. Yer jus’ the life of the party, huh?”

“Yup.” You turned away from him, your gaze returning to the stars.

“I woulda thought otherwise, what with how ya were staring up at the sky like ya were prayin’ for aliens ta come and abduct you.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped you. “Where did you pull that from? Big alien believer yourself?”

“Not any more than’s logical.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. “And how much is logical?”

He moved closer, leaning against the railing so he could more easily catch your eyes. The indigo of his irises caught the light, and, for a second, you thought he was rather pretty. “I mean, it stands ta reason, statistically, that we’re not alone out there.”

“Don’t you think we would have some evidence of alien life, if there was any?” you asked, sardonically. “Statistics aren’t always accurate, or comprehensive.”

Karasu doesn’t seem off put by your tone, smirking right back at you without a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Have ya ever heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

“Of course. I’m quite partial to the great filter theory, myself.”

“Do ya think the filter is behind us or ahead of us?”

You stared up at the sky with a frown on your face. “Ahead. I hope civilization hits a wall soon. I’m tired.”

He let out a laugh like a raven’s cackle. “Well aren’tcha a bright spot of sunshine? Personally, I think they’re out there, jus’ watchin’ us.”

“Why?”

“’T’s what I woulda done.”

“Ooh, alien civilization observer Karasu. You’d need a better title than that though, right now it sounds a bit voyeuristic.”

“Tabito.”

You turned back to look at him. “Huh?”

“Ya can call me Tabito.”

You studied him for a moment. The strangely gelled shape of his hair reflected the starshine like an oil slick, and the light seemed to drip down his face and settle into the amused wrinkles at the corners of his bright eyes. He was overly familiar with you, accent and tone breaking down any sort of professional distance, but you found that you, oddly enough, didn’t mind. It was refreshing to talk to someone so frank, who didn’t take your bluntness for an attack. Instead, he seemed…amused by you. (Charmed, even, if you were being wistful.)

“Sure. Tabito,” you said, before offering up your own name in return. You ignored the little flicker of something in your chest at hearing it repeated back at you in his deep voice.

“So, what was that about voyeurism?...”

You glanced away, a little flustered but unwilling to surrender. “I stand by it. Secretly observing a different intelligent species sounds weird as fuck, actually. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Aw, wouldn’t ya want ta observe me if I was ‘n intelligent species? No? ‘M hurt, truly.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say, ‘Maybe I would if you were an intelligent species.’ But something in you held back from using one of your typical snappish replies. Instead, you said, “Well. Perhaps I would make an exception. For you. Maybe.”

His smile was so big that it caused his eyes to form crescents. “Aw, that’s so sweet of ya, little storm cloud.”

Your nose crinkled. “Storm cloud? I thought I just gave you name privileges.”

“Ya just reminded me of one, tha’s all. Gloomy. And fluffy.”

“Fluffy?”

“On the inside.”

“Sure, Tabito.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, soaking in the relative peace of the little balcony you’ve found yourselves on. The stars continued to glitter overhead, with more and more peeking through the gloom of the night sky as time ticked past.

“Do ya need someone ta walk ya home?” he asked.

You didn’t. “Sure.”

-

Unlike his friend, Tabito was the perfect gentleman when he brought you home, leaving with nothing more than a good night and a cheeky salute. You wouldn’t have invited him in, not on a first meeting. But. You had a feeling that you might not be so unwilling after getting to know him better.

The next morning, there was a book sitting on your desk. With it, a note: “For my little storm cloud, to borrow. Tell me your opinion on it, I’m sure it’ll be interesting ;)” Hell. Maybe you didn’t want to believe the great filter was ahead; maybe life should continue on. It wasn’t all bad.

[fanghunting]

Local oasis rambles about her two (and a half) ocs. Some spicy. Just some background knowledge and various headcanons for a future project.

Ame (ah-may) is a beyondian in Libra. Her blood style is self taught and very simple, having to element developed alongside it. But her blood is poisonous to humans. She can't breathe oxygen very well, but breathes easier underwater. She's in a polycule with Steven and Zed.

Irene is a blood breed stage actress. She's a few centuries old and prefers to remain quiet when off stage. She occasionally helps Libra with keeping tabs on blood breeds. She's in a relationship with Klaus.

Okay technically there is a third but she's still a lump of clay at the moment. She's an alternate of Irene that made different choices in the last 50 years. Goes by Etoile and is very happy in a nice triad with Steven and Klaus. Part of Libra. Scares Leo the first time he meets her.

Irene hasn't actually bitten anyone to drink blood in about a hundred years. She very carefully makes a mark with a knife to avoid spreading the BB curse.

Ame and Steven were together for about two years before Zed joined Libra.

In human years, Ame is only three at the beginning of B3. Her species ages differently to humans so according to their timetable she'd be about 20.

Irene loves listening to Klaus's heartbeat as he sleeps. She snuggles up... even if she can't sleep herself.

Ame loves being held.

Irene stopped really paying attention to how old she is after 200. No point after that. She is closer to 300 though.

Given how blood breed names seem to work, Irene may not actually be her real name. Or maybe it's part of the name. Either way, it's definitely not the only part of her name for sealing.

Klaus does know her full name... she told him after their first night sleeping together.

Ame's teeth are very sharp. She doesn't know why since she's still an omnivore.

Etoile (and by extension Irene) uses false names and changes everything she can every 50 years or so to avoid questions. Though now that she's in Libra and in HLC, she probably won't do it again. Maybe just changing her name.

Ame sometimes sleeps in Zed's tank with him just to keep him company. She doesn't like how he's stuck living where he works.

Given that her blood technique is self-taught, the weapons she creates with it are very crude. They are mostly used as ways to deliver the poison when dealing with humans. Said poison is not dangerous in small doses but is potentially deadly.

Ame tried to be friendly with Zapp. She really did. But he was either not interested in a friendship or didn't realize she was honestly trying.

Klaus sometimes helps Irene with practicing for performances. He is always attending the premiers of her shows, and adores hearing her sing.

While they're not an elder in the sense of the original, Irene/Etoile are both fairly old and well versed in their abilities.

Etoile also does not bite anyone. She has a contact in a blood bank where she can buy and consume blood like a caprisun. Sometimes if her boys are injured she will very carefully consume it off them- mostly tiny licks to make sure she doesn't bite them.

Ame has very loud sneezes. Steven has no idea how she sneezes since she doesn't have a nose.

Etoile can and will hold Steven in bed until he falls asleep if she has to.

Effectively, think of Ame's breathing oxygen as something like asthma. Most of the time she's okay and just has to be careful of stuff in the air, but sometimes it gets to her and she has to get in water. Not 1:1 asthma but functionally similar.

Irene and Etoile have a slight limp from an injury back when they were human. Some days it is much more obvious than others.

Ame's skin has a very similar texture to a skink.

When she fell for Zed, Ame felt extremely guilty even asking Steven to consider opening their relationship to let him in. She loves them both and didn't want to upset Steven. He agreed to try and discuss it more after two weeks.

Etoile loves doodling her boys' names all over notebooks. She's uncomfortably good at mimicking their signatures though...

Irene knows how to hide that she's a blood breed. Honestly, Klaus likely would not have known without Leo if she hadn't told him on the second date.

Ame doesn't actually have a surname she's just Ame??? But you know, papers and shit. So on paper she's Ame Keln. Keln being a random group of letters she liked the sound of. It literally has no meaning... she is not against being Ame Starphase or Ame O'Brien though.

Irene's surname is Fellmoon, and Etoile's is Cross. ... Though even having that, it is not enough to seal the blood breed. Both these names are complete fabrications to recreate her life after a period of time.

You may notice, if you saw those early-ish posts about Raju, that despite me selfshipping with him there is no oc or s/i shipped with him. That's mostly because I just can't think of a scenario that works... so he's one of my few f/os where there's no proxy, it's just me in the ship.

spicy below the cut

Ame and Steven both have very high sex drives. Sometimes they don't want to go all the way and just edge each other instead.

Ame's safeword with Steven and Zed is "stratos".

Irene enjoys collars.

Ame and Zed have smashed in the tank.

Irene knows what she likes and it includes breeding kink, collars, and praise.

Steven loves when Ame bites him. Zed, not so much. He prefers only feeling her teeth against his scales without puncturing.

Steven and Zed may literally be addicted to sex with Ame. In a sense that they perhaps literally would never think about sex with someone else because of a chemical released by her body. A species thing to prevent affairs. Supposedly. It may just be rumor, and they may just love sex with Ame.

Etoile very much enjoys when Steven holds onto her while Klaus fucks him. She loves that he trusts her as comfort... and also just really likes watching her two loves having fun.

Ame (and Etoile) loves having both her boys. Ame adores being spitroasted, especially since they switch positions each time they do it.

Ame really wants to get fucked on Steven's desk.

Irene sometimes very gently reminds Klaus that he can't hurt her. By deepthroating him. Completely.

I had originally planned for Ame to just be with Zed and to have had a one-night stand with Steven. During that night she would have ridden him until he saw stars.

Ame can't get enough of the sound of Zed moaning.

Steven laments that he can't have pictures of Etoile in lingerie.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers reaction to the reader referring to them as their boyfriend/partner to other people for the first time?

The Slashers reacting to their S/O referring to them as their Boyfriend/Girlfriend to other people for the first time:

Thomas Hewitt

It was no secret that you and Tommy were together, always by each other’s side, acting lovesick. 

Luda May wasn’t shy about voicing your relationship, already referring to you as Thomas’ partner and to Thomas as your boyfriend, she already had her mind set on a future of weddings and grandbabies. 

Her talk had always made the two of you flustered and embarrassed, neither of you really confirming her claims of your relationship.

You had been down at the gas station with Luda May and Thomas, she had asked Thomas to come to help move some crates and you had already been there to help her watch the place.

A group of travellers had pulled in, getting some gas and stocking up on snacks.

Being a friendly and trustworthy face, you were sent out to greet them and ask if they needed assistance. Thomas had been lifting another crate and had looked over to you, always protective over you, especially when it came to strangers. Eventually one of the men had commented on Tommy’s staring as he worked, scoffing to himself.

“Oh, that’s Tommy, my boyfriend. He’s just a little protective, you never know the type you might run into ‘round here” you reassured them with a smile, fully knowing that it was the Hewitt family that nobody wanted to run into around here.

Of course, Thomas overheard you, and your declaration instantly made him blush, quickly busying himself with his work again.

He’s overjoyed though, hearing you refer to him as your boyfriend, sounding so proud of him, he loved you so much and each day you convinced him that you felt the same. He also likes that these strangers know that you’re together.

Michael Myers

You were seeing some friends and Michael had gotten bored, heading out to find you and continue with his usual stalker shenanigans since he seems to enjoy stalking you when he’s bored and you’ve left him at home. He saw you talking to some of your friends, you were saying goodbye.

They had tried to get you to stay a little longer but you had smiled, telling them that you had to get home to your boyfriend. Of course they had demanded to finally meet this mysterious boyfriend but you shook your head at them before heading home, where Michael would already be when you arrived.

So, you had been referring to him as your boyfriend to your friends for a little while...he isn’t going to bring it up, he’ll act like he never heard it, like he was at home this whole time.

He won’t say anything but he ponders it for a moment, if that’s how you want to refer to him...he’s more than okay with that. Maybe more okay with it than he would admit to himself.

Jason Voorhees

You had gone on a walk through the woods and had wandered into the old camp. You hadn’t been aware of intruders but accidently stumbled upon a group of trespassers who had just arrived and where getting bags out of their car.

The group had turned to you, surprised but friendly. You, on the other hand, panicked a little, knowing you shouldn’t interact with them too much. Jason would be coming to deal with them some time soon. 

“Uh sorry...I was just looking for my boyfriend...bye!” you practically ran off, back towards the cabin, knowing that Jason would want you to be somewhere safe and out of the way. 

Jason had seen it all from his hidden spot in the trees. At first he had been worried when you stumbled upon the group, worried that you would get hurt or something.

But his heart fluttered when he heard you referring to him as your boyfriend, liking the way it sounded and how it made him feel.

You had been staying with him for a while now and the two of you had become close, certainly entering a more romantic relationship. But that was the first time you had used the title, and you had done so with so much ease.

Yes, he was your boyfriend, and he adored you.

Brahms Heelshire

You and Brahms were certainly dating, at least he definitely thought so and believed that you did too.

The delivery boy had come with your most recent grocery delivery, and you had answered the door. 

The two of you were chatting for a while, slowly irritating Brahms, who was sure that the delivery boy had a thing for you.

You had never really thought the delivery boy liked you but he was getting friendlier lately and you knew how much it bothered Brahms, so you had just casually slipped in some talk about your boyfriend (not mentioning Brahms’ name of course), just to get the point across to both of them.

The delivery boy had always been friendly and that had always made Brahms a little jealous but now that the man knows that you have a boyfriend, Brahms feel more confident that he won’t try anything and it makes him just a little less jealous.

Brahms is looking pretty smug when you close the front door and he comes to greet you, you barely have the chance to roll your eyes at him before he’s pulling you into a kiss. 

You can’t help but smile fondly at how proud and happy he seems with his new title.

Bo Sinclair

You and Bo had been getting closer, what you had definitely wasn’t ‘casual’ but neither of you had really talked about it. Bo didn’t like talking about that kind of stuff and you didn’t want to bring it up and put him in a bad mood. 

It was fine...until a group of visitors arrived in Ambrose.

It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman had flirted with Bo and he had allowed it, even flirted back to lull the strangers into a false sense of security. This would be the first time it made you jealous and you had every right to feel that way.

The flirtatious woman had laid it on fairly thick, Bo had only chuckled but hadn’t really returned the flirtations. You appreciated that but you still wished he would just tell her to stop or be a little less encouraging. You understood, you just didn’t like it.

Bo was looking at their car while you went to tell the group what was going on, telling them that ‘your boyfriend was just checking their car and should be done soon, he’s very good at his job’. You saw how the woman pulled a face at that, which satisfied you at least a little.

Bo had already been on his way over and had overheard how you had referred to him, making him smirk to him, both because of the title but also because of your jealousy. 

Now, he just had to mess with you.

He walked over, announcing that their car needed a new fan-belt as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

You knew that he was being extra obvious in front of the woman, probably more to mess with you than anything, and you knew that he was going to tease you for this later on...but at least he was showing off your relationship in front of these strangers.

Vincent Sinclair 

When visitors to Ambrose came by, Vincent would watch from a distance (especially when it came to you, just to make sure you were safe). 

He’d listen to conversation he could catch, and he was currently listening to you speaking with the group about their car that they needed help with.

“Sure, I’ll just get my boyfriend, Vincent, to go pick up your car” you told the group politely with a smile.

Vincent was taken back by how you referred to him as your boyfriend, and how you did it so causally. He wondered if you knew he was listening, that he could hear you.

Obviously the two of you had gotten very close as of late, sharing more than a couple romantic moments, but you had never brought up the topic.

It’s fair to say that Vincent is a little flustered when he next sees you but you had truly made his day, made his week even.

Lester Sinclair

You were in Ambrose when a pair of strangers walked into the garage, telling you that their car broke down and some guy gave them a lift into down, saying that his brother owned the garage. 

“I’m guessing it was my boyfriend who gave you a ride” you chuckled fondly, obviously knowing that it was Lester but keeping up some sort of act. 

“Yeah, he did” Lester beamed proudly as he walked into the garage behind the pair. 

You blushed a little, getting a little flustered by getting caught referring to him as your boyfriend, not that he seemed to mind.

When he heard the way you referred to him, it just put a huge smile on his face. He kind of knew that he was your boyfriend but this was the first time you had actually said it.

He greeted you warmly, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, still beaming. It was sweet really. If Bo had seen, he probably would have gagged.

Bubba Sawyer

The brothers had been bickering and arguing, which was nothing new. Of course, you had started to defend Bubba, since he was pretty unconfrontational.

Drayton had scoffed and complained about you defending Bubba. 

You had just responded with “well, he is my boyfriend”, without even thinking about it.

Nobody else (other than Bubba) was surprised by the word ‘boyfriend’. Just rolling their eyes at you and continuing with their bickering.

Bubba had the biggest smile on his face.

He accepts his new position as your boyfriend instantly. Yes, he is your boyfriend and he loves you so much.

He just gets a little giddy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection from you after that.

Billy Lenz 

You had been on the phone with a friend. They had invited you out for the evening but you had politely declined, telling them that you were spending the night in with your boyfriend.

Of course, Billy had been listening in on the conversation, and as soon as you referred to him as your boyfriend he was grinning like an idiot.

It was more than obvious that the two of you were in fact dating, you just hadn’t put a name on it and Billy hadn’t really thought to do so. He felt like you had just made the relationship official, but he was more giddy at the thought of other people knowing that he was your boyfriend, that you would talk about him so fondly to your friends.

As soon as you put the phone down, Billy is on you, wrapping you up in his embrace, making you giggle as you returned the gesture, wondering what had gotten into him.

“I’m your boyfriend” he stated proudly, grinning from ear to ear before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle again.

“Yes you are” you agreed fondly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

You were at Asa’s home when you got a phone call from a friend, asking if you wanted to hang out that evening but you already had plans with Asa. And that’s what you told them.

“Sorry, I’m spending the evening with my boyfriend” you told them, smiling when they complained about not having met your boyfriend yet.

As soon as you hung up, Asa appeared next to you, holding out a drink for you. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, knowing he had heard and also knowing that you hadn’t really defined your relationship like that yet.

“You could have told me” was all he really responded with as he sat down beside you. Clearly not minding the way you referred to him.

Asa isn’t an idiot, he knew that’s where your relationship was, he just hadn’t brought up the conversation yet. Now it seemed like it didn’t have too, and that was good to know.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You had decided to visit Jesse at his office, which he had told you that you could do whenever you pleased. When you arrive and were asking for him and the location of his office, you were met by a woman who seemed pretty hostile about your presence.

You definitely didn’t want to cause any trouble at Jesse’s work but she was being rude and you were getting tired, you just wanted to visit Jesse for lunch. 

“Look, I’m just here to visit my boyfriend, I’ll just call him and let him know I’m here” you sighed, about to give up as you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

Luckily, Jesse had just been passing through the reception and had witnessed the end of your conversation. Smirking to himself when you referred to him as your boyfriend.

He approached before you could unlock your phone, tucking it away again as you smiled up at him. 

Jesse nods to the woman, placing a hand on your back before guiding you up to his office.

Once you’re alone, he will playfully question you about how you had referred to him. After messing with you a bit and making you a little flustered, he reassures you that it’s perfectly fine. He is happy to call himself your boyfriend and to call you his partner.

From then on, everyone knows who you are and that Jesse is your boyfriend. You won’t be stopped or questioned again, don’t worry.

Otis Driftwood

You and Otis had gone to a nearby bar together, just to get out of the house and have a little fun. You had wandered over to the bar without him and when Otis looked over, he saw some guy flirting with you.

Jealousy and protectiveness (maybe some possessiveness) had Otis marching over to the two of you. 

“Uh, yeah sorry, I have a boyfriend” he heard you tell the man, shifting away from him in discomfort. You glanced around and relaxed when you saw Otis approaching. “There he is!” you smiled brightly, you were quick to push yourself away from the bar and meet Otis.

He instantly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, protectively and possessively as he glared the man down.

Damn right, he’s your boyfriend. And he’ll make sure everyone here knows it.

You had never actually called him that before, never actually made whatever the two of you had official. But now you had, that’s all he had to know.

Baby Firefly

You and Baby had gone out to a bar to have a few drinks and probably cause some trouble. She was dancing even though nobody else was, just her, having a great time, as you watched on adoringly.

Some guy and come up beside you and asked who she was. 

With a grin, you had proudly exclaimed “that’s my girlfriend!” 

Of course, Baby had heard you and smiled about it to herself.

Once she finished dancing, she returned to you and the same guy moved closer, introducing himself to her and asking for her to introduce herself in return. 

“I’m their fucking girlfriend” Baby stated proudly with a grin of her own, wrapping her arms around you as if to get her point across even more.

Yautja (Predator)

Of course introducing your family or your friends to your current partner (or ‘mate’, as he would call you) wasn’t really an option at the moment. But you had mentioned that you were seeing someone.

You were on the phone to a friend when they started asking about this mysterious person you had been seeing.

So, finally you told them to give your boyfriend some privacy, the two of you laughing before ending the call.

He had been referring to you as his mate for a while now and you assumed that was the same level, if not even more serious, than the title of boyfriend, so you figured it was okay.

And your mate thought so too. He knew what ‘boyfriend’ meant since you explained human dating to him, so when he heard, he knew what you meant and it just filled him with pride, knowing that you definitely felt the same as him.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Blaise Zabini

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- It’s hard not to know who Blaise is, but you don’t actually meet the boy until your sixth year at Hogwarts.

- Like most girls in the school. You probably had a crush on the regal looking pureblood but you didn’t have the courage to approach him; especially not after hearing stories of him turning down other girls coldly.

- It wasn’t until a party that you’d end up crossing paths with the boy and find yourself thrust into his life.

- Okay, so maybe you’d attended said party primarily because you knew he was going to be there. So what? You didn’t expect anything out of it; though you could still dream, but surprisingly enough, something did come out of it. You met him, not saw or bumped into accidentally, no, m-e-t. Met.

- Technically, you met a few Slytherins, particularly ones in Draco’s gang, mainly because Gregory Goyle had struck up a conversation with you before his friends joined the area you were seated at.

- Throughout the night, you keep sneaking glances at the boy who seemingly couldn’t care less about your presence. It isn’t until your friend comes to retrieve you and the two of you go into the crowd to dance, that his eyes finally seem to lock on you.

- Blaise is hard to please so sparking his interest is an accomplishment in of itself. You may not think that he likes you due to his nonchalant behavior but believe me, even being allowed to be in his presence or having a few words spoken to you is big deal with Blaise.

- The start of your relationship with the boy is going to be filled with uncertainty just because of the way he is.

- One thing leads to another and the two of you wind up kissing at a party which becomes a sort of regular thing, the two of you kissing that is. And you’re dating, right? The fact of the matter is: you don’t know.

- Blaise is a confusing person. He’s stoic, he’s cold, he doesn’t really show interest in anything, and because of that, you aren’t even sure if he really likes you or if he’s just toying with you. He’s not particularly loving, he’s never asked you out on a date, so what are you?

- Parties seem to be your good luck charm because everything between the two of you seem to happen at them. So yeah, you attend another one of them with the boy, or rather, you end up sitting together at another one of them.

- Another boy comes up to you and asks if you want to dance and since you’re doing nothing besides awkwardly sitting next to the boy you were in love with, you stood up to follow him.

- Blaise; who had been watching the exchange intently, almost immediately pulled you back down and tugged your face to his, stealing your breath away in a deep kiss. And that’s where part of the confusion comes from, because it seems as though he only really wants you when someone else does ...which gives you an idea.

- You show interest in someone else. It seems so stupid, doesn’t it? It’s such a simple thing and yet, it works. You tell Pansy that you’re interested in someone and her being her, let’s it slip to the others when you’re not around. Then, you make a point of glancing over at the boy a few times, strike up a few friendly conversations, and voila.

- All of a sudden, Blaise is much more present in your life. He’s sitting closer, he’s talking to you, actually talking to you, and trying to get your attention on him rather than the boy who you were “crushing on” whenever they were nearby.

- Then it happens, you’re walking down the hall one day and the boy is on the other end of it; the boy you’ve now sort of become friends with since you’ve taken to talking to him, and Blaise, along with the others, are sitting in the courtyard which is beside and between you and the boy.

- You and the boy wave when you catch each other’s eye and you’re about to go over to talk before you’re interrupted by Blaise appearing in front of/beside you. He’s as smooth as can be as he asks if you’ll go to Hogsmeade with him and you can barely contain your giddy excitement as you agree.

- He wraps an arm around your shoulder, stealing a glance at the boy before leading you out into the courtyard to sit with him and his friends.

- The two of you have your first date at the three broomsticks which becomes the talk of the school. You do your best to ignore the eyes and the whispers, you’d prefer a little privacy but being the center of; mainly positive, gossip feels kind of exhilarating.

- And just like that, everything’s fallen into place.

- There isn’t a ton of pda in your relationship, he’s just not that kind of person. He prefers to keep his affection behind closed doors, though he does show a little subtle softness from time to time. 

- Like when you sit next to him and he wordlessly flips his hand, keeping his eyes trained on whatever they had been previously and waiting for you to slip your hand in his open one. 

- He lives for you kissing him on the cheek ...but he’ll never let you know that. You’ll just figure it out from the way he squeezes your hand every time you do.

- Hand kisses.

- Kisses on the corner of the mouth.

- Funnily enough, he’s more likely to make out with you or keep his hand on your thigh; nearly up your skirt, than he is to hug you in public.

- Deep, slow kisses. This boy could convince you to do anything with a single kiss. You practically get drunk off of them.

- Intimate snogging.

- He finds the height difference between you two to be quite amusing and enjoys watching you struggle to kiss him. He won’t move to help you in any way, standing completely still until you finally give up. It’s only then that he finally leans down and kisses you himself, usually cracking a smile before or after he does so. 

- He likes just laying back and staring at the ceiling while you lay on his chest. He finds it soothing to hear your breathing and feel your weight on him.

- Him twirling your hair absentmindedly.

- Laying your head in his lap.

- He tends to just call you by your name; particularly when you’re in public, occasionally throwing in a y/l/n every now and again almost instinctively. But when you’re in private, he does let a few angel’s, darling’s, and princess’s slip.

- As we all know, Blaise is a fairly unbothered person. He doesn’t particularly care about anything so it’s sort of fun to watch him be so unfazed by nearly everything that happens. Other times though, to be entirely honest, it’s rather annoying.

- There’s almost always a serious look on his face which makes you being all affectionate with or teasingly babying him even funnier. God, the withering stare he can give to someone while he allows you to tease him. It’s deadly.

- Gifts. He’s a wealthy pureblood: money and gifts are their love language.

- He definitely gets you a very specific and intricate necklace, bracelet or ring that he is subtly adamant about you wearing wherever you go. It took you a bit of time to realize it was a promise “ring” of sorts.

- Being made fun of; somewhat delicately because he likes you.

- People watching and people watching. Expect a lot of eyes on you, most people are rather surprised that Blaise has finally found himself someone who fits his criteria. And on the other hand, the two of you like to sit and watch drama unfold around you. 

- A lot of the time, the two of you just do your own thing in the same area. He’s a very low maintenance boyfriend.

- Hanging out in your dorm. Everyone in your room has pretty much just gotten used to him being there, so much so that they’re more surprised when he’s not sitting on your bed and giving them a silent nod when they enter.

- He’ll begrudgingly let you take him pretty much wherever you’d like. He secretly likes when you drag him into some Hogsmeade shop since it gives him an excuse to be there without appearing less ...above everyone else.

- Dates at Madam Puddifoots. He just wishes that the place wasn’t so ...pink. He always looks out of place with his regal scowl and dark, posh clothes.

- Having dessert together.

- Attending parties with him, whether they be Slughorn’s or his mothers; or just your peers.

- Being right by his side whenever you’re out in public. He likes knowing where you are and being able to lean down and whisper something in your ear whenever he feels like it.

- Being escorted to class; if it doesn’t completely put him out of his way.

- If you weren’t aware, Blaise has a bit of an ego, so he likes when you take pictures of him. If you don’t have his photo framed by your bedside, do you even love him? That being said: he will laugh at you for having his photo framed; but won’t let you get rid of it in any capacity afterwards.

- He knows that he’s good looking so your compliments rarely ever phase him. Even so, he does still enjoy them, mainly because he’s rather vain.

- Blaise is a wealthy, pureblood who was raised by a single mother; and her rich husbands who died under mysterious causes, so one can assume that he’s had those old gentlemanly manners instilled upon him. Mainly out of habit, he’ll open doors, pull out chairs, and/or help you down from steps; which is probably what he does for his mother. 

- Speaking of his mother, I think of her as being a very glamorous, sort of old hollywood-esque woman, always calling people darling and having people wait on her hand and foot. I can see her taking you for manicures or shopping, teaching you the ways of being a woman because your mother obviously didn’t. 

- Staying at his home during breaks or over the summer. His mother is usually off doing her own thing; killing rich men for their money, and they certainly have enough rooms so you’re nearly always welcome.

- Be prepared to be around Draco and his gang a lot; at least or especially if you’re a Slytherin. The blonde boy likes his minions and enjoys looking popular.

- Blaise doesn’t have a very high opinion of anyone; even when it comes to his so called friends, but he does; obviously, like you. You sort of take him being with you as a compliment in itself and smile whenever someone mentions how he’s so hard to please. 

- Having to stifle a laugh at his general distaste and offhanded comments about his “friends”, or rather, about Draco. You can’t help but find it funny when he says something in annoyance about the blonde as he goes to leave your dorm to meet him. 

- I feel like he’d have a fondness for conniving/bitchy people or behavior. He’d find it amusing to see you come up with a whole dastardly plan or make some mean comment to him about someone else. He’d especially think it’s funny if you’re otherwise a typically sweet person. 

- Don’t mention muggle things around him unless you want a fight or a look of contempt. He’ll ask where you “heard about” such things and/or chide you for talking to some mudblood, deciding he needs to keep a closer eye on you from now on to make sure you “keep the right company”.

- He’ll definitely be moodier and colder towards you if you don’t cheer for him at his Quidditch games, or when you don’t keep up your end of your daily rituals; like meeting him after a game or class. He feels betrayed in a stupid, juvenile way and may get jealous if your reasoning; at least, partially includes another boy.

- Even though he thinks that he shouldn’t be what with how handsome, rich, and charming he is, Blaise is a pretty jealous person. He wants you all to himself so when you’re with someone else, he just can’t help but be a little ticked off. His responses will range from making out with you, suddenly acting cold, interrupting and scaring them off, or scolding you for spending time with them. 

- He’s really not that protective of you. Sure, if you wound up in the hospital wing or someone really upset you, he’d probably scare the life out of whoever was responsibly by simply being near them, but he isn’t going to be constantly watching over you. 

- There’s going to be quite a few fights in your relationship, Blaise doesn’t communicate particularly well and never wants to admit what’s bothering him so chances are, you’ll have to confront him about his rude behavior. Other times, you’ll have to make it clear that he can’t dictate who you talk to, since he’ll probably try to keep you from being around muggleborn or halfblood witches and wizards. 

- He knows how to keep a level head and can be incredibly stubborn when he wants to be so you either give up and just walk off; to which he may or may not refuse to let you leave, or argue with him for a while until he finally concedes. He’s a bit of a conniving little shit as well so he’ll probably throw in a “I’m only trying to do what's best for you” which he does actually believe most of the time but nevertheless, he’s still perpetuating wizard racism. 

- A lot of the time, you’re gonna have to be the bigger person and approach him first for him to actually apologize or for you to otherwise make up. I can see him being petty/spiteful so if you were in the wrong or if he doesn’t think he did anything wrong, you may have to put in some work for things to be patched up. 

- He doesn’t pull out the I love you’s very often so when he does, it really makes your heart race and your stomach erupt with butterflies. 

- I don’t see him as being incredibly traditional but I do see him as someone who expects to marry and then provide for you. But hey, maybe you want to live a scandalous life, one with him marrying old rich witches while making love to you and funding your life together on the side. Regardless, he won’t tell you that he wants to marry you but everyone will expect it to happen and tell you that much. 

[novoaa1writes]

candles

image source

pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x reader

summary:

you’ve been feeling strange for the past month, particularly when it comes to dating. 

you do your best to ignore it, thinking it’ll resolve itself on its own—given time, that is.

it doesn’t. 

(and it’s got everything to do with wanda.)

[also available on ao3]

word count: ~5,300

rating: mature

warnings: dark!wanda, NON-CON spanking (with a belt), NON-CON BDSM play, mental manipulation, partial mind control, emotional manipulation, mental coercion, trauma bonding, toxic dynamics, drinking, possessive!wanda, non-con mind-reading, vandalism, adultery (not in reference to you or wanda), brief instances of slut-shaming

notes: [requested by anon] reader’s sexuality isn’t explicitly stated, but ex-partners of different genders are referenced/mentioned

— —

wanda uses a couple bulgarian terms of endearment for reader here, so below is a lil’ list in the order of which they appear.

принцеса | printsesa | princess [feminine term of endearment] мила | mila | honey [feminine term of endearment] любима | lubima | sweetheart [feminine term of endearment]

*note: all of these are exactly one letter away from being precise matches to synonymous terms in russian. HOWEVER, the bulgarian alphabet and the russian alphabet are different—granted, in fairly minor ways. for one, while both are comprised of cyrillic lettering, russian has 33 while bulgarian only has 30.  

— —

You have no fucking clue what’d gotten into you. 

One moment, things were fine—good, even. And the next… well. 

You’ll explain. 

It was something like 11:30 on a Saturday night, and you were drunk. 

Well, not drunk. More like buzzed. 

But whatever, right? Considering the week you’d had, you deserved to let loose, even if only for a night. 

Monday night saw a very angry and decidedly unhinged soccer mom banging on your door, screeching vehemently about the ‘two-faced slut’ who ruined her marriage and demanding to be let in so that she could ‘make her sorry.’ Turns out, the older guy your roommate had been sleeping with as of late was married—not that he’d bothered to share that particular bit of information with her, obviously. 

The two of you spent the better part of the evening barricaded inside, passing a bottle of cheap wine back and forth while trying to explain to the 911 operator that you weren’t messing around, that there really was an angry soccer mom on your doorstep and you were actively fearing for your safety. 

She eventually left around 10:00pm—no thanks to the police, since the 911 operator hadn’t even bothered to give them a call. It wasn’t until the next morning when you left for work that you saw the woman’s parting gift to the pair of you: the word ‘HOMEWRECKER’ spray-painted across the front door in obnoxious red lettering. 

Bye-bye, security deposit. 

That same night, you made your roommate promise to start dating people in a similar age range—because really, the both of you were stressed enough as it was without worrying about coming in between yet another middle-aged couple’s dying marriage. 

The rest of the week wasn’t much better. 

On Thursday, your balding creep of a boss had made yet another blatant pass at you in the workplace, making you seriously consider (and not for the first time) the prospect of just quitting and being done with it. 

Then, at shit o’clock on a Friday morning, you awoke to an urgent phone call informing you that an ex of yours (one you were actually on semi-decent terms with) had gotten into a fairly serious car accident, and still had you marked down as her emergency contact. 

30 minutes later found you showing up at the hospital just moments after your ex’s current girlfriend had arrived, which then prompted the whole ‘you still being your ex’s emergency contact’ revelation when the current girlfriend demanded to know what you were doing there, which ended up being… well, you’ll just say it wasn’t pretty, and leave it at that. 

And your ex was going to be completely fine, anyways. She just had some minor cuts and abrasions, and would need to undergo a fairly minor (read: minimally invasive) surgery over the next couple days. 

Before leaving, you instigated a quick check-in with the doctors to ensure they had everything they needed—which then turned into you providing a list of allergies, as your ex wouldn’t likely be conscious for another couple of hours, and apparently the current girlfriend didn’t know of her sensitivities to penicillin and phenobarbital… which the current girlfriend was less than happy about, if the daggers she glared at you were any indication. 

Whatever. You were just trying to help. 

You thanked the doctors, told them to feel free to call you if anything went awry, then asked if they might tell your ex to call you when she awoke. You thought about offering some words of comfort to the current girlfriend as she sat vigil at your ex’s bedside, but the murderous glower she shot you the moment you got within ten feet of her was more than enough to make you think better of it. 

With that, you left. 

So… yeah. It’d been a shitty week. 

And now, here you were: a girls’ night out at the lively nightclub you and your roommate had scoped out just last weekend, tossing back $12 cocktails and letting the trashy EDM beat blaring over the speakers drown out the rest of your thoughts. 

You’d been feeling a little weird all week—all month, really. 

As far as you were concerned, this was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

 So, when a cute guy wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt that was at least a couple sizes too big yet did well to compliment his well-muscled torso came up to you and started chatting you up at the bar, you didn’t blow him off.

The exact opposite, in fact.

He was nice, and funny, and had a gorgeous smile that made your chest feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol. When he flirted with you, you flirted right back. 

You felt a little guilty for doing so, though you couldn’t exactly put a finger on why that was. Either way, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for very long. 

After all, you’d been feeling hints of that for the past month, if not longer. It seemed to happen whenever you flirted with a cute guy, or went out on another Tinder date with a pretty girl, or even hugged one of your close friends. 

You’d get this painful tightening sensation in your gut, nausea roiling in your abdomen… a distant, lofty voice in your head telling you that this was wrong, that you already belonged to someone else. 

Which was pointless, really. Stupid. 

You were single. 

Your last serious relationship (barring the one with your now-hospitalized ex-girlfriend) had been over seven months ago with an eccentric guy named Lukas. He was kind, well-meaning… a bit of a dork at his very core, but you always found that more endearing than anything else. You’d dated him for four and a half months before deciding to break it off; because as much as you cared for him and enjoyed being around him, you didn’t love him, and you knew by then that you never would. 

You thought about him, from time to time—even missed him now and again.

And yet, the strangest thing about the shameful feeling you’d get whenever your roommate so much as brushed a friendly kiss up against your cheek—it had absolutely nothing to do with Lukas. 

You didn’t know how you knew that, but you did. 

Whatever.

This guy was not Lukas. 

His name was Des—short for Desmond, you learned over your fourth sugary-sweet cocktail of the night. He was charming and slightly foul-mouthed, but conscientious and passably polite where it mattered. He didn’t grope your ass or stare at your tits, nor did he make any lewd commentary about your body in any capacity. 

He also smelled… really good, like Old Spice and spearmint gum and the barest hint of cigarette smoke. 

That was more than enough for you. 

(Whatever, alright? Decent guys were in short supply these days.)

You smiled and let him buy you another drink, even after you’d insisted that he really, really didn’t have to. And when an obnoxious pop song with a beat that was far more catchy than you’d have liked to admit came over the speakers, you let him coax you out to the dance floor with minimal resistance. 

It was… fun. You liked the way his hands rested on either of your hips—gentle, almost careful; holding you like he understood he didn’t have a right to your body, like he was more than content that you allowed him this to even think of demanding any more.

Despite the twinges of guilt flaring in your gut, you let yourself get a little more comfortable… dancing closer and closer to him amidst a packed crowd of writhing bodies, letting your breasts graze up against his chest. 

It was teasing—provocative, even. A test, of sorts—one that Des passed with flying colors. 

He didn’t do a thing to rush you, just kept dancing across from you with his hands on your hips and his darkened gaze on yours—seeming fully content to let you set the pace for the moment. And God, but the way he was looking at you… patient but eager, like he wanted nothing more than to crush your body against his own and grind himself into you like an animal—and yet, still, he held himself back. 

You couldn’t help but find that attractive as hell. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you let your body to press flush against his as you swayed to the beat of the song, not shying away from the slight stiffness you could feel growing against your hip. 

That guilty, nauseous feeling in your gut pulled tighter. 

You ignored it, and, when he leaned a little closer to shout over the deafening music, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”... well. 

You wasted absolutely no time in lunging up on the tips of your toes to capture his lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss, the strobe lights of the club fading into obscurity around you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours—tentative, at first, until you pressed a little harder and traced the seam of his lips with your tongue… and, yeah; that did the trick. 

A moment later, his lips parted to let out a quiet groan directly into your mouth as he began to reciprocate in earnest, setting every nerve ending on your body alight with electrifying want. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a twisted sort of clarity hit you square in the chest—slowly, and then all at once. 

The next bits were something of a blur. 

You tore yourself away from Des, turned to forcibly elbow your way through a floor of grinding bodies. You thought you heard him call out your name, and more than a couple people on the dancefloor turned to glare at you as you rudely brushed past them without care—but, whatever. 

You texted… someone, telling them you were headed back to the apartment, so they shouldn’t bother waiting up. The group chat, maybe? 

And now… Now. 

Before you can blink, the past crashes into the present, and you find yourself back outside in the pitch-black night. 

It’s dark… chilly. A brisk wind catches you the moment you stumble out onto the sidewalk, assaulting every inch of your exposed skin like scores of needles piercing your flesh. You whimper, shudder, and hug your arms around your body—trying to warm yourself back up like a scared little kid who forgot their jacket. 

For the first time that night, you regret the tiny black babydoll dress you’d chosen to wear for the evening—and that’s not even to mention the four-inch heels. 

It’s miserable, to be sure, but you can hardly focus on it for very long. 

No, you have to go somewhere. You feel sick, and cold, and wrong in a way you’re loath to even begin explaining to anyone else. 

And your head… you’re positively aching for something—someone to make this better.

You need… Wanda. 

Yes, Wanda is the person you’re looking for. She can make all of this better. 

You don’t know why, but you’re sure of it. You just need to find her. Hopefully she’s spending the night in her apartment on that super cozy sofa of hers, drinking hot chocolate and binge-watching something on Netflix like the two of you did a couple weeks back. 

A fond grin curves your lips at the recollection as you stumble off down the sidewalk, headed for the nearest subway station. 

Another wintry gust of wind hits you square in the chest, and you pinch your forearm hard, silently willing yourself to focus. 

The station should be less than a block down, if you’re remembering correctly. 

At the next street corner, you manage to brandish your pepper spray in one hand while you rummage around in your purse for your MetroCard with the other. 

It’s cold as hell, and you’re probably a little too drunk to be walking through the City streets alone right now, but you don’t much care. 

All you gotta do is find Wanda. That’s all. 

She’ll make everything better again. 

— —

Where everything else is confusing, there’s one part that seems to make sense—Wanda. 

You nearly pick a fight with the card reader at the subway entrance when it makes you swipe your card three times to let you through, and even the stairs leading down to the lower tracks are more of a challenge than they probably should be… and yet, somehow, the rest of it is blessedly simple. A no-brainer, really.  

You know which train you need to take… the blue one that arrives in four minutes. You know you need to stay on it for five stops before getting off. 

Once you’re up at ground level, you’ll have a short walk ahead of you—one that you know like the back of your hand despite only ever having been to Wanda’s a couple of times. 

You’ll enter Wanda’s apartment building, take the elevator right up to floor four, and boom! Home free. 

You do exactly that.

It takes a short time (thankfully) and there’s not an ounce of uncertainty within you all the while, like you’ve done this 100 times before.  

In seemingly no time at all, you’re there—standing on Wanda’s doorstep, knocking a couple times just beneath the burnished bronze ‘4A’ nailed into her door. 

Your head feels all light and dizzy; you’re still shuddering from the time you spent out in the cold; but—

“One sec!” Wanda’s muffled voice comes from inside, the mere sound of it washing over you like a soothing balm—promising relief. 

You’re safe now. 

You made it.  

— —

The moment the door swings open to reveal a bleary-eyed Wanda Maximoff dressed in tiny grey pajama shorts, an oversized Star Trek T-shirt, and nothing else, it’s like everything falls back into place. 

It’s like… like you can breathe again.

You’re still drunk, and shivering, and more than a bit confused; but now that Wanda’s awake and here and smirking like she knows exactly what’s happening even if you don’t, you feel… better, somehow. Not nearly so lost as you were before. 

“Y/N,” Wanda greets, stepping aside and offering out a hand to help you inside. You’re quick to take it. “I was not expecting you,” she drawls, though everything about her demeanor is saying the opposite as she shuts and locks the door behind you. 

You pay it little mind. “Yeah, I... ” you trail off, turning to face her even as an embarrassed flush warms your cheeks. All of a sudden, you can’t help but feel rather ridiculous for knocking on her door and barging in so late—especially without calling first. “I’m so sorry, I...  I don’t know why I’m here.”

Wanda just tilts her head, appraising you curiously even as the ghost of a knowing smile curves her lips. “Are you sure about that?”

The heat in your cheeks seems to intensify tenfold at that. “I… I need to tell you something,” you hear yourself say, and the moment it’s registered, you realize that it’s true. 

You feel… guilty, all of a sudden. Nauseous, too. Scared. 

You danced with that guy—Des. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… You kissed him. Why would you do that?

In the present moment, Wanda nods, like that makes perfect sense. Like all of this makes perfect sense. 

“Okay,” she acquiesces lightly, flares of crimson flitting through her measured gaze. “Is it something I’ll have to punish you for?”

‘Punish’ me? What—?

You feel Wanda’s presence in your head… inconspicuous tendrils sifting through your thoughts, worming their way through your scattered memories. 

No point in lying. 

“Y-Yes,” you hear yourself say. Much like earlier, it isn’t until the moment you’ve confirmed it aloud that you know it to be true. You danced with someone else. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… kiss you. “I… I’m so sorry, Wanda; I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You see the moment Wanda finds it—your memories of the nightclub. Meeting Des at the bar. Flirting with him… Kissing him. 

The look on her pretty features goes from bemused to disbelieving to absolutely murderous in zero seconds flat, and the realization hits like a freight train that you’re really in for it now. 

Fuck. 

“Go to the bedroom,” she snarls, her typically blue-green eyes burning with scarlet light. “Then take off that slutty dress. I want you on the bed, face down, naked. Do you understand?”

Your head is spinning; confusion rears its ugly head in your gut even as every ounce of your being screams at you to just obey—‘cause if you can just do that, the rest of it will start to make sense. (Maybe.) “O-Okay.”

— — 

You don’t know how you know the way to Wanda’s bedroom, but you do. 

You slip inside a room shrouded in darkness, and no matter how it strains your eyes to look around, you don’t dare turn on the light. 

It’s a modestly-sized bedroom with hardwood flooring, fairy lights along one wall, and an adjoining bathroom just opposite the entrance. There’s a tall, wooden dresser pressed up against the wall directly across from a large, king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all the detail you can manage to make out in the darkness.

Well, either way, you suppose it isn’t really your business. 

Wanda gave you specific instructions, and you intend to follow them. 

Not for the first time tonight, you’re quite happy about the babydoll dress you’re wearing—particularly for how easy it is to pull it up over your head and off, leaving you in panties and a strapless bra in a matter of moments. 

You fold the dress neatly in your hands, then leave it atop the dresser. Your panties and bra come next. In seconds, you’ve formed a small, tidy pile. 

As you step out of your heels and approach the neatly-made bed, you’re struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu… like you’ve done this before.

It lingers in the forefront of your mind as you crawl up onto the bed, biting back a groan at how easily the plush mattress gives way under your hands and knees. 

God, you’d kill to have a nice nap in this absolute cloud of a bed.

You shake the thought off, simultaneously willing the haze of intoxication fogging up your brain to abate.

You’re not here to nap. 

You settle face-down onto the bed, just like Wanda said. You’re careful not to rest your face on the pillows, though, since you have the distinct feeling that’s not something Wanda would want you doing without permission.

Instead, you fold your arms and rest your head atop your forearm, staring straight down into nothing. You scrunch up your features and let out a quiet huff as the black duvet tickles the tip of your nose. 

It smells like her—all of it does. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something indefinable; something that belongs to Wanda, and Wanda alone. 

You feel your body stiffen as a familiar set of footsteps draw near, approaching the room where you lie—naked and vulnerable atop Wanda’s bed.

The patter of Wanda’s gait becomes almost soundless as she enters, circling around the bed over towards the nightstand. You don’t dare to turn your head and watch as she pulls out one of the drawers, rummaging through it until she finds… well, whatever it is she’s looking for, you suppose. 

A moment later, there’s the telltale chk! of a match being struck, and a hiss as the phosphorous tip lights itself aflame. 

It’s quiet for a minute... then two. The only sounds you can hear are your breathing and the strike of a match every time Wanda lights another. 

Gradually, gentle flares of light grow in your periphery, bathing the room in a dim, yellow-y glow. She’s lighting candles—a lot of them. 

You’ve always loved candles. 

A couple minutes later, she’s finished, and she returns to tuck the matchbox safely back in the drawer. 

You lose track of her as she retreats once more, and your mounting curiosity is more than piqued when you hear her rummaging through the dresser near the foot of the bed; still, you don’t dare turn and look. 

Instead, you wait, fetid nausea churning low in your gut, pinpricks of apprehension dancing across every inch of exposed skin. Your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage as she takes something out from the dresser drawer, then shuts it with an audible thud!

You swallow the lump in your throat and urge yourself to focus on your breathing. 

In, out. 

In, out. 

In… out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice comes from somewhere behind you, genuine hurt coloring her hushed tone. 

You have to fight the urge to shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “I… I’m sorry, Wanda,” you say meekly, pathetically, cheeks hot with shame. 

And the worst part? You’re not lying. 

You listen carefully for the sounds of her bare feet padding across the floor as she circles the bed once more, crouching down right beside you in the very corner of your periphery. 

“Look at me,” she orders, gentle yet firm. 

You do. 

The moment you meet her gaze, you can’t help the errant thought entering your mind that she looks so pretty like this—face bare of makeup; long brown hair piled into a messy bun atop her head; dainty features cast into darkened shadows by the low, yellow light of burning candles clustered together atop the nightstand. 

The muted light seems to soften her anger, her pain… allowing her to really look her age for the very first time since you’ve known her. 

“You think too loudly, Y/N.” Wanda’s words are dry, almost teasing as they jolt you back into reality. “Focus on me, please.”

You do. 

“You belong to me,” she asserts after a beat of silence, an uncharacteristically intent and almost solemn look splayed across her dimly-lit features. “I thought you understood that.”

The words confuse you even as they seem to resonate poignantly with some fundamental part of you… a part of you that categorically refuses to be ignored. 

“Wanda…” you trail off, bewilderment and contrition warring violently within your chest until it aches to draw breath. “I’m confused, Wanda,” you whimper out finally, overwhelmed tears burning in your eyes. “I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening—” 

Wanda cuts you off with a derisive snort. “Yes, clearly,” she agrees, her tone ripe with sardonic ire. “You’ve forgotten yourself. You’ve forgotten who owns you.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “Is that why…” You search Wanda’s eyes intently. “... I-I felt sick, an-and… guilty about dancing with Des.”

Something like anger flares in her gaze, hot and bitter, and you have to resist the urge to shrivel beneath it. “That boy had no right to touch what’s rightfully mine.”

“B-But then… why didn’t I remember?” you ask, utterly forlorn. “I-I felt it last weekend, too, but I… I didn’t—” 

“Last weekend?” Wanda repeats, features hardening.

Oh, shit. You feel your cheeks get hot again. “I… I shouldn’t have brought it up, Wan’, I’m sorry—”

“What happened last weekend?” she interjects, her tone cold and hard like a double-edged blade. “You can tell me yourself, or I can start looking.”

You shiver. “I… I went on a-a… a date with a girl that I met online,” you admit, tears welling in your eyes even as Wanda’s jaw visibly tightens. “I-It was just the one time! A-And nothing happened; we didn’t even k-kiss! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t know—”

“Yes. You’re right; you didn’t know.” Wanda stands abruptly, then, and it’s at that moment that you see the folded belt in her hands—thick, worn leather with a sterling silver buckle. 

An icy sense of dread blossoms in your chest, chilling you from the inside out. 

Is she going to—? 

“I was indulgent before… I let you get away with far too much. I will not make the same mistake again.”

With that, she turns to circle back around the bed, the belt buckle audibly jangling in her hands with every step. 

“I have to punish you, принцеса,” she continues, her voice scarcely more than a whisper as she comes to stand near the foot of the bed—and somehow, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no convincing her otherwise. 

She’s going to punish you, and it’s going to hurt. Bad. 

All at once, panic seizes you. You squirm, writhing in an effort to get up and off the bed—

Only to be stopped by tendrils of lurid crimson curling around either wrist, forcing them together just over your head like magic—glowing crimson cuffs holding both arms fast to the headboard. On a whim, you test your legs—tensing and pulling, only to be met with iron-clad resistance encircling either ankle in a tight, unrelenting grip. 

Well, fuck.

“W-Wanda,” you plead, hardly paying any mind to the way your voice trembles. “Please, I—I don’t want—”

“I do not enjoy punishing you, мила,” she laments, almost sounding genuinely apologetic. It tugs at your heartstrings in a curious way—something you really don’t have time to examine right now. “But you did something bad. And when you do bad things, there are consequences. You understand that, don’t you?”

A tear trickles down your cheek, warm and wet as you steel yourself for the first hit. “Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Wanda lauds, and you can’t help the surge of warmth that washes over you at the simple praise—the pride that blooms in your chest at knowing you’ve finally done something right. “Now—try and relax, принцеса, okay?”

It’s all the warning you get before the first blow comes down upon your bare arse with a resounding Crack!

White-hot pain flares across your bottom, racing up your spine like wildfire and tearing a strangled whimper from your throat. 

Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt—

Crack!

Crack!

Holy fuck. 

The impact of the leather against your naked cheeks leaves strips of fire burning in its wake, expelling all the air from your lungs in a choked-out rush. 

“P-Please, no, Wan’,” you beg breathlessly, struggling in vain even as coils of vibrant scarlet hold you fast, “it hurts, please—”

Crack!

“This is for your own good, baby,” Wanda coos, sounding for all the world as though she truly believes every word of it. 

Crack! This one lands directly across your sit spot, ripping a shriek from your lips as molten agony rocks you to your core. 

“Wan’—Fuck, please, no—”

Crack!

“G—God, fuck, pleasestop, please—”

Crack!

“P—Please, hurtssobad, I’m—”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

“FUCK !”

Tears stream down your cheeks, wetting the black duvet beneath your face. You’re absolutely beside yourself with torment, your bare ass aflame with a pain unlike any you’ve ever known. 

Crack!

Crack!

… And the hits just keep coming—raining down stripes of blistering heat across your sore, bruised buttocks; pummeling your throbbing, exposed rear until it feels as though the entire area has just become one puffy, pulsating bruise. 

Crack!

All the fight has completely gone out of you; now, your body completely slack—devoid of any resistance even as every hit seems to sear itself into your impossibly tender bottom like a third-degree burn… The pain is absolutely incredible, unlike any else you’ve ever known.

You’ll do anything—and you really do mean anything—to make it stop. 

“P-P-Please, stop it, Wanda, PLEASE—”

Crack! Another hit directly across your burning sit spot rips a watery sob from your throat, followed by—  

Crack!

Crack!

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from hyperventilating until you pass out. 

Crack!

Agony blackens the edge of your vision, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks as you await another strike… 

But it doesn’t come. 

Wh—?

“Have you learned your lesson, мила?” Wanda asks, and this time, her voice comes from closer… like she’s right beside you. 

You don’t have it in you to be startled when a feather-light kiss lands itself between your shoulder blades, nor when one hand begins stroking up and down your heaving torso in soothing motions. 

“Y-Yes! I—please, God, yes,” you babble, overwhelmed by the sensation of unadulterated pain branding every inch of your battered arse. “I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do it again, Wan’—Won’t ever be with anyone else—jus-just please stop hurting me—I’ll be so good, please—”

“Shh,” Wanda shushes you tenderly. You feel yourself twitch as the mattress suddenly dips beside you. “It’s okay, любима,” she soothes, coming to rest beside you. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

‘Breathe’...

Your pulse thunders in your ears; your ass is on fire with an anguish far beyond your years; and yet, there’s something undoubtedly soothing about her words as they wash over you in gentle waves… something that tells you you’re safe.  

Were you a little more lucid, you might’ve found that quite the nonsensical paradox—this feeling of safety and security with the woman who’d just beaten your arse raw without mercy no matter how you wailed and sobbed and begged for her to stop. 

But as it is, you’re not. 

Instead, you’re just broken and teary-eyed and in pain, and Wanda’s tenderness is a most welcome respite to alleviate that excruciating ache. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath, even if it burns your lungs something awful, and force yourself to let it out slowly. 

In, out. 

In, out.

In… out.

“That’s it, мила,” Wanda praises gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing so well… Just like that.” Her fingers come to rest beneath your chin, urging you to turn and face her…

And you do, far too exhausted to even think of doing anything other than what she tells you to. Your lungs burn; your nose runs; and the pain in your bottom hasn’t abated any—if anything, it’s intensified.

You’re more than happy to be given something else to focus on.  

When you look at her, her blue-green eyes are wet—glossy with tears.

“Wanda?” you manage weakly, feeling your brow crease with worry. “You ‘kay?”

Wanda sniffles, huffs out a watery-sounding laugh. “Yes, Y/N, I’m alright,” she whispers, then leans forth to plant a gentle kiss upon the tip of your nose. “I’m just so very, very proud of you.”

Despite yourself, you feel a pleased flush spread throughout your body at that. “Really?” you mumble, exhaustion drooping your eyelids until it’s a challenge just to keep them open. 

Wanda nods, a tear sliding out of her eye that you yearn to reach forth and catch with your thumb—but alas, you’re far too weak. “Really.” 

You hum, burrowing your face further into the duvet beneath your cheek—even if it is still damp with your tears. “‘M sorry I was bad, Wan’,” you murmur, feeling darkness near on every side. “Didn’t mean’ta make you upset.”

“I don’t like punishing you, принцеса,” she says once more, and this time, you have no reason to doubt that she means it. Honestly, you don’t know how you ever could. “It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

You hum again. Your eyelids feel too heavy to open. “‘M sorry,” you say. “Gonna do better… make you proud… I promise.”

Wanda chuckles. The sound of it makes your chest feel loose and warm and happy. “You already do, darling girl,” she murmurs. You don’t know if it’s because she’s whispering, or you’re fading into sleep, but you can barely hear her when she repeats it once more: “You already do.”

Sleep descends upon you, then, and you succumb to it willingly, feeling safer and more at peace than you have in a very long time. 

— —

tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui​

— —

end notes: yeah i don’t know what this is either. i was only aiming for maybe 1,000 words or something, but things happened and...

look. i haven’t been to therapy in a hot minute, ok?

link to masterlist

[hangovercurse]

Jawbreaker

You’ve been dodging Colson’s advances for once, but when he shows up at 6 in the morning, you finally decide to give in.

Request: “I love your writing can you write a Colson x reader using the song jawbreaker with some fluff and smut, maybe on the beach?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: smut, cursing

A/N: this is so much longer than I meant it to be (it was going to be longer but I cut it off bc I needed to post this) (Also, I’ve never had sex on the beach so… apologies for any inaccuracies but I tried my best lmao)

Word Count: 2861

Who the hell was calling you at 5 in the morning?

The light from the phone screen burned your eyes slightly as Colson’s name came into view. You sighed out before answering, “why do you do this?”

The man on the other end of the phone snickered, “good, you’re awake. I’ll be at your house in 20.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion and discuss, “no the fuck you will not. I was asleep.”

He chuckled, “we’re going to the beach.”

“Colson, I have work to do.” This was not the first time he had pulled an extravagant stunt to try and get your attention, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N, how do you still have work to do, you work all the time.” He groaned in frustration, “you’re coming with me, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You rolled your eyes, “well, that’s the answer I’m giving.” You hung up the phone, unable to see the disappointed expression on his face when you did.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Colson, you did. You just didn’t swoon over him like every other woman in his life, which apparently only made him try to get your attention even more.

After you hung up you fell back asleep, not considering that he might actually show up at your door in 20 minutes. So, when he did, you wanted to kill him.

“Colson, I told you. I have work to do.”

Admittedly, the sight of him in a sheer tank top and low hanging swim shorts on your doorstep was one that would occupy your mind for a while. But you still refused to give him the attention he craved.

He smiled innocently, “you can take vacation days.” Your expression was unamused, prompting him to continue, “you work too hard, just take one day off with me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I work a normal amount and I take vacation days. Just not with you.”

Colson pouted, tilting his head to the side, “that hurt.”

A chuckle fell from your lips with a roll of your eyes, “if I go today will you stop calling me before 9 am?”

He shrugged, “probably not.”  

You groaned, moving to let him enter your house reluctantly. “Give me like 10 minutes,” you sighed, moving to your room to grab your sexiest bikini. Despite your reluctancy, you decided that if you were going to go, you might as well make it fun. You threw a long, slightly see-through shirt on top, the material not doing all that much to hide what was underneath.

After fixing up the rest of your appearance, you moved to find Colson, who you had left in the living room. He was lounging on the couch when you appeared, his jaw dropping dramatically.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, moving to stand in front of him. “Are we leaving or are you just gonna sit there all day?”

He stuttered, his face blushing red, “uh- yeah, let’s- uh- let’s go.”  You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him off the couch gently and leading him to the door. You grabbed your sunglasses on the way out, catching the time; 5:32.

Colson opened the car door for you, helping you in. As soon as he got onto the main road, his right hand moved to rest on your thigh. Your first instinct was to say something snarky about it, or just remove it altogether, but you decided to let yourself relax for the day.

It was hard to say what you and Colson were. You weren’t dating per se, but you were certainly more than friendly. Colson had a habit of calling you at all hours of the night and early morning, asking you to hang out with him or full on (drunk) confessing his adoration for you. You always rejected his advances, knowing you had no time for a relationship and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of falling for him. But there was always a part of you that craved him, and his constant flirting and touching didn’t help anything.

The ride to the beach was relaxing; Colson had the windows rolled down to let the wind encase your body. The cold contrasted with the warmth that his hand sent running through you, his thumb rubbing small circles onto the bare skin. He blared music through the speakers, singing along despite the early hours. You giggled as he gave very dramatic performances, eventually singing along with him.

When you arrived, he reached in the trunk to get the large blanket he had placed there earlier. With his free hand he grasped your hand, intertwining your fingers. You sent him a questioning look but didn’t pull away.

The beach was empty except for a few people walking the shoreline. Colson spread out the blanket in a small area closer inland, fairly hidden from the view of the rest of the beach. He pulled off his shirt slowly, showing off his tattooed chest and muscular torso. You did everything you could to stop yourself from staring. He made no effort to keep his eyes off of you as you rid yourself of your shirt.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the water, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He smirked, “can I really?” You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly. The water ran over your toes, the coldness surprising you. The man laughed as you squealed lightly, jumping back in shock.

“It’s cold,” you tried to defend yourself, but he kept laughing. “You’re a jerk,” you pouted, kicking water towards him. He narrowed his eyes playfully, waddling further into the water and returning the gesture. “Colson!”

Before you knew it, a splashing war had started between you two, which ended with Colson dragging you further into the water. You whined as it hit the top of your thighs, shivers running through your body. Colson chuckled teasingly, “are you cold?”

“Yes,” you moved closer to him, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders, “you wouldn’t understand because the water is barely hitting above your knees.”

He looked down at you with a mischievous expression before leaning down and picking you up, bridal style. “Put me down!” You tried to sound serious, but your laughter exposed your amusement.

Colson shrugged, “if you say so.” Before you could protest, he lightly threw you into the water.

When you emerged, you had a pout on your face, “I hate you.”

He laughed, “I know you do.” He moved towards you, arms reaching out to grab your waist. He pulled you into his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own. “Let’s go warm up,” he pulled away and laced your hands together again, leading you back to your spot on the beach.

You settled onto the blanket while Colson grabbed a towel from his car, wrapping it around you when he returned. He sat down beside you, his legs spread out in front of him. You climbed into his lap, leaning into his chest to find more warmth. When he chuckled at your actions, you hushed him, “you’re warm, shut up.”

He teased you, “I think you just want to be close to me.”

You scrunched your nose playfully, “who’d want to be close to you?” He shook his head playfully before leaning his chin on the top of your head.

It was quiet for a little while after that, both of you relaxing in each other’s arms. It was interrupted by Colson, “hey, look.”

You lifted your head to send a confused look to him, only to find his gaze on the sky. Moving your vision to where his was focused, you found the sky a beautiful array of pink and orange. A smile came to your face at the beauty of it all. “I haven’t watched the sun rise in so long,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting with your back against his chest.

His hands placed themselves on your lower stomach gently as he leaned towards you and whispered, “that’s why I brought you out here this early.”

You looked up at him over your shoulder, “thank you.”

He shrugged, “told you, you need a break.” You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up and pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

You began to move away before his lips caught yours, keeping you in place. The kiss was unexpected, but you found yourself easily falling into it. His lips were smooth against your own, the movements perfectly in sync.

You shifted so that you were on your knees facing him, arms finding their place around his neck. His hands gripped your sides as his tongue slid across your lips. Your lips parted to let him in, deepening the kiss. You let one of your hands travel up and down his torso, feeling the muscles underneath your fingers.

Colson’s hand moved down to your thigh, pausing at your ass momentarily to massage the skin. He moved one leg at a time so that you were straddling him from your knees, his bulge growing ever more apparent to you. You moaned quietly as you started grinding on him, only the very thin fabric of your bathing suits covering you.

His lips detached from yours, “we should stop before we- uh-“

You rolled your eyes, cutting him off, “what, scared of getting caught?”

He scoffed, “I was trying to be a gentleman and say we could go do this somewhere with less sand, but whatever you want, m’lady.”

A laugh rolled off your tongue before you pecked his lips lightly, “you’re cute.” You pecked his lips again, grinding onto him again, “but you started this here, so you’re gonna finish it here.”

Colson smirked, lips finding yours immediately. His hands moved to the towel that had fallen to your feet, using it to cover up your middle. “Turn around,” he whispered, and you did as he said. , sliding off his lap for a moment so that he could pull his member out of his pants, rolling on a condom that he’d had in his pocket.

You chuckled, “was this your plan all along?” You placed your knees on either side of him once again, making sure the towel was placed across your lap properly.

He reached for your waist, pulling you closer to him and undoing the ties on either side of your bikini bottoms, “I was being hopeful.”

His lips found your neck as you lifted your hips and slowly slid his length into you. You let out a hum, biting your lip to keep any actual moans from coming out. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” he muttered against your skin.

You whined quietly as his hands on your waist led you up and down him slowly. You placed your own hands against his thighs to keep yourself balanced. Your pace sped up, hips moving to collide with his needily.

He filled you up fully, hitting your walls and setting every nerve in your body on fire. It didn’t take very long for you to begin clenching around him. His pants and kisses against your neck made every feeling even more intense. “’m close, Kells,” you whined, grinding yourself into him even harder.

He growled against your skin, hands still controlling the majority of your movements, “I know, princess. Just hold on a little longer.” He began to thrust his hips up into you harshly, going deeper into your core than he had before.

You couldn’t hold in the moans anymore, the noises spilling from your mouth with every thrust. He smirked, “that’s it, baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Mm, please. I’m so close,” you whined, trying to hold off your release as long as possible. Colson didn’t say a word, he only continued to thrust up into you for a few more moments before twitching inside of you.

His thrusts got sloppy as he approached his climax, his voice sending you over the edge. “Cum around me, babe.”

Fireworks spread through your body as you came, your orgasm washing over you heavily. Colson’s seed spilled into the condom inside of you, his thrusts slowing before stopping completely.

You lifted yourself off of him, leaning against his chest. You moved with its rise and fall, his heavy breaths filling your ears. He pressed lazy kisses to your cheek and jaw as the two of you came down, whispering into your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Smiling, you put your bikini bottoms on, still under the cover of the towel. Once you were both decent enough to make it to the water, you climbed out of his lap and stood up, pulling him with you. He followed you lazily to the water, hands once again finding your hips and pulling you towards him.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, eyes shining brightly, “glad you came?”

“A little,” you giggled, reconnecting your lips.

 A few hours later the two of you packed up and went back to your place, a sleepy haze finding its way to your mind. You had tried to stay awake as long as possible, but Colson could tell you were struggling to keep your eyes open. So, when he suggested a nap, you easily agreed. You curled up in his arms, sleep overtaking you almost instantly.

It was around 6 pm when you woke up to your phone vibrating. You groaned, untangling yourself from Colson and climbing off of the bed.

“Hello?” You answered the phone call.

Your manager’s voice rang through the phone, “Hey, Y/N! I thought you were going to get those sides to me today?”

You groaned, having completely forgotten about the work you’d needed to do today. “Yeah, I’ll get ‘em to you tonight, what time do you need them?”

“The director was hoping by 8 pm, think you can swing that?”

You sighed, thankful that you had at least recorded most of the material the day before, “I can try.” Your manager thanked you before hanging up, leaving you to let out an annoyed groan.

You felt a pair of hands around your waist, Colson’s familiar tattoos alerting you to their owner. “What was that about?” His voice was riddled with sleep, making you want to do nothing but lie in bed with him the rest of the day.

Instead, you turned to face him with a sigh, “I have to record some stuff for this audition before 8 tonight.” He pouted, leaning down to kiss you. You moved your head so that his lips met your cheek, making the man huff. “Colson, you should go home.”

He groaned, “it’s your day off, you shouldn’t have to do work.”

“You decided it was my day off, I told you I had work to do.” You giggled, pushing away from him, “I can’t record if you’re here.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he pleaded, his lips moving down to suck on your jaw.

You pushed him away gently, “that’s not what I mean. You’re a distraction, I won’t get anything done in time if you’re here.” You smiled fondly at his poutiness.

“You work too much.”  

Moving away from him, you chuckled, “I’m being serious, Kells.”

“Are you really kicking me out?” He huffed, tilting his head to the side. You simply nodded in response, to which he responded, “are we going to talk about today?”

You sighed, “not right now. I have to get this stuff done.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, moving towards your door, “okay, I’m gone.”

You watched the man walk out the door, conflicted between wanting to pull him back inside and never let him leave and wanting to lock the door and never let him back in.

 At 6am, you were awoken by a knock at your door. Why does this keep happening to you?

You weren’t going to answer it, hoping whoever it was would just go away, but once you heard the “Y/N? I know you’re home,” you knew they wouldn’t.

“Colson, it’s six in the morning, what are you doing?” You took in the man’s appearance, his bloodshot eyes, red cheeks, and stench alerting you to his far from sober state.

He slurred his words when he spoke, “I wanted to see you.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe, “did you drive here?” The man nodded, dangling his keys in your face. “How the hell are you not dead?” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the keys from his hand, “c’mon, I’m driving you home.”

He stumbled forward, trying to stop you from moving towards his car, “let’s just hang out here.”

“Colson, it is 6 in the morning and you’re crossed on my doorstep, I’m taking you home.” You tried to push past him, but even wasted he was stronger than you.

He whined, “I came to see you, don’t make me leave.”

At this point, you were too tired to fight with him, “fine, but I’m going back to sleep.”

He laughed mischievously, stepping closer to you, and wrapping an arm around your waist, “no you aren’t.”

Tag list:

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[slytherinnbitch]

Day 7: Proposal

Since this marks one week, this is going to be extra long!

"Goodbye love," Draco says as he leaves Grimmauld Place a little late.

Harry was dressing when he left him in the room, he casts a tempus charm just outside the door. It's almost noon, Salazar knew why Harry didn't even bat an eyelid at his late morning.

He apparates to the Maya Magal in London, it's apparantly the best place to get engagement rings and both Pansy and Hermione vouch for it.

A handsomely dressed woman, probably Draco's age, greets him at the door and takes him inside.

"What would you be looking for today, sir?" she asks politely.

"Engagement rings, thank you."

"Do you have any choice or maybe a reference picture?"

"No, just something light and simple would do. He doesn't like heavy jewels or jewels for that matter." Draco says, belatedly realising that he used the masculine pronoun instead of the neutral one, Hermione had told him that Muggles didn't always see eye to eye with same gender relationships like Wizards and Witched did.

But the lady doesn't even hesitate before giving him a smile and leading him towards the middle of the store. She starts showing him a myriad of rings- all of them elegant and classy with intricate designs but nothing that would suit Harry.

After almost four hours of looking at almost each and every ring in the shop, he picks a simple band which a mixture of platinum and gold with tiny diamonds adorning it's edges. He immediately knows that this is it.

The lady smiles at him again, not a single sign in her face saying that she is frustrated or annoyed that Draco took such a long time.

"Would you like to engrave something on the inside?"

"Yes sure." Draco replies, he instantly knows what he wants. In the end, the lady- Lara tells him to come back in two hours for the ring to be ready and he thanks her and gets going.

A tempus charm shows him that he has about three hours to get home before Harry starts to suspect anything and that's plenty of time. He apparates to the cementry in Godric's hollow.

"Hello," he greets James and Lily as he sits down beside their grave on the ground, "So I wanted to ask you for Harry's hand. I know it's an ancient practice and well, you are dead but I want to do this right. I was raised this way and I'm rambling."

He takes a moment conjure some flowers before he starts talking again, "So I want to marry your son. Why should he marry me? I don't know that. Merlin, I don't even know why he loves me. Me, who is an angry arsehole to everyone and who never smiles. Weasley's definition not mine, just so you know. I can tell you why I love him though? Maybe that will be enough to convince you both. Harry, he has always been my guiding star. I don't know how but even in school when we were at each other's throats, he had been someone constant, someone always there. No matter in what way, just there. And afterwards, the war where well you know things happened and I was so bloody naive but he was there as well. He had been my only hope back then, that Harry might be able to save all of his from the doom which was Vol-voldemort. And he did, he even initiated the house unity in Eighth year and then we got seperated because of our careers and look at us now. Both working at the Ministry and even our departments are connected, somewhat. I'm an Unspeakable, you see. You would know that Harry is Head Auror but not about me. I don't know when that star, that hope became my everything. Slowly, but consistently. We grew closer and I can't imagine a day without him anymore. At the end of the day, I need to be around him else I can't fall asleep.

It's been almost twelve years since the war but some scars remain. I'm really hoping that you would look past those and forgive me and accept me as your son's husband-if he says yes that is. Maybe this is all in vain, Harry might just say no and that will be that. But I'm trying not to focus on the negatives right now. Thank you for your sacrifices and thank you so much for giving this world such a kind hearted, selfless person. Thank you for my Harry." He finishes at last, his eyes are slightly tinging but that's alright. No one's here to see him like this anyways.

He talks to them somemore, about everything about him and Harry and how much he loves him and how he would never let Harry feel like he did throughout his childhood and how he plans on proposing Harry on the anniversary of their tenth year together.

Its about 6pm when he leaves the graveyard and goes to pick up the ring.

.........

As soon as Harry hears Draco call out his goodbye, he takes out his notepad from under the socks in the drawer and checks everything he needs to do in order for everything to be perfect tomorrow.

Pick up ring

Ask the parents

Check in with Hermione and Pansy

Order the flowers

He makes goes to the Wizarding Jewelry Place first and asks for the ring.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. The ring is ready and just how you asked it to be. I'll bring it right out," the old man says, who Harry got to know was the owner of the shop from Pansy.

He comes out after several moments and in his hands is a small jewelry box, with intricate golden work over the black satin. The man opens the box and shows Harry the ring, it's perfect with its platinum and gold band and a heavy diamond in the middle of it, he checks the inside and yes, the inscription is just how he had wanted it to be.

He thanks the man and hurries to Wiltshire after making his payment.

He apparates just outside of the Manor gates, after all these years it's fairly easy to enter. The Manor has transformed drastically, and Narcissa and surprisingly, Lucius's warm welcome behaviour had helped immensely.

He had been shocked when he met Lucius as Draco's boyfriend for the first time since the war, it had been after two years of dating Draco and he had been invited over. Gone was the bigoted, slimy bastard he knew, this Lucius was still as much of an arsehole but not the same one. They were not friendly exactly, but he liked to think that he and Lucius got along nowadays. Well it's almost been eight years so he guessed with time anything was possible.

The gates opens to him without any sort of hindrance. Just as he was going to knock on the door, Mipsy opens it and pokes her head out.

"Mipsy is here to greet Harry Potter. Who does Harry Potter like to meet? Master Draco isn't here today."

"Yes, Mipsy I'm aware that Draco isn't here. I'm here to meet Lucius and Narcissa actually." He explains, Mipsy nods her head and vanishes with a small pop, only to return twenty seconds later, and asking Harry to follow her to the parlor.

"Harry, dear. What do we owe this pleasure to?" Narcissa asks as he enters the room.

"Sure you haven't lost your way here? Draco doesn't live here any longer." Lucius says at the same time.

"Yes, Lucius I haven't lost my way and I know Draco doesn't live here any longer, since you know, he lives with me now," he retorts back- Merlin it's weird enough calling Lucius by his name in his head, it's weirder when he says it out loud. "I actually wanted to ask for something."

"See Cissa, I told you he had ulterior motives after all," Lucius says as he looks over Harry suspiciously.

"Oh Lucius, why don't we hear out the young man before you start with all your nonsense." Narcissa says and she waves her hand towards Harry in a way to tell him to continue.

"I want to ask for Draco's hand in marriage." Harry blurts out, the silence that follows is deafening. He looks from Malfoy to the other, both of them seem to be in an intense conversation which is being spoken through their eyes.

It's Lucius who breaks the silence at last, "Why do you want to marry our son? Why should we allow you?"

"Because I love him, I know it can't be as simple as that but that's the gist of it. I love your son with my whole being. I can't imagine a day where I can't see his face or without his insults which have somehow become a constant as well. I tried to find the many reasons for which I should deserve to marry him, I can't find one. But I want to, I want to be deserved enough to marry Draco Malfoy. I want to make him happy for the rest of his life and I want to do this right for once, that's why here I'm asking permission for his hand because even though it doesn't matter nowadays. Draco loves tradition and for him, this is of great significance and I want everything to be right this time." Harry finishes and when he looks over at them, because he had said most of that looking at the carpet, Narcissa's eyes a bit glassy and Lucius who never shows emotion, is actually beaming at him.

"Very well then, Harry. You have both our permission to marry our son and we both would be honoured to welcome you into the Malfoy family. I...I might have been wrong about you afterall." Lucius says and coming from him it's high praise. He is glad both of them and he tells them so and both of them smile fondly at him. They make him stay for tea and afterwards wishes him luck as he floos to Diagon Alley to meet Hermione and Pansy at the new cafe.

"So you got the parents blessings then?" Pansy asks as she takes a sip of her firewhiskey mixed coffee.

"Yup"

"And you have the ring?" Hermione questions as she sets down her wine glass. Seriously is this a cafe or a pub?

"Right here!" He shows them the ring and they coo over it for a minute. "Is this place even a cafe or is that just for the name?"

"It's a cafe and bar, of sorts. They provide a mixture of normal drinks but add alcohol to it. You should try the vodka and peach drink. It's absolutely perfect." Pansy answers as she calls over a waiter.

"No thank you, Pans. I have to go back to my boyfriend who shouldn't even suspect that I have been anywhere but work today. Do you have anything non-alcoholic?" He directs the last question to the waiter who has come.

"Yes, right about everything can be non-alcoholic or purely alcoholic as well. The mixtures are just out speciality."

"Oh then....you know what give me a vodka and peach drink. I deserve it after spending an entire afternoon with two Malfoys." Harry says. The waiter suppresses his amusement and goes to get his order.

Pansy and Hermione snicker at him, "Oh shut it. As if you both wouldn't do the exact same."

They are still chuckling as he discusses the details of the date he had set up for tomorrow. Nowhere public because neither of them liked that, so instead he had picked up a picnic spot for tomorrow night. It would be great fun to propose in the middle of night with only the moons and stars providing them light.

Pansy and Hermione were incharge of setting everything up and they would also be telling Draco that it was a joint anniversary gift to them and they had informed Harry as well. It was the perfect ploy and no one would suspect a thing.

"Alright, the two of you. Enjoy your night, go home safely. I need to get going if I want to make it home before him." Harry says as he gets up and kisses both their cheeks one by one.

"Ron and Blaise will be here shortly so you need not worry about it, darling. We'll be alright on our own till then." Hermione says back and Pansy adds,"Draco never comes home early so you needn't worry about it."

Seriously these two are in so much sync that it terrifies him at times.

He steps out of the cafe and on a impromptu decision apparates to Godric's hollow instead.

...

Draco apparates directly inside the Manor Gates after picking up the ring.

Tabota greets him and tells him that his parents are in the third floor parlor. He makes his way quickly-he doesn't have much time left, he needs to be quick now.

"Hello, love. What a pleasant surprise!" Mother says as he enters.

"Hello Mother," he says and then nods towards his father, "Father,"

"Actually I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. I wanted the Malfoy signet ring." Draco says, getting to the point quickly.

"But I can see you wearing yours, son." Father says.

"Yes I know. I'm- I'm proposing Harry tomorrow." He announces and he is confused by their identical expressions of surprise and then repressed mirth. He didn't except that.

"Is that so?" Father says as he tilts his head, "Very well then, I'll go get it." He leaves the room and Draco is left with his Mother.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling." She says as she comes closer and hugs him.

"Well, I hope he says yes, else..." Draco replies as he hugs her back.

"Oh I'm sure he won't." Father replies as he enters the room. That was surprisingly quick.

"Here you go, son. I'm sure Harry would be quite delighted." He hands Draco the ring and engulfs him in a rare hug as well. Draco can't believe it, his parents approve. Not that he didn't know that, but it's different to know that so explicitly.

"Thank you. I need to get going now. Goodbye." Draco says, his parents murmur their byes and he apparates directly to Grimmauld Place.

Harry's yet to be home, so he decides to hide his ring and take a long bath.

Tomorrow is going to be perfect!

@cupofsquirrelfan hope you like this!

Day 6: Braid || Day 8: Tattoo

Part 2 and Part 3 of Proposal

Requests open || Let me know if you want a part 2 of this

[the-witty-pen-name]

Wallflower

18+ ONLY 

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k 

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation, dirty dreams, implies age gap (reader is in 20s+/of age, just younger than Ezra)

No use of (y/n) in this one!

A/N: I know this was not one of the things I should be working on, and I procrastinated on my coursework yet again to write fan fic. I’m so in love with Ezra and I have wanted to write something for this character for a while. It’s my first time writing for him and I was so intimidated to write something about him because his manner of speaking is so unique that I’m worried I won’t do him justice! Hopefully you all enjoy! 

Next thing I post will be the final part of Rest! It is currently in progress! 

I will be updating my taglist form soon to include Ezra and other Pedro characters I write for so check out for that if you want to be tagged in future fics! 

This is unedited and if I miss something to tag as a warning please let me know!

Tags and Requests and OPEN

“Ezra, for once can you please shut the fuck up. You’re driving me crazy,” you sigh, pulling off your helmet as you both return to your shared pod. It was a fairly long trek from the mining site back to your makeshift home and Ezra, being himself, talked the whole time- not once missing a beat.

“Not once have I ever had the pleasure of conversing with one as eloquently a sweet talker as yourself,” Ezra winks, making you roll your eyes. You weren’t actually mad at him, you could never, but one of the side effects of Ezra was limited moments of peace and quiet. In many ways, you and Ezra were very similar, and it made you really compatible partners.

But unlike Ezra, you really enjoyed quiet. Ezra, on the other hand, has had more than his fill of quiet for his lifetime and he basked in the ability to vocalize his every passing thought to you. It wasn’t often you felt the need to tell him to stop, but today had been particularly challenging and you couldn’t think of anything else besides the quiet of night and a good rest.

Ezra and you worked well because you were so much alike, but your differences also paired you two nicely. Ezra was without a doubt the biggest and most long-winded talker you had ever met and you were the best listener, opting to be the silent one in the conversation more times than not. You weren’t necessarily shy, just someone of a quieter nature. You mostly kept to yourself, by choice really, while Ezra struggled with solitude, it was one of the strengths of yours that you were able to endure it better than he could.

When you first met Ezra, he had called you wallflower, cause frankly you were one. Settled in the far corner of the pod with your notebook in hand, sketching instead of talking with the rest of the crew, Ezra made the effort to saunter over to you and made it his personal mission since day one to break you out of your shell. Made sure during mealtimes, he sat next to you, talked to you, asked you questions. Frankly, you owe the friendship you have with him now to his openness and talkative nature.

“Flower, I hope my parley on the trek back didn’t offend,” he says as he sheds off his suit.

“Not at all,” you say with a small smile, “Sometimes my meter runs out on my ability to listen. Tires me out.”

“I suppose I can understand,” Ezra replies, “I honestly seem to have the opposite problem, all my years in the Green, I never had the pleasure of someone to listen to besides my lonesome. Now that I have you, I find myself utterly unable to suppress my desire of spoken prose and I’m afraid I do tend to take advantage of your gentle nature.”

You nod, understanding him very well. It was coming up on seven months since you and Ezra had been on your own. The other three members of your crew had parted ways with you both, seeking out a better treasure.

Ezra, knowing what this planet and greed does, insisted on just doing his job and leaving, and you strongly agreed. It had been so long since the three of them went off for the buried riches, and you don’t even know if they will be returning to your pod at your scheduled time of departure in a few months’ time. Ezra told you stories about how he’s witnessed this job change people, and how he’s seen planets swallow up one’s humanity with no forgiveness. He was doubtful that any of them would return, and you were now starting to realize that his prediction since the beginning was correct.

Once your suit was off and put away, you smoothed out your hair as best you could by touch without a mirror, and headed over to the storage cubby where you both had your rations and grabbed you both a bar. You tossed one over to Ezra and he caught it effortlessly. Peeling back the wrapper of yours, you took a bite and collapsed on your cot.

“I never thought I’d miss those meals they served in the mess hall up in the station,” you comment, “I’d take a portion of those watery mashed potatoes and mystery meatloaf in a heartbeat if it meant I never had to touch one of these bars again.”

Your words made Ezra chuckle, his laugh deep and husky. You loved it. Your chest always swelled with pride just a tad when you had the ability to make him laugh or smile. More often, it was always him getting those reactions from you with his words and you liked the feeling when you were able to return the favor.

You closed your eyes, not falling asleep, just letting them rest while you chewed the rubbery ration. Ezra, tore through his always rather quickly, and he noticed that you still tried to savor yours despite your complaints. Like the taste, even though lacking and the texture terrible, was still like a reward for completing another hard day’s work. He admired that about you. You hadn’t been working this job as many years as him, as he was a few (plus a few more) years your senior. The things about this job he’s long since ignored or has gotten used to, still affected you. You still tried to taste your food, instead of scoffing it down like him and other seasoned prospectors.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt flushed knowing that he had been caught. It wasn’t intentional, more and more it was hard to keep his mind clear of thoughts of you.

“Sorry, flower,” he mutters, and you smirk, rendering him speechless for the first time all day.

It was undeniable that Ezra’s feelings for you were bubbling up closer and closer to the surface each passing day he spent in your company. You grounded him in ways he hadn’t realized he had needed. He needed someone to reign in his ramblings and tether him back when he lets his mind wander too deep. He needed you. There was this dependency that tied him to you now more than he ever experienced with another partner. It was friendship, sure. But he’s been friendly with partners past, and not once has he felt about them what he feels towards you.

He was a hopeless romantic, his thoughts of love and relationships were as poetic as the words he spoke. Yearning, completely head over heels, his mind constantly cluttered with scenarios of the ways he would court and win your affection if there was no inkling that lingered in his mind that was there to remind him it was a bad idea. You were much more practical than he ever hoped to be, much more wired for logic than he was. However, Ezra was blissfully unaware of how he had begun to rub off on you.

You found yourself daydreaming, caught up in your own little fantasies and escapes from reality, far more often than you had ever in your lifetime. Ezra, always the star at the center of it all. Living a life where you could stay with him somewhere more permanent, different career that didn’t require you both to float from planet to planet, chasing after prizes that weren’t actually yours- you just acted as a vessel, a taxi service for someone else’s riches.

You imagine scenarios where you would have met Ezra at a different time, or a different place. However, you often scolded yourself for allowing your stupid crush to occupy so much of your time. You were here for a job. And then you will leave and move on to your next one like always. It would be too painful to face rejection anyways, you reason. You can imagine the look on his face, thinking about the nicest way possible to reject you. That’s what you want to avoid, the pity. The niceties that will be forced after his inevitable rejection. The first friendship you’ve had the pleasure of having in years are gone just like that.

The pod was more spacious than the pod you would’ve been issued had it just been you and Ezra since the beginning. Two people sharing a pod designed for six felt much more like a livable space. More leg room, more spaces for privacy, it felt a little more like a studio apartment special wise than a glorified tent. You had even pushed a couple of the standard issue cots together and secured them tightly. You had the luxury of an extra pillow, and two of the thin mattress pads- it was like you had a full-size bed, with a beam running down the middle you did your best to cover by overlapping the mattress pads in the center. It was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you’ve ever had on these expeditions.

Ezra and you strung a line across where both of your makeshift beds were positioned in the pod, and you hung a tarp across the line to make yourselves a privacy curtain. It was like you had your own room and he had his own as well. Ezra’s side was a little cleaner than yours, yours was a little cluttered with little mementos you find and want to bring back with you. Rocks, or small geodes… occasionally you’d bring back small plants that you double checked were nontoxic and you had them set up in makeshift planters- one of the crewmates that left abandoned an extra helmet that was damaged, and now you have an obscure green and purple plant sprouting up proudly from it.

Ezra’s side was much more standard. He had a pile of his old books, all of them weathered, looking like they’d been through hell and back. He had field books, and notebooks that held his years of accumulated knowledge of how he’s survived the Green. He ended up copying your bedding arrangement, and he agreed it was the most comfortable bed he’s had in years. He said it felt like a luxury a prospector like himself didn’t deserve. He also had a small collection of rocks that lined the ledge behind his bed. Little gifts from you, all of them.

“This one reminded me of you,” you’d say, passing him a unique rock while you struggled to keep the handful of the others you collected balanced in your hands. The grin on your face when you’d collect the little things was one of his favorite sights. When the partition that separated the beds was opened, it was a comical sight. Like a bedroom of a married couple on old television shows, where they had different beds and each side was decorated to that person’s tastes. Most of the time though, the partition was closed.

It made changing easier, the bathrooms and showers in pods no matter the occupancy size always had small, cramped bathrooms. However, it created a false sense of privacy because it did absolutely nothing in terms of suppressing noises. Ezra sometimes babbled nonsense in his sleep. The man literally unable to stop talking even when he was rendered unconscious. Most of the times it was completely incomprehensible, not even sounding like real words. Sometimes you’d hear a sentence maybe, but without knowing his dreams it was still alien to you. It was comforting to you hearing him on the other side of the partition, and knowing he was right on the other side made it easier for you to sleep.

Tonight, was no different, curled up in your bed, you were drifting off to sleep while Ezra had long fallen asleep before you. The weight of today’s expedition felt like it melted right off of your body as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were close to falling asleep, just savoring the moments of comfort before letting your mind drift when you heard Ezra say your name on the other side of the makeshift wall.

“What is it, Ezra?” you whisper, grumbling that he interrupted you right before falling asleep. He doesn’t respond, and instead you hear a low snore on the other side. He must’ve fallen back asleep, you figure, closing your eyes. They shoot open a few minutes later when he repeats your name again, but this time it’s a deep moan. His voice was husky and it sent a vibration right up the back of your spine. Your eyes widened at the realization that on the other side of the curtain, Ezra was dreaming about you. You shivered when he let out another involuntary, low groan. If you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

What do you do? You mind is racing with trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Do you wake him up? You also try your hardest to ignore how every small noise on the other side of the curtain is just going right to your core, making your thighs squeeze together while you keep your own arousal at bay. It was wrong of you to listen in, but you really don’t have much of a choice. You force yourself to take a few unsteady breaths to calm yourself, but it does nothing to ease you in your shocked state. Kevva, the noises he was making were like music. You often wondered what he would sound like. His voice on its own is already so perfect. But in this context? You wanted to hear nothing else.

You don’t even know how long you lay on your bed paralyzed before the temptation becomes too much and you are sliding one hand down the length of your torso and into your sleep shorts. You delicately slide your hand under your dampened underwear and your fingers instinctively find your clit. You bite your lip, trying your best to suppress the whimpers that escape your lips as you think about the man behind the partition. Your months of pining for him you finally let yourself submit to.

It had been a while. There was no privacy on the pod at any moment. When someone was using the shower, from the other room everyone could always hear the rustling around, if they were humming. It was better to just not try at all. The risk of getting caught was always too high. This was the first time you acknowledged and succumbed to your desires this entire mission. It had been so difficult to avoid, but now, you are taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself to you. You weren’t even thinking twice, just closing your eyes and imaging the fingers inside you belonged to Ezra. You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that Ezra’s side of the room had fallen silent.

Ezra sat up on his bed, His eyes fixated completely on the tarp that was the only thing separating him from you. He felt shameful, waking up from another dream about you. He woke up hard, and he felt immensely guilty. Then he heard your soft moans you were trying so hard to hold back. Now he sat on his bed, completely captivated by the noises on the other side, while he pleaded with himself to either make a move or just try to ignore it and get a few more hours of sleep. He snapped when he heard his name fall off your lips in a small whisper.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” he hears you say on the other side of the curtain. He smiles, probably ear to ear like a goddamn dopey teenager. He stands up and pulls the curtain back, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you laid out. You had stopped, knowing your statement would cause him to pull the curtain back, but the evidence of what you were doing still lingered- your hair sprawled out messy on the pillow, your sleepshirt haphazardly pushed up exposing the smooth skin and curves to him, the slick on your fingertips and the small wet spot on the front of your shorts. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he thought he might collapse on the floor at the sight of you.

“Flower,” he whispers breathlessly in the dark. The only light coming in was from the moonlight outside from the small window on your side you had opened. He thought you looked ethereal, a sight to behold that he was not worthy of gazing upon. He’s speechless. You can’t quite make out his facial expression in the dark and you mistake his breathless tone for discomfort.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, sitting up slightly. “I just... I heard you dreaming about me; we don’t have to bring this up again. Its just loneliness getting to me…”

He tentatively kneels down in front of your bed and you move to hide your face in the pillow so you don’t have to face him. He gently cups your face in his hand, and guides you back to face him. He actually says your name, and you might die hearing it on his lips.

“If what you say is true, and this is nothing more than a lapse in judgement, fueled by the loneliness of the Green, I swear to you I shall never as I live hold this moment against you, and you and I shall commence in the morning living like it never happened. But, if there is any chance these feelings that I have harbored for you are reciprocated, please grant me this opportunity to show you how much I am completely transfixed by you.”

You are now the one rendered speechless as you try to process the new information and the proposal Ezra has offered you. You are having difficultly allowing yourself to believe any of this or anything he says is true. Part of you was wondering if this was part of a dream and you hadn’t yet realized you were asleep. You had to reach out and touch his face, feeling his stubble under your touch, any sort of evidence to know he was physically right there.

“You’re real,” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles. He takes the hand which you had rested on his face and he presses a kiss to your wrist.

“The number of times I have thought the same thing about you,” he mutters, moving your hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Flower, please…”

“This is more than a just a whim,” you admit, exhaling shakily, “Ezra… I love you.”

“Oh, how I’ve longed to hear those gracious words on your lips, flower,” he smiles, his gaze not breaking from your face.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss, unable to take being separated from him anymore. You move your lips against his and you can feel his smile as he moves to position himself on top of you, not even needing to break the kiss. Your limbs tangle with his, and you run your hands through his tousled curls, wanting to just let your hands touch every part of him that he would let you. He rests on hand on the back of your neck, while he uses the other to keep himself from putting all of his weight on you.

“You’re bewitching,” he says softly, as he pulls away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses and bites down your neck and collar bone. “Your beauty is unmatched by anything these tired eyes have ever witnessed,” he praises, as his hands move to slide nimbly under the fabric of your shirt.

He plans to take his time, to completely worship every part of your body and vocalize in every way how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. His moments are slow, and sensual, making you feel like complete putty in his hands. He wants to savor absolutely every part of this shared moment. For so long has he dreamed about this, and so far, everything about you- your noises, your soft skin, all so much better than he ever envisioned. His calloused hands savor every inch of you they graze, committing how every part of you feels to his memory.

His moustache and stubble leave goosebumps behind on every part of your skin he kisses. He leaves a trail of marks behind that with time will definitely darken into small bruises, evidence he can gaze upon tomorrow to remind him this all was not just a dream. In his head, he pleads with his maker that if this is a dream may he please never wake up and suspend him in this sleep state forever. A small price to pay to have you entangled in his arms.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over as he kisses down your body, pressing kisses to every inch he can see and touch, just like he’s wanted to for so long in these strenuous months. His movements are gently, and you moan softly at the sensation of his knuckles grazing your skin as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you know completely bare in front of him.

“I want to spend the rest of my days between these thighs,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and his hands grab them and pull them apart gently. Like a man starved, his tongue works skillfully, giving you so much attention. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. He loves the reactions he can elicit from you and he loves the taste of you. You’re as touched starved as he is and he wants nothing more than to stay between your legs for hours as you moan praises, and shudder under his touch. You back arches and you can’t help but squirm at the sensations, but he holds your legs gently, keeping you in place. The first time he brings you to orgasm is by his tongue, and you can taste yourself on his lips when he finally comes up for air.

You can’t even think of anything to say to reciprocate his words, your mind is hazy and you’re overcome with the feeling. He doesn’t seem to mind, and the look on his face almost proves how proud he is to be the one who’s the cause of your current state. He’s just so wrapped up in how your body is responding to his every move, he doesn’t care you’re completely speechless. The feeling of it all was just too much to try to attempt vocalizing coherent thoughts.

When he finally pushes himself inside you, it completely takes your breath away. He makes sure to go slow, taking his time and letting you adjust. He also needs to steady himself, because the feeling of you wrapped around him is incredible. It’s perfect, and he wants to take his time, but your so tight and feel so good, and it’s been so long since he’s experienced such an intimacy.

“You’re perfect,” you moan softly at the feeling of how he stretches you.

The compliments that fall from your lips, go right to his head, inflating his ego. His kisses become more frantic, and passionate. His hands shamelessly wander the length of your body, groping at the flesh, wanting to just worship every part of you, to just touch every part of you. His rhythm is slow at first, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer and his mind is frenzied at the sensation. His movements become much more sporadic, chasing his relief as you cry out how close you are as your face rests in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and bites on his neck, leaving your own marks on him like you were returning the favor.

“Cum inside me, Ezra,” you whisper, nibbling his ear and he groans hearing something only in his dreams manifest in the flesh. “It’s safe.”

He bites his lip and you tug gently on the ends of his hair, a moaning mess under him. The way your face contorts when you orgasm for the second time and the sensation of your release is the final sensation that triggers his own. He collapses on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck, whispering again how perfect you are before pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you.

You both are breathing heavily, glistening with sweat and feeling euphoric after coming down from the high. Your chests rise and fall as you both work to catch your breath before either of you speak. It’s a comfortable silence, both of you trying to recover. He looks over to you, and you match his gaze. You roll over onto your stomach and rest your head on his chest, taking a few moments before cleaning up. You rest your arm across his torso and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Here, in the depths of this dangerous planet, you felt safe in his arms. The excruciatingly long days of physical labor, chasing after promises of riches feel fruitless now more than ever, because the best thing you ever found in the Green had been right next to you the entire time.

General Taglist:

@sassy-kassaay​

@letsfly-andbe-free

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Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1 

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Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go. 

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin. 

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.” 

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.” 

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours. 

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?” 

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.” 

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?” 

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.” 

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words. 

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.” 

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod. 

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.” 

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.” 

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid. 

“Are you alright?” 

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt. 

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.” 

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner. 

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier. 

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.” 

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.” 

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.” 

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you. 

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you. 

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach. 

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it. 

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric. 

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?” 

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?” 

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you. 

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood. 

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo- 

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war. 

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views. 

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.” 

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.” 

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him. 

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t. 

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed. 

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult? 

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.” 

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief. 

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be? 

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood. 

**

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.” 

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.” 

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost. 

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words. 

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong. 

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?” 

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink. 

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind. 

“You really don’t have to-” 

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together. 

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.” 

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him. 

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased. 

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay. 

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-” 

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you. 

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.” 

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully. 

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back. 

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.” 

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.” 

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.” 

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.” 

______

Taglist: 

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

[julyarchives]

Complicated || (M)

→ Pairing: Hui x Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Smut; Exes to Lovers.

→ Words:  3.7K

→ Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol; Spit kink; Choking; F and M receiving Oral; Fingering; Squirting; Power Play; Jealousy.

→ A/n: It took us a little longer to finish this story, but we are so happy with the result, so we promise it is worth the wait! Thank you 🐧 anon for this amazing request! We hope you all like it 💕

"And who's that?" Hui asked Yanan.

He looked at you across the room, looking like a deer caught in headlights. When you looked in his direction, a bright smile lit up on your face and you waved excitedly.

At first, he was confused, but when you got closer and greeted Yanan with a friendly hug, it all made sense.

"Hui," Yanan called him, but his eyes had never left you. "This is Y/N. She's my best friend"

Hui was well aware that Yanan meant 'don't try any funny business because she's my friend', but he was already hypnotized by you.

"Nice to meet you, Hui." you said, the way his name rolled off your tongue had him shivering, and you didn't miss the way he looked up and down at you.

You smiled at him, and he could just tell there was a little bit of mischief hiding in your sweetness. As for the rest of the night, Hui had made it his mission to make you smile at him as much as he could.

He was just mesmerized by you and used every excuse to have Yanan bringing you along on every night out, and inevitably you became friends. You got along, and hanging out together was way more fun than he first expected, and he grew to actually enjoy your company.

Yanan was constantly on Hui's hair, warning that you were not the type of girl he used to date casually, and would not forgive you if you ruined their friendship, and that's why it took him long to make a move on you.

It was actually you who took the first step, kissing him unexpectedly one night when you two sneaked to the kitchen for snacks while your friends played in the living room. It was a point of no return for both of you, the chemistry was undeniable - Hui knew everything you liked and you knew what to do to drive him mad.

You surprised him by showing that you were not the innocent girl he thought you were, and he was not a no-attachment ladies man Yanan had told you he was. The fact that you became friends first was crucial for the relationship, and it was the reason it lasted fairly long, but it was also the reason that it ended. You both recognized that you two wanted different things and were in different places, and it was best to end things before one of you got hurt.

That, however, did not fix the endless tension between you two.

Inevitably you didn't stop seeing each other, now that you had the same friend circle, and it would always end with one of you snapping at the other.

Tonight was one of those occasions, and you had your mind set on not letting Hui ruin your night. It was a perfectly good party, full of people, all your friends gathered in one of their houses, some acquaintances along enough to make the place full, and the loud music making everyone enjoy themselves.

Hui was there, you had already spotted him, but you were good at pretending he wasn't there, even though you could feel his gaze burning holes in the back of your head, but you just danced your worries away.

Making your way through the crowd, you managed to get to the kitchen and fix yourself a cold drink to cool off.

"Fuck, it's hot in here" you mumbled to yourself, using your free hand to hold your hair.

"Right?" A stranger answered, making your head snap in his direction, and you both chuckled at your reaction "sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," you laughed. He was tall and had just the most adorkable laugh, and somehow you felt comfortable enough to start a conversation "I'm Y/N"

You reached your hand to him, which he immediately took.

"Shinwon" he leaned closer for you to hear him over the loud music

"Do you wanna dance, Shinwon?" You boldly asked

"Lead the way" he smirked

You gently grabbed his hand, guiding you two back to the packed living room. Getting there was the hardest part, only being able to enjoy his company when you reached the make-do dance floor. You could practically feel an intense stare on your figure as you moved closer to Shinwon but chose to ignore it for now. The new tall handsome man was giving as good as he got, dancing behind you sensually, following your movements. The dance was equally fun and sexy, the new company making it all too exciting for you. You could feel Shinwon's lean muscles behind you and you closed your eyes, moving with him completely. As you two turned and moved on the dance floor, you opened your eyes, feeling Shinwon's hand gripping your waist harder. Too bad you were standing directly into Hui's view, almost as if you did it on purpose. Which you did not but since life wanted that way, why not enjoy it.

The burning tension between you, the mix of annoyance and attraction always made you feel ready to burn him back, so that was enough reason for you to wink and bite your lip at him, grinding back on Shinwon's unsuspecting and welcoming body. You only could keep that up for a few minutes before Shinwon managed to turn you, leaning closer to kindly invite you to the rooms upstairs. It was what you needed to get your mind out of the fuming man sitting across from you, so you nodded with a flirty smile before holding his hand once more and leading the way.

Getting up there was fast and soon enough you were trying every door to check for any room available, giggling to no end when at least three doors were locked. The last door was in sight and you were sure it'd be empty, your hand ready to turn the knob when you heard your name being called. You huffed, watching Hui walking closer to you and Shinwon, the man looking at you confused.

"We need to talk", Hui said as he got close enough, his breathing hard and face a bit red.

"We don't, actually. You see, I'm busy".

"Cut the crap, Y/N. Get lost, man, I seriously need to talk to her".

"Oh no. Shinwon, stay. We have nothing to talk about!". Poor Shinwon was completely confused, looking from you to Hui, his hand slowly slipping away from yours.

"Um, Y/N", Shinwon turned to you, one hand carefully tucking a hair strand behind your ear. "It's okay. You know this won't be good if I stay. Yanan told me this could happen if I ever saw you…"

"What?!", you heard Hui shouting at the same moment you did, you not even sparing him a glance.

"I'll get your number from him and I'll call you, yeah?".

"I'm sorry", you didn't even know if you were mad or sad or even frustrated for being cockblocked by Hui no less.

"It's fine. Keep that room in mind, we may use sometime", Shinwon winked at you and turned to leave, nodding to Hui as he walked by. Hui didn't even look at him, his stare fixated on you.

You held his gaze for a few seconds before turning around on your heels and entering the room.

"Talk" you demanded, afraid that if you said more you would end up cursing at him.

"What the fuck was that little show downstairs?" He was already talking loudly, stepping into your personal space.

"I was just enjoying myself," you walked around him, bumping on his shoulders purposefully, hearing him sigh in anger. "Minding my own business, you know what that means?"

You grabbed the doorknob to open the door, ready to leave Hui behind to deal with his problems himself, but you had barely opened an inch when you heard his rushed stomps getting closer, and he grabbed your waist, turning you around and slamming your back against the door, getting it to close behind you.

"I highly doubt that winking at me while rubbing yourself against a stranger counts as 'minding your business', Y/N." He leaned closer to you, noses almost bumping, his hand palming the door trapped you against him. He "And I don't think that fucking someone else will make you forget me."

His eyes didn't stray from yours, and your chest was rising up and down fast - you just weren't sure if it was of annoyance or anticipation.

He smirked and leaned back, this time to whisper in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin

"He can not make you feel good like I do." He nibbled your earlobe just the slightest "you would end up thinking of me"

He planted open mouth kisses along your jaw, small gasps escaping your lips against your will. You just couldn't help but melt under his touch.

"He doesn't know you like I do." He stepped forward, hips pressing against yours. "He doesn't know what a pretty little slut you are"

Hui ended the distance between you harshly, all his lust seeping through a rough desperate kiss. His hand immediately went to your hair, tugging it until it sting, but he knew you loved it. Your body responded to him like a magnet, you just couldn't help yourself but be completely gone for him.

He nibbled your bottom lip, sucking and licking it, humming in satisfaction with the feeling of having you altogether his. He trailed down your neck where he bit on the skin, licking the spot afterward to soothe, marking you as he was claiming you to him. His name started rolling off your tongue involuntarily, moaning every time he found a new spot to mark.

"That's right, baby girl" he whispered "keep doing that"

He cupped one breast with his free hand, squeezing it while he hungrily attacked your lips again. He started rolling his body against yours and you could feel the hard-on in his pants pressing against your clothed core.

He let go of you completely, and you whined at the loss of contact, only to have him hold your hand and walk backward until he reached the bed, where he sat on the edge.

"You know what to do, baby girl." He said in a low voice, and his hooded eyes watched you dropping on your knees in between his spread legs.

You looked deep into his eyes while undoing his belt and jeans, he leaned back, both hands on the mattress to support himself while he watched you. He bucked his hips up just enough for you to put his pants and underwear down, setting his cock free from the constricted clothes.

Your mouth salivated at the sight of his erection hitting his stomach, already leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around it, using your thumb to smear his juices around, and he hissed at the contact, a breathy moan falling from his lips as you started moving your hand up and down slowly.

He reached one hand and grabbed the hair behind your head, making you look at him.

"I don't think you have the right to tease me, baby" he almost growled

"But-" you tried to speak, but he cut you short

"Ah-ah" he shushed, "I think we can find a better use for that smart mouth. Open up"

You sat back on your heels, opening your mouth like he commanded as he leaned over you, the grip on your hair still holding you in place, puckering his lips and you watched as the drool fell out of it, directly into your mouth.

Hui watched you swallow it with a proud smirk. This is something that only Hui could do to you, you thought, and it was just another way for him to claim you as his, and you could not imagine anyone else in this situation with you. It just reminded you how much you discovered about yourself in your innumerous adventures with him, and it was one of the reasons you loved that relationship.

Quickly shaking those thoughts away, you returned your focus to the current situation, as Hui ran his hand through his hair before leaning back, waiting for you to make your move.

You gulped in anticipation, taking his member in hand and waiting no time to take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and hearing Hui moaning lowly. You jerked him off, twisting your hand loosely around his dick, then hollowing your cheeks to swallow more of him. His hand twisted around your hair and guided your movements, making you bob your head just the way he wanted.

He bucked his hips and his member hit the back of your throat, making you gag, to which he responded with a loud moan, throwing his head back in pleasure. Relaxing and breathing through your nose, you let him deeper inside you as he kept bucking up to meet your movements.

When you were finally getting used to it, he pulled you away abruptly, breathing in heavily and watching you through hooded eyes.

"You were doing so good, baby girl, but I still want to fuck you senseless." He smirked. "And right now you're wearing too many clothes for that to happen. Strip for me"

Hui sat back and watched you follow his commands once again. Your eyes didn't stray from him as you unzipped your dress and let it fall off of you, proceeding by stepping out of your high heels. Once you're finished taking off your underwear, Hui stripped out of his remaining clothes as well.

"Now get on the bed" his voice was stern and his eyes followed you. "Ass up"

You got in the position without questioning, resting your head on a pillow

"Look at that, dripping just from giving me pleasure" he ran a finger through your slit, grabbing your butt strongly with the other hand, making you squirm under his touch. "Such a mess for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly mumbled.

"Good." He slapped your ass, not too strong, just enough for you to yelp in surprise. "Are you still on the pill?" He asked

"Yes" you said shily

"Did you fuck anyone else after me?" He asked, his voice just as commanding as before, and when you choked on your words, embarrassed to admit the truth, he slapped you a little harder, making you hiss.

"N-no, sir" you stuttered and the name just slipped.

Hui chuckled pleasantly at your answer, his dick twitching at hearing you call him "sir", but you two could discuss that later because all he wanted was to feel himself inside you.

"Good girl" he praised, caressing the spot where he hit you.

When both of his hands held onto your waist, you felt him entering you, his thickness welcoming in your pussy, and you realized how much you had missed the feeling of him filling you up.

He didn't give you time to adjust because you didn't need it, choosing instead to pound you mercilessly, his length hitting the perfect spot inside you, leaving you a whimpering mess already.

"That's for you to not forget who you belong to." He dig his fingers in your waist, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room "you're mine." He grunted "this pussy is mine"

You buried your face in the pillow, unable to formulate any sentence to answer him, just moaning and gasping at every thrust.

You reached one hand in between your legs, touching your clit to increase your pleasure.

"Such a needy girl, so impatient." Hui said "do you want me to make you cum? Is that what you need?"

All you could do was hum and nod in agreement. Hui sped up his pace until your walls were clenching and jolts of pleasure took over your body. You felt him leaning over you, pulling your hair and forcing you to get on all fours. You gasped when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, pressuring the right spot to constrict the blood flow. You closed your eyes and rubbed your fingers faster, taking you to the edge while he hit your g spot just perfectly.

He let go of your neck when you finished riding your orgasm, and you gasped for air, catching your breath again.

"You take me so well, baby girl" He praised "take it just a little more for me, ok? I'm so close."

He kept thrusting into you, and you clenched again to help him reach his orgasm. You felt him pulling out just in time to shoot on your back, covering you in his cum as he finished jerking himself off.

He made space for you to lay on your back, and kneeled on the mattress in between your legs, putting his hands on your knees to spread them wider. He gasped pleasantly when he noticed the glistening mess on your core.

His eyes burned with lust as he lowered his hand and inserted two fingers inside you easily, your hole completely wet for him. He didn't go slow, nor mattered the fact that you had come not 10 minutes ago, and his fingers pumped fast in and out of you, and he curled them, knowing exactly how to hit the perfect spot inside you. He watched you squirming, a moaning mess on the sheets, gripping whatever you could find to hold yourself.

Not having enough of you, Hui lowered himself, not wasting any second to get your abused clit in between his lips, and your hands immediately grabbed his hair, a cry of pleasure leaving you.

"That's so good Hui, please don't stop, please, please." Your voice came out desperate and whiny, and Hui hummed in response, sending vibrations down your core. "I'm not gonna last long."

He looked up at you and you could see him smirking in between your legs, then proceeding to thrust his fingers harder and deeper, licking and sucking your clit until your whole body was shaking and your legs were closing around involuntarily as you reached your high, calling his name in screams as he dig his fingers in your thighs to keep you in place as you just couldn't control your orgasm as he didn't stop nor slow down, and you felt another wave of pleasure run through your body, who spasm uncontrollably now, and Hui leaned back up to watch you come undone

"Touch yourself, baby" he demanded, voice hoarse and your juices coating his chin.

You immediately circled your fingers around your pussy, overestimating your sensitive clit as you climaxed again in a row, so intensely that your body couldn't control its spasms and you felt your wetness pouring and gushing out of you, as you just couldn't stop screaming his name.

"Fuck, baby" you heard his breathy voice as you squirted calling for him.

Your body went limp and you closed your eyes, your heartbeat ringing in your ears, and you felt Hui throw himself next to you.

For a few seconds, there was nothing. No sound, no movements, nothing. Hui was breathing hard next to you and you were trying to calm your own breathing but you knew that soon enough one of you wouldn't bear the silence anymore and leave without words. So it was a shock when a few minutes after the high wore off, Hui turned so he was facing you, even if you faced up, looking at the ceiling.

"Y/N", he called surprisingly soft.

"Yeah?"

"Do you truly hate me?". The question caught you by surprise, you dared say it shocked you but yet you didn't move.

"No, Hui. I don't hate you. I hate how you treat me".

"Um", was all he said.

"Do you hate me?", you asked back.

"No", he sighed. "But, like you, hate how you treat me".

"How did we end up like this?", you couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips at the absurdity of it all.

"I have no idea", Hui joined in. "All I remember was me being a dick and not wanting to settle and then you were shooting daggers at me every time you saw me".

"Oh man, I wonder why I did that". Hui laughed at that and you caught a glimpse of his pretty smile.

"Well, yeah. But it did lead us to amazing sex every time too".

"We had amazing sex when we were together as well", you spoke matter of factly.

"I know", he poked you, making you fully turn your head in his direction. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about".

"About what? Us?".

"Us together". Hui was watching you intently and you turned, mirroring his position.

"Talk then".

"I want to give us a shot. I want us to work this time". You stood in silence for a few seconds, lost.

"...why? Why now?".

"I've been thinking about it for a while now and I miss you. I miss not fighting every time we see each other, your company". He seemed serious and your heart was almost beating out of your chest by now. "And tonight was definitely my breaking point. Seeing you with goodie two shoes Shinwon made me panic out of fear of losing you forever without giving us another try".

You stood there watching him for a while. He didn't pressure you, once again showing how much he knew you. He knew you needed your time and he respected that. Truth is, your feelings for Hui never died, only fuelled the fire of your anger and attraction to him. Giving you another shot was risky but then, everything with Hui was risky and if he was willing to put all his cards on the table for you, maybe you could do the same.

"I want to leave this place", was all you said.

Hui nodded, defeat clear on his face. He got up and got dressed in silence, you doing the same but watching him intently the entire time. When both of you were presentable again, you stood with your hand on the doorknob. Hui was a step away from you, close but not too close, watching you with tired eyes. Your free hand reached out to touch his hair softly and he almost jumped in surprise.

"I hope you drove here. I came by uber", you smiled at him. "Oh, and I hope you still remember my address and my favorite breakfast place to take me tomorrow when we wake up". You laughed at his face as he nodded like a kid who just got his perfect gift. "And don't steal my covers while we sleep!".

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Three: Beneath the Oak Tree

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Strained parent relationship, death of a parent, grief, anxiety, it’s gonna get a little fluffy in this one!

W/C: 3.9k

A/N: So I'm honestly really proud of myself for this chapter, there's a little something that I wrote while I was in Ezra's mind & I still can't get over it. I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you all so much for the love & support!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist Form

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN – AFTERNOON~

At the day’s end, you begin your trek back to the house, the heels and balls of your feet aching in a bruising way with each step. The sun creeps lower and lower behind you as you walk and you can feel the warmth of its rays hugging your back. There was a time you would enjoy watching the sunset, when you would stay in town the few extra moments to revel in its beauty and its promise to you that, although darkness will soon creep in, the sun will rise again and bring with it a fresh beginning.

Now, though, your newly appointed duties force you to neglect your favorite time of day. Right after closing the shop, you headed over to the butchers shop for the cheapest pound of beef, cut up into chunks as requested by Pa, and began walking. Not looking back at the town or the sunset, but not able to look forward either. Muscle memory takes over your legs, the map in your mind leading you straight home and all other directions you may have anticipated moving towards are erased completely now.

As you walk up to the farm, you see Mr. Prospect far into the fields, digging weeds from the Earth diligently with the hoe in his hands. You gander upon him for a moment, slowing down your pace just to glance a little longer than might be considered appropriate. He’s discarded his jacket and his white shirt looks dirtier now, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps to reveal his tan arms. They’re not overly muscular, but you know they must be strong with how hard he’s working the fields.

You misstep while your head is turned to Mr. Prospect, the toe of your boot catching a fairly large rock in the dirt and it causes you to trip. You stumble, but regain your balance quickly and feel the flush of embarrassment flow through you, your head now facing forward with the front door to the house in your sights. You take another peek at Mr. Prospect, his attention still focused on the dirt, obviously not having seen you fumble and you thank whoever above that he had not been looking your way.

Once inside, the aroma of vegetable broth is swirling through the air; Pa had already begun the stew, thankfully, relieving some of the responsibility from you. You walk into the kitchenette and set the wrapped beef down onto the only free counter, then you remove your bonnet and bag, hanging it on the wooden hook and turning to place the lockbox back inside the safe.

You turn back to the kitchenette, unwrapping the paper to reveal the raw meat within and you dump it into the boiling broth with the vegetables. A simple stew; you’ve no spices besides pepper and fresh rosemary from the garden and the meat was already salted by the butcher, but it was always a favorite that Ma would make. Yet, when you try to cook it, it never comes out with the same taste anymore. As if Ma had put her own love into it and it was another part of her you just would not have anymore.

After some time, the stew is finished, the broth thickened and the vegetables and meat cooked through to tenderness, and just then, Pa walks into the house. He walks as if the weight of the Earth rests on his shoulders and he breathes deeply, trying to regain the air in his lungs he had lost from the hard work of the day. You stand in the kitchenette, waiting for him to move from the frame so you are able to greet Mr. Prospect as well, but Pa shuts the door behind him.

“He did not wish to join,” Pa says simply.

“Did he explain why?” You ask.

“He said he did not want to impose. I did not press the matter; if he chooses solitude, I will not force his hand,” Pa replies as he sits down at the table.

You keep quiet, deciding not to further discuss the subject so as to not upset Pa and you ladle a helping of stew into a bowl for him, carrying it along with the basket of rolls to the table. You set it down in front of him and after he says his silent letter to Ma, he begins eating. You serve yourself some stew as well and sit down at the table. You and Pa eat in silence, as usual, but there’s a nagging thought in your head that will not subside. As much as you try to throw it to the wind, your curiosity gets the best of you and as you stand to grab your dishes, you find the courage to confront your father.

“Pa?”

“Hm?” He grunts, packing his pipe with tobacco.

“Why did you not inform me of Mr. Prospect yesterday?” You ask quietly, hoping he will not be upset with your questioning.

“I did not see the need to. Not until I had a chance to speak with him myself.”

“I could have helped, Pa. You could have sent him to me and I could have spoken with him,” you continue as you move to stand closer to him. He sighs deeply.

“No.”

His quick response comes out cold, a spat in the face more like, and you immediately take offense. Clearly, Pa still sees you as a child and, like a child, he expects you to bend to the laws he has established in this house. Your pulse races, the grown woman within you takes over your mind and you feel the urge to fight for your position. It breaks your heart; you were used to fighting for yourself in the town, but now you find yourself fighting against your own father.

“Why? Do you not trust my judgement? I’ve put my work in for the farm like you and Ma have before me,” you reply in a firm tone.

“Because I am the owner and I will hire whomever I see fit. Enough of this.”

He nearly barks at you, like the Bakers’ dog that would frighten you as a child whenever you passed its territory, and you feel that same terror rush through you now. You try to see reason, but no acceptable excuse comes to mind. Perhaps he did not feel as though you have earned his respects as the young lady you are. Whatever he thinks of it, you feel it may be best to settle the subject. For now.

“Yes, sir,” you say softly. You turn to the kitchenette, place your soiled dishes in the basin and walk back to the range, serving a helping of food into another bowl with a spoon and setting a roll on top. “I will go offer some stew to Mr. Prospect.”

“Leave him be, daughter. If he wished to eat, he would have joined us at our table,” Pa says with a furrow in his brow.

“Perhaps he is intimidated, Pa. Afraid to sit and converse with us after the town has already been so unfriendly. If he wishes to be lonesome, I will respect it. But I will not let him go hungry simply for his preference.”

Before giving Pa another chance to argue, you step outside and shut the door behind you. You take a moment to yourself once you are far enough away from the house. A crushing feeling sits on your chest, pressure building and building and you take deep breaths in an attempt to calm your rapidly beating heart and quiet the ringing in your ears. You allow yourself to feel the cool breeze from the night flow across your face and closed eyelids as you find your center again.

You had hoped Pa would see you as an adult by now, not a helpless child. The loss of your mother only matured your soul more than it already was previously. You wonder what Ma would think, if she would agree with Pa or with you. Only more sadness courses through you, though, as you remind yourself that you will never know the answer.

Finally regaining your strength, you walk towards the barn, bowl in hand and heart drumming nervously in your chest. Why? Why so anxious? What is it about this mysterious man that has you feeling like a schoolgirl again? He was absolutely an intriguing – and rather handsome – man, far different from the men around town, as well as friendly, so why had everyone else been so disconcerted by him? You truly must have a different set of eyes, then, because you only wish to know – to learn – more.

You reach the ajar barn doors and knock on the wood softly to announce your presence. There is some shuffling from within until Mr. Prospect pulls open the door, his gaze full of pleasant surprise to see you standing in front of him.

“Sunflower,” he grins. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I figured you might be hungry after today,” you reply and hold out your hand with the bowl. He glances down at it, quickly looking back up into your eyes.

“I couldn’t, miss, I would feel as though I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff and his eyebrows twitch amusingly at your rebuttal. “It is the very least we can do since we are not able to pay you much. ’Sides, I’ve already served you; I would be more offended if you were to decline now. Otherwise it will go to waste and that will not sit right with Pa. Or with me.”

“Very well, Sunflower. I would hate to disappoint, so I will accept. Thank you very much,” he smiles and grabs the bowl from your outstretched hand, his fingertips lightly brushing your palm and a slight tingle from his skin on yours trickles through your hand. “May I ask you to join me?”

“I’d best not linger; I’m afraid I’ve managed to upset Pa tonight and I’d rather not cause him any further distress before sleep,” you explain, pushing past the temptation to say yes.

“I am sorry to hear that; I hope my being here hasn’t caused any controversy between you and your father.”

“Not at all, it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Prospect. Rest easy,” you smile.

“Thank you, dear Sunflower. Both for the ease of mind and also for this meal; I cannot wait to taste the flavors that have charmed my nose with its temptatious smell.”

You giggle softly at his statement; he speaks so differently, his own elocution, it seems. You bow your head slightly at him and take a turn to leave, but a lingering curiosity prompts you to speak.

“Mr. Prospect, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he grins while he waits.

“Why do you call me ‘Sunflower’?”

“Do you take offense to my endearment, miss? I do apologize-”

“No,” you shake your head, offering a small smile for your expression to match your acceptance of the name he has bestowed upon you. “I must admit I quite like it. I was only curious.”

“It is because you glow as one; bright as the sun, yet gentle as its petals. Though, its beauty would diminish greatly were it next to you in comparison.”

Your neck, cheeks, and ears burn; an almost overwhelming heat you have not felt since little Morris Clark snuck a kiss to your cheek as children in the school play yard. Though, there was nothing childlike about the sensation rushing through you. His words make you smile; a genuine smile you forgot your face was capable of producing.

“I… I hope you enjoy the soup. I-I will be back for the bowl and spoon in the morning,” you stutter and attempt to hide the jubilant grin on your face by biting your lip. “Goodnight, Mr. Prospect.”

“Sunflower?” He calls out as you’re mid-turn, causing you to stop at his beckon. “Please, call me Ezra.”

Your smile breaks wider across your face and Ezra grins back, nodding slightly as he watches you consider his proposal. You take a breath to calm the thumping of your heart.

“Goodnight… Ezra.”

“Goodnight.”

~APRIL TWENTY-FIRST OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Sundays were your favorite days. No, not because of church, but because it was the only day of the week where you were able to close the shop early enough and have a spare moment to yourself. While everyone was busy praising God, praying to Him to prove they were holier than the rest of the town and repenting for the sins they committed during the week (just for them to start fresh on a new batch the next morning), it was the day you found your own escape.

You intently watch the clock ticking on the wall until the work day comes to an end and you quickly rush to the door to flip the sign, guaranteeing no other customers would make it through. You head back to the counter and carefully examine the ledger and count the coin from the day to assure each sale has been accounted for. After checking it once, you go through it again to reaffirm it’s correct and close the book.

You gather the coins in your hand and place them in the velvet bag, tying the string at the opening and setting both the bag and the book into the metal lockbox. You turn the small key, place the box in your bag, and nestle the key within your breast pocket.

You hurriedly make the trek back to the farm and you see Pa rounding up the chickens for their feeding. In your haste, you notice belatedly that you had not seen Ezra in the fields, but convince yourself he may be busy elsewhere. After a brief announcement of your arrival, you walk through the wooden front door, the floorboards creaking underneath you as you walk straight to the black safe next to the fireplace. You place the metal box from your bag inside the safe, closing it once again and heading back outside.

“Pa, I’ll be back in time for supper,” you call out as you stand under the apple tree, searching for the shiniest and reddest apple from its leaves to place in your bag.

“Be careful, daughter,” he replies as he throws more feed into the dirt. Considering how strained your relationship with Pa became, thankfully, he still respected your weekly ritual without any argument.

You wave and walk away from the farm, in the opposite direction of the town and towards the hills. It’s a mere five minute hike until you make it to the small landing at the base on the other side of the hill, letting the sounds of the flowing river fill your ears with delight. It is your own personal haven; no other person has found this place and you privately claimed it as your own, even marking your initials into the large oak tree that dwelled there.

As you make your way through the pine colored grass and up to your usual sitting area, you see the outline of a man sitting under your tree. Your brows furrow in confusion and you feel momentarily disappointed upon the realization that your secret place has been found by another, but you don’t dare be outwardly perturbed; how were they to know this was your own private sanctuary to escape the gloom of what has become of your life?

You continue in a steady march, not prepared to let your resting spot become someone else’s easily. Your mother taught you manners; you knew how to share. That did not mean it had to please you, but as long as they kept to themselves, you rationalize, what’s the harm? Maybe it was another lost soul finding comfort in the calming atmosphere of this place. An unavoidable grin stretches across your face, however, when you step closer and recognize the choppy cut of hair atop the man’s head. You catch a glimpse of his profile and his discernible nose and conclude it is the traveling man that has so intensely piqued your interest.

“Good afternoon, Ezra,” you address once you’re in range of his hearing. It catches him off guard and his shoulders jolt slightly, clearly unexpectant of anyone else finding this place.

“Sunflower,” he beams when his eyes meet yours as you stand under the shade of the tree. He moves to stand to properly greet you.

“Please,” you hold a hand up to stop him. “May I join you?”

“It would be a true delight,” he responds and resettles himself on the ground.

You smile sincerely and are pleasantly surprised to find it comes naturally and with ease in his presence. You lift your dress slightly from the ground and carry your weight to your knees to rest on your bottom, bending your legs to lay beside you. You sigh contentedly as you smooth out your skirts out around you.

“What brings you here? What about the fields?” You ask.

“Your father relieved me of my duties for the remainder of the afternoon. He declared: ‘Every soul should rest on the Lord’s day’.”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “That sounds like Pa.”

You do not press the subject of his religion, knowing first-hand how irksome it is when others comment on your lack of worship and you do not wish to cause Ezra any further discomfort by intruding on his personal preferences. A moment of silence passes between you two; the river flows and splits across different shaped rocks and boulders embedded into the dirt below the surface, creating a relaxing tune, gladly welcomed by your ears.

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” You ask, turning your gaze to his. To see his peaceful face, full of heartfelt content of the surroundings, you think it may not be so bad to finally have a friend to share it with.

“Indeed; lovelier so with your company,” he smiles.

You feel a strange occurrence within you, a sudden spike in your pulse that makes your fingers and toes tingle, much like when they ache at the end of a long day. Yet, in this moment, you welcome it.

“I usually come here alone,” you say quietly as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

“My apologies; if you’d prefer, I will find a different location of rest,” he frowns slightly, afraid he has imposed on time you prefer to spend alone.

“No,” you say quickly. “Don’t fret. Besides, this is the only place the children do not come to cause chaos.”

“I see,” he chuckles breathily, a sense of relief rushing through him that he has not upset you. “Perhaps we can share, then?” He questions tenderly in a hopeful wish released to the air.

“Yes,” you nod. “I think I would enjoy that.”

He smiles, his eyes gleaming along and you cannot fight the slight, arrhythmic thumping in your chest at the sight of his glee. Another moment passes without a word spoken as your heart paces normally once again and you look over at Ezra, his fingers busy fiddling with a small book.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask. He looks at you before meeting your gaze to his lap.

“Oh...” He looks at the brown, leather bound booklet in his hands. “A journal for my thoughts and compositions alike.”

“It’s nice to write down your reflections. May I hear some? Unless they are too close to your heart, then I do not wish to pry.”

“I’ve not read these aloud to anyone since my youth, dear Sunflower, but it would bring me great joy if you were to listen,” he says softly and you turn your body to face him, providing your utmost attention.

He smiles, chest rising profoundly with each nervous breath he takes as he opens his book, turning the ivory pages with the pad of his index finger until he lands on a scripture to read, clearing his throat before he begins.

“The vast expanse of the Green went on in each direction farther than the eye could see. The emerald of the leaves above coalesce into the umber of the earth below, both hues combining in the moss bound to the wide and tall bodies of majestic trees.

“The sunlight rained through the leaves, its rays bathing the ground I walked on and bringing the small buds of flowers to life with each step I took. The morning dew kissed the delicate fronds, single droplets meeting their lovers akin and they became as one, rolling away from the home they shared briefly and freefalling in blissful adrenaline until they met their demise in the dirt.

“I immersed myself in the environment, years upon years of the knowledge of rebirth all around, and I breathed in the crisp coolness of the air and life surrounding me. I long to become the moss on the tree, the buds in the dirt, the dew on the frond. To fade away into the Green and be born again.”

He takes a deep breath as he closes the book, grazing his fingers along the cover as if he is praising it, thanking it silently for the blank canvas it provides for him to express himself. His words move you, the meaning behind his composition striking a chord within your heart and, suddenly, you feel a small bead of water rolling down your cheek. As you bring your finger to your eye to wipe away the first tear you have shed in many moons, Ezra looks over at you and catches you in the act.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?” He asks with concern laced in his voice. He would reach out to comfort you through physical touch were he not afraid to overstep and offend you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you brush off before flashing a soft smile at him. Though, he is not convinced. “It’s beautiful; you have a raw talent for composing. It sounds like a lush place, nothing like around here. What is ‘the Green’?”

“A never-ending stretch of greenery and tall trees. At times, I can faintly smell the aroma of the dirt, muddied by the rain.”

“Where is it?” You ask, a slight hope forming in your heart that you may be able to visit someday.

“Ah, it resides only in my dreams, I’m afraid. A place my subconscious has manifested for me to visit during my slumber.”

“It sounds heavenly,” you add in a whisper.

Ezra is stunned; in his youth, he has composed small poems and sonnets such as the one he just recited to you and each time he dared to share them with anyone, he always got the same response. Classmates teased him and called him a freak or queer and he never felt any desire to share his work again. Yet, with you, your gleaming eyes directed to him with such intrigue, he felt compelled to share once again. And the response this time warms his heart.

“It can be. Then again, it feels quite lonesome as well. Such a colossal stretch of land, yet I am the only one there.”

“It must be my own desire to be free of prying eyes and ears that makes it sound appealing. I did not consider how it has been for you during your travels. Forgive me, Ezra,” you say, your eyes shining with guilt and he looks deeply into them, a touch of gold streaking in his irises as the sun flashes across his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dear Sunflower. I understand your desires. If I had also grown in a town such as this, I would gladly welcome a visit to the Green.”

You nod your understanding, but a twinge of guilt hits you as you consider how poorly Ezra must have been treated when he first arrived. You do not wish to ask and ruin the peacefulness of this moment, though you vow to keep it in mind to ask at a later time. For now, you will enjoy your company with Ezra under the large oak tree, heart happily beating in your chest with someone to finally share time with.

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

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[my-misplaced-soup]

Away from prying eyes

Haru x gn! reader

Was this a request?: No

Reader is an herbivore, I will default to herbivores when writing unless it's a request or I just want to write a carnivore

My first full length fanfic on this account! Hope you guys enjoy

credits to stanlouis for the gif

You and Haru have been dating for a few months now. She suggested to keep the relationship a secret so that random people didn't try to bother you. You agreed so people didn't try to bother Haru. So due to your secret relationship ment your dates were either disguised as just friendly outings or done in secret away from prying eyes. Today was one of those secret dates. You proposed the idea of just meeting in the gardening club since no one went there unless they needed something. You decided to grab the both of you some lunch just incase Haru hadn't eaten yet, you didn't want her to be hungry for your date. The halls were fairly empty as majority of the people were in the cafeteria, that made making your way to the gardening club a lot less awkward. You were worried that if you were spotted to many times people would think that you were just sleeping with Haru. Or worse they would find out about your relationship with her.

As you entered the garden the smell of sweet flowers engulfed you. The first time you went to the garden the smell was almost overwhelming, luckily you got used to it. Haru was watering the flowers, trying to not let them dry up from the hot sun. "Oh! Hi Y/N, you came by a lot earlier than expected," she grinned, placing the watering can aside. "Sorry about that, I thought getting our food would take longer. Oh I can help you with the watering if you want," you offered. "If you want to then sure! I would love the help," she said picking up the watering can to go refill it. You followed her close behind as you already knew where the watering cans were. You picked up a medium ish watering can so you wouldn't have to make so many trips back and forth to get water.

The time passed quickly, probably because of a mix of you two working together and spending time with the one you love always makes things better. The both of you decided that resting inside the shed was the best idea. The bed was fairly comfortable, not the worst but not the best. "Here you go, I brought you food just incase you hadn't had lunch yet," you handed her a small plastic box with assorted fruits in it. "Thank you Y/N," she thanked as she began eating the fruit slices. You simply smiled as you too began to eat your lunch. She finished her lunch much quicker than you, which made sense considering shes smaller than you. She scooted closer to you, resting her head on you shoulder. You felt your face get warm. Even though she's done this before it still made you go red. Placing your food down you turned to face Haru, your face turning serious. "Haru, " you hesitated, "I love you." Haru sat there, somewhat shocked but still very flattered. "Y/N, theres no need to be so dramatic, I love you too," she gushed.

You quickly hugged her, your thoughts racing a million miles an hour. She hugged you back as quickly as you did. Both of you stayed like that for a while, not caring about how much time passed or if anyone saw. Haru lightly pushed away, signaling that lunch was over. Much to your disappointment you let her go so the both of you could go to class. "I'll see you tomorrow ok?" she said before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. Your face went red again, this time you got up and walked out the shed. You waved goodbye before leaving. Once you reached the stairs outside the gardening club you realized that Haru's scent was all over you. You lifted up your shirt to re-live that amazing experience. You would have to change your clothes and wash them before anyone else found out, but you figured that could wait a bit.

[little-mad]

A Seat at the Table Pt. 2 (Final)

~ Part 1 ~

After Gavin’s initial outburst had passed, breakfast went on smoothly and uneventfully, much to Rael’s relief. He was unprepared to address Gavin’s inquiries about why they couldn’t eat in the dining hall, because to be frank, Rael didn’t really have an answer.

Logically, Rael knew none of the soldiers would dare make a move against someone explicitly under the Emperor’s protection--and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia that clouded his mind every time he pictured other alteons around the human. Maybe they wouldn’t attack Gavin, but what if they said something cruel? Something even Gavin wouldn’t be able to shake?

Simply being in this realm was dangerous for Gavin, therefore Rael needed to take as many steps as possible to minimize the risk. Honestly, he didn’t understand why the human had any desire to dine among the alteon soldiers; it wasn’t as though his previous experience with one had left a particularly great impression. Of course, Gavin did have a knack of surprising Rael. There was much more to the tiny man than he’d initially expected.

“Patrols are much more interesting than boring guard duty,” Gavin remarked from where he sat on Rael’s shoulder.

Seeing as constantly having his hands occupied with carrying a human was more than a little impractical, the two of them had needed to determine an alternative. Rael’s first idea of using a belt pouch hadn’t gone over very well with Gavin, and so they had ended up settling on the shoulder.

At first, Rael had been tentative about placing the human so high up. A fall from such a height would no doubt be deadly for someone of Gavin’s size. Gavin had come up with the solution of tucking himself under one of the leather straps of Rael’s armor, that way he had something holding him down as well as something to grip onto.

While Rael had agreed to the set-up, he still couldn’t help but send frequent uneasy glances at the human. It was difficult not to feel the need to be constantly vigilant when he was with Gavin. The little guy was just so fragile. The slightest misstep or wrong move could prove disastrous to him.

“Are you taking the same route as the last time?” Gavin inquired, his voice so near to Rael’s ear that he didn’t even need to raise it at all.

Rael shook his head, careful not to disturb Gavin’s position. “No, this time we’re patrolling the grounds,” he explained. As beautiful as the palace interior was, it could feel a bit stuffy after a while, especially with so many nobles and other important figures milling about and scrutinizing everyone around them. Since he had Gavin now, that particular aspect of the indoors was even less appealing.

“Great, I could use the fresh air,” Gavin commented just as Rael stepped out into the early morning sunlight.

-

Same as it had been the past couple days, Rael’s job proved fairly uneventful. A dull occupation was not something Gavin was used to. It was hard to get bored when you were a thief. Even intel gathering stakeouts often came with a healthy dose of intrigue. However, he had to be grateful for the mundane nature of Rael’s patrol, because things getting exciting also meant things getting dangerous.

A couple hours into the patrol and Gavin was convinced this one would be as uneventful as the rest. He had taken to resting his tired eyes, without Rael’s knowledge of course, when suddenly he felt his trusty giant steed’s walking come to an abrupt stop.

“Hey, what the--” No sooner had Gavin’s eyes opened that his vision was filled with a pair of giant hands reaching towards him. He instantly recoiled, though sitting on a shoulder, he had nowhere to retreat to.

Long fingers wrapped themselves around Gavin’s body, and with seemingly no effort whatsoever, they broke his iron-like grip on the leather strap and lifted him free.

Immediately, Gavin’s mind went to Kaydin, the thug who had tried to abduct him in the woods. However, there was something familiar about the hands surrounding his body; their grasp was firm but gentle, as though they intended to protect rather than harm.

When everything came to a halt and the hands were no longer in motion, Gavin was finally able to make some sense of the situation. He was being held in the relaxed fist of one hand, while the other one was cupped under the bottom so that his feet touched the palm. This left only the upper half of Gavin’s chest and above sticking out the top.

Gavin’s first move was to glance behind himself to find out just who had so abruptly snagged him from his perch. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized the perpetrator was none other than Rael...shortly followed by a wave of irritation at the sudden relocation.

“Woah, you seem a little defensive, Rael.” An instant feeling of dread began to steal over Gavin. He knew that voice, he’d had nightmares about that voice.

Slowly he turned back around. As expected, there stood Ashryn: Gavin’s least favorite alteon--which was impressive considering there existed an alteon who’d tried to kidnap and sell him on the blackmarket.

“I have been tasked with protecting our human guest, so it is my job to be defensive,” Gavin heard Rael state icily. There was no hint of the polite courtesy that had been present during he and Ashryn’s last interaction--something that Gavin was definitely pleased about.

“Ah, that’s right,” Ashryn remarked, seemingly unfazed by Rael’s less than friendly disposition. “A shame you got saddled with such an unfavorable task.”

If blood physically had the ability to boil, Gavin was sure his would be bubbling like crazy at this point. He had to literally bite down on his own tongue to prevent a vulgar string of insults from flying out of his mouth. Ashryn clearly had a unique knack for triggering the latent rage that lay within Gavin, but he wouldn’t let himself fall for the same trap twice. Getting angry was exactly the kind of reaction Ashryn was looking for.

“I’m honored to have been granted this assignment actually.” Gavin’s fury was temporarily forgotten at Rael’s unexpected words. “The Emperor specifically entrusted it to me after all.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Gavin caught sight of Rael’s hardened expression as he unwaveringly met Ashryn’s gaze. The guy was notoriously difficult for Gavin to get a read on, but he could swear he saw not even a shred of fear or uncertainty in those striking teal eyes of his.

Turning back forward, Gavin could tell the smug smile on Ashryn’s face had taken on a tight quality. He had a feeling the asshole wasn’t particularly used to being stood up to.

“Oh, well I was concerned it may have been more of a punishment than anything,” Ashryn stated. The naive innocence in his tone was nauseatingly artificial.

“I’m not sure you understand just how important it is to the Emperor that our relationship with humans remain positive,” Rael countered smoothly, as though he’d practiced this very conversation in his head countless times.

Ashryn’s smile began to falter, distinct irritation now flashing in his eyes. “You seem quite sure you know the Emperor’s intentions,” he commented coldly.

“Evidently better than you do,” came Rael’s quick reply, and Gavin nearly let slip a bark of laughter. He’d proven it before, but this was just further proof that Rael was clearly quite skilled with his words. If he’d grown up on earth, Gavin had no doubt the guy would’ve been one of those insufferable smart-asses on the debate team in high school.

The smile had completely gone from Ashryn’s face now and had been replaced with a dark scowl. The sight was so satisfying to Gavin that he couldn’t help a smile of his own from tugging at his lips. However, the joy was quickly shot through with a bolt of fear as the green-eyed giant’s gaze suddenly landed on him.

Gavin was quickly reminded of his situation. Ashryn was more than just some jerk, he was a giant jerk, and that giant jerk was currently giving Gavin the absolute dirtiest look of all time.

As though he had taken notice of the hateful glare too, at that moment Rael ever-so-slightly tightened his hold on Gavin’s body. There also came a bout of steady movement as Rael brought his hands closer to his body and farther away from Ashryn.

“I’m afraid I have no more time to waste on you and your pet,” the brown-haired giant spat, finally lifting his gaze from Gavin. “Enjoy your babysitting.” With that, Ashryn turned sharply on his heel and strode off down the cobble path that led back towards the palace.

“Stupid, pointy-eared, pretensious, oversized--” Gavin nearly drew blood with how hard he was biting on his tongue to prevent his thoughts from becoming verbal. Sure it would be satisfying in the moment, but it was obvious that Rael’s well crafted rebuttals were far more effective against Ashryn than Gavin’s disorganized assortment of crude insults.

Gavin was drawn out of his mental fuming when the hands holding him lurched into motion once again. Long fingers shifted around him until Rael’s thumb was pressed gently against his chest while the index finger did the same to his back. With an easy, fluid movement, Rael managed to twist Gavin’s body around so that he was now facing towards the giant rather than away.

Maybe if the circumstances were different Gavin would be irked by the gentle manhandling, but there was no way he could be annoyed with Rael after the way he’d just handled Ashryn.

“I’m sorry you had to see him again,” Rael said as he gazed down at the human in his hands. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, and Gavin didn’t doubt for a second that the guy meant what he said.

“Don’t sweat it,” Gavin replied with a wave of his hand. “There was obviously nothing to worry about since I’ve got my knight in shining armor and all,” he added with a smirk.

Rael’s dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “My armor doesn’t shine,” he stated. “And I’d certainly not call myself a knight.”

Gavin gave a snort. The cultural divide between humans and alteons had once again made itself known. “It’s a figure of speech, dummy,” he told Rael as he flicked the giant’s hand.

“I don’t know how I’m meant to keep up with all your bizarre human sayings,” Rael grumbled as he moved Gavin back into position on his shoulder.

Gavin chuckled, and then there was a moment of silence as Rael set back off on his patrol. The quiet was comfortable. There was no air of awkwardness or a sense that one of them should be saying something. But then, after a few more moments, Rael suddenly broke the silence. “If you want to eat in the dining hall, we can,” he said simply.

Completely caught off guard, Gavin froze. He stared at the side of Rael’s face with wide eyes, but the alteon remained looking forward. “A-are you sure?” Gavin found himself stammering. He had no idea where Rael’s sudden change of heart had come from, and while Gavin was glad for it, he didn’t want to have guilted the man into the decision.

Smiling softly, Rael nodded. “Of course. I can handle any idiot foolish enough to think they can mess with you,” he responded smoothly.

Gavin broke into a grin. It seemed he would get his seat at the big kid table after all. All thanks to his trusty not-knight in not-shining armor.

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza​ @millenialcatlady​