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candycandy00 · 2 years ago

Note

If you’re accepting requests, shiggy with a shy reader? How compatible would he be with one one shy? I know some people think he needs someone who isn’t shy to challenge him but it depends on the fic I think!

Note: I received two requests for Shigaraki with a shy reader, so I'm thinking they came from the same person. If not, they're so similar that I've just combined them into one. Hope that's okay! I also turned this into a holiday fic, considering the time of year I'm writing this.

Smut. 18+.

“A Christmas present for Tomura-kun?” Toga asks, sitting across from you in the kitchen of the Mountain Villa. She thinks for a moment, then says, “What about a new hoodie? The one he’s wearing is kinda gross.”

“Get him a new game,” Spinner says, standing near the stove, one burner on, seeming to enjoy the heat. “I can give you a list of ones he might like.”

“Get him some new red shoes!” Twice offers. “He goes through those really fast!”

Mr. Compress sighs and shakes his head as if these are all bad ideas. He gently pats your shoulder and says, “If you really want to give him something special, why not give yourself?”

You blink in confusion. “Myself?”

He nods, his smile visible through the hole in the black mask he wears under the white one. “Get a giant box, put a big red bow on your head, and jump out of the box on Christmas day.”

You hear a derisive snort of laugher and turn to look at the doorway, where Dabi is standing with his arms crossed. “Everything has to be a production with you, huh?”

Mr. Compress frowns at him. “Well, what’s your idea?”

Dabi shrugs. “Just be waiting in his room naked. No props needed.”

You blush crimson and look at the floor. “I-I could never..”

“Aw, don’t tease her too much, Dabi-kun,” Toga says, though her eyes are shining with mischief as she watches you squirm and fidget, “you know how shy she is!”

“I was asked for my idea, I gave it. I still think it’s better than any of yours.”

Soon after, Shigaraki walks into the kitchen to get a snack, and the conversation is hastily hushed up. The others make excuses to leave the room, and suddenly you’re alone with him. You’re not exactly sure what to call your relationship with him. You like him, he told you he likes you, and you spend time together when you can, playing video games or just watching tv. He’s even kissed you a few times. But you’ve never gone any further than that.

You’ve always been extremely shy, to the point that you had trouble even looking at the other members of the League at first. Over time, you reached the point that you could talk to them, but you’re still uncomfortable if you’re alone with any of them besides Shigaraki, and sometimes even with him. You’re quiet by nature, but so is he, so sometimes awkward silences last way too long. He doesn’t seem bothered by them though. Meanwhile you get nervous, fidget, and try desperately to think of something to say.

With Christmas rapidly approaching, you want to give Shigaraki a gift, but you’re stumped as to what that gift should be. That’s why you asked the rest of the League. The ideas they had were fine (well, most of them), but things like hoodies and shoes and even video games are a little too impersonal for you. In all honesty, you’d really like to give a gift that’s romantic in nature.

You’ve been wanting to take your relationship with Shigaraki further, but you’re way too shy to actually say something or, heaven forbid, make a move on him. You’ve been hoping he would make a move on you, but so far he’s seemingly been content with kisses and occasionally falling asleep on the couch with your heads leaning on each other. You’ve even started wondering if he even wants anything more from you. What if he just doesn’t find you that attractive? What if he has a low sex drive? What if he has NO sex drive? Wondering about it is killing you. Maybe Mr. Compress had the right idea. Maybe you should just throw caution to the wind and make a dramatic gesture. At least then you’d know where you stand.

Yes, that’s what you’ll do. On Christmas, you’ll know for sure how Shigaraki feels, for better or worse.

You decide on a combination of the ideas given to you by Mr. Compress and Dabi. Too many props and a big production would just make things more confusing. So you order exactly one item online: A giant red silk ribbon with a tag attached. One designed to tie around your body, covering only the most important parts, and end in a big bow at your chest. The tag attached reads: “Open me! I’m yours!”

When it arrives, you lock your door and try it on. It takes a few tries to get the bow just right, but when you’re finished, you stand in front of your mirror and look at the result. It shows so much! The thought of Shigaraki seeing you like this makes you blush like crazy. But the longer you wear the ribbon, the more you notice that the silky red fabric between your legs makes you feel sexy, maybe even a little confident.

On Christmas day, you tell Shigaraki to meet you in your room so you can give him his present. You tie on the ribbon, fix the tag just right, and then pull a long coat on to cover it all up. The minutes before Shigaraki arrives are misery, as you grow more and more nervous, at one point even deciding to back out of this whole thing. But no, you have to go through with it. You have to know where your relationship is going, where it stands.

When he does walk into the room, your heart begins racing immediately. Your face is red, you just know it. But you’ve come this far, you might as well follow through. Once he’s inside and has shut the door behind him, you tell him to close his eyes. He shrugs and does as told. You take a deep breath, gather your courage, and slip the coat off, tossing it onto the floor. Just standing here in the room with him, with his eyes closed, is giving you goosebumps. You hold your head high and say, “Alright, you can open your eyes now.”

Shigaraki opens his eyes, and they immediately go wide as he takes in the sight of you, standing there nearly naked, He’s speechless, not saying a word as his red eyes travel up and down your body. He doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t step toward you, doesn’t reach out to open his “present”. He just stares. The seconds tick by as you stand there, heart pounding, waiting for him to react.

But nothing happens.

When you can’t take the shame anymore, you turn around, grab a blanket from your bed, and wrap yourself up in it, coving your stupid attempt to be romantic. Then, at a loss for what to do or where to go, you run into your closet and shut the door.

How could you be so stupid? How could you humiliate yourself like that? Of course he didn’t want such a disgusting gift! Tears fill your eyes and stream down your face as you huddle in the closet, praying he’ll just leave so you can cry in peace.

Instead, the closet door opens. Shigaraki is standing there, looking extremely confused. “What are you doing?” he asks.

When you try to speak, your voice breaks. “Please j-just leave me alone!”

“I don’t get it. I thought you were giving yourself to me as a gift for Christmas. Now you’re telling me to leave?”

You turn away from him. “It’s obvious you didn’t like the idea! You didn’t try to open me at all! You must think I’m hideous!”

There’s genuine confusion in Shigaraki’s voice when he says, “What are you talking about? I was surprised, and I just wanted to enjoy the view for a minute.”

You slowly raise up and step out of the closet. “So… you don’t think I’m hideous?”

He grins. “I better take another look, just to be sure.”

You let him reach up and slide the blanket off your shoulders, where it pools on the floor around your feet. He stares at you again, but this time you can see a faint blush on his face. You see him read the tag, and then touch the end of the ribbon, holding it with his thumb and one finger. His eyes shift to your face, which has gone red again. You’re so nervous you can barely breathe. He gives the ribbon a light tug, and the entire thing comes loose, falling off your body and leaving your completely bare.

He stares again, his eyes seeming to linger on your breasts, and you fight the urge to run back into the closet. No one besides your doctor has seen you naked since you were being bathed by your mother. But Shigaraki reaches out and runs two fingers along your neck, down your shoulder, over your collar bone, between your breasts. You can hear his breaths coming shorter and quicker as his thumb brushes over one hard nipple, making you hiss in surprise.

“If you’re my present, does that mean I can do anything I want to you?” he asks, a small grin on his face.

You nod as he begins exploring with the fingers on his other hand. “Yes,” you breathe out.

He leads you over to your bed and gently pushes you onto it, then pulls off his hoodie and the shirt beneath it, exposing his toned abdomen and chest. You can’t help staring at him, and you understand now how he must have felt when you first took off the coat. It’s mesmerizing, seeing someone you love naked for the first time.

Shigaraki unbuttons his pants as he climbs onto the bed. He reaches down between your legs and uses two fingers to explore inside you, then gently strokes your clit. You gasp and open your legs even further as he smears your own wetness all over your entrance.

He uses one hand to pull his already hard cock out of his open pants and says, “I can’t wait anymore,” in a desperate voice. You look in him the eyes, watching his cloud with desire, and you nod your head. The next moment, you feel him slowly but firmly pressing himself into you. It hurts, like you expected, but Shigaraki is surprisingly gentle, taking it slow, gradually stretching you open around him until he’s all the way in. For a moment, he doesn’t move, then he slowly pulls back out before shoving back in again.

The thrusts are slow at first, but he picks up speed until he hits a nice rhythm. Beneath him, you’re writhing on the bed, feeling his skin against yours, smelling his cologne, listening to the way his breaths hitch in his throat. You want more of this. You want more of him. You lift your head up and kiss his lips, tasting him as he moves in and out of you, one of his hands carefully groping your breast.

With all your senses on fire with lust, a burst of pleasure runs over you, and you reflexively clench yourself around him as you climax. Shigaraki groans and then cums inside you, his free hand suddenly gripping your hip with thumb and three fingers as his hair falls over his face. Afterwards, he breathes heavily for a few moments and then leans over onto his side and pulls you close.

“Sorry, I didn’t have a condom and I forgot to pull out,” he says, his voice sounding tired.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I said you could do anything you want to me. I’m your present, after all.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he closes his eyes. “Merry Christmas,” he says drowsily, leaning his head over onto your pillow, his face just inches from yours.

You plant a small kiss on his cheek and say, “Merry Christmas, Tomura.”

#Shigaraki x Reader #Shigaraki x You #Shigaraki Tomura #Shigaraki #Shigaraki Smut #Shigaraki Fanfiction #BNHA Fanfiction

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theflashdriver · 2 years ago

Text

Treasury (A Silvaze Fanfic)

Blaze had never thought the marble floor of the palace could cause her so much anxiety. After sneaking past maids pushing trollies, misdirecting butlers with platters and stumping guards armed with spears, reaching the foot of the castle's deepest set of stairs had brought her to a complete stop. Of course the corridors where she had encountered everyone else had been plushly carpeted. Now a flat labyrinth of hard gleaming white stone, polished within an inch of its life, lay before her.

She'd almost drowned in an endless squall of meetings before this, having been tempest tossed from one curious party to another and endured an endless spray of pointless conversation. Everything that had transpired was framed as being for her enjoyment and benefit; even if, in reality, it was for the sake of public spectacle. More meetings would surely come later; she had to claim this scant moment before it was snatched away from her.

The guardian heaved a sigh, shifting back to sit at the bottom of the staircase. She shed her heels but knew better than to leave them behind, instead hooking a pair of her fingers into them. Her first step onto the cold floor sent a shiver down her spine but no sound accompanied the sensation. The cat's frozen heart began to beat once more as she resumed her fleet-footed stride, senses honed to their limits. If she was found down here her purpose would surely be questioned. If the wrong person found her, they'd know exactly what the cat had been scheming.

There was no reason for anyone else to be down here but Blaze wasn't going to take any chances. Well, no reason for anyone except for the sole person she was intent on meeting with.

A set of engagement rings, accidentally and coincidentally exchanged mere moments apart, were the catalyst for Blaze's current busyness. While there was nary a day that the cat wasn't swept off her feet, be it travelling from island to island to hear the whims of her people or fighting to defend her home, the past weeks had come with a new type of burden. A more... personal burden.

The pyrokinetic lingered before a turn in the corridor, ears spiked high as she listened for signs of life. She did feel rather foolish; she hadn't snuck around like this since she was a child, attempting to evade Gardon and the other palace staff. Back then she'd overthought all they were thinking; she'd hidden and listened, imagining awful things they might say about her. Now but one topic seemed to hang on their lips, day in and day out. A royal wedding was on the horizon. Her wedding.

Comfortable now that no one was down the hallway, the soon to be queen took the turn and indeed found herself alone. She strode partway down the hall before quickly turning back, no one was following her. She hadn't heard footsteps but she had to be certain. They weren't going to be interrupted, not this time.

Blaze stalked further down the hall, tension still hanging in the air taught enough to strangle her with each step. She felt foolish, sneaking shoeless through the depths of her own castle, but there truly was no other way. Slipping from her kingdom to another point in spacetime was fun for the occasional date, but their recent announcement had put them under even heavier scrutiny. After all, if the royal couple were seen slipping away or went missing the scandal would spread across the islands faster than any ship could carry it. No, they had to remain here, their presence had to be accounted for.

At the same time however, being sighted together now led to torrid tales both hanging on the lips of her people and spread through uncouth tabloids. They couldn't leave the palace grounds without staring into a camera lens; some journalists had been so bold as to sneak into the royal gardens. No, their only option was to retreat indoors and ideally outwith the gaze of windows... but that came with its own set of issues.

As long as Blaze was present within the palace, she was needed. Lately, every waking moment not spent managing some issue within her kingdom was instead allocated to the endless globe of fuss that came with planning the royal wedding. An endless parade of wedding dresses, seating arrangements, musicians, florists and so much more were visiting and vying for every spare second of her time. The only moments she'd managed to steal a glance, let alone a touch, from Silver had been in the presence of such overdramatic wedding planners. Not to mention; the increased boldness of journalists and potential for gossip had left her bedchamber off limits to him and his to her.

Today though, Blaze had finally dared to harness her royal sway. She'd had to be subtle, act in a manner that wouldn't in itself spike hearsay or concern, and yet would allow them the sweet privacy they'd sought for almost a month now. It had been so simple, a request of works suggested in order to train the soon to be prince consort. One of her scheduled tasks was set to lead him down here, into the castle depths.

Blaze hesitated before a set of great stone double doors, wreathed in thick black metal which was all part of a single grand locking mechanism. Six distinct keyholes were scattered across the jagged and yet floral lattice of metalwork, intended to confuse any would-be bandit that somehow crept this deep into the castle. A trio of overlong keys were drawn from her pocket; she crouched to insert one near the bottom right door hinge while a second fit a latch near the bottom of the left door. The third was even more tricky than those two- Blaze slid back a brick three paces right of the doorway to reveal the third working keyhole. One by one they were turned, and then each key was removed in sequence.

Like vines pulled apart, the metalwork bent all on its own, unravelling to reveal the split between the two doors. The moment the lock came to a standstill Blaze placed both hands against the stone and began to gently push. Once there was scarcely enough space, the feline angled her body to slip through rather than risk the whining of metal or scraping of stone across the floor. The instant she was inside, she turned to put her shoulders and palms against the half open entryway and reseal it. Her toes curled as the fresh cacophony of metal reknitting itself sounded to her backside, again her ears spiked high.

No footsteps sounded against the marble floor. Once again silence had claimed all. Well, almost all. One rodent was stirring in the chamber before her, it was just a matter of finding him...

Before Blaze lay the royal treasury in all its shining gaudiness. While the Sol Emeralds were kept sealed away in the Crystal Caves, the traditional wealth of the monarchy lay beneath the palace itself. Garish suits of armour set upon posed mannequins, golden hilted falchions with shining silver blades, great bronze busts of her ancestors, paintings of the islands they ruled over, and thrones so numerous one would think them common folding chairs. That wasn't to mention the less assuming chests stuffed to burst with jewellery, unworn for at least a century, and ornate wooden closets filled with equally untouched clothing.

The cat set her shoes down to the left of the door and loosed her long coat to land atop them. She'd dared to break formality beneath that jacket, instead wearing one of the less formal pieces Amy had bought for her as an engagement gift; a metallic silver top with the word Queen emblazoned on the front of it in a graffiti style font. It certainly wasn't the type of clothing she'd select for herself, her stomach had turned upon first sighting it, but she wanted to break away from the endlessly ceremonial front she'd had to put on for weeks at this point. It was garish and juvenile, but it'd helped to prepare her for this moment.

She stretched as she strode deeper into the room, trying to loosen up. It didn't take long for her to see the first signs of him; not his body but the glow of cyan above. Passing beyond a wardrobe, Blaze caught sight of cutlery cascading through the air in a slow arch. Whenever a piece of silverware reached the apex of the curve one of three different cloths, themself floating under psychic control, would polish it until it shone before floating down.

Recognising where Silver actually proved to be more difficult. He wasn't simply standing beneath his work. It took the cat identifying an errant quill and foot, poking out from opposite ends of a high backed throne, to locate him. It was a wonder that he hadn't heard her enter; he truly did dedicate himself to whatever task he was set, no matter how mundane. Then again, he was plainly lounging atop a historic artefact of the royal line... if anyone else had found him then he'd have received an earful. Perhaps he still would...

The soon to be queen silently closed the gap to her almost prince, observing his work from behind the chair. By the looks of it he'd been working down here for a while; all manner of metal objects, ranging from weapons to coinage to statuettes, were sitting in a shining pile to the right of him. He'd certainly done enough to earn a moment of respite. Not that she was going to give it to him.

She stepped out from behind the throne, knocking his boot from the throne's armrest with her thigh as she swivelled around to stand in front of him.

"Blaze!" She immediately caught the excitement in his eyes, it was more than enough to distract her from the clattering of disused valuables behind her, "S-Sorry, I-

She swept in without hesitation, capturing his lips in her own. The taste of apple was both obvious and familiar to her- almost as familiar as the sensation of him overeagerly attempting to return her efforts only to find himself quickly cowed. He was soft and rugged in equal measure; capable of pushing back but quicker to melt beneath her touch. She had him wound around her finger tight enough to charm him into acting but, for now at least, she wanted control.

The cat reached for his chest, only to find that her hand didn't fall upon fluff as she'd expected. Fabric was in the way; she'd been too swept up by the sight of his face to even consider what he was wearing. Frustration irked her brow, what garb dared put itself in her way?

The feline kept her hand on his chest, pinning him in place as she pulled back from the kiss. For a moment she was again captured by his gaze, the longing in his eyes was almost strong enough to pull her back in. To take something she knew was so strong and reduce it to being cute; there was a thrill that came with that ability, an excitement Blaze was certain would never grow dull.

Despite that truth, when the cat's gaze fell to the obscuring fabric on Silver's chest, her frown only grew harsher.

"Silver," Her brow arched.

"Y-Yes?" He gasped.

"Silver," She repeated.

"Yes, Blaze?" She'd missed his voice so much.

"Where did you get such a ridiculous shirt?" Blaze dared to ask.

Barely reaching down to the hedgehog's midriff was a simple black t-shirt with just as plain white lettering. Two simple words were bluntly stated on the fabric, positioned almost perfectly to obscure his chest fur and only his chest fur. Trophy Husband.

"You don't like it?" He seemed genuinely surprised, "Amy got it for me, it was an engagement gift."

"Of course she did," The cat rolled her eyes; the pink hedgehog would surely have loved to see them both in these ludicrous tops.

Now Blaze would make sure that she never would.

Sharp predator eyes swept over the hedgehog more thoroughly now, sizing him up lest any other surprises could get in her way. Her gaze lingered on his left hand, specifically the fourth finger on that hand. She had placed a ring there some time ago now- a golden band encircled with red gemstones. Blaze had never much enjoyed her own royal title, but that of prince consort had an undeniably humorous undercurrent. It suggested he was hers to do with as she pleased, just like all of the other trinkets in this room. That thought fuelled the cat's cunning.

Blaze snatched his left hand up in hers and entwined their fingers, forcing it up above his head and against the plush of the chair's backrest. The cat forced herself in closer, feeling the knee of her leggings rub against the seat as she pushed in to leave no separation between them. She stared into his eyes, awaiting his next move. When he tried to close the distance between them she kept her weight on his chest.

"W-What are you doing?" He asked, as if he didn't know.

"The queen should be free to arrange the treasury however she desires..." Her hand slipped beneath the foolish top as she leaned closer still, nuzzling into his shoulder, "The silverware comes under that purview..." She felt him shudder as her lips grazed the side of his neck, "Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes," He whelped.

"Good," She praised him with the faintest of kisses, "Now, just what should I do with this trophy of a husband?"

The pyrokinetic felt the time traveller's body stiffen. At first she hesitated, wanting to leave him hanging in anticipation before her next strike, but then a snort breached the air. He was trying to fight it, trying to smother his nature, but there was no hiding it. The hedgehog was laughing.

Unable to contain her smirk, Blaze shifted to his ear and spoke in as serious a tone as she could muster, "Do you find something amusing?" He was wriggling beneath her, "N-No, I-

"I don't believe I gave this trophy permission to laugh," She recounted. "You just," She pushed down on his chest, ensuring he could not see her grin,"You sounded so serious," Silver panted, "And your fur, it's tickling-

"I may choose to tickle you if I so desire," She insisted into his ear, tail twisting against her back, "That does not mean I grant you permission to laugh..." He'd just about fully regained control of himself, she couldn't allow that, "I suppose I'll have to shut you up directly."

Her lips reclaimed his, pushing his head deeper into the chair. With each passing second her grasp on him sunk deeper. She didn't have to hold his hand for it to stay pinned above his head; soon her touch swept down to claim his quills and shift his head to deepen the kiss. Feeling him push and ply for more only served to encourage the cat to further smother him; feeling him struggle to assert what little control he had only to fall short beneath her time and time again. He was still so delicate, so gentle with her even when she opted to act so domineering.

It was only when breath became a barrier that the cat broke their lips' embrace and again buried her head against his neck. It'd been so long since she'd lingered by him long enough to catch his smell; that of outdoors from his time spent wandering and the fruit he partook in much too often. To hear and feel his heartbeat thudding as he gasped for breath; to know he was not only alive but here with her. Set to spend his life by her side...

"Not to say I'm not enjoying this but, um," His hands finally dared to move, settling on her back, "S-Should we maybe talk about how things are going to change in the next couple of months? I still don't really know what being a prince actually means," He was struggling to meet her eye, "Well, I know what it literally means but-

"I suppose I'll allow you to ask a few questions," The cat pushed her lips to his again, savouring one more kiss, "But you'd better not waste my precious time. You're not royalty yet after all."

She shifted to no longer lean over him, instead sitting within the to-be prince's lap with her legs kicked over the armrest. She had left him a bit of a mess, quills flopped to the left side and his crop top pushed up to the point of unreadability, but it was as she had decreed. This trophy was hers to do with as she pleased.

"Do you think I'll make a good prince?" Those words stole the humour from Blaze's mind, her gaze hardened, "Genuinely, don't lie to make me feel comfortable. I need to know."

She looked deep into his eyes, plainly catching his hesitation.

"You've been thinking about this often," She mused rather than answer, "For how long?"

"It's been on my mind for a couple of weeks now," He confessed, "You've been busy, I didn't want to bother you. We've had so little time alone together recently that I-

Her palm found his lips, fingers coiled around to cover his face. The cat did hesitate, her gaze faltered. It took her settling upon the right words to steel herself and meet his eyes once more.

"First of all, I think you will do wonderfully Silver," She stressed, "But I'm sorry that we didn't have this conversation sooner. We surely should have, perhaps even before becoming engaged..."

He took her hand in hers, their rings brushed.

"I've realised I don't really know what I'm meant to do once I'm a prince," His honesty was heart wrenching, "I can fight to defend the islands, but there's more to ruling than that," He was expressing feelings she too had experienced all too often, "I've only really helped people by fighting for them. I'm not much of a... diplomat."

"Well, you've got a better temperament for diplomacy than me, even if you lack the scrutiny that's typically required," She honestly responded before pushing herself, "I don't think anyone can truly suit this position, there are no ideal monarchs. I've certainly never felt comfortable with my role."

"I guess, at least we'll be uncomfortable together?" He grimaced, "But you do a great job, you've had a lifetime of learning in the role, I've just..." Silver rummaged his mind for the right words, "Fought. I've been fighting for my entire life."

"It's not going to be an easy change, you're wise enough to recognise that much. But I'll be by your side through it all, like I always have been," She insisted, "If you make a misstep I'll be there to catch you, just as you've always been there to catch me in a more literal sense. I promise," Her shoulder met with his, "We agreed never to part again, that's what engagement symbolises. Never alone again, set to carry all of our burdens together."

"But what will those burdens be? How should I prepare for them?" He asked, panic still plain in his tongue, "I don't want to slow you down, there's already more than enough pressure on-

"Silver," She cut him off, brow hardened, "Your presence could never make things more difficult for me, regardless of what you think. Just having you by my side whittles away life's toils," A sigh slipped past her lips, "As for what specifically you will do, our roles have a rather broad remit..."

"Just give me some sort of target. If I have something to focus on, something to obsess over, you know I'll get it done," Blaze went quiet once more, searching for words, but he filled the void, "You know, when you set those trials for me today, I thought that might be what was set for my future. Doing simple jobs around the palace rather than helping you directly," He confessed, "It'd probably take the rest of your rule for me to properly clean all this..."

"Well, ignoring your shirt, at the very least, you do look like you belong in here," The cat professed, her brows softening again, "But, you don't look bad on a throne either." "Will I be staying here for the remainder of your rule then?" He questioned, less than seriously, "Endlessly polishing spoons so that you can surprise me at any given moment?" "Perhaps," The cat hummed, again burying her head against his neck, "Although, it seems a waste not to put such a wonderful trinket on full display..." Her fingers brushed against his ring, "As long as everyone knows who you belong to, I suppose I can allow others to stare. A mix of public and private display seems best for this trophy."

Again her lips arrived on his neck, but this time she allowed a hint of fang to slip through. With each kiss she snuck further along his jawline, taking her sweet time on the path to his lips. She lingered before that final stopping place, waiting until his patience wore out and his eyes reopened.

"So disobedient," She purred, "So naive."

Lips collided with a rumbling fervour, making up for more than their share of lost time. It was admittedly difficult to come up with an answer that would soothe him while her heart was pounding at triple speed and her mind was endlessly sparking in pursuit of pleasure. Fingers again started to hitch against fabric, Blaze heard her own purrs fill the air.

She was finally about to consider switching places, offering her trophy a chance to prove its worth and claim a position for himself, when her ears shot up straight. Her back arched as she pulled her lips from his; she completely froze and her rumbling ceased. When Silver went to speak her hand found his mouth once more; a quiet cacophony of clicks was sounding from the far side of the room. The great sealed door was reopening...

Someone else was about to enter the treasury!

Blaze shot to her feet, her eyes fell upon the dazed hedgehog slouched in the throne. Her gaze flashed across their surroundings; the floor was still littered with silverware the hedgehog had dropped, but the other ornamental pieces would provide them cover at least for a moment. He could be seen here, he was scheduled to do this work, but what would the intruder think of her? Who could possibly be walking in on them now? How long had she spent down here, basking in his company?

The psychic seemed to have realised what was panicking her; he rose to his feet just as she had, "Do you want to hide?"

The cat answered his whisper, "I think that would be wise, I'm not meant to be here..."

He snatched up her hand but didn't pull her far, casting his eyes across a trio of old wooden closets. With a wave of his hand all three swung open, revealing a variety of anachronistic dresses in varying states of decay. With a second gesture clothes from one of the cabinets emerged to arrange themselves across the other two, leaving a fully empty space.

"I'll put it all back later, get in there," He instructed, taking control after being beneath her this whole time, "I'll get rid of whoever it is, they've almost certainly come looking for you rather than me."

Blaze stepped into the wood cabinet, but hesitated on the threshold. She turned back to the hedgehog, reached to his chest, and in one swift movement pulled the crop top over the hedgehog's head. She muted the look of surprise in his eyes by reaching out with her free hand and sorting his quills.

"I can't do anything about your blushing, but I can at least make you look a little more proper," She quickly fussed before pulling back, beginning to close the door, "Do what you can to get them to leave, go with them to look for me if you have to. I'll sneak out a few minutes after thing have cleared."

As the closet door shut Blaze heard the sound of psychic whirring; the hedgehog was plainly setting more of a scene and tidying up in advance of the intruder's arrival. Beneath that din Blaze couldn't hear the newcomer's footsteps but, eventually, Silver's noise quieted. With no way to see in this tiny space, the cat could only press her ear to the doorway.

"...but have you seen her majesty?" A clear voice sounded, one of the butlers, "I believe she's resting between meetings at the moment but another florist has appeared, interested in offering their services for your upcoming wedding." "Oh, um," His acting was already off to a poor start "No, I've just been down here, doing the work she assigned me."

"Ah yes; some simple duties to get you more accustomed to royal life," The posh sounding servant exclaimed, "I must say, I spent a few hours in this room myself tending to the heirlooms. I do have some recommendations if you'd lend your ear? There are..."

This could go on for a while; thankfully the worker's own longing to explain the mundane was keeping Silver from over-speaking. He was surely being bored to death but he could handle that. If things went on like this then the visitor would catch themself sooner or later, notice they were wasting time here rather than seeking her, and resume the search elsewhere. They'd leave soon enough of their own accord.

Realisation struck the cat, bringing with it a wave of panic. For all of her sneaking, despite the luck she'd scored ducking into the wardrobe, she'd made a blatant misstep. Her jacket, not to mention her shoes beneath them, were piled by the door. The butler seemed not to have noticed the garments upon entering, but when he returned to the door he'd surely see them!

"When it comes to the older golden works a delicate hand is absolutely necessary. I've found the certain cleaning products tend to take the shine off of..." The koala was still prattling on, she had an opportunity!

But she was trapped, they were surely just beyond the closet doorway and she had no idea what direction the butler was looking. She could emerge only to immediately step into their eyeline or be totally free to creep around and to the pile... perhaps even out of the treasury itself. But that wasn't a solution, just a poor option, there had to be another way.

The cat turned, feeling along the wall at the back of the dresser. Not only was it a valued heirloom of generations long passed, it was too well made to quietly break off or through. Singing a hole certainly wasn't an option either, both the smell and the historic value lost would be too great. Admittedly, if she didn't care for it she wasn't sure why anyone else in the kingdom would, but that wasn't the point!

"Actually, I do have a few questions," Silver's voice stirred the cat from her panic, she turned back to the entryway, "Would you mind joining me over by the armour?"

What was he doing? It wasn't as if he knew she'd abandoned her clothes and was searching for an out... granted, he probably presumed she'd had shoes on before coming here? Did he genuinely want tips on polishing armour? Surely not.

Blaze waited until the footsteps had moved beyond earshot and words were no longer clearly audible. She gently pushed the left door ajar, just wide enough to gaze out and confirm they weren't standing immediately in front of the door. It was possible that the box's entryway was still within view, but she was willing to trade potentially being caught for animmanent certainty.

The door was quietly shut behind her; the princess' ears once again spiked high but now her body was hunched to crouch low, hoping to harness the relics littering the space as a thorough form of cover. She weaved deeper into obscurity as she made for the doorway, avoiding the most direct routes for fear of falling into obvious view. She spun over chests, beneath hanging tapestries and around a standing army of overdressed mannequins.

By the time she'd snuck her way back to the treasury's entrance she was panicking that the intruder would be on their way back too. Her clothes were bundled beneath her arm, she threw her eyes around the room but thankfully found no stares returned. For a moment she debated fully fleeing but quickly decided the locking mechanism's clicks would draw too much attention. No, she had to return to hiding... but there was little need to return to where she'd been before.

Blaze put her back to the left wall but kept low, edging her way around with baited breath. She slipped closer upon becoming aligned with a set of eight hanging tapestries, decorated with golden and red patterning; depicting all manner of historic regal insignia ranging from great golden wings to glowing flames and feline faces of times long past. With her body behind the fabric wall she felt more than comfortable. At the sound of passing footsteps she could so easily round to-

The sound of voices snatched the pyrokinetic's attention. She didn't dare step through the cover she'd secured, now entirely blind to their positioning on the other side, but she couldn't help listening. Though it at first sounded about how she'd expected, with Silver being talked through the steps of dismantling and repairing aged armour, she couldn't help but notice how quiet the hedgehog was being. For what felt like minutes the attendant babbled away, had the hedgehog really been curious about doing this job better?

"Hey, um," Silver finally piped up, "You should tell that florist to make an appointment and come back later," The words seem to almost burst from his throat, he immediately began to ramble, "Blaze has been swept off of her feet lately; she normally is with royal duties, now she has our wedding planning on top of that. If now is meant to be a break for her then she absolutely needs it. I know she has been doing this her whole life, but if she works too hard now she'll struggle later," Silence filled the air for a moment, Blaze thought she heard the fellow begin to speak but Silver cut him off, "I know I'm not the prince yet, so I can't take burdens from her directly, but it's always been my job to look out for her. If this can wait then she should be allowed to rest."

The guardian was stunned, realisations flashed through her mind. He'd been trying to get her out of earshot, trying to make sure he could make this insistence without her emerging and insisting otherwise. Concern for her, their lack of rendezvous and the extremes she'd gone to in order to meet him today, had plainly pushed him into acting. How long had this all been weighing on his mind? Had he done this before? Had he tried to?

"I suppose you would be in the best position to know her needs," The servant admitted, "But are you certain she could not spare-

"I'm certain," Silver cut the butler off, "I don't know where she is, but I'm sure she's hiding in the hopes of getting just a few minutes rest. Just getting into that position will have already stolen time from her break this afternoon."

"That is assuming she is hiding in the first place," The intruder pushed back.

"You'd never get her to admit it if she was. She'd happily take to the work the moment she heard there was a visitor," Silver retaliated, "But I'm telling you, she needs to rest just like any other person. She's strong and smart and..." The hedgehog seemed to catch himself, she could imagine his hands flailing, "She's a lot of wonderful things, but she's a person just like the rest of us. Everyone needs rest."

The conversation grew quieter and scanter, Blaze was tempted to step closer only to then hear the sound of footsteps passing. Clicking soon followed that movement, the sounds of the great door's mechanism shifting, followed by the great shifting of stone and then its resealing. Were they alone again, or had Silver been the one to leave? What had happened in their quieter conversation?

She dared to peek beyond the over-expensive curtains only to sight a cyan hue and hint of white quill moving away from her. A smirk crossed her lips as she stepped out from behind cover, leaving her clothes behind again but keeping a stolenpiece with her. For the third time today her senses heightened, the cat found herself walking on her tiptoes as she again rounded by the heirlooms and relics of her kingdom. Her eyes locked upon a set of wild white quills arriving before a familiar piece of furnishing.

"The coast is clear," She heard him call out, opening a closet, "Did she slip away when I was-

For the second time today, the cat snuck up on her companion. Her right hand found his waist as she moved to stand beside him. As expected, he was staring into a thoroughly empty closet. Well, she was too.

"Perusing the royal treasury?" She let her head tilt to reach his shoulder, "I wonder what you're looking for..."

"Something important," It'd taken him too long to come up with that, but now his arm was around her waist too.

"Wouldn't happen to be this, would it?" She held up the shirt Amy had given him, the word trophy husband was plainly within her grasp.

"Not quite," He picked up the shirt regardless, slinging it over his shoulder, "This however..."

His right hand found her left, his fingers slipped to fill the gaps between hers. She rolled her eyes at his corny display, but squeezed his hand in return. His lips topped her forehead as her tail joined her arm in curling around him.

"I will admit, that was all quite professionally handled," Blaze almost complimented, "You were quite close to princely, almost there."

"What?" He blinked as he started to blush again, "Oh, I take it you heard all that then..."

"Only the good parts," Blaze insisted, rising to her tiptoes to rival his height, "Though I'd have liked to hear some more compliments."

"Those I can provide," Now they were forehead to forehead, lips so dangerously close, "But, I'm sorry I tried to hide what I was doing from you."

"You did," She pushed her nose to his, allowing lips to shift closer still, "Why?"

"Why? Well, um," She closed her eyes as he started to panic, "I got the feeling if you heard me trying to stop you working, you'd just insist on working harder?" She could feel him fidgeting, "You've done that before."

"That doesn't sound like a compliment to me..." He squirmed even more at those words.

"Y-You're right about that, but I feel like I need to explain," He took a step back and her eyes opened, meeting with a serious yellow stare, "I did it because I don't really know what my job here is going to be like, or what a prince consort really is, but I know what I want to do. It's what I've always done," She felt his grasp on her tighten further, "I make sure you're okay. That comes first, always."

"Silver," He was only getting more sentimental with age, he truly was growing into his role, "Well, I suppose that's not too far from the title's literal meaning."

"This is what I'll do, from now on and forever," She could feel herself growing more flushed, he always had been too blunt, "Even if that means tricking others; I'll dedicate myself to keeping you as comfortable as possible. That should be my job, nothing else."

"You're so naive," Despite feeling like she was burning up, a wiry smile lingered on her lips, "But I like the sound of that," She could permit his foolishness, at least for a little while longer, "Why don't you show me?"

She slithered from his grasp but kept hold of his hand, set to lead him back to the throne they'd shared. The soon to be queen would be claiming the seat this time. After all, he'd said it himself, it was important that she rest during her rare breaks.

#silvaze #Blaze the Cat #Silver the Hedgehog #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #silverxblaze

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Note

Halloween 26 for rowaelin!

A Haunting Halloween

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

“If I die because of your dumb idea, I will haunt you so hard!”

Halloween Dialogue Prompts

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Haunted House

1718 words

*******

“Oh, shit!” Aelin hissed as her foot caught on a tree root, jerking forward as the momentum of her body tried pulling her to the ground. But she didn’t fall, not as a pair of strong hands held her shoulders in a firm, steady grip.

When she got her feet back under her, Aelin let her boyfriend guide her along the path. Every few seconds, one of his hands would lift from her shoulders to hold a low-hanging branch out of her way, but each time she felt the absence of his hand, she hesitated, her hands instinctively reaching out ahead of her as she tried to feel her way through the night air.

She was starting to regret letting Rowan blindfold her.

The next time she stumbled was because instead of allowing herself to be nudged to the left, she kept straight and walked right into a tree stump, cursing as she leaned back into Rowan’s chest and shook out her foot. Huffing, she told him, “If I die because of your dumb idea, I’ll haunt you so hard.”

She didn’t have to see him to know he was rolling his eyes at her. “If you’d stop fighting me at every turn, then you wouldn’t be almost dying from tree stumps.” The light squeeze he gave her shoulders negated any true annoyance, but she could tell that the exasperation in his tone was real.

Finally relenting as Rowan’s hands dropped from her shoulders to her waist, Aelin accepted his guidance as they continued walking.

“Why do I have to wear a blindfold?” she asked for the dozenth time. “It’s dark, we’re walking through the woods that you and I both know I’ve never been through, and now my toes are going to be bruised. It isn’t like I’d recognize where we're going, so why do you insist on debilitating me?”

Rowan’s laugh sounded even more exasperated than his words a minute ago. “Aelin—”

“Have I finally made you snap? Are you bringing me out here to murder me?” she joked with an exaggerated gasp. “Slaying me in a spooky forest on Halloween – points for style, but not much originality.” She didn’t give him a second to answer before pleading with him again, “Rowan, come on, you know I hate surprises.”

He snorted and decided not to even touch the murder commentary. “No, you hate surprises that you didn’t plan yourself. You love surprises when you’re the one making everyone else’s hearts stop in their chests.”

She abruptly stilled and Rowan caught himself before he sent them both tumbling. “Are you saying my heart's going to stop? That isn’t much of a defense to my murder accusation.”

“I’m saying,” Rowan retorted, reaching out to grab a branch and hold it up and out of Aelin’s way, “stop arguing with me; you might actually like this surprise.”

“Seeing as I had no input, I’d say that’s doubtful.”

Rowan grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” she asked with enough cheek to tell him she knew exactly which choice words he’d muttered.

He waited until he’d led her over a damp pile of leaves before answering, “Just reminding myself of how much I love you.”

She hummed. “Didn’t sound like that to me.”

“Yeah, well,” one of Rowan’s hands flexed on her waist and carefully guided her along the path. “Reminding myself why I shouldn’t let you live out your Halloween murder fantasy is the same thing.”

“Rude.” Aelin scoffed, resting one of her hands on one of his bracketing her waist to squeeze his fingers. His answering squeeze brought an amused smile to her face.

A minute passed in relative silence, broken only by the light crunches of their boots over the forest floor.

“We’re almost there,” Rowan assured as if he could tell she had just been about to ask.

“You still haven’t told me where there is.”

“And you still won’t get me to.”

A breeze whistled through the trees and Aelin was suddenly glad Rowan had insisted on bringing their hats and gloves. It also helped that she had a veritable wall of muscle at her back shielding her from the worst of the chill.

“Can you at least promise me,” she tried again, hoping to get some answer, “that whatever this is will be better than that Halloween party we were invited to?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

She did too. “Because, you know, if we’d gone to that, I wouldn’t be bundled up in all these layers,” she reached forward and twirled her gloves around, “I would be wearing that queen costume I showed you.”

Rowan’s foot caught on a branch and Aelin held in a laugh. He squeezed her waist again and cleared his throat before asking, his voice rougher than it had been a second ago, “The one with the thigh-high stockings?”

She nodded. “The one with the thigh-high stockings.”

As the seconds stretched out in silence, Aelin grinned.

At some point they walked out of the woods, Aelin felt the damp soil turn into hard asphalt, and the constant feeling of being surrounded by trees disappeared. And then Rowan was leading her up some stairs and she was trying to figure out how one minute she was walking through the woods and the next she was in…a house?

It wasn’t much longer before Rowan pulled her to a stop and then his fingers rose to the back of her head to untie the blindfold. As she blinked, he leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a look and see for yourself.”

It took her a second to get her bearings. They were in a house, one that wasn’t familiar, but even if she knew where they were, the room she was standing in would’ve been unrecognizable.

A large sheet was hung up on one wall bracketed by small strands of lights dangling off the sides. A sofa sat in the middle of the room, but instead of holding a couple of pillows, it was being used as structural support for the blankets that were lofted over the back and pulled taught to create a fort on the floor in front of it. A small projector sat on a side table aimed at the sheet. And, as she slowly walked towards the front of the fort, she saw all the blankets, pillows, and bags of candy and chips laid out.

“What…” she was speechless as she slowly turned towards Rowan who looked beyond pleased with himself. “I don’t…”

Stepping around her, Rowan pressed a button on the projector and suddenly it flickered to life as the sheet now showed the title card to Friday the 13th. The smirk on his face was the definition of smug.

“Seriously – Rowan, are we…?”

“Are we…” he urged her to finish her thought as his smirk grew wider. When she continued to look at him in disbelief, he stepped closer and some of his smugness turned softer. “In the supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of the Orynthian woods?”

Her brows flew up as she nodded along. “I have so many questions…but my first is,” she jerked her chin towards the piles of food, “are there Twizzlers in there?”

Rowan barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Twizzlers? Do you think I don’t know you? It’s stocked with Red Vines, you menace.”

“Of course, I never should have doubted you.” Aelin couldn’t contain her smile if she tried. “So, this…”

“This,” he laughed, “Right. The haunted house? Not haunted. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” she echoed, grinning.

“Just abandoned, and recently put on the market by some family member of the people who used to live here. The listing went to Enda’s firm, and he’s been showing it for a few weeks. Believe it or not, not many people want to live this far into the forest.”

“Shocking.”

“I know.”

Aelin poked his chest before sliding her hands up around his neck. The grin she wore softened at the edges and fell into a fond smile which she hoped conveyed how much she appreciated this whole gesture.

“Anyways,” he went on as his arms twined around her waist to pull her flush against him. “I convinced my dear cousin to me borrow it for the night, so long as I promised to keep it decently clean.”

Realization hit her and had her beaming again. “So you mean—”

“That you won’t get your Halloween murder, but you’re about to spend a night in a ‘haunted’ house.”

“On Halloween.”

“On Halloween.” He confirmed, once again looking downright smug. She had to give it to him, Rowan really outdid himself with this one.

Pulling back to look him better in the eye, she arched a brow. “Okay, but how did you manage this whole setup?”

She stepped out of his embrace and kneeled down in front of the fort to take in the orange blankets and pumpkin pillows. When she glanced back up, Rowan was leaning against the side table, his arms crossed, still overly pleased with catching her off guard.

The tips of his ears flushed red as he said, “I have my ways.”

Aelin wasted no more time, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the fort with her. They situated themselves amongst the blankets, leaning their backs against the sofa. Rowan draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as she curled her arm over his middle and rested her head on his chest. The movie started up just as she was opening a pack of Red Vines and stretching one up to feed to her boyfriend.

“I won’t underestimate your surprises again,” she promised. “This is perfect. Happy Halloween, Buzzard.”

He laughed, “Happy Halloween, Fireheart.”

Aelin tilted her face up and leaned in to kiss him, but right as she was about to connect her lips with his, a low, drawn-out creaking sound echoed through the dark hallways of the house. She pulled back with a hand on his chest and glanced toward the sound. The creaking sounded again.

“Ooh, nice special effects,” she commended, too focused on listening to realize Rowan’s body had gone stiff next to hers. Finding his gaze, she was confused to see his green eyes widen in alarm.

“That wasn’t me.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @rowaelinrambling @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @elentiyawhitethorn @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111 @the-lonelybarricade

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin #Rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #tog #halloween fics #halloween prompts #Halloween

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liannelara-dracula · 3 years ago

Text

Anon Ask: How do the Sakamaki brothers react when Christa regains her ment*l health and becomes a good mother (or mother figure) to them all?

Hi Love,

Good question, I don’t have too much on this but I’ll give you my best assumption. :)

-Liannelara

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

Warning:

*certain words have been censored for Tumblr guidelines.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

General hcs:

Before I begin I’d like to say that to me it’s a little weird that A vampire can be ill considering she’s not human. I know it’s a ment*l illness issue but wonder if it works the way humans do.

Cause I mean we know they don’t work the same so I’m just wondering if perhaps it’s not exactly an illness but something to do with magic?

Like in some vampire fiction they have a humanity spectrum and when they are deep in their vampiric side it’s hard for them to drop the b|oodlust.

What if this is the same for Christa’s illness.

Maybe a form of compulsion to convince herself?

I know you must be thinking, what about Azusa? Well I mean he was human it may still reside with him so he has the capability to have a human ment*l Illness of course it really depends on the transition process.

And even Kanato, this one stumps me but there’s definitely got to be a reason why he is the way he is. I mean no one is born a psych*path.

But enough about that—let’s get to the point.

you know I would say it depends on where they psychology stand at this point.

Like are they still children or adults?

If they are children the possibility of them being redeemed is about 60-40%

The reason I say this is because if Beatrix and Cordelia are still around it doesn’t change the situation at all.

It would actually only change Subaru’s situation because its his mother.

And I honestly don’t think Christa, like most people, would actually care to reach out.

However say she has a very soft heart even for her nephews and their moms are not around them then yes they would have possibly become better.

Now if they were teens/adults when this happened theirs nothing she can do honestly.

She’d probably be deemed as pathetic.

And they honestly can’t stand it if she’d try to reach out.

And Subaru would have to protect her for that reason.

I think he’d also have a hard time adjusting but because it’s his mom and he seeks love and comfort and is somewhat desperate with that he’d latch on to her like a safety net sooner or later.

I don’t think she could change anyone except her son.

Like if she approached Shu he’d just tell her to get out of his face and leave him alone/you don’t know anything about me.

Reiji: on the other hand, is polite to her but if she says something to reach out to him he’s quick to dismiss her and be like I’m fine you’re pathetic tho.

Laito: may be upset. But he might play it call and says she's wasting her time.

Kanato: I mean there's nothing to say he will probably just throw a tantrum and be like "what do you know?"

Ayato: can't be bothered with it he doesn't want to hear it honestly.

Subaru: is unsure how to feel at first and is somewhat concerned if this isn't a dream.

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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers hcs #dl hcs #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #anime #anime headcanons #anime requests #diahell #christa sakamaki

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

Text

Separation, Connection - 2/2

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 3.5k

SSB2021 Square Fill → Table Sex - @star-spangled-bingo

BBB2021 Square Fill → “You’re such a tease” - @buckybarnesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, jealousy, smut. sexual activities, swearing.

Betas → @fandomfic-galore // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → I cannot believe how much everybody has loved part one, honestly, I am over the moon with all your comments and disdain for Bucky’s behaviour! I hope you like this part and I cannot wait to read your comments about how things turn out...

Firefly’s Masterlist

READ PART ONE HERE!

Previously: You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

The suite was filled with an assortment of flowers, sweet treats, and gift boxes, all unopened. From bright coloured ribbon to delicate lace detailing, the space was overwhelming and the sentiment behind each one wasn’t even close to what you wanted, needed from Bucky.

You laid on your couch, looking up to the ceiling, balloons filled with confetti swaying into view. Surely Bucky knows that he can’t buy your friendship. But maybe he is sorry. You looked over to your best friend sitting on the floor beside you, supposedly deeply invested in their book until a smirk formed on their face.

Wanda turned to you, “You already know what I think you should do - go and talk to him.”

She was right, you probably should talk to him. You knew Bucky hadn’t just tried to buy your friendship. It was in the way he’d hold the door open for you, drop off a coffee when you were doing paperwork, and how he’d always check in with you before, during and after training and missions. It was sweet, and not too dissimilar to the Bucky from before. However, this time, he made you even more nervous; the boyish charm that he didn’t use with you often was more noticeable, and the mischievous sparkle in his eye made you squirm.

“Okay.” You sat up, twisting to plant your feet on the ground, “I’m going to tell him. FRIDAY, where is Sergeant Barnes?”

The AI addressed you, “He’s currently sparring in the gym.”

You skipped down the corridor, leg bouncing in the elevator and wishing you’d taken the stairs as it would have been quicker at this rate, with excitement bubbling in your chest at how you would greet Bucky, accept his apology and forgive him. Then you’d tell him how you feel about him and deal with the rejection when it came to it but right now, all you wanted was your friend back.

Gliding through the automatic sliding doors, the spring in your step propelling forward into the gym and greeting the other gym users with a beaming smile or nod. The approach to the sparring ring had the nerves tickle under your skin and you bit your lip in hopes to ground yourself.

It’s only Bucky, your best friend. He wants you in your life. You reminded yourself and weaved between the agents to look at the spectacle that had gathered such a crowd. Bucky had an agent pinned to the ground, those thick muscular thighs straddled across them and the ones in his bulging bicep rippling as he applied pressure on his forearm against their windpipe.

“Bet they’ve been in that position more than once before,” an agent laughed, joined in by a couple of other peers.

Your stomach twisted at the comment and the sudden movement in the sparring ring had you pausing the step forward. It was her; they’d twisted in the tussle and she was now facing you and straddling Bucky’s hips. She panted above him and attempted to wrap her hand around his neck.

“Oh yeah, they’ve done this before, with a lot fewer clothes.” The agent beside you commented to another chorus of sniggers and laughs.

Nails dug into the palm of your hands as you steeled your nerves, jaw clenched and tongue pressing hard against the roof of your mouth. She glanced up at the murmurs and spotted you, a smirk on her painted lips. You couldn’t stand the sight and spun on your heel, wanting nothing more than to escape, again.

Bucky rolled his head back and saw your retreating figure between the legs of the crowd. Without a second thought, he shoved the agent off him and got to his feet and shoving the people aside in a bid to catch up to you. This couldn’t happen, not again.

You smashed through the doors, almost swinging it off the hinge. You hadn’t even looked back at him and he wasn’t sure if you even knew he was there until he heard a frustrated growl, one he’d never heard from you before. Bucky turned the corner to find you slumped against the wall by the elevator, head hanging low.

He stepped forward but was stopped by your raised hand, “Please just leave me alone.”

Bucky’s heart cracked at the defeat in your voice, the way you caved into yourself. Not letting him help with whatever it was you were dealing with. He knew what had happened, saw the agent above him grinning like the cat that got the cream.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky leant his side against the wall, giving you enough space but still able to watch your every move in case you tried to run away again, “Please talk to me.”.

“I was ready to forgive you.” You glared at him, he could see the tears threatening to spill, clinging to your eyelashes and ready to fall.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky reached to cup your cheek, but you batted him away and stood up straight as the elevator made its presence known. He went to follow you into the lift but once again, you stopped him with an outstretched arm.

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that.” You gritted your teeth and took a step back, “Please just leave, James. Go back to your mating ritual or whatever that was out there.”

Bucky was at a loss for words, he knew he’d betrayed your trust when it came to not talking about his sexual rendezvous but now, he was stumped. You were jealous and he finally realised why you hadn’t accepted his gifts. You didn’t want his attention or just his friendship; you wanted his affection, his love and he wanted to give that to you.

You meant the world to him, and yes, he’d broken the number one rule when it comes to friendship, he needed to explain why he did what he did. But first, he needed to get you to listen which was the more difficult part. You were stubborn and closed yourself off whenever someone tried to pry inside that pretty head of yours.

Bucky was willing to get inside, whatever it took, whatever you needed.

“No doll, I’m not leaving you. We need to talk about this.” Bucky stepped past you and pulled you into the elevator.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to shake Bucky, and he’d follow you into your suite. You wanted him to but also didn’t at the same time. Your head and heart were in a conflict that left you frustrated and ready to snap.

The flowers mocked you, the balloons swaying with a smirk and the unopened packages sparkled in knowing. Ignoring the gifts, you strode through the suite and into the dining room with Bucky hot on your heels.

“Please can you give me some space?” You sighed, a hand dragging down your face.

“Okay,” Bucky held his hands up in submission, “look, I know what I did, I betrayed your trust, I know what I said hurt your feelings.”

You scoffed, that was an understatement, turning to look at him and leaning against the kitchen cabinets, hands braced on the counter, knuckles whitening as you tried to maintain your composure.

“I can only hope that one day you’ll forgive me and let me back in, to be on your side again. I should have told you about-”

“Don’t you dare say her name.” You pointed at him. Bucky smirked, making you even angrier than before. “Are you getting a kick out of this?”

“No, of course not, what is wrong with you?” Bucky’s smile faded instantly, and he shook his head, “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re jumping down my throat the second I speak.”

You reared your head back, mouth agape, you knew he was right but considering he dared to say it out loud was enough for your blood to boil over. You went to shove past Bucky, to escape to your bedroom or bathroom but he twisted you both around and pushed you against the wall.

“Will you just stop for one second.” Bucky held your squirming body, “I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” The tears finally fell as you thought of him loving her, the words stuttering out, “We’re- just- friends.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and leant forward, you pushed his chest in a panic but unable to escape his hold and then raised your hand to punch him. Bucky’s hand closed around your fist before it could hit his cheek and he held your arms above your head.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N, I’m trying to kiss you.” He growled, his legs pinning your leg in place.

“Still want to kiss me after I tried to punch you?” You were angry and confused. Wasn’t he telling you about his feelings for that woman that was straddling him earlier? “You’re only interested because I met someone else. That I don’t let you get under my skin anymore.”

Bucky growled again and surged forward, this time you didn’t stop his mouth from descending on yours. The bruising kiss relaxed your body into his hold, yet it was fully alert to his flesh hand kneading at your waist and the cool metal cupping your cheek.

Your mind floated away, all coherence and why you were angry disappeared until Bucky pulled back, leaving you both panting and eyes closed. You suddenly realised that you should stop; your heart was telling you to run but your body demanded more. You wanted him.

You yanked Bucky back to you at the nape of his neck and crashing your lips to his again. Tongues swiped along each of your mouths, teeth nipped at one another. He knew exactly what to do, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip again and he began rocking your hips down against the thick muscle. Warmth bloomed in your tummy from the friction of Bucky’s sweatpants against your clothed core.

His locks found their way around your fingers and the slight tug elicited a moan from his plump lips, parting you both momentarily. Eyes locked, pupils dilated in lust, and warm heavy breaths filled the space. You were momentarily lost in the feelings, overwhelmed but unsatiated. The anger still simmered in your veins; the venom was heavy on your tongue for what he put you through, but you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. You had to have him, at least once, and it would be on your terms.

You somehow managed to spin the hunk of a super soldier around, pressing his back against the wall. The smell of Bucky; that woodsy musk and sweat overwhelmed your senses, you’d been close to him but not this close. Without thinking you, began peppering wet kisses down the column of his neck, nipping at his collarbone. He tried to explore your body, hands dipping under the hem of your shirt and you almost caved into their search before you pulled away.

Being this close to Bucky, to finally getting somewhat of what you had dreamed of was putting your head in a spin, but you needed to get him out of your system. What better way than to fuck it out? To fall over the precipice of ecstasy and let it wash away your desire and need for him. To move on from one, James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky’s brows furrowed at the uncertainty that was clearly painting your features, “are you-”

You didn’t want his reassurances right now, you just wanted him to kiss you again, “want you Bucky.”

“I know, but we need to get rid of this first,” Bucky was biting his lip as he pointed at your top.

You nodded and he slowly tugged it over your head, you were too impatient and pushed him back to the wall. Letting him drink in your body while removing your sports bra. The cool air against your skin was welcoming but didn't dampen the fire pooling in your belly.

You leant in to kiss him again, bringing both of his hands up to your breasts. It was messy, all teeth and tongues as you both fought for dominance. His fingers twisting and teasing at your nipples sent goosebumps across your skin. Bucky’s mouth began to explore your jaw and neck. It felt like he was everywhere, turning you into putty.

Is this what it felt like to be with him? To have him worshiping your body. Your mind flashed back to the moment you saw him pinning that agent against the wall, the way he’d fucked her. It soured the moment and you pulled away.

“Is this what you fucking do? Charm your way into women’s pants?” You were pacing back and forth, “I’m such a fool.”

Bucky hadn’t said a word, he was leaning against the wall and a forlorn look on his face, his hair spiking up every which way. It made your heart flutter and the noticeable erection under his pants was making your mouth water. He didn’t show an ounce of regret, he actually looked enamoured with you. No, it can’t be. You shook the thought from your head, letting the anger morph into passion again.

You strode over, he was ready to catch you the moment you leapt into his arms. Mouths crashing down on one another again in a heated battle. His hands held your back tight to his chest, your core almost, almost, getting what it needed through the material. You were lowered down, your back meeting the coolness of your kitchen table and Bucky kissed between your breasts, your eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure.

Bucky’s weight disappeared and his body moved away, leaving you cold and alone. You peeked open one eye, a slight fear that he’d have a face of regret but then you saw the look of desire and lopsided smile as he shimmied his pants and boxers to the floor.

He returned to the spot between your legs and, you almost had him where you wanted him as he reached out to pull at your leggings, but his hands paused, resting at your hips. Your brow furrowed, unsure of what he was thinking so you sat up, and he looked anywhere but your face.

You tucked a finger under his chin to bring his attention to you and whispered, “What is it?”

“Are you sure about this?” Bucky quietly asked.

“Of course, I am, I would have kicked you out the moment you got here otherwise.” You smiled and pulled him closer to press your lips to his cheek.

You slowly edged down his jaw line with small light kisses, spurred on by feeling him relax under your touch. Teeth grazed along his pulse, Bucky moaning into the now electrified kitchen. He pulled you to the edge of the table and lifted slightly to remove your leggings, placing you back down gently.

You fell back against the table while his fingers rubbed over your soaked panties, swirling in rough motions. He swiped the material to the side, his fingers glided through your dripping folds. You were completely consumed by him and the way his fingers pumped and stretched your cunt open while his thumb caressed your clit.

“You’re such a tease.” A mumble of whimpers, profanities, and Bucky, left your lips as you tried to convey your need for him to fuck you, “Please.”

The words were silenced as his cock skimmed over your folds, nudging at your bundle of nerves, teasing you higher and higher into pleasure. It felt like it had been minutes, in reality it was mere seconds, when Bucky finally pushed the tip of his cock into your cunt, walls fluttering and stretching around him.

Gasps fell from both of your lips as Bucky adjusted his weight, shifting deeper inside you slowly with your walls clenching around him. Another thrust forward and he was burying himself to the hilt, filling you up completely. Your cunt was pulsing around him, dripping around his cock with want the moment Bucky grabbed your knee and pulled it up to his shoulder.

This new angle got him deeper and deeper with every thrust, the table creaking under the movement, you no longer cared, all you could think about was him and the pleasure he was giving you.

Your back arching and head spinning as Bucky kept the pace, unfaltering as you suddenly climbed to the peak of your orgasm. His grunts and skin slapping against skin was pushing you higher and higher. The wood cut into your palm as you held tightly to the edge with each wave of pleasure until you were unreservedly consumed by ecstasy.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Bucky spluttered, his movements matching his speech, “You’re gonna make me cum too quickly if you keep clenching like that.”

Your grip loosened and traded the wooden table to skim through your folds in search of more and to keep teasing your nipples, and Bucky. You bit your lip, watching him watch you touch yourself whilst he fucked you was turning you on.

Bucky regained his composure with a grunt, pushing your fingers away with his vibranium ones and began circling your clit. The cold metal sent a rush of pleasure across your skin, heating your desire.

“Cum again, I know you got another one in you, Doll.” Bucky smirked above you as he continued to ram into your cunt and flick at your clit in perfect unison.

Your vision blurred and your body keened, letting out a silent scream, you came undone around him. Body shaking as you felt Bucky grip your hips with both hands as he hit you harder and harder until he stilled, unloading inside of you.

“Fuck,” you rasped.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you anything or?” Bucky asked, as he collected the scattered clothes around the kitchen.

“I’m fine Bucky, thanks.” You replied, facing away from him, and clipping your bra back in place.

You could feel the tension in the room, and you hoped Bucky hadn’t noticed. You knew he would, he’s not stupid, but you secretly wished that it would be ignored. There were no regrets on your part and you’re sure Bucky enjoyed himself, it just seemed like you’d have to do a lot more talking than before. Maybe you should have started with that instead of letting him kiss you or letting yourself kiss him back.

“Do you want me to stay or go?” Bucky quietly asked as he put on his shirt.

You weren’t surprised at his care before but now you were for the uncertainty that laced his words, once you’d put on your shirt, you turned to him, “Come on Buck, I’m just another one of them, you just happen to know me a little better. It was just sex.”

If it wasn’t for his close proximity, you wouldn’t have heard the words that Bucky whispered; it wasn’t to me.

“What did you just say?” You looked at him in shock, heart racing at the blush forming on his cheeks.

“It wasn’t just sex to me.” He coughed into his hand and rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ve always loved you Y/N and I’ve told you that a thousand times. Is there any chance we can be something more?”

You chewed on your lip, butterflies erupting in your belly at the prospect of what Bucky was asking, of the potential heart break you might endure. It was clouded by the way she had smirked at you in the gym, the gossip shared by Natasha and the advice Wanda had given you about self-care. It was all blurring into one and you didn’t know what to say or do. You were torn between your head and heart.

“I think it’s going to take more than gifts and sex. We had a frienship, and I trust you with my life but not with my heart.” You paused and tipped his face so you could really look at him, to see him, “I don’t think we can be something right now, but in time, I think we can get there.”

“Can we start over?” Bucky asked, eyes wide in hope as he leant into your palm.

You took a step away and stretched out your hand, “Nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes, I’m Agent Y/L/N. Do you know any decent places around here to get a bite to eat?”

Bucky’s large hand enveloped yours, a soft smile on his lips, “I know just the place.”

The End…

Separation, Connection Tag List: @coffeebooksandfandom / @ababysupernova / @learisa / @joseyrw / @bubblyz / @nadinesabre / @osterfieldshollandgirl / @clarinette07 / @amaltheametalweld / @iloveangstposts / @gogolucky13 / @ohjammers / @justiceiswater / @countonthesun / @propertyofpoeandbucky / @deaan / @iloveangstposts / @silverarmedassassin /

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove / @lizzarooni

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#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Smut

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : You Again

Summary: It’s been years since seeing each other and a lot has changed.

Genre: Fluff , Mentions of Smut

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,478

* * * * * *

Green eyes discreetly watch their surroundings as the redhead makes her way down the street. She purposely avoids stepping too close to anyone.

Her hand shoves into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. A blocked number displayed across the top of the phone telling her exactly who is calling.

Turning down an empty alley, she answers.

As expected it’s Fury requesting that she come in and she agrees without hesitation. The call ending just as she’s on the other side of the alley.

The second someone collides into her shoulder she tenses and levels them with a glare.

E/c eyes instantly flicker over her form,“ I’m so sorry I’m in a bit of a rush, are you okay?” The voice belonging to the offender sounds wildly familiar, causing the redhead to frown and look up at their face.

The woman in front of her raises an eyebrow, a concernedly soft smile tugs at her lips.

“I-I’m fine.” Natasha says, the frown still deep on her face.

Nodding, the h/c takes a small step to the side, and continues to rush down the sidewalk.

The encounter remains in Natasha’s mind until she gets to the compound. She just can’t shake how familiar the woman looked. Those eyes were ones she swears she’s seen before, that voice pulled at something seemingly buried deep in her memory.

It’s not until she’s standing in front of Fury himself that she let’s the thoughts ghost away.

“You took your sweet time Romanoff.” He says with a stone face, but knowing him for years allows Natasha to detect the teasing in his tone.

Moving her curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head, the redhead smirks,“ I was in the city Nick.”

He nods in understanding.“ Well now that you’re here, welcome to your new assignment,” he holds a file out to her.

She accepts it and flips it open. The frown from earlier returns as she looks at the list of recruits, the same familiar face from earlier stares back at her from one of the many pictures.

“Don’t tell me all your Avenging has made you too hot for recruit training.” Fury teases once more.

“No just- where’s the file on recruit seventeen?” Her inquiry makes Fury raise his eyebrows, head raising in further curiosity.

However he searches through the stack of files on his desk,“ lucky for you they haven’t been processed yet.” He hands her yet another file and she tries her best to refrain from frantically flipping it open.

The second she sees the name at the top her breath hitches.

There’s no way it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Perched behind the ledge on the building’s roof, Natasha once again peaks through the scope of her sniper.

“I’d truly appreciate if you didn’t kill him. Not until he’s answered my questions at least.”

The voice put Natasha on guard instantly. She can’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her.

Spinning around, a stoic expression plastered on her face to hide her true emotions, Natasha comes face to face with a woman nearly four inches shorter than her. An amused smirk plays on the woman’s face and it instantly irritates Natasha.

“I’m afraid your questions will have to go unanswered.” The redhead replies, just waiting for a challenge.

The woman’s hands raise in a show of harmlessness,“ I won’t make your job harder, I imagine if you’ve been looking for him as long as I have this is a rare opportunity.” Nonchalantly she comes closer, raising a questioning eyebrow as she points at the sniper’s scope. Natasha frowns but nods, watching as the woman looks through it.“ What if you just took out his legs. I go in, ask my questions and you finish your job after I’m gone.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to help you?”

“Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do, help people?” An eyebrow raises at Natasha.“ Come on Black Widow, you scratch my back I scratch yours.”

Green eyes narrow at the use of her alias. Something tells her that her identity was known before she was approached.“ Who are you?” She asks.

“Ooo introductions, fun. I’m Y/n but you can call me Ghost.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.“ I work special operations for a private organization. As mentioned, I’m just here to get some answers. Your target is a scientist gone rogue, if I don’t speak to him a lot of people could get hurt, myself included.”

Natasha’s head raises, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception.“ I know who he is.” It’s not surprising that someone else is after the doctor, just surprising that someone found him when she did.

Taking a risk, unlike anything she’d ever do, she agrees to help.

A plan quickly forms between the two of you that executes perfectly. You get your information and she takes out her target, both of you gone without a trace.

“You know, we made a pretty decent team.” A teasing smile hits your lips as you glance at the woman beside you.

“Don’t get used to it.” For the first time tonight, a smirk plays on Natasha’s lips.

Chuckling, you nod,“ since we’ll never see each other again, how would you feel about a celebratory drink?”

Once again, she finds herself taking a risk.

* * * * * * *

Natasha pulls herself from that train of thought before she can dive into the remaining events of that night, though she can faintly remember the feel of your hands across her heated skin as whispers of her beauty left your lips. That wasn’t even the last night it had happened, what you did to her left her hooked.

So much so that it became a regular occurrence for her to end up in your bed when she was assigned to missions in Canada. Connecting with you in bed inevitably lead to a stronger connection emotionally.

It stumped Natasha how you’d managed to get through her facades as if it were nothing. Even more so than that, she wasn’t expecting you to understand her so well, not even her closest friend, the man she considers her brother, understood her the way you did.

But then the Avengers became a thing and she wasn’t sent on missions to Canada anymore.

“When was she recruited?” Natasha asks, finally looking up from the picture of you.

“A few months ago, she found us and that,” the man chuckles impressively,“ that’s impressive on it’s own.”

With nothing more to say to Fury, Natasha nods non verbally accepting the mission, and leaves out. Heading straight to the elevators that would take her to the training floor.

Common noises of the compound could be heard: another group of trainees outside with Sam and Steve, faint sounds of orders being shouted, occasional drilling sounds.

Stepping into the training room, Natasha’s eyes scan the small group of recruits, and land on you.

No wonder she wasn’t sure if you were familiar or not. Last time she saw you, you were shorter than her, just as skinny. Now you’re almost a foot taller, more meat on your bones as defined muscles.

Your eyes land on her and you smirk, winking just barely.

Of course you recognized her, only difference in her is the length of her hair. Those enticing green eyes are still just that, curves still accentuated by the leather catsuit, expression just as stoic as the night you met.

Calling the recruits into order, Natasha runs through the basic entry speech, words of intimidation and motivation spoken to reach the hearts of those who aren’t ready and those born ready. She can easily detect who won’t last longer than a week, you aren’t one of them.

“Pair up, combat training begins now, if you can’t take down each other you have no business in the field.” She says, then looking you dead in the eyes,“ seventeen you’re with me.”

Nodding, you follow her over to a set of mats near the window, stepping up to face her head on. There’s just enough time to release a single breath and then she’s attacking. To anyone else she does so with movements as calm as the wind, each strike or counter move executed with precision.

But you, you know her in a way nobody does, nobody ever has. It allows you to see the slight irritation in her punches, the anxiousness and curiosity in her eyes. It’s how you see that her guard is back up in regards to you.

You let her get the upper hand, yes let, just so she can pin you to the mat, your arm behind your back in her grasp with her mouth to your ear.

“Whatever you’re worried about Romanova, let it go. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” You speak, voice as smooth as the day she first heard it.

Her eyes narrow,“ so why are you here?”

“To see you.” You smile only to grunt when her arm presses into the back of your neck.“ Okay okay. I left the last organization once it fell into the wrong hands, HYDRA’s hands. I found out through some reliable sources that the Avengers were hunting down HYDRA. After what they did to me, what they may still be doing to my friends,” Natasha’s grip has long since loosened, allowing you to shift slightly,“ I have to stop them.”

Releasing you completely, Natasha pops up and offers you a hand of assistance.“ What did they do to you?”

A snort falls from your lips, your arms spreading out,“ don’t tell me it's been so long you don’t notice. Maybe if I-” playfully you squat down to the height you used to be. You smile when you see the slightly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips, accompanied by an eye roll.“ They made me Captain America 2.0 and at first I was with the idea, until I got word of what their true intentions were.”

“They wanted you to be a weapon.” She understands. If no one else ever will, she does. You nod solemnly and the ex-assassin sees how much you’re torn up by the corruption of the organization. It’s like looking in a mirror, that’s exactly how she felt about SHIELD collapsing.

With present company around, you both agree to talk after training, Natasha telling you to come to her quarters after you’ve checked in.

So for the time being you focus on training, nailing the hand to hand combat with Natasha before being handed over to Sam Wilson for basic exercises and a run around the compound, where you’re shown the trainee’s residence.

After checking in with the agent in charge of your training group, you shower, change, and head to the main building in search of Natasha.

It doesn't take long to find her since you follow her directions perfectly.

Looking around at her luxury apartment like quarters, you can’t say you expected anything less. Of course Tony Stark made sure his teammates had more than adequate accommodations.

“Always early L/n.”

The redhead’s familiar sultry voice grabs your attention, causing you to spin around from the window to look at her.

She’s as gorgeous as she’s ever been. Admittedly the long hair suits her better, still damp from the shower she obviously just took and falling down her bare shoulders. Subconsciously your eyes trail down her tank top and yoga pants covered form.

“Eyes up here.” She further teases and your eyes snap up to hers.

“Sorry it's just- you look good Romanova. Really good.” You say breathily.

The urge to just dive head first back into your charm hits Natasha hard. She’s seen you for all of a day and apart from your physical, you seem to be the same person she was falling for all those years ago. The only people she’s ever fallen for.

In the next few minutes, Natasha makes coffee, telling you to wait in the living room for her. Only to return shortly after to hand you a cup, and ease on to the sofa.

Pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her butt, she faces you as you sit beside her, a noticeable distance between you two.

“How long?” She asks almost cautiously, clarifying when you raise your eyebrows.“ How long have you had your abilities?”

“Three years.”

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. Two years after she left HYDRA took over your organization and turned you into a super soldier. She can’t help but wonder what may have happened if she were still around.

Would you have needed her comfort? Could she have stopped it?

Suddenly a weight lands on her knee, a glance down revealing your hand comfortingly resting there.“ There’s nothing you could’ve done. I wanted the serum, just not for the reasons they gave it to me.”

She silently nods, eyes casting back down to the hand on her leg.

Whether or not she mentions it out loud, she missed your touch, even the ones as simple as this. Something about the way your touch affected her, be it arousing or calming, occasionally featherlight with the intent to cause laughter from the usually stoic woman.

A mental sigh brings the thought to the forefront of her mind. It’s not just your touch, it’s you as a whole. Your energy, your aura, your personality, your smile.

How she’d gone five years without you?

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she looks back up into your soft eyes, hurt hides in them that makes her frown and nod.“ Did you ever consider coming back? Or even contacting me?”

The look that crosses her face is answer enough but she still says,“ more often than you’d think. In the beginning, all I could think about was going back to you and never leaving. I considered finding you just to say goodbye.”

“Talked yourself out of it huh.” It’s a statement not a question. Another nod to how well you read her.“ Figured I was better off without you and the enemies you come with, even if my life was dangerous long before you.”

She shakes her head, chuckling at how easily you saw through her reasoning when she hadn’t even admitted it herself.“ Can I contribute that conclusion to you having mind reading abilities?”

“You can if it’ll make you feel better but it’s not true,” your thumb smooths across her knee in the same way it always had.“ I never had to read your mind.”

Much like she always had when it came to you, Natasha allows herself to take just one more risk. She let you in the first time, hopefully this time would end better or not at all.

Laying her hand over yours, her fingers wrap around your hand,“ I’m really glad to see you again.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert

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nikethestatue · 4 years ago

Note

Greetings, Nike.

I am starting to genuinely feel worried about the credibility of Elriel. On all social media platforms (other than Tumblr for my algorithm), I really only see Gwynriel content and theories.

I understand and believe Elriel has canon book content with tons of foreshadow. I truly want them to be endgame. But what if Gwyn is really there for Az? Ngl it kinda terrifies me lol

What if the scene at the end of Azriels bonus chapter was Gwynriel ??? A point a Gwynriel shipper brought up was, Elain doesn’t have the habit of returning gifts. Greysen, Lucien— so why Azriel? I felt a little stumped but I do know it was because she felt rejected.

I just want Elain and Azriel to be together. I need some reassurance lol

Hello!

Firstly, don't worry. Just because they are loud, doesn't mean that they are right. They don't like Elain. That's all. Guess what, many people HATED Nesta (still do), hated Chaol, hated Rowan, hated Rhys (still do)--at the end of the day, it didn't matter. SJM wrote what she wanted to write, told the story she needed to tell, and that was that.

Now, SJM could've written Gwynriel very differently, given something more concrete, given actual interest on part of Azriel towards her, but let's just stick to the beloved POV. If she wanted to set up Gwynriel and since the POV is the the biggest salami out there, hanging for the Gwynriels as 'proof', why, i am curious, would she write the entire part with Elain/Rhys/almost kiss/necklace? She could've just written the Gwyn part. The set up could've been exactly the same--Azriel is returning from Solstice, he is angry, moody, jealous of his brothers, wants a girlfriend. Enter Gwyn! Just write the Gwyn-only portion. Change something with the necklace--let's say he gives her a little gift, even impromptu gift through Clotho. All of that would be much more indicative of interest, of potential.

Instead, you have the Elriel and Rhys portion--where literally, a ton of stuff was suggested, sort of set up, and revealed. Mutual interest, prohibition, Blood Duel, necklace. What exactly was set up in the Gwyn part of the POV? Nothing. She has no bearing on the story as a whole. She is not related to anything that's happening.

Now, onto the necklace. There are different opinions on the significance of the necklace, where some Elriels think he won't play much of a role going forward, like the little book that Cassian tossed into the Sidra. I am of different opinion and I think the necklace will play a role, because I think that the necklace is Made in some way. There is too much back and forth with this necklace, and while I don't think it will play any romantic role/love triangle thing, I think it may possess certain power. That's why Elain (had to) return it. We don't know what Elain knows, what she Sees. We don't know what and how she feels about things. So it's very premature to make any far-reaching opinions about her.

On the surface, and let's stick with that for now, she returned it because it actually shows HOW hurt she was by his rejection. Obviously with Graysen, she couldnt go back to the Human Lands and give the ring back, but she took it off eventually. With Lucien, she keeps showing how indifferent she is towards him through her non-usage of his gifts. With Azriel, it's actually the opposite--it's an action, not passivity. Basically, she is salty. And she lets him know she is salty. She feels rejected and she does the only thing she can in this situation--gives the gift back.

(If somebody thinks that all of this will not be discussed and handled in the next book, well, they are mistaken).

Finally, there is literally no drama, no conflict, no nothing with Gwyn and Az. "I like you, you like me, let's get together'--is that the book? We know SJM will NOT WRITE A LOVE TRIANGLE with two women fighting over a guy. Let's assume Elain steps aside. Gwynriel happens. Then what? That could be done in the first 10 pages. Then what? There never seem to be any answers beyond the vague 'Illyrian plot' which of course is BS. They think she is going to write another book about training? In ACOSF, there was still Nesta (though it seems like people forgot about her), who was Making objects, finding Trove Objects, going to Prison, killing Death Gods, etc. She was the Cauldron Made character with power.

Anyway, I can write and write and write about this...And give like 182718937 examples. :)

Bottom line is, there is no Gwynriel book, as it stands right now. Also, I am pretty sure she'll be given a LI in the next book (not Az), so all of this will be forgotten.

Don't worry. Even ignoring all 4 books of foreshadowing, and going ONLY by the POV, there are like 9 things going on with Elriel that could potentially happen (forbidden romance, Blood Duel, bond rejection? bond acceptance? Rhys vs Az, Lucien, Elain's powers, etc). With Gwyn....no so much.

#pro elriel #elriel #pro elain #elain #acosf #anon ask #anon response

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fanficimagery · 5 years ago

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Friends in High Places

Summary: When Spencer comes home with files to a case that has his team stumped, he's surprised when you- his neighbor for a couple years now- is the person who gives them a new lead to follow. That and that you're ex-SHIELD.

Words: 8K Warnings: This is what I get for starting a rewatch of Criminal Minds and then watching Marvel movies all in one day. Fml. I've never written for Criminal Minds, so please excuse the mediocre-ness of their characterization. I have no idea what I'm doing; I just knew I wanted a crossover between these two fandoms. Also timeline? What are those? All you gotta know is that this is an AU where Bucky's joined the team and Steve DIDN'T ruin the life Peggy Carter would have had. As for the CM side, this is sometime after Hotch has left and Emily took over. Idk.

Having the night off and wanting nothing more than to just be lazy, you're sitting on your couch in your most comfiest clothes and mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr as your TV plays some program on Animal Planet. You're not even paying attention to the program, but the low sound is perfect for background noise.

You're queuing up some art posts that catch your attention, as well as some gif sets of the TV shows you've become a constant viewer of in the past few years, when there's a knock at your door. But not just any knock. It's a specific knock that you and your neighbor came up with after you got to know each other and became fast friends, and it was to let the other know they were home and wanted company. You mostly worked nights and his work schedule was always all over the place, so it's surprising you're both home at the same time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot him a quick text that you'll be over in five.

Spencer Reid is literally the man of every woman's dream, even if they didn't know it. He's cute and adorable and sometimes dangerously hot all rolled into one, and the best thing about it all is that he doesn't even know it. You had met him on one of your first few days in the apartment complex, but unfortunately it was during one of your slight panic attacks when a thunderstorm had caught you off guard while you were sitting in your car and you didn't have an umbrella.

He had seen and heard you freaking out as he was passing by, and knocked on the passenger window. You had collected yourself just long enough to roll the window down a few inches when he asked if you were okay, then proceeded to answer his own question by stating you obviously weren't. When he realized you lived in the same complex and asked if he could climb inside your car and out of the storm, you had stared at him in confusion until he realized that might have been a bit weird since you were strangers. He stammered his way through his explanation of being an FBI agent and after showing you his badge you had let him in.

You didn't have to tell him what was making you panic and he proceeded to keep your mind occupied. He asked about you and where you had moved in from, and spewed random facts about anything to temporarily make you forget about the storm raging outside. But the torrential rain wasn't letting up and the lightning was only getting closer and closer. He made you realize you had to make a run for it and even offered up his umbrella for you. You had thanked him with tears in your eyes and made a run for it on the count of three when you were settled just enough.

Inside the lobby of your apartment building, you had stood there trembling while Spencer nervously gripped onto the strap of his messenger bag as he stood across from you. When you were shaking the water off his umbrella, you hesitantly told him your reasoning for your freak-out. It wasn't necessarily the thunderstorm, but rather the torrential rain that wasn't letting up. A few years back you had a drowning incident and too much water on your face tended to bring back those memories. He said he understood and then with a sympathy tinged smile he offered to walk you to your apartment. It was a pleasant surprise to learn you had only lived two doors down from him.

Weeks turned into months and months into a couple of years, and you and Spencer were nearly inseparable when you both had the same day/night off.

So after quickly fixing your already messy hair so you don't look like a complete slob, and pulling on a loose hoodie, you grab your phone from the sofa and then head on out. Your socked feet keep your footsteps quiet as you head down to Spencer's door where you knock three times on it before opening it up and stepping inside.

But before you can greet him with a cheesy welcome, he's already calling out, "Hope you haven't had dinner. I picked up some burgers on the way home."

On cue, your stomach grumbles. "God bless you, you beautiful, beautiful man!" You hear him laugh from a room that's not where his kitchen is, so you make a beeline for the kitchen instead of accidentally walking in on him changing. There are two paper bags on the table and you quickly grab plates from his cabinet to separate the food on. Spencer enters the kitchen in a shirt and some gray joggers, and you greet him with a beaming smile. "You're home and in one piece! Yay!" He laughs and you quickly lean in to peck his cheek, not saying a word when you catch sight of his pink tinged cheeks. "You have any beer?"

"Yes. Grab two, please."

"Got it." You hear one of his kitchen chairs creak as you open his refrigerator to grab two beers, you then searching a nearby drawer for the bottle opener. Once you find it, you walk back over to the table and open each beer before handing one over to him.

"Thanks."

"Mhm." Taking a seat, you set your beer down before unwrapping your burger and dumping your fries out onto the plate. "So what's up, doc? You're home surprisingly early."

"We've hit a wall on our latest case," he says, keeping it vague. "There was nothing for us to do while Garcia did her thing, so Emily sent us home for a bit."

"Nice." You take a bite of your burger and your eyes widen when Spencer's eyebrows raise in surprise. When you realize how your words sounded, you're quick to backtrack. "Wait! It's not nice that you hit a wall, but nice that you got sent home! I got free food out of it. That's why it's nice. Not because, you know, you haven't found the-"

"Y/N, you're rambling," Spencer says, lips twitching. "I understood what you meant."

You sigh, shoulders dropping, and grab half a fry to toss at him. "Eat your food, Reid. It's getting cold."

It surprisingly doesn't take long for the two of you to eat your dinner, you both being hungrier than you first thought. After you're done, Spencer turns down a second beer but tells you to help yourself. You do. And on the way into his living room, you bump into one of his chairs and knock his bag over. You gasp and set your beer down on the coffee table, falling to your knees to scoop up his files that had spilled out.

Chuckling, Spencer crouches next to you as you profusely apologize.

"It's okay. It was an accident." A few pictures had slid out of their files and normally you'd just shove them back in because his work wasn't any of your business, but the face staring back up at you makes you pause. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little heavy on the eyeliner, and a lip piercing. You know her. "Y/N?" You gulp and flip to another picture- brown hair, brown eyes, mole above the right eyebrow. You know her too. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

With trembling hands, you flip back to the first picture and show it to him. "Is Lilian dead?"

Spencer's eyes widen. "You knew her?"

Knew. Past tense. She is dead. Showing him the second picture, you nod sadly. "Kyndall too."

He seems to stop breathing then and from one moment to the next he's opening files and pulling out picture after picture. As you stare at each of them, you grimace and swallow down the bile that's threatening to climb its way up your throat. "Y/N, do you know any of the others?"

Shakily exhaling, you point at each picture. "Desiree, Celeste, Maria. I don't know this one, but I think her last name was Valdez? And then the male is Tim."

Spencer falls on his butt, staring at you in surprise. "That's right. We know their names and their current line of work, but that's about it. Their files only seem to go back a few years. Everything between the end of their high school career and current line of work seems to be scrubbed clean. Do you- do you know of any connection between these people? Any little thing you know can possibly be a big help to my team."

Your gaze darts up to him and your heart sinks. You've managed to keep your past mostly hidden, but now it seems the time has come to tell him what you did before. "They, uh, they're all ex-agents of SHIELD. The real SHIELD, not HYDRA."

"What?"

"If I remember correctly, they were computer analysts or paper pushers. They had gun training as one would think an agent would have, but they were agents who didn't really have to train in hand-to-hand since they never made it out into the field."

"You're positive? How do you know this?"

You gulp. "Because I'm ex-SHIELD too."

Spencer blinks at you, but then in the next moment he's up on his feet and reaching for his phone. He places a quick phone call, stepping into another room and leaving you alone. Your stomach sinks and you have a feeling that this confession might have just put a wedge in your friendship. After all, though ex-agents were being picked up by other different branches of the government, you weren't sure just how exactly trustworthy all ex-agents were being treated.

Spencer reappears, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. "Do you mind coming with me back to work? My co-workers could really pick your brain about this."

You blink at him. "W-What? You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" He chuckles. "Why would I be mad? I mean I wish I had known what you did so I didn't have to worry about you being alone when I left for a case, but I can see why you would keep that underwraps. HYDRA made a lot of people paranoid."

"Tell me about it," you mumble. Then after a few seconds, you finally climb up to your own two feet. "Um, just let me go put on some shoes. I'll meet you in the hall."

Spencer's smile and nod eases some of your worries, but you still quickly make an escape to go put on some shoes. Your front door bangs open and you hurry to your hall closet. Yanking open that door, you pull on the first pair of Converse you come across. Then taking a moment to think, you grab a pair of knee high boots that you use every once in a while. Reaching inside, you grab your old badge and a USB stick, sticking your badge in your back pocket and the USB in your front pocket. Then grabbing your keys from the hook by the front door, you shut the door after exiting and lock it. Spencer is waiting down the hall for you and you jog towards him. He tightly smiles and then leads you downstairs, towards his car, and you sit quietly in his passenger seat while he drives.

On the way towards Spencer's place of work, he can't help but ask, "So what exactly did you do with SHIELD if you don't mind me asking."

You shrug. "Cat's out of the bag now, so I don't mind." You chuckle though it kind of falls flat. "I was, uh, a computer analyst for a while. But then I was taken on a field trip with a few agents and we ended up trading bullets with several not so nice guys. The field agents liked the way I handled myself and requested I level up, so to speak."

"And you never thought of trying to get hired on with anyone else? If I recall, the FBI and CIA were picking up ex-SHIELD agents after the fall."

You shake your head. "Remember that drowning incident I mentioned? Or the reason why I can't take baths anymore and have to turn my shower on and off between washing?" Spencer hums, remembering what he thought were odd quirks until he realized it was all because of your fear of certain amounts of water. "That drowning incident was HYDRA's fault. I spent months in rehab and just- well, no one wanted a damaged agent."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of glad they didn't. I quite like my neighbor who picks up take-out and bakes sweets for me after a rough case."

You try not to think too much about his words and instead choose to smile at him before looking out your window. The drive is only about twenty minutes and fortunately the radio fills in the semi-tense silence.

When you get to the FBI building, Spencer escorts you inside with a hand at the small of your back. You're given a visitor's badge and you quickly clip it onto the hem of your hoodie. The elevator ride up to the BAU's main floor is a short one and it opens up to a wall of glass where you can see several desks behind it.

Spencer opens the door for you and you can't help but make yourself seem as small as possible. You cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself as you enter the room. There are several people milling about, but no one pays you any attention. Only one female, dark bangs covering her forehead while the rest of her hair falls just passed her shoulders, heads towards you once she spots you and Spencer.

"Y/N," Spencer says, introducing you to the woman as she nears, "this is our Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Emily, this is my good friend Y/N Y/L/N."

Emily is all smiles as she reaches to shake your hand. "Hi! It's nice to finally meet the girl who takes care of our boy wonder after cases."

Spencer nervously chuckles and you find yourself genuinely grinning. "It's nice to finally meet you too. I've heard some funny stories about all you guys."

"I will neither confirm nor deny any of those."

Emily then leads you towards a room where three others are waiting. "Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Friend of Spence and ex-agent of SHIELD. Y/N, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau, and our very own technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Everyone happily greets you and Jennifer even gives you the go ahead to call her JJ. You're offered a seat at their round table and you glance at their board filled with pictures of people you used to work with. Spencer sits next to you and you offer him a feeble smile when he reaches beneath the table to squeeze your knee.

"Alright, guys, I know we're all interested in the girl who lives next to Spence, but we need to get down to business." Spencer groans as his teammates all chuckle. "So Y/N, is there anything else you can give us about the victims? What exactly did they do? Did they all personally know each other or just enough because they were coworkers? Even the smallest bit of info that you think is inconsequential can help us."

"I, uh, I can do you one better," you say. You shift in your seat and reach into your front pocket, pulling out the USB stick. "Since I figure all those NDA's we signed are now null and void thanks to Agent Romanoff's data dump, and because you're Spencer's friend, I feel comfortable handing this over. It kind of made me nervous keeping it in my house anyway."

You slide the USB towards Penelope and she gasps, snatching it up and holding it as if it were the holy grail. "Is this- are these files? Because let me tell you, I tried to download those files as soon as they hit the net but there were just so many and not even our WiFi could download it fast enough before they were scrubbed clean."

You grin and nod, chuckling at Penelope's squeal. "I started collecting everyone's files that I could get my hands on. I started with the baby agents- agents whose files wouldn't toss up red flags when their files were opened. The more clearance I was granted, the more files I was able to download."

"Oh my god. Yes! You are my new favorite person." Penelope rushes around the table, bending down to kiss your cheek with a loud mwah! "Reid, keep this one. I'll be in my lair."

The group all chuckle as you blush, but then Agent Morgan is clearing his throat. "Not that I'm not grateful about what you're giving up, but isn't what you were doing illegal?"

You shrug. "It possibly was, but then Director Fury realized I was memorizing it all and didn't have a problem with it so long as those files didn't leave my office."

"But you have them on you now," Morgan says.

"Yeah. The USB was hidden within my belongings in my office. My office surprisingly survived unscathed after Captain Rogers crashed the helicarriers into the Potomac, and my stuff was packed up and shipped to me while I was in rehab."

"If you don't mind me asking," JJ wonders, "but were you at the Triskelion when HYDRA came out or..?"

"I don't mind the questions at all," you say. "It's actually quite nice to talk about it with people who aren't eyeing me suspiciously." The group flashes you small smiles. "I was actually on a consulting job with a recently formed SHIELD team whose base was a humongous plane that was constantly on the move. Anyway, one of those trusted team members ended up being HYDRA. He led a group of his men onto the plane, killed half of us to get control of it, and then locked me and two scientists into a holding pod before dropping us into the middle of the ocean."

"The drowning incident," Spencer suddenly realizes.

You smile sadly at him, nodding. "We sank to the bottom of the ocean floor. There were three of us and only one little oxygen tank." Spencer grabs your hand beneath the table and you're grateful for the grounding pressure. "We gave it to Jemma. Fitz and I were going to attempt to swim, but we didn't make it. Fitz blacked out first, then me, and then- then nothing. We woke up in a trusted SHIELD facility, and Fitz and I couldn't operate like we used to. With our brains having been deprived of oxygen, it messed us up for a while."

"Wow," Emily says. "I am so sorry."

You shrug at her with a small smile. "It was all part of the job."

"What do you do now?" Morgan asks. "I hate to say it, but with all our victims being ex-SHIELD, and you as well, we have to rule you out as-"

"I get it." You smile in reassurance at him since it kind of pained him to admit that you could be a suspect and have Spencer glare at him for even thinking it. "I'm a bouncer at a bar most nights."

Morgan chuckles. "A bouncer? You!?"

"Hey! I might not look like much, but I did train with Avengers. I could probably give you a run for your money, agent Morgan."

"Okay, okay," he muses.

"I also work as private security for Stark Industries when they throw galas. If you need the exact dates I've been working, I can get that for you."

"Please," JJ says. "Spencer's already vouched for you, but protocol and all that. You understand."

"I do. I'll just- I'll text my bosses to email my clock-ins and clock-outs."

Pulling out your phone, you immediately text your boss at the bar and Pepper Potts. You keep the explanation vague as to why you need it, but assure them it's very much needed for a case the FBI is working on. They completely understand and you even have to make Pepper swear not to get Tony involved.

The emails come in not even ten minutes later and JJ happily takes your phone to run the dates with Penelope, promising to be quick about it. You remain in your seat, watching as Morgan and Emily walk towards the board and start tossing their thoughts back and forth over what they've learned so far.

Your hands are atop the table, thumbs chipping away the already chipped nail polish you have on. The second you raise your hand with the intent of chewing on your thumb nail, Spencer catches your hand. "You okay?" He quietly asks and you stare at him. He then lets your hand go as you pull them back into your lap.

"Yeah. Just getting kind of tired. And a bit anxious. Someone's targeting ex-SHIELD agents and I- well I'm one of those people."

"No one is going to hurt you, Y/N. I promise."

You feebly smile, not taking his words to heart because you know he can't actually keep that promise. He might want to, but you know better than to take these types of promises seriously in situations such as this.

JJ reappears, a bright smile in place as she hands you your phone. "I'm pretty sure Penelope programmed her number in there."

"That's fine." You chuckle. You lay your phone on the table, giving your attention back to Emily and Morgan who's now being joined by JJ.

"Guys, Garcia is having a ball right now. There's so much information she wasn't privy to before, but I'm not sure how any of it is going to help more than Y/N already has." Emily and Morgan look at JJ, waiting for her to explain. "We already know victims weren't the best at hand-to-hand, which the unsub clearly took advantage of. But we need to know what they were presently doing and if they were checking in with anyone because there are a lot of dead ex-agents. That's not a coincidence. Either someone who's ex-SHIELD or HYDRA is picking off ex-agents one by one, or someone who has a grudge against SHIELD found a list of ex-agents and is working their way down the list."

"Where do we even start?" Morgan asks, incredulous. "SHIELD technically doesn't exist anymore and those who are operating in the shadows are nearly impossible to track down thanks to the Avengers. None of them are exactly easy to get a hold of after General Ross made it his personal mission to bring in James Buchanan Barnes for crimes HYDRA made him commit. They like working on their own."

"We'd have to jump through a bunch of hoops just to get a face to face," Emily says, sighing. "If we're lucky they'll want in on the case since it's related to SHIELD."

"Um, actually.." You nervously raise your hand, calling all attention on you. "You can bypass all those hoops."

Emily stares at you, sitting on the edge of the table as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You still have connections, don't you?" At your sheepish grin, she huffs in amusement. Every other team member straightens with hope in their expressions.

"Agent Prentiss, I am the connection." As you pick up your phone once more, JJ and Morgan step closer to the table. You scroll through your contacts, finding the one you need and tapping on it. Then putting it on speaker, you try to soothe your nerves as the ringing through the speaker seems to make the atmosphere of the room become tense.

The ringing stops as the connection is made and then, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my second favorite human on God's green Earth." You roll your eyes at the charm oozing from him. "What kind of trouble are you in now, doll?"

Emily and JJ's eyes widen, and you shake your head in amusement. "Put your boyfriend on the line, Barnes. I'm calling in a favor."

"Are you calling to finally take us up on that offer of joining us for a night?"

Everyone in the room seems to freeze, although Morgan is highly enjoying where this seems to be going. You close your eyes, scrunching up your nose. You can't believe they just heard that. "Steve really needs to put a muzzle on you."

"Well if you're into that-"

"Bucky!" You bark. "You're on speaker." Morgan finally loses the battle with his laughter and you wish you can sink into your chair. Instead you have to settle for just insanely blushing and covering your face with one hand. "I'm currently with the BAU of the FBI. They have a case that they could use some help on."

"Oh." There's a beat of silence. "Christ, Y/N. You should have stopped me sooner. Stevie's gonna lecture me again. Hold on. I'll go get him."

The line goes silent and you nervously meet Spencer's gaze. He's the only one who doesn't seem as amused which is why you don't find Bucky's greeting as funny as you normally would. Something about his expression actually makes you wish Bucky hadn't said anything.

"Y/N?"

You sit a little straighter in your seat. "Hey, Cap."

"What's going on? Buck mentioned the FBI."

"Uh yeah. I'm with Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Doctor Reid," you tell him. "They've been dealing with a case that had gone cold and well I kind of made a connection they hadn't seen before because they couldn't, and uh I'm sure they could use your help."

"What was the connection?"

You look at Emily and she nods, letting you tell him. "Steve, all the victims are ex-SHIELD. Specifically agents who wouldn't have had too much training; who couldn't hold their own without a gun in hand."

There's a sharp inhale. "What do they need?"

Emily's eyes close in relief and she holds her hand out for your phone. You happily oblige her and hand it over. "Captain Rogers, this is Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm the one in charge of my team here."

"Hello, Agent Prentiss. How can my team and I be of help?"

"Well we mainly need to pick your brains and ask some questions. We're aware that SHIELD is still operating to an extent, even if it is in the shadows, so we'd like to know if the victims were still affiliated with you. If we're dealing with someone who is or was from SHIELD or HYDRA, we'd like to have you involved since you have more experience with how they operate."

"That's fine. I'll gather my team and set up a room. Are you okay to set up base here in the Compound?"

"Yes!" JJ says, starting everyone. She clears her throat and calms herself. "Yes."

Steve chuckles. "Very well. Gather everything you need. I'll be sending a quinjet for you all since it'll be faster. Y/N knows the pick-up location."

"Thank you so much, Captain Rogers."

Emily hands you the phone and seeing that the call is still connected, you say, "Hey, Steve? Thanks for this."

"It's not a problem, sweetheart. Are you okay though? You're an ex-shield agent yourself."

"I know, but nothing has been out of the ordinary. I'm okay."

"Good. You coming too?"

"I was actually planning on going home after driving the agents to the location. I'm not an active agent anymore, bub."

"I know you're not, but with that agent neighbor of yours coming here I rather have you here as well so we can keep an eye on you." You sigh at his protectiveness. "Bring a change of clothes for a week. I'll have Nat get a hold of your boss and let him know some of what's going on so you'll have a job to go back to once all of this is over."

"You're a pain in the ass, Rogers."

Steve laughs. "See you soon, Y/L/N."

The call ends and you set your phone down. Glancing up, you smile sheepishly at the team staring at you. "So, uh, I guess I'm tagging along. Sorry about that."

Emily opens her mouth, her words getting stuck as she shakes her head in amusement. "Don't be. You got us working with the Avengers within minutes as opposed to taking hours, possibly even a day if I had to put in a request."

Morgan whistles appreciatively. "This is insane. I'm gonna give Garcia a heads up about our field trip. Expect another tag a long. I don't think she'll pass up this opportunity."

You chuckle as JJ says, "Rossi is going to be so pissed he took a vacation and missed out on working with the Avengers." Then looking at you, she adds, "Do you think Spider-Man will be there? My son absolutely loves him and I would be the coolest mom ever if I got a picture or video with him."

"I'm sure Pe- uh, I'm sure Spider-Man will make an appearance," you say. "He's always hanging around after his classes are done for the day."

JJ's eyes widen. "You totally know who he is."

"I do. And let me tell you, he absolutely adores kids. Ask and he'll happily oblige."

"Guys. Guys!" Emily says. "Case first, fangirl later."

Spencer snorts and you elbow him on reflex. He grumbles, Emily and JJ grin, and you innocently smile at Emily. "Sorry, Agent Prentiss. I'll just- I'll go sit on that couch over there so I'm not in the way."

Emily starts telling her team what needs to be done, repeating herself again when Morgan returns with a clearly excited Garcia. Morgan informs everyone he'll go gather the boxes of files while Spencer immediately sets out to disassemble the board of pictures and post-its. Garcia excitedly rushes back to her own office to pack up a few things, while Emily and JJ figure out what all they'll need to be taking with them.

To keep yourself occupied, you waste a few minutes by playing a game on your phone.

You're not sure how much time has passed, but someone hesitantly sitting next to you takes your attention off your phone. Glancing up, you see Spencer sitting there and realize everyone else has cleared out of the room. "We should be ready to head out in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Soo.. Bucky Barnes." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, and you can tell his amusement isn't exactly genuine. "He's- he's not the type of person I pictured you with if I'm being honest."

"Barnes?" You snort. "Ew. No." Spencer seems surprised by your reply. "Bucky likes to flirt with me because he knows it won't go anywhere. He's well aware of the actual person I have a crush on and he respects that. Mostly."

"O-Oh? So there is someone in the picture then?"

"Well, not really," you say. Squirming in your seat, you're not totally comfortable with the direction this talk has taken until you see you're not the only one squirming. Spencer is avoiding eye contact, but he's also clearly awaiting your answer. There's also a telltale flush up the side of his neck to the tips of his ears, and- oh. Oh. Seeing how nervous Spencer suddenly is makes you feel better. So better, in fact, that you feel you should speak up about something that you've kept secret for a while. "Well I mean I'd like there to be," you say, grinning when he freezes. "The thing is, he actually lives down the hall from me." Cue him holding his breath. "He's totally adorable, but also secretly hot which is so unfair, and he works for the FBI." Spencer's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide. You smile sheepishly and shrug. "The only downfall is that he's way too good for someone like me, so I settled for friendship."

Your heart is beating terribly fast and the only thing keeping you glued to your seat is Spencer grinning bashfully, cheeks pink. "If you ask me, I don't think he's too good at all. I-If anything, he probably thinks you were too good for him which is why he never made his own feelings known."

Relief washes over you and you laugh. "We're idiots, huh?"

Lips pressed together, he smiles wide. Then, "A little."

"Rain check on this discussion? We've got Avengers to greet and you have a case to solve."

"Of course!" Spencer hastily stands, offering you a hand up. Grinning, you take it and let him pull you to your feet while shoving your phone into your back pocket. "Wherever we're going, is it okay to leave our vehicles there?"

"Yeah. It's private property and pretty secluded. No one gets in without codes."

"Okay then. We'll swing by our building for your bag and then you can direct one of the drivers while the other follows."

"Sure. Sounds like a plan."

Because of the connection between the list of victims, you have an escort up to your apartment while you pack a bag. Emily and JJ happily accompany you, leaving Spencer to fend for himself with Morgan and Garcia.

In your apartment, the two female agents waste no time in subtly trying to figure out your exact feelings for their dear friend and you take great amusement in skirting around the answer they so desperately try to pry out of you. And it's only after your duffel is packed do you tell them you and Spencer had admitted some things to each other, but you are planning to talk about it further after their case is closed. JJ seems oddly giddy and Emily coos about their boy genius growing up. You blush, relieved that they've taken a to liking to you. Then when you get back to the vehicles, you know Spencer has been questioned as well given the smirks being sent your way.

The drive to the field isn't long and the team is impressed by the level of security for a seemingly abandoned airfield. There's an unmanned gate which you get off at to speak for voice recognition, punch in a specific code, give a hand print, and then secretly have your forefinger pricked for a blood sample. Then when the gate swings open, you quickly climb back into the car and instruct Emily towards the second gate where a guard sits. The guard greets you warmly and, after you introduce those in the vehicle with you, he assures you he knows all about the impending pick-up.

"So what exactly are we in for?" Morgan asks. You're all waiting in an opened hangar, the boxes they'd packed sitting on the ground.

"Your perceptions about them are about to be changed," you admit. "I'm sure you've all told yourselves that the Avengers are just like you and I, but you have no idea how true that it is until you meet them."

"Who is the nicest?" JJ wonders.

You take a moment to think about. "Honestly? They're all nice, but if I had to choose I'd choose Spider-Man. It's hard not to like him. The kid's a puppy."

"Who gives the best hugs?" Garcia quickly adds.

Everyone chuckles at her eagerness. "That's a tough one," you say. You ponder on it for a moment. "I say it's a tie between Steve and Thor. They hug full on, chest to chest. None of that half-assed, one arm hug nonsense."

Garcia practically swoons. "Oh to be wrapped up in those beefy Asgardian arms." You snort and shake your head in amusement.

Another twenty minutes pass and you regale Spencer and his friends about some of your work with SHIELD. But all too soon the telltale sound of a quinjet reaches your ears and when you look up you see one incoming.

"Well that was hella fast," Garcia muses when she spots the quinjet herself.

JJ grins. "Stark technology. Gotta love it."

Emily nods in agreement. "We definitely need an upgrade."

Whoever is flying the quinjet lands it with ease, and Spencer, Morgan, and JJ immediately pick up their boxes. Shouldering the strap of your duffel bag, you start heading towards the quinjet when the ramp is being lowered and the team follows a few steps behind.

Clint Barton walks off the ramp and you chuckle, hurrying your steps. Both your arms go around his neck and one of his arms wraps low around your waist. "Short stack," he says. "What trouble did you get into now?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm in trouble?" You pout as you pull back, pinching his cheek and cooing before stepping back out of range. "And what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be on the farm with those precious little heathens?"

"I was, but Laura had leftovers for Nat and Wanda. I was just dropping them off when Steve rounded up the team."

"Oh nice." Then turning around, you gesture to the BAU team. "Clint, meet Special Agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the brains of the beauty of the team Miss Penelope Garcia. Guys, meet Clint Barton formerly known as Hawkeye."

Everyone shakes hands, with the exception of Garcia who slaps his hand away and pulls him into a hug.

"Baby girl," Morgan laughs, "what are you doing?"

She squeezes a chuckling Clint before letting go, she then whirling on her own friend. "This is my first time meeting the Avengers. Do not take this from me!" Morgan's eyebrows raise in amusement, the whole team and Clint chuckling.

Then not wasting anymore time, Clint ushers everyone on board. He shows them where the boxes and your bag can be stowed before taking the pilot's seat up front, only to be joined by Morgan moments later in the co-pilot seat. You show Emily and Garcia how to buckle in, and then take your own seat between JJ and Spencer.

Clint counts down for lift off and you grip your harness as you feel the quinjet take flight. Spencer nudges you with his elbow and you glance at him, grinning to assure him you're okay. But when you can feel the quinjet picking up speed thanks to the feeling in your gut, you close your eyes and are thankful that no one brings up the fact that you're actually really nervous right now.

Your left hand is grabbed and gently pried from your grip on the harness, and your eyes fly open in surprise. You look towards your left and JJ smiles at you reassuringly as she squeezes your hand in comfort. Then when your right hand is grabbed and given the same treatment, you glance over at Spencer and can't help but blurt, "I-I've never been nervous about flying before."

"It's perfectly normal to subconsciously be nervous or anxious after we trudged up your past earlier," he says. "Just close your eyes and relax. We won't let anything happen to you."

You nod, smiling shakily and turn your head to rest it against the headrest of your seat. Then closing your eyes, you're grateful for the team not asking you anything for the duration of the ride. Instead, they save their questions for Clint who's all too happy to answer what he can.

You know the Compound's come into view when Morgan whistles in appreciation. Clint lands to quinjet with ease and then everyone's unbuckling themselves when he gives the go ahead. Before you can grab your bag, however, Spencer is grabbing it and beaming at you when you sigh with mock annoyance.

One by one the BAU team disembarks after Clint, leaving you and Spencer to bring up the rear. You hear Clint introducing everyone and notice everyone's congregated around in a circle. Then just as you and Spencer join, you notice that Garcia is petting Bucky's vibranium arm. You snort, catching an amused Steve's attention.

"Y/N," he greets.

"Steve." You step forward, briefly hugging him and then Bucky. As you step back in line, you gesture towards Spencer to introduce him. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid. Spence, this is Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes."

Steve leans in for a handshake, but then pauses mid-shake. "Wait. Spencer Reid? The Spencer Reid?" He grins. "Are you- are you and the agent neighbor one in the same?"

You sharply inhale, eyes widening when everyone turns to stare at your rapidly blushing face. Steve's grin turns rather teasing and your eyes narrow at him. "Two words; octopus dick." Steve's amusement vanishes, and everyone turns towards a now blushing Steve as Bucky guffaws. You turn your gaze on him next. "I don't know why you're laughing, dolphin boy."

Bucky immediately shuts up and Steve shakily grins before addressing the team. "Okay! Now that we've all been introduced, lets get inside before Y/N starts a war she can't finish."

Morgan and JJ are the only two to follow after Steve, Bucky, and Clint. Emily and Garcia remain with you and Spencer, and both females look to you with pleading eyes.

"Please tell me how four innocuous words got two supersoldiers to blush like that?" Garcia asks, Emily nodding along with her. "I need to know!"

"Sorry, girls," you tell them. "Those stories get out and I'm dead meat."

The both of them grumble about not getting answers, but move on without fuss. Before you can follow, however, Spencer steps closer to you. "You won't even tell me?" He asks, voice quiet.

You huff. "You already know."

Spencer's answering smile is enough to make you roll your eyes and he's quick to keep pace with you as you enter the building. There are numerous people milling about, but since it's late most of the trainees are in bed. Every piece of furniture and fixture still seems brand spanking new, so you don't blame the BAU team looking around in awe.

Heading into the chosen office, you lead Spencer inside before catching Steve's attention. "I'm gonna let you guys get to work. I'll be setting up in my room if anyone needs me."

No one objects, so after taking your bag from Spencer you take your leave. You leisurely make your way towards the living quarters of the compound and find your room with ease. Opening the door, the familiarity of it brings a tired smile to your face. The lamps have been turned on, awaiting your arrival, and even the TV has been turned on with its volume on low. The walls and bedding is the same as everyone else has, but you know it's your room because of the personal pictures on the dresser and bedside tables.

Since you're going to be staying until the case is over and then probably a couple days more after, you decide to put your clothes in the dresser rather than leave it in your bag for the entire time. After that's done and you've switched your TV to a movie you like, you pick out a standard set of black sleep pants and a blue/gray shirt that every trainee at the compound wears to bed so you can shower before crawling into bed yourself.

You're grateful for the private bathroom and even more grateful to see the products you use already waiting for you. You turn on the water to the shower, grab a towel from the bathroom closet and set it on the counter along with your change of clothes before you start to strip.

You keep your hair in a topknot as you shower since you had washed it earlier that morning, so your shower is over within ten minutes. Then by the time you're dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and your teeth are brushed, you exit the bathroom.

Stepping into your room, you startle at the sight of Spencer sitting on the small cushioned bench at the foot of your bed. He's staring up at the moving playing, the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement. But at your small gasp, he looks towards you, lips spreading into a fond smile.

"Captain Rogers said it was okay that I wait for you. I don't mean to intrude."

"Spence," you huff a laugh and then continue on towards your bed, "we have keys to each other's apartments and sometimes barge in without warning. I think you waiting in here is more than okay."

"Just needed to make sure," he says, "what with this being a new place and all."

"Mhmm." You sit on the edge of the bed that's right behind the bench, putting your feet on the cushion beside Spencer and practically hug your knees as you stare at him. "How did everyone settle in?"

"E-Everyone's good." Spencer turns sideways, grinning up at you. "We got our own rooms here so we don't have to be back and forth from a hotel. When we left, Garcia was being introduced to the holographic tables and now I don't think she's going to sleep tonight."

You chuckle. "I knew she'd fall prey to all the pretty tech here." He chuckles along with you. "And how did everyone take the news to hearing the details about the case?"

"They're taking it very personally," Spencer tells you. "Mr. Barton even asked to stay on as a consultant. He and agent Romanoff are not very happy."

"Well they might not be as smart as you, Doc, but I think they're going to be a big help. You guys will be out of here in no time with the bad guy in cuffs."

"Is that so?" He muses. You grin and nod. "And if we're out of here in no time, are we still waiting until you go home for that discussion we still need to have?"

"We can table the discussion," you say, "but I really need to do this before I chicken out."

"Do what?"

Without thinking too much more about it, you reach out to cradle Spencer's jaw in the palms of your hands. You bring his face closer to yours, pausing with barely an inch between your lips. It seems he's held his breath in surprise, but when he notices you're waiting for some sort of unspoken permission it's him who closes the gap.

There's nothing heated or rushed about the kiss- it merely being a chaste kiss of several little pecks before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. You smile, your lip popping free from where it stretches, and you giggle as he leans up to chase your lips.

"Ahem." The interruption causes you to jerk back from Spencer, eyes wide when you catch sight of Bucky leaning against your door jamb and looking quite smug. "Hope I'm not interrupting." You groan, laying your forehead on Spencer's shoulder while he quietly snorts. "So with this new development, does this mean our threesome will now be a foursome?"

You can't help but laugh and sit straight once more so you can see your friend. Unfortunately, the question actually gives you pause and there's a split second where you actually give it thought. But in the next moment your nose wrinkles and you shake your head. "What? No!"

He points at you, eyes gleaming. "You paused! You paused which means that no just turned into a maybe. I'm gonna go tell Stevie we're back in the game!"

"James!" Spencer finally laughs and you groan again when Bucky pushes off the door jamb, whistling as he walks away. "I hate my friends."

"Just wait until Morgan finds out. It'll be worse." Spencer chuckles as you sigh, and he gets up before walking around to the side of your bed. He places his palms down on the mattress, leaning over you to kiss you once more. "I'm gonna go to my room before Sergeant Barnes brings back reinforcements."

"Okay. I'll probably see you around the compound, but I'll do my best to stay out of your hair while you're looking for your unsub."

"Are we still talking after?"

"Of course. Well we can either talk or order in some Chinese and hole up in one of our apartments for a weekend. Your call."

"I like the second option," he says.

"I figured you would." You kiss him one last time and then push against his chest. "Now go. We'll figure things out soon."

#spencer reid x reader #marvel gen fic x reader #avengers imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #marvel imagine #spencer reid #steve rogers #bucky barnes #clint barton #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #fanficimagery

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theasstour · 4 years ago

Photo

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟕𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

Tuesday, 13 December 2017

Tooley Street was always busy, whether there were a horde of people walking to and from the riverside and underground, or cars driving by at a ridiculous speed. London Bridge station on the other side of the road to where Y/N and the gang sat at Caffé Nero, looked like a small insect in comparison to The Shard that reached like a pillar above the partly cloudy winter sky. The blue painted brick building beside it, The Shipwright Arms pub, was a lively addition to an otherwise very bleak street.

The winter wind by the riverside was horrendous, but Y/N had offered to come with Annalise on her cigarette break, so she had only herself to blame for exposing herself to more of the biting cold than completely necessary. From where the two were sitting, they could just make out Tower Bridge behind them, bare trees rising up along the streets that indicated summer was long gone and winter had arrived.

Y/N had spent a lot of time just sitting outside the last few days. Whether it was on a bench by Regent’s Canal, in the grass at Shoreditch Park, or at a table outside a café with a coffee in hand. She had just been sitting there, staring out at nothing. Thinking. All she had been doing since finding that watch was think.

She had tried to find some kind of logical explanation as to why that watch had the coordinates for her family’s Newport cabin, but there was none. What kind of connection did George have to Newport? To that cabin? Had he just fucked her and left it there because he knew who Y/N’s sister was? And where was George now? She had not seen him since that night in October, was he still around? Or had Y/N just missed him when he had been, and this had all just been a huge coincidence. But Y/N somehow knew, deep down, that this was far from a coincidence and she should not treat it as one.

“You have to come to Monnickendam,” Annalise said, blowing out a puff of white smoke.

Y/N looked away from a man across the street who was arguing passionately with someone on his phone. Shoving the thoughts of the watch that was laid on her desk in her room, out of her head. She had not told anyone about it, this was not something she wanted everyone to know about because she had no idea what it meant. The only person that knew was Harry, and she would like to keep it that way.

“I’ve never been to the Netherlands,” Y/N said.

“Even more of a reason to come.”

Y/N smiled. “Buzzing. I haven’t travelled much in Europe, mostly been to Brazil with my family.”

“When you come to Monnickendam, we have to take the train to, like, Germany or France. Andorra is also so beautiful, I think you’re gonna love it.”

“Make a roadtrip out of it.”

“Exactly.”

Y/N’s smile grew. “Had you been to London before you came here for school?”

Annalise brought the cigarette up to her mouth. “Loads of times.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we went here around Easter in 2012 the first time, and I fell in love. Went here four more times, then to an Open Day last year.”

Y/N nodded. “Was Helmond your first choice then? Did you like it the best?”

“No, Battersea was, but I’m happy I ended up at Helmond.” Annalise breathed out white vapour. “Helmond’s prettier.”

Y/N laughed. “The aesthetic is more important than the uni itself, innit? If you can’t take decent Instagram pictures there, what’s the point of spending the next three years at that place?”

Annalise laughed along with Y/N, taking a last drag. “I rarely use Instagram.”

“I used to. I loved to like document my life, to let all my friends and family know what I was doing at all times. But then I found Snapchat, and it’s just better.”

“You know that if you, like, save a picture or video in the Snapchat app, Snapchat owns it?”

Y/N blinked.

“At least what someone at home told me once.”

“Doesn’t Instagram do the same?” Y/N asked.

“Think so,” Annalise said, walking over to the litter and stumping her cigarette out in the ash tray on top of it. “Ground rule: don’t save anything onto social media. Anyone can save and see your pictures.”

“Basically,” Y/N mumbled, looking over at the man she had watched earlier. He was still arguing with someone over the phone.

“Ready to head back inside?” Annalise asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N got up and the two strolled back over to the Caffé Nero their three other mates were sat in. Thian, Hayden, and Chloe were all sat with their laptops in front of them and books in the centre of the table behind their screens. Chloe was talking animatedly as Y/N and Annalise approached, Hayden busy with something on the laptop in front of them while Thian sat with a book in his hands, looking at Chloe as she spoke. Y/N took off her puffer jacket, hanging it off the back of her chair as she sat down, adjusting her black V-neck jumper and loose denim jeans.

“…the problem isn’t that. The problem is the fact that they never clean up after themselves. That’s the problem,” Chloe said, groaning loudly. “And when I ask in the flat groupchat if anyone wanna be social, no one answers. I swear, all of them hate me.”

“Maybe they’re just busy,” Thian suggested.

“They always say that, but I know two of the boys are in Dave’s room playing something on that PlayStation.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. “Should I learn how to play FIFA?”

“You don’t have to impress them,” Y/N said, turning her laptop back on to finish the essay for Critical Reading that was due that Friday.

“No, I know. But if I want to hang out with anyone in my flat, I gotta do something. What games do you play in the PlayStation, Thian?”

Thian stared at Chloe for a second, mouth working before he mumbled, “I didn’t bring one to uni.”

“Alright, then what did you play at home?”

“Call of Duty.”

Chloe scrunched up her nose. “Isn’t that a war game?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I’m not into that.” Chloe grimaced, looking at something further away. “I’ve never really played PlayStation. One of the blokes I dated in college gamed a lot, but I couldn’t be asked to sit around and just watch.”

“The three in my flat play GTA,” Y/N said. “At least that’s what Nathan wants to play, Harry and Mason just go along.”

Chloe’s face instantly lit up. “Oh, my word, Y/N. You have to make Harry teach me how to play something on the PlayStation.”

There was a slight pang in Y/N’s chest at the sound of his name leaving Chloe’s lips in that way. Y/N opened, then closed her mouth, then opened it again. “I don’t really hang out with them when they play it. I’ve had so much to do these past months.”

“That’s fine, Nathan can keep us company,” Chloe said, leaning back in her seat. “Make Mason come, too. God-“ She grinned, letting her head fall between her shoulder blades. “-Your flatmates are fit.”

“Harry’s fitter than Mason,” Hayden chimed in.

“No, definitely Mason,” Annalise said.

“I can’t choose. Depends on my mood,” Chloe mused.

Thian kept quiet, staring pointedly at his laptop.

“Can you do it? Make them teach me?” Chloe begged, sticking her bottom lip out at Y/N.

Y/N took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

Chloe grinned.

“They might be busy, too. Might not get to it till after Christmas break.”

Chloe waved her hand. “That’s fine. I just want to hang out with someone from my flat eventually.”

Y/N glanced down at her laptop again, trying to forget the conversation she had just had with the other three. Chloe continued chattering on about something of no significance, Y/N did not care to listen as she wanted to finish her essay before she had to leave for home coming Saturday. Though her coffee was cold now as she took a sip of it, Y/N still appreciated the taste of caffeine. It woke her up, made her more alert and focused.

Ever since she was seven years old, her papai had made her coffee to drink. He always said “coffee is as vital to a Brazilian’s existence as tea is to a Brit’s” and she had drunk it ever since. She loved the taste of it much more than tea, but seeing as tea was much easier to make, she had come to resort to it here in London. Home in Nottingham, there was always a brew in the making or one ready for whoever felt like having a cup, made with a proper coffee machine that Davi had invested proper money in. He had bought it back in 2001, and it worked just as well as it did back then. Y/N, like her papai, loved the coffee from that old coffee maker more than anything else. She could not wait until she was home with her parents so she could drink proper coffee all the time without going to the nearest coffee shop to do so. The instant coffee Nathan often made smelled and tasted rank, Y/N would have no other coffee than her papai’s and a cup made at a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna go buy a muff,” Hayden said, getting up from their chair. “This essay is doing my head in, I need something to sooth the pain.”

“Oh, could you buy me a scone?” Thian asked, putting his hands together as if he was begging on his knees. “I’ll pay with five stellar knock knock jokes.”

“Make it six.”

“Deal.”

The two shook hands and Hayden grinned as they looked at the other three. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Y/N and Annalise chuckled. “No thanks,” Y/N said, Annalise saying the same thing.

“No, I’ll just add to this,” Chloe said, patting at her stomach.

“Add to what?” Hayden asked.

“A belly.” Chloe gripped the little that was protruding from her tight denim jeans. “I’m trying to start working out for bikini season, to remove that extra uni weight, you know?”

Hayden looked absolutely lost, so did Thian, and Annalise looked to not be paying any attention at all. Y/N, however, felt a familiar pang in her chest. It was a small explosion she had felt before, one that would taint the rest of her day. Instinctively, she put her scarf around her chest, letting it fall over her stomach.

Hayden did not comment, instead they just walked up to the till, ready to tell the lady working there their order. The table fell silent, but not for the reason Y/N wanted it to. No, they were all just busy with their essays. Y/N knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate on the assignment now that the only thing she would be thinking about for the rest of the day was Chloe’s comment. Chancing a look over at her friend, she saw her flicking through a book in her lap, completely unbothered, Annalise was cocking her head to the side as she wrote something on her Mac, while Thian was watching Hayden pay for their food. None of them had batted an eyelash. Which was nothing new, Y/N was used to no one picking up on covered up fatphobic comments.

She knew that Chloe had not said those things with her in mind, that the statement had been about her own body only. But Y/N could not help but feel the comment in her very soul. She could remember her mates from school in Nottingham making comments similar to that one, so hearing it wasn’t alien, but it stung as much as hearing it that first time.

“Here we go,” Hayden said, putting the scone down on Thian’s keyboard.

“Scones are so bloody good,” Thian moaned, taking a huge bite out of his. “If we had to fuck a food, I’d fuck scones.”

The table went quiet, all looking at Thian. He just continued on eating, humming some Alesso and Conor Maynard song that was always playing on the radio.

“Why did you just say that?” Hayden asked.

“Felt like sharing my thoughts with the class.”

Hayden raised their eyebrows before looking at the laptop in front of them. “The class did not need to know.”

Thian shrugged his shoulders and Annalise laughed, Chloe joining in after a little while. Y/N smiled at them, but her thoughts still drifted back to Chloe’s comments just a minute earlier. She spread her scarf out over her stomach, wishing she had worn something that wasn’t so tight fitted.

Friday, 15 December 2017

“Sorry we’re late,” Mason said as him and the rest of the rugby team streamed into the seminar room. Hayden, Y/N, Thian, Chloe, Annalise, Nathan, and Annalise’s two friends were all sat around one table, already having started a round of Uno.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Hayden smiled. “I’ve put Uno decks on the other tables.”

“Cheers.”

Mason and the rest of the team sat down, all chatting amongst themselves and letting go of heavy sighs as they took their seats. It was clear that the last training session for the team this year had not only been cold, but also immensely tiring. They all looked very ready to travel home for Christmas break, and it looked like a few already had.

Y/N felt their struggle with the cold. She herself was wearing a mini linen skater dress in black. The skirt was loose, making it comfortable to hide her belly in – she had not stopped thinking about Chloe’s comment all week, but it would not stop her from looking really fucking good – and the waist was open, baring some of her skin and rib tattoo to everyone. Her skin protruded around the straps that were wrapped around her waist, connecting her skirt from her top, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she just tried to stay out of Chloe’s vision. The plunge neck revealed a very deep cleavage and skin, making it so Y/N had put on two silver necklaces to top of the outfit. The rest of the top had long sleeves and a nice collar, which was why Y/N had bought the dress. It was slutty, but in a modest way.

The rest of the gang around the table had also dressed up, ready to go out after this. They all had their last lecture of the semester today, meaning that their Christmas break had just started, and they wanted to celebrate before everyone travelled to their separate locations the next day. Chloe to Oxford, Thian to Bristol, Hayden to Sheffield, Annalise to Monnickendam, and Y/N back home to Nottingham. It would be weird not to meet up with them, to not go to lectures and stress about assignments for the next month. Then again, Annalise had made a Snapchat and Messenger group to ensure that the gang would talk every single day. And knowing her mates, Y/N was sure they would.

During a break between rounds, Y/N got up from their table after making sure that her polyamide shorts underneath her dress didn’t roll down her stomach. She wore them to prevent chafing, knowing that if she did not wear them underneath her skirt, it would be hard for her to wear anything the next day. She did the zip of her chunky sock boots before making her way over to Mason’s table.

“Alright, Y/N?” Mason said as she came closer, giving her a small smile.

“How’re you lot finding the society?” she asked, looking around the table, meeting Kai’s eyes.

Kai beamed. “Good, it’s nice to spend some time with the whole team off the rugby pitch.”

“You’re dressed up,” Mason pointed out. “What’s the occasion?”

“Uno Society.”

Mason smiled. “Trying to pull some rugby players, are ya?”

“No. No, rugby players.”

Mason only raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe her, smile widening.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re just as unbearable as Harry sometimes.”

“Nah, Harry’s worse than me.”

“Right.” Y/N took a big breath. “Chloe over there, the blonde,” Y/N said, motioning behind her with a nod of her head. Mason’s gaze immediately fell on Chloe. “She’s wondering if you and Harry can teach her how to play the PlayStation.”

Mason blinked, looking over at Kai as the bigger man clapped his hands together before laughing.

“Is that funny?” Y/N asked.

“No, it’s not. I just knew Kai would react like that,” Mason said. “But I’ll do it. After Christmas at some point.”

“Nice, I’ll tell her that, then.”

“Why does she need someone to teach her how to play PlayStation?” Kai asked, and though there was laughter in his voice, Y/N could tell his question was sincere.

“Some blokes in her flat never want to be social, they just stay in this one room playing PlayStation, and she’s kinda left out ‘cause she doesn’t really know how to play.”

“That might not work out,” Kai said, smiling still.

“Worth a shot, either way.”

“Maybe she just wanna spend time with this hunk,” Kai grinned, putting a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Or the other hunk that’s not here.”

“Speaking of him,” Y/N said, putting a hand on her hip. “Not that I care, but where is he?”

Kai grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t care? Not at all?”

“No, Y/N doesn’t like Harry much,” Mason explained, completely unbothered. “He’s working. The team’s popping by The Stag’s Head later to check on him since it’s his last shift and all that.”

Y/N nodded, suddenly remembering how Harry had told her that a few weeks ago.

“What’s the bellend done to you?” Kai asked.

“Another time, Kai. We’re in the middle of a round,” Mason said. “I’ll find a day that’s good for Chloe to come over.”

“Wicked,” Y/N smiled. “See ya.”

“Later, mate.”

Y/N walked back to her table, sitting down in her seat again. “Sorry,” she said when Hayden gave her a look. “Chloe, Mason said he could teach you how to play PlayStation sometime after Christmas break.”

Chloe squealed. “Really?!”

“Yeah, he’ll text me saying when.”

“Ahh! Buzzing!”

Y/N gave her a smile before the gang went back to playing.

Though she was physically present over the next hour or so, Y/N’s mind travelled back to the flat and the watch on her desk. Besides assignments, Christmas, and what Chloe said on Tuesday, that was all Y/N had spent her time thinking about. She would be in bed, about to go to sleep, then just get out of her bed and look at the watch, study it carefully. Maybe there was another message of sorts on it, maybe she was supposed to do something with it. But other days she did not want to touch that watch. There was something about it, something about how it had just been left in her possession so casually, something about the fact that she had not seen George since that night, that did not sit right with Y/N at all.

Throughout the rest of the night, after the Uno Society, while the gang was sat at a pub, and then dancing at a club later, Y/N could not bring herself to enjoy herself thoroughly. All her energy went back to that watch. She wanted to understand what it meant, why George had it, and what she was supposed to do with the information. Was she even supposed to do anything at all? It only made her want to travel down to Newport even more. She had to now. Her parents might think about getting rid of that cabin, but Y/N had to revisit it one last time before that happened.

Y/N did not drink that night; she was afraid of the conspiracy theories she would form if she did. She had one cocktail at the pub they went to, but could not do more than that, and her mates did not ask questions as to why she was not drinking, something she really appreciated. It was late when she announced she would be going home, and so she called Nathan and made him stay on the line with her as she took the tube back to Haggerston Station. Once she reached Orsman Road, she could hear his snores on the other end, and hung up halfway down the road to the flat. However, in the distance, she saw a stag’s head sign hanging out on a metal pole, protruding from the building opposite her flat building. She suddenly remembered what Mason said, and crossed the road, making her way over to the pub.

A small group of lads made their way out of the pub as Y/N reached it, the last one holding the door for her. She smiled and thanked him before walking inside. Now that she wasn’t affected by alcohol, Y/N was finally able to take in the pub properly without having the slight haze of alcohol taint it. The lights were comfortably dimmed, not too much so you could not read the menu, but just enough so that a person’s facial features would be a tad blurry. The red that ran along the wall behind the dark bar counter was subtle, giving the bar a sense of holding onto the secrets of each person who walked through the front doors, like a Victorian murder mystery. Y/N could see Sweeney Todd’s barber shop trapped in the same colours.

“Excuse me, miss,” a man walking out from behind the counter said, grey hair and broad shoulders. “We’re closed.”

“Oh,” she said, looking around the dark pub. “I… I thought I might find Harry here.”

The man narrowed his eyes a little. “He’s got a new girlfriend? So soon after the other ones?”

Y/N felt herself narrow her eyes back at the man. Girlfriend? Harry’s had girlfriends – plural – since he started working in The Stag’s Head? There was a very strange combination of a lot of different feelings that swarmed around Y/N’s body, suddenly making her feel seasick. She was about to abort her mission, to say she would just catch Harry at home, when there came a voice from the door leading out into the smoking area.

“Y/N,” Harry said, turning the lights off outside and closing the door. It looked as if he could not quite believe his eyes as he saw her standing there, like he had not thought she would ever show up to his work like this. Without seemingly able to help himself, his green eyes fell down to her green dress and her exposed legs. He quickly looked to his other co-worker, clearing his throat as he walked behind the pub counter. Y/N could swear she saw a slight pink hue to his cheekbones.

“I’ll leave if you’re busy.”

“No,” Harry said, the word coming out a little too quickly as if desperation got the better of him. “No. Not busy.”

The grey-haired man raised his eyebrows at Harry. He must have seen something in Harry’s demeanour, because he said, “You’ll be alright to close up on your own?”

Harry smiled. “It’ll be a nice way to end my time at Stag’s Head.”

“Nice,” the man Y/N now suspected was Harry’s boss, said. “Pop by with the keys tomorrow, will ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man gave both Harry and Y/N a smile each before he started on his walk up to his office. The pub was suddenly very quiet, not a single sound came from inside, just the distant siren outside and the low buzz of the city. A place that was usually bustling with noise, energy, and anticipation, was now left with the latter. Y/N looked around the place, unsure of what to do with herself now that it was only her and Harry there. Harry watched her, picking up the Cif spray from where it stood under the counter. She felt his gaze on her as she walked along the booths, touching the red velvet cushions, a rush of goosebumps travelling up her spine at the knowledge that she had his full attention.

She turned around, leaning her bum against a table as she took in the liquor behind Harry. He was washing the counter, looking over at Y/N again, eyes falling to her mid-area that was expanded slightly at the pressure the surface behind her was providing. He quickly looked away again, biting his lips together as he focused on the counter in front of him. Y/N could not help a small smile.

“What made you show up to my work, then?” he asked.

“Can’t a friend show up to another friend’s work?”

Harry let out a strangled chuckle. “Alright. That’s very nice of you, but I don’t buy that for a single second.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“There’s gotta have been another reason as to why.”

“Okay…? What’s that?”

Harry shrugged his shoulder, spraying more Cif onto the counter. “You were bored. You didn’t want to be around your other mates any longer. You wanted to see a delicious man with an irresistible Northern accent clean up a pub since it’s his last shift ever here tonight.”

Y/N let out a laugh, placing her hands on either side of the table beside her. “None of the above.”

“Alright,” Harry said, coming out from behind the pub. “What didn’t I cover?”

“You weren’t at the Uno Society meeting.”

The answer came so effortlessly, as if her subconscious had been holding onto the answer for Y/N until she was strong enough to know the real reason. Her hands instantly gripped the table harder, feeling embarrassed for admitting vulnerability so easily. She blamed how easy it was to talk to him, how he just seemed to throw a lasso around her deepest secrets, her most private desires, and drag them out of her.

Harry looked over at her from where he was cleaning the tables a bit further away in the pub. “Had work. Would’ve been there if I didn’t have to be here.”

She nodded, looking down at her black boots. For some reason, his words warmed something inside her. Hearing someone care about something she cared about made her feel special. Then again, someone she just met on the street could tell her they hated Marmite, something Y/N also did, and she would feel equally as fuzzy inside. Finding small bonds, small preferences, small somethings that connected you to other people, made you feel like you weren’t alone, but it also made you feel special, made you feel seen and understood. It was as if someone opened a door into their soul, and giving you a warm handshake, welcoming you into them and their life.

“The lads had a blast,” Harry said, now closer to Y/N as she had zoned out for a minute and some.

“They did?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to just sit down and relax like that. We don’t really get to do that.”

Y/N watched as Harry hovered by a table, leaning over it to clean it. His black tee shirt stretched over his broad back, his shoulder blades visibly working as he ran the cloth over the table in front of him. The outline of his muscles, the way they were so hard against the soft fabric of the tee shirt, made Y/N’s body feel very hot all of a sudden. He worked so carefully, sliding his hand holding the cloth so slowly over the table, paying it his undivided attention. She adjusted her position against her table, looking away from Harry as he stood back up, his black trousers that had been tight around his buttocks, slacking at the lack of pressure on the material. Get a fucking grip, Y/N screamed at herself in her head, focusing on the wall in front of her. She saw Harry look at her over his shoulder, gaze lingering on her for a few seconds. Y/N suddenly found it very hard to draw a proper breath.

“You’re mad I didn’t show up?” Harry asked.

Y/N was silent, her brain completely blank. “Didn’t show up…?”

She could see his smug smile in her peripheral vision. “Yeah.”

“To what?”

His smile widened and he focused on a table closer to her. “The Uno Society.”

She closed her eyes. Her checking out Harry while he had his back to her had not just made her forget the whole reason why she had showed up to The Stag’s Head in the first place. His body looking the way it did, him caring about the society, him teasing her to get a reaction out of her… Why the fuck did he have that effect on her?

“No,” Y/N said, refusing to look at him still. “I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you look at me right now?”

Y/N could feel her hands instinctively grabbing harder onto the table behind her. “No reason.”

“You know,” Harry started, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You can try all you want, but I still know you.”

She huffed. “You wish.”

“I don’t gotta,” he said, chuckling a little. “Don’t gotta wish when I already do know you. Wish I knew you better, wish you’d just open up to me like you did so easily before, but that’s for a later time.”

That made her look over at Harry, her eyebrows drawn together as she just watched him clean yet another table. He… Did he really think she would one day open up to him again and they would go back to being friends like they used to? Was he really that optimistic? Had he thought about it? About them and their friendship? And what a future with her alongside him at uni would look like? Her eyes landed on his bicep as it flexed, holding his body weight as he leaned against the table again. Her gaze following his arm all the way down to his hand, long slender fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, and the thick veins over the dorsal part of his hand made something in Y/N’s brain short circuit. That along with the casual way he was leaning his hips against the table, staring down at it with his head cocked.

What the fuck, Y/N said to herself again, looking away from him. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?! How was she supposed to stay neutral, to not find him attractive, to not want to sink right back into old habits when she allowed herself to study him and look at him like that. She had to stop. This was getting out of hand.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” Harry said, working slowly as he cleaned up the table in the booth beside the one she was stood leaning against.

“No, I’ve just got things on my mind.”

“What things?”

Your broad shoulders. Your hands. The way you stick your tongue out of your mouth when you are concentrating. But Y/N said none of those things, as doing so would sentence her to a lifetime of humiliation.

“Insignificant things.”

“When they’re taking up a lot of space in your head and preventing you from being present, they’re not insignificant,” Harry said, sounding a little serious all of a sudden. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing inherently bad on my mind, just… I’ve got a lot of… thoughts,” Y/N said, not knowing how else to explain it without giving something away.

“What thoughts?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Thought you did Architectural Studies, didn’t know you also had a degree in being Nosy.”

Harry let out a laugh, coming to stand in front of her with the spray and the cloth in his hands. “I’m very nosy.”

“Glad to hear you’re self-aware.”

“But right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Bloody hell, Y/N thought, could he just fucking stop being so nice? So fucking adorable? And fit? It made hating him so much harder than it already was.

“I’m okay.”

He took a step closer. “What’s been on your mind then?”

“Just… life.”

“Has uni exhausted you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not what I’m thinking about.”

Harry took another step closer. Y/N’s palms were suddenly very clammy.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked again, a small smile on his lips as if he was challenging her.

“Maybe you just have to face the fact that I won’t tell you and you can’t figure it out on your own.”

“Nah,” Harry said. “I’ll figure you out.”

Y/N watched as Harry took another step closer, her heart suddenly beating very fast inside her chest.

“I just gotta…” He trailed off, now standing directly in front of her. Tip of his shoes against the tip of hers. Without a warning of sorts, he leaned closer, bending over her until his head hovered beside her own. Chest wavering above hers, touching as she drew in a precipitous breath and he did the same. Their bodies did not brush against one another again, an invisible, burning shield was built to keep them apart the second their upper bodies made contact. As if the universe was telling them that by touching like that, the world would go up in total flames around them.

Harry’s sudden closeness made her breathe in a little too harshly, she was sure he must have heard it but she simply did not care. The reaction her body was having to him being so close was electric, it made all the hairs on her body stand on end. She didn’t know what he was doing that close to her, thinking at first that he must have wanted to whisper something in her ear, to say something to her that would undoubtedly make her glad she was leaning against something solid for support.

But she heard the familiar sound of the Cif spray, and a second later, Harry reached his cloth behind Y/N’s back, cleaning the table. She felt his breath against her neck, triggering something radioactive inside her. The oud aroma of his cologne, with notes of cedar, patchouli, and spicy saffron filled Y/N’s nostrils. In those seconds when Harry hovered above her like that, his warm body inches from hers, breath fanning against her skin, his aroma, and aura mere inches from hers, Y/N was conflicted as to if she wanted time to speed up or slow down some more. She knew that if she stayed like that, with Harry so close to her, for much longer she would go absolutely mad and have an impossible time resisting him if he were to try something like he had done in the living room the week before.

No sooner had she thought that, he pushed off, face lingering just centimetres from hers. “I just need to take a look,” he said, speaking as if he did not mind if the whole world was watching them. He raised his hand, about to touch her chin. For what reason, Y/N did not know, but she didn’t ask any questions. However, he stopped, as if touching her was something he could not do. Y/N was glad he hadn’t, because God knows how her body would have reacted had he tenderly touched her jawline like it looked like he wanted to.

“Take a look?” Y/N mumbled.

“At you.”

A small breath left her lips.

“Maybe the answer to what’s been on your mind is somewhere in your eyes,” he said, eyes suddenly falling to her lips. “Or your lips.” He glanced at her forehead. “Or in the slight lines that appear between your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought.” He looked down at her hands on the table edge. “Or the way you’re gripping the table so tight right now.”

Jesus Christ, she was about to explode. Y/N let go of it immediately, standing up and forcing Harry to take two steps back. His intense glance lingered on her, falling to her lips as she opened her mouth to take a breath.

“It’s getting late,” she said, fingering the hem of her leather jacket as her heart continued to hammer away inside her chest.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Harry walked over to the next table to clean it, doing it way faster than all the other ones. Biting his lip and moving his hand with the cloth over the table as if to make up for time spent on something else, cleaning very slowly and standing too close to her.

“No, I can walk home by myself.”

“I know you’re capable of walking, but I don’t like you being out in the streets all alone late at night.”

Y/N looked over at Harry as he cleaned the last booth, seeing the determination to finish as quickly as possible.

“It’s just across the road,” she said.

“Please just let me walk you across the road, then.” Harry walked behind the bar counter, putting the cleaning supplies away.

“You make me sound like an old lady.”

“Just-“ He appeared from behind the counter. “-Wait.” He then disappeared into the backroom where he only stayed for a few seconds. Y/N would have thought that since he enjoyed working at The Stag’s Head, he would have at least lingered for a few moments to take in the last time he would ever be back there. But instead, he emerged wearing his coat, locking the door behind him, mere seconds later. He turned the lights off, and, walking over to where Y/N was standing, placed a gentle hand to her lower back, guiding her in the direction of the door that she could only barely make out in the dark. Goosebumps instantly ran up Y/N’s back and she inhaled at the pressure of Harry’s hand on her body. He held the door open for her and Y/N stepped outside, watching as Harry locked the front doors to The Stag’s Head for the very last time.

He looked around them after locking the door, checking up and down the three streets that came to a crossroad just outside the pub. Once his eyes finally met Y/N’s again he gave her the smallest smile, then motioned for her to lead the way back to their flat. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not find it in herself to do just that in that moment. Though it was just across the road, she very much appreciated Harry’s company back to their flat. Distance was nothing when the roads were dark and the faces of the figures walking past were left blurred by the dim streetlamps.

Harry held the door for Y/N once again, letting her be the first to enter the building. She strolled upstairs, unlocking their front door and watching as Harry gestured for her to walk on inside. The flat was dark, except for the warm yellow lights Nathan had twined around the railing of their terrace and the changing colours of the luminous Christmas tree in the living room. The kitchen was usually left in darkness, as was the rest of the flat, but since their eyes were used to night outside, it wasn’t hard to navigate their way to the stairs. They took their jackets off, and without her leather jacket on, Y/N was very aware of how much of her skin was exposed to Harry. Her dress showed off her legs, arms, and parts of her back to him, and she knew that, if he walked behind her up the stairs, he would get a good look at her bum.

She took her boots off and started up the stairs with her purse in her hand, hearing Harry make his way up them as well. If any man were to walk behind her up the stairs, Harry was one she trusted not to take the mick, to not look up her skirt and make her feel uncomfortable. But… after everything… she still didn’t want him to see her knickers. However, facing her door, she heard Harry walking up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him once he reached the first floor. What happened next happened so suddenly that Y/N barely managed to wrap her head around it before the moment was gone.

She had just turned around to face Harry when he walked up over to her. Taking a step back at the sudden closeness, she felt herself breathe in sharply as Harry’s face lingered only centimetres from her own again. Though the person standing in front of her was a man, a completely different person, something inside her brain took her back to that night when they were 16. He hadn’t been this close to her since then, had not touched her or looked at her like this since then. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and then to meet hers, wet lips parting as if the anticipation was killing him.

And Y/N had to painfully admit, it was killing her, too. As much as she had tried to fight it, it was impossible to now. She wanted Harry to kiss her. Not tenderly kiss her like you would peck a person you were in love with, or to gently rub his thumb over her cheek as a show of affection, or to hug her tight when they met up for lunch. No, she wanted him to fucking kiss her. She wanted him to grab her face and kiss her hard; desperately, needily. She wanted them to fumble to take each other’s clothes off, and for him to make up for how bad that first time together was. There was absolutely no denying it, Y/N wanted Harry. She really wanted him. All these months, all those moments spent trying to push the thought away, she simply could not anymore. There was a hunger inside her for him, but only in the sexual sense. She could never fall in love with this man, she just wanted to fuck him. And she wanted to fuck him bad.

Her own lips parted, and she looked into his eyes with an expression she hoped he could read, because she needed him to understand. Once again, Harry raised his hand, hovering between them as if he were unsure what to do with it. Fingers twitching, she could see he was conflicted, whether he should touch her cheek as it looked like he wanted to, or if he should stop himself. Y/N let her eyes fall to his hand, to tell him she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel him somewhere, anywhere on her. Just looking at him, she could see he wanted the same as her. He wanted to feel her body, to explore it in a completely different way to last time.

Harry’s hand fell out of view, and just as Y/N thought he was going to let it hang limply, uselessly, at his side, she felt something on her waist. A warm pressure, snaking around the black linen of her dress. She waited for him to pull her closer to him, for their torsos to connect, but it never happened.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, eyes falling to her lips again.

She did not answer, instead just tilted her head so it would be easier for him to kiss her. With her eyelids hanging low over her eyes, her body language not showing any sign of protesting, and with her lips parted, Y/N hoped the message was coming across clearly. Harry leaned in closer, his nose almost touching hers. Her heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt. Her hands were clammy. All her attention focused on Harry and the electricity they created on that spot where his hand rested. He leaned down, lips hovering just over the crook of her neck, making her close her eyes. Breath against the hair of her shoulder, lightning shooting up Y/N’s back. He slowly leaned back out again, nose hovering beside hers. The anticipation was absolutely killing her.

“I…” But he drifted off, eyes falling to her lips again. She could feel his breath on her mouth, could smell his cologne. The tension was making her dizzy, she just wanted him to bloody kiss her already.

She was just about to do it herself when she felt his warm hand drop off her waist. She blinked, and the next second, Harry took a step back. He only looked at her, mouth working as if he was trying to find the right words to say, but there were none. So, as if blinking himself awake from a sort of dream, he took another step back. Suddenly, he opened the door into his room. He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Y/N. Again, he tried to say something that must have died on the tip of his tongue, because again, he did not utter a word. It looked like he physically could not say them out loud. Instead, he closed the door, leaving Y/N standing alone out in the dark hallway.

Y/N’s eyes rested on the door to the bathroom, trying to go over in her head where it had just happened. Had… Had Harry just walked away just now? Had he teased her in the pub, then done almost the same just now, only to walk away? What had gone wrong? Why had he not kissed her? What had made him step away? What had made him stop? Y/N could not answer a single one of the questions, and she doubted Harry would give her any. She closed her eyes, resting her head against her door behind her. This was exactly why she had not wanted to live with Harry, this was why she had not given in to his charms and flirts before. Now, because of what had just happened, because of how awkward that had just been, they were back to square one. Just living under the same roof as him infuriated her. She could not fucking stand Harry Styles.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 4th April, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

Text

𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉

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𝐵𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹: imagine-all-the-fandoms said:

Hey you 💕 I’m so in love with your imagines, you’re a great writer! I hope it’s okay to send smth in as well ☺️ a Bucky one for where you’re crushing each other and head to a mission together in the snowy mountains where you get trapped by a storm in a cute cabin. First he’s all shy around you but in the end it’s all cute as he makes a little fire and shares his clothes to keep you warm which also leads to cuddling and finally sharing a kiss and even some loving smut when you finally admit your feelings ?

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Smut, 18+, Fluff, friends to lovers, shy Bucky, fluff, did I mention fluff? Plant stuff? you’re kinda like that bitch from sky high lol

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒: this is too cute and I had so much writing this, i feel it radiates like huge cottage core energy but in the snow XD anyways hope you like it bug and thanks for the request!!

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You were walking from the greenhouse/garden room holding a small plant when you bumped into a much larger figure, accidentally dropping said plant.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the voice said.

“It’s ok. I’m sorr-” you stopped.

The person was Bucky and under his big black boot was your little baby plant that you were taking to your room to nurse. You stared at him with a shocked and upset look on your face and Bucky stepped back to see the poor plant squished on the floor.

Wanda was a bystander and rushed over to help clean up. She used her powers and mended the plant pot back together but the poor bud was still wilted.

“Are you guys ok?” Wanda asked, handing you the pot with the wilted plant.

“You squished my plant,” you said monotonously.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, panicked.

You playfully shook your head in disappointment trying your hardest to burst into giggles. It was ok because it’s what you do. You did… plant stuff. You weren’t exactly sure what your abilities were but you did know that you worked with plants very well.

You looked down at the bud and softly blew. Sage green magic circled the plant and life went back into the little sprout. Bucky’s panicked expression softened as he watched you use your magic. The way you smiled when the plant came back to life. That proud smile you had on made him smile too.

“There. All better,” you looked back Bucky.

“All better,” he repeated with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n. Bucky,” Steve called you from down the hall.

“What’s up?”

“Fury needs you two in the conference room, says he’s got a mission for you two,” Steve walked away after he informed you both.

“Lead the way darling,” Bucky gestured his hand forward.

“Ah, you’re here. Why do you have a plant in your hand?”

“Bucky squished my flower under his boot,” you said.

“It was an accident,” Bucky mumbled.

“Moving on. I have a mission for you both in the alps. Some thugs are trading alien plant life so I need you,” he pointed to you, “to collect some samples for Tony and Bruce and Bucky will be there to protect you. If any plants die or get frozen you know what to do.”

You were plenty capable to handle yourself but you’ve never had to do so in the snow. You generally stuck to warmer and sunnier places when it came to missions. Bucky was pretty used to the snow so he knows to survive better in case you get stuck; but that won’t happen obviously.

“Wheels up in 30.”

You got to hide out and you were sort of struggling considering you had maybe seven layers of clothes on. You felt like a big puffy marshmallow waddling your way to the crime scene. The mission was somewhat successful, Bucky had really done all the work fighting and you just ran around tying up bad guys with vines and holding little seedlings in your pockets.

All was going until it didn’t. The wind picked up quickly and snow started thrashing around you and the others. You were fighting on the side of a hill, well Bucky was. You were still running around trying not to get shot. There was rumbling and the ground shook under you. You looked at Bucky who had taken down someone and his face held fear and concern.

“Run!” he yelled.

“Where!” you started running anyhow.

“Follow me, doll!”

You tried your best to run through heavy snow and with many many layers of clothes on you but it was becoming a struggle. Especially running against the wind made it a challenge on its own. Bucky was far ahead of you but thankfully turned back to grab your hand effectively dragging you alongside him running from the tumbling snow chasing after you.

“Think you get us above ground? Maybe a tree? Rock platforms?” Bucky shouted, still running with his arm up to prevent snow and ice from getting in his eyes.

“The snow’s too thick and the wind is too strong,” you shouted back.

“I’m sorry,” you shouted shakily.

Before Bucky could respond the snowfall did a hiccup before finally settling within feet of you and Bucky. You two were exhausted and if you had to run any further, you’d probably be consumed by snow because you barely had any energy left in you to keep running.

The wind was still harsh and the snow fell rapidly making it almost impossible to see even 5 feet in front of you.

“We should find shelter,” Bucky said close to your face. Your nose was nearly numb from the cold and the warmth from Bucky’s proximity made it almost feel like it was burning.

“I’m just following you,” you said with tired eyes.

After what felt like hours of walking you were practically dragging your feet and legs across the thick snow. The blankets of snow glistened beautiful and sparkled under the sun. despite the sun now being out the weather was still almost unbearably cold. Your body still shook from the chill.

“You know, I’ve never liked winter. It was always so plain and boring with all the snow. And it’s so fucking cold; I’d rather be laying in the sun in a meadow. But this,” you circled your arms and twirled, “This is beautiful.”

“You what’s even more beautiful?” Bucky held your hand.

“What?” you said shyly.

“That cabin up ahead,” he smirked, and you smacked his chest.

“Well then, come on. I’m still freezing my butt off, and surely the seedlings in my pocket are frozen too,” you started treading the snow, grunting every step.

You got inside after a few tugs because the lock was practically frozen shut. The cabin was seemingly abandoned, else the hosts would certainly be surprised. Nonetheless, Bucky searched the house for anything to give you warmth. You stood in the living room area of the cabin awaiting instructions from Bucky since he seemed to know what he was doing.

“Hey, doll. It looks like this place’s got two fireplaces. One here and in the master bedroom. Take your pick.”

“How long will be here?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve hardly got any signal to send an alert.”

“That means we’ll probably spend the night. We should use the bedroom.”

“You can use the bedroom. I set a fire in the fireplace there, and then I’ll set one up out here for me when you’re taken care of,” he said.

“I thought we were sharing the room,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. See you had this little, itty, bitty, tiny crush on the fellow. But how could you not? He was perfect! You certainly weren’t going to waste the opportunity to share a bed with the guy if you ‘had to’.

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he smiled softly.

You walked to the back room where the master bedroom was and it was beautiful. The bed was disassembled, the mattress was leaning to the side on the wall and the bed frame was taken apart. Bucky moved the bedframe to the side and flopped the mattress down to the floor.

“Let me check for any blankets in this place,” Bucky ran off.

You looked around and walked into the connected bathroom. To your absolute surprise there were small plants, unfortunately dead, and pots filled with dried out and chalky dirt. You could work with that.

You picked them up and took them to the bed. You sat on the mattress and placed the pots in front of you on the floor at your feet. You pulled out the frozen seedlings and plants and placed each one in their own pot.

That same sage green magic circled your hands and traveled to the pots where the dirt grew damp and the seedlings grew into buds. You smiled to yourself before looking up, eyes meeting Bucky’s who watched you with a grin on his face.

“It’s amazing what you do,” he said holding a bunch of blankets.

“It’s nothing.”

“No-” he was interrupted from the branches of the trees right outside the room baniging against the window hard.

“Oh no. storm’s picking up again,” Bucky mumbled.

“Are we gonna be ok?” you asked.

“”We’ll be fine. Now are you hurt?”

“Just cold,” you whispered.

“Ok if you feel uncomfortable let me know and I’ll leave you ok?” you nodded.

“I need you to take your layers off until you reach your thermal.”

You zipped down your snow jacket that was incredibly wet from all the snow from outside. Next was a layer of your snow pants after you took your snow boots off, which were also wet; both the pants and boots.

Bucky helped you with the rest of your layers under you simply wore a thermal and your undergarments underneath. Your body was shaking still and the fire still wasn’t on yet.

“Here are all the blankets I could find. Warm yourself up while I turn on the fireplace,” Bucky walked outside to gather some stumps of wood that were conveniently stacked next to the front door. He came back with a rock and banged it against his metal hand to create sparks which thankfully successfully lit the fire.

“Are you feeling ok?” he asked shyly.

“Sort of, but the fire’s going so I think I’ll feel better very soon,” you responded.

Bucky was about to leave you and make his own fire in the living room when you stopped him.

“Buck, you don’t have to leave,” you said.

“Thought I’d give you some privacy,” he responded.

“I don’t need privacy, besides the fire’s already made. Just stay here,” you scooted on the bed for him to sit.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Come sit,” you smiled and patted the spot next to you.

He sat with you very closely and you feel his body heat radiating off his body like a heater. He asked if it was ok if he got rid of wet clothes too and you let him. When he took his last layer off he accidentally lifted his thermal shirt with it exposing his lower stomach. The muscle of his abdominals surprised you and you couldn’t help but oogle.

Bucky’s cheeks grew red and not from the cold. You two sat in silence. Your body was still trembling slightly and bucky wanted to help you. He just didn’t know if you;d be comfortable with the particular survival tactic.

“I don’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable but body heat and skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm the body.

“Bucky, are you making a move on me?” you giggled.

“Uh no- sorry I, uh I-”

“I’m just teasing,” you smiled.

“I want to help you,” he whispered.

“Ok.”

Bucky moved away slightly and reached for the bottom of your shirt hesitantly looking to you for permission of which you granted. Your arms came up and the thermal slowly peeled off of your cold body. You were simply left in a bra and your arms covered yourself in coldness and also slight insecurity.

Bucky also took his thermal off and tossed it to the side. Your eyes trained on his torso littered with little scars and bruises that made you want to reach out and hold him. He leaned back on the mattress and lifted his hips to remove his thermal pants and then looked back to you to make sure you were still ok.

You stood up and quickly discarded your pants as well as seeing Bucky turn his away from seeing you undress; which made your heart warm at his manners. When you were done you sat back down much closer to Bucky this time.

His arms wrapped around you and both your legs hitched over his thighs as you curled into him. His body was so hot, figuratively and literally. Your body instantly warmed up against his hardened muscles. You stayed this way while the fire burned and Bucky told you stories about him and Steve back in the 40s before everything happened.

There was a moment of silence that settled between you and you looked into Bucky’s eyes. His hand came up and softly brushed the air from your face. You leaned into hand and smiled faintly to him and he smiled back.

Bukcy leaned his forehead down to press against your and you could feel the tip of his equally cold nose on yours. You looked at each other waiting for the other to say something, anything.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you whispered.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered back.

“Please.”

Bucky lips attached to yours ever so gently. Your body practically melted against him, chills raising on your skin but not from the cold. His hands caressed the skin of your stomach and ribs and you moved straddled his thighs.

You felt growing wet from the way he held you tenderly against him. You started grinding yourself against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard pressing up against your core. Small moans and breathy sighs emitted from you and Bucky and his hands roamed to your ass.

Bucky’s lips went to neck and you threw your head back for him and threaded your fingers through his hair. Bucky nipped and bit down on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue and dragged it down to your collarbone.

You reached around and unclipped your bra and Bucky tossed over to the pile of clothes you had discarded beforehand. Bucky looked down at your chest for a second but averted his eyes to prevent you from being uncomfortable.

His hands however kneaded the flesh of your breasts; insanely warm against your skin.

“You’re so pretty, darling,” Bucky whispered in your ear making you shudder.

He flipped you over; the blanket fell to the side making your nipples harden from the chilly air. He stood up to remove his boxers and ran his hands up your legs sensually playing with the hem of your panties you still had on.

He looked at you with gentle eyes before you nodded eagerly for him to take them off. After he did he crawled up body before settling between your hips. His cock was settled against your pussy and it practically throbbed, aching for more.

He pumped his cock with his hand a few times leaning down to capture your lips with his. When he slid inside, you moaned loudly taking a hold of his shoulders with your hands. Bucky was huge! Nothing like any of your past lovers, not that you really many.

“Hold on, hold on. I just need a second,” you told Bucky.

He leaned down and pressed kisses all over your face; your hands cupping his face and jaw giggling. You looked into eyes once again and nodded letting him know that it was alright to move again.

Bucky was in absolute heaven right now.

Your walls felt so soft and velvety as he easily thrusted in and out of you. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead. His hand reached down your arm and he intertwined his fingers with yours resting by your head.

Bucky had been dreaming of this moment longer than he’d like to admit. He never considered himself to be a shy person; and definitely not jealous either. But when he met you, he always stuttered and stumbled over his feet and words barely getting a working sentence out of his mouth.

Whenever Steve or Sam spoke to you, and generally flirted a lot of the time, he envied them for being so relaxed around you. He’d wanted to ask you on a proper date and take you home to worship you like you deserve; wake up next to you and make love all over again. But he couldn’t say hi without turning bright red.

But here you were, a dream come true, squirming, whining and moaning beautifully under him.

“You are so gorgeous, baby. God, I can’t believe you're here,” Bucky kissed you.

“Oh, Bucky you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, baby you’re taking me so well,” he praised.

You both moaned feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso driving him deeper in making you practically scream in pleasure. Bucky’s hips snapped in and out of you wildly desperate for that release he knows is going to be the best he’s ever had.

When the coil in the pit of your stomach burst your back arched into Bucky and his face buried into your neck as he practically growled in pleasure.

“Fuck that was amazing,” he kissed your neck and chuckled.

“Why are you always so shy around me? We probably could’ve done this way sooner,” you patted his back.

“I, uh-”

“There you go stuttering again,” you giggled.

“I’m sorry. Y/n, I really like you and I have since I’ve met you. I don’t know why I feel so brain dead whenever I’m around you. I used to have no problem asking a pretty dame on a date, but when I met you, I couldn’t even say hi let alone ‘Hey wanna go on a date because I think you’re the most beautiful angel I’ve ever met in my goddamn life?’ It felt impossible,” Bucky sat up and sat you on his legs still wrapped in the blanket.

“Bucky, I- oh,” you gasped.

“What?” you pointed to the wooden floor of the cabin. There were small buds and patches of grass coming through the cracks of the floorboards. There were also vines and branches covering the walls coming from the floor as well.

“Oh! Did I do that?” you looked back at him and he nodded.

“Oopsies,” you giggled.

“What if we had sex in the garden?” Bucky asked.

“Oh my gosh, Bucky!” you laughed.

“What?” a smile grew on his face watching you laugh in pure delight.

“You’re so silly,” you shook your head before yawning.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go sleep and we’ll see what’s gonna happen after the storm passes,” Bucky kissed you goodnight and you fell asleep comfortably in his arms.

___________________________________________

@mathletemadison

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ:

ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍᴀɴᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴇ! ;)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #marvel smut

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rayquazing · 4 years ago

Text

A short NS*W drabble featuring desperate ‘I thought you were dead’ forest seggs ~

The forest is serene by night. Through the heavy, needled branches of the tall pines Hange Zoe can make out a smattering of stars peppering the inky black sky. It amazes her how peaceful the world seems when really everything is poised to fall apart.

The moon speckles the forest floor with an eerie, whitish glow. Behind her the Captain rests, unconscious. That same glow illuminates the pallor of his ragged skin.

Hange never wants the sun to rise. She doesn’t want to lose that intrinsic sense of serenity that accompanies the chirping crickets and the hooting of owls. A whole ecosystem ignorant to the machinations of evil men.

She bows her head forward, the emotional exhaustion of her plight weighing on her shoulders more heavily than ever.

“We should just live here together, right, Levi?” She says to no one. A flush rises in her cheeks because, in a way, her words are a confession of something that they’ve been dancing around for years. But they always seem to flub the timing.

“You know you can’t sit out of this fight,” Levi’s voice is rough behind her, weak and low.

Hange startles, twisting her body to face him, her flush deepens, “L-Levi! You heard me just now, huh?”

Levi only watches her, slate eye shining in the moonlight that peppers his bandaged visage.

Hange’s breath catches, stunned that he can be so beautiful, even after being so thoroughly ravaged. Her heart soars in her chest, thundering into her throat which is tight to the point of pain.

She leans forward over him, holding his gaze. The realization dawns on her that this might be their only chance, their final chance. Because Levi is right, she can’t simply run away when so many innocent lives are on the line. They could die come morning. Levi could have died that very day.

Hip pressing into his shoulder, she traces a line along the unharmed side of his face. From his brow to his cheekbone the pad of her finger treks carefully over his skin. He’s warm, perhaps slightly feverish from his wounds. A sob wracks through Hange’s chest and Levi’s good eye goes wide at the sound.

“Hange,” he reaches for her immediately, but she catches his hand in her own, teary eye roaming over the stumps of knuckles where two of his fingers had once been.

It hurts. Just the thought that she could have lost him hurts so badly.

“I thought you were dead,” she admits, remembering the weight of his limp body in her arms, fingers desperately searching for a heartbeat. “I thought you were gone, Levi. I thought I was all alone.”

The tears flow unbidden and she bows her head carefully into his chest to hide her face, “You know I love you, right?”

Levi’s body stiffens against hers, remaining fingers tensing her her hand. She’d finally said it, those three little, infernal words that have chased them like a shadow for four long years. She feels a little lighter for having said them, so she says them again.

“I love you,” she raises her head, sniffing, tears beginning to stem. “I love you.”

Adjusting to the newness of those words, Levi lifts his hand to cup her face. His visible cheek is flushed, eye watery though he sheds no tears.

“I thought you were dead,” she repeats, voice ragged. Then Hange leans forward and lays a gentle kiss over Levi’‘s mouth through the bandages. The hand that had cupped her cheek moves to cup the back of her neck, fingers twining into her still damp hair.

Hange kisses his cheek and his forehead, the lid of his good eye and the tip of his nose. She straddles him, body aching for him, for physical comfort, and she feels him hard under the blanket.

They could both die come sunrise, she thinks. All they have is this moment, the present that transpires around them.

To her surprise, Levi sits up, pushing the blanket off of himself and tugging Hange into his lap. Her fingers caress along the exposed musculature of his chest and shoulders. Her russet eye shines in the moonlight, swollen from her tears.

She kisses him again, lingering as she carefully rolls her hips against his lap. They need this. They’ve wanted this for years; since Erwin died, before then even. From the moment she had first laid eyes upon him Hange had known he was special, now she will show him exactly what that means.

“I love you,” she exhales against his bandages, fingers working on the fly of her pants. Levi helps her shuck the imposing garment, tossing it a few feet away.

His hands caress over her hips, pulling her flush to his chest and into a tight embrace that lasts for a long while. Hange hiccups another sob into his shoulder, holding him right back. She can hear the thunder of his heartbeat in her ear, the most precious sound she has ever heard.

“I thought I’d lost you,” She says, muffled into his skin. Fresh tears spatter against him, trailing down his shoulder.

“You didn’t,” he reassures, voice soft, pained. “I’m here.”

Hange pulls away just far enough to reach between their bodies and undo his fly. She fishes out his hard cock carefully, giving him a few testing strokes that earn her a soft groan.

“I love you,” she says again, then she sinks down onto him in one smooth, steady movement.

They both gasp, grasping at one another. Levi holds her flush to him, pressing their foreheads together so they breathe each other’s breath. They remain like that for a long while; Hange seated on him, hot around him, full to the brim of her beloved Captain, holding one another.

Levi drops his head to the crook of her neck as she slowly begins to roll her hips. He nuzzles there, hands searching reverently over her body.

They’ve both wanted this for a long time. Not-so-secretly longing for one another. They feel complete, whole. Two halves of a single, radiant thing which mounts between them with each roll of Hange’s hips.

“I love you,” Hange says again, gripping him more tightly. Her clit grinds against his pubic bone, drawing a strangled whimper past her lips. Already her body is tightening around him, going taut as a bowstring.

She never wants it to end, this sublime thing which unfolds between them. She never wants to let him go, never wants to leave this forest. They’re safe here, together, hidden away where no one can ever find them, where no one can ever hurt them. She loves him. Hange Zoe loves Levi Ackerman and it hurts in the most pristine way.

It’s never been more clear than now, in this moment, as they make love like they won’t see the sunrise.

“Hange,” Levi whispers her name like a prayer, breath coming out in uneven pants as he began to swell inside of her with his own impending climax.

He pulls back to hold her gaze, his good eye meeting hers. A tear treks over his cheek, she she leans forward and kisses it away.

“I love you, too,” Levi breathes just before grunting and spilling himself inside of her.

The sensation of his heat pooling in her middle sends Hange over the edge as well. She hides her face in his shoulder as waves of pleasure roll through her, He loves her, too. That her feelings are not unrequited isn’t much of a surprise, but it is a blessed reassurance all the same.

As they collapse back onto the blanket Hange settles into Levi’s side, lips repeatedly pressing against the side of his neck. She gathers the blankets around them, cuddling into him as his arm winds protectively around her. They deserve this.

Hange feels full, happy and sated. Levi is alive. They love one another. And for the moment that is enough.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #my writing

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wasabito · 4 years ago

Text

thank you to @sparkexplosive and @vs-redemption for beta reading it for me! merry christmas & happy holidays everyone ♥️

➽ synopsis: being a member of the royal guard is a grueling and thankless job, so you decide to remind katsuki a little of what it’s like to be young again—what better way to do that than with some healthy competition.

➽ word count: 1.7k

➽ tags: fluff, budding romance, royalty au, childhood friends

➽ author’s note: i had a ton of fun participating in my first ever secret santa!! this is my gift-fic to the lovely @katsushimaa hope you enjoy, yssa!

"So, this is where the hell you've been hiding?"

His voice tore through the midday stillness like a blade, equal parts raspy and gruff. He sounded irritated and mildly fatigued. Not that Katsuki Bakugou would ever admit to being anything less than a hundred and ten percent. He climbed off his steed, heavy boots crunching under the weight of his feet, and secured his horse against the stump you were leaning on.

You flipped the page of your book, not sparing the man even a cursory glance. You would prefer to keep your attention occupied by fictitious worlds, warriors, and battles fought in the name of love and justice.

It was much easier to allow yourself to become the bearer of fictional hardships, because at least they could be solved through a well-constructed plot with each turn of a page, as opposed to the realities of your actual life, a slow spiraling disaster in comparison.

Bakugou stood in front of you, vein ticking on his throat with every clench of his jaw. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, red gaze pinned on your hunched form. He wasn't at all the kind of person anyone could easily ignore. His very presence demanded attention and drew eyes like a magnet.

Case in point, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you simply couldn’t.

"Please tell me you aren't going to stand there the entire time. Take a hint will you." You went to turn another page, but Bakugou reached over and snatched the book from your hands with deft fingers and speed you couldn't hope to match.

"Give. It. Back."

"Nah, I don't think I will just yet." He sneered, thumbing through the pages. "I was told to bring your dumbass back to the estate, so that's exactly what the hell I'm 'bout to do."

You blew a puff of air from your lips, eyes blazing with a kind of defiance that only burned harder the more you glared at him. "Then I guess you'll just have to drag me back kicking and screaming."

Bakugou only smirked, teeth spread in a feral grin that sent a chill down your spine.

That had always been his intention.

Almost an hour later, you stood before your parents, clothes dusty, creased, and smudged from having been manhandled like a sack of flour before promptly dumped in front of your waiting audience.

A frown marred your delicate features as they began their lecture.

Your mind drifted elsewhere the more they reminded you of your lineage and that you were royalty and how it was imperative you behave as such. You’d heard it all before, known this for as long as you could remember. As the King and Queen of your home country, your parents never failed to emphasize the importance of keeping your every move in check because of the reputation you had to uphold.

Katsuki stood somewhere behind you, and although he stayed mostly silent, you could almost hear him grinding away at his molars. The King and Queen were taking turns subtly digging into him as well, implying that his incompetence was a stain upon the royal guard perfect record of achievements. If he couldn't keep you in line, what was the point of holding rank?

They annoyed him way more than they did you, but he dare not voice it, not if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders. Far be it from him to send himself to the guillotine

You both were in for a long night.

“Honestly, this kind of behavior is unbecoming of someone of your status. What will our countrymen think if they see you roaming about unattended like a vagabond?” Your father stroked his beard as if waiting for a response. But everyone in the room knew he really just liked to hear himself talk.

He was no better than a machiavellian swindler in expensive robes. A puppet if you would.

The real leader of the land was your mother. After all, she had only married into the family, having been the daughter of a mere advisor with no royal blood. She spoke little, but her glare was more than enough to convey just what she was thinking.

By the end of the lecture, you felt like all of your energy had been sapped from you, but thankfully your parents left you to retreat into your bedroom for the remainder of the day. Bakugou escorted you, following close behind.

“You’re gonna do it again, aren’t ya?”

You paused, foot nearly catching against the carpeted floors of your bedroom. Fiddling with a piece of your hair, you shrugged. “...maybe.”

“You’re a huge idiot.” Bakugou shook his head with a low laugh.

A tiny smidgen of a grin danced on your lips as you considered him. He was your childhood friend. No one knew you better than he did. And he was also the guard most assigned to watch over you and keep you safe from harm.

Despite that, you’d come to notice how much he’d changed. He wasn’t the same Katsuki you grew up knowing and you missed him dearly. Occasions like this, where a part of his guard was let down, were becoming few and far between. There had to be something you could do.

“Let’s make a wager. If you can manage to find me, I’ll do one thing at your command.”

“Challenge accepted.” He reached into the folds of his uniform, pulled out your little novel, and slapped it right into your open palm. "No matter where you run off to, I'll find ya. Trust me on that, princess."

His eyes were like candles in the night, ignited by a spark of passion. Not a single lie could be detected.

"I won't make it easy on you, Katsuki, just so you know."

"Heh, you better not." He sniffed, tucking his hands into his uniform pockets. And with a final half-wave, he was gone.

In and around the capital city, winter had completely lost it's bite. The weather was tepid, swinging a mild breeze that coasted through the countryside. It was the sort of winter where one felt as if woolen clothing were worn more for comfort than necessity. In what should have been the chilliest part of the year, Bakugou found himself traversing one of the many beaches that hedged the southern peninsula.

After a full week following the challenge issued in your bedroom, Bakugou realized you were entirely too good at evading him or any of the other guards at the kingdom’s disposal, for that matter.

Day in and day out, he spent his shifts searching tirelessly for you, just to stumble upon you in the most random of places and only when you had wanted him to find you. The running score was six to five in your favor, but he was determined not to lose to you again.

And there you were, standing at the very edge of the shore, as if a mere thought had manifested you right before his very eyes. Your loose billowing dress of soft satin waved to him like a white flag of surrender in the air. He'd finally found you.

"Not gonna run off this time?"

"Nope! You won this round." Your cheeks creased in a smile.

Given the boots he'd worn, it was no surprise that his feet kept sinking into the sand. You said nothing as he toed off his shoes and socks, bare feet settling into the depths of warm, grainy sand.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. Over the past few months, he’d found himself losing sight of his goals, caught in the dredges of the mundane and routine.

The cool waters lapped at both his and your feet, fizzing and bubbling, leaving behind traces of salt. You went further into the water’s touch, your back to him as the tides licked at the your calves. Even he had to admit, the view was a beautiful one, possibly even more so with you against the backdrop.

“I’m glad you found me,” you called over the cry of seagulls. “For a second, I was worried you’d lose this round.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch, as if I’d ever lose to you, princess.”

“Naturally.” You laughed.

“What the hell are we doing out here anyway?”

He knelt to roll up his pants, a mere moment away from following after you like always.

“I... really just wanted to show you the view. Do you remember when we used to come down here as kids? Remember how we used to dare each other to see who could go the farthest into the ocean?”

Of course he remembered. Those were some of his most cherished memories of his time spent with you before duty to the kingdom took precedent.

You reached a hand out to him, an open invitation. “I just thought you needed a little reminder of what that was like.”

For some reason, Katsuki was determined not to meet your gaze, scowling at some point on the horizon, until you came over and nudged him with your elbow. “It wouldn’t kill you to admit that I’m right.”

With a sigh, he reached over and tugged you into a hug. You snuggled close to his chest, gripping the back on his uniform. It may have been your imagination but you could’ve sworn you felt the soft press of lips against your temple.

“Thanks... you know... for everything.”

Beaming, you leaned back to get the full view of his heated cheeks.

“Of course, of course.”

There was something earnest in his eyes that told you no matter how far you went, or however far you traveled, he’d always be a step behind you. It sent your heart hammering in your ribcage. You were suddenly all too aware of the way he held you secure against him like he would never let go.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You blinked owlishly, taken over by your feelings and mumbling a hushed. “Oh, nothing.” The two of you were just a royal and a guard, bound to one another by duty.

If there could be anything more than that...well, only time would tell.

#pocuties secret santa #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff

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sirius-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Bite Marks (The Mandalorian x Reader) SMUT

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap that willy), Dom/Sub, Rough sex, Oral sex (Reader receiving), Swearing. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, KINDLY FUCK OFF

Word Count: 3.6k? I think? Who knows at this point

A/N: Nothing sexier than Jealous!Mando, amirite?

***

The bounty was supposed to be easy.

All five mercenaries were dudebro fuckbois with high prices on their heads and a habit of pissing off the wrong people. They were all expected to be at the same club, too, which meant that you just had to flaunt some skin and purr honeyed promises and they’d be in the palm of your hands.

The bounty was supposed to be fucking easy .

It wasn’t.

***

The Mandalorian is suspicious. He always is.

“What are the chances of all six of our targets being in one place?” He says, “Seems suspicious. Could be a trap.”

“I considered that, too,” you remark from over your shoulder, searching idly for an outfit, “That was before I realised it was a Solastice festival. Literally hundreds of thousands of people rock up to this sleeze fest. No one wants to miss out on the free booze and the orgies,” Your fingers skim across a velvet mermaid dress, “How about this?”

Mando huffs out a grunt, “I should come.”

You toss the dress aside and search for another, “Who’s going to look after the Child?”

The Mandalorian stares long and hard at the Child, who blinks owlishly back at the Mandalorian, his inky eyes filled with adoration, “I know someone.”

“You sure you can trust them?”

“She’s taken care of him before.”

You give a noncommittal hum and hold out a lacy, navy-blue dress, “What about this?”

“That’s it?”

“What? You don’t like a bit of lace—?”

“—you’re not going to argue about me coming on this bounty with you?”

“It’ll be fun,” you smirk, throwing the dress away, “Besides, I like watching you in action. You’re sexy when you fight.”

Mando tilts his head. His expression is impossible to read but you suspect he might be amused, annoyed or confused.

Beaming excitedly, you flatten a sleek, backless dress with a plunging neckline against your body, imagining how the dress will hug your curves and flaunt your cleavage. A long split down the side will give you access to the blasters and daggers strapped to your thigh holster too. It’s classy with just enough sexy to keep the imagination stirring.

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything for a long, measured moment. Somehow, perhaps ironically — the silence seems to whisper his approval.

You untie your silk dressing robe, letting it fall to the ground and pool around your feet. The Mandolorian averts his gaze. suddenly taking a keen interest in the small plant you’ve been watering. You wish you could see his face. Is he blushing? Is he horrified? Is he aroused?

Sliding into the dress, you turn and gesture to the zip kissing the small of your back. “Do you mind?”

The Mandalorian hesitates at first. Somehow, you can almost hear the clink of his thoughts colliding, like he’s mentally solving dynamical system calculations and differential equations. Finally, he stalks toward you and you feel the hesitancy begin to thaw as his gloved fingers twitch around the zip and tug.

His ghostly, featherlight touch lingers on your skin, following the line of your spine until he reaches the thin straps sitting elegantly on the knob of your shoulders. Summoning every ounce of your ex-assassin courage, you slowly turn to face him and stare deeply into the slit in his helmet, imagining the colour of his eyes. Are they a dazzling shade of blue? Or a lovely, rare shade of teal green? Perhaps a smokey umber or steely grey? Or were they like yours; a kaleidoscope of colour always shifting and changing and never one distinct shade?

The air thickens, electricity crackles.

Suddenly, the Mandalorian nods stiffly and stumps away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sigh, realising that there’s more than Beskar armour hiding his thick, prickly layers. Perhaps... , you muse, in that childishly naive way that only deep affection can stir, ... Perhaps I’ll find a way to pry it off.

***

Outside, the festival rages.

The dancing crowd of celebrants are like a splash of vibrant colour against the bland backdrop of the surrounding buildings as they flood the streets, filling the air with hoots and cheer and vivid shades of life .

You perch on the barstool, keeping an eye on both your targets and the festival. The Mandalorian is sitting at a table in the far corner, close to the exit in case the targets are as dumb as they look and decide to make a break for it.

The bartender slides yet another drink your way from a hopeful suitor. You smile and take a sip, winking at the nervous, young man stealing furtive glances at you.

“My, my...” a greasy voice says from over your shoulder, “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in dump like this?”

You spin in your stool and smirk.

The lead dudebro of the fuckboi boy-band is trying to make a pass at you. He thinks he sounds smooth but his pick up lines are equal parts cliche and cringy and they come off polished and second-hand, like he’d heard it from a grainy, amateur porn movie and decided it was a winner.

“Hoping to find myself a handsome fella,” you purr, flashing him your most alluring smile.

Dudebro leans against the counter, reeking of smoke and sweat and virile fuckboi testosterone. He trails a lewd gaze from your eyes down past your neck, spilling indulgently between your breasts, along the sloping curve of your hips, down to the skin of your thigh peeking out from where you have one leg crossed over the other.

“How is that working out for you?”

Your lips tilt into a cat-like smirk, like a spider watching the squirming wreck of their prey struggle against the sticky fibres of a carefully designed web, “You tell me.”

“Beautiful, clever and single? Seems too good to be true.”

“Yet here we are.”

A dodgy grin hooks around Dudebros chapped lips. He slides a calloused hand along your thigh, his grip bordering on possessive.

“Here we are.”

You pause, stretching out a silence to create tension. Dudebro slides his tongue over his bottom lip.

“You should know that I give generously to women who know how to please a man,” he says, “And you look like you know a thing or two about that...”

You lean over, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “Why don’t we get a room and you can see for yourself.”

Dudebro shudders. You’ve got him.

Suddenly, a blur of grey and silver charges toward dudebro, slamming his head onto the counter. Dudebro crumbles into an unconscious heap by your feet.

The Mandalorian has swooped in to save the day. What a knight in shining fucking armour.

“What the fuck was that about?” You hiss, incensed, “I nearly had him!”

The Mandalorian doesn’t answer. Instead, he’s twirling his blaster between his fingers with well-practiced movements.

The other dudebro’s jump to their feet, steeling themselves for a fight.

Chaos erupts.

***

You’re quiet on your way back to the Razor Crest.

Your blood is boiling, your throat itchy and dry from all the insults you want to scream into the dull, black, bottomless void. The Mandalorian’s anger is an icy contrast to your fire; his broad shoulders steeled and his posture hard, unforgiving, like he’s still hunting down a bounty.

Your temper spikes as you watch him pay Peli Motto, your jaw clenched and your lower belly fluttering with a confusingly irritating concoction of venomous seething and hot, syrupy desire.

“It didn’t have to end in a fucking bar brawl,” you snip, waspishly, as he closes the hatch to his ship, “Thanks to you, though, it did.”

The Mandalorian gives you his usual response: silence.

Your nostrils flare.

“Three dudebros nearly escaped. It was lucky I was able to catch them before they raced off.”

Still no response. He’s too busy scaling the ladder up to the cockpit. You stomp up to the ladder and call up to him.

“You undermined me! And for what, exactly? Because some guy was getting a little touchy feely?”

You hear the engines roar to life and feel the ship rise, hover, then launch into the air.

Fuming, you pace the length of the ship, clutching the daggers in your thigh holster and hurling them in quick procession. They lodge themselves into the bullseye, trembling from the force of your strength.

“You’re making dents in my ship.”

Your jaw clenches, molars grinding as you storm toward the daggers and pull one of them out.

“So now you want to talk!” You snap, scathingly, wheeling around to face him.

Mando’s helmet tilts as though he were evaluating you. He takes three deliberate steps forward, forcing you take a surreptitious step back.

“I’m not exactly a conversationalist,” he states, his voice clipped and tight. He makes no effort to disguise the anger in his tone.

You ball your fingers into a fist, clenching and unclenching, “So you’re not going to explain to me why you nearly let three of our bounty’s escape?”

There is a crackle and whir from the modulator as he speaks again, low and even with an intensity that sends shivers traipsing down your spine.

“You don’t know?”

You squint at him, wondering what he’s playing at. He acted rashly and impulsively; in a way that he’s never done before, betraying his years of careful training and defying all common sense. His timing was peculiar, too, just when you had suggested finding a room...

It hits you like a blaster to the chest, “You were jealous.”

Mando takes another step forward, neatly eliminating any space you had tried to regain. Your back is pressed against the wall as he takes another step closer, closer, closer , his arm reaching out grazing against your cheek, caging you in, closer, closer, closer—

He grips the handle of your dagger and pulls it out of the wall beside your head with a strong tug. The dagger dances between his fingers as he twirls it then parts the split in your dress just enough to slide the dagger back into its holster. His fingers glide along your inner thigh and you gasp, his touch electric.

“Not exactly,” he says, “Just a little protective.”

You exhale slowly, evenly, your chest fluttering with a thousand hummingbirds, “Is there a difference?”

He pulls his gloves off and trails his fingers along the delicate skin of your inner thigh, “I suppose not.”

The tension in the air is almost sentient, alive with a frantic, crackling energy that’s hotter than a heatwave in Tatoonie. Mando’s fingers dig into the spot where dudebro fuckboi had his hand back in the bar. Slowly, slowly, his hand snakes up your thigh, grazing across your hipbone, tickling the sensitive skin...

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you sneer, your upper lip curled.

“I guess I am,” he admits, his eyes boring holes through the visor of his helmet, “But you’re no angel, either.”

With that, he whirls you around and pushes you up against the wall, your flushed cheeks pressed up against the cool metal of his ship. You moan when he drapes a bandage across your eyes then tugs tightly at your hair. You hear him pull his helmet over his head, dropping it onto the ground with an obnoxious clang. Then he’s behind you, his voice in your ear, sultry and thick.

“You waltz around teasing me with those looks and that body of yours,” he grips your ass through the fabric of your dress, squeezing with bruising strength, “You drive me absolutely fucking crazy.”

He presses a searing kiss to your neck, teeth clamping around the flesh. You moan and arch against him, desire pulsing through your veins like velvety liquid chocolate.

“Then I saw you with our bounty, the way he eyed you, like he was undressing your right then and there,” the Mandalorian grazes his teeth along your neck, biting and nipping hard enough to draw blood, “Only I get to look at you like that. You’re mine.”

With a sudden burst of strength, the Mandalorian grips you by the waist and spins you around, pressing your back against the wall. He crashes his lips onto yours in a searing kiss, teeth scraping and tongues clashing, his mouth ruthless and bruising in the most delicious of ways. He kisses you with the hunger of a starved man, as though he’s deciding whether to savour you or swallow you whole.

The Mandalorian spills his lips down the column of your throat, biting and sucking and bruising, planting blossoming purple roses in your skin. Bite marks swell beneath his lips; a brand you’ll wear proudly for the next few days. It’s ironic how being claimed by the Mandalorian can make you feel so liberated.

He pulls away from you and clutches the zipper to your dress, tearing it from your body. You gasp, the cool air caressing your exposed skin. You feel the prickle of his eyes travelling across your body, capturing and collecting, memorising every detail.

And then he’s on you again, kissing your lips fiercely, stealing the breath from your lungs, swallowing your gasps, your moans, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. Your hands roam through his hair, tugging the roots, letting it melt between your fingers like honey.

The Mandalorian reaches behind you and rips off your bra followed by your panties, pulling an involuntary gasp from your lips.

“You’re going to have to pay for those,” you pant, “They weren’t cheap—“

You trail off into a moan as you feel the Mandalorian’s hot lips close around one of your nipples, teeth scraping and nibbling. You arch into his mouth, massaging his scalp as you play with his hair. His hand paws at your other breast, rolling the soft flesh in his palm, sending shivers throughout your body.

“Consider it payback for denting my ship,” he counters, and you hear his armour clink against the ships floor as though he were kneeling.

You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he begins pressing butterfly kisses down your stomach, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin, tongue mapping out the canvas of your body. You moan when he bites your hipbone then travels lower, lower, until his hot breath is hovering over your slick entrance. He slings your leg over his shoulder and inhales your scent as though he were taking mental notes, cataloguing your natural fragrance with everything he knows about you, and then—

He dives in, curling his tongue over your clit, rolling the sensitive pearl of nerves as he drinks you in like sweet nectar. You moan and gasp and whimper his name, your voice hoarse as your lower belly crackles with ethereal-like energy; a nest of frayed, live wires sending currents of azure-blue electricity through your body.

Thick fingers push into you; first the index, then the middle finger, then both. Your back arches and your fingers fly into his hair, gripping hard enough to draw a groan from the back of his throat. It doesn’t take long for you to climax; you cry out his name as you shatter into oblivion, coasting a high that jolts you into hyperspace.

The Mandalorian kisses his way back up your body, and then he kisses you deeply. You slide your tongue over his lips, tasting yourself. Your head spins into a state of euphoric delirium.

“Your pleasure belongs to me,” he snarls, transforming your spine into a quivering live wire, “I’m in charge. Understood?”

“Yes, sir ,” you whisper, light as air, tone teasing.

“Good girl.”

The Mandalorian breaks away, the absence of his warmth leaving a ghosting greyness where he once stood. You shudder as you hear armour clicking and the whirr of zipper teeth being pulled apart. Then you feel his hands tug on the knot behind your head, keeping your bandage together, and the fabric falls away, returning your vision.

You blink, eyes adjusting. The Mandalorian stands before you in his armour, including his helmet. His codpiece is discarded; the lump of metal sits abandoned on the floor near your shredded clothes. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth as your gaze dips to his huge, thick cock.

“Wow,” you gasp, “You’ve been holding out on me, Mando.”

The Mandalorian steps toward you again, hooks his arms around your thighs, and hoists you up against the wall. The cold metal bites into your back, penetrating your skin and crawling down your spine. He presses his cock against your entrance.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a brat...”

Without further ado, He pins you to the wall of the Razor Crest with his long, thick girth, sinking into you with a loud groan and a roll of his hips. You cling onto the pieces of his armour and rest your head on the cool metal of his shoulder as the Mandalorian sets a pace. He rocks his hips slowly at first and you move your own hips against him, for once perfectly in sync.

“Fuck,” you curse, wrapping your thighs around his hips and pulling him further into your warm depths.

The Mandalorian snaps his hips against you, building up a fast, unrelenting pace. His movements are steady and deliberate, his grip plunging into your thighs, shooting sparks of pain and pleasure throughout your entire body. He’s silent for the most part, occasionally grunting and gasping in your ear when the muscles in your pussy contract.

“Yes,” you cry, biting into the fabric of his shoulder, “Just like that, don’t stop.”

A familiar tightness begins to curl inside your lower belly again, sloshing around with the chemical cocktail of champagne,

dopamine and serotonin. The feeling rolls and crashes within you, filling you up like seawater and sunlight and bright, glittering gold.

“Every time a man lays his hands on you, I want to cut them off,” he growls, each word punctuated with a sharp thrust, “Each eye that follows you makes me want to dig them out of the socket.”

“I never — oh — never knew you felt like — Ah, fuck yes — like that.”

“Bullshit. You knew...you’re just such a — fuck — fucking tease .”

“So what are you going to do—do about it?”

The Mandalorian groans and increases his pace, slamming his cock inside of you. He balances you with one, strong arm while the other snakes between the two of you and reaches up, up, up, his fingers wrapping around your neck, flexing gently. The added pressure makes you moan as you crest higher and higher, scaling the wobbling, tipsy-turvey ladder of a crashing crescendo—

Suddenly, the tight coil inside you snaps, spirals, sending pleasure surging through you, fluttering in your chest, pulsing through your arms and legs. Your pussy quivers around him, hugging his cock as the muscles spasm and quake with the force of your climax. The Mandalorian follows you over the edge, gritting his teeth and growling your name as he buries his twitching cock inside of you and comes, pouring his seed deep inside of you.

The air around of you smells like sweat and sex and grease and is filled with your combined pants. After a few lingering moments, the Mandalorian slides out of you and places you gently on the ground, tucking himself back into his pants. Your thighs are sticky with his dribbling cum and your head feels like it’s been crammed with fluffy cotton buds but your entire body tingles like light dancing off the ocean.

“That was—“

“Incredible...” you finish, biting your lip. The Mandalorian’s faceless mask stares down at you, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he’s gazing sheepishly at you, perhaps shy or maybe even aroused. Maybe he’s like you — an amalgamation of conflicting emotions, some old and nostalgic, some surprising and new.

***

Morning light drenches the Mandalorian’s quarters, shimmering like gold dust. You moan gently, consciousness slowly returning to you. You become aware of your surroundings, recognition settling in, delicious memories of being tied up and blindfolded while the Mandalorian worshipped your body...

The gentle caress of a warm kiss tickles your inner thigh.

You moan as the kisses dot along your thigh, climbing higher, teasing around your entrance, licking and nipping like he can’t get enough...

Your fingers fumble then clench around the bed sheets as his tongue finally laps at your clit, swirling and sliding in tantalising rhythms. You gasp and mewl, whispering words of encouragement as the Mandalorian feasts on you, plunging two fingers into your slick entrance. You begin to draw closer and closer to your climax, your toes curling as you throw your head back and moan—

A small whimper suddenly jolts you back into the present.

You sit up on your elbows and gasp, clambering to cover yourself as the Child stares up at you, distressed by the sound of your moans. His bottom lip trembles, his large eyes unusually glassy as he waddles up to you.

Beneath you, the Mandalorian shifts, and you turn away from him as he slides his helmet on.

“Hello baby,” you soothe, reaching down to scoop him up with one arm, “It’s okay, mummy’s here.”

The Child coos in delight as he snuggles into your embrace. You gently turn on your side to face the Mandalorian — who is now wearing his helmet — and place the Child between your bodies. He stares up at both of you and beams; his smile could light up a thousands suns.

When the Child begins to doze, you gaze up at the Mandalorian through your lashes, bracing your head on your hand bent at the elbow.

“I think he was jealous,” you whisper, stifling your giggles.

You hear the amusement in the Mandalorian’s tone, “Of you or of me?”

You shrug, leaning down to press a tiny kiss on the Child’s head, “Who knows?”

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